Merry Upcoming New Year!

As seen in my previous who-knows-how-many-posts, I haven’t had the best year in the world, but, here’s to a better 2012.

 I’m getting married. I get to see numerous people I haven’t in years. I might even get to go on a Vacation. O.O My resolution this year is to simply try harder. This encompasses almost every aspect of my life. I’m going to try harder to be a better person, a better partner to my fiancé, try to not complain as much, have a better health perspective, to have a better attitude in general. I also want to be a better blogger for anyone who has, is and will read my posts.

I know that not everything is going to work out for me. That’s what failing is for. I just need to grow from it. I want feedback in all I do, that’s the only way I know what I’m doing wrong and right.

I have an idea swimming around in my head of starting up a YouTube channel. If/when that happens I’ll let you know. I just feel really intimidated putting more of me out there but I started writing this blog, so, why not try? As Maureen Johnson said on the Vlogbrothers channel one time, “You have to dare to suck.” (Best advice in the world!)

In order to become a better anything you have to try and in trying comes failure some, if not most, of the time. Without failure there is no learning. I enjoy putting things together simply because I’m allowed to screw up, undo it, and put it together the right way or in a better way.

Back when I first moved to Colorado I started to write my book again. It was my second attempt to streamline my conscious effort to put it on the computer. I believe I was on the fifth or sixth chapter when the most horrific thing that could ever happen to an author happened. Up popped a message, randomly after a stroke of a couple keys, asking if I would like to save my progress. I said, “Yes, of course I want to save my progress, this is one of the most important things to me. Why wouldn’t I want to save?” Little did I know I was saving a completely blank document.

Lacking in technical expertise (still am but not as much) I closed the page and tried to reload my work. It was completely gone. Not to be recovered ever again. It was gone to the pit of despair. Wherever I banished it, it was gone forever. I cried. Seriously I walked into my bedroom fell face down on my comforter and wept until I called my now fiancé.

Now I see that without that failure, however stupid it was, I would never have learned a few wonderful lessons. One, that I need to make sure of what I’m doing before I close anything I’m working on. Two, that version of my book absolutely sucked. If I had continued typing it without that loss I would never have wanted to change it because I had worked so hard on it.

John Green wrote Looking for Alaska and then proceeded to delete the great majority of it in order to make it better. Writing is a process. It requires a great amount of commitment and concentration. And for those of you who have made it this far, thank you. Thank you for reading my processes.

“Books don’t automatically update.” ~John Green.

Happy New Year! And DFTBA!

Where is Christmas?

I know I’ve been complaining a lot in the past few months. I have a lot to be thankful for. This was the year I finally found a doctor who could pinpoint what was wrong with me. My fiancé and I finally set a date. My family is finally starting to accept him as a part of my life.

Despite all that wonderful news that happened this year has absolutely sucked.

My sister-in-law became diagnosed with more health problems than we ever foresaw and is having complications from the treatment(s). Both matriarchs in my family died, devastating my existence. My fiancé’s grandparent’s had to face being placed in assisted living with his grandmother deteriorating even more every day. One of his aunts is having major health problems that have not been eradicated because of other complications with the same illness. Our friends have had to deal with sudden deaths and complications and many other problems that I can’t help but feel stressed for them.

On top of it all it just doesn’t feel like Christmas.

In the past I’ve put up a tree just after my birthday in anticipation of the season. I’ve wrapped presents with glee awaiting the joy that gift will bring to someone’s face in that moment and the enjoyment it will bring throughout their lives. I’ve sung along with Christmas carols while baking goodies.

This year the only tree I have, so far, is a humble Charlie Brown tree I got for my birthday that is sitting on a makeshift table in the basement where I live. I haven’t heard any Christmas songs other than the ones within South Park specials on Netflix. I haven’t made anything in terms of traditional treats of the season. The fairy lights up around town don’t spark my wonderment and exhilaration. I keep expecting it to come out of nowhere and hit me like a ton of bricks. I want it to. I want to feel wonderful and gleeful and thankful for everything I have (it’s not that I don’t it just hasn’t come as a natural response to the season).

Is it because I know my family won’t be gathering in response to Grandma’s cooking? Is it because there seems to be a culmination of stressful things that have preoccupied my mind? Is it from the fact that I’ve been thinking of all the chores that comes from putting a wedding together? Is it because I’ve turned into a complete and utter adult from my experiences this year? Have I lost my belief in magic?

Harry Potter has always been some part of my Christmas season since the late 1990s. There’s no book eight to look forward to, there’s no more movies waiting to be released. Is this depression the result of my lack of having a new adventure to follow from Harry, Ron, and Hermione? I’ll even take an adventure from their children entering Hogwarts.

Whether it be from the stress or lack of feeling a part of an all-around respectful, loving family or not having my best friend in the form of a book I just don’t feel in the holiday spirit. There’s still snow on the ground and even combined with lights almost everywhere and the decorations that are at my fiancé’s work Christmas just doesn’t seem to even exist for me this year.

My obsession with words and meanings

Okay, Okay, I know it’s been a while.

I was writing the second installment of my book when I decided to use the word ‘befuddled.’ It was a genuinely perfect word for the situation that arose but I then stared at it in all its glory and thought to myself, “What would happen if ‘befuddle’ had some archaic meaning that I don’t know?”

As in all situations like this I strolled on over to my one stop shop for words: dictionary.reference.com (not paid to type that, I just REALLY like their site). I typed in ‘befuddle’ and got a nice definition. It means either to confuse or make drunk. Then I thought, “what about fuddle? Is that even a word?

IT IS!

I’m such a dork.

It means the exact same thing! I thought it was such an underappreciated term that I changed my befuddle into fuddle, just to be quirky. I wonder what my-nonexistent-at-this-time publisher will think of that when s/he comes across that.

Tootles!

That’s also an odd word. I wonder…

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/tootles

JLS

Casually. That’s how I met you in the first place. We were bunk mates at camp. I, at least, instantly knew there was something more than just friendship in the way we opened to one another.

Since the age of seven I know I looked forward to every summer. It wasn’t just the fun I had every year but I looked forward to seeing you again. I thought you lived somewhere completely different from me, miles and miles away.

It wasn’t until eighth grade when we both joined the same high school band. It was like those summers could be extended. Life just got so much better. Then, to make it all better, we ended up playing the same instrument.

We became inseparable. We had almost every class together every semester, every year, with few exceptions. We always made sure we had the same lunch, the same general friends.

Life could not get much better. It was like you were the sister I never had and always wanted. You had so much insight. You were the first person to read a line out of my book after I revised it from middle school. I took your advice. We went prom dress shopping together. Your first major boyfriend was my first major boyfriend’s best friend.

We went through so much together.

What happened?

When we went to Florida with the band it was like you were a totally different person.

I was waiting for you and the rest of the group exactly where I said I would be.

That was the worst semester of my life. We were supposed to go to college together. There were so many things we were supposed to do together. You started dating a guy I had never heard of. You started ignoring me. And I you.

What happened?

Did all those years really not matter to you? After all that pain, after all these years I still look for you on Facebook.

Casually. That’s how I discovered you’ve been on there for some time with a lot of the same friends as me. What should I do? Ignore all that time we spent together?

Now I have the best friend I ever could have in my Fiancé. I don’t really need you. But why do I feel like I need to be friends with you on Facebook, some internet social club?

Why do I still feel this way after all these years?

Feminine things

I’ve never been much of a girly girl. My fiancé will dispute this, no doubt, but I just don’t consider myself as a pink wearing O.M.G!! type person. HOWEVER, I have rekindled my love of wearing makeup. I wore more of it in the past few days than I had in, I would say, a year. Everyone who knows me knows I don’t wear makeup regularly. It’s only on special occasions and such. In high school I wore it quite a bit, every day in fact.

Then I also wore my boots that were, in high school, dubbed “hooker boots.” Yeah, thanks for getting me in trouble with my mom when describing them, XBF. Now other than the box toe they are still really cute and awesome to wear downtown with the girls. (Another thing I don’t normally do.)

Yes, I’m an introvert. I love reading. I love to write (although for the past week or so that has been mostly for work). I love being myself even if that means that I like having the house to myself to clean or watch TV that happened a long time ago in terms of this new fast paced age. (I mean, if I’m going to be addicted to something would you prefer the above or the alternative? That’s what I thought.)

Anyway, being this person who wears makeup and heels made me feel…girly…and I kind of liked it. So much so that I’m wearing the really cute poke-a-dot shoes with the blood read heel.

You know you want a pair.

Should I do this more often? I know I really should for my self-confidence but at the same time I don’t exactly have the funds to support this habit as of yet. Then I don’t want to be a conformist, if you will. If I wear makeup and look like all the other women around me am I still going to be who I want to be: a plain faced, no product in my hair, novel writing crazy person? Or is it that I can wear heels still without the makeup? Does that work? Geez, I’m out of the loop.

Oh, by the way! I’m a part of writersmarketplace.com now. I just have to print off sample chapters and send it to quite a few publishers and keep my fingers crossed. Then hopefully not sob when the rejection mail comes.

Happy Halloween!

Everyone has fears. What better time than Halloween to discuss them and get all worked up over images that only exist in your mind?

I have a fear of drowning. I know this is silly because I was the captain of my high school’s swim team. I’m a strong swimmer and I know almost everything there is to know about it. Like what to do when you’re caught by a rip tide: don’t struggle, swim parallel to the shore until you’re out of it and then return to the shore even if you’re a block away from where you’re family has set up shop. They’ll be more upset if you’re sucked into the depths of the great blue than you having to trudge back to where they’re waiting for you. (Yep, my idiot brother had to get rescued from one even though we had just watched a special on it in our hotel room the day before.)

This fear isn’t completely irrational. I just like to breath. I’ve had asthma and I know what it’s like to not be able to breath. The panic is not worth it.

The irrational fear that I have is associated with that same panic though. I have a fear of people not liking me. That is coupled with my personality. I have to tell people what I’m thinking right then and there because I have a horrible memory. If I don’t say it then it’s not going to get said and then it festers within me because I haven’t expressed myself.

It has ended up making some people not so happy because technology has only fueled this fire. I’ll post something on my FB or text something and then it gets misconstrued and I’m in deep water trying desperately to tread in my explanations.

It feels like I need to work hard for acceptance. It’s hard because at times I don’t feel like I’m myself. I love to be goofy. I love being a Nerdfighter, even though all of my friends have no idea what that means, even though I try to explain. They don’t care.

But are they not caring because they don’t care what I have to say, or do they really not care about what it means to be a Nerdfighter?

Am I missing something that makes me a typically functioning human being? I’m I meant to only have a very limited amount of personal friends and the rest I come to associate with because of their connections?

It’s a fear that is almost paralyzing at times. I have a wedding coming up and I vocalized last night that I was afraid that it was going to be this huge hassle and it wasn’t going to matter no matter how hard I work at it. My graduation party only had twenty people total even though I invited much, much more than that. There was extra food we didn’t know what to do with and I secretly was devastated because no one else came.

Don’t get me wrong I’m and grateful to those who did come but it wasn’t what I had in mind. I’m afraid my wedding is going to go the same exact way. I’ll invite 200 plus people and only have a sparse few come.

I just want to crawl up with a book that will not insult my feelings in anyway. I want to be away from the general public because I feel that I am simply a hindrance to the whole lot of it. Besides it only ends up hurting anyway, right? I feel like I’m drowning in a set of rules that I never got to read and I’m barely making it by because sometimes I do find the shallow end. But I always get pushed back to the deep end to struggle against the current.

I just wanted to post as a side note that I had difficulty writing this and advertising publically that i was up like I normally do because I don't like superficial attention. It only makes it worse right? I want everyone to be happy and if they;re cumforting me then i'm making them sad. Yes, irrational I get it.

What is really going on?

OMG! So tired!

I, Heather, spent the great majority of Monday evening in the hospital. I’m better now (in comparison) still can’t eat solid-like foods but I’m getting there. Applesauce is my friend.

So, I was catching up on the new sarcaschicks videos. This week’s topic is Occupy Wall Street. Bryarly’s  video (her page) had a response about how it was amazing that Americans don’t have public healthcare and I thought it would be a good topic for today.

As my friends and family know I have been trying desperately to save my pennies so I can actually get married in May. Well, just as soon as I got to the point that I could pay the first payment on my venue, I became ill. And I mean as ill as you could get without knowing why or where it came from. (I will spare you the details.)

Long story short, I went through a 1 liter saline IV in about 45 minutes (I normally have 3 liters of water in a day) while I was there along with a syringe of anti-nausea medication that I ironically got in pill form later.

Total cost for this lovely evening? $265.

Yes, I know that it could have been worse and I know there are people out there without insurance and in a worse off state than I have ever been in. In fact my future sister-in-law is in that kind of situation right now.

My monthly payment to my health insurance since I got my current position has not been horrible. Heck, I used to pay $330 a month only three years ago before I moved to my previous health insurance that would charge me for every single thing that I had done including doctor’s appointments that I had already paid copay for. In other words TG for my job now. J

This overabundance of healthcare spending caused me to slack off in going to the doctor for an illness that I FINALLY found out could have potentially killed me if I had kept on the same path I was.

I am not the only one.

Thousands of people every day are in in the same boat. “Do I go to the doctor or pay my rent?” “Do I take care of my health or feed my children today?”

The Japanese have seen a tremendous rise in overall health in their country simply because they have public healthcare. No one is afraid of going because of the bills.

However, there is a consensus that the people who are contributing to society in ways of having a job should not have to pay for those who don’t. What is welfare? Should that hamster wheel continue then?

What do you think? (Comment below)

If we would focus more on overall health of our citizens maybe the overall health of our economy would improve. And maybe we would be able to think a little better in the decisions we as a country need to make. (I certainly could not think straight yesterday because I was, and still am, exhausted and worried if my fiancé and I would be able to have the simple wedding we want.)

Witnesses (Part 5)

When I woke, I thought there was an earthquake. Panic exuded from my core to every inch of my body as the walls vibrated around us. Jean was gripping my arm tightly but I didn’t notice the lack of circulation.

My eyes scanned the dark room for something that would harm us in the quake. In the corner opposite us were Midian and Milas as calm as the last time I had seen them. They were huddled like my wife and I but they were passively staring expectantly at the center of the floor.

“Can you do anything?” I whispered at them.

Milas shook his head, pointing at the spot his eyes were still fixed to. Not wanting to believe that the answer was in an obviously otherwise empty room I looked to where his finger indicated.

Just when I was about to ask what was going on, a crack started in the center where Milas had pointed. It grew until there was a small gorge separating us from them.

A male auburn head popped up from the gorge and surveyed the damage. “Eh, not what I wanted but I can work on it.” It was distinctly a British accent. He spotted Midian and Milas who had stood like they were receiving a friend who had walked into a room normally. Jean and I kept exchanging gawking glances as we tried to make sure we were seeing what we thought we were seeing.

His clothes were unsoiled. I knew they were exchanging thoughts silently as they quickly shook hands.

Then another head, female this time, emerged. Brushing dirt from her arms and legs, she made her way to our side of the cell. Her golden locks were still glimmering in the dim light and despite the earth that littered them. Smudges on her face made her look like a coal miner. “Hi,” she whispered with a warm American accent when she knew we could hear her, “I’m Fiona. That’s Nathanial. We’re going to get you out of here.”

“H-” I started to ask but she held up her hand.

“Certainly Milas told you enough for you to believe that we will get you out of here alive. Get in the hole and start walking we will be down in a moment.”

Jean quickly obeyed but I couldn’t help but hesitate. “But,” again, she cut me off.

“We’ll take care of everything.”

“We will have to leave Midian and Milas,” Nathaniel said forlornly. “There’s no way you’ll be able to wipe that out of their minds. Just take care of these two and we’ll get out of the way.” A tear fell from the corner of his eye as he formed the phrases. His voice barely shook, almost inaudibly.

Fiona leapt the span of the gorge without any effort. I would have ended up with a broken leg in the middle. She grabbed Midian’s hand. Every few milliseconds she shook her head as they looked into each other’s eyes more tears formed silently. But the end of their exchange Fiona had her wrapped tightly in her arms. She let her go and nodded in understanding.

Nathaniel, just as gracefully as Fiona, crossed the crevasse and motioned me to follow my wife into the hole. I obeyed and could not take my eyes off of Milas who was then hugging Fiona.

The twins sat back on the floor to wait for us to leave. Fiona however stood perfectly still beside them, a goddess statue in such a bleak place. Her eyes were closed. Then without much signal, her eyes popped open and she jumped in right beside me. “We don’t have much time. There’s going to be a guard coming down the hall here in a few seconds. If we’re not gone it won’t stick.” She pushed me forward, urging me to run. “Stop worrying, they don’t know you exist anymore. Just get far enough down. Nathaniel will need some room.”

As we ran, Jean’s laden breath flowing back to my ears, the vibration started again and the dull light was suddenly no longer guiding us. I wanted to stop in the blackness, but Jean kept pushing me forward. I didn’t know the difference between the walls or the floor.

Nathaniel’s voice called with a strain from where we had just come, “Oh, give them some light, Fi.”

A brilliant, blinding orb floated above my head and took off down the tunnel. Jean’s head lifted to focus on it. She tripped on a stone that rose against the smooth tunnel and fell flat on her face. I stopped to help her up so we could continue our sprint down the who-knows-how-long path. But when I looked back to see how close Fiona was to my heels I noticed she was a few yards down looking back for Nathaniel whom I could not locate. She looked back to Jean and me. Tears were streaming down her face faster than I had thought possible before that moment.

“They are going to die. They’re going to die because you could not help but be curious. You couldn’t just think what you saw was a trick of the desert, a bird, something that was not worth your time.”

Pain split through my head. Through my squinting against it I saw Jean was also holding her head.

“FIONA!” A thunderous roar made the pain stop. “What would they think if you killed them?” He had come up behind her. His voice had all the authority of a superior. Her eyes were still glazed with tears and rage. I don’t know where I was thinking we could go but I started scooting backward from her. Jean followed suit. “Let’s just get them home and away from this whole mess. Nadine’s not doing well with it as it is.”

The rest of the walk was silent. Fiona took the front. I was glad for this. At least I had my eye on her. We reached a dead end and Nathaniel raised his hand and opened the ceiling to reveal a star lit night. Out in the cool desert night Fiona disappeared with a nod toward Nathaniel.

“When you get home, don’t talk about this to anyone or what Fiona did will break and those people will come after you. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but I thank you in advance for your silence about us. We’re a complicated people. What we can do, human’s aren’t meant to see. Hopefully at some point, but not now.

“You’ll have to forgive Fiona. There are only so many of us and we just lost two to an admittedly stupid cause.” He paused to take a very deep breath. “Now, what I’m about to do will not make any sense but like I said just keep silent about it. You’ll be safe now. And, no, I could not have done it sooner, it takes too much energy.”

A wind picked up. It was warm and comforting. Swirls of blues and purples mixed with deep greens around us. Then in a simple blink we were standing in our kitchen.

Jean and I looked at one another. We didn’t speak. How could we? What just happened seemed like a very bad dream. Questions riddled my mind. I know they did in hers, but when she fell silent throughout our lives I know exactly what she was thinking about. That was the only proof I needed that that night actually happened.

Happy Friday, everyone! Well this is a long one but it’s the last one. YAY! Well, for me cause I'm done writing it, but let me know what you think in the comments. I can't read minds. :) Follow me if you enjoy my writing.

If you haven't started reading and you want to know where the heck these people are, you can find the beginning here, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

Witnesses (Part 4)

I have to appologise for the last part. I must have been in a rush to get it off. (Not a very good excuse, I know.) I fixed the typos and you can view it here for the beginning you can start reading that here. Let me know what you think in the comments and Follow me, please. Happy Thursday!

He remembered they wanted to take the longer way. Apparently they were able to transport to anywhere at any time. As soon as I formed the question why they didn’t just leave he already had the answer in my head. They did not want to cause problems with the people who were keeping us captive. If they left then they would be hunted for the rest of their existence and put the others in danger.

Milas expressed how sorry he was for including myself and Jean in this mess and if they could just fix it they would. He affirmed what Jean had said about their friends coming.

Getting bored along the way, he and his sister wanted to blow off some steam. He had suggested a cavern near the road. They hadn’t realized they were jumping as high as they were. Again, he apologized. They had thought they were completely concealed. He had not meant anything by it. It was all fun and games, and we were getting hurt because of it.

They had been pulled over at a traffic stop only hours ago and brought in because of the description I had given. It was then that I noticed the bandages around the crook of their elbows. There was no way they would be able to escape even if their friends did come.

Just then as I expressed this worry he imagined that his friends, an auburn haired man and a silver haired woman, were going to come recue my wife and me only.

I broke the grasp he had on my hand. He let me, that was the only explanation. I had seen how powerful they all were. We were going to get out of this mess. I could care less that they were going to have to stay. They were the reason we were in here in the first place.

Pushing myself back to the wall on our side of the cell, I wrapped my arms around my legs. Jean wrapped hers around my shoulders.

We just have to survive until they get here, that’s all. Then it will be all over. I’ll be back at my nice house with my beautify car in the garage. Even having my talkative wife knitting in the chair in the corner of the sitting room babbling her mouth off sounded perfect.

With no way to tell how long I stared off into their corner, I started to nod off. They weren’t doing much anyway, just looking at my wife and me with that same sorrowful face as before. I wished they would stop. Finally I gave in to sleep, not knowing what I’d wake up to next.

Heather's Strange Dream

HI! Heather here. JoBeth is working on the next part of her story. In the meantime she's asked me to keep you all company. I had a dream the other night. Actually it was a whole weekend of vivid dreams but that’s another story.

I was witnessing Darth Vader being taught by Han Solo how to drive a stick in a mall parking lot. He was driving a green jeep.

Later in the dream he had to drive this thing away from something that was attacking them in the same parking lot. He also had a device that could change the color of his suit. It changed to deep, dark purple (Not too different from the black he wears anyway, as he’s driving and swerving around this parking lot. However his helmet remained black. When I asked why, being transported into the back of the Jeep, he simply said “Oh, it didn’t work?” And took it off to reveal a purple helmet underneath.

Interpretations?

Or is it the fact that, sometimes, a dream is just a dream?

Witnesses (Part 3)

I continued writing and writing this section so I split it up. Sorry if it seems too short. if you haven't read the first one please do here and please follow me if you enjoy reading my work. Happy Wednesday!

It was much darker this time. My eyes were thankful for the difference. Someone was stroking my hair. My head was not hurting. I wasn’t even hung-over from the last bout of drugs they had pumped into me. It was like I had woken from a normal night’s sleep. I looked up to see Jean’s outline staring into a corner. When she felt me move she positioned herself to give me a hasty hug.

“Are you okay?” she asked in a gentle whisper. I could tell there were undertones of panic but she was also trying to keep even more quite than she had before the café.

“Yes,” I answered as quietly as I could. “How long was I out?”

“I think they brought you in a few hours ago. It’s so hard to tell in here.”

“Where are we?”

She only looked back to the corner. As I followed her gaze I noticed the walls were the same cement bricks as the room I was just in, only they were left unpainted. The door was solid metal. I imagined it was the same structure as the one that made the agonizing popping and squealing. Bars covered its tiny window toward the top and a thin long mail slot-like flap was at the bottom.

I continued to follow my wife’s sight line to the darkest part of the room. A body stirred from the shadows into the light. His hair was the first thing I recognized, then the nose. It was his eyes that threw me off.

They were so somber in their pure sapphire. It increased his apparent feeling of dread or remorse or regret. I could not tell which. Simply put, he was sad.

“You,” I began in a louder voice before a hand slapped over my mouth. I looked back to my wife. She had her first finger over her mouth shushing me.

“They’re listening,” she half mouthed. “Milas wants to get us out of here. He thinks he has some people heading our way. We just have to be patient.”

I looked back at who I suspected was Milas. The female was just behind him, I could see. She had tears pooling at the edge of her eyes. He nodded and extended his hand for me to shake. Although my hand was lying on my side, nowhere near where he would have grabbed for it I placed it behind me and inched myself and Jean back toward the wall on our side.

“Willie, please,” she whispered faintly in my ear, “just take his hand. They’re no harm to us or anyone.”

“You’re the one who thought they were secret weapons. You weren’t the one who was tortured to identify them. If I’m being tortured there’s got to be a reason and the reason has to be that they are dangerous.”

I felt a droplet hit my cheek. “Please, they’re in as much trouble as we are and it’s my fault.” Her voice shook only a little as she continued to exclude the invisible listener.

I looked back at Milas who was shaking his head and patting his chest. Then his extended his hand again. I inhaled deeply, praying that what I was about to do was not a mistake.

Our palms met. It was like viewing one of my own memories but they were not my own. They told of a very long trip after escaping a plague, of splitting from others just like them only a few years ago. He and his sister, Midian, were on their way to visit some friends up north. Both were mute, which explained excessive lack of speaking.

Witnesses (Part 2)

Happy Friday! This is the second in a series I'm writing so if you haven't read the first one please do here and please follow me if you enjoy reading my work.

The next thing I knew I was looking at a blank white wall. My head was pounding but when I went to lift my hand to hold it I couldn’t. Immediately I was concerned for the use of my limbs I could feel them moving but they only struggled against what felt like metal. Even my head was pinned by this immobilizing material.

Panic coursed through my entire body but I just breathed deeply though my nose as my eyes darted around the room for some semblance of an answer to all the questions spinning my head faster than the drugged hangover was.

I never noticed the pounding in my ears until the screeching whine of a metallic door popping off of its frame as it opened entered them. It was like a thousand cats screaming at once along with my heart trapped in my head. I closed my eyes to get my bearing back while the mysterious person shut it.

“Mr. Forsythe, I hope you’re comfortable.”

I opened my eyes to the gleaming teeth of a suited man. His glasses reflected the only light behind me and pierced through to the pounding, only making my head worse.

“Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully at my slight flinch, “that will wear off in a little bit. But I could make it worse for you. Do you have an answer for me?”

“And what would that answer go with?” I was surprised at the faintness of my speech. The air scratched against the chords on its way through, like I hadn’t used them in a long time, or used them too much.

His smile broadened as if this was a pleasant conversation among old friends. “What did you see out in the dessert?”

His words ran together and, against the drumming in my temples, it was near impossible to decipher what he actually said. “What?” As soon as the word was out of my mouth a pinching shock ran through my body, almost like tiny needles were pushing into my skin. I heard a scream come from somewhere in the room. I was concerned for whoever was making it. Then I was out of breath and hunching as well as my shackles would allow.

“I’m not going to ask again.” His tone was suddenly disapproving. “What did you see in the desert, exactly?”

“My wife and I were driving from our honeymoon. I don’t remember what all happened.” I shook my head as well as possible to get rid of the haze that surrounded it, desperate to remember the answer to his question so he wouldn’t torture that poor person again.

“Mrs. Forsythe made a phone call at the diner you and she stopped at. What was that about?”

“Jean.” Yes, Jean. What was it she called about? She was so desperate to do it. Was it her mother? No, there was something else. Why else would I be strapped to something in a cold blank room?

“Mrs. Forsythe is just fine. You and she can get along with the rest of your vacation as soon as we’re done here.” He disappeared behind me while he spoke. “And that depends solely on you.”

“I was filling the car while she ran for the phone. Then we sat down to eat.” What happened before that? The fog was lifting slightly.

“What happened before that? William, this is important. For your country, for your wife, you have to remember.” He appeared again, suit jacket gone to reveal suspenders against his white shirt. In his hand was some kind of device. “I don’t want to use this.” The grin on his face said otherwise.

“We were driving. We had gone to, damn where did we go?”

“Corpus Christi.” He answered helpfully.

“Yes, and we were coming back through New Mexico. Desert.” My forehead wrinkled against the strain of trying to remember. “Blank endless miles of desert. I saw something odd. I remember Jean saying she was hungry and didn’t want to stop. She didn’t trust my new car, damn woman.”

“Go on, William, you’re almost there, I can feel it.”

I could too. Dark images were in place of what I really needed to see. My tongue scraped against the roof of my mouth. I was dry and it was like cardboard. I coughed. Thankfully the gentleman placed a paper cup to my lips. The back of my head told me not to drink it but my body was so desperate for refreshment. I gulped down the liquid that tasted like water as fast as he could tip it into my mouth.

Once the cup was away from my lips I felt so much better, my head was clearer and hurt so much less. I thought back to the dark figures in the desert. “These two people, one male and the other female, were jumping too high. I saw them from the highway in the distance. At first I thought it was grasshoppers closer to the side of the road but when I focused back on them they were much further away and much bigger.”

I focused back on my interrogator, fueled by his promise of release. “I stopped the car and went as far as I dared to see them. By the time I got there they were done jumping but the cliff I was on was hundreds of feet high. How could they jump that high?

“Then I saw light stream out of their hands. The rocks it hit burst like dynamite was inside. Jean convinced me that she should call someone at the next stop. I didn’t want to stop for a long time but we needed gas and it was close to meal time anyway so we stopped at that café.”

“Do you think you could describe them?”

“I don’t think I could forget them. They looked human but they were doing things that humans shouldn’t be able to do. They both had dark hair. Actually except the different sex they looked almost identical, like twins. I wasn’t too close to them so I couldn’t decipher their exact features but I would be able to pick them out on the street.”

 “Thank you, William, we will be in touch soon.” A soothing sensation crept up my arm and I became drowsy. I fought against it. I wanted to stay awake. Who knows what other nightmare I might wake to the next time?

Witnesses

Happy Tuesday everyone! This is the first in a series of short work connected to my books but from another perspective. Enjoy.

“Will! Come on!” The whispered urgency came from behind me.

“But what are they?”

“I don’t know but I don’t want to stick around to find out.”

I started back to Jean but I could not take my eye off of whatever it was I was looking at. What it looked like was two people, younger than myself, target practicing but they didn’t have guns. They didn’t even have rocks. Light was shooting out of their hands. How is that possible?

“Will! PLEASE!” She was becoming impatient and trying to keep her voice down. I couldn’t blame her. Whoever these people, if I could call them people, were I certainly did not want them coming after me. But at the same time I wanted to know more about them.

Finally I turned back to the car, my first car. It already was my pride and joy. 1947 Ford Coupe. It was miraculous at all that we got to buy it only 2 years after production started again. That damn war made it hard on everyone.

We were back in the car before Jean voiced her inevitable opinion again. “We need to tell someone.”

“Tell who? And what are we going to say? There’s people out on the desert shooting things with nothing? I like my life thank you.”

“We could make and anonymous call. The next place we stop we call the police or someone else.”

“No. They looked like they were just out to have fun. I didn’t pick up on anything that would make them want to harm anyone.”

“What it their idea of fun is bigger than that? What if they were just practicing? Maybe they’re the answer to America winning. They could be some kind of experiment cooked up by the Germans or the Japanese!” She covered her mouth dramatically. I hated when she got like this.

I sighed. I was usually really good at pinning people down but I could not ignore her logic. “One phone call at the next place we stop at, that’s it. After that I don’t want to hear any more of it.”

I heard the air she had been holding in expel from her lungs. “Thank you, Willie. It will be anonymous, I swear.” She jabbered on while I drove across the endless plain. As she came across different questions I commented on them and as promised they were nothing to do with what we had just seen. I felt the sweat drip down the side of my face. It was late June in New Mexico and as promised it was sweltering. I just wanted to get home where the heat was not excruciating.

Traveling to our honeymoon was much easier than the drive back. I didn’t realize how shy she was until it was no longer silent. It was as if that barrier was broken she couldn’t stop theorizing or talking about anything and everything we saw. I enjoyed it at first but now it was getting old and we were barely one fourth of the way home. At least when we were there I had work to distract me. Maybe we could have some children as soon as we could so she would have someone else to talk to.

An hour went by and the gas gauge was asking to point upward again so I pulled into a fill station and diner. Jean ran straight for the payphone on the side of the building while I pumped. I could not help but think back to those two people an hour back.

They had looked so similar. The girl looked like she was laughing at her counterpart. They looked like a normal pair of siblings just having fun out in the middle of nowhere. I wasn’t supposed to spot them. They wanted to stay secret. If they had sinister intentioned they would have just attacked this small little town.

I snapped my neck to where Jean had gone. The payphone was unoccupied. My eyes darted around or locate her but I could not see where she could have gone unless she was already in the diner.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

I shook my head to clear the thoughts and looked in the direction of the voice. A man about my age was across from me mirroring my actions only his face showed concern. “Yes, thank you. I just thought I lost track of my wife.”

“Newlywed?”

“Yes, why?”

“Give it a few years. You won’t mind when she wonders off.” He switched hands on the pump and held out his right for me to shake. “The name’s Don.”

I shook his hand with little enthusiasm. The last thing I needed was another chatter box. “Hello, Don, I’m William.” The liquid in my tank made a satisfying high pitched gurgle and I shut off the switch. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Why don’t you and your wife join me and mine for lunch? I’m kind or tired of her conversation. It’d be nice to get some variety.”

I politely held back a deep breath and nodded my head. “I will be in there.” I thumbed behind me and walked to find where Jean was sitting and to tell her we would have company.

“So where you headed?” Don asked once he and his wife, Betty, were settled into the booth across from us.

“Back home to Seattle,” Jean gladly answered.

“Long way away,” Betty commented.

“Yeah we’re just heading to Colorado.”

“I hear that place is just fantastic.”

“Yes. Wide open spaces and plenty of land to work with. There’s gold in them thar plains.”

Betty and Jean giggled over Don’s joke. I was concentrating on my burger. I wanted to get back on the road as soon as we could. The sooner we were away from those creatures the less I would have to worry about them and the sooner I would be rid of Don’s over friendliness.

The bell over the door announced someone’s entrance. It wasn’t odd, people were coming in and out frequently but I looked up anyway. A policeman walked in and removed his cap. I don’t know why it made me nervous. Jean had made the call anonymously, at least that’s what I still hoped. Certainly her naivety did not run away with itself with this kind of situation.

He walked to the counter and asked the tender something. The paper hatted man nodded and answered. Immediately the cop stood, thanked him and walked out.

“That was weird. You would think the police would know their way around here,” Betty said. The rest of the table was also looking out the window where the cop was speaking to another person in a dark car. He turned back around and headed back into the diner.

I could not control my eyes from growing. I feared for myself, my new car, my big house, and, no matter how much she annoyed me on this last half of our trip, my wife.

Before the cop could open the door again I leaned over to Jean. “You made that call anonymously, right?”

“Of course I did. Why?”

Before I could answer the policeman was standing at the edge of our table. “Sorry to disturb your meal folks, but I have some questions for you. Would you all mind coming with me?”

“What is this about officer?” Don stood and helped his wife out of the booth.

“Just come with me, please. I assure you it is nothing of consequence.”

Jean slid out of the booth in front of me and looked back with furrowed brows. We followed the uniform through the door with stares boring into the back of our heads. He lead us over to the black car and four men jumped out from behind it and slammed Don and I against it. The ladies were being drug toward a jeep, screaming.