Why there are Stars In The Sky

Young Rupert and his two cousins, Giles and Elroy, were sitting outside on the balcony of an apartment building in France when a curiosity concerning shining dots in the sky arose among them. Rupert, being the youngest at the age of three, and Giles and Elroy being twins at the age of four, all had bright red hair, pale skin, and brilliant green eyes. Rupert ran up inside the apartment building, up to his babysitter, and asked quietly “Amelie, what are those shining dots een thee sky? And why do they only come out at night?”

Amelie sat Rupert, Giles and Elroy down and began to tell them the reason why there are shining dots in the sky and where they came from. The three boys sat in a circle as she began the story. They each sat cross legged and listened intently to each word she said, as if each word gave new meaning to their curiosities.

“Well, eet’ is a goot’ story and I am most pleased to be the one to tell you. Y’see, there wonce was a time when there were no stars een thee sky and een that time, thee world twas very dark. I don’t mean dark like eet was bad, but eet really was dark, with no light after the sun was done setting, y’know. In that time, eet was all about Love. Love one another, love yourself, and love your neighbor – just as the gracious Lord commanded us to do. Love was the dominant expression of everyone. Now, there was a man named Jacques, and he was extremely een love with a young girl named Celine. She was one of thee most beautiful woman een all the world and nearly every man who even saw her was eemmediately een love with her. This fact made Jacques extremely jealous. He was often thrown eento fits of rage and punished for his ‘wrongdoings’ by thee french government.

Evechooally, Jacques and Celine were engaged to be married and before Jacques would set thee date for the ceremony, he ‘ad to fineesh cutting some loose ends. One night, when eet was very dark and he had only the light of the streetlamps, he went very, very far eento a forest and kneeled down before a tree. H-why he did thees, no one is sure. But Jacques began to pray very seriously to God, asking Him to punish every man who lusted after his fiancé.

For nearly an entire year, Jacques believed that God ‘ad not answered his prayer so they still did not wed. Every night, he bowed down een his ‘ome and prayed to God and asked for a more extreme puneeshment on thee men. Eet started with his fiancé yelling at them een private – then een public. Soon, eet escalated eento them being put eento jail for their lustiful acts. Remember though, that back then they could be put een jail for a mere kiss upon a females lips that belonged to somebody else. Back then, there were morals beyond anyt’ing we ‘ave now; there were set standards for what twas okay and what twas not.

Celine and Jacques were evechooally married. The ceremony was wonderful and they lived very ‘appily for a long time. About three years later, men still lusted after Celine and still, Jacques was thrown eento ‘orrible fits of rage. There was a time somewhere een those three years that he didn’t pray to God because he felt his prayer had been answered, but when he noticed eet ‘appening again, he went to the forest for the second time and bowed down before a tall tree. He asked very seriously for the Holy Spirit to come eento heem and take away hees rage but the enemy, the devil, he sent three of hees most devious demons to sway poor Jacques mind.

After that, he stopped praying to God completely and he made a ruthless deal with thee devil. He did not talk to Celine about any of thees and he acted rashly, een rage. He said to the devil, “I want you to banish the men who look at my wife – no, not only mu wife but any woman – in a sinful lust. I want you to banish them somewhere very far where they can’t even look at woman anymore.”

The devil listened, but twisted hees motives and offered a proposition. The devil said to heem, “I will make you a deal, you poor miserable man. I will banish every lustful man to the sky, to sit for nearly an entire lifetime if you give me something in return.”

Jacques thought long and ‘ard about thees, and found he ‘ad trouble thinking of a fair exchange, so he asked thee devil to think of one for him. The devil, so deceiving een hees ways, phrased hees proposition so cunningly that Jacques fell for eet. The devil said, ‘I will banish them into the sky, to look down on the world, at every woman who is so beautiful to them, but they will not be able to talk to her or touch her or do anything he wants with her. For the rest of every woman’s lifetime that the men lust after, they will add on to the amount of years they must linger in the sky. In exchange for this very reasonable proposition, I only want you to join me in my Kingdom when you die. You will get to spend the rest of your life with the girl you love, and then you can join me. What do you say?’

Jacques, too excited to finally be getting his way, agreed eemeedeeately. He did not take any time to consider who he was making this deal with. The deed was done, and from that moment forward, every man who looked at a woman een lust was banished to thee sky. When Celine found out what he had done, she was thrown into an outrage and gave him an ultimatum. She said to him, “Jacques, how dare you not consult me before acting so rashly on this, y'know? I need you to choose now, will it be me or the devil? I want to spend eternity in Heaven in a blissful communion with my Lord, and now you will spend eternity in ‘ell away from me and from your God. You made a mistake Jacques, but this is your choice: cancel your deal with the devil and spend eternity with me and your God in ‘appiness, or join him, the ultimate deceiver, in the eternal torturing of men, what will it be?’

Jacques was confused; he did not know what to do. Had he considered all thees before he agreed, he would not be in thees situation. For the third time, Jacques went deep eento the forest and kneeled before a tall tree and he prayed – but this time he was calling upon thee devil. He wanted to take back the deal they had made ut the devil did not answer. It was too late and he could not change the deal he had made.

So, because of Jacques extreme jealousy, all men who lust after any female will be banished eento the sky to look down upon the world. They glow in the night so they will always be able to see the woman, but never touch them or talk to them. And eet was Jacques fault because he gave eento the devils trap and he was too impatient to wait for God to give him the right way of going about eet. And that, young Rupert, is what those shining dots in thee sky are – they are sinful men paying their dues for their lives.

How to Pray "Correctly"

There is many times where people feel the need to pray. When someone dies, when they don’t know what to do, or even when they want to ‘grow closer to God’. But I have found many times where I, or someone I was with, wasn’t comfortable praying aloud. There is an unacknowledged fear that follows the mere thought of praying out loud – and I am here to acknowledge it. I acknowledge the fact that everyone prays differently and I want to embrace it.
If it’s your first time, it is key that you close your eyes and breathe deeply for a few moments. This is necessary because your heart is racing and you’re already beginning to plan out the exact words you are going to say. Don’t. Don’t worry about using “deep” words and, for whatever reason, trying to prove yourself worthy to the rest of the group that you’re praying with. You don’t have to justify yourself to them or anyone else. And if, at the end, they do judge you by how you prayed – then just brush it off because their opinion means nothing to you.

Now that you’ve taken your deep, cleansing breath you can prepare for the praying. BUT that does not mean you can begin planning words because the point of prayer is to have it come from the heart; not to sound like a monotone recording. Wait for a moment of silence where your prayer will be much welcomed through the pause but do not wait too long because soon enough, someone will decide to close the prayer. “Christians” are impatient like that. I love how people generalize all Christians in one grouping.

Anyway, now is the time to shut up. I know, this is also where you want to begin to talk but this is when you need to make your mind shut-up – Stop thinking about what to say. When you’re ready to start, don’t worry about how to address God. Say whatever your comfortable with: “Father God,” “Heavenly Father,” “Dear God,” or even “Yo Lord.” Just say it in a way that you are comfortable. I find a lot of times when I start to pray I forget everything I was going to say. When that happens, and it will, you can say “Please bless us all, and “thank you for allowing us to be here.” Basically you can say anything generic that you’ve heard a hundred times before because all you’re doing is filling the gap so you can regain your composure. Once your composure is regained, you can begin to pray for the things you initially wanted to.

Most times people pray for current world issues loved ones health problems, or money issues. Those are all really great things to pray about but I can tell you what will be the real kicker. Pray about something you’re going through. Make a confession. Confessions within a prayer group will make everyone look up to you as you humble yourself and what not. (Because as we all know “all Christians just want to be praised.”) But really now, confessions are a great thing to do because a lot of times it gives others the courage to admit things they otherwise wouldn’t have mentioned. It can strengthen accountability, fellowship, and a bunch of other Christian-ese terms that probably mean nothing to you.

DO NOT take that last tip the wrong way. I am, by no means, telling you to confess your sins to a person because that is clearly a ridiculous concept. For how can another human being, equally sinful as you, help in any way but by giving you advice that they think will help – even though they also did not take the time to pray about it.

Another way you can get people to look up to you through how you pray - because we know that the only reason people REALLY pray is to get others to look up to us- is by praying while quoting the bible. If your motive is to gain respect from the group then I suggest steer clear of John 3:16 and Proverbs 3:5-6 because every Christian knows both verses by heart and will not be impressed by your bible biceps; cute Christian-ese term for Scripture Memory. Otherwise, choose a verse that really fits what you’re praying for. If you’re praying about money, don’t throw in some genesis 1-let there by light stuff. Rather, throw in a verse that’s relevant to what you’re praying about. For example, if you’re praying about a hard situation – like a loved one died- maybe mix in a little James 1:12 and see where that gets you.

If you never regained your composure from the very beginning, you’re a helpless case. All you can do is end the prayer. If you’re so stuck that you can’t even think of a way to end it, I’ll help you out, just say: “Thank you Lord, Amen.” And if you remember anything at all, then remember this: there is no correct way to pray.

He Hit me [an unreliable narrator]

I turned the ignition off in the car and slowly stepped out of the vehicle, still a bit shaken up. My head was pounding furiously, and my heart was beating so loud I could hear it over the sirens. As the police cars got closer and closer, the ringing in my ears grew louder and louder and my frustration mounted to a new level. The police officer crossed over the last few parking lines that separated us until he was standing only a few feet in front of me.

“Excuse me Madame’, can I see your license and insurance information please,” the police man asked me, very abruptly I might add. I looked to him, wide eyed, then moved to my car and reached into the glove compartment for my insurance information. I flashed the license out and showed it to him quickly, then handed him my insurance information. Either nervously or angrily, I anxiously tapped my license in the palm of me hand. The tapping against my palm matched the pounding in my head and somehow it seemed to lessen the degree of intensity.

“You listen, and you listen good young man. That man over there intentionally hit my car! You make sure he pays! I refuse to pay for something I had no control over,” I told him as calmly as my mouth would allow. There was a long pause. “Are you listening to me?! That man intentionally hit me!”

“Madame, I am going to need you to calm down,” he said. He continued, “The reason I am here is to get the information…” He paused, and then added, “The correct information. Now, tell me calmly, and slowly what exactly happened here.”

I took my insurance information back after he finished copying it down, and then began to tell him exactly what happened. “You see young man, I was driving down Manchester road right here, and along come this hoodlum and he rammed straight into me! Please young man, just get his insurance information and tell me with how he is going to pay for the damages to my car. I need to get home. ”

The young officer looked at me, as if exhausted from my account of the situation, but he regained his composure quickly and said, “I understand that Madame. Now, can you tell me, were you in any sort of rush? Because, you’re telling me now that you need to get home and to me, that implies you may have been rushing.”
“No sir, he was the one rushing!”

“May I ask then, why do you need to get home now?”

Before I could answer, a paramedic came straight up to me and began padding my forehead with a damp cloth. Naturally, I pushed this mans hands away from me. “Excuse me sir, can I help you,” I asked, growing a little impatient. My head was already pounding and the pressure he applied did not help in the least.

“I’m sorry Miss, but you have a cut on your head and it’s my job to clean it up. I also am required to offer to take you in for examining, in case of concussion,” the middle-aged paramedic told me gently.

“I see… Well, you give me one more moment to clear my name with this young officer here and I’ll be right there to deal with you in a minute,” and I turned to the police officer again. “As you heard, they need me to go with them, so you can call me by phone. Thank you for your consistency, I just ask you get the story right here. I know exactly what happened, and that is he hit me. That is all there is to it. Good day.”

“Excuse me? Do you mean, cooperation, rather than consistency?”

“Yes, cooperation, that’s what I said! Good day.”

The officer nodded, bent his cap down toward me, and said, “Good day Miss, I will do my best to sort this out.”

I walked over to the paramedic’s vehicle and took a seat in the rear end of it. They laid me down on a cushioned table and asked me a lot of silly questions. For example, questions like: “How many fingers am I holding up?” and “Does this hurt,” as he jabbed his palm onto the side of my head. I objected to the pressure he was applying, but he insisted that he didn’t impress much and that I may have had a concussion. When he said that, I sat up on the table and looked straight at him. “I need to get home, if you’ll excuse me. Just do me a favor and tell that officer one last time that I did not hit that mans car and that he hit mine. Thank you, good evening.”

I stood up and stepped down from the van. As I was walking across the parking lot, I suppose I tripped over something and hit my head because that is the last thing I remember of that night. The next memory I have is of lying in a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around my head. The clip board at the end of the bed read: ‘Concussion.’

Writing Process

To start off with, I should make it clearly known that when I write, it is more like a conversation than anything else I could compare it to. It is like my mind is talking to the paper – or computer screen – and I have no conscious awareness of what I am about to write until it is already written. When given a topic to write about, my mind isn’t always jumping for joy to start talking, so in general, this is the process I have to go through to get my mind in the correct mood to begin the conversation:

I sit at my computer, and wait expectantly, staring at the screen as if I’m somehow anticipating the words to magically appear in front of me or for some divine inspiration to come my way. Once a good amount of time has wasted away and I realize that the words won’t magically appear and divine inspiration has chosen to speak to some other struggling writer, I sit in front of my computer and begin to write nonsense. Sometimes, I write something that is partially related to the topic I am supposed to be writing on, and sometimes I write things that have absolutely no relation- but either way I begin to write something, anything. (This “wasting of time” is the only way I’ve found to get my mind in the mood to talk and be comfortable with what it has to say.) Typically, after having wasted a good hour on writing nonsense and replaying the e-mail scenes from “You’ve Got Mail” over and over in my head, my mind is ready to focus and write about the assigned topic- though I admit, I have experienced instances where my mind is never ready and willing to write about one specific thing.

During the assigned-writing-stage, I come across few difficulties. The words usually pour out of me onto the screen and I just let my fingers do the walking as my mind does the talking. When the writers block hits in the middle of my flow – which is extremely common – I skip ahead until I find a point that my mind is ready to talk about.

Then comes the dreaded reading-over stage- the stage where I generally compare my writing to J.R.R. Tolkien and compare my dialogue to movies like: “Before Sunrise,” “Dead Poet’s Society,” and “Big Fish.” The stage where I pick away at every word and rephrase almost everything I wrote the stage that’s most commonly known as the ‘correction stage’.

Eventually, I reach a point of frustration and print out whatever I have written. I give up on rephrasing, re-writing, and filling in the gaps and just try to be content in the work I produced. I’m not always satisfied with the end result but I am always content with the effort I put in and the thoughts behind the point I was trying to get across.

A Fools Paradise

A Fools Paradise

The world is a fool’s paradise. Nothing is what it seems, just a fraud worth living for, a game worth playing to reach the end, or a movie worth watching for the ending credits. The world is a whore easily bought out for a cheap sin. It is Hells Alley. Satan’s playground. And Sin city.

It is a story only told on dark nights to children looking for an easy scare. There is no climax, just an ending to a long awaited theme that never arises. In worldly terms, there is no true happy ending to the story. Just lives worth talking about on dark nights.

For the world, life is meaningless – especially to those who think the world is all there is, who make the world into a hidden treasure that they think they stumbled onto in a field in a momentary strike of luck, or who believe there is no evil existing. For the world, life is a nightmare and everyone is just waiting to wake up – hopefully to a place called Paradise.

Paradise is a place that some can only dream of though, and most assuredly not wake up to. It is the epitome of what is right in the world and what is perfect outside of the world. Paradise is a place of bliss, felicity, and joy - all qualities lacking here on earth. It is a place worth dreaming about, because its definition is a place worth striving to get to. Heaven. It is a beautiful, spiritual, everlasting communion between the blessed dead and God.

One question remains in my head though. Why, if earth is so utterly lacking in even fractions of joy and perfection, would people choose to ignore the Paradise existing all around us to dance with demons in a sinful lust? Furthermore, if people can manage to find joy living on earth, in its grotesque manner of war and hate, why deprive their souls and hearts any longer to the hope and knowledge of there existing a real Paradise just over the horizon of our perception?

Life Unscripted: A Personal Testimonial

I grew up with no religion. My mom was a “catholic” and my dad was Jewish by blood, but neither followed the faith of either denomination. Even though I wasn’t assigned to a particular religion growing up, I did sway towards Christianity at a young age. When I was in third grade I would sneak in the backyard and read my children’s bible in a small forested corner of the yard – just opposite the corner with the mini hill. I read it in hope of learning what the big deal was with our neighbor Shannon going to Sunday school every week, and with a real curiosity of the whole thing.

In fourth grade, my parents began their divorce and that was probably an end to whatever curiosity I was harboring for the next few years. It wasn’t until seventh grade that my interest was sparked again. I began reading a series called “Left Behind” and that was what led me to developing a relationship with Christ. I did not go to church at that point and had no background knowledge of being a Christian, but I truly believe that was the time period at which I got saved. But having no accountability and nobody there to disciple me, I did not begin walking until winter of eighth grade.

In the winter of eighth grade the youth group, Ro0ts, went on a winter camp retreat. The speaker was Joey Baran – my sister got saved that weekend. It was the beginning of my walk, my relationship, and an end to a new beginning. I look at it like I was slowing down for about a year at the stop light, and finally, that winter, I was able to begin moving forward; except this time around I had Christ on my side.

Ninth grade was my first year being a true believe and a strong one at that. Ro0ts was going through its Golden years, as we like to call it. Though my dog, Tobi, had just died, I somehow found strength and hope in Christ to strive forward and draw closer to God. The year was drab for me, because for most of it I was learning about who God it, and what it is to be a Christian, and getting over the death of my former best friend. It was the year I learned to make God my best friend, to trust God in all things, and the year I look back at as amazing.

We held a couple events with the youth group; car washes, a garage sale, and we sent out letters to raise money for New York. Ro0ts was at its peak. We were never closer as of that point. Finally, New York came and we bound together as Christian teens for Christ for that entire summer. Every minute we had free we spent time together. There was almost a month and a half there that we spent every day doing something with someone from the New York trip.

After that summer, I started tenth grade and things began to change. In October, the Phillips left the church and we lost two prominent members of our gang – Ryan and Tiffani. Also, Jackie and Dan called things off after the New York trip so there was no doubt some rifts in the group. Eventually, Jackie and Jill stopped coming to Ro0ts and the group was no longer the original members. Though I, and I’m sure the rest of the group, are thankful that new people started coming, there is no doubt in my mind that we miss having the whole group together.

In tenth grade, many people came to, and unfortunately, left Christ. My friends Tiffany and Theo came to Christ and Kami came to youth group. And my sisters’ friends Megan and Alyssa came to Christ. Alyssa and Theo fell back soon after they began, and Megan has not yet been left with much accountability but her heart is still in the right place. This year also, we lost our youth leader Brian Blomer to Christen Deane. We gained Steve Roby and Julia in response though.

Right now, I am a happy Christian. I am mostly waiting for Jesus’ return – though I don’t really expect it to happen in my lifetime. I’ struggling with things most teen girls do: little passing crushes, dieting techniques - mostly vain stuff. We are planning to go to Texas at the end of this summer, Summer of Love, but my doubts are high if I will go. I’m too hung up on what I look like and honestly, my faith doesn’t appear to be that strong that it is His will for me to go. If we will only be going for water parks and fellowship, I can’t spare the $175.

The trials of Milfer Loodens: Journey to Nolybab Wen

In a large log in a small forest lived a Lunker. Not a dirty log, with worms and maggots crawling inside and the smell of rotted wet wood; nor a dry log with decaying wood and ants and spiders living among it.

This log was the perfect size and temperature for a Lunker to live. It had a small circular door attached at the end that was painted orange with a brass knob in the center. If one walked inside, one would see a long hall-type area with wooden floors, yellow walls, and a lot of paintings; many – of which – matched up to one another. On either side of the hall there laid four doors. Each door contained a small label in the center that declared its purpose. As you walk down, the first door to the left – which was purple - read ‘Tonlar’; and to the right – which was green - read ‘Selitneg.’ The second door to the left – which was orange - read ‘Lunker’; and to the right – which was blue - read ‘Menkar.’

The Lunkers were the least respected of the four. They were known to be rude, cruel creatures that loved to play tricks on people. But anyone who gets to know a Lunker knows that is not quite the case.

Take Cawfie Loodens – for example – who gets along with all the Selitneg’s and Tonlars and Menkars. He loves to play dirty tricks, like planting explosive dirt in the Menkars beds – the Menkars are obsessive compulsive about cleaning, so when the dirt bomb explodes in their bed they nearly go mad – but it’s obvious to them that he only means for good fun.

But I am not here to talk about the quarrels and friendships between the Lunkers and the Menkars or the Tonlars and the Selitneg’s. Oh no, I am here to tell you the courageous tale of Milfer Loodens. Milfer Loodens was the nephew to Cawfie and has lived with him since before he can remember. Milfer has asked Cawfie where his real parents are and how they ended up in Noitalever Logs – the log they live in, but Cawfie always finds a way to deflect the questions and tells stories of his childhood.

All of Milfer’s friends told him he belonged in Nolybab Wen, where his parents originated. They said he was a bad kid because of the jokes his uncle played on their parents but that they would accept him anyway because they pitied him. He accepted whatever gratitude they gave him but did not want to settle for “that’s just the way it is” anymore.

Here is where the story starts. Milfer Loodens, nephew of Cawfie and townsman of Noitalever Logs at age 78 – which is equivalent to 15 in human years – began his journey to Nolybab Wen where he expected to find some answers.

He packed an orange bandanna full of clothes and food and a bit of money to get him along the way. Though he did not know where it was, or how to get there, he was determined to get there no matter what circumstances did present. He had never left Noitalever Logs before but the concept did not scare him but it excited him. He would be the first Lunker to leave.

On his way out, his three best friends, Leikeze, Arze, and Wehttam decided they couldn’t bear to watch him make a fool of himself alone and insisted they join him; though Milfer knew they really just wanted to get in on the adventure of their lifetimes. Leikeze packed his red bandanna chock full of food and drinks. Arze packed his green bandanna to the brim with weaponry and money. Wehttam did not take his blue bandanna though; he merely took a book with him.

The four friends stopped at the large orange door to Noitalever Logs and, without saying a word, said more than they’d ever spoken to one another before.

The journey began. They had to go through Natas falls, travel around Mount Nomed, go under Lufnis Forest and journey through Nevaeh Valley before arriving at Nolybab Wen. They had no idea what sort of dangers, trials, and tribulations lay ahead. They did not know what sort of wars and battles may be waging on in those places. They did know which way to go. All they knew was they were in this together, completely oblivious to the world around them, and they had one thing on their side that not many people would have. Yaweh.

Inside a shoebox

The scene is set. Wind is blowing, snow is falling, and trees are left leafless. It's winter time and its cold outside. The sky is gray and the ground is covered in freshly fallen snow. At least that's the look the scene decorators were going for when they created the set for the new school play, "Christmas in Chicago". It was written by none other than Eloise Mei Candeleria, a young, spunky girl with a mind full of imagination and a heart full of spirit. Born and raised in the suburbs of Chicago and brought up in a home where God was the answer to everything. Her mom, Annie Mei Candeleria/Donaldson, who was born in Hawaii and raised in California, owned a small bakery called "Can&Dawn Bakery." She made the store's title when she met Eloise's Dad, Daniel Luke Candeleria or Duke for short, owns a record label called "Persecute Records."
Eloise is 15 years old and for the most part believes that Jesus died so she can be forgiven for her sins, but decides not to be as righteous about her faith as her mom or her 20 year old brother, Charles.
The play she wrote is basically a make-fun of her family Christmas's. One scene is of the family standing in the living room singing Christmas songs and worship songs. Later in the scene they hold hands and pray together. The play was a sentimental comedy.


Eloise walked around her Dad's study. She had to find an answer. She would not leave unless she found something explaining her Dad's odd behavior. The feelings that struck next had not been well rehearsed nor had they been expected. The stress was getting to her. Eloise turned to the brick fireplace in the corner of the office and sighed. Again, she tried to insert the key into the desk drawer. As surely as ever, the drawer slid open slowly and inside laid a brown-paper covered shoebox. Beads of sweat ran down her neck as the sound of a key turned in the door to the study. Dad was coming and would not be very forgiving of her intrusion going by how he reacted to everything else lately.

He walked in the room slowly and locked the door behind him. The silence in the room spoke more to Eloise than any noise her Dad could have made. She peeked through the crack in the closet doors and saw her Dad sitting at his desk twirling his fingers around one another anxiously.

Ring!

Startled, Eloise jumped at the loud ring but to her benefit, her Dad paid no attention. She paused and drew her breath carefully, mentally noting every word her father said in the conversation.

"Hi Joe."

This is Dan Candeleria. I'm guessing your calling about the updates on my son, Charles?"

Silence.

"I see. Yes... Mhm... Oh...Alright, thank you Joe. Yes, yes. "

A look of concern fell on Dan's face. He put down the phone, sighed as if exhausted, and stood. As he walked toward the door of the study he held his head low and slouched, his feet dragging. But when he reached the door he held his head high and put on a strong face. He left the study and locked the door.

Eloise slowly slid out of the closet. Who was he talking to? Why was he so upset? And why did he pretend to be so strong when inside he was torn apart? And why in the world would a conversation about Charles make him so upset? How many hours do I have until I have to be at school for the premiere of the play?

She looked at her pink Disney watch. It was 5:46 p.m. The play was at 8:00 p.m. so she had about an hour before she had to leave. She heard someone heading for the study again. Because she did not want to be stuck in the closet again, she started to panic... The key jingled in the door. Her heart pumped rapidly. The window was her only way out. She quickly unlocked it from the top and climbed out.

Right as she shut the window from the outside, the study door opened. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth as she jogged away from the window.


She didn’t have a coat on. All she wore was an orange sweater with a white stripe around the cuff of the sleeve, tan pants, and a cashmere tan scarf draped around her neck.

She set the shoebox down by some bushes in front of the house, slid inside the front door and in a quick movement grabbed her black winter coat before sliding back out. The weather was decent. It had to be somewhere around 45 degrees. The breeze was light and the snow was soft enough to walk out but not wet enough to make slush. Perfect.

Eloise made her way down the street to the school, shoebox in hand. She arrived at a nearby playground and sat on a dry bench under a willow tree with a trunk of 30 inches in diameter. The wind whistled at her loudly, almost as if warning her not to open the box. But at this point nothing could stop her. She had the curiosity of a cat and the sneakiness of a snake.

She ran her cold, red fingers over the top of the box until they reached the sides of the lid. The wind whistled a bit louder this time, and the sky grew grayer. She pulled the top off of the box and what she saw inside was as shocking as if she’d seen a bird in the sky on a night like this.


Amelia woke up to pouring rain smacking her in the face and sirens blazing around her. Without thinking, she rolled over and fell off the bench, leaving a deep gash in her forehead. She slowly stood up and looked around. Just a few feet away she saw ambulances speeding down the streets. The noise of the sirens, mixed with the growing storm, and crying families made her head pound even worse than the wound.

Walking slowly toward the chaos, she noticed clothing lying under a set of swings, but no body around to claim them. As she walked closer, confused, she noticed they belonged to a neighbor of hers. A little girl of 4 years old named Kelsie. Was Kelsie running around in the rain with no clothes on?

She picked up the clothes, intending to bring them to Kelsie’s parents, and walked toward the chaos infested area. The screams of people grew louder as she got closer. She finally reached the street as what she saw horrified her. Car crashes filled every street in sight and fires blazes for miles. Hundreds of people were on their knees crying and screaming. It took her an hour to gather up the nerve to ask someone what was happening and another hour after than for someone to tell her.

A guy named Chuck Robins, 17, sat down with her, his eyes as red as the fire surrounding them from crying, and began to tell his story.

“I was raised in a Christian home, my parents were completely on fire for God and totally ready to live out their lives to serve Him. I went on mission trips and I did the whole church thing but when it came to trusting Him and giving Him the things in my life that I held close, like dating and going to parties, I just couldn’t let it go. I remember at one youth retreat, the pastor talked about the last book in the bible, Revelation. He was telling us how one day, Jesus would lift up all who truly believed in Him and leave all of those who denied on earth for seven years. In those seven years, there would be four judgments; something like a major earthquake, and locusts, and a heat wave. In those seven years, the antichrist will rise into power, seeming to be this huge savior in the time of greatest need. It will be the time all choose if they want to accept Christ or deny Him.”

Amelia looked at him, stunned. She too had heard a bit about the book of Revelation from her brother Charles. In fact, only a few days ago he was trying to convince her to read it. Still, the puzzle wasn’t fitting together.

“So? Why is there chaos? Why the fires, the car accidents? Did God do this too,” she asked, getting impatient.

He looked at her, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, no,” before continuing, he paused and looked around, then stood. “Follow me.” He started walking quickly.

She was not sure whether or not she should follow but she didn’t feel like she had much choice. She could stay and be confused and surrounded by screaming people, or follow and possibly get some answers. She stood and followed as fast as she could to stay close behind him. Finally, he stopped at a church and grabbed her hand to drag her inside. The doors swung open hard and hit the walls. The sound echoed throughout the room.

Amelia found herself short of breath when she looked around. Everywhere, there were sets of clothing lying empty on the floor. She could have asked where the people were, and why they were running around nude, but she knew the answer.

“God came and lifted them up already,” she said quietly, putting it all together. Before thanking him or even looking around to see if it was a hoax, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She ran past the screaming people on the side of the streets, and past the ambulances treating people from car crashes. She ran through the park and toward home, trying not to think about what kind of trouble she would be in when she got home.

Her house stood as it always had in the past, tall and clean. Even as the rain mixed with dirt beside her porch, and the un-homely sound of screaming surrounded the area, she still felt things were safer. For almost 10 minutes she stood still in front of her house, thinking of what Chuck had told her. Slowly, taking small steps, she began inching toward her porch. Every breath she took she made sure to fill her lungs completely, in fear she’d lose her breath in sudden shock as she moved forward.

When she opened the door to her house she heard a faint crying. She followed the sound and found her Dad, crying near his bed. She rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him. He looked up, so relieved to see her, then wrapped his arms around her tightly and sobbed in her shoulder for a moment.

“Dad, where is Mom and Charles,” she asked earnestly.

He just shook his head and started sobbing again. Amelia pulled away, looking at him in shock. She stood quickly and looked on top of the bed where she saw her mom’s clothing. A white cashmere sweater, some pearls near the neck, denim jeans, brown wool socks, her wedding ring, and a charm bracelet Amelia had made for her when she was ten. She rushed to Charles room where she found his clothing lying in his bed; but no Charles in sight.

Instead of panicking, she took the bible on Charles nightstand and lay on his bed beside his clothes. She opened to the last book in the bible, Revelation, and began reading. Moments later, her Dad joined her with Annie’s bible.


A few hours later, Chuck came inside and told her he had followed her but had waited outside. He sat with them and answered some questions.

“What do we have to expect for the next seven years,” asked Luke.

“Well, if you turn to Revelation 16 God tells us the seven bowl judgments.”

1Then I heard a loud voice from the temple saying to the seven angels, “Go, pour out the seven bowls of God's wrath on the earth.” 2The first angel went and poured out his bowl on the land, and ugly and painful sores broke out on the people who had the mark of the beast and worshiped his image.
3The second angel poured out his bowl on the sea, and it turned into blood like that of a dead man, and every living thing in the sea died.
4The third angel poured out his bowl on the rivers and springs of water, and they became blood. 5Then I heard the angel in charge of the waters say: “You are just in these judgments, you who are and who were, the Holy One, because you have so judged; 6for they have shed the blood of your saints and prophets, and you have given them blood to drink as they deserve.” 7And I heard the altar respond: “Yes, Lord God Almighty, true and just are your judgments.”
8The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and the sun was given power to scorch people with fire. 9They were seared by the intense heat and they cursed the name of God, who had control over these plagues, but they refused to repent and glorify him.
10The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and his kingdom was plunged into darkness. Men gnawed their tongues in agony 11and cursed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores, but they refused to repent of what they had done.
12The sixth angel poured out his bowl on the great river Euphrates, and its water was dried up to prepare the way for the kings from the East. 13Then I saw three evil[a] spirits that looked like frogs; they came out of the mouth of the dragon, out of the mouth of the beast and out of the mouth of the false prophet. 14They are spirits of demons performing miraculous signs, and they go out to the kings of the whole world, to gather them for the battle on the great day of God Almighty.
15“Behold, I come like a thief! Blessed is he who stays awake and keeps his clothes with him, so that he may not go naked and be shamefully exposed.”
16Then they gathered the kings together to the place that in Hebrew is called Armageddon.
17The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and out of the temple came a loud voice from the throne, saying, “It is done!” 18Then there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder and a severe earthquake. No earthquake like it has ever occurred since man has been on earth, so tremendous was the quake. 19The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations collapsed. God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath. 20Every island fled away and the mountains could not be found. 21From the sky huge hailstones of about a hundred pounds each fell upon men. And they cursed God on account of the plague of hail, because the plague was so terrible.

Crazy In Love
She stood their, in the poorly lit doorway, with her strawberry blond hair falling lightly against her pale skin. Her rosy red cheeks glowing with the light of a single lamp in the room directly in front of her. Her brilliant hazel eyes sparkling with tears spilling down her cheeks. As she slowly begins to walk into the room, she lifts her small hand to her hair and twirls it around her index finger. She makes her way to the darkest corner of the room and slides her back against it until she gets in a sitting position, her legs folded up to meet her chest. When she rests the side of her head against the wall, tilting it slightly, she sits in utter silence, thinking of the man she loves. Images flashing before her eyelids when they shut, of his dark brown, shaggy hair, and his radiant green eyes that were intoxicating to look into. His voice, deep and smooth, humming in her head like a blessing to her ears. Images flashing, of their first date on the beach, as they stared into the dark, moon lit sky as he whispered stories on the constellations into her ear.
After sitting in this dark corner alone for 5 hours, with her eyes shut, watching her lover before her very eyes. She looked around the room, taking in everything. The dim lighting of the black bodied lamp, casting off a reddish glow with its bright maroon shade. To the large black spider crawling toward her on the brown carpet. Her gaze rests on the spider. In a quiet, mono tone voice she talks to the spider.
"Hi little spider.." in her head, it responded.
"Where are you off to?
She leaned forward slowly, her legs spread out so she could reach further. She slid her hand under the large spider and slid in onto her hand, then leaned back against the wall and lifted her legs back up to meet her chest. For the next few hours, she sat with the spider, talking to it like it were a human.
__________________________________________________________________________
She emailed him one day, in the note she said,
Dear Jacob,
I love you so much. I haven't seen you in so long, and I miss you. I watch you through my window everyday though, and I listen to you as you move through your apartment. Dont worry, we will be together soon. As soon as your psycho girlfriend leaves you alone. She's crazy in love with you Jacob, and she cheats on you. I know you hate her, and you love me, so dont worry, we will find a way to be together. I can show you the world, its wonder and beautiful splendor. Just tell me Jacob, when will you let your heart decide. You opened my eyes, and showed me this new world I have drempt of my whole life. Write me back my love.
Je t'aime.
__________________________________________________________________________
She left him love songs on his answering machine, and slid secret love notes under his door.
Days later, with no shower, no eating, no sleeping; her eyes blood shot, her hair greasy and her clothes smelling of sweat and pee, she stands and looks around the room. Taking the spiders advise, she took a long, hot shower, before she presents herself to the man she loves.
The hot water drips down her back, and the shampoo spreads across her face. When she finishes, she slides on a lose black dress and some Doc Martin black boots. She cuts her hair, evening out the edges, and she puts on some make up, to the point where she looks just perfect. She leaves her house, and leaves some things out for her new spider friend, who she named Alfred.
She went down to Jacobs apartment, but just as she set her hand out to knock, she heard Claire, the girlfriend, telling Jacob how much she loved him. Hatred beamed in her eyes. For the next 11 hours, Claire stayed at Jacobs, and this just made her more angry. Sometime in the middle of the night, she went downstairs and to Claires car, where she slid in the backseat and waited anxiously.
In the morning, around 7:00 am, Claire came down into her car, and slowly drove off. After about 10 minutes, she lunged forward in the backseat and strangled Claire to death. The car swerved out of control and smashed into a tree.
Later that night on the news, it was declared she had lost control of the vehicle for unknown reasons, and had died from suffocation. Jacob was distraught, and didn't know what to do with himself. Weeks later, the notes and messages on his answering machine and emails started flooding in again. He had no idea who it was and it was driving him mad. He even lashed out on a normal girl on the street for smiling at him. He gripped her by the shoulders and shook her, yelling at her that he didn't love her.
He was a wreck, hadn't showered or slept in days. He was determined to find out what happened that morning to Claire. One day, an exact month after the incident, he got a note that read, "We can be together now, I took care of her for you." It was maddening, and he was driven to the point of insanity.
__________________________________________________________________________
Six months passed. She was back to sitting miserably in her poorly lit room with Alfred. Alfred often told her to make another move for Jacob, that it was a normal reaction for him to be upset, having not seen her for so long. So, she decided to visit him again. She got dressed all nice, as she did the other night,only this time, in a slim fitting maroon, velvet dress, and went to the front door of his apartment. She knocked lightly, and as he opened the door, his eyes bloodshot, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him gently. He shoved her off, hard enough so she flew across the hall and slammed her back into the wall. She hit her head, and slid down against the wall. Tears ran down her face.He got ontop of her and began to strangle her. Yelling at her "Why did you love me?! What gave you the idea I loved you back?!" She spoke quietly, short of breath, "Alfred said you loved me too..." He didn't want to kill her, but he was so infuriated, finding it to be this girl he'd only met once in the elevator. The color drained from her face, and her skin got cold. He was crying out now, and neighbors stepped into the hall to watch.
Amelia was declared dead. She was crazy in love, and Jacob was too, with Claire. Jacob was committed into an insane asylum. He stayed there for 6 years, and never ate one pill, but was able to convince his doctor he was cured, and left, still driven mad from the girl he once met in an elevator.
A month after he was released, he killed 3 other woman who tried to make conversation with him in an elevator, and was then committed back to the asylum, only this time, for life.

Chapter One of The Floor you Cant Fall Below

Winter blew in fast this year. Only the intense coldness prospered, it's bitter breeze, and it's intricate paths. The breeze had knocked on the door, blown away the key, and locked me out. I never imagined the day would come. Not anytime soon. But it did come.The day my heart would allow the winters bitter breeze to take the key to my heart and blow it away; the day I need it most. I often find myself wondering why; why the wind chose me, my life, and this day to take my key.
After the loss of my key, one would say I made it my internal obsession to find the who and the why, for I found it to be relatively impossible to salvage whatever was left of my life into anything good. Many people find my obsession to be pointless. I always tell them, if they had gone through what I have and soon after had their key swept away with the simple sweep of a winters breeze, they too would be like me; this to them wouldn't even be enough.
I recently learned something in school that held my interest and fed my internal obsession. Hades, the Greek God of the Underworld, is to blame for the depressing cold days I'm living in. They tell us he kidnapped Persephone and brought her down to his kingdom to announce herself as his queen. That Persephone's mother grew saddened at the loss of her daughter, having to remain in the Underworld for 1/3 of the year, after being deceived into eating one of Hades pomegranates. Legend has it, as I've been told, that the three months of winter is the time of year Persephone's mother is depressed, missing her daughter; but when she comes back for the rest of the year, to be with her mother, it results in a flowers bloom and the shining rays of the sun.
The bags under my eyes grow darker at each passing day. I've found it to be the result of my dreams. Memories of my tragic times in the past year. The death of my dog. I hate the way that sounds, so insignificant, so surreal. His name was Tobi, and he held a nice resemblance to Todo from The Wizard of Oz. His fur was a pale white, with a tan stripe along the middle of his back that faded into the whiteness perfectly. His eyes were dark drown and relatively large. His nose was black and his whiskers short. Tobi was a bit overweight, which made him all the more adorable. His walk was that of a penguin, shifting the weight from one side to the other with each proceeding step. On his belly sat black spots, I like to think of them as freckles or birth marks. To me, this made him real. This made him to be more than some house pet, only living with us to entertain us on those boring days. Only to make us feel as if we've fulfilled our good deed in life by making his life a step better than it could have been otherwise. (When we bought him from the pet store, I was 2 and he was 1, Tobi was sick with ammonia and would have died if it weren't for us.)
Throughout my childhood, and his, we went through everything together. Bad times, like the divorce of mom and dad, to good times, like camping trips to Yogi Bear Jelly Stone Park up in Door County, Wisconsin. So many memories. I never thought such happy days would lead to such painful nights. The memories remain, enthralled in my head. At night, or even when I merely shut me eyes, visions of such memories flash before me. It often feels as if I’m watching a movie, being showed on the inside of my eyelids, for me alone to see.

There I sat, cross legged on my pee stained floor, rummaging through an old suitcase. I removed a small, light brown stuffed dog from the largest pocket. I had gotten it from Wal-Mart a few months after my sister received the same dog for her birthday. I held it close to my chest and hugged it, smelling the old scent of my life. A life I lived, always wishing for more, something better that what I had. A life where Dad was at home cooking dinner each night instead of stuck in a hospital bed, still recovering from numerous surgeries he had encountered in the past few months. I sit cross legged on my pee stained floor, beside my bed. A knock on my door sucks my back into reality.
“Hey...can’t sleep either,” came the quiet voice of my older sister, Crystal, as she slowly walked into my room and sat on my bed, feet hanging off the side. “Nope,” I reply as I stand, stuffed dog still in hand, and sit on the other side of the bed, Tobi sitting between us both.
Crystal has a reddish colored hair, with blond highlights and brown spots emerging at the roots. Her hair is cut short, falling right along her chin, and a few shorter strands falling across her face. Her skin, a pale brown and eyes as deep as mahogany wood. She is 16 years old, two years older than me, and stood about five-foot-four off the ground, and still appeared to be short. She sat on my bed wearing a faded blue pair of pajama pants with purple flowers spread across the fabric and a loose fitting red t-shirt.
“I figure it’s just school nerves, though...I’m not even nervous, it’s only my third year going to this school!”
“Meh, I don't know. I’m not really nervous anymore. I don't care. What’s the worst that can happen,” I shrug and begin stroking Tobi’s back, while Crystal rubs his stomach.
“Hey, Crys, Tobi’s been breathing kind of funny lately..listen,” I said to her. At first I didn’t intend to even mention it, but I figured why not? We had nothing else to say, and neither of us could sleep anyway. This comment led to a few more minutes of silence as she listened to his breathing. I laid by head gently on his stomach to listen a little more closely. His heart was beating faster than normal and he was panting, as if thirsty. Without another word, I stood and retrieved Tobi some water from the kitchen. When I brought it back to him, I set it beside him on my bed and let him drink. He gulped down most of the water that lay in the bowl. When he was done, I set the bowl beside my bed, and as I sat back up I started stroking his back again.
A few minutes pass in silence, with each of us petting Tobi and thinking of the day staring ahead of us. Thinking the only thing we’d endure today would be a few awkward moments of first-day-of-school-jitters. Soon enough, Crystal stood, got a drink from the fridge and went back into her room to try and get a few hours of sleep before school.
I got a drink, then laid back in bed with Tobi and tried to sleep, or at least rest. Still though, I was tossing and turning. I ended up lying on my stomach with my legs open and Tobi laying between them, his head resting on my calf. Within the hour, I was half asleep, but grew uncomfortable. I slid my leg across the bottom of the bed and rolled over to lay on my back. After a few minutes, I realized when I swept my leg across the bed, I had felt something wet. My first intent was to ignore it because I was finally beginning to drift off to sleep and I dreaded the thought of ruining that, but after a second thought, I got out of bed and switched the light on. The brightness burned my eyes as the light flooded into my dark adjusted lids.
I looked down at my bed to find a large wet spot where Tobi was laying an hour prior to this. I ran out of my room and into Crystal’s. Horrible thoughts ran through my head.
“Crystal, I think Tobi peed in my bed...come look,” she rushed out of bed, since Tobi hadn’t peed or pooped in the house for years.
When she got to my room, she told me that when a dogs bladder breaks it usually means they will die. She paused a second to listen to his breathing again. As she soon found, he was still breathing oddly. He slowly stood on the bed, but fell right back down into a laying position. He looked up at me with sad and helpless eyes, then stood again and got ready to jump off the bed. I don't like him jumping because he has weak legs and my floor is slippery, so I wrapped one arm under his belly and my other under his butt; I picked him up and set him down gently on the floor. When he got to the ground, he plopped right down with his legs spread flat. His breathing was still off and at this point he was struggling to stand up. Tears formed in my eyes as I looked at him; I soon broke into sobs. A feeling of fear and sadness rested in my gut. Between sobs, I asked Crystal what we should do. Her eyes grew watery as she stared at him, she shrugged, but instead of releasing her shoulders, she held them up, as if still thinking.
“Well....we could call mom...” the thought lingered around my room, until I realized she was at work. Nothing else had to be said on that.
I looked around the room, taking in each thing around me. The walls, a dark shade of maroon, covered in charmed posters and two anime wall scrolls; a mirror resting in the center of the wall. Then, I looked to my bed, sitting a few inches from the wall with flowery yellow sheets wet with pee and a white comforter crumpled up at the top. Sitting beside my pillows rested my tan stuffed dog I had retrieved from the suitcase earlier in the night. My eyes shot back to Tobi as he attempted to stand, but again, failed. A tear ran down Crystal’s face, and with that, I knew something was really wrong. I pestered her to get the phone and call Dad, and made it very clear that I didn’t care about the irrelevant rules of the hospital. I didn’t care about the calling hours there, we needed to talk to Dad. She called his cell phone, and after he answered, she explained the situation. Dad told her to be brave, and do what she had to do. They hung up the phone, and Dad called our downstairs neighbor, Dawn.
Dawn was a middle aged woman around the age of fifty who stood about five foot four off the ground. She was overweight and often wore tank tops, which often disgusted me because her arms were twice as big as they normally would have been and had stretch marks spread across her arms right below her pits. She had frizzy white hair that usually rested lightly against her back in a loose pony tail and small brown eyes that were covered by thin glasses.
We had gotten to know Dawn a lot better in the past few weeks. She had been driving us over to visit Dad at the Manner Care Nursing Home and at the Alexian Brothers Hospital. About 15 minutes after Dad and Crystal got off the phone, Dawn came up to our apartment and rummaged through our phone book for a 24 hour animal hospital. I stayed in my room with Tobi, even after Crystal went to help Dawn find one. While I was in my room, I slid on my shoes and my black hoodie.
Crystal and Dawn finally found one, Golf Rose Animal Hospital. Dawn went downstairs and got into her turquoise blue van and waited for us to come down with Tobi. I clipped the green leash onto his collar, then wrapped a blue comforter with yellow stars around him. Before we left, Crystal grabbed the only money we had, $200.00, from our small box in the cabinet. As I walked down the stairs, Crystal followed with the directions to the vet and the money in her pocket.
We got into the van; Crystal first, then me. I handed her Tobi, then took the directions from her and handed them to Dawn. We drove. About 1/4 of the way there, I asked Crystal if I could hold Tobi, since I was still crying, she handed him to me and he laid restlessly in my lap. I whispered quietly to him that it would be okay.
As we drove down the street, things felt wrong. I stared out the window, watching things flash by the window as we passed. Everything felt so incredibly surreal. I had driven down Barrington Road thousands of times with Mom and Dad, even at night before. And even though it was 2:30 AM, things were much more different than they had ever been before. Each light along the side of the street held its own, individual glow. The light of each sign was almost enough to enchant me into another world, as long as it wasn’t the one I was living in now. Eventually, we arrived at the Golf Rose Animal Hospital.
The nurse came and took Tobi into a back room, leaving us to sit in the main room, waiting in silence. As we waited, I walked around and looked at brochures, but something about that place felt eerily familiar. Crystal thought so too, and we soon realized it was the same animal hospital we brought my moms cat, Shiva, where she had to be put to sleep, on Crystal’s birthday.
Yelping noises came from one of the back rooms. I almost ran back there, but Crystal told me to stay put. After about 25 minutes, a nurse came over to us and asked us to follow her into a smaller room where we could fill out paperwork and discuss the situation. Crystal and Dawn sat in the two chairs, I stood and leaned against the wall.
As Crystal filled out all the information of Tobi, the nurse began talking. She looked at Dawn as she did so.
“Your dog has a tumor. Right now, we have him hooked up to a machine to help him breathe. He can’t breathe for himself anymore, so we are breathing for him. We gave him a shot to numb the pain, and,” before she could say another word I glared at her with tear filled eyes and said, “It’s my dog, not hers, so would you please stop looking at her!”
The lady looked a little taken aback, and decided to stop talking. She took the information from Crystal when it was all filled out, and went back into another room. Another ten minutes passed before a different nurse came in. She explained it all again. Crystal looked up at her.
“Would it be in his best interest to be put to sleep,” she asked in a serious tone of voice. The lady glanced at me, then turned back to Crystal and nodded. Now, the tears wouldn't hold anymore. My throat tightened and grew hoarse. I ran out of the room and down a very bland hallway, into a nearby bathroom.
When I came back, I went in the back room where Tobi was and went to see him. I stared at him, lying on his side, tongue hanging out, and hooked up to so many machines. I scanned his body, and rested my gaze on a clip attached to his paw. As I got a closer look, I saw a needle was protruding out of the clip and into his small, white paw. I bit my lip very hard, in my attempt to hold the tears back, but it didn’t work; they just kept coming. Crystal stood for a few minutes in silence; I followed her lead. I thought I’d be able to hug him, something, to hold him one last time. Before I knew it, Crystal nodded and said “okay” as if she were done. She began walking out, I followed slowly. Before I left, I turned around and stroked his paw gently, and whispered “I love you.” I walked out, and that was the last time I saw him.

The pain following that morning was incomprehensive. I missed my first day of high school, only to cry and scream the whole day. After I got home from the animal hospital, I laid on the couch, crying, and stayed there for the next six hours, until I finally got the strength to stand up and take a shower.
In the shower, I couldn’t feel the water or the soap or anything else I may have touched. While I stood there, shampooing my hair, I screamed and cried, because I knew it was the first time ever that I had taken a shower knowing Tobi would not be waiting in front of the door when I got out. I knew everything that was to come would be the first time, because I hadn’t ever done anything without Tobi in my life. The first time to sleep, or watch TV.
The rest of the day food never met my lips and I barely drank anything, even though my throat was dry and sour from all the crying. Later that night Crystal was talking to Dad on the phone and she told him what happened. She told me his voice broke and he almost started crying, but was able to hold it in until after he talked to me, knowing I had been crying non-stop for the past 15 hours.
Around 11:00 PM I went into my Dad’s room to sleep because he wasn’t there and I couldn’t even look at my room, let alone sleep in it, without crying. I let Cleo, my other puppy, sleep in there for the next few weeks. Cleo had tan fur, darker than Tobi’s, that was long and dirty. It fell about two inches past her stomach, growing lighter the farther down it went. She was only over one year old and even then, she knew exactly what had happened. I could see the thoughts resting in her large dark brown eyes, covered by strands of fur, the pain she must have felt inside.
In the early hours of the morning I sat in the large, king size bed and began writing in a new spiral I had gotten for school.

Memories
I can feel you in each room
Your presence stays deep within
All the memories we have shared
All the memories we cant begin

And captured in each picture
Is your face, staring back
Every page I turn in this book
Reality is all it lacks

There are so many things I wish to tell you
Like how much I love you, in every way
And that no matter I wont forget you
It's things like this, I'll never get to say

Like no other day
Today was a day I will not ever forget.
It's one of those days you look back at your whole life,
and think of all the little things you could have done differently.
It's one of those days that you know no matter what you changed,
the outcome would be the same.
Yes, it was one of those days.

One of those days that you can't ever stop thinking about,
but no matter how hard you try,
you can't talk about.
When time goes on,
and life continues,
but the pain inside never goes away.
It's one of those days.

I know we have all had one of these days.
I, myself, have had many.
But this one most definitely beats out all of the other days like today.
I think my day beats everyone else's day like today.
I could argue why it does,
but what difference would it really make?
I can't go back in time, and change
all the little things I could do differently that day.
My only option is to go on.
My only problem is, I don't want to.

I looked at the words, so true yet so belittling. It bothered me people would read the words, but never fully feel what I felt as I wrote them. Having finished all I could write for the moment I shut my spiral and tossed it at the end of the bed. I looked around the room, in its darkness and familiar state and felt nothing. Visions of what happened flashed before me, as if haunting me, following me wherever I turned and no matter what I did. Visions I knew would follow me forever. I laid on my side, tears wetting the pillow as I sobbed. Hours past. Morning came, and it was time to get ready for my first day of high school. I wasn’t nervous, just sad.
On the way to school, I started crying in moms car, and could have stayed home, but I knew that would only result in another long day of crying, so I made the hard decision to go through the day.

Eternal Black-Out

The Charmed Ones are having Black Outs at any given time. But when they try to confront Leo about it, hes too busy, doing something else that he refuses to tell them about. If Leo cant get past his secret, will the Charmed Ones end up with an eternal Black Out?


Phoebe threw open the door to P3 and stepped outside.

"What do you want to do tomorrow night, vanquish another demon, or go straight to killing Cole?"

Piper, who was walking a few feet behind her, next to Paige, groaned and rubbed her neck. But before Piper had the chance to comment, her cell phone rang.

"Hello? --- Yeah. --- That'd be great! --- Great. --- Alright, 7:30 tomorrow. ---Alright, bye."

Paige and Phoebe eyed her curiously as they crowded into Pipers jeep.

"That was T.a.T.u.'s manager, they are playing at the club tomorrow. They're coming at 7:30 to practice their preformance a bit."


"Aww, that's awesome! I think I'll make an appearance, I just love that song, um, "How soon is now?" from their CD. I hope they play it..."

Paige could have been talking to a brick wall for all she knew, because after she said that, Phoebe started talking about how hectic her job was lately, and Piper was back on the cell phone.

'-'-'-'
Paige had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but when she awoke, Piper and Phoebe were both gone, most likely at the club. She glanced at the clock, it was 7:45 already. She quickly hopped into the shower, and although she had intended to take a quick one, the hot water streaming down her back must have made the time pass much more quickley than is seemed, because when she got out, the clock read 10:00. T.a.T.u would start preforming now. Paige slipped on a black dress, with a V-neck that ran down to center of her chest. She wrapped a cute gold chocker around her neck and slid on some black high-healed shoes. She grabbed her black purse, then ran out the door.

'-'-'-'
When Paige arrived at P3, everyone was crowded in the parking lot outside. Piper was talking to Darryl, their detective friend. Paige ran to Phoebe.

"What-what the hell happened here?!"

Phoebe spun around to look at Paige. When Paige saw her, she noticed a large cut on the left side of Phoebes forehead.

"Uh, I dont really know. One second, that band was playing, then someone yelled "fire!", then the flames were practically surrounding us, and we just all rushed out of the club."

Paige had this look of horror and complete confusion on her face. She stared at Pheobe, and even though she had a million questions, she couldnt form them into words, and even if she could, she knew Phoebe didnt have the answers.

'-'-'-'
Piper layed, her head burried in her arms while she layed on her stomach, so angry she was almost in tears.

How could this have happened? Who would...and why...?

These thoughts were spreading like wildfire throughout the three Charmed Ones heads. But each question that popped into their head was left unanswered.
Piper had tried calling for Leo a few times tonight, but he never came. Until the early hours of the morning, she called for him, and still, he failed to come and comfort her.

Where could he be? He must sense I'm in pain. He must know Phoebe needs healing...He never fails to answer our calls...unless..No, thats not even possible, I know I've been a bit of a distraction to him lately, but they wouldnt.....they wouldnt ban him from seeing me again...would they?

'-'-'-'
Leo ran to the man and hugged him tightly, he smelled the mans hair and inhaled the scent. When Leo finally pulled away, he stared at this mans light blue eyes, and sandy blond hair. The man stared back at him, smiling widely.

"Leo, its been so long, I've missed you so much..."

This sandy-haired man said, still staring at Leo, in a smooth, yet hoarse voice.

"I know Lance, I've missed you so much also. It's just been so long.."

And with that, they took one last look at eachother, and hugged again. But this time, the hug ended short. Bursting into Leo's head came Phoebes voice, she seemed to be in a sort of panic. He whispered into Lance's ear and said he had to go, but that they'd have to meet again soon. And with that last word, he orbed out.

'-'-'-'

"Phoebe, what is is?"

Leo spat out all too quickley, as if it was such a hassel for him to have to orb all the way to the manor.

Phoebe eyed him angrily and pointed unpatiently at the blood spilling out of her forehead. Leo looked at it, then rushed to her, placed one hand hovering over her head, and with a light glow, the cut healed.

"Phoebe, what happened?"

Leo slowly asked, almost in embarassment that he had made it seem like he was far too busy to have to come and see what she wanted.

Ignoring his question, Phoebe eyed his cautiously.

"Where in hell have you been?!"

He dodged the question in every way he could think of. He wasnt quite sure why he was so nervous to tell her the truth. At her 9th time of asking where he had been, he finally decided he needed to give her some type of explination, it was only fair.

"Phoebe, I'm sorry, for the 10th time, I'll say, I'm really sorry. I was out, helping a charge. She had just gotten done battling a demon, and she needed serious healing. Then I had to go up and talk with the Elders about that fire that happened at the Club. I figured you guys would assume it was supernatural and have me go up and ask them anyway. They told me to have you guys look for scorch marks, and then get back to them. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go see how my wife is doing."

After finishing his comment, he realized how rude it was, and immediately wished he hadn't said it. He made Phoebe think he didn't care about her at all.

'-'-'-'
"Well, I was standing behind the counter, serving drinks...Phoebe was sitting at the counter, trying to call Paige because the band had already started playing...Um, the next thing I know, the club is engulfed in flames, and we were all rushing out of the club...I was trying to grab some things, so Phoebe came back, grabbed my arm, and pulled me out. But people were running ,"

As Piper explained, she paused after these last words, as if ashamed of what happened next.

"...then the crowd ended up knocking Phoebe over, she was on the floor, being trampled. I guess somewhere in there she got that cut on her head..I tried to freeze the club, but I guess my emotions got the best of me, because it didnt work. So, I got on my knees and grabbed Phoebes arm. But she was kicked away from me..I got trampled, and then, somehow, we ended up outside in the parking lot."

When she finished, Leo seemed a bit surprised, but all he did was nod, then stand up from sitting next to her on her bed. He leaned down, and kissed her lightly on her forehead. She looked up at him, a slight grin on her face, as if signaling she wanted to be with him. He shook his head slowly.

"Piper, hunnie, I gotta' go. I'll come back latey today, you need some sleep."

And before she could object, he orbed out, leaving her with a chill in her spine, a thought in her head, and a pain in her heart, all telling her something wasn't right.