Looking In

The night that my mom took my dad to the hospital replays in my head all the time. You see, that night I sat at the table with my mom, my dad was on the porch smoking. I remember playing with his knife and I pointed at him with the tip of the knife. I was teasing him. He waved at me and I laughed telling my mom that my dad needed more attention then a pregnant woman.

Now looking back at that, I wonder if my dad was waving bye to me. I wonder if he knew at that moment that our lives were about to be destroyed.

I also wonder if my dad is still on the outside looking in. I wonder if my dad is watching his family while we go through this. I wonder if he is hurting for us. I know he wouldn’t have left us if he didn’t have to, if he didn’t have something much more important to do. But I wonder if he is looking in or down at us, watching as we work through our suffering.

The more I think about it, the more I think that maybe I am the one on the outside looking in. Maybe I am peeking through a window at a world that no longer makes sense. I was window shopping for a new life and I was conned into picking a life that wasn’t as advertised.

There are other things about my dads last week with us. Things that happened that make me wonder if maybe…just maybe, if I had a time machine I could go back and save him and save my family the heartache we are going through right now.

The day before my dad went to the hospital his truck died. My mom text me saying “Your daddy’s truck died.” His truck is still sitting in the yard, broken down, needing a new water pump (or so my dad thought.) My parents were supposed to go the next day (the day after he went to the hospital) to get the new part so he could fix his truck.

Maybe a few days before, I posted on Facebook that now that we had a nice new home I thought maybe I needed a new life to go along with it. It was my way of saying I was looking for a new job…but I got a new life alright. A new life that I didn’t expect.

He worked so hard to get us into the home we are in. He was also super quick to get things into the house, things he knew we needed. It was like he was trying to rush us to get everything in and unpacked.

My dad also had more back pain the last week. He has been living with pain for something close to 20 years because he got hurt at work and was disabled. So no one thought it was weird, just that he had been working himself too hard. I wish we would have stopped and thought about it. He died of pancreatitis. Symptoms of that is back pain…back pain. Something my dad had lived with for a very long time. Something that didn’t strike any of us as odd when it got worse because it was normal.

See, this isn’t the first time that our norm has changed. Before my dad became disabled life was good. We had a home. My dad would get out in the yard and play with me and my brother. We lost part of my dad when he got hurt because he couldn’t do all that stuff anymore. Not like he used to. But we still loved my dad. We still loved him and stuck with him even when we were homeless.

It was good for me because where we had lived I had slipped into a really bad depression that was going downhill fast. So fast that I was thinking about killing myself. When my dad got hurt we had to move away and moving away took me away from the people that picked on me. Moving away took me away from all the dark things that made me want to hurt myself. I sometimes blamed myself for my dad getting hurt, because someone knew I needed to get away…and that was the way we had to go.

Life doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t make sense and it’s not fair. Why can’t it be fair? Why can’t the man upstairs let people live long and happy lives? So little would have to change for life to be fair. But I guess everyone has a different way of deciding what is fair.


Today marks 2 weeks since my dad passed. Sometimes I think the word “died” and it makes it that much worse, so I tell people my dad has passed. He has passed from this world to the next, to what ever we have to look forward too once our earthly bodies can no longer hold us down.

It was a hard day for me. A very hard day. I had to work open to close, around all these people that are going about their day and I am still shattered. I am a picture that has fallen off a while while the home owners are away on vacation, so there is no one to sweep up the pieces. I just lay on the floor broken into a million pieces.

I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have. Thoughts about not wanting to be here anymore. But I have so much to do now. My dad gave me a story to write and I have to write it. And it has given me more and more ideas to write. I am a writer and writers do best when they have pain to draw from.

I also fear something happening to my mom and my brother. Anytime I can not see them I fear something has happened. Is there a word for a fear of anyone leaving the house? Agoraphobia is the fear of going outside the house…I feel that developing a little too. But it’s more of a fear of anyone I love leaving my sights.

I looked it up, a fear of loved ones dying is called Thanatophobia. I guess there is a phobia for everything. Before my dad died I had a fear of something going wrong, like if I didn’t love my family enough one of them would be taken away. It’s almost like my heart knew it was about to get hit. Or maybe it’s just my anxiety. I may worry myself to death one day.

I keep thinking how eventually someone is going to die. Someone close to me. And then I think that maybe I don’t want to fall in love or have kids, because that is only more people to grow close to that could die. And maybe my whole life I have been protecting myself from all of this. Maybe that is why I didn’t have too many close friends and I didn’t get to close to a lot of family. Maybe this whole time I have just kept people at a distance so it wouldn’t hurt when someone died. I just thought I had more time with my immediate family. I thought I had more time with my dad.

Isn’t that the problem with everyone though? We all think we have more time, when in reality we are ticking time bombs, waiting to explode and destroy someone’s norm.

Does it make it better when you are close to more people? Does it help if you have more close friends to huddle around you when you lose something so precious? Maybe I only made it worse on myself by not being closer to people. Maybe the more pieces of your heart you give away, the less it hurts when someone dies and takes that piece with them. OR maybe not matter what you do, when a parent dies it just hurts more than anything you have ever experienced in your life.

I wonder sometimes if this all happened for some greater being to show me how minuscule my other problems were, how lame my anxiety issues were. Because it all just seems so stupid now.

We are all ticking time bombs, waiting to explode and destroy someone’s norm.

Prompt Challenge: 060216

Prompt Challenge

Hello Friends. This short story was inspired by the tragedies that took place this week. First Christina Grimmie. I have been following her since her early YouTube days. I fell in love with her voice and her beautiful personality. Her death hit me hard, even though I didn’t know her on a personal level. And then the Orlando shooting. I can’t believe the hate that is littering our world. But some beautiful things have come out of this as well. Fans have gathered to raise money to help Christina’s family. And the US has come together to help those families of the Orlando victims. Out of this tragedy I hope that you all realize that our main focus in this life is to just love and respect one another, no matter race, religion, or sexual orientation. Their may be lifestyles that I do not understand, but at the end of the day, we are all one species and to survive, we must help one another.

With that being said, I started thinking about all that Christina missed out on in life. Which lead me to think of what the people of the Orlando tragedy missed out on. And well…this came from it. I am not even going to lie, after I wrote this, the black hole in my chest wasn’t quite as big. Writing is my passion, my escape, my stress reliever. And maybe one day I will look back on this and remember how deeply affected I was by this week.

Feel free to share your thoughts of the tragedy or the story in the comments. ❤

Prompt Quote

BorderHeaven for the Young

He pointed me toward the opening in the tree. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased. It’s surprisingly large once you’re inside.”

I wonder to myself how I got here. Last I remember I was happy at a table, meeting my fans and signing whatever they threw in front of me. I remember a little pain, shock, and sadness. In the blink of an eye I woke up here, standing in front of a tree with a neon light flashing above the door. It was my name, flashing brightly. I smiled, knowing that this is what I wanted. My name was in bright lights, I was the staring attraction in this odd looking tree.

The man that spoke to me was tall and he stood so straight, a large smile on his face. His suit was flashy and classy. It was a tuxedo, black, but covered in sequins, making him sparkle as much as the neon sign. He nodded at me and opened the door to the tree. I gasped when the lights almost blinded me. The cool air and the music drew me in. “Your changing room is in the back, your wardrobe is ready for you. The makeup artist and the hair dresser will be in soon.” He began to walk towards the back of the club. Yes, it was a club with a large dance floor. A booth lined the walls all around the club. The second floor was more like a balcony with tables and chairs. A bar was against one wall and the bar tender was cleaning glasses. He looked up hearing us. He sat his glass down and waved at me, a smile spread across his face.

The man in the suit led me to the back and through another door that opened into a hallway. There were several doors, but my focus went to the one door at the end of the hall. On the door was a star and under it was my name. I could feel my own face stretch as I smiled. I didn’t need the man in the suit anymore. I walked into my room and squealed. The back wall was lined with clothes and shoes. A shelf above the clothes held wigs, not that I needed the wigs, but they looked fun. On another wall was a long couch and a table sitting in front of it. I plopped on the couch and sighed. It was the fluffiest, most comfortable couch I had ever sat in. Along another wall was a table with a mirror. On the table sat makeup beyond my wildest dreams and makeup brushes. The drawers of the table were clear and I could see more makeup there as well as jewelry and hair pins. It was everything a star could ever need.

“Call if you should need anything before the hair dresser and makeup artist come in.” The man said, walking away.

“Wait!” I shouted. “What is your name?”

“You can call me Steve. I am the club owner, but you are the star. Without you there is nothing for anyone to come to.”  He smiled.

“Where am I?” I ask, afraid of his answer.

“You know where you are.” He said.  “It is a tragic story, how you got here. But there is something beautiful that comes out of this tragedy.” He turned to take in the room. “Tonight, your headline show begins.”

“Thank you, Steve.” I whisper. He leaves, closing the door behind him. I am given a moment to myself to mourn what I have lost, to shed a tear for those I left behind. When a knock comes at the door I have cleared my head and cleaned my face. I knew that those I left behind would find me again one day and they would find me in this place, doing what I love the most. I decided at that moment, that I would be happy. I would be happy for the people I loved the most. I would make my shows great so when they find themselves here they will see that my talent was not lost, just re-homed.

I opened the door to find the hair dresser and the makeup artist, ready to doll me up, to prepare me for my show. I took a deep breath and let them in.

That night, I gave the best performance I had ever given. I started at the piano, where so many remember me. My voice bounced off the walls and filled the room as the packed club danced away, enjoying the music and the show that I gave them.

The second night, the club was even more packed. I didn’t think that was possible, but it was. All these people were new and they had come ready to dance. There was an air of sadness when they first arrived and I knew, they had just found themselves in this place. Like me, they had left loved ones behind, but they were brought her to do what they had loved. They were dancing the night away. They were dancing the pain and sadness away; coming to the conclusion I had the night before. Soon, those they had left behind would find them again.


I hope you enjoyed the story.

Reading in Public

marry him. marry him now.

This is going to be short and sweet. Because it’s Friday and I saw this picture and…well I couldn’t think of anything else anymore so this is where my mind goes.

As most of you know (since I mention it all the time) I am single. Actually, I have been single all of my life, unless you count the two internet relationships I had, which they were so short lived I don’t count them. I have never been on a date, never kissed a boy, never held hands with a boy. Yeah, I am basically Josie from “Never Been Kissed,” only 5 years later after the boy never showed up on the pitchers mound to kiss me. Yeah…that dream sailed long ago.

Sorry, what was I saying?

Oh right. I dream all the time of walking into a bookstore, browsing the books, and grabbing for the same book the same time as the cute guy who has been just as lost in the books as I have. Our gazes lock and it’s love at first sight. I giggle, he hands me the book, and we talk about the author or the book itself. When we leave, we have exchanged numbers and possibly plan on meeting up at a coffee shop for tea…you know, for our first date.

Then it will all spiral from there. On my days off work we are together, either at my house or his. We are either reading, or he is reading (or playing games) while I am working on my novel. We will watch cheesy horror movies together (because that is one of the must haves for my future boyfriend, he has to like horror movies). We will nerd over our favorite fandoms and have Netflix marathons.

And let’s not forget all the time we will spend in bookstores, picking out books and building our perfect library.

And this is probably why I am still single. I dream too much and I am told every day that love doesn’t happen like it does in the movies. But I will hold out until someone comes close to what I am looking for. He has to exist somewhere…right?

Maybe I need to start reading more in public.


Dream a Little Dream

images (2)

I had one of the most amazing dreams last night. I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning because I wanted to continue the dream. I wanted to see what would happen and where the story would go. But I woke up already knowing where it would go.

The dream was about two best friends. A girl with long blond hair and a passion for art. A boy who comes from a troubled past, working hard to earn a dollar. His current job has something to do with fire…I wasn’t sure what it was all about. He worked in a dungeon and there was always a chance of fire.

Gabriel and Claire. They needed names and after a quick search these two names fit like gloves.

Gabriel and Claire grew up together. They were fast friends in pre-school.

Gabriel always loved Claire, but she had a boyfriend, she always had a boyfriend. She was beautiful and popular. But she loved Gabriel and never left him. Even when her “popular” friends sneered at him, Claire stood up for Gabriel. Even in high school when peer pressure told them they should not be friends. They could not be separated, not even by the dark forces of teenage hormones.

Gabriel worked hard everyday, even thought high school, to make something of himself. Something that was worthy of Claire. Claire only waited for him to realize that he was already worthy of her. She had loved him since the day her mother passed away.  Out of all of her friends, Gabriel was the only one that stuck by her side and let her cry. He didn’t tell her everything would be okay. He didn’t tense when she cried. And when she had to leave the movie theater because something reminded her of her mom, Gabriel loaded her up in his truck and took her to the river.

It was bound to happen. They fall in love, it was written in the stars. But Claire waited for Gabriel to be ready.

The Actual Dream

He finally called her, told her that he needed to speak with her. She rushed to his apartment. A small room within the cavern that he was working. He had tried to clean up before she got there, but something had caught on fire…again…and his shirt had been burned. He was changing shirts when she came in and she gasped at the bleeding cuts on his arms.

He brushed her off, telling her that it was something that always happened. It was a hazard of the job. Claire smiled and lay down in the floor, patting the floor beside her. Gabriel lay down, just far enough to where Claire could not reach him.

“Why are you so far away?” She asked him.  He only shrugs. “You should be by my side, always.” She whispered.

Surprise caught in Gabriel’s eyes. Claire knew why he had called her. He moved closer to her and Claire rested her head on his chest. “How did you know?” He asked with a smile.

“I have always known. I just had to wait for you to work up the nerve.” She looked up at him. “If you had waited too much longer, I would have had to beat it out of you.” She laughed. Gabriel came up to meet her lips, a kiss that had been in the making for years. A kiss that would seal their fate. Claire kissed him back, softly, there was no need to rush, they had all of their lives together.

A fire broke up, pulling the two away again as they rushed to put out the fires. Claire was laughing which caused Gabriel to laugh. But the laughter was interrupted as an explosion sounded, blasting out part of the wall and a guy with a ski mask jumps out.

“This can’t happen.” He said as he ran from the room.

Gabriel and Claire didn’t have time to chase the guy before something in the wall caught their attention. It was a stash of lost art.

One photo caught Claire’s attention. It was small and almost morbid, but she saw herself and Gabriel. She held up the picture of two embracing skeletons, with two skeleton children at their sides. “This reminds me of us.” Claire told Gabriel.

He understood and smiled. “You want children?”

“Yeah, someday.” She sat the picture down and looked away. “But only with you.”

As they riffled through the paintings Claire sat aside the ones she knew. They would get a reward for finding the paintings. A very hefty reward that could carry them through the rest of their life.

The End

Okay, not really the end. But I think I am going to run with this dream. See what I can do with it. It left me feeling something. It was a happy dream, but there was something more to it. Something underlining the events that took place. Like…why did the one guy jump out and say “This can’t happen?” I also want to explore more about Gabriel and Claire’s lives. How old was Claire when her mother died? What happened to Gabriel’s parents? So many questions!

Have you had any dreams that you have used for a story?

Meet Again 2

My Muse Awakens

Still Looking

I have spurts of inspiration that come from every day life.  Which is how I write.  I find the simplest thing and run with it, creating something that comes from my heart and feeds my hungry soul.  This is also why most of the stories I write have a love story incorporated.

As you may know from my previous post, I have been single for a very long time.  My whole life in fact, unless you count the few internet relationships I tried for a bit.  But, those guys didn’t consider it anything real, so to save myself the embarrassment, I won’t consider them real either.

This brings me to what most of my day dreams are about.  Finding love in all the wonderful nooks and crannies in the world. Turning the corner at just the right time and running into “Mr. Right” or my soul mate.  Yes, I very firmly believe in soul mates. Then as my mind weaves through these wonderful possibilities, I start to write some of my favorite stories.  A love story that starts out tragic and ends happily.  Though, I did currently write a short story where there was no happy ending for the two love birds.  You can find it on my blog…right HERE. Go on, check it out if you like.

Of course, being the strange person that I am, I am never happy with a normal human romance.  I love to venture into the world of the supernatural and explore what happens to love when there are complications that exceed humanity. What happens when a vampire falls in love with a werewolf, or a wizard falls in love with a fairy?  How about, what happens when a vampire falls in love with a mermaid?  I have never actually explored the world of mermaids, but it could be fun.

The thing is, my writing thrives off of my hunger for romance.  A romance so deep, not even the gods could tear the lovers apart.  A romance so strong that it reaches over lifetimes to come back together again.  My soul aches for a love so epic that even the greatest love story is put to shame.  And that is one of the main reasons I write.

My biggest fear in my writing is that once I find a love that I am happy with, will my writing suffer?  Will I cease to the writer I have become?  Is it just my darkness, depression, loneliness, and hunger that drives my creativity?

I have never had love.  Other than that of family.  I have never seen a boy and fallen madly in love with him.  Sure, I have guys I have crushed on…and crushed on pretty hard.  I still compare most guys to one guy from my past.  But I have never had a love that made me feel like my chest would cave in.  That all consuming love that makes everything else in the world just another speck of dust.

I also wonder if we are all meant to find such love.  Maybe that is why so many writers tell stories of epic loves, because we are all trying to find it and it just doesn’t exist.  Or maybe we have had it in another life time and we are just trying to remember that it is out there.

Either way, right now in this very moment, my heart bleeds from it’s self-inflicted wounds. Wounds caused by my constant day dreaming of how I will find my soul mate.  All the corners that I can turn and places I will go.  Making eye contact with every guy I pass, just hoping to find that spark that will match my own spark. And that is my muse.  An ache, a spark, a bleeding heart. My muse.

10 Years From Now


Photo Credit: Mkmatsumoto (from DeviantArt)

I keep thinking about my future.  Where will I be? What will I be doing?  Who will I be with?  Who will my friends be?  So I decided to write it all down.  They say if you write things down it is more likely to come true. So here is a journal entry from the future.

*** TIME WARP***

Sunday June 16, 2024


It’s early morning.  I hate mornings, but my kids are early birds.  This morning I am up extra early.  It’s Sunday.  I have to get the kids ready for church and Sunday I always make them a fun breakfast.  It keeps them from getting too cranky while in bible school.  Not that they get to cranky, they love visiting with their friends.  Home schooling the kids, they don’t get the same kind of social interaction as kids in public schools.  Amara enjoys home schooling though, so I am hoping that next year Silas will be as easy.  He learns a little now, but he doesn’t do a full days work like Amara did this past year.

Seth, is going to be the problem child.  He likes to get into everything.  He likes to see how things work.  He is so smart for a 3 year old.  Amara and Silas are smart too, but not as observant as Seth. He watches everything.

I should get into the kitchen, before the kids wake up.  And Luke is getting annoyed with my pen racing across the page.  He is lucky he is the dad and can sleep later than the kids.  But he does work hard through the week and deserves a little extra sleep.  After all, it is because of him that I was able to stay at home with our kids, become a published author, live in this beautiful home, and no longer be in debt.  Yes, he is reading what I am writing now, but I would have said it anyways.


The kids are finally in bed and Luke and I are getting ready to watch a movie.  We could watch a new movie, but I talked him into watching Labyrinth.  It’s my favorite movie! Also, if the kids wake up they won’t see anything scary or inappropriate.  At least that was the excuse I used to win the argument of what to watch.  The kids will probably want to watch it sometime tomorrow as well.  I was a good mom, I showed them all the awesome movies from the 80’s.  The awesome movies that are appropriate for little kids.  I will wait until their pre-teens to show them the other good movies that I love from the 80’s.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day.  Luke has to go into the office for a meeting and probably won’t be home till around dinner time.  He is working on a huge project right now.  He is designing a new building for the city.  I think it’s going to be a place for concerts and other events.  I don’t ask him too many details about work, when he gets home I want him to be able to focus on relaxing with the family.

I also have a trip planned for the kids.  We are taking all of our recycling to the plant.  I want to show them where it all goes.  Amara is super excited about it.  Silas and Seth are just excited about going to the park after.

Then back home to get dinner ready.  With Luke working so late I won’t be able to get any writing done until the kids are down for bed.  It’s a good thing that I don’t need a lot of sleep like I did when I was younger.  I wouldn’t get any writing done.

Tuesday is going to be just as busy.  My helper comes in to keep Amara on track with her school work, and to keep Silas and Seth busy with something.  I have to run the bakery and train the new girl I hired.  I do a lot of baking, but with everything else going on, I needed a little help.  Jeff still helps with the decorating and a lot of design work.  I just need someone who can handle running the front and taking orders.  Lucky for me, Luke will be home early that day, so the kids will be with him after 2pm.  Then more writing once the kids go down for bed.

Wednesday Pixel goes in for her vet check up.  Crazy girl has been with me for so long now.  It’s the longest I have had any animal.  I love that sweet dog so much.  Her and Jareth, our huskey, get along so well.  Of course, Jareth is still young, only 6 months old.  He want’s to play so much more than Pixel does.  Pixel is content sleeping at my feet while I write and watching the kids play in the backyard.

Thursday and Friday Luke will be home for most of the day.  I will probably spend those two days catching up on my writing.  My next novel will be released soon and my editor want’s a copy of the one I am working on, before the other one hit’s the shelves.  Tab pushes me  pretty hard sometimes, but I wouldn’t be the great writer I am today if it wasn’t for her.  She is the best editor I could ever ask for.  And thanks to my assistant, Lacy, I can juggle being a writer, baker, business owner, wife, and most important, a mom.  It’s a lot of work, but show me someone who is happier and I will give you next months royalties.

Saturday is my 20 year high school reunion.  Luke convinced me to go.  He wants to see the guys I used to have a crush on in high school so he can tell me why he is better. He is so silly.

Luke is reading again.  It’s going to be a busy week, so I guess I better pay him some attention tonight or he might find himself a new wife.

Luke says to let who ever is reading this to know he couldn’t find a better wife than me.  He really likes my cooking.


To be honest. That was fun.  And now my fingers are crossed that my life ends up as awesome as that.  Though, that sounds like a very busy life. I would enjoy it.  What would you like your life to look like in 10 years?

The Broken Spine


I have this weird thing that I love.  It’s something that a few book lovers may not appreciate.  But to me it means so much more than what others see.

I love a book with broken spine.  I love the books that are tattered and torn, but not from the weather.  You can tell a difference.  I’m talking about those books that have been so loved that the wear and tear is caused by being taken everywhere.  Those books that have been through one place to the next, like a child’s favorite blanket or toy.  The spine is broken, the edges of the cover are soft and worn down, and some of the pages are even creased from being folded down.

Now, I am not the one to fold down a page.  I can’t stand to fold a page, and I also can not stand writing in a book.  But when the book has other things going on, like the broken spine and the worn down edges, folded pages and underlined phrases are acceptable.  Why?

These are the books that were loved so much that someone couldn’t let go.  Someone found a book that helped them through some hard time and they held on so tightly that they started to strangle the life out of the book.

I always imagine what person could have held the book and what they were going through.  I, for some reason, always think of a teenage girl.  She is still growing into the beautiful woman she is going to be one day, but at that point she isn’t pretty.  At least that’s what she thinks of her self, and she is reminded everyday by the cute, popular girls at school who pick on her.  She rides a bus to school and home everyday.  Even her home life is not that great.  Her parents fight all the time, sometimes they end up throwing things at one another.  And to top it all off, her brother who is a year older picks on her at home.  He is one of the popular kids and his friends are the ones that pick on her the most at school.

To escape this world that has been so cruel to this teenage girl, she reads books.  For some reason, this one book speaks to her more than any others.  No matter how many times she had read the book, she always finds herself lost in it’s pages.  In this book she becomes the hero of the story, or maybe she is the damsel in distress that the hero saves.  Either way, it’s better than her life.

This teenage girl reads this book over and over again.  She reads at lunch, while she sits alone at a table.  She reads on the bus, while she sits alone in a seat because no one wants to sit beside her.  She reads in her room, to drown out her parents fighting and to avoid her brothers torture.

Before long she knows every word.

Then, something amazing happens.  She looks up to find that life isn’t so bad anymore.  She is in college, away from her brother and her parents.  She has finally gotten rid of the bad acne and the braces.  She has become the beautiful woman she was becoming in high school.  She finally has wonderful friends, and her old friend, the book that saved her, sits collecting dust on a shelf.  It’s never too far away because she still can’t let go.

One day, she pulls the book down and begins to read it once again.  She sees the book for the beautiful story that it was.  It was her hero that helped her escape, but she no longer needs it.  It has served it’s purpose.  She decides to take the book to a used book store and hope that another young girl finds it helpful like her.

Maybe I put too much thought into a well loved book in a book store.  Or maybe I am seeing the stories that others refuse to accept.  A broken spine of a book doesn’t mean it was abused.  It doesn’t mean that some kid just tossed it around without a care.  Sure, it could mean that, but maybe it was the hero of the story.

Short Story: Soul Collectors (Part 7)

Short Story part 7


To catch up or see other short stories check out the Short Stories page.  I hope you enjoy!



Two weeks passed in Lilith’s basement.  Two weeks of planning and fighting about the plan, and coming up with a new plan.  I knew the layout of heaven like I knew the back of my hand.  I knew every exit, every entrance, and every secret path way.  Gabriel knew everything about heaven, and the few things he didn’t, Naolin and Lilith could fill him in.  We had a plan, a backup plan, and a backup plan for the backup plan.  My head was filled with twist and turns and possibilities.  It was the only thing we ever talked about, even Tessa kept her normal ramblings to a minimum.

I was tired of planning.  I was tired of talking about what we were going to do.  I was ready to get out there and get things done, but Lilith wanted everything perfect.  The only problem was, none of us knew what Lilith planned to do after we had freed heaven.  We were going in to free Michael, who would then help us free the rest of the angels.  Lilith said she would take care of things after that.  I didn’t trust the demon.

“No, you have to take this path first.”  Lilith said again, pulling my attention to the map of heaven.

“I think you are mistaken.  That path leads right to the dungeon where Lucy is being held.”  Naolin argued.  Lucy was Lucifer.  All the books got it wrong, saying Lucifer was a male angel.  Lucy was all female, but no one had ever really seen her.

“I need you to take a message to Lucy.”  Lilith said.  One hand rested over her forehead while the other propped her up on the table.  “It’s important that she knows what’s going on.”

“Why is that?”  I asked.  I knew there was a reason I didn’t trust Lilith and she was starting to crack.  Everyone being trapped in this little room together was driving us all a little mad.

“Because Lucy is my mother!”  Lilith shouted.

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”  I asked her, taking a step closer to her.  My hands were clenched by my side.  Sure, finding out that Lucy was Lilith’s mother was a shocker, but things made a lot more sense now.  “You want us to break into heaven and create chaos so you can free your mother.  Did you forget why she is even locked up in heaven?  Have you forgotten how she almost destroyed every human we have given our lives to protect?”

“The angels protect the humans.  Kyson, you are like me.  We are demons.  We were meant for greater things then to protect some useless life of a human.”

“No!”  I shouted.  Naolin grabbed my arm, her touch calming me almost instantly.  “We won’t do this for you.  I have been protecting human souls for as long as I can remember.  I kept them safe from demons like you.  I will not let you free Lucy.  What purpose do we have if there are no humans to protect?”

“Our purpose is to sit in heaven while we watch the angels struggle for a change.”  Lilith spit.  She was in my face, our noses almost touching.  “They sat up there lounging around, laughing while we did all the work.  Then, I was cast out of heaven because I fell in love with someone who thought he was too good for everyone.”  I watched as a tear slid down her face.  “I didn’t seduce him like the stories say.  I fell in love with him.  And he made me think he was in love with me.”  She stepped away and turned her back to me.  “He was fine with me as long as no one knew, and the moment we were caught, he cast me out.  He told everyone that I was a useless demon and he could never love someone like me.”  She turned back to face me, her face red with anger.  “He used me and I will make him pay.”

“By destroying all humans?”  I let Naolin pull me away from the argument.

“I think we need a break.”  Naolin said, her voice soft.  I almost didn’t hear her over the boiling of my own blood.  Lilith was willing to release the one person with the strength and nerve to send Earth into total chaos and destruction, just to get back at her past lover.  It was stupid and made no sense.  I followed Naolin outside and took a deep breath.  My lungs filled with the cool air of the night and the light of the moon eased my anger.

“She is being ridiculous.”  I said.  I had tilted my head to the stars, not looking at Naolin.  I didn’t want her to see the anger in my eyes.  I didn’t want to see how she looked at me now that I had lost my temper.  I thought several times that she may be falling for me, but after tonight she would only hate me.  I am a demon, and one thing that is true about us is that we have very short tempers.  How could an angel ever love a demon like me?

“She is.”  Naolin said.  I heard her sigh.  “But for now she is our only hope .”

“We can’t let her free Lucy.”  I said, looking at Naolin.  I froze where I stood when I saw the tears rolling down Naolin’s cheeks.  I hadn’t even realized she was crying.  “I’m sorry.”  I told her as I wrapped my arms around her.  “I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

“It’s not that.”  She said as she pulled away.

“Why are you crying?”  I asked, my heart was beating faster than a hummingbirds wings.  I was suddenly afraid of what she was going to say.

“It’s just, Lilith’s way may be the only way.”

“The only way?”  I stared at her, not sure what to say.

“If we don’t change things, there is no hope for us.”

“What are you talking about?  We can free the angels without freeing Lucy as well.”

“No.”  She grabbed my hand and kissed my palm.  “If we don’t change everything, we can never be together.  You and me.”  She looked into my eyes and smiled.  “I have fallen in love with you Kyson, and until heaven changes I am breaking the rules.  I can be banished from heaven forever.”  She wrapped her arms around my waist.  I had no words.  All I could manage was wraping my arms around her.  “It all has to change.  No one should be able to tell me who to love.  Why can’t an angel love a demon?”

“Even if that demon has a short temper?”  She pulled away from me and placed her hands on my face, pulling me down.  Before I could comprehend what was happening, her lips were on mine.  They were as soft as I had imagined.  The world could have ended in that moment and I would have gone happily.  She pulled away and smiled at me.

“I love everything about you and I will do whatever it takes to stay with you.”  She raised up on the balls of her feet and kissed my cheek.  “Maybe Lucy is the only answer, but we will exhaust every other option before we take that step.”

Let’s Talk about Sex

Or rather lack of sex.  Just hang in there, this is not another blog about my current situation (completely single!)  I want to talk about this guy Elliot Rodger.  Have you heard of him?  You can check out this VIDEO over at gawker if you would like.

Basically this guy has lost his mind.  He is 22 years old, a virgin, and never been kissed.  Because of all of this he feels the need to get revenge on all the girls that have rejected him, by killing them.  He went into some college and killed 7 women in a drive by shooting, then killed himself.  His only reasoning for this is that he deserved love and sex from beautiful women.

Now, I am 28, a virgin, and never been kissed.  I can be an angry person sometimes, especially when I am battling one of my depression wars.  I get down on myself because I have never been kissed.  The whole virgin thing is a choice and I am proud to say that I am a virgin.

I will go through a list in my head of all the guys I have liked.  All the guys that have rejected me in some form or another.  I have had a lot of crushes in my life, so the list can get a little long.  Actually that is a lie.  It’s not that long because I don’t really hold a grudge.  If the guy doesn’t like me, it’s not his fault.

Of course this leads me to wondering what is wrong with me.  What did I do wrong?  Am I too ugly?  Am I too fat?  Am I too childish?  WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Don’t worry, I know I am awesome, and while I could lose some weight it is not what is holding me back from finding love.  That is something that is rooted deep down inside, a glimmer of  “I’m just not ready to trust someone completely.”  Yep, I have found the cause to my singleness and it’s name is Heather.

Back to the topic.

My point is, I have never once thought about revenge on those that have rejected me.  I might have thought of punching him if he rejected me in a harsh way, but it would never go as far as killing.  Also, I never thought to get revenge on all men…just because a few have turned me down.  The only person I ever thought about hurting to the point of death, was myself.  Yes, at one point I was suicidal and I never thought to take anyone with me.

So, where does this kid get off telling the world that he is so great he deserves women and sex?  Before I saw his video I might have said “Oh, he is a cutie.”  But his whole attitude ruins any part that might have seemed attractive.

I feel like I am rambling so let me say a few more things and I will let you all get back to your day.

No one DESERVES love or sex.  Boys need to get this out of their head.  You may workout all the time to make yourself look fantastic, but that does not earn you the right to sleep with whoever.  When will the kids learn that it’s not about looks anymore.  It’s about personality!  Yes, looks can sometimes matter.  I mean, you have to be attracted to the person, but just because they are not beautiful doesn’t mean they are not a beautiful person.

I feel like I am going to stick my foot in my mouth if I continue on with that.

Let me put it this way.  You can be gorgeous, movie start status, and still look ugly.  Why?  Because beauty is also in your attitude and the way you treat others.  If you are rude and only care about yourself, that drops your beauty points to the bottom of the barrel.  Does any of this make sense?

Ugh, for a writer I sure am having a hard time explaining what is in my head.  I think I am just too emotionally attached to the whole thing.

I will end with this.  You don’t deserve love if you haven’t earned it.  And this kid…I feel sorry for him.  Not because he was a virgin, but because he was so lost in the world he felt like he deserved something without working for it.