Second Chance
A parallel universe to Earth
God created – he wasn’t pleased,
It was misshapen and lumpy
and the people weren’t in his image.
It was so lonely in the pin pricked night
with grating sounds and no purpose.
He decided to create another one
so he could say “it is good!”
The first universe was just practice
so he could improve his skills
It was dark and barren and foreboding
Now that he had honed his artistry,
he scattered humans in perilous midnight
and sprinkled crystal drops of water
rotating them until they covered earth,
cerulean blue, aqua, cobalt and turquoise,
saying, “As I take, I give back!”
He juggled the night with moon and stars,
occasionally dropping the earthen ball,
never giving up, got right back on the horse,
so that twilight metamorphosed into dawn,
bringing rays of sunlight to our world.
He shaped the light so we could witness
his creation as the emboldened dawn took care
of obscurity, leaving footprints on vapor trails.
Bolts of lightning became words to hapless souls.
Time begged to be born and it was so.
God’s fingers molded lumps of soft clay,
blood and bone coalesced to become flesh.
Fluttering souls awakened in deep shadows.
Joy of touch erupted in skin sensations.
God gave words to express feelings of
love and passion as we witnessed mosaics
of all creations cascading in sultry colors.
Inner peace and spiritual whispers flowed
on breezes as a leaf survives the wind on its tip.
Mist arose as intrigue surged through hungry hearts
but it was not enough – he gave us creativity -
so that our life would be laden full of promise.
He gave us touch and ability to express ourselves.
He filled the bowl of our world with fish and birds.
He placed animals – large and small – on our earth.
He shaped the wet pottery of man in his image
carefully molding him to create wonders of being.
Day and night became the never ending circle of life.
When he was through, he held his head in his hands
and praised what he had done, proclaiming with wonder,
“This is much better than the parallel universe I spawned first
“If at first, I didn’t succeed, I tried, tried, tried again!”
AND IT WAS GOOD!
The Code of Ndazula
The humid, sunny summer was hostile, and the man in front of them was unbearable.
It was barely forty-eight hours since the Ndazula National Councilors had crowned the new King, but they already missed the 'good old days'.
King Sondeza was tirelessly talking.
"I will not, by any means, allow the Ndazula nation to be flooded with dirty Western culture. Therefore, if you have Satellite television in your home, tell your respective people to take down the dishes tomorrow and destroy the decoders. I don't have to explain what will happen to you if you think I'm joking."
There was a rumble of disapproving murmurs in the crowd, but no one dared to speak up in protest.
"I realize that my forefathers had abandoned some very important Ndazula customs; they are all back. Starting tomorrow, I will be visiting schools."
The Councilors all stopped murmuring. Maybe the man was going to say the first sensible thing since the meeting started, they each hoped.
"Why schools? Because it's a custom, which my rather ignorant predecessors overlooked, that every year the King should choose a beautiful, reasonably young girl to be his..."
King Sondeza's voice drowned in the angry roars of protest. The Councilors had heard enough. One stood up and headed for the door. In seconds, the Ndazula House of Councilors was empty but for one man, clad in leopard skin and an obviously Western crown, and his security details.
Life or Death Decision
“I won’t make it much longer,” he lamented in a crackling voice. He had been hiking on a mountain trail when he fell about one hundred feet, breaking his fall temporarily by a jutting sapling, ending up on a snowy mountain ledge.
Since it had been three weeks now and no one knew his hiking route, he realized he might never be found. He had already consumed his little store of food and only was able to get liquid from the melting snow.
Water was not a problem but he was a meat eater and realized he must get some protein before he starved. Looking downward at his lower leg, he talked to himself, “There is a lot of good muscle on my leg."
Desperate to survive until he could be found, he made a decision. He hesitated, for a moment, as he took out his knife to do what he knew was necessary in order to save his life.
Thanatos
Treading unbeknownst in every mind, a lurking shadow without figure. Ethereal, fantastical, a character of the mind, his existence is whispered into the crevices of the world. At the dawn, so it is. He remains elusive in the fabrics of fiction.
As the beams of life start to emanate across the horizon, his shadow begins to take form and solidify. His imminent presence brings a cloud of dread. As the first icy breath tickles the back of your neck, he steals the irretrievable, leaving only the black knife that pierces you. It is poisoned, spreading its cold, ruthless venom to every fiber of your being. You see him clearly for the first time; an enemy is born.
You live with the mark of his darkness for some time, before once again you feel the crawl of his fingertips along your spine. The knife drives with familiarity this time, but just as raw, just as agonizing. The animosity turns to ache, capitulation, despair. He is the victor, and you fall slave to his musings, hypnotized by the prospect of finality. He turns you against his opposer, and now a new hatred, a new rivalry forms; he is now your savior from all that is wrong. But he passes by you, leaves you to the pain, the turmoil, as you await his rescue. You beg and plead into the heedless night for the nameless stranger to offer his companionship, to vanish into his domain.
No word, no whisper of his whereabouts. You must move on and let his shadow fade into the distance. For he does not offer comfort. He is distant and cold, fraught with purpose. Let him diminish into the recedes of the universe, you will come to know him in time. When dusk sets in, his figure will loom larger, more vivid, more tangible. No knife, no enmity, an embrace awaits, familiar and welcome, as equals you become with a final breath.
I’ll be Damned.
I'm sorry to tell you this, honey, but please listen close.
It has something to do with where we’ll rest our souls.
A while ago, I sold mine to the Devil.
Not for money or power or love, though he haggled.
I gave it to Lucifer, I gave it for keeps.
I let him have it for a moment of peace.
And that ol’ naughty Satan, do you know what he did?
He snatched my soul; in it's place, a demon now lives.
So, sorry dove, but I won't be with you when you see those pearly gates.
I’ll be ruling in hell, sipping tea with some snakes.
SURGERY @ 9
4th day here..
Doctors learned you can't give me adivan because it leads me to have a funny, but negative reaction. ..
One screaming about how I relate to the #4 smiley face's indifference (on the pain chart) and another; hulking out from the hospital bed trying to locate my mom while running bare-bottomed, I.V bag in hand down the halls, shocking the hell out of some nicely dressed families..
One orderly did say I was still VERY polite yelling "excuse me ma'am" as I darted past her very tiny self who was no match for my 6'1" , drug addled stature.....
So they won't be giving me that again and I'm a bit (very) embarrassed....
Really it comes to me in flashes but i don't have a clear memory of the situation at all!
Zombie Apocalypse
They always wrote stories about this happening, but I never thought it would. I mean, how could I? The idea is absurd! Brain eating beings. Seriously? Yet here I am, hiding for my life.. from brain eating beings. I am not sure I will live for very long. I was barely able to survive a normal life.
These... these monsters are taking everyone I know and love. Just yesterday my younger sister Jessie was roaming around in the woods and those bastards got her. They got Jessie! And now if I have to, I gotta shoot her! Shoot my own sister! And all because I need to protect myself even though I failed to protect her.
I must go immediately. I have no more time to write. It is getting dark and even more of them will gather if I don't get a move on..
Through the Killers’ Eyes
“You spotted her the moment she walked in, didn’t you, Elliot?”
His emerald hues shifted on to his father, who wore an all-knowing smirk across his lips. It was evident he had been referring to the brunette that had just come waltzing through the door of the rest stop by herself. His dad was right. Elliot had noticed her the moment she came in from the pouring rain outside, closing her umbrella as the door swung shut behind her.
There was just something about her that caught his attention almost instantly.
“Funny. Here I thought you only paid attention to blondes,” he quipped in response.
“Just because I prefer them,” he nodded towards a group of young blondes that were seated a few tables down from them, “doesn’t mean I don’t notice them,” his gaze went towards where the girl was waiting in line for food.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered under his breath.
For as long as he could remember, his father preferred the easy ones. The ones that could be lured away with just a few sweet words…along with the fact that their hair color be a shade of blonde. He couldn’t remember a time that his father had picked a brunette out of a crowd and taken her as his victim. It has always been a blonde.
Elliot, on the other hand, could care less about what the hair color was. In the last town they left, he'd taken the life of a redhead and in the town before that, it just so happened to be a blonde.
The only thing Elliot cared about was the thrill of the chase. It had been different in the beginning of all this, he was all for taking the easy route, but it grew boring. Now he preferred to stalk his prey, get to know them, gain their trust, before bringing about their demise.
His father preferred to just go in for the kill and be done with it.
Though he was the one that raised Elliot into this lifestyle, they had differing opinions on how they went about it.
“Are you going over there or are you just going to sit around gawking?”
He was pulled out of his reverie from the sound of his dad’s voice. Elliot's jaw clenched at his words. Sending a scowl in his father's direction, he snatched up his cup, which actually wasn’t even empty yet, and pushed to his feet to make his way over to the soda fountain where she now stood, contemplating her options.
His breath caught at their close proximity. Her back was turned to him and if he were to simply stretch his arm forward, his fingers would be able to touch her silky, mahogany locks. Inhaling deeply, her scent washed over him. Despite it being a downpour outside, Elliot was reminded of a warm, spring day, and reflexively he took a single step closer.
That's when she turned around.
They collided. Both of their cups were uncovered and the contents of both were crushed between their bodies. The liquids within each spilled down the fronts of their shirts, though she somehow managed to get more on her.
She jumped back reflexively, back pressing into the metal counter behind her, and a startled look flashing across her face. Elliot, in turn, stepped back with a dumbfounded expression etched across his features.
“I’m so sorry," he quickly responded, stepping to the side of her to grab some napkins from the dispenser.
“I didn’t even see you there!” She replied, angling her body towards his.
Their gazes met. Her hues were a chocolate brown, but they were the most beautiful shade of which he had ever seen. Elliot knew right then that he'd made the right decision.
She was going to be his next victim.
He couldn’t help the slight twitch of his lips at the thought. At the same moment, her lips lifted into an amused smile, which surprised him in the slightest.
“It was my fault honestly,” he said smoothly, handing the napkins off to her, which she graciously accepted. “You don’t have eyes on the back of your head. You can’t be blamed for not seeing me there.”
“This is sort of the norm for me, really.” She turned her gaze away from him and down towards her wet shirt, which she began to dab at with the napkins. “Klutz is practically my middle name.”
A light chuckle trickled through his lips as he took up a couple napkins of his own and began to dry up his own shirt. Not that he really cared about it being wet. Presently he was more fixated upon the female before him,
“I’m sure your middle name is much prettier than that.”
Crimson rose in her cheeks immediately and her hands began to slow in their movements. A moment later, her head lifted and their gazes met once more. She crushed the napkins into one of her hands and stuck her other one out towards him. A warm smile lifted the corners of her lips heavenwards and the raven-haired male stuck his free hand into hers.
“I’m Andrea.”
“Elliot,” he responded with a dazzling smile, giving her hand a light shake before letting it go entirely, as much as he desired to hold it longer.
“You know, I’m beginning to think this whole thing was just a ploy to meet me,” she teased lightheartedly, evoking another chuckle from him.
“You caught me,” he held his hands out in front of him. “I planned all of this just to talk to you rather than simply going up to you like a normal person would.”
Normal—a term that would never be used to describe him.
A light laugh trickled through her lips, “Who’s to say I would have talked to you under normal meeting circumstances?”
“Ouch,” he feigned hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Would’ve been your loss.”
“Someone’s awfully confident,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully; Elliot smirked.
“Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting you. I’m just going to try to get this stain out a bit in the bathroom.”
“Well, maybe we can continue this conversation afterwards. I’m sitting at a table back there with my dad…or we could even get a table of our own.”
“I’ll think about it,” she responded before stepping past him and crossing to the corner where the bathrooms were.
He watched as she went. It was only after she disappeared past the door that Elliot finally moved back to the table. His father was waiting expectantly as he plopped back down into his chair.
Sitting forward slightly, he made a gesticulation for him to elaborate on what happened. A faint smile spread across Elliot's lips as he folded his arms atop the table and met his gaze.
“I’m more than sure I have my in with her.”
“I’ll think about it,” her response played over in his head. Something about the way she said it gave him the impression that she had already decided.
As he waited to see if his original guess was right, Elliot gave his father the rundown of what happened. It didn’t take long to get through it and the moment he finished, he caught sight of her exiting the bathroom through the corner of his eye. Being discreet, he watched as she crossed back to the food place, got a new cup and filled it with whatever she originally intended to get.
“Well?” His father raised an inquisitive brow.
“I was right.”
The moment she spotted where they were sitting, she began to close the distance separating them.
Their eyes met. A smile spread across her lips. A smirk spread across his. Across from him, his father wore a smirk mirroring the one on his son's face. Everything was falling into place just as Elliot suspected it would.
“Hi,” she waved slightly, standing to the side of their table. “I’m Andrea.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Elliot’s father, Roy.” He wore a charming smile, “Please, take a seat. Elliot here was just telling me about the drink incident.”
“Certainly one way to get a girl’s attention,” she remarked, laughing under her breath.
Across the table, he met his father’s gaze and based on his expression, he knew he'd picked well.
Soon, that was the only word that whispered through his mind as the three of them conversed with each other. This was just the beginning of the end for her and she was completely oblivious to it all.
Little did he know that she had a secret of her own, though...she was a serial killer, too.