I'd wake up in sheets that were woven in 14K gold, to a three course breakfast and speaking a language that I only dreamed of. I'd request the jet that I'd reserved the night before and head off to my morning coffee in Colombia. I'm hoping I was privvy to the no limit thing-or this wake up would be dreadful. Wink :)

I want to go to work. I really do. I know that’s what she wants and it’s what I want. In my gut, I know I want that too. I really do. I want that. I can make it work. I can. I know I can. I can make that work. I want to make it work. I want to make it work because I know I can. I love her so much. I love everything about her. She talks to me like no one else does. I really love her. I like her. I love her. A Lot. God, I love her. I feel like everything smells like her. Sometimes when I look at things, I think about her. Is that weird? I don’t think it is. I mean, it’s meant to be. I exhaust myself sometimes, but I love her so much. I must protect her. I’ll follow her, make sure she’s okay. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. She’s perfect. The way the wind blows that one strand of hair she has that lays so perfectly from her right shoulder is unreal. I breathe her. She is me. I’ll do anything to keep her safe.

The house was quiet. A few more hours and the kids would be up. I pushed myself further into the green velvet couch my husband and I picked together. It was comfortable. Fluffy, yet stiff. The fabric was exhilarating against my fingers. We bought this couch three years after trying to conceive with no luck. We hadn't given up, but when the couch arrived we were definitely more consumed with it. We'd had sex on it for five nights in a row. A few weeks later, the nausea I had was so intense I decided to take a pregnancy test. Positive. The only thing that helped my nausea was peppermint tea. My life was filled with peppermint tea.

The fireplace flickered in my eyes and I pushed my back deeper into the couch. We had three children now. Only God knows why kids two and three came so quickly. My husband and I agreed that was it. Three and done. Five of us on this planet was enough. My chest rattle and an unintentional breath escaped me as I took a big swig of warm peppermint tea.

My wife and two children stared silently at the television, submerged in the latest news story splayed across the screen. The volume had increased at least three or four times since the story began. I was amazed at their laser focus and amusement with the topic.

Hello, folks. If you’re just tuning in with us, the police have found the body of a long-time drug lord and known tormentor, Marco Nicks.

“Can you believe it?” She shouted back to us wide-eyed with a mouth full. My wife remained silent, aggressively chewing her overcooked sirloin steak. I appreciated that she cooked for us every night. It’s just that the food wasn’t good. Since she’d seemed so lost in the moment, I took the lead and shrugged at our daughter’s comment.

The city has begun to shiver with the number of bodies that continue to pile up with no known leads.

Rolling my eyes at the comment, I wondered what the big deal was. All the bodies were of terrible people entangled in corruption, murder, and drugs. If anything, the city should be pleased. A small sigh seeped through my lips as I jammed more overly salted mashed potatoes into my mouth. Any fast-food restaurant would’ve been a better choice than this. “You like it?” I looked up to see m wife’s desperation. “Delicious,” I said, “may be the best meal yet.” I was, of course, lying, but I’ve gotten very good at it. The girls turned away from the television and agreed with me. I knew they were also excellent liars. They took after me.

The news switched to pictures of local pets, and the girls collected our dinner plates. The wafting smell of dawn dish soap started to seep into the living room. “Remember, I need to go in tonight for a supply order,” I said, nudging my wife as I stood. “I remember,” she said with a confident smile, “you leaving soon?”

I glanced at my watch, noticing a tiny red smear on the left side of the face. Without acknowledging it, I wiped it hard against my leg. I’d planned to leave two hours later but seeing red inspired me to head out immediately. My body grew angst. ’You know,” I said, “I’d better head out now. Then maybe I can get back sooner.”

“Good plan,” she said, kissing my cheek, “see you in the morning, my love.” I left her side and headed to the kitchen, hugging the girls goodbye.

The car rumbled as the engine started, igniting a rushing burn through my core. I knew that soon the police would find another trash body cast into the street by my hands, and we’d watch another lovely news story tomorrow night. Suppose they see it that fast. They’ve gotten slower, or perhaps I’ve gotten better. One day I’d tell my ladies the truth, but I’ll keep my little secret to myself for now. My grin widened as I exited the driveway.

The color purple is really something unique. It beamed in this new painting. I tilted it slightly, straightening it on the wall. I'd wanted this particular one for months. I couldn't believe he'd actually gotten for me. Leaning into the canvas, I huffed a deep breath in. The wafting smell of acrylic was still there. Boy, it was a beauty. Dark lines and fine details. It had to be my favorite piece. I continued to stare at it in awe.

The door rattled, interrupting my moment. Rolling my eyes into the back of my head and sighing loudly, I headed to the tiny peephole to see who dared to interrupt me. To my surprise, a young woman around my age stood there in a frustrated stance holding her hands on her hips. I paused to take her in. Blonde barrel curls fell below her shoulders, and her jeans sat high on her hips, synching her waist. I narrowed my eyes. Who was she? She lifted her hand and pounded on the door again, startling me. Intrigued, I cracked the door, "Can I help you?" I said sternly.

Without notice, she heaved the door into me, "Are you, Nikki?" She screamed, storming past me, but stopping in front of the painting.

"What?" I said, confused.

She laughed, "You know, that was supposed to be mine!" I looked to see her pointing at my new gift, my painting. Stunned, I had no words. I was unsure of what to do, hoping she'd just leave. She rushed towards me, backing me into the wall.

CRACK

My head ached, and I was slightly dizzy as I came to. She was gone, along with my painting. The door was also still wide open. Slowly, I gathered my bearings and caught my reflection in the mirror above my sofa table. My right eye and cheek glistened a bright red, turning the whole side of my face deep purple. I winced, rubbing the wound. The color purple is really something unique.

I'd been waiting for months, and it had finally arrived. My mother called me to the kitchen, pointing out the dust-covered window. Unable to control myself, I sprinted to it. I peeked back at the window, noticing she was more annoyed than ever with my excitement. She was so simple-minded at times.

I couldn't believe it had arrived. I'd saved every penny for it. My mind rumbled at sight. It shined bright, clean, and new. A hot, crispy metal stench singed the hairs in my nose as I pushed against it breathing in. A small sigh escaped my chest as I leaned in tighter, wrapping my arms around the belly of my brand-new galvanized tub.

"What's that?"

Irritated that one dared to interrupt my moment, "none of your business," I shouted, not turning around.

"Mom said you have to share."

Rolling my eyes in total disgust, I yanked my body away from the base and stared at him. Then paused. He wasn't too tall yet. He'd fit quite well in the tub. He blinked back at me like an imbecile. His blonde hair caused slight nausea in my gut. My brown hair was considered "distasteful" to our mother, whatever that meant.

"Fine," I said, grabbing his arm and yanking, "get in."

"In there?" He whispered, pulling back.

My body burned as I squeezed my fists, but I was committed to this plan now and needed to stay calm. I wanted him to do as I wished. "Yes," I squeezed through my tightly gripped teeth, "in there," I said, loosening my grip.

I watched as he climbed over the side and plopped square in the middle. I often wonder if my mother cheated. "Stay there," I said, holding up both hands as I backed away. He nodded in agreeance, and I moved quickly, worried he'd change his mind. My legs wobbled, unwilling to proceed with the surge of passion.

This might work. Oh, boy, what if it did? I could be famous or, even better, rich at fifteen. I was at the back of the house, grabbing the first bag. It was unbearably heavy, but it wouldn't stop me. Heaving it over my shoulder, I went as quickly as I could. Bag one. Bag two. Bag three. All slammed as delicate as I could against the tub.

"What are those?"

I could feel my body burn as I started to twitch, "just wait and see, will you," I said sternly.

"I'm getting out. Mom!" He shouted.

"No, no, no, I was kidding. Come on. You're my science guy, right?" I nodded at him, "helping with my projects, right?"

He smiled widely, nodding back in agreement. Idiot. I sliced the first bag open with the pocket knife from my belt. There's something whimsical about a bag of sand. It's unexplainable. The puff of powder, the huff of dust, and the glimpse of sparkle make me stiff. I yank the bag from the base and begin dumping it in the tub, circling as it spills.

"Cool," he beamed at me as it began to cover his tiny legs. Ignoring him, I continued emptying bag two and bag three. Bag three was unique. It had the new mix I'd found along the road: a little dirt, some fine grey pebbles, and more sand.

I stood back, placing my hands at my waist. This was going to be good. An everlasting mud. He smiled at me. He was now covered up to his waist, hands-free mucking around in the gravel. "Enough," I shouted, "you're moving it around too much. Let it settle."

He straightened, losing his smile. "Patience," I yelled loudly as a magician would, imagining an audience, but it was only him staring blankly back, confused. I sighed. "Water," I said, appalled, "just don't move, okay?" He nodded eagerly.

I felt giddy again when I grabbed the bucket close by and jogged to the small stream behind our house. Oh, boy, what if it works? One bucket, two, and three buckets, four, five, six, seven, and eight. I wiped the sweat from my forehead. "It feels heavy," he said. I could barely contain the forced smile I had been stretching on my face to keep him entertained. "That's the point," I said, reaching for the large stick I had from another project nearby, beginning to stir. I watched as the muck got darker and darker as it combined.

"This is boring. I'm ready to get out."

"No," I shouted, holding up my hand. "Come on, buddy," I said calmly, "just a few more minutes, then I'll do whatever you want. Okay?"

"Whatever?"

I nodded. Moron. A breath escaped me. It was happening. The dark was beginning to change, becoming lighter and more complex.

"Hey, I can't swing my feet anymore in here. I want to get out."

I didn't answer. I didn't care. It was working. We could get him out later. He'll live. It was hardening. It was permanent. I think. I pumped a fist into the air. "Woohoo," I shouted.

"Moommmmmm," he let out a shrill. I shook my head. This kid has no patience. I thought as I crossed my arms.

Pain suddenly surged through my shoulder. I immediately knew it was my mother's razor-sharp fingernails digging into my bone. I've never understood how she managed to keep them so pointed.

"What have you done?" She seethed.

Feeling the warm breeze and the vibrant humming of the tiny animals around her filled her with pure bliss. The pond was surrounded by a dark green wonder, leaving most feeling at peace. Sitting on the edge, she'd tip her bare toes into the water to feel its anonymous gifts. She'd been coming to the pond since infancy. It was her mother and father's favorite reprieve. Times have changed, though, with her father lost to war and her recent proposal dictating a swift move away from her home. A quite far moved, so far that the pond would no longer exist to her.

In frustration, the young girl picked up a stone, chucking it harshly into the crystal blue water, creating a significant disturbance. Huffing a forced sigh, she crossed her arms as a toddler would, questioning her mother's demand for a wedding and how she could ever leave this pond so effortlessly. She didn't feel twenty. Her mother had insisted the final visit to the pond would've been yesterday, but there was no way she'd give up the fragrant energy of this place on her birthday, especially knowing her next birthday would be very different.

She scooted further to the edge, sliding her feet deeper into the water, as she daydreamed of her new life that would start tomorrow shortly after walking down that aisle. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of piney pond air and smiled.

"Hi there," she heard loudly from behind her. She squeezed her eyes tighter, hoping it wasn't one of her soon-to-be husband's guardsmen coming to collect her. Gritting her teeth into a smile, she turned to see a young man around her age. His immediate beauty had stolen her words. Silently she watched as his blonde hair caught the breeze and his shirt clasped against his chiseled bust. She felt a curiosity in his dark green eyes. His smirk widened as he reached his hand to her, "Xenopus," he said, waiting on her acknowledgment.

Shaking to life, she muttered, "what?"

"My name," he said, "Xenopus. Are you from around here? I haven't noticed you before."

Smitten, she rambled, "oh yes, I've been coming here since a small child, but I'll be moving soon. Today is my twentieth birthday. Oh," she said, reaching for his hand, "sorry, nice to meet you Zeen-OH-pus," she sounded out.

He beamed, "that's right. Twenty, huh? That's quite a special year around here."

"Really?" She chirped. He nodded, "take a walk with me?"

"Of course," she said, popping up to meet his stance, brushing off the bits of grass from the back of her dress. One last adventure, she thought.

They spent the whole afternoon together. They laughed and frolicked throughout the surrounding forest. He had a way with the plants and animals that fascinated her. Every time his fingers touched her, she felt magic. They ended back at the pond edge, sitting between a set of sizeable purple fern flowers she hadn't noticed before. The smell was intoxicating. She held his hands as he stared deeply into her soul.

"I don't want to go," she whispered, "but I must." She lowered her head and began to stand, knowing that her mother would be furious if she arrived home after dusk.

"I understand," he said, gripping her hands, "but could I ask you for something?"

"Anything," she said, attempting to prolong the moment.

"One parting kiss?" He said, leaning in so closely that she felt his warm breath heat her lips. She hesitated, questioning her morality. She was to marry another man tomorrow and was prepared to do that. He was handsome and thoughtful of her, although she did not choose the marriage. She looked at Xenopus. His presence was comfortable, making her feel at ease. She held his hand tightly in her lap and suddenly pushed into him, falling freely to his lips in pure passion.

Swiftly she pulled away with remorse, feeling a weakness in her belly. An ache she'd never felt before. Locking eyes with the beautiful man in front of her sent a raw sting through her spine. She knew she had made a colossal mistake. His pupils altered to an almond shape with a yellow undertone, and a noticeable foul odor permeated the atmosphere. As his grin widened, the black sludge between his teeth became apparent. Her breath felt stolen as a sharp needle pain consumed her body like poison. She knew her existence was obsolete as a gradual burn encased her eyes, and the world around her went black.

The young girl never showed up for her morning nuptials, which led to a month-long search. Many speculated that she had gotten cold feet, but her mother knew better. Racing to the pond the morning of her daughter's disappearance, she noticed the dying purple fern on the water's edge. It had been the same fern she'd seen the day after her sister had gone missing on what happened to be her twentieth birthday. Tears filled her eyes as she stared into the now dark, black water. She was delusional in thinking her daughter would've grown bored of this pond from all the visits and ignored it. Ripping the dead fern from its home, she pleaded, "please, frog prince, return her to me. I'll do whatever you ask!"

When the response was nothing but silence, she knew it was too late, and he had already taken her to the world of misery below the muck.

Four minutes in and I knew I had made a colossal mistake. The air started to thin, and the blackness of this cramped cave seemed to darken. I slowly tried to inch my way out of the slender pathway I initially attempted to squeeze into. My confidence and understanding dwindled as my movements confined me to an even tighter position where I could no longer move my legs or arms. Dead silence surrounded me as my body started to numb from the pressure of the constricting stone walls, and all I could feel were the wet tears coagulating in the rock beneath my cheeks.