Saturday, June 29, 2013

Know your enemies.

Ever wondered who truly had it in for you? I am sure you have. When new visitors come over, it is hard to gauge their intentions toward you. Sometimes the one you let in is the one you wish you had turned away. These things cannot be known at the time of your initial introductions. For instance, it’s Saturday night and someone you met at your new job wishes to visit. You have prepared dinner and purchased drinks for the afternoon. When company arrives, the scene is set. Everything goes well and then it is time for company to leave. You smile because all seemed to have gone well with the evening. But that is not so.
Unknown to you, as you were taking a restroom break, your new found friend stole money from your purse and some of your jewelry. Although you are sure that they are the culprit, proving thier guilt is harder than expected. It would be so much better if you knew their intentions before they ever walked through that doorway.
This is where it gets just a little more, how would you say it, complicated. Unknown to many people there are certain ways to weed out the trouble makers.
‘The devils’ or the ‘thieves’ can be found out with a very simple procedure. In fact, there are many ways to keep ‘evil’ from entering your home. I will speak of 2 of them to keep it short.
Red brick dust has kept homes safe from evil intentions for centuries. If you truly want to know who your enemies are, you must follow the directions in their completeness. The first step with preparing the dust is to find several red bricks and break them. After breaking them into peices, then pound them down into dust. The finer the dust, the easy it will be to spread. After the dust is ‘dust’, spread it thoroughly across all entryways and window sills. Anyone who means you harm or has the intentions of doing any negative act within your home, will be sent away in confusion.
Another way of finding the ‘bad one’ is to use Mandrake root. Mandrake root is an ugly shriveled root which is black in color. Only small peices are needed to ensure its effectiveness. Placing the root in corners of the doorway, windows and even on yourself will prevent any misfortune from befalling you. The root has been known to repel evil so powerfully that some have drawn back and even ran from the one who they intended to harm.
Want to know who your enemies are? Try these methods and do not be surprised when you lose some aquaintances. Just remember, they weren’t really your friends to begin with, if their intentions were not true.
Happy Conjure!

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Monday, June 24, 2013

vigil with I-Man

“I am back.” I chime in a singsong voice as I approach his resting place. “I told you I would not be away too long. Are you mad”?

-no answer-

“I wrote you a poem…would you like me to read it to you?”

-no answer-

“ok…give me a minute.”

Shuffling through my messenger bag, I find it. A small yellow fold of notebook paper with coffee stains greets my eager fingertips. Pulling it out slowly; I looked around the cemetary. I unfold the paper and sit down upon the grass. I could sense the still air listening.

“Ok…here goes…

Oh lonely lonely teardrop,
 poised upon my cheek;
 will you fall and
 will you be complete?
 My love underneath,
 will you come to me?
 I-man, he cometh,
when the day is done.
 After the death of the sun.

 Come to me–
I will not cringe,
 I will not run

. Lonely teardrop…fall.”

Feeling content, I return the the rhyme to the black bag. “So how do you like it?”

-no answer-

I blush by the compliments he pays me. Darren is always such a romantic gentleman. “Your so sweet; you know just what to say to me.” I continue to chuckle as I adjust the faded flowers in their vase. Weeds had begun to sprout and I pluck them up. Throwing them onto his neighbor; I lay down beside him.

 “Darren–she wouldnt listen to me. And I think I may have scared her a bit. She won’t speak to me about you anymore and I dont understand. Do you think I was too forward?”

-no answer-

“I know, I can be rather strange at times I guess. She makes fun of me; you know, says I dont know what love is.” Adjusting the strap on my bag, I rolled over onto my stomach. The earth on top of him is warmed by the sun and it sends tingles through my fingers. I run my fingers through the dirt and let it roll over my hand. Moments pass in silence as the breeze comes in from the south.

”Darren, do you love me?”

-no answer-

“I know, I know…that was a stupid question wasn’t it? Your perfect, did you know that? I dont know why she cant see how powerful your love is? But I do. I will be here when you come, I promise.”

A rumble echoes through the surrounding forest and ripples across the cemetary. Birds and insects all hush in anticipation of what was to come next. But only silence follows.

“What?!…What did you say?” I rise upon my elbows and look over at his mound of earth. “I didnt hear you…what did you say?”

-no answer-

“But why? Why do you want her here? I thought…” My face contorts in anger and I feel the betrayal dig deeper into my soul. “Must you do it here?”

-no answer-

“Fine…whatever you want my love.” Rising to my feet, I brush the grass clippings from my jeans and pull my hair behind my neck. I re-adjust my bag and look around with squinted eyes. The sun was baring down hard upon the cemetary stones and I start to sweat. “Should I go now?”

-no answer-

“Ok…wait a minute.” Thrusting my hand back into my bag, I retrieve the treasure. “Here…I should have given it to you earlier. so you really like this one huh?”

-no answer-

” I love you.” Placing the folded yellow paper under a rock: I pat the ground. Before rising once more, I kiss Darren’s hot tombstone and run my fingers across the top. “I will be here at sun down…with…her. Good day my sweet…I-man.”

Standing once more, I turn to go. My mind wars between love and hate but I was not breaking my promise. I was indebted to him. There was nothing coming between us. I would do anything for him. I would return and he would have what he wanted.

“Lei Anna”

At the sound of his voice; I turn around on the pads of my feet, hair flinging wildly outward. As I stare back at his resting place, I am astonished. I began to giggle covering my mouth.


Hundreds…no thousands of bees ascend from the mound of earth above where he lay. they swarm only feet above the ground. After moments of swirling and buzzing, they disappear into the air. I cannot see them leave…they just disapate like mist. A tingle starts from my feet and spread thoroughout my whole body. As I run back to his grave, I am stunned. The poem is gone.



“I do not feel guilty; I know it wasn’t my fault.”

“Yeah–I know.” I stared at her blankly as she folded her clothes and lay them in a neat pile on the floor.

I was lieing to her. Darren had been dead for a month now and the incident was still fresh in my heart. I could still remember those nights she called me for help.

“Rani–don’t you feel a little remorse for cheating on him?” I asked sullenly.

She stopped folding her shirt and looked at me. “Lei–I was good to him and you know it. Besides he was cheating on my from the beginning and he hit me…alot. You know, I never thought he would do it.” she looked wounded as her eyes pleaded with me. they neglected shirt lie prone on the floor with one sleeve stretched out. It was a pleading reaching arm begging for forgiveness–It looked like her. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes as she slumped. But the tears were not for him–they were for my acceptance.

“I tried to stop him. The first two times I succeeded, but he waited until I was gone an…”

The tear fell onto her collar as she wiped her cheek. “I…I …cant go on thinking about this, Lei.”
Rising from the edge of her bed, I paced the floor. I could not bear the thought of her leaving without closure to all of this. she needed to feel for him. It just wasn’t fair to Darren. In a month’s time she had barely cried.

“Rani…I now it is painful, but you must deal with your feelings for Darren–I know you loved him. He cared so much for you and here you are shaking your booty for a dollar. How can you do this? What would Darren say?”

“You know what, Darren can’t say anything–he is DEAD!” With one swift motion, she threw her remaining clothes onto the floor. Raising up onto the balls of her feet, she growled. Turning to face me, she placed her hands firmly on her hips. “Lei, you dont have to worry about me. I will be fine. I have a job, my own apartment and friends. Yes, I loved Darren, but I can’t grieve for him forever.”
Stunned by her harsh tone, I could only stare., I could feel the words pushing up through my esophogus and I knew I could’nt hold them down. Gritting my teeth, I looked at the floor. “Rani–you never grieved for Darren! When they told you he was dead, you just sit there and stared. Then the next day you were laughing like nothing ever happened. What kind of love is that?”

“You tell me, Lei. Your the one who is still grieving. Is that it; did you want him?” Rani’s eyes grew large and she shook her head in disgust. You have no right to tell me how I should feel. You know nothing of love.

The statement cut right through me. I never knew that we would ever fight like this. It felt surreal. As my mind searched for retalitation, my heart sank.  Moments passed with not sound; only the click of the central air system as it came to life. Her breathing was angry and erratic. After minutes of staring at the floor, the thickness of the air cleared. Slowly anger melted into compassion and our friendship surpassed the hurt.

“Lei, Im sorry. Can you just give me some time to be grieve the way I know how?” She opened her palms smiling. Ah! such a welcome gesture it was. I could feel the ice she had encased around my heart begin to melt.

“It is ok. I guess I overstepped my boundaries again.”

Rani walked toward me and eveloped me in her arms. Stiffly, I returned her embrace. “Rani–” I whispered into her ear as she nuzzled my neck.

 She stopped and looked into my eyes. Her hands gathered my long auburn hair and pulled it to the back of my head. She smiled. “What is it?”

“You know he will be back soon, dont you?”

Confused she sighed and crinkled her forehead. “Who…what do you mean?”

 I leaned in once more caressing her back. My lips grazed her earlobe intimately as I spoke softly.
“Darren–he will come for you.” Smiling, I kissed her cheek.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

that phantom

I went there, as I I hoped and dreamed that I would. I did not know where you were but I closed my eyes and I saw your location. I saw you there alone looking out across the water and wondering If I would come. YOu think me some supernatural thing that would know where you are and know what you want. So, I waited for some indication of where you were and my mind showed me the way. Down a path, through a feild and onto another darker passage until the way opened up wide and emptied into the water. I smelled you there...your intensity was so strong that I was almost afraid of you but I walked ahead. I came to your make location for the night and wandered round to greet you...but you could not see me for I was a thing of dreams...whispy and unreal to your human eyes. I watched you turn because you felt something. Perhaps you felt the chill upon your back or maybe you hear my steps made solid for a moment because of my strong will to be with you. I don't know why you turned to me but you did turn to me and you smiled. I watched your face as your smile turned to a frown and then you turned back toward the water. I loved the water too and so I walked out into its depths. I barely felt the weight of its liquid form as it curled and wrapped around my legs. It was not cold to me because for the moment , I was not real at all. I was still watching from my mind, those things that I wished for.
But I grew sad suddenly...because I did not know if I was truly welcome. The riddles you made were not simple for me to understand. I was frightened because I could not break the binds of things and I could not move toward you with abandon. I was not like the others who took their steps wrecklessly and hoped that all would fare well with them. I was not like the others, the ghostly things that haunted the objects of their desires, because I stepped upon the earth of my desires with caution and trepidation. I waited in the edge of the water for a sign to turn and look toward your face and then I saw the moon overhead reflected on the surface of the depths of my watery friend...and I saw your reflection in the water as well. I felt something close to me that was warm which radiated throughout me from behind. I turned and it was you...standing right behind me with your eyes closed. I heard you sigh and bring your hands up as if to touch the starry sky and the moon. Your face was interesting in its tranquility and your drunkeness was beautiful. I watched and fancied that you could feel me and then I moved back a little and waited. I saw your lips move and my curiosity grew stronger. Leaning in closer I heard you speak softly into the air. I touched a phamtom finger to your head and tried to speak without words. I wanted you to go back ashore, I wanted your safety....I wanted only the best for you. I willed it so strongly that your eyes opened and you grimaced. For some strange reason, you grumbled underneath your breath and turned back toward the shore. I followed you while humming a tune. I found it hilarious that i could be here without your knowledge, without your scrutinizing.
You sat back down and opened a beer. I went to my knees in front of you lightly placing my hands upon your knees. Your eyes were beautiful and so alive with pain...pain and confusion but I wasn't sure why. Like I said...some riddles are beyond me because I never fancied myself as something of desire...something of value. I was saddened by those thoughts and I realized that it was time to go.
Maybe, someday...when all was right, when the planets were aligned....when my heart was more whole...I would reveal myself to you. But not now, you are not ready and the pain is still so new.

Calvin, God's chosen coward

I am Calvin. I am a coward but God's chosen coward. Please read this...all of this. Please, disreguard my mistakes and forgive me. For if you are to be must first forgive your tresspassers. This is the dead's world now....the ressurected, that is...but no, this is God's come...if you want to be in that number.

The first days rememberance

The first one I saw was Thurman, my next door neighbor, the silent shizophrenic. I remember the shock I felt at how animated he had become. You know its bad when being more human is cause for alarm; considering his meds were apparently no longer working. I walked toward him a bit because I knew a little about his mental disorder and I wanted to help. God says to help those in need, right. Funny how things change when the situation gets more serious. And boy, did it get real.  I called out to him only to witness an issue of blood pour from his lips. I thought that maybe his condition was worse than what I was previously thinking but was stopped in my tracks by his next move. He started to run toward me. I saw the blood in his palms and so I gasped at his strange stigmata.

 Soon after, he was chasing me back into my house all the while I am pleading for him to calm down...but he didn't calm down. I bullied into my own house and slammed the door shut. There the old farmer proceeded to wayla the back door with his swollen fists. I watched from the little windows in the door because I wanted to try and talk some sense into the old man.  While pounding the wood of my rather time rotted barrier; he turned to the shufflings of Mrs. Thruman, who drug her bloody grandaughter by the hair. I couldn't help but be drawn to the horror of the sight and was soon entertained by yet a third, rather short 'madman'. The Thurman's grandaughter climbed up to peer inside the window. She grunted and squealed like a stuck pig when she saw my face. Her pale eyes bore into mine. Her loud sounds and her devil stare are what made me pull the blinds and sink to the floor in defeat.

It really was happening wasn't it?

And having glass in the doors is not very wise when something of this nature happens. We never really thought about the doors being of that much importance in the countryside... none of us did. That is how so many of the others lost their lives. The neighbors were friendly for the most part and old Thurman usually took his meds and tended his garden. But now things were different, things had changed and the realization of the situation hit me when the glass in the three little windows of the door shattered by three fists.  As I slid across the kitchen floor, my mind ran with 'what to do next'. I had no idea about anything except the basic natural instinct that told me to flee the situation at hand.
And so I jumped up and ran to the other room but don't remember which room it was. I had to assess my situation while searching for my car keys. I always had the urge to flee the scene. When the tornados came, I didn't hunker down, I got in the car and drove away like a lunatic. Which, I might add, was the WRONG thing to do. Fate would smile upon me and I would live through those incidences. And again, faithful fate smiled upon me and I drove away. In the distance, I saw Thurman's dog tear into Mrs. Crabtree's cat. My heart nearly jumped from my chest. I remember the first day as if it just happend because the first time is special like that. All first times are special even when they chill you to the bone.

Who was I kidding, I couldn't save them...heck, I hoped that I could just get away.

This is the way i thought ...but you see, I was the one who would be saved...eventually. This is what mother always said...but mother was dead. Would I see mother too?


A week more

I came back and I don't know why. I guess there is no place like home. Who do I kid, the town was overrun with them...the crazies...the creepers. They were not really slow either, not like in the movies...the creepy movies. If they still had both legs, they were coming. If they still had both arms, they were grabbing. And if they still had their teeth, you were fucked...maybe you were fucked if they didn't. They weren't that fast, no...but they weren't that slow either...but they were just creepers to me then..plain and simple. I had no respect for thier human souls. Things had gone downhill and the selfish human in me had taken over.

 I watched it happen over and over while I was hunkered up inside the drug store. While watching them eat, I stole things that I thought I might need. I watched the Gun shop across the street and realized that I may be in the wrong store. But I had no weapons except a bat and I was scared shitless. And you can take that literally, no one could even let their guard down enough to do what nature called for. I realized that I had to move pretty soon or I was signing my death warrant. It was not until I grew so hungry that I made a run for it.

I know it is wrong and we all do wrong things, right? I could have saved them...the pretty lady with the boyfriend, brother...or whoever he was. But, thing is, I had to move and waited until the things had sunk their teeth into the pair before making a run for it. I looked through the glass of the store window and surveyed my surroundings. The girls screams were horrible but it wasn't my first show. I had been watching this happen for quite some time...why? Because I was a fucking coward...but I wanted to live. Because I didn't want to listen to my mother when she said to help the needy and to be brave. I didn't believe my mother when she said that God would be with me in adversity. I was losing my religion then. But I didn't know it...I was God's chosen coward. I watched the zombies feed with greed and loathing flowing throughout me then I made my run for it. All zombies occupied...and....GO!

fore, you can run from God but you cannot hide...

I guess I was smart enough so, ignoring my stomach pains and running straight for that gunshop. I don't remember ever running so fast in all my life; and still I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Pure instinct turned me just in time to plant a foot in its abdomen and sent it flopping to the ground. No mother, I did not turn the other cheek this time. I knew not whether it was male or female. I just rammed my shoulder into the doors of the shop. And it was open...unlocked...void of all human occupancies. I stopped suddenly in my tracks and backed up against the door I had just came through. Looking around, I saw nothing of eminent danger. But there were still guns. Bad thing was...I was limited on how to use them. I knew that the owner probably kept one loaded somewhere behind the desk, so I opted for that route. And I was correct. I grabbed the gun and returned to the door. As before, I waited on lunch to arrive for my demon friends; and that is when I made my run for my car. I was going home....and home was where the heart was...hearts, lungs and livers...flesh...bone and blood. Home wasn't home anymore but it was the best thing I had.

I have prepared a place for you...


Two weeks

The cats and dogs were not very nice either. I don't think there are anymore left that would appreciate a nice scratch behind the ear. And they were the creepiest of all..the pets were. I am reminded of Pet Cemetary while watching those vermin cross the yard. And there are lots of dead things out there, not just the animals. I saw my neighbors, I saw strangers and then I saw something that I'd rather forget. I saw my aunt...aunt Margaret. Maybe the pets were not the worst of all. I guess this was just something that I knew would happen. It was only a matter of time before I saw relatives. When it all went down, I didn't call anyone because, since it all went down...I have become a much more selfish bastard. So, I guess it was just a matter of time before uncles and aunts and cousins started to wander upon the porch. Thing aunt had been dead for 5 years now.

Apparently, the dead were exhuming themselves. Everywhere, people were reunited with long lost loved ones. How sweet...

The dead will rise and they shall be reunited


Three weeks

I didn't have much food left either. The bottled water was gone, most of the canned meats were gone as well but I still had a pretty ample amount of fruit and vegetables in my cabinet. They would last a little while, at least.

 When Thurman attacked, I took my excursion to town and then came back again; I then had eaten the meat from the freezer. The electricity was still on and it made for an easy way to, bathing and the like. The whole situation wasn't that bad considering I had my television, my stereo and an xbox. I still had plenty of hygenic products and basically everything I needed to live the way that I already lived.

 But something happened. The television stations were quikly escalating to violence and panick the nation over and after a couple weeks...there was mostly white noise. Not long afterwards during a rather hot and sweltering night; the power died for good. The next amenity to go was the water...that's when things grew serious.

And I became lonely too. I never realized how lonely the single life was until I had no electronic entertainment. And since I was so 'shallow', as others have said many times over, I had no books to read. Except of course for the bible that my mother had given me. But I didn't want to read always gave me false hope and made me angry.  Yes, many times, women had judged me for the basic fact that I did not have a bookshelf...which I did not. Not many women wanted to read the bible on a nice visit to my place.

 So, all I was left with was the creepers outside. I spent hours of my day just watching them walk around my yard. They could smell me and they waited. I watched them change from day to day...further disentigrating and decomposing until one after the other...a leg broke or something of the like and they fell down to crawling. I watched them crawl too, fingers shredding into mothing but nubs, hair falling from shining skulls in clumps of flesh. I watched the scene with a morbid curiosity and wondering if my life was any better than their afterlife. Maybe there was no hope for me. Maybe thiers was my destiny. When I realized what I was thinking, I shook my head and pulled away from the gap in the boards.

Maybe I should read my bible...the thought was fleeting.

"I must be going mad...finally, I must be losing my senses."

I said this to no one at all and my voice sounded odd. I realized that for months, I hadn't realy spoken all that much...and why, there was no one to talk to.


I spoke again just to hear my voice and then I chuckled.

"so, now what do I do?"

I wandered back over to the gap in the boards that served as my peep hole. With nothing more to do , I peered back through the small openeing. As soon as I looked out, something was looking in. A rotted eye stared into mine as I drew back instinctively. Slowly, I looked out again and saw three creepers had gathered on the porch and were fighting over who would look through the opening. I had drawn their attention with my voice. I had no idea that those things could still hear...or was it simply that they could feel the vibrations of my voice like a bat's sonar or something. I decided to not look out anymore and draped the nearest cloth over the peep hole.
So I would take another nap. What else was I supposed to do?


My dreams were terrible. I saw the little girl again, in my nightmares...Thurman's granddaughter. But this time, she could talk. Her rotten tongue wagged behind her blue lips and she spoke.

"you should be with us...Calvin. You should come outside and play."

She drew near to my peep hole and I could see the gore in her golden hair. Her eyes started to clear a bit and then she changed. She grew taller and taller and then she began to age. Her face took on familiar features until I realized that I was staring at my aunt Margaret. She smiled sweetly and pressed her face against the opening in the window.

"Calvin dear, why didn't you come to see me. You never brought me flowers."

I woke in a sweat and realized that the creepers were scratching an pounding on the outter walls of the house. I realized that I must have been screaming in my sleep. I had alerted every creeper in the neighborhood that I was still fresh and tasty. I just rang the dinner bell. It took several hours for the things to give up and wander off the porch again.


One month

I was so unbearably lonely. Things were looking different to me. The heat was slowly cooking my living brains. I had no idea how much I could take. Mabye I should pull free a few boards to get some air. I was drinking my own piss until I had very little urine to drink anymore. I know it is disgusting but you would be surprised at what a person would do who wished to live.

Take of this flesh and you shall have new life....this flesh...


I almost got bitten if not for my quick retrieval. I reached outside the window but the rain just seemed so inviting and I was so unbearably thirsty. I wanted to touch the water, I wanted to feel the life....I was so fucking thirsty...I was dying. I pulled a board free as well and held a pot out under the rain. I ran to get another pot and dropped it upon the ground just below the window sill. I didn't know exactly how I would retrieve it but I would find a way. I never really saw the creeper until he was almost upon me. I didn't get bitten, but I sure cut the fuck outta my arm. Later, I managed to hang out the window and pull in my pot full of rainwater. Still didn't get bitten but got some hair pulled out my a little one armed bitch with no face. But I had water....just a little...but I had water.



I don't want to do it anymore. There is nothing more to talk about. I have nothing but stale cereal and dried noddles and I am not going back out there. No way, no how....I will not risk being bitten by one of those things.

After the dry goods disappeared, I started eating carboard from wherever I could find it. There was still a little water from my rainwater pot but for the most part....I was dying.

yea tho I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...I shall fear no evil...


I saw God in my dreams and he said to go forth. His face was beautiful as the face I had seen in my childhood bible stories. I saw my mother standing beside me with her hand on my head. She told me to listen to my as God says...and be safe...always be safe. I remember my mother saying that I was stay away from the bad people, I was to take care of myself because I was clean and untainted. I heard her voice inside my head.

"wait upon the lord."

And there was God again as he raised the dead from their graves. They shambled toward their lord and took of his flesh and his blood. He smiled down at them as they feasted. The dead grew full and healthy again and the lame begin to walk. God healed himself and was whole.

"Calvin, come.....I have gifts for you in heaven."


I am leaving this for you to read...if you can read at all. This is the true account of God's chosen coward...or maybe I was a fighter afterall. I have survived this far on my own and with my own devices. I am going oustide today...for the first time in months...for the first time since my run into the town. I am not going to fight if I ever really had any fight in me at all. God said to go forth and I know what he means. I shall help the others...I shall feed the needy. And with this...I shall save my soul. Besides, I have no one...I never one but you, God.

The dead have risen...they have been called forth. I want to be in that number.

Calvin, god's chosen coward.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

My theory of ONE

Understanding the intricacies of the unified body is a feat that can solve alot of problems for us as individuals.

The theory of one is interesting enough in itself. Maybe just as a deep topic for social conversation; but interesting none-the-less. As we glance around our environment, we are cluttered by all the faces , places and circumstances of our daily hectic lives. We are infuriated and constantly irritated with the society that surrounds us. People push and shove as they make thier way desperately to jobs they probably hate, each and every morning. Traffic seems hopelessly endless, with its chaotic scramble in the 'me first' routine. We seem to use each other as stepping stones to get aheadof the rat race and to the destination that always eludes us. Basically, we strive to put 'number one' ;which is ourselves, in top priority. What we fail to realize, is that 'number one' is the whole of all existence. Why do we fight ourselves?

When we look into the mirror, we notice that our hair is one color or another, our noses are small or large; and so forth. Looking at others we obviously see the differences between ourselves and them-right? Wrong-what we perceive is simply different patterns in our being. We criticize the larger individuals with comments about their laziness or failure of disipline, when we actually are seeing a side of ourselves which we do not understand or accept. Inside our warped brains, obesity is considered wrong...flawed. Much like the beauty we desire in others, we misjudge the variations and create statements that are ignorant. They are only self-criticism. Like it or not-we arethem and they are us. It is true!

Take various languages for instance. Why do you think; despite the language barrier, we basically understand each other? Yes, we have similar qualities and routines, although we differ vastly from continent to continent. Traditions, styles and foods are just small examples of our differing qualities. Aside from these and many others, we all have the basic desires-to happy, to be fruitful and to live a long life. These three similarities are enough to make us think that maybe we are only one living breathing entity divided into parts. Is this still hard to fathom?

Think about it this way-where does love come from-what about sympahty? Is it possible that whenever we love, we project a feeling for ourselves? This brings to light the 'selfless deed'. There are very few truly considerate acts that we could perform without reflecting back onto ourselves, or being rewarded for it. Maybe sympathy for others and mercy is the act of storing up returns for when we need to be forgiven. Many individuals keep concious records fo the good done toward others in the hope of the 'returned favor'. Do you think that we are beginning to recognize the fact that we are just taking care of number one. Fascinating and provoking is an understatement when it comes to this theory of loving thyself.

If we honestly can perceive others as us, then their flesh becomes ours. When their hopes, dreams, hurts and anger becomes a concern of our own, we will hesitate when causing conflict with our fellow man. Hence, the answer to alot of questions that have arisen over peace, hunger, hatred ad predjudice-Just to name a few. We are one being, one light and one existence. A unified body with many diverse moveable parts to something simply unfathomable makes you think huh?

The fairies dispicable journal entry 4

The light is fleeting,as you know. As light disappears I am left with darkness again. I cannot make the light. I have tried numerous times to stay within it but it eventually fades back.

The light is stong, although, as I hold you in my arms. As I smell your scent, I am filled with such human emotion of contentment. The voices which cover the globe turn to whispers and the visions fade. For a moment there is only you and I. A moment...a short moment in time. I crave to take you. I want to fill your life in my blood. But I could never bring myself to harm you. It seems you have charmed me far from the point of being charmed. My conjures work not on you. My canines chatter with anticipation of the bite.

You shh me again and so I lay my head back onto your shoulder. You are strong and protect me from myself.

"I must go." YOu say as you hold me away from you. Your arms are strong and I almost let you hold me. "I only wanted to hold you and to make sure you were okay. But, I cannot stay here."

I frown and realize quickly what I am to you. My heart struggles with your descriptions of me. I am this, I am that but I can never be. The riddles astound me. But the light, oh the blessed light. YOu give me the light with no death, no pain then you take it away leaving the pain and the death. Are you from hell? I wonder as I clack my fangs together,and should I just bite you now?

You are human, but your eyes bore into mine as though they know my very soul. You know the creature that I am and yet you are not afraid. You come to me when I am at my deepest of dispair. Right before I have given up, you appear and dangle the light in front of me. I swat at the light just like a little kitten, then you say..

no no no....

You leave me again and take the light with you. The hunger returns.

The fairies dispicable journal entry 3

I share my mother's grief with my father as I lay my head upon his earth as well. The star looks upon me with sadness. I do not wish for her to cry for me nor do I wish for anyone to do so. I lay my arms out across both my mother and father's body as they decay from under me. Only earth seperates us and mocks me now. Maybe I should sing to them or recite a poem from off the top of my head. But I do not think they would listen. I think they would just scold me again for being such a silly girl. Rolling onto my mother, I exhale deeply and plop my thumb into my mouth. My sharp canines scrap my flesh and make me wince.

I want to stay here for awhile mom, if that is okay with you. I do not wish to face the day world with its accusations and irritating little bitches. I just want to be what I am and nothing more. I expect none of them to understand as you and father would. Fore, I am dead like you and only you can understand my heartache.

The birds and frogs make night sounds all around me as I rise to a sitting position. I can almost hear your breathing from so far away. I can feel your human touch upon my cold flesh, coaxing it to life again. I feel guilt from letting your lust invade me upon my sacred space. I wish to tell you to go but your phantom has been with me so long now. So, after I have commited the gravest sins, you wish to caress my cheek and kiss my lips with your ghostly touch. You are mad. Mad as I am, but not quite so brutal. YOu are simply the most adorable human I have ever met. I smile as I rise from the mounds of death and remember the good parts of our conversation. I hold out my bloody hands before me. They show the truth, the horror and the end result of what was done. I see my second death before me in visions, fleeting quickly then running behind my grandfather's stone. I gasp in surprise. Even beasts it seems can witness the supernatural from without themselves.

A sound startles me and I turn to the right. I am taken aback by your beauty. I do not believe what my eyes have betrayed this night. I see a ghost surely, a wish so vivid that my heart now pounds. I see you and you advance from across the cemetary. YOu hold something in your hand and I know what it is. The tears come as I bring my hand to my face. Oh, the night welcomes you and guards you into my embrace. Closer and I realize you are no apparition, you are Hi a a ni da we hi (the angel).
You give to me my story that I have requested for so very long and the light is no longer absent. It holds me again.

The fairies dispicable journal entry 2

It is 2:22 am and I creep slowly beyond the posted sign and into the open field that I love to play in during the evening. I can see everything in the darkness--even without the moon. I look up and yes, there is the star. The bright one. Venus sits in the darkness and stares back at me. The brightest and most beautiful star of the heavens will watch me hunt tonight.
I welcome her gaze and her vigil she keeps with me. Something in the back of my mind tells me to watch for coyote but I have no feeling that he will join us this night. Coyote, Wolf--does it really matter which standard that I use? Reaching into my pouch,I withdraw a hand full of glittery ectoplasm and drape it in the breeze. I feel the magic pass through my cold body and replenish it with the voices of the ones before me. They have enmity for me,no doubt but they are bound. Bound as they may be they moan in regret of my curse.

That is usually when I smell them. Just as I drape the dust, I recognize the scent of the human body. There are always certain idiots who tend to wander too far when smoking their cigarettes. And any of them who wander this time of night deserve the fate they recieve.

I do not really wish to share the details of my betrayal. It is ugly and quite unlady-like. There is no longer a remorse for them. I save my remorse for my writing. I put all my darkness into pen and paper or the keyboard. I share nothing of what I must do because your imagination can fill in the rest. I read your words and I love the way you describe things that you see within your mind's eye. I love your vampire stories and how you strive to feel as they do. But, if you could join me this night, you would put down your pen forever in horror of the brutality reality offers up to you. You cannot complete it. You shy away from what you do not understand. YOur stomach turns and you do not know why.

*sprinkle more faerie dust upon the ground before stepping through the cemetary gate. Runs to the stone and falls upon her face. Tears burn her skin and neck. She looks up and traces the letters with her bloody hand.*

I miss you mother. But I hunt this night on your kind because your light is absent.

The faeries dispicable journal entry 1

The one who speaks to you is Spirit. I am she and she is me; what secrets she hides I reveal with my touch but sadly you cannot comprehend it all.Those stories you have heard are entertaining and realistic sometimes but they hold no truth in the larger scheme of things. No, I am not instantly killed by the singing scorching rays of the sun and no I will not hide from the cross. My life is complicated and as varied as yours. I have weaknesses much like your own.
I want to be like you are, to tell the truth. These heightened emotions and abilities are rather a burden. My tears run scalding down my cheeks as you say to me the words I do not want to here. I cannot bewitch you, nor can I charm simply because I love you..and I do not choose to. Yes, I hear you thinking as your bones crack behind your ears. You are clenching your jaw out of irritation and I know you are disapointed in me. Dear sir, I only wish to please you. I only wish to be as simple as any girl but life has dealt me this card.

And you would laugh at me now and tell me how cute I am. You would feel for me to a certain extent but not sacrificing your own comfort in the process. You are here with me when it is convenient for you then leave me with my demons otherwise. I know that I sound weak. I know how human and frail I am in your eyes. But, understand the truth that is before you. I am not as you are. I am something which you would never desire to greet in the shadows by the roadside. If I didn't love you, your soul would be another trinket in my bag. But I brag not, nor do I play pretend. I feel the time is near that I must go. My gums itch and I feel the tips of my canines ripping and tearing from new growth. I hunger. Why did you leave me with my demons, you know how they taunt me so.

Every night I lick my own blood from my lips and remember the nights you told me I was special. Yes, I guess I am in a way. You know that I need you. I need you here to chase away the darkness with your light again. i cannot do this alone. It tugs me and pulls me back in with talons of shame and retribution. It calls to me and whispers that you are a liar. It says you will only take take take and give to me my damnation; but just a little slower. The demon says you will feed me the medicine with the sugar until I am drunk on its toxicity. Then you will run me through with my own blade. I do not exist. I am like the vapor or the mist you thought you saw from the corner of your eye. Only fleetingly I come to your mind in times of desire. And you do desire the mysterious things of nature, do you not?

*Laughs heartily and flutters red wings.*

I frown as another night passes without you. I grudgingly go into the night faced with my torment and legacy. I will feast and I will not try to stop my hunger. There will be no wolf to guide me back to humanity and there will be no tasty pastries to tantalize my tongue. Tonight I feast again on the blood of your kind and regret it not.

Your ropes do not hold me back this night from my hell. Your light is absent.

And the moon wept

He was alone again, and he wouldn't find her this time. Up in that big ebony sky, he sit patiently waiting for nothing. He knew he couldn't see her but he felt her calling to him...even now. His heart throbbed and something deep within him craved her. Every moment of time, he had searched for the object of his affection. At every corner of the world, he gazed as a solemn star in heartbreak. He loved her, there was no doubt and the time he spent watching  her was priceless.

One time, he caught her as she undressed for bed. She was so beautiful that the images had burned themselves into his hard brain. He was sure of her returned affection for him, as sure as he knew his heart beat as well. He could see others like him in the distance, as they stared at some adored objects of their own. So, he knew....he knew, he was not alone in his obsessions. He knew she felt him near, and knew his touch upon her skin, it was gentle. He bathed her at times with his touch as she felt the pleasure pass over her. These times were heaven. At times, she glanced up toward him and smiled, as the breeze from her open window danced through her hair. The visions of her beauty would never leave him. He could hear his wild heart race within his rock hard body. He lived for her. His light was hers no matter where it shown when she was away.

He never understood why she left him. Every time he caught a glimpse of her, it was fleeting and she was gone again. Just as her smile appeared he felt her passing away to some other.

  Months of torturous love made him grow to hate her in ways. His love, so strong eventually turned bitter as she continuously turned to others for affection. He grew angry and hid behind mists of regret. He regretted giving his heart away to someone who could never return her love. But yet, through layers of hurt ...he pined for a love that was so very far from him. No matter how hard he tried...he could not shake her from his mind. Why, oh why couldn't he reach out to that soft skin that tempted him so? Her smell, her voice and her deep dark eyes drove him mad.

And, as time went by, she changed. Her beautiful auburn hair grew silver and her form grew frail. He felt a tug in his heart as her realized the distance between them had hurt her. He could see what the pain of separation had done to her body. His indifference to her love had made her lose hope. The absence of his presence had drained her completely. She, as he, had wanted more and so her body began to age.

Her passing courtships had meant nothing to her. Every night she still stared at him from far away with tears falling upon her cheeks. As she lay upon the earth and stared upward, he reached out and caressed her face. His light seemed to soothe her. She smiled many times.

But when looking for her again, she was gone. No smiles, no midnight vigils watching him from afar. He searched frantically for her beautiful face, but never again did he see her.

Only until he saw her name carved a stone among many others, did he understand.

And the moon wept.

The end

They are everywhere and they just keep coming. Women, children and dogs too-covered in rot and other disgusting bloody things. Indescribable in the least, to make you understand. Sometimes I think the bowels of hell were opened up and spilled out an unlimited supply of the living dead. The end of the world is here, now and I am safe for so far. But there is always an end to everything. Months have passed with no television, no radio signals. I have no electricity and I have stolen every candle from the houses in my neighborhood. I am not a thief and even though I know they are all dead, when I break their doors down I feel like I am intruding.
All the animals are infected as well. The only dog I can hear barking is the relentless zombie pit that wanders around the neighborhood. Each day, his barks get stranger and stranger. I think his vocal cords are wearing out. They all wear out eventually but then there are more. It's like a damn Zombie factory. Maybe they will all just walk until they fall apart-or until I get them.

I scribble on my note pad these details, I love to write. I always wrote these silly little horror stories and this is my next book. I remember the old zombie movies and how much I loved them. Yes, I am grateful for their education on the subject. I will write a better Zombie story, with better details. Why not, I have nothing else to live for at this time.

I am here, alone, in a little white farmhouse in Newton Mississippi. Somehow it is not as therapeutic as I thought to have time to myself. My hands shake and I break another pencil lead. "Dammit!"
I am covered with mud from head to toe and lying in my bed reminiscing with a broken pencil. I saw on some of those movies, that mud can help with alot of things--cover heat signals, keep you cooler and keep the insects away. My air went out long ago, along with the electricity. Things have become third world to me and pests are trying to get in. I may be losing my mind. Wow, what a joke that was.
At night, I can hear their moans, a lonely hungry call of trickery, that is what it is. Up and down the little dirt road by my house, they walk, trying to see if they missed any victims. I have eaten the last can of Vienna sausages and I will have to go out again today. I hate going out, but this time it's for different reasons. I have never been a social person after all.

And there is so much to do around here anyway. When I don't have to go out, I lift weights. Several weeks ago, I even took a chance and brought my husband's heavy bag in from the porch. Unfortunately, I think I ruined it when I stabbed it a couple times. I just lost my cool is all. You know being holed up for months isn't easy with all those demons and ghosts holed up with you. Those children who call you in the middle of the night and those ghostly arms that wrap around you in your bed. It's just never quite so lonely as you would think.

I have all my guns now. It took some time to get them all in the house. Several were being stored in our storage building down the hill. But I managed. I always manage. I have a couple of Nine millimeters, a 357 Magnum, 4 Rifles, 5 shotguns(including a double barrel) and a 45. Even when I felt strong one day, I checked in my son's room for his old baseball bats. I can't go in there again, so I boarded up his doorway.

You know, I have no plans for the future, except maybe to kill as many of those maggot infested creeps as I can. My heart is vengeance through and through. All I do now is live to survive, so that I can hate them more and maybe I can tell my story. Everyone, after all, wants to tell a story at some point.

I am different now. I used to be a prim and proper little lady back when. Back when my husband, three kids and I were able to enjoy the southern weather and each other. But those thieves from hell took that from me. They devoured all that was left of my sanity I think. But I am hungry now.
I drag the knife across my arm leaving my 150Th mark since the Apocalypse. Down my left arm is a work of bloody and scarred art symbolizing my dissension. It is beautiful to me. It is the only beauty I see in a world of nothing.

Pulling the boards from my doorway and peering outside, I grip my gun.

"Here I come boys. I want your brains too--all over the dirt."

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

The truth of Pablo

Every time I feel my darkness growing, I repost this story of Pablo.  There is so much to be learned of Pablo....He is an interesting and painful being of whom I love dearly.

I found myself in the darkest place my heart has ever been. Whether it was of my own doing or from the interractions with other human beings, I had no remedy for this pain. This pain kept going and going with no hope of end. I saw no light at the end of the tunnel and no rope was decending for me to climb onto and escape. I just saw the darkness. It surrounded every corner and every face. The shadows were elongated to the extent that the brightest light still did not illuminate their coutenances. I have no answers for the things that I saw other than the fact that my mind was crippling and missing a very important component to appear normal. I was dying inside and no matter how hard I tried to make things go back to normal, there was always this cloud which hung over the whole of it and reminded me that I, Madris was destined to live in the void of light.

And his name was Pablo.

...and he was a riddle that would change as soon as the answer neared the surface. His transparency was curiously thick and hidden. Could it be that he was as cryptic as I...hidden behind his truths that were lies...or his lies that hid the truth. I may never know.

A strange conversation with Pablo.
"I need you to understand the whole jest of it, Pablo."
"And I am to understand what, exactly?" Pablo paused and I could hear his breathing over the phone lines.
I waited to gather my thoughts before I very carefully laid thing out on the table for him. "I came to you because I needed a friend, I needed someone to talk to. I know there are many people out there for me to talk to but..."
Pablo said nothing, he just sat at the other end of that phone line and he said he always did.
"I...I was scared once. I thought that I would go blind and so I rushed to the medic to hopefully save my eye sight. Do you remember this time, Pablo?" I waited, hopeing that he would answer me with an intelligent response.
"I do, I do remember that, Madris." Pablo stopped and said nothing more.
I continued..."I was so scared, Pablo, that I called your number but you did not answer. I left a message for you there in hopes that soon as you got the message, you would be concerned and call me back." I paused and I could hear his breathing change and grow a little more rapid. "Did you get my message, Pablo?"
"Yes, I did."
"I know this seems so petty to you but at this time, I needed to talk to you. It was you who mattered, Pablo." I didn't know how to continue with the conversation because I was entering strange waters that neither of us wanted to enter. In order to finish the conversation, I had to veer a little off course. "I called others too. They all returned my calls and that only made me angry at you."
"But, why did you get angry. I guess I should go." And he went, Pablo, just like he always did when things get too thick for him deal with. Something in our conversations make him want to run and hide...or this is how I see it.
I hung up the phone with more questions than answers racing through my head. I knew what was in my head but I fought it. I wanted to form a friendship that would wash away the other uncomfortable thoughts that I had for Pablo.  I didn't mean to care, oh no, I did just happened. I didn't create these thoughts, they just bloomed there like some poisonous thing that wouldn't die. I feebly tried to kill it...tried to starve it out but it just wouldn't die.
And so I would be alone again. I would walk right past him and stare at the ground in hopes that  I didn't exist to him. I didn't have the courage to look him in the face without failing myself. I wanted to stay tough, I wanted to stay true to myself. And when I got so far away that I felt my strength returning to me, there he was again. He had some question for me that pertained to the most mundane aspects of life. Or, either he wanted to enquire of the weather, some political thing that he missed on the telly. He would just be there, in front of me breaking my defenses one by one and marching back into my life as if he was never gone. The worst part of being in his presence was his lack of empathy for me. He arrived as if he didn't know how horrible I felt and he talked as if I was the happiest thing he had seen all day. Couldn't he see my pain through my eyes. Maybe he did because when I started to stare at him, he would turn away and make some excuse to leave again. But Pablo did not stay away. He came back, day after day until he saw that I was happy again and exuberant in his presence. Then and only then would he crush me once more and leave me to cry for him when he was gone. It was always some irresponsible act, some cold reluctance on his part to fullfill a basic aspect of our friendship.
These knives that cut me often came in the form of forgetting me....A reluctance to return phone calls, messages or even face to face requests. It wasn't once or was when his ego was stroked so much that he felt he had no reason to be concerned with those who were there to build him up.
He used the ones who loved him to climb higher and feel the rays of the sun. He let us burn away like Icarus' wings when he got so close to that burning sphere and he fell again. But, we caught him. If I was to see myself in trainging, it would be 'Me in the corner with arms folded over my chest saying "no!" which was always symbolic of the statement..."I will not catch him this time. I will not build him up to what he can be!"
But I did...always and the word 'done' was trampled on by my own feet as I praised his existence.
The darkness grew then...for me and maybe for others. The cowardiss he held and protected may have been his reasoning but I am not sure. I say many things in Pablo's eyes. But he knew I was finding them and so he would downcast them and turn to go. There were many things inside this man that beckoned to be learned and studied. Things that some others have never hapt upon. My darkness grew as I strove to see beyond the selfish veneer he used unintenionally to cover his true thoughts and emotions. I would find it...through deep and thick dark forests of the mind. I would find it... through tempting and evasive dreams that haunted my intellect. I would find it...I would find the thing which was Pablo and then...maybe then...could I accept the way things are.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

A new beginning

Some things must end for others to begin....I am yet unfinished...but I will be soon.

I think that the magic was inside waiting for the human shell to disentigrate and for the truth to be born in sorrow. I think the disease had come to its heightened fruition and that all has been revealed in terror.

I am returning to them through the gates of the imagination until my mortal shell can realize its destiny to be done.

Lanna waved at him as he got on the bus and she smiled too. Her little boy was growing so fast and all she could do was watch him fly from the nest. His little face beemed as the bus took him far from her again. Would she ever get used to this or was it to remain torture to be alone again...over and after day? Lanna rubbed her temples and turned to go back inside the house. She was with herself again as all the days before since Robert had started kindergarten. Some days she would cry for his father and some days she would smile because he was gone. Lanna was a mess but she tried to make things normal for Robert because she did not desire for him to have the same disease that she had.

The birds sang to Lanna everyday while she drank her coffee and she remembered more. The fire side with her head on his shoulder and his hands in her long red hair. She could smell him and so she inhaled deeply and took a lingering whiff. She opened her eyes and saw the empty yard and she heard the birds again. She had dumped the entire cup of coffee onto her lap and she felt nothing.

He hit her again and again and then he put his hands around her throat. She saw his face but she didn't recognize him at all. He was tall and brown and his lips were pursed together so tight. He grimaced as he banged her head against the wall and shouted curse words that began to fade as she began to pass out. She woke to the pain of fists on her body and she heard Robert screaming.


During the day, Lanna did the laundry and washed the walls. Then she scrubbed the base boards again...but this time, even harder. The rest of her day was spent trimming the weeds from around the porch with a pair of sewing scissors. Lanna hated weedeaters and so she did what she could to make her home suitable for Robert. She swept the carpets and washed the dishes in the sink. She hate the sound of vacuums and dishwashers and so she did what she could to make herself happy. Things could be simple and be efficient, she told herself...and then she smiled to herself as well.

When Robert came home, she would have dinner for him and sit and help him with his little worksheets and fill out his paperwork. He smiled at her and hugged her then went to his room to play. Lanna's day ended with a book and a cup of milk to help her settle in for sleep.

At night, Lanna saw him and she would scream. Sleeping was hard for Lanna and so she sometimes resorted to taking sleep aids to help her to forget. Remembering was for Lanna, as a knife was painful to the skin. Lanna hated to remember; she just wanted to sleep and to forget.


One day, while Lanna was outside listening to the birds, a man walked from the woods and starred at her. She didn't move to run inside, nor did she call out to him. She starred back until the man turned and went back into the tree line. Lanna watched the spot in the brush for the man to return; but that day, she saw him no more. It was two days later that Lanna saw the man again; in the same spot, at approximately the same time. This time Lanna waved at the man and the man waved back. Then the man went back into the forest and was seen no more that day. Lanna became curious after that incident and so she walked out across the field and waited at the tree line. She was frightened but she was curious all the same. No one came out to stare at her nor did they wave; the forest was bare but for the wind that rustled the tree tops and the small animals that rushed to and fro through the wooded playground. Lanna felt empty and so she returned home.

The next day, the man walked halfway across the feild and stood there starring at Lanna. When Lanna looked up from her black coffee, she was startled to say the least. She dropped the cup and it shattered on the concrete porch. She stood and brushed her long red hair back over her shoulder. The man just stood there and starred until finally, he turned and walked away. Lanna watched him retreat until he disappeared into the woods. Lanna was frightened then and so she went inside. The next day, Lanna had her coffee at the kitchen table. She felt the hair stand up on her shoulders around 9:00 am and she wondered if that man was standing somewhere near.....starring at her. Lanna closed her eyes until the chill passed and then she was better.

When Robert came home, she hugged him and told him that she loved him. Her tears fell heavy on the top of his little head. Robert just looked up and frowned.

"Mommy, why are you sad?"

But mommy didn't know why she was sad and that was just part of the disease.

The next morning, she waited on him. Lanna wanted to know who he was and why he was always there. If he was a criminal, so be it. Lanna was tired of hiding and sometimes she just wanted to quit. Maybe he was death come for her and maybe he was giving her the opportunity to get her things together and sort out her personal business. But then again, Lanna wasn't sure of anything anymore except the love that she had for her son. It never really occured to lanna that the man could just be a man...because nothing was simply for Lanna. That is why everything she sought after had to have a certain simplicity to balance things out. And this was also the nature of the disease. Lanna felt overwhelmed suddenly and her head began to buzz. Her coffee didn't taste like coffee anymore and so she sit it on the concrete to let it regain its taste. She put her hands over her face and tried to calm herself. Suddenly, the meds were not working anymore and Lanna wanted to scream.

But she looked up and there in the middle of the street stood the man whom had walked from the forest. His hair was dark and he had his hands in his pockets. He looked at her face and then he smiled. She had had enough of this game and so she jumped from the porch swing and walked across the yard. The man never moved as she walked into the street and stood before him. He looked into her eyes and then he smiled.

"Hello darling." The strange man spoke and then he caressed her cheek.

Lanna saw the eyes and how deep and beautiful they were...and of course the color is what struck her as beautiful as well. She couldn't stop starring into his eyes for a moment and all was quiet. Then she bravely spoke to him.

"who are you?"

The man tilted his head back and bellowed in laughter. He seemed to shake from the hilarity that he found in her question.  Then he looked back at her face but he could not stop smiling. Although, he seemed friendly enough; he did not answer her. It was the concensus of the situation that told her that she should know who he was. But lanna asked him again.

"who are you???"

The man sighed and then he took both her shoulders in his hands. His hands were warm and inviting and Lanna could not help but feel aroused. He leaned closer and whispered to her in a soft and soothing voice.

"I am the one you dear, you know who I am."

But Lanna could not accept the fact that he was someone she had dreamed about. He wasn't real and she had no idea how he had come into being. Lanna couldnt smile, she was growing angry by his lies.

"who are you? why wont you tell me?"

But he didn't tell her anymore. He turned and walked away. He climbed over the fence and back into the field. There he turned to wave then rambled on toward the treeline. When he reached the stand of trees, he brushed aside the saplings and took to the forest again. He was gone and Lanna remained empty.

When Robert's father died, Lanna didn't know how to feel. Robert was only 4 years old, just one year shy of starting school. She had planned everything, how it was going to be for Robert and how his father would be seeking anger management and all was to be well with the family. There was plans to have another baby and there were plans to do other things as well. When Robert's father joined the service and left them; Lanna was against the whole thing. She sent him letters and gifts but one day; the letters didn't come back. When they came to tell her, she was already gone as he was gone. Her dreams had told her that he was dead and so Lanna greived until the uniforms came knocking. Her face must have been strange to them when she answered the door. She gave no emotional outburst nor did she faint. She simply said okay and smiled. Lanna shut the door on those men of honor and she sat back down to ther sewing project. After a while, she called in Robert and told him about daddy. Robert cried and cried while Lanna stroked his little head. Day after day, Robert got used to the way things were and started to talk to his mother about his father. Lanna was still out to sea and so Robert would just hug her and place little kisses on her cheek. There was pain in Lanna's heart but it was old pain held hostage by her husbands old anger. She had no idea how she was supposed to feel and so Lanna packed away all of his things and went on with her life. The disease within her grew and so she increased her medications to take better care of Robert.

The man didn't stay away but Lanna stayed on the porch until he had come to sit beside her. She did not talk to him at all...but he started to talk to her. He would reach over and brush the hair from her face and on the final visit, he placed a kiss on her cheek. Lanna starred into her black coffee and waited for him to take his leave. She started wearing her husband's old watch because she was curious about something. Every day aroudn 9:00 am, the stranger would come to her. Around 9:15, the stranger would take his leave. Lanna knew something was happening that had a significance but she was too heavily medicated to understand.

"Mommy, I saw him!!"

One day Robert was sick and couldn't go to school. He must have been looking through his bedroom window because he started to scream for his mother when the man disappeared around the corner of the house. Lanna ran inside to see why he was screaming and he was crying by his window. She tucked him back into bed and checked his fever to see if it had gone away. He was burning up and so she tucked the covers tighter and went for his fever medicine. After he was well medicated, he fell back off to sleep. Robert whispered for his father because he missed him so. Lanna just walked back outside in a numb catatonic gait. The stranger was gone....Lanna felt sadness for the first time and so she sat on the porch most of the day. A song came to mind and so she hummed with it for her own comfort.

Her dreams attacked her again and she woke in a sweat. She realized that she had contracted Robert's fever. She went ouside and sat on the porch to cool her skin. She looked out toward the feild and saw nothing. The moonlight dappled the trees and all along the grasses. She wished for the stranger to come to her again but Lanna was learning that he would not come to her at night....nor would he come to her at any time of the day but the time that he saw fit. She didn't understand why he didn't come to her when she really needed him.

Robert's father walked into the bedroom with a box in his hand. Lanna sat up in bed and smiled at him. He had been attending his anger classes and he had even stopped drinking. She was proud of him and she had been fixing his favourite meals. She reached out for him and pulled him back down into the bed.

"Hey there handsome man." Lanna cooed and smiled at him.

The man looked at her and he put the little box in Lanna's hand. It was wrapped in silver paper and topped with a camoflauge bow. Lanna laughed and took the box. Her surprise made her cheeks redden.

"what is this, Patrick?" she tilted her head and then waited.

"Just open it, silly."

Lanna opened the present and pulled out a gold chain with a charm danling on the end. The charm was something special to Lanna. It was a golden butterfly with diamonds embedded on the wings. Lanna gasped at its beauty.

"oooh, I love it! But what occasion is this for?"

Patrick smiled and then he took on a serious look. His blue eyes glimmered in the light of the lamp.

"This respresents your freedom....and...a new beginning for us, Lanna."

Lanna rose up in bed; she was sweating again and she knew that the fever was fighting hard with her. Her skin was dry and she just couldn't seem to get her eyes to focus. She jumped from the bed thinking of Robert and his fighte with the fever. She knew that he must be worse. She ran to his room and saw him lying there. He was still and her first thoughts was to turn and go back to bed but something held her there. She looked at Robert and tried to adjust her focus. He looked very pale and he was indeed being very still. Lanna went to his bedside and tried to rouse him. She picked him up and saw that his eyes were open. She called out to him, she shook him a little but she got no response. Lanna tried a few more things and then she called the ambulance. But, it was too late...Robert was already gone.

Lanna had no idea how to live was pointless without them. Her meds were topped off and she walked around like a zombie. She managed and she was so heavily medicated that she could not take her own life. She had no family but the neighbors checked in on her from time to time only to see her hard at work on some sewing project or reading some book. Lanna went back outside to drink her coffee at 9:00 am ...just as before. When the bus would go down the road and refuse to stop at the house, Lanna would run after it for a few feet then turn back wondering what she was supposed to be doing. She took out Robert's clothes and washed them over and over because they should be kept clean. One day, she walked to the treeline and sat there for about an hour. At some point she felt the tear flow down her cheek and she knew that something wasn't right. The disease was spreading again.

At 9:00 am on the next day, she looked up across the feild and saw them...there at the treeline. A man and small child. She knew, they would come...sooner or later. She took another drink of her black coffee and watched them disappear back into the forest. She smiled...for the first time in weeks, she smiled and then held her little butterfly charm tightly in her hand.

"A new beginning...yes."

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

How to make Sioux Hunting Weapons

Want to know how to make Sioux Hunting weapons? Well, history can tell us that. Sioux weapons were mainly bow and arrow. The Sioux Indians hunted many animals, including bears and other large beasts. When hunting these animals, the best weapons were ones which could be used at some distance.And, there was more thought put into weaponry than most would think.
 The most popular bow used was the double curved variety. The length of the bow was the length of the archer's arm. The arm was measured from the tip of the finger to the outside hip at the joint. This is as the arm is stretched out parallel with the ground.
The bow was made of green ash. In this instance, unlike most other Native American bows, the bow was not backed with animal sinew. The Shaft was made simply by cleaning and bending the wood removed from the Ash tree.
The arrow was also made from green ash. The arrow shaft itself was measured from the tip fo the fingers to the elbow. Usually shafts were used from the thin branches which were cleaned and straightened.
The Sioux people mostly utilized stone, bone and sinew for the construction of the arrowheads.  Sometimes steel was used for a stronger tip on the arrowhead. The Dakota Sioux often banded their arrows with red and blue stripes.
There was pride in the creation of the Sioux weapons. The Natives not only made weapons with the thought of finding nourishment for their families. Prayers were given while they constructed their hunting tools. The making of Sioux weapons was a simple but highly thought out task, that not only brought them food but also unity.