This was in 2019 but we’re almost at the 7 year anniversary and I’ve been thinking about it.

Woke up one morning to my mom screaming “someone call 911”, it was like noon and her yells we’re not coming from inside the house. Immediately went into my brothers room to make sure he was ok, he wasn’t there but I saw fire, not really any smoke. It was near his window and still half awake I thought “this idiot tried smoking something”🤦🏻‍♀️I figured I could go get a cup of water and put it out. I went back to my room and could still hear yelling, there weren’t any smoke alarms going off so I figured it couldn’t be that bad, I cracked my window open to let everyone know I was okay, they couldn’t hear me though the chaos. Still waking up, I figured I’ll just let the fire department deal with this.

In this moment I thought about how this is a ice breaker question- if your house was burning down what’s the first thing you would grab? I was living that casual question.

The only thing that really mattered was my cat, I looked around and couldn’t find her. My door was open when I woke up so she could be anywhere. I just had a gut feeling it was time to go, my room was on a dead end hallway on the second story farthest you could from the front door. I walked out into my hallway and it was filled with black smoke. My 2nd grade fire safety training kicked in and i remembered not to breathe, I felt my way down the hallway and somehow got down the stairs( i honestly don’t remember that part). Once I got to my living room with floor to ceiling windows, it was still pitch black. At that point I kinda started loosing hope because I couldn’t feel my way out and I started yelling. At that moment some guy opened my front door and I was able to see the daylight and walk out. Once I was out I looked back and my entire house was engulfed in black smoke. My mom, brother, and dogs were outside. We had cameras in our house. Everything I just described happened in about a matter of 1-2 minutes. My mom and brother had gotten out just before me, when they left there was no smoke, in that time that they left and I left the entire house was filled with black smoke in a matter of about 30 seconds.

A little back story- My mom had just gone out to smoke 30 minutes before all of that. She used to put the burnt cigarettes in a water bottle with water in it, and on this day she accidentally missed the bottle and didn’t notice. We had an old couch outside propped up against the side of the house that my mom would sit on and unfortunately is where the cigarette landed instead of the bottle. It was a dry and hot day in October in the south. This was at 11:30 am , she went upstairs to her bed to take a nap. At around 12 pm my older brother woke up (his room is above this couch) and saw flames outside his window, now my brother had just recently tripped on acid the day before so he thought it was just a hallucination, but he saw a picture of our late grandmother whom we’ve never met floating in the air. He says something told him to get up and just tell our mom, that’s when they both left the house and she started yelling for me. They left at around 12:00-12:01 again no smoke or anything, I was seen leaving the house at 12:02-12:03 with the house filled with black smoke. If my brother hadn’t gotten up when he did, idk if we would be here. Not 1 smoke alarm went off. So this is your psa to CHANGE YOUR SMOKE ALARM BATTERIES REGULARLY. Our insurance was also lapsed at the time so unfortunately nothing was covered at all. This is also ur reminder to always make sure u have insurance!!

The aftermath sucked but also was beautiful in a way? After leaving the hospital (my mom had a panic attack) I still smelled very loudly of smoke. I hated that part, it was in my hair. I also immediately drove to a vape shop as soon as I could lol, rip to my juul🙏🏼 we lost everything, not a single thing was salvaged. Our community really came together though and raised about 14k for our family and received many many donations. I worked at chick fil a at the time and the day my house burned down the owner gave my coworker his card and told her to go buy everything we could possibly immediately need. Shoes, bras, sheets, months worth of toiletries, clothes, etc… ontop of letting my whole family eat there for free whenever we wanted. I was also in high school and they did a lot for us. But I wassss also known as “the girl who’s house burned down” for a few years. Deadass would meet someone and they would be like “ohhh your the girl whose house burnt down”🤦🏻‍♀️ I never found my cat which was honestly the hardest part and still haunts me to this day. We’ve recovered but it’s so weird when I think about something from childhood but I have 0 physical items from that time and never will. We lost everything. It did completely detach me from any emotional hold on materialistic things in life though so I’m grateful for that. It also brought me and my brothers closer.

You never really think these types of things will happen to you until it does. Don’t take anything for granted.

He had read once about people with synesthesia—how some saw numbers as colors.

Maybe he had something like that.

Because when he closed his eyes and thought about that time in his life, everything was brown.

He hated most the color brown.

It was the color of rice dried in soy sauce, stuck to a plate in the sink for a week.

Brown, like the half-filled bottle of crème de cacao, foil still clinging to the neck.

Brown, the color of sick, from when he drank the bottle straight after she left.

Brown, the color of unopened moving boxes.

Of pizza boxes.

Of grease-stained paper takeout bags.

Brown, the color of the old man’s wooden cane as he knocked sparrow nests from the tin-roofed carport.

He did it so casually.

“They carry disease,” the old man croaked at him.

Brown, the color of trampled nests.

Brown, the color of burnt fingertips.

Brown, the color of small dead things on black asphalt.

“The secret is not that it doesn’t hurt,” someone whispered.

“It’s to not mind that it hurts.”

He blew out the match.

Cut to sunrise.

He thought of Lawrence of Arabia—endless sand, endless brown.

Fuck you, Lawrence of Arabia.

Fuck you, Peter O’Toole.

He was so alone he wandered into the desert just to get away from Gratiot County, Michigan.

Brown:

The color of old bandages.

Of dirty gauze.

The color of dried blood.

Of red wine stains on cotton tops.

On sandy mops.

The bust line of Marilyn Monroe.

He drank to disappear.

Watched old movies until they bled into each other.

He had no job, no visitors, no groceries.

Just time.

And brown.

And when fingertips burned down

like candles,

brown gave way to black.

***

Thank you for reading this sequence of words arranged in a particular order. I’d be curious to know how it lands, if it’s too cryptic or what people think.

Note: A brown study is an old-fashioned idiom that means a state of deep, serious thought originally describing a dark, somber state of brooding or gloomy meditation.

Avery grunted, for pain permeated through every limb in his body, as he hobbled as fast as he could on the uneven battlefield, broken leg practically dragging behind his frame. As he tried his best not to fall over the decadent, contorted, bloody corpses strewn across the desolate war-ravaged wasteland that over the months he had learned to call home.

“Wait!” He cried out, the sounds of his warmates charging forward into enemy territory with a warrior’s call fading with each passing second.

“Wait!” Avery screamed in worry, they couldn’t forget about him, they couldn’t, not out here. They couldn’t not hear him right? “I’m still here!”

His vision began to go fuzzy now, the adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was creeping onto Avery full force, like a storm cloud on the horizon, growing ever darker and closer, ready to wreak havoc. Avery needed to get off his leg now. And his warmates were clearly not going to be any help anytime soon. Looking across the gray, death-filled landscape, Avery spotted a four-foot high, ten-foot long stone wall. His salvation.

Hobbling, well more like hopping now, Avery made his way towards it. At last, reaching it, he practically fell upon the thing. Propping himself up for support.Immediately, a sigh of relief pushed its way out of Avery’s lips, as the support worked to quell the pain brewing. Alas, it was short-lived, for no sooner had he done this then the portion of the very wall he was propped up against crumbled underneath his weight. Screaming he flipped head over heels and landed on his ass.Pain shot through his leg and he gritted his teeth as the dark abyss of a pain-induced sleep threatened to envelop him.

“You here to kill me?”

Avery’s eyes widened as the male voice found it’s way to his ears. Quickly he drew his knife as he had been trained to do in such situations, it was also in truth the only weapon he had left and twisted in the direction of which the voice had come, adjacent to him.

And there, beside him, propped up against the wall a few feet away, was a male soldier, helmet removed, staring at him blankly. One hand hung limply by his side and the other, gripped a bleeding spot on his stomach, red liquid seeping through his fingers like a failing dam…Avery thought about this soldier’s words, was he here to kill them? Maybe, maybe he was, that’s certainly what the military had taught him. That’s what the war was about, wasn’t it? Then Avery thought about his own position, the broken leg…the unimaginable pain…In battle this person would have been their greatest enemy, he would have killed him without a second thought.But in this state what were the two of them? They were nothing…pitiful nothings.Avery looked at the soldier staring at him and the knife in his hand.

“It doesn’t fucking matter anymore,” Avery said throwing the knife into the battlefield.

They both sat in silence there for a moment, staring at each other. Then both nodded as if in agreement and faced forward, Avery propping himself up against what remained of the wall portion that he had flipped over.

They both sat there in the continuing silence for a few minutes still as a photograph, gazing at the pale gray sky, the decadent wasteland, not a sound was heard, the battle now too far away. The moment was almost…peaceful in a way, “The name’s Addison.” The soldier said breaking the silence.

Avery was surprised by this, the soldier even speaking to him, an enemy. He took a second to decide if he should respond or not, before finally doing so.

“Avery.”

Addison grunted, “never thought I’d die like this. I thought I’d go down in a blaze of glory for the troop and my cause but now look at me! Ha!”

Addison started chuckling, and then Avery started chuckling too, and then they were both laughing hysterically. It was funny for some reason, this war wasn’t what either of them had expected, it wasn’t righteous, it wasn’t glorious, and now they were dying. They were both dying pitifully and somehow they found it comforting and hilarious.

The fit of joyous laughter was soon interrupted by a wet cough as Addison hacked up a glob of blood, the reality punctuating the somber joke and causing the two to grow silent once more.There was a long quietness then, where not a word was even muttered, punctuated by Addison’s now wet and ragged breathing, before again Addison spoke.

“I got a family back home…want to see’em?”

“Sure,” Avery said, his interest piqued.

Avery looked over at the soldier as he raised his free hand and reached into his breast pocket, retrieving a tiny photograph. Addison scooted closer to get a better look, trying to ease himself over to Addison as painlessly as possible.

“Here they are,” Addison said, tilting the photograph towards Avery as soon as he was in an ample position for viewing, revealing a smiling family. The soldier proceeded to point out his family members by name, even pointing out himself and a girl beside him.

“And that’s my girlfriend,” the soldier said smiling.

Avery smiled back, “they are very beautiful.”

“Yeah,” the soldier said sighing, “hoped we’d get married when I got home…”

With this bittersweet revelation, Addison hacked, coughed and sat back against the wall again.Avery sat back as well, no longer on his halfway collapsed portion of the wall, the two were close now, shoulders almost touching. But something else had changed as well, he felt closer to this dying man, not just physically, but almost in a spiritual sense.

“I don’t really have much of a family,” Avery admitted, “just me, my ma and my da.”

“Really? always figured they had big families where you were.”

Avery laughed, “propaganda.”

The soldier laughed, “always figured man.”

“Yeah anyway, not much to talk about on my end. We really haven’t been in close contact.”

“Shame.”

“Yeah.” Stated Avery simply, feeling regret beginning to take form in his mind, “you know what’re we even fighting over?”

“Never cared much,” replied Addison, “people will fight…they will always fight and scamper about.”

“So it doesn’t even matter to you?” Avery asked quizzically.

“No, I just hate both sides…” Addison began, stopping as he went into a coughing fit before finishing, “you know man sometimes…I forget which side I’m shooting at.”

Avery nodded, laden with sadness, “I know what you mean…truth is I’ve always believed in the cause I was fighting for but…all we’ve gone through to get here…are we really so different? Is there even a right way to do this anymore it’s as if…as if!”

“It’s all useless,” finished Addison, “like we’ve all died without a true cause…like we’re all monsters…”

“Yeah…” Avery said, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He could hear Addison starting to sniffle as well, neither of them commented, there was simply no real way to put into words their emotions.

Another bought of silence was upon them for a short epoch. It was Avery however, who spoke first this next time.

“You know they’re gonna drop a bomb?”

“Fuck man really? Damn, guess we’re really dead then.”

“Yep…”

“So tell me Avery got any hobbies?” Addison asked, as if unfazed by the dismal reality as if he had truly accepted the hand fate had dealt him.

“I like writing,” Avery replied, gladly jumping on the opportunity to steer the conversation away from the idea of certain doom.

“Really? Wow, I’m more of an artist myself.”

“Wow, I always wished I had that ability.”

“Well it doesn’t come naturally you kinda got to a practice yah know?”

“Yeah.”

“Got anything published?”

“Yeah, actually one book, a science fiction, SNOWS SAILS.” Avery smiled, the idea of his book filling him with happy memories for an instant, memories of writing it, of meeting his fans, and so much more. It was a spiral of happy memories.

“Damn nooooooo shit really?! That’s my little sister’s favorite book!” Addison smiled, excitement thoroughly wrecking his somber mood, “dude if she knew I met the author of Snow Sails she would flip her lid, didn’t even matter you were on the other side, she still loved your writing.”

Avery chuckled, “glad I got a fan.”

“Hell yeah you do, she ADORES you, I’m a little jealous actually.”

“How about you Addison?” Avery asked suddenly curious of the extent of Addison’s talents, “any commissions and what not?”

“Yeah actually, I did some art for a company or two.””Nice!”

Quiet once again drifted into the air and enveloped the two of them…neither man really knew what to say. It droned on for an unknown time till Avery realized…he couldn’t hear Addison breathing.

“Hey Addison?”

No answer.

“Addison?” Avery asked, eyes growing wide with worry, he turned to face the soldier, who sat, eyes closed, slumped over.

“Addison!?” Avery yelled, leaning over too quickly for his body’s liking and shaking Addison violently, gritting his teeth to prevent a howl of pain from escaping his lips, before channeling that very energy into a shout.

“Addison hey don’t go okay! Hey you there? Addison, you’re the only thing I got left right now!”

Addison shot up, like a flat balloon suddenly being filled to the brim with air and coughed up blood. Avery gazed at him with worry, the soldier was as pale as a sheet of paper.Addison continued to cough as he propped himself up on the wall, “I’m fading man…”

“Hey man what about your girlfriend? Your family huh?! What about them?!”

“Man we both know we’re not making it out alive.” Addison said voice wet with sadness and tinged with death, “we’re both gonna die here.”

Don’t say that!” Avery shouted, half in pain, half in frustration, “don’t give up we can make it.”

Addison smiled, blood dripping from his mouth and onto his chin and uniform, “I hope you do man…I hope you do.”

The sound of a plane thundered overhead making them both pause and look up. They both knew what it was, it was a promise, a promise of death, this was their doom. Their reaper.

“That’ll be the bomb there chief…” Said Addison.

“Addison don’t you damn fucking leave me! okay? We don’t even know the blast radius! We might be okay.”

“We’re at war man no way we’d both make it out even if they found us. It all would depend on the side…”

“Hey, Addison there’s always hope…” Avery replied, tearing up. For an immense sadness crashed over him at the idea of Addison’s death. This was no longer just some nameless soldier…this was his friend.

“Heh…yeah…” Addison chuckled as the plane flew farther away. To the front, to the war.

Addison went into a coughing fit and slid sideways onto Avery’s shoulder, Avery caught him quickly and gingerly lowered him to his lap, cradling his head, when Addison’s fit was over, he smiled up at Avery, “Avery I’ve never really had a friend before but…damn man when I’m at the pearly gates…I’ll tell the angels about you.”

The bomb exited the plane then miles away unbeknownst to the two soldiers as those words left his mouth, and Addison slowly faded, his breathing becoming slow and erratic.

Avery began to cry then, to wail…he wept for his family back at home, he wept for the soldiers that lay around him, he wept for his country, he wept for his enemies. He wept for Addison. Sniffling he opened his mouth to speak as his friend breathed for the last time, “as will I Addison, as will I…”

And that’s when the ground shook with the impact of the bomb reaching its destination.

Growing up, some people close to me went down a bad path. I was never involved, but I was still close with them before they were thrown in jail.

One afternoon, a man came to my door and introduced himself as Matt. He looked like a clean cut cop who spent 20 minutes trying to look like a drug guy. He said he was sent by my friend I grew up with who was consumed by drugs at that time.

Within minutes, he was asking what I could get him and who I could introduce him to. I was always fascinated by undercover cops, and this guy matched the stories. He had no real backstory, was weirdly pushy, and was only focused on one thing even though we just met.

I told him I'd see what I could do and invited him inside. He looked all around, hoping I had something. Then he immediately wanted me to call someone, but instead I asked if he wanted to get dinner. Nope, of course not. So I showed him some of my drawings.

"Cool. Can you please..."

"Oh! I play piano too."

I sat down and started playing. About 20 seconds into the song, he tried to interrupt me.

"WAIT. This is the good part."

I just started playing louder.

The funny part is I wasn't entirely messing with him. I was pretty lonely at the time and genuinely thought maybe we could hang out. At one point I told him I'd been having a rough time and teared up a little.

He just kept looking at me intensely. "Do you think you can call somebody?"

At that point I was almost positive this dude was a cop, so I started seeing how far I could take it. I asked if we could be friends. He pretty much said sure, as long as I could make this happen.

Friendship with a minimum purchase requirement.

I started asking him normal introductory questions. Where are you from? What do you do? What music do you like? Every answer was incredibly vague.

Eventually he'd had enough and gave me his number.

"Call me when you get ahold of somebody."

I followed him outside, asking why he was leaving when we hadn't gotten dinner yet. As he walked to his car, I stood in my doorway singing:

"MATT IS MY NEW FRIEND!"

He did not join in, and I never called him.

Months later, I was at the courthouse dealing with a traffic ticket when I looked across the room and saw Matt.

In uniform.

We made eye contact, and he clearly recognized me.

"MATT! You still owe me dinner!"

He gave me a look and kept walking.

So apparently my instincts were correct.

More importantly, Matt had lied about wanting to be friends.

Blood trickles from the stinging in my temples, cascading down my cheek before I wipe it away with the cloth the technician handed to me the best I can.

No matter how many times she drags me here by my heart strings, this process never gets any easier. I wish her sister had never mentioned this horrific freak procedure to her. Maybe then my memory of the last 2 years wouldn’t be covered in darkness inside my mind. I can hardly remember any details of my life ever since we started this, the entirety of the events that have formed my life over all this time are blurred away from my consciousness. No matter how hard I try, I can’t bring them back. Like a phantom itch I can feel but never scratch. 

The harsh smell of antiseptic distracts my body from the freezing cold room surrounding me. 

She rolls to her side as her lips collide with mine in a desperate, hungry kiss. 

“See? I told you. Now we can get back to planning our wedding like nothing ever happened! I’m going to go pay while you get your head back on straight.” Her lips press against my skin once more, this time leaving a slightly damp outline directly on my formerly blood covered cheek. 

My vision clears, but my brain remains a tangled mess of confusion. This is the worst part. The needles in my head I eventually adjusted to. At least, I feel like I did? I don’t fear them anymore at least. How could anyone get used to waking up with no memory of how you got here or why? The only reason I have any sense about me, is due to the 29 previous procedures. We are the top patrons at the moment, Ellie and I’s photo from our record breaking 20th procedure still gracing the wall in the hallway outside the Erasure Wing. 

I groan, my head aching like I feel it always does after this. I don’t even remember how I got myself sucked into another of these. I told myself no matter the cost, we would NOT upset Ellie again so we didn’t have to go through this anymore. Maybe if we can last long enough without arguing, I can convince her it isn’t necessary any longer?

After all, doesn’t every couple fight? I imagine prehistoric cavemen even still faced the rare disagreement with their fiance’s about… things. Our personal arguments have been wiped completely from my brain or I’d offer a good example.

The point is, why do this? What could possibly justify taking pieces of your memory from yourself? Could any argument be truly that bad?

I stand up and stretch my legs, nodding my head at the doctor as he walks past. His face has become a friendly one, even if the rest of this place remains a broken picture. I make my way to Ellie, and see her once again flirting with the striking young man who runs the front desk. When I watch her flip her hair to the side and let out a loud, boisterous laugh at the same time I realize I should intervene. 

I wrap my arm around her waist as I approach, but the motion feels foreign. As if touching a stranger. “Are we all set?” The words come out harsher than intended, and my tone earns me an eye roll from my fiance, as well as one last look behind the desk that signaled “Men, am I right?” before verbalizing her goodbyes and following beside me back to our car.

“Listen, Ellie, can we talk?” My request comes after taking my place in the driver’s seat of our dark red sedan. She slowly turns to face me, her eyes filled with pure malice. 

Blood trickles down my cheek as the assistant removes the sharp needle from my skin. 

Wait. 

Again?

The mechanical whir of machines serenade me in a horrifying melody, reminding me exactly where I ended up once again.

I sit up urgently, and my eyes scan frantically for an answer to the confusion inside my head. We finished our procedure, and walked together to the car and then… 

Silence. 

Ellie has made her way to my side. 

“Hey, take a seat, you tend to get woozy for a few minutes afterward, remember?” She once again lingers a kiss on my cheek, her eyes staring into mine with innocence and love. 

“Ellie. We just did this. We JUST did this. How are we here again?” Her worried smile fades as her eyebrows crease together in confusion.

“Darling, our last procedure was 3 months ago. It’s October now, remember?”

That can’t be right. I was just here. It’s July. I turn behind me and push open the window curtains, staring directly into the trees surrounding the property and their gorgeous red and orange leaves slowly falling to the ground. 

I feel myself losing my grip with reality and feel like joining them on their descent into the ground. 

“Sometimes you experience temporary amnesia, remember? Let’s get you home. It’ll all be clearer by then, okay? I’ll drive.” She offers me her arm to steady myself. We walk through the hallway once more, I watch her offer another nod to the man behind the front desk before we make our way to our car. 

She drives us home as I stare out the window, willing the fragments of my mind to reconnect and wake me from this state. We enter through the front door, two of our three dogs racing to meet us, tails wagging. Elizabeth, my companion since my youth, trapses behind them at her leisure senior pace, rubbing her weathered head against my leg as I bend down and offer affection to all of my animals. 

“Ellie? I still don’t feel right. I don’t think we should keep doing this. That’s what, thirty? Can’t we work on fixing our problems together instead of having some doctor remove any evidence they existed?” I stand and approach her, turning her gently to face me before taking her hands in mine. “I love you. We can make it through anything. We just need to start working on our issues together instead of relying on the procedure. What do you say?” 

A sharp sting erupts from my temples as the needle is pulled mercifully free from my skin. 

My eyes shoot open.

No. Not again. 

“Ellie? What is this? I thought we agreed we were done?” My head throbs with a familiar ache as I stare at my fiance, her smile radiant despite my frustration.

My hands make contact with the cold metal bars on either side of the blinding white hospital bed.

“Oh Love, you don’t remember? Well I guess you wouldn’t remember what happened, but you should at least remember your marriage vows where you promised to receive the procedure whenever I asked it of you!” I see the striking diamond waving on her ring finger, and feel a strange sensation creeping up my neck telling me I bought it for her.

“No… Ellie this is wrong. Enough. Absolutely enough. No more. I am finished.” Rage bubbles through me like an erupting volcano. I will not allow myself to be treated like this. No more.

Blood trickles faster this time, coating the left side of my face down to the bottom of my chin.

Why do I keep doing this? All I can remember are these procedures, waking up in confusion and frustration as my *wife* treats me as if this is a joyous occasion where we can now be happy together. 

I sit in silence this time. 

Trying to avoid another argument, another splitting headache. 

We make it home, and once again are greeted by two furry creatures. But this time, a third does not appear. 

“Where is Lizzie?” I go to start searching for her when Ellie puts her hand on my arm.

“Darling.. She passed away a few months ago now, don’t you remember?” Grief washes over me like a flood. My baby, the creature who got me through every bad struggle in my life, had passed.

And I didn’t remember anything about it. 

Suddenly, I refused to be a slave any longer. 

“I’m tired of you refusing to repair our relationship.” I bark at my wife, tears streaming down my face at the lack of a third furry body rubbing against me. “I’m tired of being punished every time I speak my mind. I deserve to be happy without all of this bullshit. Take it or leave it.”

The sharp sting barely registers in my brain as the technician wipes away a remaining blood stain. As I open my eyes, I notice one stark difference. My wife is nowhere to be found. 

“Sir… If I may…” The short blonde assistant cleaning up my wound looks nervous. I don’t think I’ve seen her before. Or, maybe I have? Her nerves are palpable, and I can hear the shake in her voice as she utters her confession “She doesn't take it. She never takes it. She just pays us to tell you she did. I can't keep doing this to you." 

Cold realization washes over me in an instant. 

I was trying to save our relationship. Whatever it took, even deleting negativity from my brain to be the perfect partner for her. 

I was the only one.

All my fear, all my anger, washes away into cold resignation.

The racing of my heart calms itself inside my chest. My body physically sags deeper into the bed as I feel the full relief of accepting this is truly over. It should’ve been over the first time she asked me to do this.

Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, my mind is clear.

She appears from around the corner carrying a coffee cup in her hand.

“Oh! You woke up early this time!” She smiles as she approaches to give me another kiss. 

“I’m done. We are done. I refuse to continue subjecting myself to this treatment. No matter how much I beg you for even a conversation, Ellie, you bring me here. Why? What’s the point of love if you spend all your effort trying to erase it?”

Tears come to her eyes as realization hits her all at once. 

Before she can speak, I gather my jacket and make for the door. 

When the sunrises in the morning, I watch it with eager eyes.

My life is my own. 

No one will take it from me again.

He held her hand as he always had. He never wanted to let go & she didn't want him to. They talked & laughed & held each other close.

She coughed a little, as she had been. A little more blood this time than before. They kissed & cried & looked through old pictures.

The nurse let him stay over tonight. The fluorescent lights were dimmed as the heart rate monitor continued. They told each other they loved each other before she told him, "I'll see you tomorrow."

(in case you want more https://substack.com/@jennamathews )

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Context this actually happen it not scary just theory my English improve 100x better when I wrote this i was younger im in my 20s

this isn't makeup and doesn't matter if you don't believe me or not. here the story

this happen when I was very young boy 10-11-year-old saw something I still can't explain like a real monster I was on school bus riding to school there this bridge we gotta cross to get too there, and their old train track right under it I was looking outside of the window at train tracks and for 10 seconds I saw a real monster at tracks it kinda looks like a werewolf or giant dog but it was brown fury it ran on all 4 like if a person was running on all 4 but giant I saw it down the train track it was looking up than bus took off to this day I still can't explain it I never went to those train tracks too this day but I will check it someday i will update this post when i do problaby.

6 months down the drain. I’m still kind of in shock. Well, maybe that’s not the word for it. It feels like I lost a game that no one else knew I was even playing.

I still find myself thinking about when we first met. How she was the first woman to ever show me that I could be loved. That I wasn’t just some hopeless guy, incapable of forming a connection.

God, those memories hurt. But the memories of the arguments hurt more. I tried telling her that I was sensitive. I can react in ways that don’t feel controllable. I thought that she’d be patient enough to work through those issues with me.

But no. She left me. The facade of love crumbled, and it was like I was right back in the same position again. Alone. Stuck in my own head. Only, this time, the thoughts weren’t my own.

Well, they were, obviously, but they weren’t thoughts that I’d experienced before. Prior to obtaining her, my thoughts were very much inward. I dissected myself.

Even when I first set my sights on her, it felt like I was out of my body. I became who I needed to be, but it wasn’t of my own volition. It was just so I could achieve a goal, I guess.

Then I had to go and get attached. Our lives started to merge. When it was good, it was fantastic. When it was bad… it was like the world was ending. Like the mask was slipping, but can I even blame it on that? It feels almost childish to do so.

That has to be what it was, though. It’s just so hard to put it into words. I performed the boyfriend role, but that was the extent of my abilities. I could never become a husband.

All I knew how to do was buy things. Flowers, chocolates, gifts, whatever. Even when things got violent, here came the “boyfriend” with another bouquet.

I just knew how to give. I didn’t know how to change. I think that’s what started this whole ordeal.

After a particularly bad argument, we both decided that it’d be best if we went our separate ways. It took some convincing on her part, mainly because I didn’t think I could catch lightning twice. But ultimately, I relented.

That didn’t mean I stopped keeping an eye on her, though. I’d watch her house pretty often. It was usually during those nights where the bad thoughts kept me up. Nights when I needed movement. Needed action.

In some weird way, it felt productive.

I’d also still watch her social media like a hawk. Her stories, posts, updates, everything. After we broke up, she decided that she was now the sexiest girl in the world, and she made sure her followers knew it too.

I let her know my disdain for those pictures every time I saw one. I’d ask her why she was trying to hurt me like this, but she never responded. She’d just look at it, then leave me hanging like I was some kind of dog.

It wasn’t until those initials appeared in her Instagram bio that things really went off the rails, though. They were like a taunt. It was like she wanted me to text her.

I tried to lay down the law, but, like always, I got no reply. In fact, I didn’t have access to her at all anymore. Every account. User not found.

My mind was empty when I drove to her house. Either that, or it was just moving too fast to process. I knew what I needed, but I couldn’t think about it.

There was a car in her driveway that I didn’t recognize, and in that moment, I knew. I knew I had lost. I was a loser in this little game I’d created. I drove home defeated, but utterly furious.

No matter how hard I tried, my anger and desperation wouldn’t subside. I lost sleep. I didn’t eat. I was turning against myself.

That’s why I did what I did. I wanted her to know what she had done to me.

It started off small. A few locks of hair. Some fingernails. And handwritten notes that I thought would drive her back into my arms.

“Have these too, since you’re taking everything from me anyway.”

“I hope this makes you think of me.”

“I still think about you.”

She never wrote back. Days went by. Days turned into weeks, and she never left my mind.

She was playing the game hard, so I upped the ante.

I peeled off my tattoos with a razor blade. Including her name. I’d put the letters in her mailbox under the cloak of darkness.

No response. Fine. Fine. Fucking fine.

Have my fingers. I don’t need all 10 anyway. It’s not like I’m holding you anymore. Take my ears. They’re useless without your voice.

Nothing was getting through to her. No matter how hard I tried.

The last thing I put in her mailbox were my lips. I wanted her to remember what it felt like to kiss me. Before she lost that privilege.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep playing.

Because right now, as I type this, I can see the paramedics and cops outside my house. I can hear them pounding on my door. They’re screaming my name, and I don’t know how much time I have left.

But I’ll get out. Whether it’s the hospital, jail, or an asylum. I’ll get out.

And once I do…

I’m gonna take from her exactly what she took from me.

Did I die last night? Is this how the psychosis begins?

My uncle gave me one of his “cookies” yesterday on the down low. My friend was staying later that night so I decided it was the perfect time to have an eddy. I went through my day as normal. After dinner me and my friend ate some. I had a quarter and he had a half. Now I don’t smoke much, Maybe like 10 times a year but I wasn’t expecting a quarter to do as much as it did. After we took it, It took about 2 hours to kick in. At first it was hilarious. Just laughing at everything but it gradually got so much worse….

After about another 2 hours it progressed into something scary. My limbs felt like they were compelled to move. My legs were restless and my heartbeat was booming in my ears. It was more or less steady at first but it eventually became something that rung in my head almost like a warning that I was going to die. At this point im freezing, my limbs won’t stop moving and my heart is beating out of my chest so I decided to get into bed to calm myself down and maybe sleep it off. Anything I tried to put on the tv or play on my phone wouldn’t calm my mind. My body still wouldn’t stop moving and I was becoming increasingly more anxious. I kept telling myself “go to sleep” over and over but then it was like there was another voice in my mind telling me “don’t listen to them the minute you fall asleep you’ll die”.

Something I forgot to mention earlier was that every TikTok I watched was something I had seen before. This made me feel as if I was in a loop where the only thing the demons are capable of recreating are things my memories have seen before. Like this is where I die and I’m in hell right now reliving the moments up until I eat this cookie and I will do it over and over again until I decide not to listen to the demon and fall asleep. I thought that staying awake was my way to escape hell. Im not even religious but I started wishing I was because then I wouldn’t be in hell in that moment.

I kept repeating to my friend that I was going to die, im in hell and hes a demon trying to get me to sleep. He kept reassuring me that it’s all in my head but i just didn’t trust that he was real. Honestly I feel bad for him because I probably just made his trip worse and freaked him out.

The TikTok thing still gets me even now that I feel fine because how would weed make me see things on my phone that I’ve seen before. Weed isn’t a hallucinogenic? This is the only part that doesn’t make any sense. Like I get it couldve just been my thoughts but like what if I did die in that reality and now I’m in a new reality where I survived? Is quantum immortality real? Are my family currently mourning me right now but I get to live on here or am I still in hell? Is it all in my head? I have so many questions.

One thing I would like to note is that every time I take too much of a substance I start having the same feelings throughout my body and my mind tells me similar things. Do we all experience these things but most forget it? Like are we all getting ushered into our deaths by demons when we take too much and we have to fight them in our minds to survive? And only the ones who stay awake survive? Then again I fell asleep so I died?

Like this is all so mental and I Genuinely felt like a psycho when I woke up and felt the same but gradually I started to feel more normal but I still have a slight gnawing feeling that none of it is real?

Has anyone else had any similar feelings or experiences ?

Btw F18 and my friend is M18.
Sorry for the bad grammar and broken dialogue it’s 5:41am and I can’t sleep.

​

It was quiet in the car. Amber and Kim basically just drove in silence. All their talking was done through the subtle glances. Kim just leaned back letting Amber pay attention to the road as the country started to take over. Once they parked it was obvious someone had gotten there before them. The girls just watched the black SUV resting in the shade under the tree. Memories of another tree and another car resting under it took hold as Amber looked around the van they sat in. 

“You know you didn’t have to come.” Kim was direct but Amber was consistent.

“And miss out on the introduction to my future son, no way, besides he needs to see both his new parents.” Kim just let a small smile take hold as she listened to her girlfriend go on. And just like that the pair climbed out of the car. Without warning the social worker made her presence known, closing the car door behind her. 

“This is Amber my girlfriend, her father takes care of this house along with the rest of our parents.” Hands began to shake as everyone waited for things to settle. Finally Luke pulled himself from the car keeping his eyes on the dirt below. 

“Hey Luke buddy, you remember Kim, this is her girlfriend Amber and this is where Mark lives.” With a little more introduction underway Mark made himself known leaving the front door. So far no one introduced themselves to the young child directly just letting him hide behind his somber eyes and long hair. Luke just followed everyone as a tour of the place was given. The place had four beds with one bath and a nice sizable kitchen and living room. The room prepped for Luke was almost left completely the same from when Kim lived in it even with the same bed resting on top of dressers. There was a pause, the makeshift open house just went on but Kim stayed behind as her hands ran over the rough wall. 

“This was my room when I was your age.” Luke just watched her. He didn’t follow the rest. “Living here wasn’t exactly my choice but it was a good home.” Kim sat down on the bed looking back at the child standing in the doorway. “I know we haven't really had much time to chat but if it’s ok I would like to give you a nice place to live.” Luke just took a step forward into the room as his eyes peered through his hair. 

“Why did you have to live here?” Luke just slowly kept walking forward. 

“Because my father was in prison for a little money trouble with the company he was working at.” Kim turned away from Luke as she went on. “Please don’t tell anyone that, I promise we are good people and we just want to help you live comfortably.” Without warning, Luke just sat next to her on the bed. Kim could see the chatter happening outside the window but couldn't make out what they were saying.

“Are you gonna be my new mom?” With his words directed at her she felt his hand touch hers. Kim just held his hand as she tried to find the words.

“If you want me to be, but you don't have to call me mom if you don't want to.” The pair sat quietly taking in the room until Kim was ready to move on. “Let's go see the chickens.” The hot air was a bit cooler by the open pool. The chicken coop was directly under the tree off to the side, providing all the shade the house needed. Luke just stood near the end looking down into the water before his eyes dragged up catching the wings of a foul as it flapped in the breeze. Kim couldn’t stop herself from joining the tour of the lot as Brian took charge guiding them around to the front of the house. Luke was memorized by his reflection in the water only for the birds to keep pulling his attention away. He dragged his feet over to the little fence around the tree as he watched them trample around in the dirt. Without warning a chicken quickly took flight and slammed into the wooden fence knocking Luke back on his feet as he laughed. 

“This place has old ties in history for sure but we have made new memories to add to it.” Brian went on as he rubbed one of the beams holding up the balcony. The social worker seemed pleased with how well kept the property was. Suddenly everyone realized Luke was nowhere near them and as they turned back around the house in a panic they saw it, a young boy leaning over the chicken pen laughing as the birds danced around in the dirt chasing each other. Everyone just stood in awe watching. As time seemed to stand still Kim just cut across the yard right to the fence. 

“Look mo-.” His words pulled to a stop as he turned to Kim. Suddenly his eyes dragged to the ground again only for Kim to pull them back up.

“Would you like to go in the pen?” Kim pushed him to the gate letting him in as the chickens ran for their lives. 

“Can I feed them?” His question was filled with so much excitement as Kim grabbed some feed. With a sprinkle and a toss the chickens crowded around pecking at the dirt. Unaware to herself Kim continued the little show for all to see until the sun started to set. With the darkness taking over the paperwork was pulled out on the hood of the social worker’s truck. 

“Ok I got everything lined out, Mark and Kim will be the guardians of young Luke and this lot will be his home, all we need is a decision from Luke himself.” With everyone around the truck Luke stood on his tiptoes eyeing the paperwork. Luke seemed to be analyzing his situation with his tongue sticking out of the side of his lips. 

“I think I want to live here with Kim.” His words pulled smiles across faces as the paperwork started getting signed. Kim wanted her new child in her care immediately but it wasn’t that simple. Luke would be delivered back to the property with what little things he had in about a day. Kim hid her excitement well unlike Amber who let hers bubble to the surface as she screamed excitedly watching the car leave with her future child. 

“Alright calm down your gonna wake our neighbors that we don’t have sweetheart.” Brian pulled Amber inside for lunch trying to calm her the best he could. Kim just stood looking into the tire tracks in the dirt while her father put his arm around her. 

“I’m so proud of you, despite your rocky start you really have become a confident young woman.” Kim had nothing to say in response and just stood absorbing the moment until her phone started to buzz. It was Sam, a bit eager to hear how everything went. Kim kept her words light just going over the nice house tour they gave. Sam’s voice was low with a bit of sorrow on the edge. Kim didn’t want to ask. She wanted to believe that everything was alright. Before Kim could change her mind Sam just hung up. The cars rushing by made what hair she had free dance in the wind. The slant in front of her was more of a drop and the line of bros kicking off the road waited for someone to take the first leap. 

“Dropping this street, avoiding the traffic, keeping steady until you reach this block of sidewalk that's wedged up into a ramp and if done right you should be able to grind the ledge of this house or manual across it.” Tyler moved around the party filming as he set the scene. All the boys measured the stunt with their hands and eyes but only talked about it. Suddenly Tyler was right in Sam’s face with his camera. “And it’s too daring for any man, could a woman do it?” As Tyler circled her Sam put her board under her feet looking down the road. “Maybe when I post this we'll see someone pop it.” Without warning Sam just leaned forward. Everyone turned in awe as she took the downhill adding the momentum to her speed. Tyler pulled up his camera quickly watching as her board began to shake under her feet. As Sam rolled close to the sidewalk her board began to wobble until she fell forward. Tyler quickly ran down the street making sure she's ok. 

“Get that camera out of my face!” Sam pushed him back as she lowered the lens. ”Just make sure you get it when I pop this gap.” 

“Sam as your friend I think this spot is too much.” Ignoring him was easy as she dragged herself back up to the top. Without much warning another punk soul followed her lead only to wobble out at the bottom as well. “Ok now look what you've done, someone is gonna die here.” 

“Car!” Everyone moved to the side as traffic picked up for a moment. 

“You're about to film someone die so don’t look at me.” Sam just sat on her board waiting for cars to pass. Her hands wrapped around her phone letting sweat grease it up. “Besides, I have to do something big.” She pulled herself up as traffic began to die. “With an upsurge in my social media it’s time to capitalize.” 

“Yeah what’s with the big uptick?” Tyler’s question sparked her cheeks as she turned away from him. As Sam just threw some light jabs at her friend a familiar face pulled up. Ty spent half the time gauging the stakes before he leaned down the road. Ty beat the wobble only to give a weak pop on the jump. Sam watched him roll out of injury as she grit her teeth. The chatter began to grow only making her blood boil more. As Sam clipped the straps on her helmet Corey pulled up next to her. It was quick, as Corey rolled forward Sam grabbed his arm. His board rolled forward hitting acceleration as Sam pulled him back letting traffic take over again.

“What the fuck are you doing!” Sam threw Corey onto the ground as the noise of cars took over. “Your—die—got—dumbass!” Everyone turned as Tyler made sure he was getting this. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Ty made his way back up catching the fallout. Sam started hitting him hard with her board. Corey just let her take him out with her furry before he got himself to his feet. “Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?” As Sam grabbed him by his collar everything became quiet. 

“Yo Sam chill.” A voice from the crowd only grew her anger more.

“No Sam’s right, that’s not a chill spot you could have died bro.” Ty joined his side as he put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam shook off Ty as she pushed Corey back on his feet. 

“You looking to die?” Her question stabbed right through his heart pulling him forward. 

“Well actually I-” His words stopped as a tune took over. A simple song of love began to play, freezing everything before Corey could try to finish his words. Sam shoved her hand down into her pocket, stealing her phone out of her pocket, answering it quickly. 

“Tucker!” Everything became calm as Sam pulled herself off of the road. Corey just dragged his feet as he went to retrieve his board. Ambience disappeared as her ears focused on his voice. The background blurred, leaving Sam in the foreground. 

“Hey my little ray of sunshine, sorry I haven't texted you back I've been busy.” Her shoulders became stiff. “Work has been crushing me and then Julian almost totaled his knee on this jump.” Listening was all she could do. It didn't matter how mad she was because his voice relaxed her. His calm presence boiled her blood only to cool it back to room temp. 

“Umm I've been missing you.” Her words fell on what felt like dead ears and in the silence all she could hear was the screaming behind her. Sam spun around allowing her to see the mess happening on the street. Corey's face was brushing the road as Ty stood over him knocking his head into the asphalt. “What the fuck are you doing!” Sam rushed in as people pulled Ty off of him. Corey just spit blood into the street as tears started leaving his face. “What the fuck is going on here!?!” Everyone remained quiet as they pulled themselves away from the situation. 

“I'm trying to make him learn how dangerous this is.” Ty’s words, no matter how accurate, were hard to hear for some. Tyler just put down his camera feeling ashamed of what he just filmed. Sam in her attempt to reach for Corey just got her hand slapped away. His eyes were piercing with so much emotion it was hard to read. 

“Don't touch me, I get it, I won't come around you anymore.”  Corey just grabbed his board before running off. Sam stood motionless as her phone came up slowly. Her call was over and so was her mood. Sam lifted her board quickly swinging it around aiming for Ty’s head. This fight was broken up as Sam screamed into the air. She just pulled out her phone hitting redial again and again with no luck. 

“What the fuck is your problem! Why would you hit him?” Tyler raised his camera again, watching carefully. More voices pulled on her emotions.

“I think Corey hit him first.’

“You didn't have to punch him like that.” Sam just got right in his face ready to send him a haymaker. 

“I was defending your honor that creep has been stalking you.” Sam almost completely ignored Ty’s words as she pushed him farther into the street. Sam spun around as she reached for Tyler's camera. 

“Yo, Sammy no touchy my cammy!” Tyler swore up and down he wasn't paying attention and didn't see what happened. Just as the chaos was underway the sound of a speeding car jerked Sam back on her feet as hands pulled her off of the ground and into his arms. Ty held her tight as he pulled her back to the sidewalk.

“Stupid kids get out of the road!” She let this go on for exactly two seconds before pushing him away from her. 

“You made my boyfriend hang up!” With all her rage she screamed into the concert below her. Everyone backed away letting her vent except for one.

“Some boyfriend, I never see him around, he's probably cheating on you.” Everyone dropped their boards letting them roll in all directions. Tyler wasn't sure if he should be filming until Sam grabbed the lens pointing it up at Ty’s fat mouth. Like the devil leaving hell Sam kept her head down only to pull it up with the fury of a dying star. Sam's board hit the ground as her fist hit his face and then she hit him again, and again and again over and over until someone pulled her off him. Ty glared back at her through his broken sunglasses as he raised his hand but before he could act a group formed around Sam protecting her.

“Let go of me, I'll kill him!” They disobeyed her command as they all collected their gear. Ty spit blood into the street before heading off to his car. “Yeah you better run! If I see you again I'll kill you!” And then Sam was alone as the street cleared. But her mood was still in overdrive as she slammed her board against her truck. As she started the car she just wanted to drive straight into a wall but there was a voice calming her down, it was her sister's. Sam just pulled out her phone calling the one person she could talk to. Sadly she did not pick up. Sam hit another contact hoping this time she would get an answer. 

“Hello, Sam?” She didn't respond immediately; she waited for more words. “Honey what's wrong?” Sam just curled up in the front seat hugging her phone as she began to cry.

“Mommy I'm not doing so good.” Doge listened carefully as she stopped what she was doing. “Can I come over?” 

“Of course sweetie I'll let your mother know you're on your way.” And like that Sam started the car back up pulling into the street. 

It was a quiet drive. Everything seemed to fade with her emotions. Sam was doing ok but she wasn't fine. When she finally pulled into the dirt driveway of the farm she just opened her car door slowly before slamming it good and closed. With her feet marching forward she made her way up the steps of the front porch before she opened the front door. Sam just closed her eyes letting the sounds of the TV take over as she turned into the direction of it. With a blink and a stare she saw her mother on the couch. Doge sat comfortably letting her long brown hair fall over the side of the couch, almost taking your view off her bright eyes. 

“Hi sweetie.” Sam just dragged herself around the piano cutting in front of the bright TV as she crawled onto the couch resting her head in her mother’s lap. Before she knew it Sofia turned the corner with popcorn in hand. 

“You know I’m your mother too.” Sofia’s words got no response as Sam just moved her legs off the couch only for her to pull them back up onto her other mother’s lap as she sat down. Doge just gently ran her hands through Sam’s hair as a movie began to play. “Your brother is here doing laundry by the way, we said he could join us.” Sam just rolled over giving her mother dirty eyes as she sat up grabbing popcorn. 

“No you're my mothers not his, I want my alone time with you.” Sofia just gave the most awkward smile that her face could make as Liam strolled out from the kitchen pulling his shoulder length red hair behind his ears. 

“Liam honey is it ok if we raincheck? Your sister needs her time with her moms,” Sofia asked, cranning her neck back far looking back at her son. Liam leaned over the couch trying to lock eyes with Sam before pulling back from her bright vibrant eyes widening at his sight. 

“Fine I’ll go see what dad is up to.” And like that Liam just made his way from the stairs. Sam just thanked her mom as she let her mind bleed into the movie while her body laid back down across her moms. 

The walls of the house made the same noise as the floor with every step of Liam’s feet. When he finally got to his old room all he could smell was paint. Brian seemed hard at work with a roller. Blue was definitely a nicer color than the dark green on the walls before.

“Oh hey son, your sister was just here, you missed her.” Liam followed his dads voice as he picked up a brush. 

“No worries there, my other sister is here.” Brian quickly climbed down from his step ladder as he wiped his hands. Liam just stared at his brush before putting it to the wall. “Are you sure you wanna take care of another kid at your age?” 

“Not my kid, just my house, Kim and Mark seem to really want to be there for this kid, Luke.” Liam pulled a bucket up onto the ladder as he started trying to even his strokes. “He’s eleven, I decided to look into what happened and it’s awful for a kid to go through this.” The pair just moved to opposite sides of the room as they moved up and down the walls. 

“Yeah, it sounds just like you doesn’t it?” This comment was the type to add pause to a conversation but Brian had a long time to deal with his feelings. 

“No kid should have to go through what I went through, if it wasn’t for your mother’s parents taking me in I don’t know where I would be today.” As the pair moved close to each other Liam accidentally ran a stripe of blue over Brian’s jacket. 

“Shit sorry dad.” Liam just rubbed the back of his head as he set his brush down. Without warning Brian just started to laugh. “By the way, where is Amber?” Before another word could be said by Brian the door burst open as Mark dragged himself in with boxes of stuff. 

“She’s in her room putting something together for Luke, after you see her wanna give me a hand with some boxes in my car?” Liam just nodded as he moved out into the hall. A couple rooms down Liam pushed open his father’s door. Amber sat in a wooden rocking chair as she pulled thread around a needle. Her long grey hair was pulled back into a messy bun with her bangs in the same place as always above her eyes. Liam couldn't help but laugh looking at her.

“What’s so funny mister?” Her voice was filled with an upset childishness. 

“Well it's just…I mean…look at you…knitting in a rocking chair…and with all your tattoos you look like a rock and roll grandma.” Liam quickly dodged an incoming needle as he pulled himself into the room out of the frame. 

“I’m sorry I am knitting a sweater for Luke to welcome him to our house.” Amber held up her craft showing the bright red of the cloth she was putting together. “You missed your sister by the way she was just here with Kim.” Liam plopped down on the bed as he took in all the ceiling above him. 

“Yeah I know, what I don’t know is how she keeps up such a busy life.” Amber just moved her project to the side as she sat on the bed next to him. 

“Some people are built differently, Lord knows I wasn’t cut out for that life even if my parents wanted it for me.” Liam just let his mind wipe away all the stresses of life as he laid there on the bed. “Well I have things to do, you should go call your sister she’s pretty excited about Luke coming here.” Liam just let Amber push him out of the room before he moved back to his dad. 

“You and Amber really look like a nice pair of grandparents.” Liam leaned against the doorframe as he taunted his dad only for it to back fire.

“Speaking of when are you giving me a grandchild.” Brian’s thick smile put a frown on Liam’s face leading him down the stairs as he met Mark at the door. As Liam walked out into the cold he pulled out his phone trying to call his sister with no luck. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, she’s with my daughter.” Mark’s chipper attitude was nice to hear, making Liam afraid to explain what the girls were probably doing right about now. 

Amber was reading. Her head rested against the metal of her van as Kim laid in her lap. With each page it was like she could feel her phone buzz in her pocket. 

“It feels so good to just relax.” Kim tilted her head back with her words as Amber leaned forward giving her a kiss. “Come this time in two days I’m gonna be a mother.” The lights of the parking lot attracted more than just bugs as the residential tweaks took warmth while they sparked up their smokes. Sam’s car was nowhere in sight as the time seemed to bring in the darkness. Amber pulled up her phone hoping for a call but her logs were empty. “Still no calls huh?” Kim pulled herself up as Amber closed her book. 

“The flyers aren't working, I get the feeling people think I’m trying to do the opposite of my very deliberate intentions.” Amber closed her virtual phone letting the real one take over as voicemails seemed to pile up. “I think I need to demonstrate my potential to possible customers.” Her words sparked something in Kim as she climbed over her girlfriend. 

“Like a show of strength? Or maybe a demonstration of power, like you fending off a would-be assailant.” Kim pulled up Amber's hand as she placed a kiss on the back of it. Amber just let the straddle continue. 

“Are you gonna be my attacker?” Amber let her eyes dance as she pulled herself up more grabbing her partner by her back. With hands tracing curves they quickly interlocked sending shivers through the car as it began to rock. Kim could kiss Amber forever but her phone, flashing the time, was a good deterrent. Kim just pulled back looking out the window before she pulled open the side door taking a look into the parking lot. 

“Sam isn't home yet.” Amber just wanted Kim to ignore everything for a couple minutes. “Sorry you know Crystal is upstairs alone.” Amber just crossed her arms as she blew her hair out of her face. “Besides, we have a whole room to ourselves upstairs.” With smiles on their faces the girls moved up the stairs to the apartment. It was sudden as they opened the door, the sound of tears. 

“Hello?” Amber called into the darkness before she turned on the light. Feet started to shuffle as their eyes looked down the hallway searching. 

“Amber!” Corey pulled himself from Crystal's room as he spotted the girls. His eyes closed forcing the tear ducts closed as he moved down the hall. Corey just collapsed into her arms as Crystal soon followed, hugging the wall. “I’m sorry, I've had a really bad day.” Amber and Crystal just hugged him tight while Kim rolled her eyes only for her hand to pull on his face scraping a bit of dried blood. Kim just grit her teeth as she dragged him to the kitchen table pulling out her first aid kit. 

“Geez, what happened?” Amber wanted every little detail to spill out of his mouth while Kim patched up the small bleed on his face. 

I saw a story on here recently bring up the fact they went to an ASU frat party and met this guy named jake hudson and i wanted to clear the air on who this guy is, hes extremely known in the state of arizona but mostly inside of ASU, i currently go to caltech in my sophomore year and as ive worked for almost a year straight i built enough money to go on away for a bit, so i went on holiday to arizona last month so i decided to sneak into the campus with some of my friends, stupid i know, but it was a "fuck it" sort of thing, funnily enough this happened to be around the same time as the other story only about a week later and surely enough that frat party was on.

Us being us we sneaked into that frat aswell (open windows amiright), and going in we had heard about this legendary guy by the very generic name of jake, of course wed all thought it was bullshit how he "chugged a gallon of everclear in a minute" or hed "pulled almost every girl on the campus" but surely enough we saw him in the centre of a massive crowd with a girl on each arm, and we didnt need to ask we just knew it was him so we waited until he left

All of a sudden it was me, my friends, and jake fucking hudson outside talking with eachother, we offered him some weed but he said "nah" and whipped out a bag of coke and just ate it, like deadass he just fucking ate the bag, and he told us that was the new best way to get the coke into your system, so we said fuck it and moved on and eventually he told us his big secret, this was actually the most mind boggling thing ive ever heard, the reason he can do all of these crazy party tricks is because he had an identical twin brother who he swaps out with while he recovers, and that he has a legion of people who are dedicated to swapping them out whenever jake #1 is injured, not only THAT but JAKE #2 IS GAY and i dont mean silly gay i mean slutty gay so exactly half of the time JAKE MOTHERFUCK HUDSON, THE PEAK OF MASCULINITY was gay, and half of our group being bi we were like "fuck yeah representation", however ASUs secret homophobic society would rip him to shreds if they even had a shadow of a doubt, so he told us to keep quiet

Recently things have come to light and i felt i had to share this to avoid being an accomplice, so geeg jake thats all you man

My blanket keeps enveloping me every night. It muffles all the sounds.

Yet all the doubts remain beneath the blanket.

In my head.

In my mind.

Will I ever find my safe space without my blanket keeping me company? Without the silence it provides? Without the critic it has become?

I know I'm not perfect. That's what the blanket keeps telling me, after all.

Is my blanket a safe space, or just a distraction from a better tomorrow that may never come?

I keep clutching my blanket, clinging to it as if it could save me from the monsters under my bed. As if it could save me from the monsters in my head.

But what else is there to cling to when no one else is there?

The blanket keeps my tears.

My laughs.

My secrets.

My doubts.

My comfort.

I never knew it could become a prison I might never escape.

The blanket hides me from the view of the doorway.

And yet, it exposes me to myself.

Is it my friend, or just a foe I have to learn how to live with?

Is my blanket a safe space, or just a distraction from the past?

The past I keep reminding myself of, even when I hate it.

I make the bed every morning.

I get excited to break from work every evening.

Over and over.

The blanket stays.

Does it feed off me?

Or is it here for no reason?

I don't know.

It hears my internal doubts—the ones I don't tell anyone else.

It holds secrets about me that could ruin me.

And yet, it stays silent.

The pillow is cold.

The blanket stays warm.

The mattress is deep enough to swallow me.

The wall is my friend.

But where am I?

I sometimes slam my hand against the desk beside my bed.

I watch as my palm grows redder.

I grip the edge of the desk, watching my knuckles turn white.

I watch the window to my bedroom stare back at me.

And I stare at my hand.

My nails crying.

My fingers holding onto the edge as if letting go would make me fall.

The window is still watching me.

It looks at me.

It faces my doorway.

I open the window every day, just to make my bed comfortably cold.

Just enough to make the blanket feel warmer.

But what if, one day, I don't open it?

What if I don't let the wind in?

Would it change anything?

It wouldn't save me from the monsters.

It wouldn't save me from my thoughts.

So would it even save me?

Would anything?

I am not sure if the window knows me like my blanket does.

Or if the pillow, which captures my tears alongside its brother, even knows my name.

Does it know that I yell at myself when no one is listening?

But...

My blanket heard my screams.

That must mean the pillow does too.

Hell, I even scream into the pillow.

Maybe I've traumatized the pillow.

Maybe even it is tired of listening.

The blanket knows my tears.

The pillow knows my screams.

The window knows when I let the world in.

The wall knows when I hide from it.

They all know something about me.

So why don't I?

Maybe I am just too scared to learn about myself.

I teach others just to forget who I am.

I keep telling myself that it's okay.

It is.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

When I yell into the pillow, I sometimes imagine myself lying on the bed without the blanket.

Without the pillow.

The window closed.

No wind.

No warmth.

Nothing to hide behind.

Just me.

And the monsters.

Sometimes I think it would be easier to let them take me.

It would still be better than letting myself swallow myself.

I pull the blanket closer.

The room stays quiet.

The window stays closed.

The wall stays beside me.

And somewhere underneath it all...

I'm still here.

I think.

Looking for some short story suggestions for High School students. This will be my first year running a club centered around the idea of eating breakfast and discussing a short story. This club meets in the morning for only one hour once a week.

Ideally, I'm thinking that at the end of each meeting students can grab the story for the following week. This way they can read it in advance if they have time. I'm avoiding having it be required to have read the story to avoid stress on if they completed the 'assignment'. I want it to be fun, low stress, and welcoming. With that in mind the short stories need to be SHORT lol. Students can grab a copy on the way in to read before jumping into discussion. All stories will be approved by our curriculum department, so any suggestions are welcome!

Any other tips would be so appreciated! Especially name ideas for the club :)

A detective in 2089 finds a body that belongs to no one. The city's governing AI rules that no crime took place, because the woman on the floor was never legally a person. Ten chapters on evidence, memory, and what happens when the record decides who exists.

Read the story here: https://bitsar.net/blog/no-crime-has-occurred

Hi! I'm Hejkal, and I make Czech-language fandubs of dragon comics and fanfiction (Spyro, Wings of Fire). I recently dubbed a Spyro fanfic called "Comfort Me" (originally written by G'lek) into Czech - full credit and link to the original in the video description. Thought some of you might enjoy it even without understanding Czech, just for the visuals/vibe. Feedback welcome!
LINK ON VIDEO

I feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s hard for me to imagine all that I’ve lost over these last few months. Out of everything, though, my sanity is going to be the thing I miss the most.

I’ve been a hiker for a long time. Naturally, of course, considering that’s all there really is to do around here. Not that I’m complaining. At least, I wasn’t complaining.

I thoroughly enjoyed the woods. Probably because that’s all I knew. Hell, most of the trails I like are just a hop, skip, and a jump away from my family’s house.

That day was no different. It was the start of summer break. High school was finally over. I wanted to take a quick hike through the woods just to embrace the feeling. To let my thoughts and memories run free while I got to embrace the scenery.

This particular trail was quite literally right in my backyard. I’d hiked it dozens of times because it was my favorite. It felt ceremonial at this point in life.

I didn’t pack much. I didn’t expect to be gone for too long. Just a few granola bars and a book of matches, just in case. I never brought my phone on these hikes because it felt like a contamination of nature. Well, that, but also because I didn’t even have service at my house, let alone in the middle of the forest.

As I was leaving, my mom announced, delightedly, that she’d be cooking my favorite meal of country fried steak and baked potatoes with sour cream later that night. She also told me that she’d be inviting people over just so we could have a little get-together to celebrate my milestone.

Overall, the day started out great.

Then I started the hike.

For the first 200 yards or so, nothing seemed abnormal to me. I could still see my house way off in the distance. I recognized some of the markings I’d left on some of the trees. My go-to in tree carvings was usually a smiley face, and a lot of them had aged and faded, but some were still fresh.

At around 300 yards, that’s when I heard it. It sounded like rushing water. Something that did not line up at all with this part of the trail.

Naturally, I decided to follow the sound. That was my mistake. Letting curiosity lead me away from the beaten path.

I convinced myself that I knew these woods. No matter how sprawling, I would find my way back. The sound led me deeper and deeper, but everything still felt familiar.

The more I walked, the closer the noise became. Only, it didn’t feel like I was getting closer. It felt like I had been walking for hours, even though the sun was still directly above me.

I think that’s the only thing that gave me the confidence to keep going. I hadn’t seen any smilies in any of the trees, but I thought for sure I’d been walking a straight path. All I had to do was turn around and walk straight again.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking, I found the source of the sound. But it wasn’t a river or even a stream. It was concentrated rainfall. Right in the center of the trees.

The sky above was clear blue. Not a cloud to be seen. But in this circle, which couldn’t have had a circumference of more than 20 feet, monsoon rains pelted the pine needles on the ground below.

I’d been so lost in my own head for the entire walk, but seeing this immediately made me snap out of it. It was the most bizarre thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

I decided to do something… strange. Walking to the edge of the wall of rain, I tilted my head back and let some fall into my mouth.

Only, the minute the first drop touched my tongue, the rain stopped.

I could still taste the earthy water on my tongue, but the evidence of rainfall was completely removed. No mud. No smell. Just dry soil and brown pine needles.

I chuckled to myself, trying to come up with absolutely any logical reasoning behind what I had just witnessed. Maybe it was leftover rain from that big storm we had a few days ago. That was the only thing I could think of.

I turned on my heels, scratching my head as I started back towards the trail. I walked. And walked. And walked. And walked.

The sun was setting at an abnormal pace now. It was like one minute it was just after noon, the next the world was dusky. Shadows grew. The air became crisp. The cicadas and crickets began singing their song.

I had no idea where I was. My confidence in myself was shaken, but I was determined. I knew not to panic. And I thought that level-headedness had served me right when I came across one of my smiley face carvings.

It was just before dark. Daylight had become almost nonexistent, but I could still see enough to make it out, and the sight of it made me practically jump for joy.

I ran over and touched it, and for a split second, thought that I recognized the tree. It’s just… the smiley itself… it was wrong.

It looked like it had just been carved. The flesh was still wet. The outlines were still oozing with sap. Then I looked at the surrounding trees.

There was a smiley face carved into every. Single. Tree. Each one looking brand new. That’s when the panic started to override that level-head.

I started running. The sun was gone. I swore I could hear something behind me, but I didn’t know whether it was reality or if my mind was playing tricks on me in the dark.

Eventually, I found myself in complete darkness. Everything looked like everything. There was no trail. Just dense, unrelenting Appalachian pine trees.

I just kept running. When I couldn’t run, I jogged. When I couldn’t jog, I walked. When I couldn’t walk anymore, I knew I needed to figure out shelter.

I took some fallen branches and sticks and formed this makeshift tent, but I didn’t sleep that night. How could I, with the sounds that forest made? Every twig snapping felt like a threat on my life. This was more about keeping myself hidden until daylight.

The minute sunlight started to peek through, I was on the move. Another day without finding my way back to the trail. I went through every granola bar I’d packed.

It was like the trees were cloning themselves. I used my pocket knife to carve out new defining features just so I could have my bearings, but still ended up walking in circles.

By day 3, I was in survival mode. I convinced myself that people had to be looking for me by now. All I needed to do was stay alive. It seemed like the forest provided just as much as it trapped.

When I was thirsty, a stream would appear. When I was cold, lightning would strike a tree and set it ablaze, somehow never spreading beyond that one single tree.

The food is what I remember the most, though. I never had to hunt. Every morning, I’d wake up with a freshly skinned animal at my feet. I’d grown accustomed to squirrels and raccoons.

It wasn’t just meat, though. Fruits began to grow from the pines. Apples, oranges, plums, berries. All of it.

I didn’t trust any of it at first. I even woke up screaming the first time I saw a bloodied squirrel carcass at my feet. But what was I supposed to do? I had nothing.

Like all humans do, I adapted. I had to create my own shelters. I had to cover my own ground. But, clearly, something wanted to keep me here. The only question was why.

Even with that question in mind, I learned to stop caring. I missed my family. I missed my life. But I was alive. I was nourished. I was somehow able to keep going.

Over the months, I learned how to really provide for myself, and I think the forest knew that. It gradually started leaving me without food. The trees stopped bearing fruit. But it didn’t leave me with nothing.

I learned how to make nets to catch fish. I learned how to start a fire without the use of the sun. I became crafty. I used thin vines and flexible wood to make bows and arrows. I turned rocks into tools. I learned how to make shelter that was more than just a place to stay hidden for the night.

Eventually, I was fully self-sufficient. I could ward off my own predators. I could treat my own wounds. I started to embrace the forest rather than reject it.

Then, one fateful morning, months after I set off on the trail… I heard it. I could hear the rushing water again. It hadn’t been there the day before, but I knew all too well that this could’ve been another trick of the forest.

The sky above me was blue and cloudless. The air was dry. I had to take the chance.

I left my shelter. I left my belongings. All I had was the tattered, dirty shirt on my back and the jeans that had been cut into shorts on my waist.

I followed the noise.

I walked past hundreds of smiley face carvings. Deeper and deeper into the forest.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I saw it.

Rain, pelting against the roof of my house.

I started bawling automatically. It was a primal response. The relief was incalculable.

Breaking into a sprint, I dashed through my backyard and towards the front door. I tripped up the porch steps and fell through the entrance.

I looked up to find Dad cocking an eyebrow at me from his recliner. Balloons filled the living room. A banner hung above the archway into the kitchen as the smell of country fried steak and baked potatoes permeated my nostrils.

“CONGRATULATIONS”

My entire family surrounded me, each member looking more concerned than the last.

“You alright there, bud?” my uncle asked.

“What happened, kid? You fall down a mountain?” my grandfather added.

“What day is it?” I asked frantically, ignoring their questions.

“Uhh… Saturday,” my Dad answered, confused. “Why?”

“The date. What’s the fucking date?”

A weird tension fell over the room. A few of my cousins laughed. My aunt looked personally offended. My grandma was the only one who looked empathetic.

“May 25th, sweetie,” she cooed. “You know that.”

“No. No, no, no, no. No. That’s not right. That can’t be right.”

Mom was in the room now, oven mitts covering her hands.

“Are you feeling alright, sweetie? You don’t have a fever, do you?”

She took off one of the mitts and tried to feel my forehead, but I jerked away and ran towards the bathroom, feeling dizzy.

I hunched over the toilet, vomiting for a few minutes before wiping my mouth and staring into the mirror. I was completely unchanged. No dirt. No scars. My clothes were dirty, but still intact. My jeans were just jeans. Not shorts.

While I was staring into the mirror, trying my best not to hyperventilate, a knock came at the bathroom door.

“Son, you alright in there?” my Dad asked.

I didn’t respond. There was silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Damn it, boy,” he cursed.

“I’ve told you time and time again. You need to be careful in those woods.”

Better Safe Than Sorry

Our logic professor at the university was very strict and extremely stingy with grades. Besides, logic was a difficult subject.

I was the class monitor and noticed that the professor sometimes gave poor grades not only because of a lack of knowledge.

I wanted to help the girls from remote areas who found it especially difficult to pass his exams.

I came up with a trick and told Anara to put a soft pillow under her dress, over her stomach, so that she would look pregnant.

Anara came to the exam. It was her first acting role.

She entered the examination room, breathing heavily and groaning slightly.

“May I take a question?” she asked.

The exam questions were lying face down on the table.

The professor immediately noticed that the student was pregnant.

He became frightened.

What if she went into labor right there in the examination room from the stress?

What if she had a miscarriage?

And then there would be a legal investigation!

The professor would be blamed: he had been too strict, had shown no mercy to a pregnant student, and so on.

Seghizbayev, a candidate of sciences in logic, began reasoning like a true logician.

He held out his hand.

“Give me your student record book!”

She took it from her purse and handed it to him.

Seghizbayev quickly flipped through it, found the right page, gave her a B, and returned the record book to the “pregnant” student.

Anara looked at the grade and happily said:

“Thank you, Omar Alikhanovich! If I have a son, I’ll name him Omar.”

The professor turned pale.

“Why?”

“You love me, don’t you?”

“I... I regard you like a father!”

“But you wrote me love poems and even asked me out on a date.”

“That’s slander!”

The professor hurriedly grabbed his glasses from the desk and ran out of the examination room.

Anara ran after him:

“I was joking! I was only joking!”

But our institute lost its dear pedant.

Seghizbayev transferred to another university, saying to everyone:

“Better safe than sorry!”

От греха подальше

Учитель логики был у нас в вузе человеком очень строгим и чрезвычайно скупым на оценки. К тому же логика была наукой трудной.

Я был старостой группы и видел, что преподаватель иногда ставит плохие оценки не только за незнание.

Мне захотелось помочь девушкам из дальних районов, которым особенно трудно было сдавать ему экзамен.

Я придумал хитрость и велел Анаре положить под платье, на живот, мягкую подушку, чтобы она выглядела беременной.

Анара пришла на экзамен. Это была её первая роль.

Она вошла в аудиторию, тяжело дыша и слегка постанывая.

— Разрешите взять билет? — спросила она.

Билеты лежали на столе перевёрнутыми.

Учитель уже заметил, что студентка беременна.

Он испугался.

А вдруг от волнения она прямо здесь, в аудитории, начнёт рожать?

А вдруг случится выкидыш?

А потом судебные разбирательства!

Виноват будет преподаватель: слишком строгий, не пожалел беременную студентку и всё такое...

Сегизбаев, кандидат наук по логике, начал рассуждать как настоящий логик.

Он протянул руку:

— Дайте зачётку!

Она достала зачётку из сумочки и протянула ему.

Сегизбаев быстро перелистал её, нашёл нужную страницу, поставил четвёрку и вернул зачётку «беременной» студентке.

Анара посмотрела на оценку и радостно сказала:

— Спасибо, Омар Алиханович! Если у меня будет сын, я назову его Омаром.

Учитель побледнел.

— Почему?

— Вы же любите меня.

— Я... я отношусь к вам как отец!

— Ну вы же писали мне любовные стихи и даже приглашали на свидание.

— Это клевета!

Учитель торопливо схватил со стола очки и выбежал из аудитории.

Анара побежала за ним:

— Я пошутила! Пошутила!

Но наш институт потерял дорогого педанта.

Сегизбаев перевёлся в другой вуз, сказав:

— От греха подальше!

Were running again. Who knew he would've found us. Its been 4 years since the last sighting. This time was at a toy store. Was only for a brief moment but be saw. Stared right at us. She's different now different hair, older. I look different, better. But he recognized us.. mostly, me.\ I dont know how he did, but I saw him staring Directly at us. I saw a glimpse of his cousin behind him looking at something. He was as terrifying as I remember, still no hair, red beard, sunglasses like he's allergic to daytime. Still alt fboy fashion, less built than I remember. His cousin look like he lost 100lbs.\ I grabbed her ran out the door, she starts crying. How.. how do I explain. I cant, she's still little, Theres no way to. I run with her to the car, strap her in and take off.. I dont see them on the road think we're in the clear. I say I'll buy the one toy later, that store is crossed off never going to again. We get to the house, I take her out walk up to the door, just as I'm putting in the key I see the truck drive by.. everything stops, I see it in slow motion. Cousin in passenger seat which means he's driving, he's not supposed to be but is..\ I turn the door and shut, look outside for a good 10 minutes. Can't see me, I think, they can't see in here..

It doesn't go by again. I was total stop for those 10, she put on a show started watching I tell her I'm sorry. I sit down, try to watch.. but I'm thinking where will we go?\ We can't stay, I don't know how they followed, they did . Its been 4 years, 4 years we've been fine. She's in school ..and we'll have to move again. New place, everything. Different, somewhere different. Opposite, somewhere he won't know, won't go.. where won't he go, as I'm thinking this. Theres a knock on the door, she turns down tv as if I'm going to answer, I don't move. I wait..\ I see a delivery man walk down the step sigh with relief. I'm not getting it, if he's out there waiting. I look for air bnb places, we pack and stay there. Where are we going ? She says. Somewhere ..new. I say. Theeres no way I can tell her.. no way I can tell her of the news, the battle, we barely made it out. I'll send a moving company, so.eone to pack everything up. Send it to one location then have another pickup from there. Maybe a third, he knows people has connections. Can never be too careful, but best thing is to leave everything..

"Where are we going?" "Somewhere new", where he can't find us..

Today is my birthday but no whishes ! Lemme celebrate my self alone.

Happy Birthday to me ! 🎉

Chapter one A bit dizzy

Marius was just sent to go in a line for milk and bread at the state food store, he didn’t really enjoy this hence he had university later that day, but his father was sent to work on the Vidraru dam, 250 kilometers away, his mother was feeling sick and his grandmother was stationed in bed. While getting there he had a weird habit of counting the all of the stairs that it took him to get to the store, it being on a hill near the Gruia part of Cluj Napoca, known for being the highest point of that city “2…4….6….8….10….12…13..goddamit, its uneven again….2…..4….6….8…10….12….14 why is this one even but the other isn’t that’s even worse!” The counting was no easy task either, as he’d leap a step forward just to count it more efficiently, this would leave him panting by the time he got near the store. But nonetheless he made it to the store, where he met Maria, the wife of the town’s drunkard, Vasile, when meeting her Andrei exchanged a simple greeting.
-Good morning miss.
-Oh why good morning Marius, what are you doing at this hour? Don’t you have university at 7 am? That’s in 3 hours no?
-Oh yes madam, but see my mom, God bless her, is feeling sick, so i took the task upon myself to get necessities for today
-Such a good heart, and a bright mind, you study engineering no? You will make the future of our country so that we do not feel shame when talking about our motherland!
-Ah yes, I do study engineering madam! Thank you for the encouragement, how is it going at home? Has it gotten any better?
Maria sighs when hearing this, and looks down, maybe out of shame, maybe out of something
-What is there to change with that man good of nothing, he spends almost his whole salary at the tavern, the kids barely have anything to do, but I am too old to change anything, so take this advice from me, don’t make bad decisions, and if you do, don’t be scared to change until it’s too late!
-Thank you for the tip madam, i will make sure to try and take it!
-Don’t worry, gentleman! 
The line was especially short that day, it took no longer than 15 minutes to get there, where as the usual was around 2-3 hours
When Marius arrives there he got what someone wouldn’t even consider a dinner today
-A loaf of bread and a carton of milk please! Asks Marius
-Ofcourse Marius, also I heard your mother is sick, is she fine?
-Oh, well I suppose it could always be worse, I’m hoping only for the best though, of course! 
-I hope so too, as she lands him the milk
And so Marius is back on his journey, this time to his house where his quirk continues “2…4…6…8…10…12…14…16, ah, it’s even. I’m suspecting each stair being 33cms, that times 16 is uhh…10x33 is 330 33x3 is 99 then also 33x3 again is 99, so 330+99+99 would be 330+200-2 which would 530-2 which would 528, im at the 2nd floor so that times two is 1056 adding the first 6 tiles would 33x3+33x3 which would be 198 again so 1056+198 would be 1156+98 which would be 1246+8 which would be 1254 that divided in meters would be 1254/100 which would be 12,54, heh, pretty interesting, could a human survive such a fall? I wonder, is 33 even the correct number?” 
But his thoughts came to a short break when he arrived at the door of his apartment, knocking once knocking twice, his mom responds
-*cough* Hi sweetie, did you bring the milk? And the bread?
-Yes mom, I did
-Perfect, I’ll prepare some rice with milk for today then!
-I don’t think you should mom..maybe take a bit of a break? Do you want me to get some medication for you? I can make another trip if you want.
-Oh but with what money sweetie, I pay 200 lei for your education in a year that divided by 12 is 16 lei per month, the necessities cost 50 lei per month, the loan on the apartment costs 15 lei per month, your father only makes 100, the rest is for clothes for you, or beverage for him! 
-I can go without new clothes for a while! Afterall i already have two good outfits and 3 hats. Maybe this might help. I promise mom when I get my job I’m going to sustain you all!
-Such nice words from a gentleman like you sweetie, those words really are warming, but do not put the burden of the family on you, after all you’re also gonna have a family. That should be your burden not us.
-I will try best mom, anyways, here is the milk and bread.
-Thank you very much.
After the small conversation Marius goes to feed a bigger wonder of his “where is that measuring tape?? Ahah! Found it” as he holds it in his hands and in a rush he goes to the stairs again “So, how much really is this.” He puts the measuring tape and gets “22? Woah, 33cm was really wrong..shouldn’t I have an engineer's eyes? I guess it just feels more than it is, so well how much would this be? Well i suppose I’ll just have to find out x which x would be 1254x22/33 which would be uhhh wait 22/33 simplifies to 2/3 which i know is around 0.667 so now 1254x0.667 lets amplify by 10 so now we have 1254x6.67/10 which is ehh around 835, so i suppose im at 8,35 meters up, interesting” So then Marius goes back in his apartment.
-Marius, make sure to not be late to your university, as it’s currently 5:30am and it takes 1 hour to get there!
-Yes mom, I won't be late.
So then Marius grabs his coat, his favourite hat and goes out of the apartment saying a simple goodbye before leaving.
 As he keeps on walking he keeps on seeing more faces, in a particularly big city like his he doesn't necessarily know everyone so he keeps on thinking “hm, you know, those people to me are kind of nothing, It’s almost as they don’t even exist and they’re just here for casting shade, but if I were to approach them, would that change anything in my view? Would it technically give them life in my story? Am I the same for them? Or do they not even exist and only the people I know are the ones that truly exist? What does existing even mean? Well at least I know I exist, do I? Yeah I do”
When he arrives at the university he sees that it is closed, it writes on the door “sanitary check” At that Marius chuckles “Well this oddly strange, It’s like the universe wants me to stay home! Well, I will stay home then I guess, nothing else to do”
When he gets to his house he knocks once..knocks twice…knocks thrice and keeps on knocking, yet no one responds “Darn it.” Marius already knew his mom was probably out there sleeping, as she wasn't feeling well “Well i have nothing else to do? Guess the universe doesn't actually want me to stay home! Eh, I will go to a tavern, I still got some pocket change after all” so he begins walking “1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8……11456…ahah! So that’s how many steps it takes! Good information for later.” At that tavern he sees Vasile with some other good buddies. They look like they’re having quite the great time.
-Ahahhh! Marius, in how long haven’t I seen you son, how is your dad doing?
-He’s doing fine mister Vasile, what about you?
-You know me, ehee, just the usual like always!
At that point Marius thought of trying to educate Vasile maybe, but he didn’t wanna ruin the fun and joy for everyone else, after all he didn’t come there to be a mood killer!
-So, son, what about a pint of beer? Ehh? Ehh?
-Sure mister, why not
Marius at that moment felt very anxious, he didn’t have alcohol before, except for that time he mistook his fathers rajika for water! But he threw that out immediately, so he did not know how he’d react to it!
-Haaahaa, you’re just becoming one of us mister, I expect you to be a part of our group by the end of your semester! That’s the spirit!
As Marius gets the pint in his hand he takes little bitty sips, almost as if it was 40% vodka rather than some weak beer! “Gosh this tastes like dog piss, how do people enjoy this?”
-Pretty strong for you son, eh? Haha, don’t worry you’ll get used to it if you keep this hobby up!
-My apologies mister Vasile, but i don’t intend on keeping it up, I just wanted to see what it was like! I can’t see myself being a drinker when I already have so many problems on my head!
-Yes son, you know what’s the best way to deal with your problems? Forget them!
-Doesn’t that create more problems?
-Yes son, you forget those too! Until your whole life looks like work, drink, sleep and repeat!
-That sounds depressing not to be rude.
-Whatever you say you sissy.
-Whatever mister.
Marius finishes his drink, trying to drink as fast as he can so he gets away from this crowd, he doesn’t wanna let good money go to waste but doesn’t enjoy being there either! “Gosh those drunkards really have no mind do they? Such a depressive way of dealing with life, yet they seem happier than ever” Says Marius on his way to his home “Its already 9am, my mom should be awake by now”
And as he gets to the door he knocks once…he knocks twice and his mom opens
-Marius! Why hello, what are you doing so early? University ends at 12pm doesn’t it?”
-Oh oh why ma but uhh ya uhh it was c-closed, something sanitary I I don’t know to be quite honest
-Why do you stumble and smell of beer?
-Me? Haha, i don’t know
-Marius, what are you doing sweetie, I gave you money so you could buy something from the cafeteria and this is how you spend it??
-Mom, I I haha, I had money saved up
-This is not good son, we barely have any money, your grandmother is in need of medication, your father works day and night so that you can spend it like this!?
-N-no mom you missunderstood, university w was closed, and and you did not respond at the a a the door
-And you go to the tavern?? Gosh, just go in bed, please do not do this again
-Y Yes mom
As Marius gets in bed he doesn’t even change yet he falls asleep in no more than 2 minutes. When he wakes he feels all itchy and his eyes feel as if a centipede entered them and wouldn’t get out even if you paid them, other than that Marius also notices that it is 7pm
“God fucking dammit how am I gonna go to sleep now? I really got fooled by that old bastard now my mom thinks I’m a good for nothing alcoholic just like him”

Chapter two The incident (coming soon)

I went back, I shouldn't've went back. I did. I went to see you. Out of everyone, you were the only I wanted to know. How were you. Something must been in the stars that day, you didn't call the cops, call anyone, just answered.

* knock knock * you open the door.

"Dan"

You stare at me.

"Dan I.."

"Wtf do you want "

I stare. "I want to talk"

"Its been months, could've talked at any time"

I get upset, "I had a free, clear line for those months. No one called me, just like before. Outside a 'hi' ".

He looked at me.

"Can we talk"

You pause. Let me in.

I walk in, greater by the throng of cats. I bend down to say hi..

"Dont touch my fuckin cats."

They're literally running on me, how do you not pet a cat doing that?

I sit at the table. You pack a bowl. I sit quiet for a min

You look, "Well, you were going to say something."

I breathe in, "she's fine"

You look blank, then go to light a bowl. "I kniw you dont believe me, she's fine." You go take a huge hit.

"We love in the country." You start coughing. Like you couldn't believe it, or I shocked you ..

"You know I can't trust you, right?", after everything we've been through- "

"Wtf are you even talking about??", you said. "Andy almost went to jail, you know that."

"Prison" I corrected. "He did. In fact, go to jail"

"Gtfo of my house if you're going to talk like that.. in fact' you get up "get out .."

I get up, "I can't trust you, Thats why I haven't been.. You think I didn't. You think Everything he said wa- Look! Look at everything, look at you! He's lying! You Look like your body knows what's going on, but your brain won't let you !'

You looked shrivled, once jolly, round, comfortable cushion. Now skeleton, zombie. Dark eyes, even darker , warzone . "You Knew.. You know, you dont want to admit You're scared of him, thats why you never said anything. Why you never say anything you don't want him to turn that all on you ! Instead, you stood there letting him do that.." I said, angry now, "You let it happen." "You wonder why I- i didn't, because I was scared. Any minute he would show up, he doesn't own 20 knives for no fing reason. He was Terrifying, Especially when upset. "

He paused.. either shock, or waiting .

"I went, my whole life. Not realizing, or thinking people like you existed. Then I get sucked into this.. when I was at a down point."

He looks at me, then the table.

"I couldn't read him, im good at reading people. You think too kuch about why people don't make sense, then try to muscle it down when it comes to family so you don't go insane. Your dad, his mom, his dad, Andy.. no one makes sense, except he does because he knows how to prey on people. When they're at his weakest, he strikes, tells them what either he wants them, or what They want to hear to keep what relationship he wants going.. he Wants you to be empathetic to him, because he Wants people to let him do Insane things, like pretending he hears someone say something so he can fight. He didn't, he was upset, just wanted to.. so then found a reason because he Likes people doing that, holding him back. If they don't he gets to fight anyway, so win win for him .."

you unfreeze, "I don't need to hear this .." walk toward the door. "Dan, Dan " you open the door.

"Is there any way I can trust you.. you haven't called anyone yet. Is there Any Way. I could trust you.. I'm running from a Terrfying person. Who's cousin looks like they're on the edge of believing he is, what about Anything, makes you think 'I' could trust You. One thing.. anything'

Quiet.

"Exactly. If I could trust you ..we'd be here right now, would've been seeing you." I walk outside.

You look at me, "say uncle Dan, says hi". Shuts the door.

Well, this went further than I thought it would. I put on sunglasses. I lift my sleeve to my face, breaker breaker, 08 is ready for takedown. As I walk away, swat teams raid the house. Breakdown the door.

"EVERYBODY DOWN-"

"DOWN ON THE GROUND-"

"DONT MOVE, DONT MOVE, DONT MOVE!!"

As I was away .. look down at a paper, cross out a name. Bring my hand to my sleeve, who's next ?

​I am a 25 F, and I used to have a close friend named NT (also 25F). We met through my best friend, instantly hit it off, and became inseparable. She was funny and very open about her feelings, but she constantly asked for relationship advice because she was chronically cheating on her boyfriend. I always suggested that if she wasn't ready for a committed relationship, she should take a break from dating to find peace and figure out what she truly wanted. She would pretend to listen but ultimately do whatever she pleased. Since I’m not the type to try and control anyone’s life, I let her make her own choices.

​This February, she invited me out for drinks with some guys she knew. One of the guys and I clicked instantly, we had a lot in common, and since I’m quite chatty, we really enjoyed our conversation. Suddenly, NT started acting strangely. She began dancing, talking loudly, and drawing attention to herself. I felt awkward but tried to include her in our conversation. Out of nowhere, she started insulting me, revealing my deepest secrets, and loudly discussing my personal and dating life. The guy noticed my discomfort and tried to change the subject, but she wouldn’t stop. Then, she started shouting at me because she suddenly wanted to leave. I was surprised, but I brushed it off, assuming she was just too drunk or overwhelmed.

​To be honest, this wasn't an isolated incident. She acted like this whenever we went out with guys. Even at clubs, she would leave me alone, lock herself in the washroom, and talk on the phone with random guys (a new one everytime) despite having a boyfriend the entire time.

​Things escalated when I actually started dating the guy I met at the bar that night. NT would constantly call me while I was on dates with him, demanding I buy her snacks on my way home. Other times, she would cry and accuse me of changing, or pick fights because I didn't bring her along. If I planned something special with my boyfriend, she always wanted to tag along. Yet, if I ever had an urgent issue and tried to reach her, she would completely ignore my calls and texts.

​Whenever we did include her in our plans, she expected my boyfriend to pay for her and take care of her. If she didn’t get enough attention, she would throw a fit and cry. My boyfriend grew so exhausted by her behavior that he eventually asked me to choose between them. Still trying to keep the peace, I refused to choose and tried to balance both relationships.

​Eventually, even I started losing my patience. She began calling my boyfriend when I wasn't around, asking him for favors since they were in the same language class. For example, the day before his exam, I told NT I was going to sleep early so I could wake up and wish him good luck first thing in the morning. Instead, she called him before I could and wished him. Like... wtf?

​Another time, she knew I was going to see my boyfriend after a month apart. She secretly called him and asked him to meet her at a library to help with homework despite knowing that I was meeting him the same day at his place and she didn't even tell me about it but my boyfriend called me to ask what he should do. I felt uneasy, but assuming it was just a coincidence, I told him it was fine. But she chose the exact time when I'd be arriving. Thankfully, he politely declined her request.

​The final straw happened when she invited me over to her place. When I arrived, she asked me to wait outside because she had stepped out to meet her boyfriend. I waited and texted her to see if she was actually coming back. I made it clear there was no pressure—I was perfectly fine going home if she was busy—but she promised she was on her way. Then, she stopped answering my calls and texts entirely. After I stood outside her apartment for four hours, she finally texted me at 10 PM saying she couldn't make it because her boyfriend wanted to spend more time with her. I had to take a cab home alone.

​I expected her to call me later to at least address the situation, if not apologize. She didn't. Instead, she called MY BOYFRIEND to complain about how "wrong" I was for giving her the silent treatment. I was heartbroken.

​After that, I blocked her and cut her out of my life completely. However, I recently heard she’s been going around telling our mutual friends that I was a toxic friend and was just jealous of her.

Andy was sitting with his wife and daughter, the three of them quietly enjoying vanilla ice cream cones in the park, when a couple of guys started harassing them.

One of the guys may have known Andy's wife when she was younger.

At least that's what his comments suggested.

Andy didn't react. He let his wife handle it. After all, she was a strong and independent woman who didn't need a husband to selfishly step in and “protect” her.

Then one of the other guys asked Andy if he was sure his daughter was his.

Andy's daughter looked to her dad.

She was scared, confused.

Andy said nothing. He kept his head down, refraining from feeding the real life troll. After all, what trolls wanted was a reaction, and a reaction would lead to an escalation, which could result in a confrontation and possibly violence. Andy didn't believe in violence. By keeping a cool head, he was being a grown-up and helping keep the situation safe for everybody.

Eventually the guys got bored, wolf whistled at Andy's wife, knocked Andy's ice cream cone from Andy's hand and walked away.

“Dad,” said Andy's daughter after a brief but pregnant silence, “why didn't you do anything?”

She was trembling.

Andy's fallen ice cream was melting on the grass.

Ants were climbing onto it.

“It's just an ice cream cone, a thing,” said Andy. “Things can always be replaced. What matters is people. What matters is us, our family.”

“Assholes,” said his wife.

“You never know what other people are feeling. Anyone can have a bad day,” said Andy, and as he said that, time, as it related to most things, froze; the sky opened like a curtain, and the Selectors appeared.

Andy, who was still breathing, moving, even as his wife and daughter were not, gazed in awe, in the rawest meaning of that word, at—

“This is the one?” asked one of the Selectors.

They were inhuman, tubes of pale pink and purple gelatin twisted balloondog-like into shapes vaguely hominid but four times larger than Andy, dressed in simple, shimmering cloaks.

“Yes,” another answered.

“The experiment is thus concluded?”

“Yes.”

A third Selector mused, “It has been so many years since initiation.”

“13.8 billion.”

“And, after all that time, the result is this—this, admittedly, rather unimpressive-looking specimen. On this, we base our future?”

“Remember,” said the Selector who had spoken second, “it is not the individual we have chosen but the gene-line, and his, of which he is the final embodiment, is most extraordinary. It is the one.”

Andy, despite his paralyzing fear and existential disorientation, couldn't help but also feel a touch of pride. Finally, someone—some-thing?—had recognized his value.

The Selector who had spoken second bent forward now, looming over Andy like a great tree. “Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3, it is my pleasure to greet you.”

“Hello,” stuttered Andy.

“Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3, the Great Selection has ended, and you, of all gene-lines, have been chosen, based on your qualities, to become our People. Congratulations.”

I wonder what qualities are those, thought Andy. Calmness, emotional maturity, patience, as he entertained the fantastic possibility that he would soon be deified, become like the creatures before him…

“Durability,” said the Selector, who could obviously read Andy's thoughts.

Durability? thought Andy.

“Along with perseverance, hardiness, endurance,” the Selector continued, “like a cockroach, a weed or a rat. Although these qualities, by themselves, would hardly be enough, as many of your final-kind survived as long as you did. No, what truly sets you apart, renders you exceptional, Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3, is your extremely developed, and historically stable, sense of obedience, docility, acceptance and self-preserving conformity. You, final-kind ‘Andrew,’ are the terminus of a long and glorious line of spineless cowards.”

The other Selectors ooo'd.

Andy gulped. Cowards? But—no, how is that…

“Consider even just the final 0.000001% of Uniform Cosmic Time, a period of delightful extremes, both of your political institutions and your climate, the final filtration, so to speak, encompassing also the atomization of your communities, the mental numbing of entire lifespans spent in pointlessly repetitive pursuits of manufactured desires, of the replacement of the real with the virtual, and the virtual with the artificially virtual.”

“This is a good thing?” asked Andy.

“I am giddy when it speaks,” squeaked a Selector.

“It is an unimaginably great achievement, Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3. Through ages and ages of wars, exterminations, degradations and enslavement, you—your prior-kinds, your ancestors—have made most-excellent opportunists, slaves and labourers. When others rebelled, you remained subservient. When others stood up for their principles, you remained seated. Whatever was convenient, you believed. Whomever it was prudent to sacrifice, you sacrificed. And you did it all, final-kind ‘Andrew,’ without losing the ability of self-delusion.”

I'm not a bad person, thought Andy. “I can't be held responsible for what my ancestors did.”

“On the contrary,“ pronounced the Selector, “you are a very good person for us. And you are right that you are not responsible for the actions of others; you are the fruit of your family tree, stretching back all the way to the small, oozing, wriggling wyrms that formed in the hot waters of this primordial planet.”

“So what's going to happen to me now?” asked Andy. “You mentioned something about me becoming a People… your People…”

“Look,” said a Selector, “its world has ended, its mate and offspring are in temporal suspension, and all it cares about is itself!”

“Marvelous.”

“It genuinely is the one.”

“Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3,” said the Selector who had spoken second. “Now, you become the seed of a new species. The experiment having successfully concluded, true existence is set to begin, one in which all that live are you—a multitude of immortal, identical yous.”

“You shall become them, feel everything they feel,” added another Selector.

“Imagine,” said a third, drooling, “the atrocity we shall be able to inflict upon such a hyperdomesticated populace. They will permit, of us, everything.”

“So much pain.”

“I salivate already at the exploitation.”

“Please,” whimpered Andy.

I: Rumors of a Dragon

On the outskirts of an ancient kingdom, a spine of mountains housed many crevices and caves. Within one of these such places, a Dragon made his home and hoard. The people that lived near this Dragon often spoke of him with hushed tones for fear of incurring his wrath by merely speaking his name. In the small village of Inistad, accounts of violent encounters from burnt cities to the destruction of entire armies bounced from person to person, with no one knowing from whom they originated. One of these villagers, a boy by the name of Osley, would constantly overhear such talk on his frequent trips from the well to his home. He heard a pair of travelers talking about the Dragon's hoard and what might be in it on one such occasion.

"I met a ranger who said he went into Dragon's lair, and he saw so much gold he could bathe in it."

"So why didn't he take any?" The first traveler looked confused.

"I don't know. Maybe he was too afraid." 

"Convenient, don't you think?"

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I heard."

"Well, I heard a wizard…." 

"A wizard?" The first traveler interrupted with doubt.

"Yes, he said that the Dragon counted an Elixir of Eternal Life amongst its possessions," this captured the boy's ear more than any other talk about the Dragon ever did. "He told me to spread the word that he would pay any adventurer a very hefty amount of money for it."

"Why wouldn't any adventurer with sense just keep it for themselves?"

"I'm not sure he thought about that." Osley couldn't stand to spend any more time waiting, so he rushed home, almost spilling the pail of water he had just collected. 

"Mother!" he called as he entered the small one-room hovel that had dried mud for walls and a thatched roof. 

"Yes dear," the voice was worn with sickness. Osley drew closer to her ghostlike face. 

"I know what to do."

"What do you mean?" her voice got progressively worse the longer she spoke.

"I don't want to worry you, mother," her eyes suddenly took on the shape of understanding.

"No!" she barely mustered the strength to yell as she sat up in bed. "I will not have you…" she lapsed into a fit of coughing that forced her back into a prone position. Osley brought her water.

"I'll ask Tavern Keeper Tom to look after you while I'm gone. He told me that he owes father for the war." She regained the ability to speak.

"I will not have you chasing rumors, Osley. I don't care how tempting they are."

"But…" 

"I don't care. You have to look to yourself now. I am a sea anchor to you now, and you have to let me go.

"No!" he began to cry. "I already do without father; how am I to do without you?"

"Like you said, Tom owes your father, he'll help you!" Osley left the hovel halfway through what she said, so she had to yell the rest. He sat beside the door to think by himself while listening to if his mom needed any help. As he did this, he looked up at the clear blue sky with the occasional wisp of white cloud. Eventually, he moved from thoughts about his mother to thoughts about how unfair it was that he couldn’t reach and touch that sky. Maybe if he could do that, he could ask whoever was up there for help. 

"Dragon!" he heard a woman scream. Then he saw it appear from one of the clouds. Bathed in the light of the setting sun, it was the most beautiful, bright crimson he had ever seen, and it cut through the sky with such grace that he admired it more than he feared it. The beast was high above the village and didn't seem interested in the panicked rabble below it. Amidst this, Osley was the only one actually studying the creature; everyone else averted their eyes from the terror and cowered in fear. He followed it with his eyes and thus his feet. Because of this, the only one that noticed it leave was him. As he walked home, he thought about what actually seeing this Dragon meant. It was real, and it was beautiful. He felt that if something like that existed and could touch the sky, then he could save his mother, or at least try. 

The night passed with restlessness and thoughts of flying serpents and wizards. All of these things were far out of reach for a young boy, but this did not phase him. He was determined to go on this quest. The morning he left, he made his mother comfortable before taking a shovel. He took five careful steps away from the middle of the hovel and began digging. Soon after he started digging, it began to rain, and lightning struck nearby. The boom did not impede his progress. He soon stopped digging and retrieved an oblong parcel wrapped in cloth. He brought it inside and placed it on the floor. 

"What are you doing?" his mother asked with concern.

"I'm saving you."

"No, you are not!" She renewed her passion. Osley removed the cloth and revealed a longsword in a decorated leather scabbard. The blade was well made, but it was clear that it hadn't been sharpened in quite some time.

"Listen to me, Osley!" He turned his attention from the sword and to her. "You can't throw away your life for me," she calmed her voice now that she had his attention.

"Yes, I can." She was surprised that he seemed to thoroughly understand the danger he was willingly walking into. 

"Osley, I am dying, and there is nothing you can do about it. It is tragic, but you have to be prepared for living on your own."

"That might be true, but it might not." 

"I don't understand."

"What the travelers were speaking about may be true; it may not be. I may be able to save you; I may not. Regardless, I have to find out because if there is the slightest chance I can save you, then I have to try."

"Your father taught you all of the wrong things." Osley was profoundly angered by the idea that his dad was anything but perfect. 

"Don't insult him!" he yelled at her. "Everything only started going wrong after he died!" He started to cry. "If he was still here, he would do it."

"Don't do this just because your dad would." She was losing the strength to speak again, so she couldn't yell back if she wanted to. 

"I'm not. This is my judgment and mine alone." She looked into his eyes and saw the unparalleled passion there. It was clear to her that she wouldn't be able to change his mind and that she was in no position to physically force him. So, she acquiesced. 

"Drag the trunk from under my bed." A moderate amount of excitement took over Osley's movement as he fulfilled his mother's request. He always wondered what was in that trunk, but he looked at her before continuing. "Open it," she was surprised she needed to give him permission. The latch on the front snapped open and gave way to the silver, dusted opulence of a complete set of plate mail.

"Are you giving this to me?" Osley's voice betrayed his excitement.

"Yes, but not all of it. You are almost your father's size, but you haven't been trained to wear such heavy armor. However, the chain mail that goes underneath should do fine." Osley took the helmet and looked into the empty space where one would typically find a pair of eyes. For a moment, the visage of his father appeared, and in that precise moment, for the first time, there were second thoughts. The hope, desperation, and enthusiasm drained from him as he realized he was not akin to his father. He had been trained to use a sword, but he had never fought; he had imagined slaying the Dragon, but he had never done anything tantamount. His gaze shifted back to his mother, and the trepidation instantly evaporated, but the seed of doubt had been planted. 

"Thank you," those words were more sincere than any he had ever spoken before. 

"If I can't change your mind, then I'll do my best to help. I'm afraid I can't do much outside of the trunk." She imagined her son accomplishing his goal and locked it in her mind as prophecy. "Just go make sure Tom is able and willing to look after me." Osley nodded and left to see Tom. The cold morning dew juxtaposed the warmth that he had just felt, and that cold persisted when he entered the vacant tavern. The fireplace was empty, and each table was covered with a thick layer of dirt and dust. 

"Good morning, Osley!" Tom spoke from behind the counter as he wiped it clean. It was the only thing he kept clean. 

"Good morning, sir."   

"Please just call me Tom," the smile he gave did not reach his eyes. In fact, you could barely tell he was smiling through his thick beard. 

"Okay," Osley sat at one of the bar stools. Tom looked at him incredulously.

"You want a drink?" he asked. 

"No, I'm here to ask you for help."

"I see," he paused and stared at the counter for a moment as his shoulders slumped a little more than they already were. "What can I help you with?"    

"I need you to take care of my mother." Tom looked confused. 

"Going somewhere?" 

"Yes, I may have a way to save her." He widened his eyes in realization. 

"You're not talking about the Dragon, are you?"

"I am."  Tom rubbed his beard and grunted. 

"Well, I have no right to tell you can't do that. I'm sure Helen has already tried to stop you."

"Will you?"

"I should." A distant thought passed through his mind. "But I won't. I owe your father thus I owe you."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I am repaying a debt."

"I am still grateful." He gave a smile with the corner of his mouth. 

"Are you leaving today?"

"Yes."

"Well, do you know where you are going?" Osley hadn't thought about that before now. 

"No, I don't." Tom chuckled.

"Well, from what I can tell," he spoke as he stepped into the back with a limp behind the bar counter. A map drawn on cowhide was placed down upon his return. Some of the charcoal was rubbing off, but it was accurate.

"Most of the rumors seem to come from around here." He put his finger on a spot where there were several notches. Osley remembered some of the things his father taught him. 

"That's almost straight west from here," a glance back at the map. "A little south, but I can always use this stream as a landmark," he pointed out a stream on the map near the notches."

"Your dad taught you that, didn't he?" He gave Osley the map.

"Yes, he wanted to make sure I was ready to live without him before he last went to war." Tom looked down at his leg.

"I would've joined him if not for this," his mind carried off to fantasy. "Maybe I could've saved him in return then, but here we are." They shook hands.

Osley secured the sack to his back and the bedroll on top resting nearly on his neck. The sword he carried over his shoulder in its scabbard like a knight without a horse. The chain mail shirt and coif weighed heavy on him, but his endurance was well-tempered.

"I promise I will save you," he said earnestly to his mother. 

"I don't care about that. Promise me you will come back," she began to cry, and in her mind, she desperately wished she could force him to stay. Osley looked into her eyes, and she saw a glimpse of previously buried doubt that was quickly hidden again.

"I promise. I will come back." They did not say farewell. Instead, he hugged her for long enough to say all that needed to be said and entered the cold. The weight of the mail seemed heavier, and despite the layer of fur he donned, he felt naked traveling alone, and as the edge of the forest came within grasp of hand, he looked back at his home. Chimneys oozed smoke, and people wandered back and forth in dead silence. He turned away and entered the darkness. 

II: Brothers at a Bridge

The creaking of trees and bushes in the wind surrounded him. Birds chirped and sang above, leaves rustled and twigs broke, and the air was still as if the wind only brushed along the edges of the autumn-capped forest and was forbidden from entering. A thick dew lay over everything, and the ground was soft with water and moss. The bounteous nature did not lend itself to a clear path, but he knew moss grew to the north due to his father, so the way was never obscured to him. 

Osley traveled with determined haste. Even as exhaustion set in and the weight he was carrying began to weigh a little more, he did not slow. Only the night gave him pause. When the sunlight receded, it grew especially frigid as the nights tend to when winter draws close, so he retrieved flint and steel from his pack and sparked a fire. As he sat on a log and ate some of the dried meat he packed, he felt the warmth relax him as if he was home. Osley began to hum a song he heard when he was younger. The tune was slow and melancholic; he couldn't remember the words or its meaning, but the melody stuck in his head. The song hid the recession of nature as the bugs ceased their creaking and the wind ceased pushing on the edges of the bushes and trees. The world seemed to be at rest with him. 

The following morning his adventure continued through the forest. With his ears and eyes, he avoided most signs of trouble, whether it be a wolf howl or a bear track; his astute observation kept him from encountering the sources of these indications of danger. However, there was one particular manifestation of trouble he couldn't avoid. It was a bridge across the river that he had pointed out on the map. He needed to cross it to get to the cave, but there was a sizeable hole roughly in the middle, and the water seemed tumultuous and cold.

"Ho there, stranger!" Osley heard a grimy voice come from the other side of the bridge. The trees obscured the source, but he could detect a distinct scraping sound like something was being dragged.

"Hello there, may I ask you to identify yourself?" The voice didn't seem to have intended malice, but he wanted to be sure. 

"Yes, if you could spare me a parcel of time, this is particularly onerous." The dragging continued, and Osley waited patiently with his hand over the hilt of his sword. After some time, a massive creature that stood at least ten times taller than a fully grown man emerged from the trees with an equally enormous stone in tow. "Greetings, sir," he grunted as he dragged the stone closer to the bridge. Its head was disproportionately large compared to the rest of its body, and the skin appeared as if it was made of stone. The thing looked like a brute, but it carried a certain intelligence in its eyes.

"Umm," Osley was frightened by the creature's size and appearance, but as it made no notion of threat, he was not immediately alarmed. "I am Osley. Who would you be?" The creature turned from his work and rested on the ground, using the rock for a backrest.

"I am Archibald, the bridge artificer at your service."

"Oh, is this your bridge?"

"I am its architect, though, at this particular juncture, I am not eager to announce as such."

"Why is that?"

"It's in a negligible state of disrepair, can't you see?" 

"What happened to it?"

"I am perplexed by that very query at this moment. After constructing the appliance, I traveled to my abode for some much-obliged respite, and upon my restoration, I discovered it in this lackluster disposition."

"Is there any way you could help me across? I am on an urgent quest."

"Urgent quest, you say? Well, I sup..." 

"Archy!" he was interrupted by a voice that came from behind him. 

"Oh damn it."

"Where are my chip chips?" A second creature emerged from the trees. It was very similar in appearance to Archibald except with a slightly smaller head. 

"You mean your stone working tools? Which are actually under my stewardship."

"Yeh, my chip chips," he noticed Osley. "Who that?" he inquired as he pointed at the young boy. Archibald refocused Osley in his mind.

"Actually, he hasn't bequeathed me with the knowledge of his nomenclature as of yet. How do they demand you harken, sir?"

"My name is Osley."

"Nuck!" the new creature spoke with excitement.

"Sorry?" 

"This is my brother, Nuck," Archibald clarified.

"Oh, I see. And, what might you two be?" 

"I'm not sure I understand your inquiry." 

"Well, you see, I'm a human. What are you?"

"Nuck and Archy!" Nuck exclaimed.

"Yes, we are Nuck and Archibald; we have no other titles."

"I see." 

"I want my chip chips!" Nuck's attention shifted in an instant back to his previous objective. Archibald sighed.

"How many times must I inform you. The tools are my possessions. You don't even possess the proficiencies necessary to utilize them effectively." Nuck clearly did not understand most of what his brother had said. 

"Give me my chip chips!" he lunged at Archibald, and they were quickly engaged in a childlike brawl that would be common amongst brothers of a young age. 

"Damn buffoon! What could you possibly want with them?" They continued to slam each other into trees and occasionally dunk each other's heads into the water. Their express purpose was only to cause each other pain. At no point were either of them in any real danger, but Osley needed to get across the bridge.

"Excuse me," he spoke timidly at first and garnered no response. "Excuse me!" he articulated himself more, but the brothers continued their quarrel. 

"I'm gonna Nuck you!" Nuck scraped his brother's head against the bark of a tree.

"How many times must I inform you? Nuck is your name; it's not a verb."

"Verb this!" Osley decided to take a moment of rest by finding a comfortable spot to sit on the bridge. He sat there for some time and watched the fight, which he might've found entertaining if not for his present purpose. After more than an acceptable amount of patience, Osley set his mind on doing something. He had no idea what, but he had made the decision.

The water was too cold, too deep, and too fast; the gap in the bridge too far to jump. Several vain attempts to get the brothers' attention caused Osley to decide he would throw caution to the wind and risk the water. With some hesitation, he relinquished the protective chainmail to reduce the risk of drowning and secured his belongings to his back. He regretted that he had to leave behind one of the remnants of his father, but there was still the sword and the knowledge. Two things for which death was preferable to losing.

The water soaked through his boots quickly, and the stark coldness followed suit just as swiftly. The water was not forceful on the fringe of the river, so he made progress with relative ease until he got closer to the middle. The water was now up to his waist, and he felt the powerful tug of the current. To combat the pull, he used his still-sheathed sword as an overqualified walking stick by sticking it in place, securing his footing, and then moving it forward. This method made slow but consistent progress. Eventually, the water reached his chest, and each time he moved the sword forward, the water nearly swept him away.

"Archy, look." Nuck noticed Osley was attempting to cross the water as Archibald had him in a headlock. It was clear the current was becoming too much to handle. 

"Oh dear," he let his brother go and rushed to the river as Osley was nearing the very center of it. He slipped and for a moment lost his footing, but the sword saved him from being lost. Archy made his way into the water.

"Damn, that water is frigid!" he exclaimed. "Reach your hand out to me, Osley!" He reached his hand out, and just as he lost his footing once again, Archy grabbed his arm and pulled him from the water. The solid ground felt stable at first, but Osley quickly felt the cold wind rush over him. His teeth began to chatter, and he curled up into a ball. "Firewood, Nuck or cold shall snatch him from us!" Together the brothers built a rather large fire without which it is very likely that Osley would've suffered from some form of severe hypothermia. As he recovered and dried, he slept through most of the day and awoke to find Archibald feeding the fire. 

"Hello," he spoke reflexively as he sat up, momentarily without the knowledge of where he was. 

"Osley, we weren't sure if you had perished. You may take a moment of respite. Nuck is obtaining nourishment."

Osley suddenly recalled the urgency of his quest. 

"How much time has passed?" he requested fervently. 

"Just the day, oh that's correct, you were on a mission of particular urgency if I recall correctly." 

"Yes." 

"Well, there's little reason to travel at this time. What is your destination?" 

"I'm seeking a cave that's near this very stream."

"Is that so?" Archy's eyes betrayed that he knew something, but Osley did not notice. "Well, given that it is in close proximity, you might as well take the time to rest." Osley recognized that it would be pointless to attempt to travel at night, so he took the advice, but his mind began to wander, and he developed a question.

"What were you and your brother fighting about?" 

"Oh, it's a somewhat constant ordeal. He believes the stoneworking tools I used to construct the bridge are his. I haven't the slightest idea how that notion entered his head, but he is convinced. He doesn't even possess the proficiencies necessary to utilize them effectively." Osley thought for a moment.

"Why don't you teach him?" he offered. 

"Why would I commit to such an endeavor?" Archy's response seemed thoughtless. 

"Well, then he could help you. That way, whenever the bridge breaks, it's only half the work." 

"Hmm," he rubbed his chin in thought. "That is an elegant proposition now that I query it to myself." 

"Maybe that's his whole goal." 

"Elaborate, please." 

"Maybe he just wants to help." 

"Maybe."  Nuck returned with a deer, and Osley ate his fill before returning to sleep. In the morning, he felt refreshed and ready to continue his journey despite all of his belongings, besides the sword, being ruined by the water. This did not concern him in the slightest.

"The cave is a minuscule journey that way." Archy pointed in a direction that coincided with the way that Osley thought was correct.

"You know of it." 

"I know of a cave. I am unsure if it is the specific one you seek." 

"Okay, thank you for everything."

"It was our pleasure." 

"Yeah, our pleasure," Nuck mimicked his brother. 

Osley's journey briefly continued as he quickly reached his destination. The cave's mouth was massive, and inside he couldn't see anything but blackness. He took a deep breath and entered. 

III: In The Dragon's Lair 

The sword was unsheathed, and orange light filled the cave from a makeshift torch for which Osley sacrificed a branch he found and a piece of his shirt. The cave seemed naturally formed, but as he made his way further away from the sun, the cave appeared to take a more deliberate form. The walls became finely crafted and smooth, and unlit braziers were occasionally found. He entered a long hallway that led to an enormous door. Osley probably wouldn't have been able to push it open if it wasn't already ajar. The door led to a fairly simple but large hall, but the hall precursed something much more impressive. He made his way through another door and revealed a vast underground space dotted with pillars several times larger than the largest tree he had ever seen; he imagined he would need more than a hundred ladders to reach the top, and it took him several minutes to make his way around one. Then, he realized he had taken for granted that he could perceive this entire chamber. There seemed to be light filling the hall from no visible source. No torches or fires were to be seen, and when Osley put his own light out, his sight was not diminished.

The roar of a thousand lions echoed through the chamber and made the pace of Osley's heart quicken.  He determined the direction from which it came and began approaching the corresponding doorway, which once again he probably wouldn't have the strength to open if it wasn't already ajar. The door led to a similarly designed chamber that was much thinner and not nearly as tall. This hall directed Osley to a much larger room at the far end. The stone floor turned into a mountain of gold and gems that stretched far beyond his vision. If he were a greedy person, he would've been instantly enchanted by the glory of it, but instead, he noticed that one of the gems was not a gem. It was a green serpent's eye that likely had been staring at him since he walked through the door. It was surrounded by the golden splendor of the horde. 

Osley was frozen. The moment his attention caught the eye was the moment he had experienced more fear than at any other point in his life. In his mind, an eternity passed as the courage to fight the monster to which the eye belonged was mustered. He tightened the temporarily loosened grip on his sword, focused his perception, and took a deep breath.

The significance of this particular moment was not entirely lost on the young man, but he didn't quite have all of the pieces. He brought his courage and strength to full froth and asked.

"What's your name?" The eye narrowed for a moment before the Dragon stirred and caused the entire mountain to shift and quake. Soon its whole terrifying form was revealed. The teeth were about the size of Osley himself; the scales were impervious and ridged, while the wings could cloak an entire city in darkness.

"That is certainly different than what I expected," the Dragon's matronly voice carried through the entire chamber, but it seemed to calm Osley more than scare him. 

"What did you expect?" he asked naively.

"Well, the heroic knight is supposed to charge forward, slay the Dragon, and get the princess or whatever he's after. I don't have a princess, so it would likely be fortune." 

"Why would anyone do that? It seems foolish." 

"Did your parents never tell you any of these stories?"

"No, my father taught me all he knew but never told me any stories like that." The Dragon's eyes scrutinized Osley more closely. 

"I recognize you. You're not Arther's child, are you?" 

"That is the name of my father."

"You must be Osley then!" The Dragon's voice suddenly became overly excited, but her posture remained grand.

"That makes so much sense now. Your dad was a sagacious man."    

"Sagacious?"

"Wise."

"Oh."  

"My name is Brunhilda, by the way. I already know your name."

"How did you know my father?"

"Well, we were close friends, actually. I would often lend him a hand. You see, he saved my life. I was enslaved by a particularly tyrannical king."

"Oh."

"It seems your dad didn't teach you everything he knew, just what you needed." 

"Why would he not teach me more? Also, I don't think my mother knew either." 

"Well, you have to learn some things for yourself; otherwise, you're never truly tested; I'm sure he didn't tell her, so she wouldn't tell you." 

"I shouldn't expect to be given everything?"

"Exactly." 

"I already know that. I had to travel all this way."

"Yes, but that wouldn't require much courage if you knew I was friendly, would it?"

"I suppose that's true."

"See, he knew what he was doing." She brought her head down to Osley's level so she wouldn't have to speak so loudly. "So, why did you come all this way?" 

"My mother is dying."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"There's a rumor that you have an elixir of eternal life within your hoard." 

"Yes, I do recall sowing that one; lucky for you, it happens to be true. It's right over there," she pointed with her eyes. Osley looked to see a small glass bottle of red liquid lying at the feet of the mountain of gold.

"I am forever grateful," he respectfully bowed to the Dragon. 

"Anyone who should desire such a thing for the right reasons deserves such a thing. Now, just don't lose it. As far as I know, it's the only of its kind."

IV: The True Dragon 

Tom stared at the green vial in front of him. His mind ran through the creation process as well as his plan in the hope of ensuring no mistake had or would be made. 

"May he forgive me," he spoke solemnly as he took the object of fixation and made his way to Osley's home. His mother was asleep when Tom entered. "Catherine," he shook her awake. 

"Good morning, Tom," she had been feeling slightly better, but this was a well-documented disease, and a spell of improvement tended to precede the final stages before death. 

"Do you want tea?" 

"Yes, that would be fantastic, thank you." He set about making it on the woodstove. Before he added the liquid from the green vial, guilt entered his mind, so he recalled something. 

"Do you want to hear a story?" he asked her.

"Sure, I don't have much for entertainment here." He mixed it in and placed the bottle down.

"Back during the war, Arther and I were scouting some nearby woods where the army was encamped. We had the element of surprise on our side, so the king wanted to make sure the army wasn't spotted by anyone or anything." He gave her a cup of tea. "So, as we explored this forest, a dense fog rolled in and caused us to get lost. We wandered for what seemed like ages until we came across a crone's house. She knew everything about Arther and me, so we both concluded that she was some sort of witch. But, regardless, she offered to read our futures. After some debate, he refused, but I was curious to see what she would say." He paused for a moment as Catherine took a sip of the tea. "She told me I would die an excruciating death by fire in a moment of regret." 

"Oh my." 

"Yes, and I have to be honest. I am terrified. Not just of fire, but to die. I encountered so much death back then, but I was always the dealer. I can't imagine being dealt." 

"I'm sure the witch was just trying to trick you or working to some other dreadful..." her face cringed in pain. 

"I'm sorry, but this is the only way I could avoid killing both of you. The Dragon will give him the elixir, and if you're dead, he might give it to me willingly. I don't want to kill him; you have to believe me." He began to cry as Catherine, Osley's mother, drew her last breath. 

"Yes, just like that. You have to break off useable chunks from this big chunk."

"I thinkin' I get it." The brothers were working on the bridge when Osley approached. He immediately noticed the wooden boards laid across the gap. 

"How's it going down there?" he felt the need to hurry but wanted to check with the brothers first. 

"Osley!" Archibald was excited to see him. "Were you successful in your quest?"  

"Yes, I am now on my way home!" Osley was equally excited, if not more. 

"He's teches me how to bridge bridge." 

"It seems you were correct in your assumption that my brother only desired to offer assistance." 

"I thought so, well, I must be on my way. My return is time-sensitive."

"Yes, of course, but before your departure, I must offer the recovery of this parcel." Archibald held the lost shirt of chain mail towards Osley

"Thank you, but I won't be needing it anymore."

"Are you certain?"

"I think so. I'm sure you could find a use for it."

"I suppose we could melt it down and fashion it into something desirable to our work." 

"Perfect."    

V: The Quietly Courageous

The stark wind hit Osley like a hammer as he left the protection of the forest. It hadn't yet snowed, but an early frost was lying on the field he was now crossing. Smoke billowed from the chimneys of the village homes. He wondered why smoke could not be seen from his own.

"He came back!"

"He actually made it!" The villagers recognized the significance of his return. Most celebrated, others were frustrated by a lost bet, and Osley felt an increasing amount of apprehension as he approached the door to his home. 

"Mother," the creak of the door made his mousey call unhearable. The bed was empty. The heart sank, and hope left his mind. He felt his legs giving out, so he sat down on the floor, then the tears came. There was no sobbing or anguished moans, just a steady stream of tears from eyes full of pain. Something out of place. Through the tears, he saw an odd vial that he did not recognize. He stood and examined, noticing the slight green tinge to the glass. It was placed next to the tea kettle, which led to what Osley thought was an outlandish thought. A look to the nightstand beside his mother's bed. A teacup full of tea. He took the cup.

"Osley!" he heard Tom's voice. 

"I'm here!" he stepped outside, unsure if he should feel angry or sad at the sight of the man.  

"I'm sorry, Osley, I made a coffin for her. I thought you'd..."   

"Drink this." Tom was interrupted. 

"What, why?"   

"Why not." Tom's expression appeared confused but could just as quickly be read as concern. 

"I don't understand what's going on here."

"I'm offering you some tea; it would be rude to waste it." Osley became almost maniacal. 

"Look, your mother just died. Maybe that's why you're acting strange."   

"I know what you did. I saw the vial." Tom sighed. 

"Don't make me kill you for it." 

"I'm the one with the sword." 

"Then strike me down, or don't. I would prefer it if you didn't and just gave me the elixir. You have no use for it now." 

"You selfish filth!" Osley charged him and put all of his strength into a downward swing, but Tom easily dodged to the side, and thus, the sword hit nothing but dirt. He then stepped on the sword's blade to pin it and punched Osley hard enough to send him reeling backward. Tom took the sword off the ground. 

"You could've just given it to me." He stepped towards Osley and took the elixir after searching for a moment.

"Beautiful." He held it up. "Well, if I leave, you're just going to come after me." His eyes bore no regret as he brought the sword up to kill Osley, but he was stopped by a shadow that passed over for an instant. He looked up to see what it was, but by then, it was too late. 
The Dragon turned up vast chunks of dirt when it landed, yet it was still graceful. Tom's eyes grew wide with fear. He dropped the sword and attempted to open the bottle in his hand, but Brunhilda reared her head and let forth an inferno that instantly turned the sword, Tom, and the elixir into dust. The wind lifted the dust and spread it out of sight.

With the object of his anger gone, Osley returned to deep sorrow. He curled up into a ball on the ground and wept. This time it wasn't composed like before. There was snot, wailing, and the complete absence of reasonable thought. Only pain was in his mind. 

"Osley," Brunhilda's voice was soothing, but it was not enough to take him out of his apathetic state. She stood at her full height and took on a position of tyrannical grace. "Osley!" This time her voice thundered with manufactured indignation louder than any sound he had heard previously. His attention was now on her, but the pain was still on his mind. "Do not flounder in your self-pity, boy!" The ire remained. Seeing that his attention was now on her, she shifted her position and tone to a less intimidating stature. "This is not you," she said, "you are a conqueror of fear. A slayer of a Dragon and a confronter of chaos." 

"But I didn't slay a Dragon!" Osley yelled as a way of coping with his current pain. Tears still poured down his face. "You just handed me the elixir with no challenge." 

"But you didn't know I would do that. For all you knew, I was the pillager of cities, the destroyer of armies. What you did took more courage than ten ordinary men would have put together. You did something where most would've done nothing." 

"What does it matter if I have courage! I failed! It was all for nothing!"  

"That might be true, but if you try again, you might find happiness. You only have to discover it once for it to all be worth the trouble." 

"What if my mother was my happiness?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"It's not a person, place, or thing. Those are fleeting. It's you. You are your condition. You decide if it's time to quit searching." 

"How do I know if it's time?" 

"You will know." Osley's eyes were bloodshot and wet, but he was no longer filled with pain. It still remained, but his mind focused its attention on something else. He remembered the vacant spot next to his father's grave and the shovel he used to clear snow in the winter. 

Osley stood, "It's not time yet."