Friday, August 24, 2012

Excerpt from "A Scene in Time", my novel


Chapter Five 


Two days later….. 


Adam had dressed into his brand new navy and gold Cavalry uniform.  His blonde hair curled about the lapels.  He wore the brand new black riding boots and his wide-brimmed hat that he always wore out gardening. 
Abby took one look at him and thought that he was the most handsome man to ever wear a uniform.  His emerald green eyes shone with pride and purpose.  She was going to miss him horribly, but the war was inevitable. 
He walked up to her and put his arm around her.  She looked up to him.  She knew this was goodbye.  She didn’t know how but she knew this would be the last time she would see him alive.  He pulled gently away from her, and opened the door.  He had already readied the horse for the journey. 
He opened the door. “I am going to miss you, love. So much!” 
“You come back to me, ye hear? You come back!” 
“I promise,” he said as he kissed her one last time. 
He walked out the door, got into the saddle, and then coaxed the horse into a trot.  She watched as he rode off, until she could no longer see him or the horse. 

Two days later: 
Adam rode into Washington.  It was his first time in the big city.  To him it was crowded and dirty.  He liked being in his little piece of heaven, amongst the wildflowers and tall evergreen trees.  The streets were littered with troops, of all ages. 
“Sir!” He heard a familiar voice yelling at him, as he slowed his horse to a stop. 
“Sarge, is that you?” 
“Yes, sir, it surely is.” 
“What the hell are you doing here?” 
“I got orders to ride with the 3rd Cavalry, Major.  I will be riding under you, sir.” 
Adam was shocked. “What did your ma say?” 
“Oh, she had a fit of the vapors, and then promptly sent me packin’.” O’Connell said with a sarcastic smile plastered on his tanned face. 
“Actually, Major, she told me that I had to do my duty and that she understood.” 
The smile left the younger man’s face. “How did your wife take it, sir? I know you were worried about it.” 
“She took it hard, really hard.  But, I am here now that’s all that matters. 
He then guided the horse towards a tent where several men had lined up next too.  He slid off the horse, handed the reins to a young man, and then stepped into the line. 
He really didn’t know why he was standing in line.  Until he got within listening distance.  He knew enough, that he quickly got out of the line.  This was the general’s tent; there was no real reason why he would need to hear anything that would be talked about there. 
As he was just about to go to find out where his lodging was, when a young man (almost his age) stopped him. “Major, sir, the General would like to speak with you.” The younger man said with a slight salute. 
Corporal McKinaugh came over from Ireland with his parents roughly the same time that Abby had come over with her family.  The Irish brogue still audible in his soft baritone voice.  His bright red hair, Adam thought to himself, would be the death of the young soldier.   
McKinaugh had the typical Irish deviance.  Always out drinking, even at his tender age of 15.  He had lied on the paperwork, so that he could see some of the action.  He had always understood how the “blackies” felt.  His own people were treated no less than the slaves, maybe slightly better.  His own father was forced into fighting in the United States Army, as a form of servitude.   
McKinaugh really didn’t want to be on any particular side but he really couldn’t get past the idea that any given people could be enslaved.  It didn’t really make sense to him.  He knew that his people were slaves in Ireland to the English.  The English had taken over the island many of hundreds of years ago.  So, he grew up being a slave. 

McKinaugh guided Adam back toward the tent, where a very stately man was sitting on a makeshift chair.  The man was wearing his blue and gold Union uniform. At his side was a very ornate sword and sheath.  The man’s face told of many years of military service.  General Irvin McDowell had high cheekbones, which gave his eyes prominence. The General’s, very rough demeanor was just a show to those who didn’t believe he was capable of stopping the rebellion. 
McDowell was an impressive, imposing character.  He was in charge of the entire Union Army, and here Adam was in the same tent as the general.   As Adam finally entered the tent, he saluted the stately general. 
“General, sir, I am Major Adam Wellesley with the 3rd Cavalry Division.  What can I do for you, sir?” 
“Major,” the general said after he saluted back, “we are on the verge of battle.  We are also the force between the rebs and capital.  What I want you to do, Major is to train your Cavalry and get them ready for the fight to come.” 
“Yes, sir,” Adam replied, as he saluted the last time and walked out of the tent. 
Adam had never trained anyone to do anything, and who he came to be in charge of a whole battalion of men was beyond him.  Why had O’Connell done this? 
Adam was guided about by the general’s adjutant, Corporal McKinaugh.  McKinaugh told him that he was just days away from getting a promotion, because of his service to the general.  He was soon to become Major Patrick A. McKinaugh.  The average height, red head’s face was beaming in a bright smile. 
“Major, sir, were you given a tent, sir?” 
“No I wasn’t, Corporal.” 
“I will show you to the commissary tent, sir, and help you erect the tent sir. And, might I also add, sir, that you should get some sleep because we will be up mighty earlier, sir.” McKinaugh said in his deep Irish brogue. 
“That sounds like a great idea, Corporal.  And would you mind not calling me sir.  I am no older then you.  My name is Adam, all me that would you?” 
“I would gladly do that, sir, but it’s the thing with the Army, sir.  They don’t like familiarity among troops, sir.” 
“Well, just between you and I, Corporal, we will use our given names. I think that would do.” 
McKinaugh nodded, “That sounds mighty nice to me, Sir, I mean Adam.  My name be Patrick but me friends call me Paddy.”  
The two men shook hands and they walked towards the commissary tent to get supplies.  They talked of their sweethearts, as they worked on erecting the tent and then fixing something for supper. 

The next day proved to be just as hard.  Adam was introduced to the men.  In his battalion, of course, was O’Connell standing in the front row. But, there wasn’t anyone else he recognized.   
“Men, this is Major Wellesley.  He will be in charge of training you.  Major, meet with your Sergeant and get these men ready for battle, they will be fighting here any day.”  Said the man who introduced him with a salute.  
“Sergeant O’Connell, step forward, all other men go about your morning duties,” Adam said with authority. 
Adam wasn’t sure what he was doing but he felt good being in the position he was in.  He looked at O’Connell and nodded. “Serge, you know more about training men then I do.  Let’s get some drills going, shall we.” 
“Yes, sir,” O’Connell replied as he stepped towards the men, “grab your rifles men.” Said the man who introduced him with a salute.  
“Sergeant O’Connell, step forward, all other men go about your morning duties,” Adam said with authority. 
Adam wasn’t sure what he was doing but he felt good being in the position he was in.  He looked at O’Connell and nodded. “Serge, you know more about training men then I do.  Let’s get some drills going, shall we.” 
“Yes, sir,” O’Connell replied as he stepped towards the men, “grab your rifles men.” 
O’Connell commenced with the drills.  He watched as his men learned how to battle with guns, sabers, and bayonets.  And when they were done drilling with the weapons, he watched as they learned to march in lines of battle and into lines of four.  He knew these from the little he learned from his grandfather who had lost a leg in the War of Independence.  
The men were looking good as they drilled for hours and hours.  Adam was a pretty lenient officer.  At least, that’s what the men thought.  He was a kind man, who was forced to be commanding and rough.   
That night as Adam was having a bite to eat; he got out a tablet of paper and a pen, and started to write Abby. 
My dearest Abby,
I know that it has been a while. My days compromise of drilling and marching.  I have made a couple of friends amongst the men that are in my battalion.  Sergeant O’Connell, who was the man that recruited me, is my drilling mate.  He is so good at what he does that I don’t really have to do anything.   
Abby, Washington is so dirty compared to our little piece of paradise.  I miss you, the wildflowers, and the grass.  I miss your sweet touch and the way you smiled at me in the morning. Oh, Abby, I miss you so much.  The General said that we will be marching off to battle here in a couple days.  I guess that the rebs have been massing somewhere south of Bull Run Creek.  I will be back in Virginia.  I wish I could get some leave time to come see you but this war is just starting and there is no way I am going to be able to get out. 
Until we met again, my love.
Your loving husband,
Adam
He sealed the letter in a makeshift envelope and handed it to the courier. He missed Abby so much, so much so that his heart felt like it was breaking while he wrote the letter.  He would write her more later, he promised himself.  The letter he had written was shorter then he wanted it, but he didn’t have much to say yet.  Even if he could say what he wanted, the information that he would’ve written was considered classified.   
Corporal McKinaugh came up to his tent. “Adam, the general would like to speak to you.” 
“I will be right there, Paddy, just let him know that.” 
Adam patted down his crumpled uniform and walked briskly to the general’s tent.   
“Major, are you men ready?” The General said with his rough voice. 
“Yes, sir, they are.  They look almost as good as those West Point boys, sir.” He said as he pointed over to the sector of the encampment that held the West Point students.   
“We are going to start a force march tomorrow, towards Bull Run Creek.  I need you and the rest of the cavalry to be split between the front of the columns and the back of the columns.  You being the Major of the 2nd Cavalry Division, I need you to be ready to fight at any given moment, to encourage your men to do the same. Can you do it, Major?”  
Adam thought for a split second, he was going to be in the front lines.  He could die!  “Yes, sir, I believe I can do that.” 
The general looked up at Adam with a questioning look in his eye.  “You might be ready for it Major, but are you ready to lose everyone in your command to get the job done.  That’s what it means to be in charge of your men’s lives.  You have to be willing to order the death of the one thing that you care the most about.” 
Adam thought more on this.  Was there a reason why he was put in this position?  He wanted to ask the General that question but he knew that the General had more on his mind other than his questions.  So, Adam saluted the general and walked back to his men. 
" Men, I have just heard the news that we will be leaving for Bull Run Creek here in the next couple days.  We will be at the head of the column.  Sergeant O'Connell please make sure the men are ready for battle." 
He then walked back to his tent.  He, personally wasn't ready for a big fight, a big battle on his home land.  His mind raced to Abby and their cottage.  He remembered times of happiness, when he should have been thinking of strategy and military ploys.  Maybe even thinking about making it through this war alive.  While, he knew that many of his comrades wouldn't make it, he knew in his mind that he wouldn't see Abby again.  It was just one of those odd feelings.  Many of the generals had these feelings, he had heard them talking. 
"Adam, what are you doing sulking here in your tent.  Don't you have drills to perform?" said a very sympathetic Paddy as he leaned on the main support of the tent. 
"Yeah, Paddy, I do but I am just reminiscing about what things used to be like.  No threat of war or starvation.  A time when we were all innocent.  Its like I can feel the life run out of this land, like blood has already been shed." 
"Adam, you should stop thinking about that sort of thing.  All you will end up doing is makin' yourself all sad and such.  There is no need for that.  You see those men out there? Those men are willing to fight and die for what they believe in, and it’s your job to see that happens.  You have a great weight put on your shoulders, me friend, but you have been thrust into this for some reason.  For some God forsaken reason you got here, for this purpose.  You can think of your wife and your home, but think of these boys and what they are here to accomplish." 
Paddy walked out of the tent and strutted back to the generals tent, knowing that he didn't even truly believe what he had told Adam.  He, himself, knew that this war would kill too many of the good ole boys.  The land would turn red with the blood of the martyrs, and there would be nothing that they could do about it.  Paddy shook his head of the thought, as he walked into the general's tent.  He stood there, as the general and his staff strategized the upcoming battle.  Nothing is quite like a general on a battlefield, he thought to himself.  As he watched on, the droning of their voices slowly receding, he came to peace with himself and his fate. 






















Chapter 6 


July 21, 1861 near Manassas, Virginia 

The atmosphere in the camp was one of intense emotions.  Every man was riled up, aching for a fight.  Every man was ready to do his duty, ready to die for their cause.  Adam recognized the spirit of the men as he marched them into columns of four.  He looked out onto the plain, which would be the land in which they would be fighting.  It was more like a valley, he thought to himself as he looked at the ridges surrounding the battlefield.  It, truly, was a beautiful landscape.  One that brought memories of home and of Abby.  Beautiful green trees speckled the land, the Bull Run Creek flowed through the valley.  As, he survey the land he caught a glimpse of carriages up on one of the ridges.  Why were people up there? Didn't they know that there would soon be a battle here? 
He had heard, by way of the general that it was going to be an easy win. He was also told that some important people would be coming over from Washington to watch the battle, since it wasn't going to be a bloody affair.  This news didn't make much since to him.  Why would people do such a thing? Battles were unpredictable, at best.  No one truly knew how this battle was going to turn out, let alone how long it would be. 
Adam's mind returned to his duty and to his men.  He lead his men up a small ridge, and as he looked out across the battlefield, he saw his foe for the first time.  A feeling of dread went through him.  Those men out there were his neighbors, classmates, and friends.  They were just like him, in many regards, most of the men were green (meaning that they had never been in the Army or in a battle before).  It was unreal to him.  He blocked the feelings, he gripped his rifle, as he urged his men forward.  The instant they reached the top of the ridge, long distance ordinance bombarded them.   The blast of the canons thundered through the air, like a thunderstorm late at night.  The sound of it echoed through the silence.  Then, whole lines of men in front of his were cut down, as the balls collided with them.   
"Hold in there men," Adam yelled out to his men, "keep on marching!" 
The lines in front of him stopped, he looked around him. As he did so, he realized that the enemy was right in front of them.  He halted his men, yelled out the command to fix bayonets.  Just as they started to fix the long metal spears onto their rifles, minie balls picked off the men on either side of Adam.  He looked down at one of the men, a hole had been punched through his forehead, making it look as if he had had a third eye.  The man on the other side had been shot in the chest, and was coughing up blood from where lay on the ground. The men were frantic, bullets whizzing past their heads.  In the distance, he heard the bugle sound the command to fall back. 
"Fall back men, fall back."   
Every man scattered, as they rushed back to their lines. Adam looked back toward his last position, he saw O'Connell struggling to get to the lines.  Just as Adam was about to help him, O'Connell fell.  A pair of arms kept Adam from racing to his friend. 
"Don't do it Adam! That's no-man's-land out there, as soon as you step foot out on that field you'll be dead.  We can't afford to lose you, sir." Adam turned towards the voice. He looked into the eyes of Paddy, then looked back out to where O'Connell lay. 
"I have to go to him Paddy," he said as tears streamed from his eyes," he might still be alive.  I have to go to him!" 
"He will still be there Adam. Just leave him for now; there is nothing you can do. Just hurry up and get behind the lines.  You need to look after your men." 
Adam looked at Paddy, knowing that he spoke the truth.  If he went onto the battlefield now, his life was forfeit, all his hard work would have been for nothing.  He felt helpless as he looked back toward the battlefield.  All those men, lying either dead or dying out there.  He could imagine the sightless eyes staring up toward the heavens, the horrors of the day etched on their faces.  He shook his head, banishing the thoughts, bringing him back to the job in store for him.  He grabbed Paddy's hand and raced towards the back of the line.   
"Adam, the General has told me to relay this message.  You have fought well and your men brave.  He also told me to tell you that we need to get the civilians off the cliffs before something happens.  I would go myself but the General refused me to go.  He says that I am too valuable." 
"So that means that I am not valuable," said Adam with a hint of sarcasm. 
"You know what I mean old man.  You and your men are to go to the cliffs and get those civilians off the battlefield before we have some casualties up there." 
Adam formed his men, and marched off the field towards the heights.  It was good to get off the battlefield, to escape the pounding of canon and the heavy swarm of bullets.  As they reached the cliffs, row after row of fancy carriages lined the ridge.  Adam caught the attention of one on-looker, he pointed at the man, and motioned the man to come over to him. 
"Sir, we need to get these people away from here.  The battle is shifting and the General doesn't want any civilian casualties." 
"Sure young man, I will get those that I can.  Too damn bloody for me to watch now anyways.  This was supposed to be an easily won affair, with very little bloodshed.  But, this has turned into quite a ruckus.  The horrors of it I can't seem to shake.  I will do what I can for you." 
Adam nodded his head, as he watched the man walk off.  The man stopped at each carriage to speak with the drivers and their passengers.  As soon as the man would walk away, the carriages would start to move.  Then something caught Adam's eye. A huge flash from down on the battlefield, then the thunder of canon sounded, then the sound of a ball hitting the ground.  People were screaming as canon fire reached their lofty positions. Horses frightened ran off with their passengers, only to perish in their escape.  The battle had reached the heights, Adam stepped up and urged all the civilians to the road.   The horse drawn carriages seemed to move all at once, the horses and drivers alike wanting to get away from the bloodshed and mayhem.  
He looked as the last carriage was about ready to turn about for the road, he heard a crash.  He watched as a cannon ball crashed into the carriage, the wheels splintering, throwing shrapnel everywhere. The ball then smashed into the legs of the horses, they crumple to the ground.  Before Adam knew it, the carriage flipped in mid-air, hit the ground, and blew into fragments.  Adam raced over to the wreckage, trying to find any survivors.  As he was tossing the broken pieces of carriage out of his way, he saw the figure of a woman.  She had been dressed as if she was going to a party.  Her elegant dress was now dirty, torn, and soaked with blood.  Adam reached in to see if she was a live, there was no pulse.  She was the first civilian casualty of the war.  How many more would there be? Adam asked himself.  He turned away and walked back towards his men.  

The day would end as a Union defeat, the men feeling demoralized and defeated.  Adam's thoughts went to O'Connell. Was he ok?  Adam walked over to the field hospital.  It was a horrendous sight. In front of him was a pile, he wasn't sure of what it was a pile of until he got closer.  It was a huge pile of arms and legs, and next to that was a even bigger pile of shoes.  The sounds of the injured men scream and moaning in pain assaulted his senses.  The smell of pain, blood, and death permeated the ground and air.  There were men sitting everywhere.  Some of them had bandages covering their heads, some were walking around with sleeves hanging limp, and still others hobbling on one leg with a crutch.  The sight itself was so horrifying to him that his stomach couldn't handle it. 
"Sir are you injured?" called a voice from within a tent, not ten feet away. 
"No I'm not but I'm looking for a buddy of mine, he was cut down not long after the battle started.  His name is Sargent O'Connell." 
"I don't recall anyone by that name coming in, Sir.  But, I will be more than happy to escort you through the hospital.  Maybe we'll come acrossed him." 
Adam followed behind the young man as he navigated through the maze of mutilated bodies, dead, and tents.  Sometime between when he got to the hospital and now the smell was no longer very bad.  It was the sorry shape of the men that worried him.  The young man stopped at a makeshift table with papers on it.   
"Sir, if he is here it would be on this here paper." 
Adam perused the names on the sheet of paper for O'Connell. Just as he was about to give up hope, he came across O’Connell’s name. Adam shouted for joy, as he tried to find out where O’Connell was. According to the paper he was scheduled for surgery.
“Doctor, can you guide me to this tent?” Adam said as he pointed to the paper.
“Sure can, sir. Follow me!”
Adam followed behind the young doctor as he meandered his way through the puzzle that was the field hospital.
“Sir, this is the place you pointed to, I will let you find your way back. I’ve got injured men to heal.” With that the young doctor was on his way.
Adam opened the tent and walked in. The sight was unbelievable. Doctors were covered from head to toe in blood, the ground was saturated with it, and men were screaming out in pain. The man, that was currently being “operated on” was O’Connell. His hair was stringy and soaked with sweat. The front of his uniform red with blood from the chest wound that he had received during the battle.
Adam walked over to the doctor, who had been eager to get the ball out of O’Connell’s chest.
“Doctor is he going to be ok?”
“I don’t rightly know, young man, that’s all up to him. I will get the ball out, don’t get me wrong. But it depends on how much energy he wants to use to get better. I’ve seen men, within the last couple days, who have had slight injuries but have died because they didn’t have the will to live. They thought themselves failures, and half a man because of the injuries they would’ve come back home with. Like I said, it all depends on him.”
“Son, can you hold his hand while I get my forceps into him. If I don’t get that ball out soon, I’m afraid of what will happen.”
Adam reached down and grabbed O’Connell’s hand, trying to be brave as the doctor reached for his forceps. Adam heard the sound of the forceps digging through the lacerated flesh around the wound. He cringed as he heard O’Connell scream for the doctor to stop, that the pain was too much. Just when Adam thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, the doctor held up his forceps.
“See this?” he said with a grin, “this was one of our guns, not a rebs!”
“Are you serious? We couldn’t tell who we were shooting at down there. We all wore the same uniforms, it was so confusing!”
“Sir, it’s not time for reflection but a time to get ready for the next battle. Just think of yourself, now, Sir.”
With that, Adam squeezed O’Connell’s hand, then walked out of the tent.

History


Oh when the times of old
Slip past the boundary of our minds,
We think about our history.
The history of all man kind.

To conquer our fears,
And visit our triumphs.
To remember our friends
And foes.
To revisit those battlefields
Now,
Slightly mowed over
Of being in no-man's land once more.

The low rumble of the canons
As the balls fly through the sky.
The men scatter,
Both the Blue and the Grey.
Then as I listen further,
Musket shots fill the air,
And as I got up to that crest
I feel one pierce my ear.

History is said to repeat itself,
But, this war that I am talking
About, my friend,
Is fought by boys not men.

So as I look at the mangled 
Bodies I see
Laying where they died,
Their sightless eyes 
Tell me their tale
Of those who have lived and died.

So, as you can see
History is something to be reverred,
Retold,
Or it is damned to be repeated.

-Jessica A (Clements) Navarro (8/23/12)

The Wilderness


Into the forest I walk,
Time nearly standing still.
I remember the battles
That were fought
In my woods,
So long ago.

My meadow was a means 
To an end,
As I see it all played out,
When men in Grey and Blue
Collide,
In a battle fought years ago.

I see this all so clearly,
As it happened before my eyes,
I see the blow that fate
Has given me,
A time to make a retreat
As fires came and swallowed up
Everything but me.

So, I tell my tale of the vision
I saw,
Of an epic battle still fought,
When deep inside I can still
Hear his voice tell me to
"Go and tell the world".

As I daydream in my meadow,
With a book clasp to my breast,
I realize that the love I have is still there.
And, as I bury that book,
That I wrote 40 years ago,
I realize that its my time to go..
Into peace forevermore.

-Jessica A (Clements) Navarro (8/22/12)

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Power of a Good Bye

We have these moments,
Those that make us burst out in anger,
Frustation and fear.
The moments that we lose ourselves,
And let those feelings sweep us away.
You, see my friend,
This is what happened to someone so close to me.

The anger, frustation, and fear are all gone.
The love, hate, and condemnation are finally at rest.
As you soar on wings of Angels,
We, those you have left behind,
Will remember you as you once were.

So, as we remember who you were,
We are reminded of how the power of
Just one good bye,
Could penetrate our beings,
As if it were ten thousand.

-Jessica A. Clements Navarro (November 2, 2011)

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Super Short Story #4


 It was like every other time she and her sisters had gone over to their grandparents house. Fun times in the backyard, playing ball with the cousins or ping-pong in the basement. The house was on a hilltop – over looking the valley. It wasn't very often that the girls got to see their grandparents, and Jackie felt that this time would be different. Unlike the other times they had visited, Jackie's parents had packed for an overnight stay. Now, this itself was strange because Jackie and the family lived about 30 miles away. But, it didn't phase Jackie in the least.

The girls; Jackie, Aubrey, and Melonie loved playing ball with the cousins. Especially since they had enough players for two whole teams. So, the girls went outside and played some with the cousins. But, what was happening side the house was something far different. The children didn't hear the screaming and yelling coming from the house.

“Kids, its time for bed!” Yelled their mother from the small porch.
The girls rushed into the house, clambered into their pajamas, and stood in line to give their Grandma and Grandpa a kiss on the cheek before heading into the room that they would spend the night in.

It was starting to get dark when Jackie heard a funny noise coming from the kitchen. She got up out of bed and tip-toed her way to where the hallway connected into the kitchen. What she saw there made her sick and furious. Her father was bent over the broken body of her Grandpa. What had he done? Jackie stayed where she was as she watched her father carry his father to the back yard. She quickly tip-toed to the big picture windows to see what her father was doing. She looked down and watched as her father took up a shovel, dug a hole, and buried her Grandpa.

With that, Jackie ran to her room and woke up her younger siblings. She motioned them to be quiet as they scrambled out the window. Where would they go? Jackie didn't know the answer but she knew that they had to get somewhere. The family wasn't safe, her father already proved that by killing their Grandpa. Jackie remembered a time where she felt safe, that one place was Mt. St. Helens. She didn't really understand why she was drawn to such a place, especially since there was no security or people that she could trust there.

The three girls ran towards the street. Just as they were to turn the corner to go down the hill, a car stopped.
“Do you three ladies need a ride?”
“Yes, sir we do. Our father just murdered our Grandfather, we need to get to Windy Ridge at Mt. St. Helens. If you could take us,” said Jackie as she nervously walked towards the car. What she didn't realize that it was her uncle.
“Hop in ladies.”


Mt. St. Helens: 3 hours later

Jackie and her sisters got out of the car at Windy Ridge. They walked on the paths a bit, to get a closer look into the mountains crater. Just then, Jackie caught a glimpse of something shiny. She turned around and saw her dad rushing at her. Out of no where Aubrey came up behind her with a sword. . . .

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Dang it all! Jackie thought to herself as she slowly began to wake up. She had wanted to know how that dream ended. Would they all die? Did Aubrey kill their dad? And why were there swords involved? The dream by itself made no sense to her at all.

Six years later:

Jackie woke up screaming. I've had this dream before she said to herself. But wasn't it Aubrey who had the sword? Why did Melonie have the sword this time? The dream still made no sense.

The dream would haunt Jackie for years. Everyone once in a great while she would think about the dream and what mysteries it held. Every six years, since the very first dream, this horrible nightmare would repeat itself and it always ended the same. One of her sisters with a sword andBEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Super Short Story #3


Kevin was a just a young child when his mother died. He never really found out how she had died. The orphanage that he spent most of his childhood at told him that she had fallen ill during the outbreak of 2910. Pretty close to a third of the Earth's population died in the outbreak. Some say it was the bubonic plague, while others said it was the small pox, and even more said it was God's wrath upon mankind for being so full of themselves.

Kevin was short for his age with golden hair and grey-ish eyes. His eyes shone with mischief and playfulness. These, of course, were not qualities that the orphanage wanted to see. They wanted obedience. Kevin learned at a very young age what discipline was. Each time he got a little too rowdy with one of the other boys he was whipped until his back bled. To his advantage, the scars on his back toughened his skin, so that he couldn't feel the onslaught of the whip.

It wasn't until he reached the ripe old age of 12 that he was sent out of the confines of the orphanage to seek work. Work was hard enough to find since the outbreak. Those that were strong enough were forced into cruel manual labor, at the docks mostly. Those who weren't so strong were sent to the capital where they were destined to a life of boring paperwork. There weren't any poor or homeless, the outbreak fixed that. In fact, rumors had it, that the outbreak was caused by the poor and homeless.

Kevin walked along, what used to be a train trestle, to get to town. As he approached the edge of town, a group of boys came upon him. They all seemed to be his age, their clothing were nothing more than rags, and they all seemed to be smoking. Not exactly knowing what he should do, Kevin decided that the best thing to do was to run. But, the gang of boys easily caught up to Kevin with ease.

“Hey kid,” the leader of the group shouted, “you looking for work? Because we have room for one more boy in our enterprise.”

“And what might that be?”

“You will just have to join to find out.”

So, with that, Kevin started his life of crime. It really kinda suited him, the thrill of the chase, the total lack of discipline, and constant money in his pocket. The gang was his family, his only source of support. The orphanage was a memory from a distant past.

When Kevin turned 15, everything started to get a bit testy. The gangs old haunting grounds were slowly starting to be patrolled by the centurions. Taken from the ancients, these men were known for their courage and brutality. No one got away from these men. A couple members of the gang had already been captured by the centurions. The only way the gang knew this – was because the boys' heads were mounted on spikes on the capital buildings green lawn. Yes, even the ancient ways of torture had been brought back into use, as the outbreak had torn through the Earth's inhabitants.

Kevin watched as his friends, one by one, were captured. What was he supposed to do? Go into hiding? What would he do for work? He looked around him, looking for his escape. He saw a little raft, he quickly made a dash for the raft. I made it, Kevin thought to himself. Just then, he heard the loud thundering bang of a gun going off. He pitched forward. Did I make it? Was his last thought as the darkness overwhelmed him.

Super Short Story #2


It was a strange place, he thought to himself. The sun high in the sky, scorching everything its rays touched. He had already been walking, what seemed to be forever. But, who really knew in this desert? He could've been going around in circles and he wouldn't even know it. He didn't come prepared for this. He was still dressed in his armor and chain mail. The metal absorbed all the heat of the mid-day sun. Under the armor he was very slowly dehydrating, especially since he hadn't thought of bringing water to the fight. Why would he? He didn't know he was going to end up in a desert.

It didn't occur to him that once he slayed the sharp-toothed dragon that it would some how transport him to this place. The dragon had been threatening his home town for years. Taking people away to devour them later, possibly as a midnight snack. The thing was huge but beautiful. That was its danger. It was the color of the rainbow, beautiful in appearance. Its fire lite the sky as it would approach the town. All the other knights refused to go and kill such a beast. Goodrich was the only one who had the courage to save the town.

Looking back, Goodrich didn't really know what persuaded him to be the one. He was starting to have second thoughts as his squires helped put his armor on. He was a big guy, standing at just under six foot and weighed at least a good 14 stone. The armor would add another four stone to that. He was to go out with no horse, which meant that walking was going to be a pain. “Sir! Its time to go,” the squires shouted as the day slowed drifted into night.

As he was about to leave, the squires brought him the special arrows need for killing the beast. They weren't just made out of the toughest metal known to man, they had the venom of the scorpion saturating them. His people were a very inventive people. They had survived many years trying to kill these beasts. He latched the quiver and bow securely to his armor as he strode out of the keep.

Everything seemed to slow as he approached the dragons home, a cave that extended to the shore (a 3 miles away from Goodrich's location). No one had ever made it out alive from this cave. Would he be the first? He stepped into the cave, forgetting to arm himself with a torch. But, he could tell where to go by the stench in the air. The smell of rotting flesh of all kinds assaulted Goodrich's nose. He had known what the beast ate but wasn't ready himself for the fact that he might end up being the next meal.

He turned a bend in the cave. The beast must have heard him coming. Goodrich could see its eyes, a very vibrant green with gold where it should have been white. He reached for an arrow and his bow. . . .

The mid-day sun was a surprise to him. Wasn't it just dark? And what is this crunching under my feet? He was sweltering underneath his armor. He took his helmet off, hopefully so he could see better. He looked around him. He was in a desert and the crunching beneath his feet were what remained of someones or somethings meals. Human skulls – white and gleaming in the sun smiled up at him in a mocking gaze.
This brought another question to his mind, where was the beast? He knew for sure that he had not gotten his shot off or did he? He walked farther, slowly dehydrating in the mid-day sun. He had no water, he wasn't expecting this.

He heard a noise behind me but he kept walking. “What are you doing, human? You came to kill me but are you man enough to do it? I am but the only one of my kind left...,” a strong voice said behind him.
“What am I to do, Master Dragon?” he said not even turning toward his foe.
“Look at me, human,” was the dragons response.
Goodrich turned towards what he was expecting, a huge beast – but in its place was a creature the size of a miniature scorpion. It was brightly colored, with the big vibrant green eyes with gold around them.

“Human, this is what I look like in the sun. Your species is my only threat. I change to what things around me picture me as. A shape shifter of sorts. I am virtually harmless, unless provoked. The skeletons surrounding you are the remains of those who were going to kill me, and I transported them here, and here they died looking for me. You seem smarter then the rest, Human. I will transport you back to your world if you promise never to come after me again. And, I will promise you that I will never go back to your village.”

Goodrich looked at the tiny being, still trying to comprehend what he was told. He bent down on one leg, reached out to the dragon. “Master dragon, I will promise you. We shall be friends, we shall.”

The dragon looked up into Goodrich's eyes, blinked, and vanished. Before he knew what was happening, Goodrich was lying in his bed, inside the keep. Was it just a dream?  

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Family

How can one person single-handedly ruin a good night? Good question! You see, I have this allergy to latex. Yeah, I know...I've heard it all before. My little nephew's birthday is on October 30th, and I was told that there would be latex balloons. Nothing says, "we don't really want you there..." like that. Seriously? If you don't want me in your fuckin' life you should just tell me so! Don't go beating around the bush and fuckin' sugarcoat it. Just tell me straight out.
The person who said the adage that blood is thicker then water, definitely has not met my family. All the backstabbing and cold shoulders need to stop! Why did I post this on here? Because there is nowhere else for me to vent my disdain for certain family members without it coming back to bite me in the ass. Ok, so not disdain but you all know what I mean.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

The social butterfly within

When I was growing up, I didn't get out much to play with friends or even go to their houses. My idea of hanging out was hanging with my fellow pep band buddies during the third quarter of a High School football game. This was just the way things were.
Now, I find that I have become that social person who is the life of the party. Not that I'm really all that cool, its because people can see that I'm different. I'm the genuine friend, the person who is always there to help out or even hang out for a while, or maybe even go to shows with. How did I make this transition? Because, God knows, that even a year ago I was spending every waking minute by myself or with my family. I, maybe, had three friends that lived near me. Now, I have a hell of a lot more then that.
What changed? I don't know but it works.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Long time no speak....

Its been a long time since I've written anything on here. So, lets just say that things have been interesting. Today's message is one of sheer loneliness. Sure, I'm normally a very happy person, full of stupid things to say so people will laugh. But, that clownish way, hides what is really going on inside. Just like bullies terrorize kids who are weaker then them to get the "self-respect" that they crave. Sure I laugh, but deep down I'm crying. If you could just look into my eyes you would be able to see that.
The weight of too many years of being the clown, ignoring my own depression, has pushed me past my own point of no return. Its times like these that make me want to just drawn in my sorrows. But, that isn't me. I've learned to "just keep swimming" or push past these moments because there will be good times once again. Not everyone can say this. My advice to these people? Learn where your boundaries are, learn to let go, and keep swimming towards shore.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Creatures of Habit

So, we have all heard enough of the supposed "rapture" that was supposed to have happened last Saturday. A crap load of people wasted their life savings, took up picket signs, and waited for Jesus to come down and hoist them up to the big cloud in the sky.
We, as human beings, are naturally creatures of habit. But, every time some preacher dude predicts the "end of the world", do we really have to believe him? Mr. Camping, had predicted the same thing almost 20 years ago. And yet, we believed him. What's to say that another 20 years from now, a Mr. Camping wannabe, will try to do the same thing.
We can predict all we want. But, in the end we have to remember one basic thing: fool me once, shame on you...fool me twice, shame on me.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Past

We all have a past. Some of us have more of a past then others. This month holds some very tough memories from my past. May 18th will be my one year anniversary of divorce. May 8th would have been the birthdate of 1 set of twins, they would've been two years old this year. And, May 16th would have been the birthdate of the second set of twins, they would've been one year old. This month is going to be a tough one, with so much heartache. But, you know what? I don't have to go through this alone. Even though I cry by myself, that doesn't mean that others aren't mourning with me.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Super short story #1: The Nightmare

The tree branches and undergrowth stung her as she raced through the woods. The sound of her own foot steps echoing in the quietness around her. Her runners legs were no match for the cross country trek she was embarked upon. She glanced back towards where she had come from, searching in vain for the man who was hunting her.  The darkness seemed to pique her anxiety, her paranoia.
She stumbled into a clearing, her breath jagged and her pulse high. She looked around her for some escape route, some hiding spot. But, it was to no avail. As she caught her breath, she listened for footsteps or some other clue that he was coming. After a couple moments, she started running again, not really knowing where she was going or even knowing what the outcome would be.

A day earlier:

Jannelle's day started like any other day in her life. She woke up, got dressed, and ate some breakfast (which consisted a bowl of cereal).  She looked out through the kitchen windows to the "woods" that stood like an island between the house and the street. In the center of the "woods" was the small building that her father called his research lab. The small building was barely visible among the giant firs that sprouted up from the earth.  It was a place of mystery to her, even if she did work there. Beyond her cubbie hole of an office was a door that led into her fathers' lair, no one was allowed in there.
After Jannelle finished her breakfast, she walked out through the "woods" to her office, to wait for her father. It was the one thing during the day that she enjoyed doing, the one time that she could do what she wanted to do. She looked at the mountain of paperwork that she had to sort and file. When am I going to find the time to do all of this? She said to herself. Her desk was situated on the far back corner of the "sitting room" (why it was called a sitting room, she had no clue, because no one ever came to visit her father at work). The desk wasn't a big one; just big enough to hold her computer, a phone, and the paperwork. If she needed something copied, she had to go into the house to use the copier there.
Not long after she sat down, her father walked in. He was dressed in his usual black slacks, dress shirt, tie, lab coat, and his wire-rimmed glasses. He wasn't a tall man, standing at only about 5'8". He was a secretive man, but he had a temper on him. You never crossed him, never. Jannelle had learned this years ago, her sister Amelia had not.
"Your cousins, Abby and Anthony are coming over today, I would like you to give them a tour of my lab."
With that, Jannelle's father opened the door to his lab and walked in. She was completely surprised. He had never allowed anyone to come here, not even her mother was allowed (something about her mother not being able to keep secrets, or some such nonsense). She thought this kind of odd, but she start on the work that had to be done by the end of the day.

A couple hours went by when she heard a knock on the outside door. She opened the door and saw her cousins, she let them in.
"Just a moment guys, let me go get dad, then I can get you that tour," she said as she knocked on the door to her father's lab.
"Dad, Abby and Anthony are here!"
"Ok, I'll be right out."
Just then, her father opened the door and gave his neice and nephew a hug. He had a mischievous smile on his face as he looked back at the open door to his lab.
"Its ok, Jannelle, you can show them the lab," he said as he walked out of the building.
Thinking that this was even stranger, she gingerly motioned for her cousins to follow her. She walked into the lab, which seemed bigger than it was. The building itself was tiny, but this room seemed to be huge. The room was full of surgical equipment, a computer desk, two small windows, and a fire extinquisher. Just then, an odd smell assualted her nose. Just as soon as it registered, she saw Abby slide listless to the floor. Not long after, Anthony followed.
Jannelle ran through the door of the lab, and through the front door of the building. Was her father trying to kill them? If so, why? She hid behind one of the big firs, as she watched her father sneak into the building, until it was dark. Slightly intrigued, she walked around the building to one of the two small windows. She stood on a larger boulder that was conveniently placed by the window. What she saw horrified her.
She watched as her father put Abby on the surgical table (as far as she knew Abby was still alive), then she saw blood splurting everywhere. She felt her footing give way, was she reached for the window ledge. She got the window instead, just as she fell, she saw her father look up.
She got up, brushed herself off, and ran like hell. The tree branches and underbrush stung her as she raced through the woods. The sound of her own foot steps echoing in the quietness around her. Her runners legs were no match for the cross country trek she was embarked upon. She glanced back towards where she had come from, searching in vain for the man who was hunting her.  The darkness seemed to pique her anxiety, her paranoia.
She stumbled into a clearing, her breath jagged and her pulse high. She looked around her for some escape route, some hiding spot. But, it was to no avail. As she caught her breath, she listened for footsteps or some other clue that he was coming. After a couple moments, she started running again, not really knowing where she was going or even knowing what the outcome would be.
Why did it seem like the "woods" were neverending? It must be the drug that dad sprayed into the room, she thought to herself. She kept running, until the inevitable happened. She didn't see a tree root sticking up out of the earth because of the darkness, her foot got stuck, and she fell flat on her face. This was it, she said to herself. She tried to move but her ankle wouldn't give.
A figure slowly approached her. Her father didn't need to run after her, he must've known that. In his hand was a syringe full of something, as he came closer to her, he knelt down next to her.
"Don't worry, my dear, you won't feel a thing," he said has he stuck her with the needle and injected her with the fluid. . .

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Jannelle jumped up off her bed and quickly shut off her alarm clock. Oh man, what a nightmare, she thought to herself, as she slowly caught her breath. She walked slowly to the bathroom (it was right across from her bedroom). After taking a hot shower, and dressing, she walked up the stairs to eat her breakfast. It was a school day, there would be no reason for her to still feel anxious and nervous.
She looked out the kitchen windows towards the "woods". She knew that there was no lab out there, no surgical tables, no nothing. But, the realness of the dream hit her hard. She walked out her front door, and started walking up the drive. She looked into the "woods", and if by instinct, she saw a flash of something moving. She ran the 1/4 mile to the bus stop, where the other kids were waiting for the bus.
Once the bus arrived, she stepped on and never looked back.