zombie myth; second draft.

soundtrack.

Alexander jerked awake. The room was still, dark, and silent. His hand instinctively reached next to him and he brushed against Desdemona's leg. He had been having the most vivid dream. He was standing in his parent's living room. It looked exactly as it had the last time he'd seen it.

"Hello Alexander," a woman's voice murmured.

"Hel..loo..." he responded. He stepped back and tripped over an ottoman. The dream was so real he could feel the texture of it. The lady in green smiled slightly.

"This isn't so much a dream as a... what do you mortals call it? Out of body experience?"

"If that's the case then what is it you want? You've been hanging around in my head for the last week."

"Straight to the point. I like that about you. It's part of the reason I've chosen you."

"Chosen me for what, exactly?"

"You're it. You're the one that can save the world. There's just a few tests you must pass in order for me to fix things."

"Me? Why me? I'm not even a very good person. I have like three unpaid parking tickets in my glove box right now and I used to cheat on my geometry tests. I'm pretty sure I hit a squirrel with my car last week. I think you've got the wrong guy."

The lady in green laughed. "In the grand scheme of things Alexander, those don't matter so much. You, Alexander, are a true warrior. You can choose to make your heart and your mind work together when necessary, not against each other as so many mortals do." She paused and her face took on a melancholy look. "My children have been a disappointment to me the last few hundred years."

"Your children?"

"Don't you realize who I am? I'm the Creator. The Be-All-End-All. Mother Earth. God. Gaea. Whatever name you choose to give me, I am it."

Alexander's eyes widened and his mouth made an O of surprise. "But... you're a chick."

Her eyes blazed and she suddenly seemed to fill the whole room.

"You arrogant child! Why is there this persistent belief that the power of life comes from a man? It is an asinine idea! Who gives birth? Is it a man? No! This is yet another factor into your self destruction! You have lost the true path. In your arrogance you forget the old ways. You have brought this upon yourselves! Year after year, pumping garbage into the air and water. Finding new ways to kill your brothers and sisters daily. Destroying what I have made for you, neglecting to realize and appreciate the true value of life. And like naughty children who break their toys, I am taking them away."

Alexander dropped to his knees unwillingly as the lady in green forced him down before her.

"You will undergo a series of trials Alexander. If you pass I will give you the power to rebuild your world. But if you fail, the destruction will continue. One by one the remaining survivors will die until everyone you have ever loved is gone. Then I will wipe the slate clean and start over."

"This new world will be a fresh start. It is my will that you take from this experience the knowledge that life is precious. There must be balance in all things to maintain harmony with your environment. If you take care of me and give me the respect that is my due, I will in turn take care of you." She drew in a breath and seemed to shrink back to her previous size. "I will continue coming to you in your dreams. Doubt me or disregard my instructions in anyway and it's, what is the phrase? Game over. No more extra lives."

The room began to fade away and Alexander could feel himself on the edge of waking.

"Wait!" he yelled. "When will this happen?"


He knew in his heart something big was coming but he wasn't sure what exactly. He went to the window and looked out into the night. As he turned to go back to bed he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. A woman, a nurse from the look of her clothes, was stumbling down the street. A child was running from her, clutching his arm and screaming at the top of his lungs. Blood dripped off the nurse and the boy.

"This is only the beginning," a voice inside Alexander's head whispered.

Two weeks later found Alexander and Desdemona standing on the roof of a Walmart staring into a mass of over two hundred creeps.

"This is your first task," the lady in green had told him in his dreams the night before.

"You must be willing to sacrifice Desdemona in order for you to rescue the other survivors trapped in the store."

He had wrestled with the idea all night and morning. Alexander had been tempted to bundle her up and push on in the other direction, but a part of him reminded him of the selfishness of that act. Save one person? Or attempt to rescue the entirety of humanity? He gulped and gave his girlfriend a shaky smile.

"On my signal," he whispered. They opened the door to the air duct and crawled into it. The inside of the building was quiet and empty as far as they could tell. They lowered themselves onto the nearest shelf. There was a brief sound of shuffling footsteps and the click of a gun cocking.

Minutes later a young blonde woman was hugging them both and crying at the same time while a tall, exhausted looking man stood quietly off to the side.

"I'm so glad to see somebody else!" she cried. "I'm Danae and this is my brother Daemon."

At that moment the creeps that had been milling around outside finally burst through the windows and doors, interrupting the introductions.

Alexander glanced at the two women and with reluctance and a sinking heart he picked up Danae and started running. He could hear the pounding footsteps of Daemon running behind them.

"Alexander?!" Desdemona screeched as she struggled to keep up. "Alexander where are you going?"  Alexander gripped Danae tighter and never looked back.

Once they had cleared the parking lot and skirted off into the surrounding woods they stopped to catch their breath.

"I knew you'd come," Danae finally said. Alexander was still winded and looked at her quizzically.

"Gaea comes to me in my dreams. She told me a man would come and rescue us. That she had plans for all of us."

"Gaea huh? I just think of her as the lady in green. She's been messing with my head for a month. I'm not so sure how I feel about her."

Danae giggled. "Don't you know Alexander? You're the defender of mankind."

Daemon managed to crack a smile. "She talks to me sometimes too, though not as often as Danae. She mostly repeats herself. 'You are the guardian. Protect them.' "

That night found the trio in the back of an abandoned Volvo station wagon with the doors locked.




Alexander's dreams were always the same. The lady in green came to him in his parent's living room. This time Danae was there with him.

"The second of your tasks," Gaea said, "will be to defeat The Evil One in my name. You will find The Evil One on the far side of the Lake of Morae. Just remember Alexander that you have promised to follow all my instructions without question. If you fail there is no second chance."

The next morning found Alexander, Daemon, and Danae starting the arduous trek hundreds of miles west to the Lake of Morae. Gaea remained uncomfortably silent throughout their journey.

Once they reached the gray beach of the Lake of Morae they discovered an old fishing boat washed up into the rocks. They paddled their way across the cold, choppy water and came upon a large building surrounded by mismatched fence posts and barbed wire. It looked as if it had once been a high school.

Danae grabbed Alexander's hand. "Whatever is in there, you can fight it. I believe in you."

As they scanned the beach for a place to abandon the boat a voice called out, "They're here!" the voice shouted.

Another voice, farther away responded,

"Bring them in! She'll want to see them!"

Daemon gulped and looked at his companions. "I think this is where I come in. Gaea warned me about this place. Alexander, you have to remember your task. Don't let your emotions sway you."

Before Alexander could respond a weight landed in the boat, the attached rope used to drag them ashore.

Two large men swooped in on Daemon and Danae and eyed Alexander warily.

"He's not as big as I thought he'd be," the one on the left said to the other.

"Yeah I know. Well, whatever," he shrugged. "She just asked for him, let's take the other two downstairs until we figure out what she wants."

Alexander walked between the two men up to a door that looked as if it had once been a principal's office.

"In there," the one on the right motioned.

The door swung open and sitting in a chair by the window was a woman holding a baby.

"Hello Alexander." It was Desdemona, her face and arms covered in scars

zombie myth; part I.

Alexander grumbled a list of profanity at his cell phone as it was happily buzzing along the edge of the nightstand, telling him it was time to get up. He reached out of the blankets and grabbed the annoying vibrating box, planning on hitting the snooze button. As his eyes tried to focus he stared at the phone and noticed the green alert light flashing in the corner, along with a smiling box at the top of the screen.

            “Wha’ the fuh’?” he mumbled, opening the text message.

           

Hey baby, had to get to work.
C U 2nite for dinner??

xo~Des~xo

            He had been completely unaware she was even gone. Instinctively he rolled to the side, half expecting to feel lingering warmth on her side of the bed. No such luck.  The lack of snuggling gratification propelled Alexander out of the covers and into the kitchen to make coffee. He zombie shuffled his way to the counter, clicking on the news as he made his way past the T.V.

            “There have been reports of yet another attack in Charlotte, North Carolina,” the reporter was saying. Alexander barely registered it, he wasn’t fully awake till after a substantial caffeine intake. He flipped the switch on the Mr. Coffee and the orange light illuminated. Satisfied that his morning was off to a fairly decent start, he walked back across the living room and towards the shower.

            “And now to our reporter in the field. Karen? Are you there?”

            “Yes Jack, I’m here. It seems that at 8:05 this morning Principal Allen Perkins was attacked by a student outside of Ash Tree middle school. Witnesses say the student appeared intoxicated, stumbling across the parking lot and bumping into cars. Perkins attempted to restrain the student, Ace Cross, a 6^th grader. As he grabbed Cross by the arm the student turned and savagely bit into his arm. Parents standing nearby pulled the student off the principal and he staggered off, but not before biting the hand of one of the two parents. Perkins was rushed to the hospital after suffering massive bleeding. The parent, name unknown, was treated in the nurse’s office and sent home later that morning. As of now, Perkins is in stable condition, but we know nothing of what became of the student."

           The report followed Alexander into the shower, slowly filtering through the early morning haze. 

            "Stupid kids and their bath salts," he mumbled to himself as he climbed out. He screeched as his feet hit the cold tile and he slid forward into the sink. His shin hit the toilet, throwing his balance off and he fell back into the cabinet. His other foot slid backwards, bashing his heel painfully into the paneling under the sink. He flailed his arms, trying to correct himself and his head flew into the mirror, bouncing off the glass and cracking it. He slid to the floor, and leaned against the cabinet. He sat there, cradling his head in his hands for a few moments, trying to figure out what had just happened. 

           Around the time he had finally decided to get up and assess the damage he heard a knock at the door. Using the sink for leverage, he maneuvered his way off the floor and wrapped himself up in a towel. He hobbled across the living room and tore the door open.

          "What?!" he barked at the person standing there.

          "Woah bro, what happened to you?" his best friend Daemon asked as he stood in the doorway. Alexander looked down as three drops of his blood hit the floor. 

          "Uh..." he murmured. Daemon forced his way into the apartment, grabbing Alexander by the arm. 

           "C'mon dude, we need to get you cleaned up and take you to the hospital."

         The hospital was a total madhouse. There were people lining the halls of the emergency room, some injured, some taking care of their loved ones as they waited for the doctors. Daemon and Alexander stopped a few feet past the door. 

          "I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Alexander said as he surveyed the room. "I don't think a minor head gash is going to be anywhere close to the top of their priorities." 

          Daemon nodded his head in agreement. 

         "Sorry for dragging you out here, let's get you back to the house. I think we got it cleaned up enough you should be fine. Nothing some aspirin and a bottle of whiskey won't cure." 

          Alexander smiled weakly at his friend and they turned to leave. Suddenly, a shrill scream cut through the air and they were slammed into the glass doors as everyone ran for the exit. The doors spasmodically opened and closed, the sensor overloading at the unusual patterns of movement. 

         Daemon and Alexander were finally carried through them in a wave of panic and pushed towards the left, away from the main stream of human traffic.

          "What the hell was that?!" Daemon yelled.

          "I don't know, but I'm not about to stand around and wait till somebody decides to inform us. The car's over there, let's get out of here," Alexander replied.

         He gimped towards the far side of the parking lot where Daemon's beat up Jeep Cherokee was parked. Seconds after they locked the doors and heard the rumble of the engine a body slammed into the passenger door.

          "Cripes!" Alexander shouted. It was a mangled nurse, missing the upper half of the left side of her face. Her blue scrubs were soaked with blood and her hands clawed at the window. The duo's eyes rounded and Daemon threw the truck into reverse, quickly backing away from the terrifying figure.Streaks of red ran along the window where her fingers had been.         

         Alexander grabbed his cell phone and frantically started dialing numbers. The first was his girlfriend, Desdemona. He hadn't heard from her since she left for work that morning. She answered on the first ring.

         "Baby are you okay? I'm so glad to hear from you, I've been so worried!" 

         "Yeah, I'm fine. where are you? Do you know what's going on?"

          "According to the news there's been some kind of viral outbreak. No one knows where it came from or how soon it'll be contained, but they're sending us to the military base. Can you meet me there?"

          "I'll do my best to get to you. Just be safe, call me as soon as you get there."

          "Be careful Alex. I love you."

          "I love you too, Des."

         Daemon tapped Alexander on the shoulder, waking him from a restless sleep.

        "It's your turn bro," he said, handing him the shotgun. It was a month after the initial outbreak and the two men had been holed up in the top floor of Alexander's apartment building, struggling to survive. Less than a week after the killings started all contact with the outside world had been cut off. All internet, cell phones, television... everything. Gone. Neither one of them had heard from their girlfriend's since that first horrible day. Alexander stood up and stretched, accepting the gun from his friend. Lately they'd been sleeping in turns. There had been a scare a few days earlier when a few of 'Them' had made their way past the makeshift barricades. The men had cleared all of the apartments on the floor as the minor dilemma reached crisis status. Luckily, all but one had been empty. But there were thousands of 'Them' milling around in the streets, ready to attack anything alive.

          "You okay Alex? You were talking in your sleep again," Daemon asked, the dark circles under his eyes accentuated by concern.

          "I'm fine. I just keeping having these crazy dreams. This woman comes to me, all dressed in green. She keeps whispering things in my ear and as soon as I think I'm about to understand what she's saying, I wake up."

         Daemon rubbed his hand across his forehead, looking up to meet Alexander's eyes. "Maybe it's just the stress. I think we're about to reach critical breaking point, man. We've got maybe a week left before we need to seriously think about moving on. We're almost out of food and ammo. We aren't doing ourselves or anybody else good hiding up here in this apartment. Plus," he paused. "No offense, but man. You're starting to stink. So am I. We need showers and fresh water." Their supply of water was getting dangerously low. The bottled water they'd accumulated from the other apartments were almost completely gone. Both men had commented on the fact that it hadn't rained since before the outbreak started. The only thing in the sky these days was the unrelenting sun and the occasional heat lightening that streaked across the sky at night.

         Alexander managed a smile. "If things don't get better in the next couple days we'll come up with a plan B. Besides, I miss Des. I'm ready to stop hiding and find out what happened to her."

          The next night Alexander slipped into a deep sleep. He found himself standing in his parent's home as it was the last time he'd seen it. Standing in front of him was the mysterious woman in the green dress.
          "Hello Alexander."
          "Hel...loo..." he responded. He stepped back and tripped over an ottoman. The dream was so vivid he could feel the texture of it. The lady in green smiled slightly.
          "This isn't so much a dream as an... what do you mortals call it? Out of body experience?"
          "If that's the case then what is it you want? You've been hanging around in my head for the last week."
          "Straight to the point. I like that about you. It's part of the reason I've chosen you."
          "Chosen me for what, exactly?"
          "You're it. You're the one that can end all of this. There's just a few... tests you must pass in order for me to fix things."
          "Me? Why me? I'm not even a very good person. I have like three unpaid parking tickets in my glove box right now and I cheated on my taxes last year."
         The lady in green laughed. "In the grand scheme of things, those don't matter so much. You, Alexander, are a true warrior. You can choose to make your heart and your mind work together when necessary, not against each other as so many mortals' do." She paused and her face took on a sad, wistful look. "My children have been a disappointment to me in the last few hundred years."
         "Your children?"
          "Don't you realize who I am? I'm the Creator. The be-all-end-all. Mother Earth. God. Gaea. Whatever name you choose to give me, I am it."
          Alexander's eyes widened and his mouth made an O of surprise. "But... you're a chick."
          Her eyes blazed and she suddenly seemed to fill the whole room. "You arrogant child! Why is there this persistent belief that the power of life comes from a man? It is an asinine idea! Who gives birth? Is it a man? No! This is yet another factor into your self destruction! You have brought this upon yourselves! Year after year, pumping garbage into the air and water. Destroying what I have made for you, neglecting to realize the true value of life. And like naughty children who break their toys, I have taken them away."
        Alexander dropped to his knees unwillingly as the lady in green forced him down before her.
        "You will undergo a series of trials, and, if you pass, I will give you the power to rebuild your world. But if you fail, the destruction will continue. One by one the remaining survivors will die until everyone you have ever loved is gone. Then I will wipe the slate clean and start over."
          "This new world will be a fresh start. It is my will that you take from this experience the knowledge that life is precious. There must be balance in all things to maintain harmony with your environment. If you take care of me and give me the respect that is my due, I will in turn take care of you." She drew in a breath and seemed to shrink back into her previous size. "I will continue coming to you in your dreams. Doubt me or disregard my instructions in anyway and it's, what is the phrase? Game over. No more extra lives. Tomorrow, I want you to leave your apartment and start gather the remaining survivors. There is a facility not far from here, take them there."
           "Wake up Alexander, wake up..." he heard as the room began to fade.   

           The next day found the men standing at the top of the fire escape, looking down five stories. There were only a few of the Creeps, as they'd taken to calling the undead, standing around the alley. As far as Alexander could tell, they hadn't been noticed yet.
          "You ready for this?" he asked Daemon.
          "As I'll ever be," his friend replied.
         

        

prince stephan; Her Story.

 Shit's about to get graphic. We're getting to the intense parts of the story that I've put off writing for awhile.




             "My name is Ellie," she murmured to her feet. "I'm a heroin addict."

             She chewed on her lip, still staring at the ground. "I've been gettin' high since I was about 19. I dated a guy who had just gotten out of rehab and was selling oxycotin. We actually argued about it a little bit, I didn't think he should be selling them if he was supposed to be clean. After a couple weeks though, he got me to try it. Gettin' your naggy girlfriend high is a good way to get her shut up, y'know?" She laughed softly.
          "One day our OC dealer stopped answering. He'd been selling his mom's extras, but her script had ran out so we couldn't get anything. I had never experienced anything like that. My whole body hurt, I was hot and cold and thought I was never going to stop feeling like I had to throw up. I didn't understand what was going on until my boyfriend told me about being dope sick. See, I didn't know you got sick when you didn't have it because we always had it y'know? So he called his old dealer and we drove to the city. That was the first time I ever snorted heroin. Holy shit the feeling was... amazing. So much better than the pills. Within seconds I went from feeling sick to feeling awesome. It got bad pretty fast after that. The next almost year we spent together we were high the entire time. At that point, I was still just snorting it. We finally broke up when he decided that he'd been bad for me. He thought that if I didn't have him to get it for me that I wouldn't be able to get any. I thought so too, for a total of maybe three awful days. It's amazing how readily available the shit is."
           "Fast forward to about three years ago. Keep in mind I'd been doing opiates pretty consistently up until then, but I was what I considered to be a "functional addict". If I couldn't find dope I'd do pills, but I of course preferred the real deal. I was still just snorting it and supporting my own habit with my paychecks. Okay so, three-ish years ago is when it reached a new level of shitty. My friend comes to my apartment one day and says, 'I know we said we'd never do it this way... but you have to try it at least once. It's the fucking shit and I really think you're gonna like it.' She then proceeds to pull a rig out of her purse. A rig would be a syringe, for those of you who don't know. It took her all of 15 minutes to convince me. It hurt the first time, but a few seconds later I completely forgot about that. When it hits you it's like a thousand orgasms all over your body, happening all at the same time. I was gone after that. My paychecks stopped supporting my habit. I started conning my family and friends out of money. I sold my DVD player, my stereo, even shit that wasn't mine. I'd go to my friends houses, take their shit, then go pawn it. My friend and I became an expert shoplifting tag team. We'd hit every Walmart in an hour radius and end up with $500 in a couple hours."
          "Still, there were times when the money just wasn't coming in. I put myself in some seriously fucked up situations to score. Our dealer was in the deepest parts of the ghetto and we were out there 3 or 4 times a day. I started driving him around the neighborhood to deal so he'd give me shit. I'd go to the other side of town and pawn shit he'd stolen the night before.
           Now I can honestly say I never sold myself for drugs, it seems even in the midst of my fucked-up-ness I still had some sort of moral code... but that didn't stop me from convincing my friend that it was okay for her to do. There was one night when I knew I had hit the ultimate low. We were in a straight up project. The guy lived in an abandoned building with blankets over all the windows. He stole his power from one of the buildings next door with an extension cord. We sat with only the light of a tiny ass t.v. lighting the room. My friend and I had $50 between the two of us, which was just enough to keep us from getting sick. The guy, who we'd only  met one other time, offered to give us an entire gram if my friend would fuck him. She looked at me and asked me what I thought and... I'm ashamed to say I told her to go for it. I should have told her no, we should have left right then. But I was so worried about getting my high that I didn't give a fuck. I told him he had to pay up first though. So she got her fix and went to the other side of the room and laid down on an old twin mattress. I sat in front of the t.v. and cooked up my shit. The really, really fucked up thing is that I couldn't hit it. So I walked over there and had her shoot me up in the middle of all of it."
          She stared at the floor, tears brimming in her eyes.
          "I'm so ashamed. I've never told anyone that before. A few months later I met the most amazing person. I thought I'd finally found a person to save me. He was probably the only person in the world who has ever actually loved me for me. He let me move in with him right away and we had one of those sickeningly sweet relationships that makes other people jealous. But my addiction got the better of me. I was lying and going behind his back to get high all the time. Eventually, shit hit the fan. A girl I knew overdosed. I was part of the investigation and they raided our house." She paused. "He never really forgave me after that."
          Tears streamed down her face. "I'm sorry, I can't talk anymore." She stumbled around the folding chair, causing it to screech against the tiles and ran for the door.

        

prince stephen; part five.

          Ellie attempted to light her cigarette, the wind was making it difficult. Even with the side of the building as a breaker it managed to whip around the corner and extinguish the flame.
          "Here, let me help," The Boy said. He cupped his hands around her lighter, bringing them close together. Ellie noticed the color of his eyes. They were a light brown, not quite hazel. They had looked dark from far away, but when they got close she noticed that there was light behind them.
          "Thanks," she said, blushing and stepping back abruptly. He was making her feel awkward. Attractive people did that to her. She was painfully aware of how thin her hair was, how small her boobs were, how ungainly she was. She had zero self confidence and was completely inept at social situations. It was nice when she got high, she didn't feel that way anymore. She was untouchable. After she'd shot up, she'd tell herself she had her Superman cape on and she was good to go. The outside world couldn't touch her. But now her cape was gone and she was back to being regular old Ellie. Socially awkward Ellie. The goofy looking girl that people talked about behind her back.
          "Do you want one?" she offered her pack to fill the silence.
          "Sure, thanks." He took the pack and pulled one out, flicking the lighter and sparking it on the first try. He coughed slightly and his ears turned red in embarrassment. "I normally only smoke at parties, y'know, when I'm drunk," he explained.
          Ellie shrugged. "It's a bad habit, but it's the only one I'm allowed now, so."
          The Boy raised an eyebrow. "What d'you mean?" She looked at him and shrugged again. "What d'you mean what do I mean? I'm an addict. Anything else is off limits."
          The Boy didn't reply, just nervously sucked on his cigarette. Ellie took a small step backwards, feeling even more embarrassed. "Where did you think you were? This is an NA meeting. All of those people in there are addicts."
          His entire face flushed this time, the tips of his ears glowing in the twilight. "There's normally a different meeting on Thursday nights," he mumbled. "It's a support group."
          "What kind of support group?" Ellie paused. "Or do you not want to talk about it?"
          The Boy looked at the ground and scuffed his feet, throwing his smoke down. He took his time and deliberately stepped on it, twisting his foot to ensure it was completely out. "It's um. It's for people who have lost people... y'know. When they die and stuff."
          "Oh," was all she said. "Um. Yeah.... That's uh... yeah. That sucks. I'm sorry."
          He shrugged again and ran his fingers through his hair. "Not your fault. Just sucks. And now I feel kinda stupid for being in the wrong place."
          "I think they rescheduled that group to Tuesday nights," she paused. "Want to hear something funny?"
He shrugged again. She wondered if that was his response to everything. "There was this one time I was trying to light my cigarette in the wind, kinda like tonight. Except I didn't have any help, my friends were all busy doing something else." Like cookin' dope, she thought. "And I squatted down and leaned forward, trying to block it on my own and the wind blew my hair in my face and it caught on fire. Burned half of it off, most of my eyelashes, and one of my eyebrows. I had to walk around like that for months."
          The Boy looked at her, momentarily horrified. "That's fucking awful! Why would that be funny?" But after a second he started laughing. It was a quiet laugh that started in the back of his throat and got louder as it turned into a belly laugh. "Holy fuck that must've sucked. I'm trying to picture what you'd look like with no eyebrow. As mean as it is it must've looked hilarious."
          "It did. It took me a little bit to get past it. Needless to say I didn't leave the house for awhile after that."
He was laughing hardcore at this point. "Yeah, I bet not."

prince stephan; The Accident

          He had never told anyone about The Accident. It was an unspoken rule in his family that no one was to speak of Thomas. Period. No happy memories. No funny "do you remember the time...?" stories. No reminiscing about their childhoods. Nothing. His Mother tried to act as if he had never existed and his Father went along with it.
          When Father lost his oldest son, he lost interest. In everything. You could've set the house on fire, in front of him, and he'd get annpyed because he wouldn't be able to finish the Cards game. He had been so proud when Tommy had joined the Corps. Tommy was the first in the family to try and make something of himself and move out of their hometown. Father worked a bullshit factory job at the tire plant, and he'd worked there his entire life. He made a career out of being miserable so he could support his family.
         Mother had worked sales at JCPenney's for as long as Stephan could remember. Anjelica told him once that Mother had been a stay at home mom when her and Tommy were little. But by the time Stephan came along she'd started working full time. Stephan had several memories of doing homework at the dinner table while Anjelica cooked. Mother was always tired after being on her feet all day and Father was working second shift.
         Those were the good days though. They still had each other, they were still a family. Sure, there was the typical sibling rivalry, what suburban lower middle class family would be complete without it? But Tommy protected his little brother. He taught Stephan how to throw a baseball and explained what second base was when it came to girls. He gave him his first beer and kicked his ass when he found him smoking pot.
          "My brother Thomas joined the Marine Corps right out of high school," Stephan began. Ellie was sitting in the middle of the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and her chin resting on them. The blanket covered all but her shoulders and she looked at him with wide eyes and mussed hair.
          "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine," she said. "I mean, I can understand that you prolly don't want to talk about it anyway and this may not be the most appropriate time." She giggled softly and leaned forward to kiss his nose. Stephan was laying back on the pillow with his right arm bent behind his head. He smiled and tugged on the sheet, causing her left boob to pop out.
          "That one's my favorite," he murmured, pulling him down next to her. "It's got a freckle." He kissed it. "Have you ever seen the movie Vanilla Sky?" he asked. She shook her head.
          "There's a scene where Tom Cruise and Penelope Cruz are laying in bed together, kind of like this, doing the pillow talk thing. And he tells her that in his next life he wants to come back as the mole on her boob. I gotta say, that would be a pretty sweet reincarnation." They both laughed and she rolled into his side, tucking her head underneath his chin. She could feel his chest move as he breathed and hear his heartbeat clearly. She peeked up at him, and saw his pulse throbbing slightly in his neck. She kissed her finger and deftly placed it on that spot, making a brief wish before snuggling back down.
          The room was quiet for several minutes, filled with the white noise of the box fan blowing. Occasionally they'd hear a muffled bit of whatever t.v. show his dad was watching but otherwise they were uninterrupted. Ellie thought he'd fallen asleep when she heard him say very quietly,
          "My brother killed himself when I was 18."
          Ellie tensed, unsure what to say. She hugged him tightly and waited to see if he'd keep going.
          "He'd been back for less than a year and was living at home with me and mom and dad. Mom had started drinking while he was gone and he thought by sticking around maybe she'd quit. Or at least cut back." He paused. "But then he started drinking too. A lot."
          "Tommy got a job at the tire factory with dad. He said he just wanted something to do until he figured out his next step, but he didn't really seem to be planning on going anywhere. Him and my dad fought about it all the time. Dad told him he was dumb and fucking up his future by coming back here, that he should let the military pay for his school and do something with himself. Then mom would get involved and she'd get that shrill voice thing going and they'd all end up yelling over each other. Was fucking stupid."
          Ellie could feel Stephan shaking his head at the memory.
          "Tommy never wanted to talk about his stint in Afghanistan. I'd ask him to tell me his war stories and he wouldn't ever go into any details. I'd ask him what it was like and all he'd say was, 'it's hot, it smells like shit, and there's always people trying to kill you. It's the armpit of the fucking universe.' "
          "Anyway. I had just got outta school on a Friday and had to go home and grab my cell phone charger. Richard Kingsley's parents were out of town and I was spending the weekend with him. We were gonna have huge fucking parties every night they were gone.
         "So I came in through the garage and noticed both my parents cars were gone. I was like fuckin' sweet and ended up raiding the outside fridge. I think I threw a couple Bud Lights and some Pizza Rolls in my backpack. When I opened the door that lead into the kitchen the house was super quiet. I remember thinking it was kinda weird 'cause I knew Tommy was home, his truck was in the driveway.
          "I stomped up the stairs and was calling him a cocksucker and a pussy for sleeping in the middle of the afternoon. Y'know. Obnoxious little brother stuff. The door to his room was closed so I pounded on it and yanked it open real quick.I'll never forget it. I'll never get that mental image out of my head. His body was hanging there, his desk chair knocked over on the ground underneath him. He had his uniform on and his face was all fucked up looking. His eyes weren't even all the way closed. That was the creepiest part. It felt like he was looking right at me.
          "So I freaked the fuck out and go and try and get him down. At first I just went up and tried to pull but as soon as I touched him he started spinning like some sick fucking joke. I turned around and threw up in the trash can. I had my pocket knife so I climbed up on the chair and cut him down. Ever moved 150 pounds of plywood all at once? That's what it fucking felt like. He was stiff and cold and just... creepy. I fell off the chair and he halfass landed on me. It was the most fucked up shit I've ever done or had to live through.
         Once I got him turned over I checked his pulse, just to make sure he was really dead. And I just sat there and stared at him. I couldn't even cry. Not a single damn tear. I just kinda hunched over him and shook. I couldn't move either. Then I saw the envelope in his pocket. It had my name on it.

prince stephen; unknown.

 Okay so I've decided this little blurb up here is going to go in the beginning of the story. A preface, if you will. And the following piece of the story is towards the end. Warning, it's a pretty graphic, angry scene. Lots of the F word.

The devil tells me,

What does it matter?

What difference does it make?

You'll always be you

A junkie

A liar

A disappointment

All the lies you told,

the things you've done

the people you hurt

if you loved them

how could you lie?

steal?

cheat?

betray?

All the things you've achieved

Mean nothing

Because in the end

I'll win

I'll win.

They may not see it

But I do

I see in your soul

And I know

You'll let me win

I'm just biding my time

I'll wait

I'm patient

I'll always be here

People, love, hate

May come and go

But me,

I'll always be here.

Always

Always.

          "Stephen, I don't think you get it..." her voice trailed off, ending in a restrained sob.
          "What? What is it I don't fucking understand? That you lied to me? That you were sticking needles in your arms while you're pregnant with our fucking kid?" He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled hard on his cigarette. He flicked it onto the ground and snatched her up by the arm. Tears were running down her face and she flinched as he shoved his face into hers.
          "Oh what? You're gonna cry now you fucking bitch? How fucking could you? I didn't even want the fucking thing in the first place. And now, after all this. After everything we've been through. After I stuck by you when my parents threw me out. After we found your fucking worthless cunt whore mother dead in your living room. After all the meetings and the rehab and the probation bullshit. AFTER ALL THAT, you're going to fuck it up. For what? For a 5 minute high? You could've killed the baby! You could've killed yourself, which at this point I don't even give a damn about. I just don't fucking get you Ellie."
          He shoved her away from him. She crumpled to the ground and started sobbing pathetically. She used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her face and nose.
          "You're a fucking asshole!" she screamed between tears. "You're preaching at me about 'oh I could've hurt the baby' and blah blah blah and it was only a couple times! You just threw me on the fucking floor! What do you think that's gonna do to him? HUH? Not like you even give a fuck. You're probably happy about it you fucking dick. You never wanted him."
          He leaned down and stuck his finger in her face. "You're right. I didn't fucking want him. I don't even know if he's mine. If you lied about this, who knows. Maybe you were out fucking your dealer for dope. Wouldn't fucking surprise me."
          She sobbed and smacked him. His head whipped back.
          "FUCK YOU! Do you hear me? FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. I'm done. I know I fucked up and I'm sorry and I came to you and told you the fucking truth. And you're blowing this shit way out of proportion and all this bullshit is bad for the baby. He's fucking Riverdancing on my ribcage right now. I can do this my fucking self, I don't need you or anybody else."
          She struggled to lean forward with her huge belly in order to pull herself off the floor. The extra weight in the front threw her off balance and she kept falling back on her ass. Stephen laughed cruelly.
          "You can't even get off the fucking floor bitch. Good luck trying to do it on your own." He turned and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
          "Good! Fucking leave! You're just like everybody else in my fucking life. Shit gets hard, they walk out the fucking door. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Fucking worthless piece of shit."
          She stretched out on her back, the only position she could maintain at the moment, and sobbed. She could feel the teardrops rolling down her face, pooling in her ears and dampening her hair. "What the fuck am I gonna do?" she murmured to herself. "He's right. I can't even get off the fucking floor." This thought made her sob even harder. She sounded like a pathetic scene out of a movie. She felt pathetic. Part of her wanted to crawl after him, beg him not to leave. Tell him how much she loved him, that she needed him. That she didn't want to, couldn't, raise the baby on her own. The other part of her, the devil part, told her that in the next room there was a box that held the answer. A little chunk of what looked like brown sugar but tasted like heaven. A rush that was better than sex, better than anything. It was like a thousand orgasms all at once, happening all over your body. And it would make this feeling go away. Make the hurt stop. Make everything stop. Maybe she'd fall asleep and never wake up.
          She ran her hands along her giant belly. She could still feel him kicking, causing ripples in her skin. The devil voice told her, He knows you're thinking about it. He wants you to do it. He knows it'll make him feel good too. Her tears started to subside. But that's not fair, the angel voice said. You're making the choice, you know what you're doing. He doesn't. You want your baby to be born a junkie? You want to fuck him over before he even starts? 
          The devil voice was louder.
       

the journey; part 1.

 *NOTE: It irks me because I have pages of this hand written in some journal that I cannot locate at the moment. It may take me awhile to get back into the groove of this one. I kinda forgot where I was going with it....

The room was spinning into a whirlwind of chaotic order. The coffee cups hung in the air, making a straight line of dirt-mouthed dishware. The musty dishcloth, haphazardly tossed into the sink three days before spiraled off into the air, somersaulting over itself in a parody of giddiness.
   I clapped my hands over my eyes but I could still hear the movements of my dirty kitchen re-arranging itself as I stood there. Disinclined at the moment to believe in the validity of the activity around me I groped into the corners of my brain, trying to feel out an explanation. The immediate response of my addled grey matter was to suspect drugs. I.E. foul play. [dum, dum, duuummm...]
   It had in fact been several years since I had intentionally ingested any sort of hallucinogen. In order to verify my new theory I reached out to touch an offending object; an airborne pepper shaker shaped like a cheeseburger, fully expecting it to disappear at my touch. Like the object of your desire in a dream fades when the alarm jolts you awake.
   The cheeseburger, upon my touch, whirled around and angrily sashayed in a wide arc, bouncing back and forth sending pepper flying in all directions.
   "No touchy," I murmured, pulling my hand back. "I get it. Relax." It circled around (orbited, perhaps?) my head for a few moments, attempting to gauge my reaction, then, apparently satisfied I had learned my lesson, zoomed off to rejoin it's companions. The oven mitts were dancing cheerily with each other, keeping to a secret tune that only kitchen things must know.
   A normal, sane person at this point would have generally reacted more strongly than I currently was. I was merely absorbed in watching these inanimate objects sudden lack of inanimacy. I felt I had been waiting to see something like this all my life.
   I considered my hypothesis of potential drug consumption. What had I drank earlier? What had I eaten? As I wracked my brain I noticed sugar drifting into the air. It came in short bursts as the sugar bowl waltzed slowly around the room. I held my cup of coffee (this cup staying quietly in my hands, uninterested in adding to the merrymaking of it's kin) up, trying to capture enough to make the drink palatable.

I had just managed to coax enough sugar into my cup when I heard a noise behind me. It was a small "ahem!" A throat clearing that startled me into a spin. The coffee sloshed onto my shirt as I involuntarily drew my arms up against my chest in surprise.
   A squat figure stood before me. A pair of round eyes fixed themselves on mine. They were an astonishing shade of purple. Not the soft, almost violet that some inherited. Like a temperamental shaft of light in a pool of still water. These eyes were vibrant. A vividness I had never seen in a person before. At least not without the aid of contacts.
   The figure cleared it's throat again. It was a subtle noise, really. Blending into the clinking and clanking of the dishes. I blinked owlishly at him. My initial reaction spent I merely gazed curiously at the round purple-eyed man standing in my house. One would expect more of a reaction, generally. A jolt of shock. A gasp or surprise, perhaps. But no, at this point I was beyond all that nonsense.
   My kitchen was frolicking. My linoleum was covered in a salty, sugary, peppery concoction. I figured this guy might at least be able to point me in the right direction as to why this was so.
   "You're late," a breathy Marilyn Monroe sex kitten voice murmured.
    The noise I thought I wasn't going to make escaped me at this moment. The Round Man let out an exasperated sigh that sounded like a baby hiccuping.
   "I sa-eeed," he paused dramatically. "That. You. Are. Late."

                 *****i can't find the piece that goes here, i know it's written... some.... where*****

"My name is Headmistress Papillon,” the bouquet garmented woman announced. She seemed pleased at the direction the interview had taken and had decided it was time to enter into the grande finale.

“You have been brought here at the request of the Royal Re-Institution Committee. As you are no doubt aware this is a great honor. Service in this endeavor could very well bring about the end of such chaos and bring about a new kind of peace to our unhappy province.”

            Magdalena stared, eyes bugging with surprise.

            “I…uh… What?”

            The Headmistress sighed impatiently for the sixth time since Magdalena’s arrival. “You are a member of the Imperial family, surely you realize that?”

            Magdalena’s face colored crimson with frustration.

            “Will you quit saying everything as if I should already know it? I’m not a mind reader y’know.”

            “Headmistress Papillion squeaked in surprise. “But… of course you are.” She spun around, orange dress flowing around her tulip fashion. Binns was the direction of her fury.

            “What is the meaning of this Binns?? An Imperial that can’t read minds? Where is her Modsiw? Has any of her training been completed?”

            Binns cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, not exactly.”

            “What precisely does ‘not exactly’ mean?”

            Binns rattled his throat again.

            “Stop that irritating growling and get on with it!”

            “It appears Lady Magdalena’s Modsiw disappeared shortly after their arrival to The There. She has received no training, milady."

             She reached her hand out in a clenching motion, as if by sheer force she could snap poor Binns head off his neck. Binns made a small bow and, in the same motion, beat feet to the door. He moved with such speed that the papers on the Headmistresses desk had not settled before he was out of the room.

             "Well then," Papillon muttered. 

              Magdalena continued to stand there, flabbergasted. In the entire half an hour she'd spent in this place she had witness more bizarre things than she had in her entire lifetime. A menopausal, flower-headed woman and a purple eyed midget arguing about her being able to read minds was a little more than she could take in one day.

              "Well, if you'll excuse me, it seems pretty obvious that I'm not who you think I am. I'd like it if you could get that little dude back in here so he can take me home, I left my coffee pot on."

              "No, no, that will never do," the Headmistress replied. "No, what we need is a new Modsiw. Although I've never had to find one for someone who has already reached the Age of Acceptance. It is very unorthodox." She looked up at Magdalena's blank expression. "It just isn't done."

               "Oh....?" was all Magdalena could say.

               Headmistress Papillon walked circles around the room, tapping her fingers against her mouth, whispering quietly to herself. Magdalena took this opportunity to slowly make her way to the door. She backed up, a step at a time, pausing between each one to see if the other woman was paying attention. 

               She wasn't.