Thoughts on Grandpa

Grandpa's in the hospital again. I know it's coming but I just feel like there's so much more that can come from his life rather than his death. I love him so much. Missing him won't solve anything...I know that...but is it selfish to not love him to the length where I'd give my heart for his?
China too...what if he dies while I'm there? How will I live with myself? Flight can take me back to his cold body...but it can't take me back to say the goodbyes I'm afraid will go unsaid. Then again, in my heart of hearts I feel that if I write my goodbyes, it'll be too preemptive and they'll be ill omens and that will not bode well.

I leave with this, that I love him and keep him forever in my heart and mind.

Random Rant

I'm so lost when it comes to people these days. They continue to twist and turn into things that I don't necessarily like or can even deal with. It's frustrating. Damn it all. I guess there are really only the hand full of people that really mean anything. And then there are the numerous files of people on the side that mean something, but don't really hold any kind of flame in the light of recent things. I'm done burning candles for nothing. It's a waste of wax; a waste of time; a waste of precious things that I guess I can't really care to let go any more. Things are changing and I can see that in retrospect, I guess I just don't want them to.
There are things, people, even...tiny things that I miss, or I'm going to miss. It's sad. I love so openly and I get hurt over and over again. I almost just want to tell people to fuck off...I guess that would be just the tip of the proverbial iceberg of bullshit that happens throughout my daily life. It's something that I guess I'm going to have to deal with. Maybe I'll write about it. That's probably the best thing to do and it's something that I knew was going to happen...


More later.

Happy Birthday Kristan =)

Today is your birthday
A day to celebrate you
Remember who you are and where you're going
Breathe deep and feel alive.
Believe in your heart
Have confidence in your mind
And smile.
They say live, laugh, love
Do more and be true
Be you.
-sg-

-Untitled-

I grabbed my robe from the hanger on the back of bedroom door. Glancing at the clock I noted the time. 2:47am. Who would be ringing my doorbell now? I turned on some lights as I went and hushed Shinobi and Björk. Images ran through my head of the time the police woke up me like this, to tell me that Henry had been in an accident. I had hoped never to answer a door to something like that ever again. I peeked through the peep hole and saw Sinead and Sammy, my newborn grandson, standing on the porch. I unlocked the door hurriedly and tore open the screen door as fast as I could.
She stood there, like a skeleton. Blood dripped from her nose and a cut, blossoming with a bruise adorned her right eyebrow. She fell forward onto me and sobbed uncontrollably. I took Sammy from her arms and ushered her inside. She found her way to the den while I calmed Sammy back to sleep and placed him in a crib upstairs. I rushed back down to Sinead and looked worriedly at her face.
“Sinead, what happened? Are you alright? Where are the girls? Are they ok? Where’s Matthew?” I handed her a facecloth I’d grabbed from the linen closet upstairs and dug in the hope chest for a first aid kit. She looked as though she’d run head first into a wall. I dabbed some antiseptic onto her wounds and she shivered at my touch. I had some idea of what had happened. I knew this cringe; I knew the tell-tale signs of abuse. It stirred memories I had tried to conceal for years. I hoped that I was wrong.
“I’m…I’m so sorry Mum. I know it’s terribly late and all, but we had nowhere to go,” her words were barely audible over her sobs.
“It’s perfectly alright darling. You know you’re always welcome here, no matter what time it is. You need to tell me what happened though.”
She looked at me and I could see the hurt and the night’s events play over her face. She told me the girls had gone to a friend’s house and that Matt had gone out with some friends. The house was a mess from the baby and Sinead hadn’t had time to clean up before Matt got home. He had become increasingly quick to violence and she didn’t understand why. She kept the house in order and things were done right so as to avoid any rage from Matt’s part. Tonight, she wasn’t so lucky.
“Matt did…did…this,” she pointed to her battered face and started to sob again. I put a comforting arm around her shoulders and knew no words would wash away tonight’s horrors. She laid her head in my lap and I rocked her back and forth, soothing her as I used to when she was a child. I had to admit I was awe struck and didn’t know what to make of the whole thing. Matt had never been a violent man and had never shown signs of it; then again, neither had Henry. This was the main reason I’d abolished drinking of any form from my household.
“You once told me to watch out for his temper, jokingly. But I never listened and tonight…” she broke off into a heave of tears again and I could only make out a few words. I walked to the kitchen to compose myself. A mother’s instinct would be to hunt down the bastard and kill him, but I knew better. I made tea and brought Sinead a cup and a blanket for her to cuddle under. I knew there was no comforting a beaten woman; knowing what it was like would help.
“Try and tell me what he did, Sinead. I need to know. It’ll help us if we need to get in touch with the police.” I said this last part hesitantly not wanting to send her into shock. I knew that she would be upset if she found out Matt could get arrested for this and that I would try my personal best to get that piece of shit locked away.
“He came home and was so angry about the house being a mess. He took Sammy from me and put him in his crib and the...then…he hit me. He told me I was a bad mother and wife and that I was worthless…and…and…” Her sobs took over again and I laid her back on my lap not wanting to force her more than I should. The fact that the children were ok was a small relief for me; this was not the end of this war. It was only the first battle, the first of many.
***
I walked the tea cups back to the kitchen and placed them in the sink. The clock on the stove flashed 4:33 am. I pulled my robe closer around my body, trying to absorb some heat from the lifeless feeling the conversation with Sinead had left me with. I knew how she felt. I sat at the counter and put my head in my hands. Thoughts of my first years with Henry flooded my mind.
***
I grabbed my suitcase and tore open my dresser drawer.
“I’m leaving you Henry and I don’t care about you any more.” I stuffed blouses into my case, tears streaming down my face.
“You can’t do this Peggie. You know I love you and I’ll change for you.” He dropped to his knees at this statement. Cupping his head in his hands he cried. His fists met the floor and shook the cups in the cabinet.
“You always say that Henry O’Donelly! You always claim you’ll stop drinking, and come home drunk. Hiding whiskey bottles in the god damn sink cabinet. You claim you won’t hit me again. I still pull out cover up to hide the scars and the bruises. I’m sick of your lies and I’m sick of the tears. I’m through with you and this god forsaken hole you’ve made us live in.” I slammed the top of my suitcase shut.
“Peg…I’ve done the best I can for you! I know that I’m not a millionaire or a suave businessman; you know that’s not me. I thought you loved me for who I was. I don’t know what else to fuckin’ do for you.” He walked over and tore my suitcase out of my hands. I fell to the floor, picking up the camisoles and stockings that fell out and sobbed into the mass of fabric in my hands.
Henry knocked the suitcase over to the other side of the room and knelt down in front of me. I quickly skittered away and cowered in a corner of the bed; not our bed…it wasn’t ours any more. Henry stood and shook his head. He moved to the doorway of the bedroom. His white beater was soaked with sweat and his face stained with tears. I couldn’t let him get to me now; I had to leave, for the both of us.
He walked over to me and knelt at the side of the bed.
“Margaret, please…” he wept. “Please, I love you too much. You give me a purpose in this meanin’less world. I’d die for you and I want nothin’ more than to make you happy. I promise,” he over emphasized ‘promise’ and started to cry again. “I will do right by you from now on. I’ll go to church; I’ll get cleaned up and look like a respectable husband. No more whiskey. I’ll get rid of all the drinkin’. Please Maggie, don’t leave me like this. I’m nothin’ with out you.”
I sighed heavily, looking from the small golden ring on my left hand to the broken man on the floor in front of me. I put my legs over the side of the bed. I looked around the room, and sighed again. The suitcase was a wreck next to the dresser, which itself was torn apart. The sheets of the bed were askew from my frightened leap onto it. It was a mess. All of this was; this room; our life; the world.
The lights in the room flickered as the midnight train hammered by. Henry crawled closer to my legs and laid his head on my lap. I could feel the dampness of his face seeping through my skirt. Grabbing my hand, he kissed it and sobbed lowly, something that sounded like “I love you” escaped his lips.
Should I stay? I thought through everything in my head. What if this was like the last time? Would this continue to happen over and over? Could I endure that evil…it could kill me.
I placed a hand on Henry’s head and bent over to kiss it. “If you fail me again Henry O’Donelly, I’ll leave you for good. No negotiating. I’ll be gone and you’ll be alone. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” he said. “I swear to you, I’ll change for the both of us. I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“…three of us,” I corrected. “The three of us.”
“Wait, Peg…you don’t mean?” He looked at my face and then at my midriff. He put a hand on it and then placed his head back on my lap. The tension in the room swirled around like the thick August air. “I’m gonna be a daddy? Can you believe it…?” He smiled, like I hadn’t seen him smile in months.
“The doctor told me yesterday. That’s why I was leaving you. I don’t want my...” I paused. “Our, baby to be brought into a violent world. I won’t have violence littering its life. I can’t.” I wiped a tear away and put my other hand over Henry’s.
“Promise me, one more time. Sincerely, you bet your life on it Henry. Change, for our family, for our baby. I need to hear it one more time.”
He looked me in the eyes and tightened his grip on my hand. “I promise you Margaret Mary O’Donelly.” He leaned up and sealed his promise with a kiss.

Rant

Photo by Kenneth Parker
www.kennethparker.com


Ok; so now that I'm done posting story after story; I'll wait and write a real post about things.

Life sucks. It's busy and tiring and I feel like small weights are crushing me and obstructing me from the real thing.

I have two essays due Thursday, one due tomorrow, a portfolio due next week, and two articles. One due by tomorrow and the other by Sunday.

Please. Shoot. Me.

I guess; of course; life could be worse, but whatever.

I'm lonely. I want to cuddle. I want a lot and I ask for nothing. It's messed up.

I guess that's the life of a graduating senior in college though. Scary.

Fantasy Prompt 5

Instructions: Create a 2 page short short/sketch/section of a story that is based on a classic myth or fairytale.

I was sitting in the library looking through numerous books. It had to be here somewhere; it couldn’t be something that was just a dream. There needed to be something more on the whole thing. I was determined to find anything; a hint, a story, some kind of newspaper article. There had to be something. I closed the large book of stories about Native American legends and then the one next to it about Romanian folktales. I then pulled over the small viewing machine that I borrowed from the library to view newspaper slides. I went through hundreds that night; one right after the other. I was woken up about two hours later, the librarian nudging me to wake up and leave. She told me she’d hold all my books and newspaper articles for me if I wanted to come back in the morning. I told her thanks and grabbed my coat.
I knew that I would find nothing until I really started to delve into things that weren’t in the library. I would have to find something, or someone to talk to. I pulled up my collar as I walked and let the cold air swirl into my lungs. The streets of Boston were never safe at night; but I guess walking down two blocks wasn’t so bad. The street lights were in full bloom and it was comforting to know that cops were patrolling most of the time. I just needed to get home and start pouring over some more resources, basically the internet. That would probably be where I would find the most interesting and even the most believable stories. A lot of people think that stories you see on the internet are all fake; but there can be some truth behind the stupid stories that some people post on there.
I went to bed that night wanting to thinking nothing of the woman screaming the alley way. She was so sad, even if she was a hooker. I guess that her red skirt and tube top had given her away. Or maybe it was the growling hairy figure that haunted my waking thoughts that had really given me the encouragement to find out what it was. I had some clues and they might help. I looked at my list before I slept so it ran through my dreams as well.
1. The color red seems to have some kind of symbolism
2. The creature growled, like a wolf
3. Happened on a Wednesday night
4. Multiple missing persons have been reported in the last month
The list went on and on and it was the only thing that reeled through my head all night. I was sure that I had heard of something like this before. I woke up the next morning to knocking on my door.
“Jimmy? Ah you awake? Come on its Gina! Open the fecking door; you said yous was gonna watch Julia fa me taday,” she pounded on the door again and I could hear Julia in the back ground.
“Ma, whens Uncle Jimmy gonna open the door? I gotta pee and my feets ah hurtin’ me,” I could hear her little hand smack the door as she started to create a ruckus too. “Uncle Jimmy! Open da door!!! I gotta pee and I wanna watch Dora!!”
I slipped on my jeans from the night before; forgetting a shirt and unlocked the door. Gina was a good friend of mine, who got knocked up by some asshole. I took care of Julia for her all the time. She was a good kid and I really liked Gina enough to know that she appreciated it more than she said.
“Hey Gina, how ya doin’?” I leaned over and kissed her cheek. She smiled up at me and I bent down to grab Julia. “Hey there baby girl. You ready fa a great day. I gotta great plan fa taday. We’re gonna hit up the library. Uncle Jim’s got some readin’ ta do.”
“Aww, but Uncle Jimmy, I was gonna watch Dora! And den I was gonna ask yous to read a story to me! I brought ova Little Red Ridding Hood! It’s supposed ta be wicked good,” she grabbed the book out of her book bag and held it up to me. I took the book from her and it dawned on me. I sat down and I looked up at Gina. She shook her head and kissed Julia good bye.
“Don’t you drag her too much inta ya little fairy tale world Jimmy. You know she got a big imagination and she’s just like you and gets really inta things. Dora’s easier…especially compared to da things you like to play around with,” she walked out the door and shut it behind her.
I took out the book again and noticed the Big Bad Wolf on the front and the frightened little girl in the red hood. It wasn’t like I’d never dealt with anything like this before. I mean I was a well read man; a scholar of the supernatural. It was something that I really prided myself on too. I felt Julia tugging on my pant’s leg.
“Uncle Jimmy?”
“Yeah baby girl?”
“I saw dis man walkin’ down the street dis mornin’. He was big and furry and looked like he needed a good hair cut. He even hada tail! But my ma didn’t believe me. I swea, he looked jus like a freakin’ wolf!”
“Watch ya mouth Julia, or there’ll be soap in it da next time you wanna mouth off.”
“Yes Uncle Jimmy…you do believe me though dontcha?”
“Of course baby girl; of course.”
After all one couldn’t hunt the paranormal and supernatural without knowing a bit of the territory first could they?

Fantasy Prompt 4

Instructions: Write a 2 page sketch/outline/short short/ story section that gives the plan for a magic system in a fantasy world. What are the costs? Who can use magic? How is magic thought of/used? You may come up with a political system or a race instead of a magic system.

I walked downtown, and took a left onto Right St. How ironic, I thought to myself. I guess that was all just a big joke, as most things were around here. I pulled up my collar and walked up to the Korean Barbeque and knocked on the back door. A slot slid back, revealing a pair of red eyes.
“Code word?” the voice was deep and raspy, like a chain smoker.
“Bezoar,” I flipped open my Zippo and tapped my pack of Blacks on my wrist. I pulled out one of the cloves out with my lips and lit it. Taking a long drag off of it I looked at my watch. 11:54pm…I only had about 3 hours. I took another long drag off of my clove and tapped my foot impatiently. I really didn’t have time for this. I blew out the exhaust from my lungs and heard the opening of the locks, the sliding of the latch and the turning of the handle.
A large man in a long robe stood in the doorway and blocked my path. He held out his hand and I extended my arm. He pulled the sleeve of my trench coat and nodded seeing the token of acceptance. A searing brand throbbed on my forearm. It burned and was bothersome. He moved out of my way.
“Ms. Halor, anything I can plan for you while you’re shopping?” he bowed his head as I stepped over the threshold. I handed him my coat and shook out my shoulders.
“I guess that you could order a massage with Thisbe and make sure that there’s a cab waiting for me in about an hour. I’ll be done soon.” I put out the clove in the ashtray near the door and walked down the dark hallway. I looked at my watch again and picked up the pace. I needed my fix and time was really running out.
I finally reached the entrance to the Market. The sound of the entire place hit me at once and put on my sunglasses. The shinning lights from the enchanted ceiling would blind a normal human. There were booths, restaurants, and open aired venders selling their wares. I knew where I was going, and let my feet do their thing, leading me there. My first stop was to see Trek. Trek was my connection to my fix. It was the only way to find it. The Market was only known to people whose families have a background of Magique.
I found Trek’s place easily, I’d been here many times before. I turned my neck to the side and cracked it. I pushed back the curtain and entered the opium den and took off my glasses and looked around at who was partaking today. Malaysia was there, and so was Benito. They were sitting in the back corner smoking out of a hookah, and looked up only briefly looked up and then went back to their conversation. I walked up to Trek and threw down a wad of money and a small black bag.
“Trek…I need a hit. A big one, I’ve got things to do and not a lot of time. Hook me up?” I tapped my foot impatiently, my arm itching the whole time.
“Oh, Anissa, hey…I was expecting you,” he looked at the stack of twenties and the bag of gems, “man you really do need a fix huh? Come on let’s go.”
He took my hand and led me into the back. It was clean, despite the outer appearance. It was almost like a tattoo parlor, sterile looking and something you wouldn’t expect to find in a hole like this. I followed Trek into the back and was in the chair waiting before he even got the tourniquet out.
“You really should watch yourself. You’re going to get really addicted and it’s just going to start eating away. You know the stories, the price, everything…yet you still come to get your kicks.” He measured out the correct amount of Magique and tapped the side of the syringe. I braced myself for the initial pain of the needle and then sighed as the viscous fluid flowed from the glass container, into my veins.
My body reacted the way that it always did and I shook a little and gripped the chair tightly. The energy flowed through my veins with the Magique. I felt the rush and opened my eyes. Everything was always so much clearer when you had a hit. This one was good, it would last me at least a good 3 weeks. I’d need it to deal with Christopher.
So many people, like Christopher, didn’t understand Magique. There was a deep seeded need for the world to have Magique. It was something people were born with, even though it had died out. It had to be in your family’s history to actually be used. Magique was not something for learning any more. The Elders had established a way to harness the Magique and made it into a substance that could be manipulated. Stupid teenagers made it the new fad. If you had a Magique bloodline, then you would find a way to get it. Magique was traditionally ingested; but with the world moving as it did, people needed a faster hit. That’s when injecting it started, and that’s when I started getting Magique injected. The times changed and the fads kept coming; first it was injecting, and then huffing it, followed by taking pills, smoking it, and finally tabs.
It was like the drug syndicate that only the privileged knew about, it was something that was kept from normal society, especially after the Hunt. The Hunt was to track down the witches and wizards and kill them for being different. True, some were evil and used Magique for their own selfish purposes. It was a plague on the Earth that needed to be stopped and that’s what some of us were trying to do. That’s why Magique cost so much. That’s why you needed to go underground for it. That’s why I was so intent on harnessing it for a greater purpose. Like getting rid of scum, scum like Christopher.

NOTE: This was continued on and made into a longer story. I will post this later to display what kind of short story it developed into.