For the chapter 3 project, I decided to do my map on the anime Samurai Champloo. This topic was perfect for this chapter’s project since the storyline follows a group of three young adults (Fuu, Mugen, and Jin) on a quest through Japan to find the “samurai who smells of sunflowers.” I wanted to base the map on the opening theme of the anime, so I took a lot of the elements that were shown during it. Some of the notable things I borrowed were the use of contrasting colors (orange and blue) and the concept of the sun. I also took the main theme of the anime, taking the traditional view of Japan and sort of putting a hip-hop spin on it. That is why I have a combination of harsh contrasting colors with the dull, creamy ones.  The images that I decided on for the key were also inspired by the opening theme. Each of the different objects/animals represents each one of the main characters of the anime. In the opening of the anime, it introduces the main characters with a background of a specific animal or object based on their personality. Mugen was introduced with a rooster (because of his rowdiness), Jin was introduced with fish (he is calm and stoic), and Fuu was introduced with sunflowers (she is the main reason why they are searching for the Sunflower Samurai).

For the images I used for this project, I created the map by tracing a screenshot of that area of Japan with a pen tool on illustrator.  I also traced images of the art that used the same style of the sun that I found on DeviantArt and through Google images. I created different images of the sunflowers with the pencil tool.  I found a nice floral background through Google images, used image trace, and used it as a boarder for my textboxes. As for the images I used in the key (the rooster, fish, and sunflower) I found those as well through Google images and used image trace on them. I found a similar font (“Brooklyn Kid”) that was used for the anime through lots of forum hunting and googling. For the way things were positioned, I played a lot with  how things would look if I placed them over a certain image or under and with the layer styles.

For this piece, I feel like my biggest strengths are my use of color to capture the feel of Samurai Champloo and finding the perfect images to use in the map. I guess what I think I could have done better for this piece is not spending so much time tracing with the pen tool things that I did not need for the project  and it might be better if I changed the color of the black dots to some other color so that the viewer could see the fish and rooster better.

Hearing- physical ability to perceive sound.
Listening- giving thought into the message or what has been perceived.

What kind of listeners are there?:
Active listener- listening with a self of purpose
Passive listener – no feed back; listening at your own will

What are the factors that interfere?:
Delivery-the communication or topic being said or how it’s expressed. This might mean the delivery of the speech of conversation is boring.
Message overload-paying attention to details rather than the main idea. Such as looking at a power point instead of listening to the speaker about making money. Your too busy looking at the pictures of money instead.
Perception- the process of assigning meaning to stimuli.
Internal noise-is inner thoughts going in your head, such as “I’m hungry” or “I wish he be quiet”.
External noise-the noises you hear outside of the speaker such as the bird outside chirping.

Why does understanding listening help communication?:
Communication is a virtue to life. You can’t have a valid conversation without listening because if you don’t listen, you can literally have no understanding between each other. If you don’t listen how can you go into a interview and answer questions they ask for. It’s key to listen because you never know what’s important or even could be used in later life. A good example of a the difference between listening and hearing is when you mom is arguing and she ask you did you hear and you not paying attention and you watching tv. We all know you weren’t listening you were hearing her.

How does the picture correspond with the chapters lesson?: 

In the picture above the quote expresses exactly what was stated earlier. Hearing is different from listening. Like the example I gave earlier in the blog, when your parents ask you are you listening or are you hearing them, you always give the answer, “Yes I hear you.” You are hearing her but your not listening to all that is being said. I chose this picture because as a teen I said that several times. It’s common for teens to do this especially when they are in trouble or just don’t want to listen.

How have this chapter helped me understand Communication?:

This chapter helped me understand that its very important to listen in communication. You never know what will be said or what could be important. Listening will make your comprehending and understanding of conversations and all communication better. There isn’t a conversation or communication without a receiver which is the same as the listener.

Hey Ninjas,

Stage 3 was released, and with it came the final boss “Gedou Snake” I decided to make a video of me vsing it. The boss turned out to be way easier than what I expected, so it was a disappointment. Anyways enjoy the video :)

~Waterfall

      Alpha 1 was the first to get up the next day.  He actually wasn’t sure if had been a day, time meant nothing in space.  He slip on his body suit and decided to take a walk.  He needed to clear his mind a little.  Something was nagging at him.  As the ship had moved closer to the wreck he noticed he’d started hearing a low buzz in his head.  No doubt stress he thought.  Before heading out he used his data tablet to send his squad a message to meet him in the mess hall.

Once he stepped outside the cabin, he was absorbed by the bustle of people going about their chores.  He’d forgotten that for some there was an endless amount of work.  Power failures seemed to constantly plague some parts of the ship, since the reactor they were using was a new model.  Technicians were constantly rushing from one section of the ship to the other trying to keep everything running smooth.

Alpha 1 made his way past two engineers who were conversing in the middle of the hall.  One was a rather large man and the other skinny, and both were dressed in the white jump suits of the engineering department.  Alpha 1 was able to make out some of what they were saying.

“—so I tell the guy that there is no way a hole that big could be made by anything in this section of the Rings.”  It was the large one who had spoken

“The Icarus could have been hit in a different sector and drifted there.” the skinny one replied.

They both noticed that Alpha 1 was watching them.  The large one was the first to speak.

“Hey, you’re one of the boys on the retrieval team, right?  We need to talk”

Alpha 1 nodded.  He really wanted to just get on his way, but now that he thought about it, he realized this was an opportunity learn something about his destination.

The skinny engineer motioned with his hand for him to move closer then looked behind him and in hushed tones told him what he knew. “There’s something you should know about that freighter.  Some say it’s haunted.  They say it’s not possible for anyone to still be alive in there, and yet we picked up life signs inside during a scan.  Then we ran a chemical scan and found no oxygen present.  Something isn’t right here.”

Alpha 1 thanked them for the info and continued on his way.  He stopped at the door to the mess hall and scanned his meal pass.  The pass made sure he only got the food he was entitled to, nothing more.  The door slid open and he stepped inside.

The mess hall room was furnished with rows of tables were people were busy eating.  To Alpha 1’s right were the food dispensers and on his left was the Wall of Honor.  It was a monument to those who had built and defended the city that had been built under the Traveler.  The monument consisted of two holo images of soldiers fending off hordes of Fallen and Vex on either side of a massive Traveler made of ivory.  What really took the cake though was not the monument but the massive window looking out towards the rings of Saturn at the far end of the room.  Alpha 1 one stood transfixed by the sight of the debris and somewhere out there was a damaged freighter, with unknown life forms crawling around inside, that he would soon be boarding

Alpha 1 was snapped out of his gazing by the growl of his stomach.  He grabbed a tray and headed to the dispenser which dropped a blob of something he could not identify.  It was best not to try and discern what it was made of.  He then looked around to see if there were any faces he recognized.  He noticed a group of Guardians at a table in a back corner, but he didn’t see anyone he knew.  Alpha 1 decided that he would rather sit on by himself and wait for his squad.  After settling down in a seat he tucked into his meal.

////////////////////////////////////////

It was a while later when the rest of Alpha walk into the mess.  He waved them over to him, and as they set down their trays, he related what the engineers had told him.

“That’s a load of BS if you ask me,” Alpha 3 said as he shoved another fork load of his slop into his mouth. “How can there be life signs without oxygen. Even if they had reserves they would have been used by now, plus the scan would have detected it.”

Alpha 2 put down his fork and looked out the window. “So, what do you make of this chief.”

“I dunno, I guess the scans could be wrong, but I was told they checked everything and found no system errors.  What I don’t get is why they have no vid feeds from the ship.  They have cameras on all vessels that can be accessed from any network.”

Alpha 3 finished his meal and replied, “Maybe the terminals got damaged. I’ve asked around a little and they all say the damage is pretty extensive to the ship.”

“Well we can just blow the brains out of anything hostile on that ship.” And with that Alpha 2 got up and was about to leave when Alpha 1 got a message from command requesting their presence at the armory.

Alpha 1 stood up and the others followed his lead. “Well boys, looks like Christmas came early.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////

Once they reached the armory they had to authorize their visit with another key card.

“Why not just give us one card for everything instead of one for every department?” Alpha 3 muttered.

“Gives the security department something to do.” Replied Alpha 2 as they entered.

Before they could truly get to the armory they had to pass through six stages of decontamination and a security check point.  Alpha team bitched through the whole process. Alpha 2 was the last to finish his pat down, and together they arrived in the white-washed hall of the armory, which was lit by a harsh light from fluorescent ceiling strips.

Standing amongst the racks of weapons and gear was the quartermaster, who was a short, stout Exo by the name of Gray.  He was a bit of an oddity to others of his race in that he was the only Exo with a desk job.  This made him quick to anger.  Alpha made a sport of harassing him.

Alpha 2 nudged Alpha 3 and winked.  Then he shouted “Hey Shorty! Can we get some service over here?”

Gray strode over to Alpha 2, huffing and puffing, and stood before him.  His attempt of intimidation was overshadowed by the fact that he was 5.5 and Alpha 2 was 6.2.  The rest of Alpha busted out laughing as Gray gave Alpha 2 his evil eye.

Alpha 2 began to act indignant by saying, “What’s the matter Gray, are you to good to look me in the eye?”  He then crossed the line by saying,” Are you too high up on your ivory tower?”

Gray moved faster than any normal human being could.  He slammed his fist into Alpha 2’s gut which made him double over.  This allowed Gray to hit him square in the face.  Alpha 2 upper body went back and he landed on his back.  Alpha 1 and 3 were able to restrain Gray, who was screaming profanities, before he could jump on Alpha 2.  The brawl ended when a voice called them to attention.

“What have we here soldier.” A figure standing in the door way asked while pointing his finger in Gray’s direction.

Alpha 1 and 3 released Gray who stood at attention. “Nothing, sir!”

The voice grew stern. “Looks like something to me.  “Why is one of the retrieval laying on the ground?”

Alpha 1 interjected,” We were having a formal discussion, sir.”

The figure stepped into the light and they could now see it was Commander Kravitz.  He walked up to Gray and in hushed tones told him to get lost.  By the time he had turned back to Alpha team, Alpha 2 had been helped to his feet and he was now nursing a bloody nose.  Kravitz took a position in front of Alpha team and let them stand at ease.

“Now men, what I am about to tell you is top secret.  This cannot leave this room.”

Alpha looked around the room for a moment and then asked,” shouldn’t we wait on the Warlock?”

As if on cue, the warlock stepped through the door and joined Alpha.  Kravitz nodded and Alpha 1 knew his question was answered.  Alpha 2 was really starting to get creeped out by him.

“The contents on that ship were mostly insignificant except for one prototype.  Over the years our researchers have developed an EMP.  Now this was no ordinary EMP, it was designed to wipe out the VEX.”

Alpha team looked at each other with shocked expressions and back to Kravitz.

Kravitz went on.” I want that EMP and any research you can find.”

Alpha 3 raised a hand and asked,” What if we find any scientists.”

Kravitz expression became impassive.” Son there are no survivors.  I know that you might have heard the rumors but there is no way anyone could be alive.  You will perhaps receive secondary objectives while on board so prep accordingly.”  He looked at each of them and said,” You have your orders.  Lives depend on that EMP.  We could then focus on wiping out the Cabal and Mars would enter a golden age.  When you’ve collected your gear, meet at the shuttle bay.”  And with that said he left.

Alpha team turned to converse while they left the Warlock to his business.

Alpha 2 was the first to speak.” I can’t believe we have something like that developed.  Where did they get the research and the tech?”

Alpha 3 looked skeptic.” How could they have developed that and not told anyone?”

“It doesn’t matter.  We have our orders now let’s suit up and grab our gear.” Alpha 1 said,” Be sure to take EVA armor and magnetized boots, nothing worse than bouncing around the ship after firing a hand cannon.”

2. At breakfast, Dink tells his story.  What do the people think?

3. What is the most important thing that happened in chapter 3?

Go to Word Central

critters- bugs

pitch-black – very black

sweet racket – sweet sounds

drifted off to sleep – slowly fall asleep

calm down – relax; don’t be scared

everyone dug in – be hungry and eat a lot

smelt bear – smelled bear

nope – no

Click the grizzly bear link and answer the questions below.

Where does a grizzly bear live?

What does it eat?

How much does it weigh?

How long does it live?

What is hibernation?

I want to die and never wake up.

I cannot breathe,

I cannot move,

I cannot tell anyone what is going on.

    All I can do is stand and wait for this moment to pass. I try to breathe, take shallow breaths, but when you are stuck in this kind of panic, breathing is the last thing on your mind.

    After what seems like an eternity, I feel air reach into my lungs. I know the panic is leaving my body. All eyes are still on me. These attacks feel like they will never end, but in reality they are mere seconds long. My senses kick back in and I can hear Dr. Lemons telling me to sit down. I hurry across the room to an empty sofa. This room is too bright. I turn my head down to shield my eyes from the light. I feel like a vampire wanting, needing, to flee from this blinding, white light. The same windows that were so beautiful in his office line the back walls of this room. They are nauseating and I hate them in here. I am extremely uncomfortable and I want to go home.

I hate this place.

I do not want to talk to other people about myself.

I do not want to hear about other people’s pain either.

    I take a moment to look around the room. There are more lemon decorations scattered among the shelves along with inspirational quotes and pictures. I do not know what else I was expecting, this is supposed to be a positive atmosphere for healing or whatever bullshit they what me to believe takes place in this room. There is a huge dry erase board behind Dr. Lemons with a bunch of lecture notes about pain and stress written on it. I am not totally surprised, but if I wanted to learn about stress I could have googled it. There are a few big recliners and two sofas so that we can all sit while he lectures or has group.

I am sure I am going to hate this.

Dr. Lemons speaks,

“Welcome to group therapy, Kaleigh.”

His voice is so calm, so easy to listen to.

She is there in my head.

She wants me to leave.

I do not want to hear her voice right now but lately she has been taking over.

He goes on,

“We do not have much time left, so we will go around the room and tell you about ourselves then, let you tell us your story.”

Get up.

Go.

Get out of this place.

    She is screaming at the top of her lungs and everyone is staring at me. I can tell they know something is wrong but I cannot talk. I cannot even move. I am frozen with fear and nausea. I want to wrap myself up in my arms like a blanket but it does not help. My arms are not big enough to wrap around my tiny body. I feel horrible and numb. The last couple of years have been awful and the last few months have been a living hell.

I hate myself and my life.

I just want it all to go away.

    Rachel is first. She turns her entire body so that it is pointed directly at me. Her long, shiny brown hair falls down around her face and into her lap when she leans over. Her mocha brown eyes glimmer with the faintest hint of tears while she wrings her tiny hands and begins to speak. Her voice is small and breaks when she tries to open her mouth. She wants to tell me her story but is having trouble putting together the words necessary to describe it.

    She has had collapsing lungs since she was twelve. She has not always had pain; in fact, she has not had pain associated with her collapsing lungs until five years ago. When they collapse, she goes to the ER and they reinflate them. But when the pain started, it knocked the breath out of her. Her eyes leave mine and I watch her go to a dark place. I do not know where she is in this moment but she is not with me. She is explaining how horrible this pain is.

She cannot breathe.

    She is literally suffocating from the inside out. Someone is squeezing the life from her but she cannot break free. She cannot scream or beg anyone for help because when she opens her mouth nothing comes out but gasps for air.

It is a sharp, burning pain.

    She does not understand why this is happening to her. She is no longer free; she is a prisoner in her own body. Pain is her jailer. He stands outside her dark prison cell and ridicules her by taking away her air. She is waiting for the day he tells her she has served enough time and she can go home, but that day will never come. Pain is an evil monster who wants to keep her captive forever so she sits and waits. She wonders why nobody notices she is missing. Why doesn’t anyone come looking for her? Tears flood her vision. Emotion grows in my throat. I try to push it down but I cannot. This beautiful woman is lost and alone. Her eyes are cold and cannot find anyone to help her break free from this horrible pain that has condemned her to a life of hell. I want to tell her I understand.

I am in that hell.

My cell is right next to hers.

That same jailer mocks my every move.

But I cannot.

I just sit and watch her slip into her darkness.

    The room falls silent as she sobs quietly to herself. Dr. Lemons allows her to cry. Everyone allows her to cry. I do not know how to allow myself to cry so I push it down. It hurts. My stomach is turning over and over. She understands this pain. She has felt this darkness. I want to cry with her but I cannot. I want to have this strength she has but how do I find the courage. She is brave and beautiful. This moment awakens something deep inside my soul.

My mind is quiet for the first time in a long time.

    My eyes shift to the woman speaking now. Celene. Her dark, almost black, hair falls into her face. She rarely looks up when she talks, but when she does; her dark eyes are filled with tears as she looks through me. She is looking for something to ease the pain and suffering she is experiencing but she will not find it.

I have not found it.

    She hunches over, wraps her body into herself and takes a deep breath. She looks like a child, lost, unsure of where to go. Her voice is soft and quiet but catches when she tries to speak.

    She is explaining she has had her pain for eight months. She went to the dentist for a root canal, standard procedure, but when he shot her gums with numbing solution, she experienced pain. They did not think anything of it until it would not go away for weeks after the procedure. They tried to do surgeries to fix it to no avail. She has had pain that feels like electric shocks in her jaw since then. She stops. She cannot go on. I watch her softly touch her cheek and wince in pain. Tears flow down her face and her shoulders shudder.

Shocks.

    Every few seconds, sometimes every second, sometimes every minute, but the worst part about the pain is the unknown. The pain leaves her unaware of when it will come. It sneaks up on her in the shadows then breaks her down into submission.

She is locked away in our hell.

    The jailer is standing outside her cell, smiling, teasing her. Pain thinks it is funny to taunt the person in whom it resides, but when you look in the eyes of someone with chronic pain, and you see the tears roll down their face, it is a very disheartening expression. She weeps. Her entire body shakes as she clutches her jaw. I wish I could scream at this asshole that holds us captive. I want to break free from his prison and let all of these wonderful, broken women free. But I cannot because I am broken. I am in that jail and I am stuck as well.

My mind races.

How could I ever think I was alone?

    These women are lost, abandoned, broken and bruised. They know my agony. They could recite my pain word for word, yet I thought I was completely forsaken in this world. Pain has a warped way of making us feel that way. I know that feeling more than any other feeling I have ever experienced in my life.

    As I get lost in my thoughts I am drawn back to the circle of women by a sweet southern voice. I look up to see a petite, middle-aged woman speaking in a long drawl. It grabs my attention immediately. She has been examining her left leg which has a long, deep scar etched into her otherwise perfect skin. Her shoulder length blonde hair, which she twists around her fingers, is perfectly dyed and cut. She looks up at me and I see her beautiful ice, blue eyes which glisten with tears. It is as if I am looking into the clearest ocean I have ever seen. She tries to reposition herself on the couch but her leg causes too much pain and she has second thoughts about moving at all. She holds her breath as she picks up her bottom half by her fists then turns so that she is facing me and carefully sets herself back down. I hear her release her breath. I realize I was holding my breath too, and let out a sigh of relief that she is okay. She looks up at me and I notice she is not wearing any make-up, not one trace. She does not need any. Her face is blemish free and beautiful. Her pear shaped body seems as though she would topple over from her huge bust but somehow it fits with her face.

    Theresa begins describing her fall nine years ago. I watch her ocean blue eyes change, as if storm clouds are rolling in her mind. Her eyes drop to her small hands which she studies intently.

    She used to love her job. Real estate was her life. She was at the top of her game and everyone knew who to go to if they wanted their house sold in a heartbeat. All at once everything came to a halt when she went crashing down a flight of stairs and tore muscles she did not know existed in her leg. Bed rest is not an option for someone as outgoing as she is. How does anyone expect her to make money or support her children? She is a single mom and now her life is shattered, just like her leg. It was supposed to heal with time, but it only got worse. She could no longer work her regular hours so she cut back. Cutting back turned into a few days a week which turned into taking a leave of absence. She could no longer work. Her love life was not any easier. How was she supposed to have a relationship when he did not understand the violent, shooting pain she was experiencing constantly?

No one understands the pain.

She sought help from doctor after doctor, pain rehabilitation clinics, physical therapy; what she would not give for a normal life.

She sits in our prison and questions everything. Pain has robbed her of all she once had.

He stole her life,

Her freedom,

And her movement.

She screams at night because she does not understand why the pain stayed.

He refuses to leave her alone.

    Why did a simple fall cause so much misery for so many years? She tries to lean on God but he does not have the answers. She does not know if he exists in this hell. She prays in this dark, cold place but will he ever find her here?

Our jailer scoffs at her prayers.

    He knows she is doomed to a life of misery and failures. She is falling out of grace and into his darkness. He is counting on it. She wants to escape but she is hopeless. She is giving into his banter because she feels she has no other choice.

    I watch her eyes which are now filled with dark, cloudy tears. They are no longer blue, the color has been drained from them and the pain has taken over. The storm has come and it is washing her away. She is lost at sea and there is no hope for me or anyone else to save her.

He has her trapped.

I want to reach out to her,

But she is too far away.

I cannot swim fast enough.

The waves are too fierce and she is being tossed around on the ocean like a buoy without an anchor.

    As I am watching the waves crash in her eyes, the next woman begins to speak. My emotions are frayed. I do not know how much more I can listen to without being completely torn apart.

    She says her name is Diane. I watch her rock back and forth in a red easy chair as she clutches her knee brace and winces in pain. Her shoulder length brown hair sways with the movement of the chair. I notice her warped hands which she very purposefully places in her lap. She looks at the woman sitting next to her who nods as if to nonverbally communicate, “You can do this.” I watch her and see a look of admiration radiate in her eyes. She trusts the people sharing this room with her, but when her eyes meet mine, that look changes into something else.

Fear.

She does not trust me.

    She describes her pain in numbers, surgeries, broken bones and degenerative discs; but it all sounds like too much for one person to endure. Her face twists into a look of pure rage, but when she begins talking about how much she used to love running marathons, a smile wraps around her mouth and washes over her entire body. I watch her run out of this room and into that place where she is calm and free.

    She is running with the wind in her hair, no broken bones, knee braces or pain. She can feel the pavement under her feet. Her heart is racing from the miles she has already run but she wants more.

The feeling is exhilarating.

    She is back to a life free of burdens or guilt. She wants to stay in this moment, relish it, but just as suddenly as it began, it ends. A flash of defeat crosses her face. She never knew what defeat felt like until pain stepped into her life.

    She stops rocking in the chair and puts her head in her hands. Her broken body begins to shake violently. She does not feel the wind, pavement, or exhilaration anymore. Pain has taken that from her. Pain is driving and she is in the trunk screaming at the top of her lungs, but no one knows she is there. The world continues living while she is dying.

She is consumed in pain and anguish.

    She shakes her head and winces again, but this time it is not the physical pain she experiencing. She is broken in ways most people never have to think about. She has tried to put all the pieces back together but some are missing now. She stares at the floor as the woman sitting next to her reaches out and touches her back. I can see her shoulders drop and her body gives in.

She has nothing left.

She knows this prison.

She is being held captive there by the same jailer.

    Pain is an evil, torturous beast. She has been searching for the way out but he knows she will not find it. He has taken everything and everyone that meant anything to her so that she feels completely isolated. She does not know that even though she thinks she is alone in his hell, we are all there. We are searching for answers and ways to escape but we are lost souls and we do not have the answers.

    The woman sitting next to Diane is speaking softly into her ear. She is caressing Diane’s back, trying to ease her suffering. Diane looks up at her with an expression of pure adoration. Then I see something that takes me be complete surprise. Diane reaches out and grabs the woman around her neck and holds on for dear life. They stay like this for a few minutes in a silent room.

I am stunned.

    These women have a bond that no one can break, not even pain. Pain can keep them in our prison but they have found each other there. They are determined to find a way out of his hell even if it kills them. I want her to hold me like she is holding Diane. I want her to find me in this hell so we can beat our pain together.

I feel so lost and alone,

If only we could find each other in this darkness…

    They finally break free and the last woman turns to me. I gasp under my breath. There is something about this older woman that draws me to her from across the room. I immediately felt it when she looked at me. Her dark blue eyes pierced straight into my soul and it took my breath away.

She sees me,

For who I am,

Nothing more,

Nothing less.

    No one has ever made me feel like it is okay to be who I really am. I feel like I have known her my whole life without speaking a word. I understand why Diane adores her. I want to walk over, sit next to her and let it seep into my skin; whatever “it” is.

    She shifts in her recliner as if every bone in her body hurts and I can tell by the grimace on her face that she is in pain. With every movement she makes it seems like her frail body might break. She takes her time gathering her thoughts and I can almost see them churning in her brain. She looks down at her old, bony hands and sighs. She uncrosses her legs and folds her hands in her lap. As she leans over I notice her short, salt and pepper hair that looks perfect on her tiny frame. She takes a deep breath and looks up at me. She straightens her back and holds her head high like a majestic lion.

This is what I am feeling.

    Here is a woman who has been beaten by pain, yet holds her head up with pride and prestige. She is not ready to give in; she wants to fight for her life. Her voice is low and husky. She introduces herself as Kay and begins to talk about her pain. I watch her as she glances down at her hands and clears her throat every once in a while. When she looks up and her eyes meet mine, I am awestruck at how sturdy and sure they are. She never wavers when she speaks about the abuse, pain and suffering that have ruled her entire life.

    Her eyes never leave mine but a look of defiance and rebellion is rooted in them as if she has had to learn this expression in order to survive.

She is in our same prison,

But she is on a crusade.

She has been searching for us for years.

She is the oldest of the women in our group and she is different. She knows the monster that is holding us captive and she is ready to break free.

She is at war for her life,

For all of our lives.

    She has too much fight left; too much dignity to slip into his darkness. As she talks about her past and how the abuse of her father, then her husband, led her to depression, I see a flicker of rage in her usually calm blue eyes. Her life did not get any better from that point. A brutal car wreck left her with chronic back and neck pain, even with the numerous reconstructive surgeries. The fibromyalgia and many rotator cuff problems came with age and her marriage has always struggled. At this point I see a twitch in her jaw. There is something about her husband that makes her uncomfortable, something other than the abuse. This strong, regal looking woman is at battle with herself but no tears come to her eyes. There is too much pride instilled in her to allow emotions to escape. Her shoulders sag a little, a sigh is released then I am given a tight lipped smile. She is done. That is all the emotion she will give anyone.

I am exhausted.

    There is so much emotion I am experiencing from these women. They are stuck in the depths of my same hell waiting to be rescued. I want to tell them my story, my secrets, my darkness but I am scared of their rejection. I can feel their eyes on me and I know it is my turn to speak. I feel my tiny body take a deep breath and I open my eyes to look at the women who I will share this room with for the next few months. I begin to shed some light on how I wound up in this hell hole of a place.

Searching for answers,

To why I am stuck.

In the deepest,

Darkest vortex,

Unsure of what comes next.

    I tell them my name, Kaleigh; I know they want a short story so I try to keep it simple. I took a job right out of college at a lab. I am fascinated by chemistry so a clinical laboratory scientist opening seemed fitting. When they called and told me I got the job I was stunned. In this economy I did not think I was going to make it. During orientation I was told I had to get a Hepatitis-B vaccine in order to work around contaminated blood. I figured if children receive this vaccine with no problems, I should be fine getting it. I am not a fan of preventative medicine. I do not get sick often so there is no need for me to get vaccines, but if I needed to get this vaccine to work, I would do it. The shot was given to me in a series of three. After I got the second shot I started experiencing sharp, stabbing sensations in my feet. I chalked it up to being on my feet eight hours a day in the lab; that made sense to me and everyone else I told. They were hardasses at my work and pushed me to not take breaks, work overtime and take on more work than I should have. I have always been an overachiever and this job was not unlike anything else I have ever done in my life. I was not eating, drinking or sleeping well. The pain started to spread up my legs within a day. I told myself it was growing pains. I know this sounds insane to most people but I did not want anything serious to be wrong with me when I had just gotten a “big girl” job. Besides that, my mother was pushing me to go above and beyond at work too.

    Within three days of receiving the second shot the pain had spread from my feet, up my legs and into my lower back. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life.

The burning, shooting, stabbing pain would not subside.

Nothing I did eased the nails digging into my feet,

The shocks shooting up my legs,

And the aches in my back.

    I could not walk without grimacing. After a week of telling myself it would go away I went to a physician, who was convinced it was Lyme’s Disease. Doubtful. They ran every blood test imaginable, admitted me to the hospital for four days, and then sent me home. Nothing. Because they could not figure it out, and doctors need a name to a pain, they sent me home with a bullshit diagnosis of Transverse Myelitis. This meant absolutely nothing to me because nothing they did worked. After many experimental pills, acupuncture, chiropractors and doctors later; my body was more screwed up than ever. I was a fucking experiment in itself. I do not think anyone even believed I had pain.

I looked fine on the outside,

So who could blame them?

I shut down.

    Fast forward a year and a half later and I still have the same pain magnified by a billion. Nobody cares, wants to help, and I have been sinking into a depression so dark and twisted it is eating at me from the inside out. I used to have a bright future, “Scientist cures cancer!” Now I have my suicide planned out to every detail; where, when and how I will do it.

How did my life get to this point?

    The worst part about my pain was going to work and having people tell you to shut up, it is in your head or you are lying. No one believed me and after a while they got sick of hearing it. They thought it was an excuse to get out of work. If they only knew how badly I wanted the pain to leave my body so I could succeed at my career.

I felt so alone, so isolated, so defeated.

I have never felt so lost in my life.

    My mom got so sick of me she took me to the Mayo Clinic. Almost every woman in this room has been there and now they are here. It did not work for them and it sure as fuck did not work for me. They made me feel like I was a lunatic. I walked around that maze like a zombie with my head down, wondering if the best doctors in the world were going to fix me. They did not.

    I look down at my hands, now I know why everyone looks down at their hands while they are speaking. It is easier to escape your surroundings when you can focus on something other than the people in this room. The pain envelops me. Pain has broken me down so that I cannot even speak. I am numb. I do not even want to move.

He knows he has me trapped.

He does not even have to lock my cell anymore,

I will stay here in this hell because where else do I have to go?

This place is comfortable now.

    No one in my life gives a fuck about me. They do not want me to exist and if they say they do they are lying. I am a miserable waste of life. I need to die right here, right now. I wish I could cry but there is no emotion in this hollow body of mine. I am a ball of anger, twisted and ready to spring on anyone that comes close to me. I do not want to be touched or talked to. These women may understand, they may be in my hell, but they cannot release me.

I am hopeless.

    I put my arms around my shoulders and hug myself. I wish I could feel something from this. My long blonde hair falls down around my hollowed out cheeks. My blue eyes that used to be so full of life now brim with anger and rage. That is the only emotion I feel. My body begins to shake. I am freezing and my teeth chatter.     

    Then a moment that is burned into my memory occurs like a slideshow, picture after picture. Time slows down and I watch it unfold.

    Rachel gets up and walks across the room. She sits on the sofa next to me and wraps her arms around me tighter than anyone has ever held me in my life. I can feel her heart beat against my chest. I have spent my life running from this type of affection but right here, right now, I do not ever want to be released from this embrace.

    I swallow hard and she whispers in my ear, “It is okay Kaleigh; you are in a safe place. I have got you and I will not let you go.”

    For the first time in years, I feel emotion wells in my eyes. I raise my face to meet hers and years of heartache, sorrow and loss bursts forth from somewhere deep inside. I can feel the blood begin to course through my veins. My cheeks flush with color and tears start to pour down my cheeks. My own heartbeat is in my ears and I cannot hear anything, but nothing else matters. I feel my body begin to shake violently as I fall limp in her arms.

My fellow inmate has found me in our prison,

And she will not lose me.

We are not free,

But I am no longer alone.

    The girl in my head tries to speak but she has nothing to say. She is standing in the shadows of my mind, her dark eyes brooding with anger and rage. She has no words for me. Fury fills her body and she looks as though she will spontaneously combust in this instant. I want her to disappear forever but I know one warm embrace will not be the thing that rids her of my body and mind. This is the beginning of my journey and it will be long but it gives me hope.

At last,

A calm serenity

Sweeps over my body

For a moment.

Then,

It is gone.

Just as quickly

As it came.

Later that same evening, when the sun was on its way down, I was on my way to that interview at the Mausoleum. The dream I’d had before still lingered in my head, making me feel uneasy. Again and again I had to tell myself that it was all in the past now, that we didn’t live in Victorian London anymore and there was no way the little witch Meg could find us. Instead I tried to focus how beautiful it was out there. With all the other troubles swirling around in my head, the heavy rain pouring down over me seemed like the least of my problems, and was surprisingly easy to ignore. Twinbrook may seem like a boring little town, but there has not ever been a place that I could call more home than there. The little suburban town was simply amazingly cozy. It wasn’t like I got out much, but when I did, I was almost always glad for it. Even if it was raining.

A chilly breeze ruffled my hair and a thick fog crept like a giant monster over the graveyard as entered. I liked the graveyard too… it was almost as cozy as the town itself. Maybe getting a job here hadn’t been such a terrible idea after all.

The interview was quick and there really wasn’t anything special about it. However, I don’t think the man interviewing me thought I was right for this job… Or any job at all, for that matter. To be honest, I believe the only reason I actually got the job was because no one else showed up for the interview, and they were desperate for people.

When I exited, the full moon was high up on the evening sky, looming down over Twinbrook and glowing beautifully strangely, like it always did. For some reason, the full moon always scared me slightly. I wasn’t even sure why. It felt like the moon, especially when it was full, had some amazing power over all living things. Of course, it did, but not just in a scientific way. I mean, it felt like there was something magical about it as well. Either that, or it was simply just immensely beautiful.

On my way home, I suddenly stopped and tensed. Behind me there was a kind of gurgling, groaning sound. A chill went down my spine and I just stood there for a moment- listening, before I slowly turned around. As soon as I realized it had just been a zombie- and a ugly one too it: with her long gray hair and plumb figure (she kind of reminded me of Sophia, weren’t it for the green skin and crocked nose). Of course, Zombies eat people and are walking dead, but they’re so stupid and slow, they can’t even be considered a real threat. Not unless there are a lot of them. But there was just one, so really I had nothing to fear. If I could have decided, I would have just written the zombies off the script. They’re not worth the nuisance they cause… although, of course… I do find them somewhat cute.

Somewhere along the way, I also found a human who was all alone. I was so hungry, I simply couldn’t resist hypnotizing him and then feeding. I didn’t kill him, though, because I simply didn’t do it anymore. Also, he tasted awful. Really, never before had I tasted such sour blood. Still today, I shudder of just thinking about it.

***

The rest of the evening I spent in my atelier, painting. Painting always made me happy- put me in a calm state of mind, and I’d heard quite a few times that I was rather good at it. Yes, painting is my passion.

***

As I walked through the corridor next morning (my morning, humans afternoon), I found Ophelia playing her guitar. I hadn’t even known she could play the guitar, but she’d always been quite the musical talent. Not like me at all. I couldn’t even hold a tone if I tried with all my might. When she noticed me, she paused and glanced up, a slight smirk on her lips. She placed down the guitar and then walked over to me.

“Good morning, Clarykins,” she said cheerfully, and I almost expected her to pinch my cheek, but she wasn’t that much like our dearest aunt had been, when sne was still alive. Luckily.

“Uhhh… good morning,” I mumbled blearily, forcing a weak smile and stifling a yawn. I was still tired, as I usually got up even later than this. However, since I was supposed to start working now, Sophia had insisted I revamp my sleeping schedule a bit.

“I know exactly what the two of us are going to do today!” she mused, leaning slightly closer to me, “there is an autumn festival going on in town,” she made a dramatic pause, “I’ll take you there!” a big grin was now plastered on her face.

I blinked. “A festival? Really?” I asked slowly and sighed, “I really don’t want to go there,” I said vaguely, “too many people.”

She looked disappointed, “Awwww… you’re such a killjoy! Come on, Clarence! We have to do soooooooomething together, and unless you want it to be hu-“

I held up a hand. “Okay, okay… I go with you to the festival. Just please don’t bring the hunting up again,” I muttered and then stalked off, towards the bathroom. From the corner of my eyes I could see her grin triumphantly.

“Yaaaay! We’re going to have so much fun!” she cheered.

***

So, that was how I ended up going to the festival with my sister. At first, she insisted on we dress up for it, but I managed to convince her not to, as it wasn’t Halloween yet. So we went without costumes- which was a relief. Seriously? it would have been humiliating. And, if anyone questioned us going without, we could always claim to be dressed up as vampires.

However much I may regret to admit it, I actually had a lot of fun there with Ophelia. Well, if you don’t count the fact that she actually won every game we played. Then again, I was used to it. It always seemed like Ophelia was simply the lucky one in the family. Lucky, and most skilled one, for that matter. Sometimes it wasn’t any fun being the younger brother.

The evening was great, until suddenly something felt very wrong. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but everything just wasn’t right. A chill ran down my spine and the smell of death filed the air. The scent was so strong, I thought I might faint. I did wonder where it was coming from. I froze. Suddenly someone was speaking behind me. His voice was dark and raspy, and I knew it well.

“Good evening…”

It was no surprise that when the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art offered to build a new Fire Station in order to take over Fire Station 1 on Howard Street to expand its current museum, Serious would get involved. What people did not expect was Serious purchased the building next to the old Fire House and gift it to the African-American Fire Fighters Association to house their offices and to make a museum of memorabilia honoring San Francisco’s Finest African-American Firefighters. His involvement had been top-secret. Several months had passed since he had instructed his broker in New York to make the purchase of this building on his behalf and his architects and construction crew had been quite busy ever since. He never told Maxima about this purchase because he wanted to surprise her and today they would share this experience together.

Serious’ Town Car arrived at Maxima’s office and Cassidy called upstairs to let Maxima know that they were downstairs waiting in the car to see a piece of property.

“I’ll be right down,” Maxima said, as she grabbed her coral blazer and smoothed it over her ivory silk chemise. Her straight black pencil skirt showed off her vivacious curves and accentuated her rear end. Her three-inch Enzo two-toned ivory and black sling back spectator pumps clicked quickly across the hardwood floors of her office.

Christian looked at her from head to toe and said, “Work it Max — you are FIERCE girl!” as laughter erupted in the office.

She did a small curtsy as she grabbed her phone off the charger and said, “Thank you dear! Time for Maxiegirl to bring home the money. I am going to look at a property with Mr. Kwalib.”

Christian rushed to meet her at the door to open it and whispered in her ear, “He won’t know what hit him. Don’t hurt him Hammer!”

Maxima let out a huge laugh, did her supermodel walk out the door and pranced her way to meet Serious at his car.

***

Cassidy opened the door to the Town Car and let herself out when she saw Maxima. Maxima was surprised because she thought Cassidy would be coming with them and frankly, she was feeling a little afraid to be alone with Serious. She had been very clear that their kiss was one shared by old lovers and it would not happen again because they were both very married! But one thing she knew about Serious was when he wanted something or someone — he would not stop until he got it.

Serious extended his hand to Maxima to help her into the car. His eyes stared at her long lean legs and the silhouette of her breasts through her blouse. He looked at her cafe au latte creole coloured skin, which was free from blemishes or wrinkles and she was more stunning than even he had remembered. As she sat in the car the smell of her perfume was intoxicating, he struggled to keep his breathing under control as his pulse leapt from deep within. His fingers gently intertwined with hers and he gently laid their joined hands in her lap. She smiled at him a loving but protective smile and he finally said, Hey Max. How are you doing today Baby?”

Hearing him call her baby brought back old feelings and made her feel vulnerable. It made her remember a time when they were young and madly in love as if it were yesterday.

Gumawa nga ako ng listahan kung bakit hindi pwede.

1. May iba siyang gusto.

2. Bawal akong magkarelasyon. (Strict ang parents ko.)

3. Nag-promise kami sa isa’t isa na friends lang talaga. Period.

Kinabisado ko yang tatlong yan at tinanim sa puso’t isip ko. Sinubukan kong ibaling sa iba yung atensyon ko. May pagkakataon din na iniiwasan kong magkasama kami ulit ng kaming dalawa lang.

Kakagaling lang namin ng ibang kaklase ko sa isang school na medyo may kalayuan sa school namin. May seminar kasi, pero kailangan pa naming bumalik sa school namin pagkatapos. Hassle at haggard, pero masaya naman.

Lunch break na namin nang makabalik kami sa school. Ako, bilang hindi sanay sa mga mahahabang biyahe, ay nanahimik lang sa isang tabi. Wala na rin akong ganang kumain. Gusto ko nalang matulog. Ilalapat ko na sana yung ulo ko sa may desk nang may biglang sumalat sa leeg ko.

“Medyo mainit ka ata ah. Tapos ang tamlay mo pa.” Umupo si Kean sa bakenteng upuan sa kanan ko.

“Nahihilo lang ako. Hindi ako sanay sa mahahabang biyahe eh. Tapos kailangan pang bumalik sa school,” mahinang sabi ko. Yumuko na ko, pero di pa naman ako tulog.

Aaminin ko, kinilig ako sa ginawa niya. Kanina niya pa pala nakikitang matamlay ako. Kaso di ba sabi ko nga kakalimutan ko na yung nararamdaman ko para sa kanya?

Pahirap naman ‘tong Kean na ‘to oh.

“Kumain ka na ba?” Tanong niya.

“Hindi pa. Ayoko pa, nasusuka kasi ako.”

“Eh may klase pa tayo mamaya. Malilipasan ka niyan. Gusto mong pumunta sa clinic?”

ASDFGHJKL. Someone help! Mababaliw ako kapag nagpatuloy ‘to. Di ko kakayanin ang mga inaakto ni Kean. Ayokong umasa. Mahirap. Masakit.

“Best? Okay ka lang ba?” Si Chloe.

Thank you Lord!

Umupo naman si Chloe sa bakanteng upuan sa kaliwa ko naman.

“Yep. Iidlip lang ako. Mga fifteen minutes lang. Pakigising nalang ako, ha? Alam mo namang mantika ako. Hehe.”

“Huwag mong hayaang matulog si Georgina, Chloe. Hindi pa ‘yan kumakain,” sabad ni Kean. “Gusto mo ba ng noodles? Ibibili kita sa canteen.”

“Ay, ang sweet naman ni Kean! Gusto mo, best?”

Huwag, Chloe. Huwaaaaaag!

“Ayoko. Kakain ako mamaya pagkagising ko. Salamat nalang Kean,” tanggi ko.

“O sige. Mauna na kong kumain sayo, best ha?” Si Chloe.

“Yeah, sure.”

Pinikit ko na yung mata ko. Magulo man yung buhok ko, di ko na ininda. Matutulog lang di naman ako. Mukha siguro akong si Sadako nang mga oras na iyon.

Naramdaman kong tumayo si Chloe at umalis. Hindi ko alam kung si Kean din umalis na. Pagod na kasi talaga ko. Malapit na kong makatulog nang maramdaman kong may humahaplos sa buhok ko. Hinawi niya yung mga nakatakip sa mukha ko at inipit yun sa gilid ng tainga ko. Pinasadahan niya ng daliri niya yung buhok ko, parang yung ginagawa sakin ng Mama ko noong bata ako para patulugin niya ako.

Hindi ko alam kung panaginip ko na iyon o totoong nangyari. Basta ang alam ko, nakangiti ako nang magising ako.

At isang tao lang ang posibleng gumawa noon sa akin.

Pero wait. Paano ko na makakalimutan ang feelings ko kung ganito?

Bahala na.

—-

Someone said that if what you feel for a person is just like a, say, “happy crush,” you can trash it easily. I’m planning to do it with my supposed feelings for Kean. For one, I can see how desperate he is to win Jeanne’s heart and I don’t plan to compete with a person he truly loves.

I even made a mental list of the “reasons why I should fall for him.”

1. He’s madly in love with someone else.
2. I can’t go into a relationship yet. (My parents are strict. Hehe)
3. We made an unwritten promise that we are just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

I memorized that list by heart (and by mind). I tried to look at any other guy except Kean. I focused on my studies just to not have the leisure of thinking about him. I even tried to avoid being with him.

My classmates and I just came back from another school that’s relatively distant from ours. We are the chosen delegates from our school to a half-day seminar, and yet we still have to go back to school afterwards. It was tiring, yet fun at the same time.

It was already lunch break when we came back to school. I’m not really used to travel in long distances without rest, so it really took a toll on me. I just sat in a corner and kept quiet. I decided to take a power nap before classes resume. I was bout to lay my head on my armchair’s desk when someone placed his or her hand on my neck, as if trying to see whether I have fever or not.

“I think you’re quite sick. You don’t look really well.” Kean sat on the empty chair on my right.

“Nah, just feeling dizzy. I’m not used to long travels like that. Plus we still have to go back to school. Really tiring,” I said softly. I laid my head on my desk, but I’m not yet going to doze off.

Okay, I admit I appreciate what he just said. He noticed that I’m sick when nobody else cares. But, what will happen on my duty to forget how I feel for him?

Kean’s making it hard for me, you know.

“Have you eaten?” He asked.

“Not yet. I don’t have the appetite; I’ll just vomit it if I force myself to eat.”

“But we still have class later on. Don’t skip meals, it’s bad for you. Do you want me to accompany you to the clinic?”

ASDFGHJKL. Someone help! I’ll probably get crazy if Kean will continue to act like this. I don’t want to get my hopes up. It’s hard. And painful.

“Best? Are you okay?” It’s Chloe.

Thank you Lord!

Chloe and I used to call each other “best” or “bestie.” It’s some kind of endearment between the two of us.

Chloe sat on the empty chair on my left.

“Yeah. I’d just take a nap. Fifteen minutes. Just wake me up, okay? You know how much I love being a sleepyhead.”

“Don’t let Georgina sleep, Chloe. She hasn’t eaten anything yet,” Kean said. “Do you want some soup? I’d buy some for you.”

“Aw, Kean is so sweet! DO you want soup, best?”

No, Chloe, NOOOOOO!

“No, thanks. I’d just eat after I wake up. Thank you, Kean,” I refused.

“Okaaaay. I’m gonna go eat my lunch, best.”

“Sure, sure.”

I closed my eyes. I ignored the fat that because of how my hair was tossed in all directions, I might have looked like Sadako. Never mind, I’m just going to sleep anyway.

I felt Chloe move and walk away. I don’t know if Kean did the same. I’m really tired that time. I’m starting to drift off when I felt someone touch my hair gently. He brushed my hair covering my face and put it at the back of my ears. He run his fingers through my hair, just like how my mother did it when he was trying to make me sleep when I was a child.

He. I was sure, or maybe not, because the one who did it was on my right.

I don’t know if it was just a dream or it was real. One thing was sure though: I was smiling when I woke up.

But wait. How can I ever forget my feelings if he continues to be like this?

Ah, just go with the flow.

Whining the statement out for the third time in ten minutes, Kaiden groaned and paused the television before flopping backwards on the couch he was sitting on. Thanks to his injury Trenton had put him on leave from fighting and training. All he was allowed to do was walking on the treadmill and watching fight tapes while the rest of the group got to go about their normal training regime.

“I don’t need my arm to practice my kicks or to run! Just sitting here is driving me crazy!”

“Kai, seriously? It’s been 2 hours.” Akai could not help but laugh at his friends antics. The other man was seriously not good at sitting still and had to much energy to be confined to the private training room at the back of the Cage.

“Two hours that I’m going to be repeating six hours a day for a week!”

“Two weeks if you keep it up, shit head. Now get back to watching those videos,” they heard Trenton yell from the next room over where the (fight levels) held their training and workout sessions.

Kaiden and Akai silently looked at each other. Akai tipped his head towards the direction his adoptive fathers voice had come from and arched one brow up in askance. Kaiden immediately nodded and held up his hand, fingers curled into a fist. Steadily he flicked one finger after the other up and when he held three up both boys yelled out, “Yes dad!”

The expected curse and threats of bodily damage if they ever called him that came flying through loud enough it was hard to believe their was a wall separating them from the man. This, of course, caused both boys to erupt into laughter as Akai joined Kaiden on the couch and they obediently turned the video back on so they could study them.

The silent study of the fighters on the film lasted for an impressive ten minutes before Kaiden started fidgeting again. “Stupid fucking Jeremy and his stupid fucking knife.” A pout formed on his lips as he scratched lightly at the bandage surrounding his upper arm and shoulder.

One of the good things about the twist the fight had taken was that Jeremy had been suspended from the Cage for a month and threatened with a permanent bad if he ever tried anything like that again, no matter who his sponsor was. Yes, they might be underground fighters and yes they might enjoy the occasional blood fest when a fight spiraled out of control but to deliberately walk into the ring with the intention of stabbing someone was not only frowned upon but reason to be dismissed from their position and stripped of their right to fight there. After all, the fighters knew their were risks when fighting underground but the Cage was supposed to be a safer place for them to do so then some back alley or poorly lit shack.

“Hopefully the Handler gets tired of cleaning up his messes and cuts him loose. Without him, Jeremy has no footing to stand on and Trenton can toss his ass out.”

“One can only hope.”

 Just then the door to the lounge opened and they both looked behind them to see Liam walking in. “Yo!” Kaiden tossed towards the man and he raised his hand in a wave of a greeting as he tossed his gym bag on to the floor behind the couch. “How’s the arm?”

Shrugging a little he waved at it in exasperation, “Aching but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Sorry, bro,” the sandy haired man said with a guilt laced voice, “If I had known what he was up to I wouldn’t have tried to pull Chris and D off of him.”

Shaking his head he sent the other a beaming smile, “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know. Jeremy can be a sneaky little shit but he’s never done anything like this before. No one could have known. Chris and D just wanted a chance to land some blows on him, that’s why they jumped in.”

Feeling a bit of his guilt ease up he motioned to the tv with a questioning look and Akai snickered as he pat his friends leg in a very patronizing way. “Since little Raptor is laid up Trenton has him studying videos from underground fights and mixed martial arts fights.”

Sucking in a sympathetic breath he shook his head and muttered, “Better you then me,” before grabbing his bag again and heading towards the locker room in the back.

“Okay, I’m so over this. Wanna go grab some lunch? We can call up Av and see if she wants to join us?”

“And by join,” Akai started as he stretched his hands over his head to loosen his muscles, “you mean pay, I assume?”

Opening his mouth in feigned shock Kaiden shook his head and placed his hand over his heart, “You dare assume I would take advantage of the fact that our darling friend has more money then she could spend in three lifetimes? I am appalled!” Then he grinned and delivered a kick to the back of his friends leg. “Now go change while I call her and figure out how to sneak out of here without Trenton seeing.”

“Good look with that. He has ‘daddy vision’ when it comes to us.”

With that he trailed after Liam to the locker room, pausing only a second to laugh loudly when he heard Trenton screaming, “I fucking heard that!” from the next room.

———

Remember, it is camp so the errors in this are many! 

CHAPTER THREE: REUNIONS (Scene 1)

MAYA did not exactly wake up refreshed. A few hours of sleep was not the problem; she was used to it. Nor was it the hour of the day. It was her fitful sleep, that was the problem. She had trouble falling asleep at first as her mind was filled with thoughts connected to her and Santi’s newest discovery.

She had been waiting for news from Santi, news that could confirm that the holes in the skulls were, in fact, made by at least one monster. She had lent him the concoction. But he had not called or sent a text message and it was keeping her anxious. Then she fell asleep only to wake up abruptly from a nightmare. First, there was Santi literally offering her a human heart, then cut to a scene with giant mosquitoes having a wonderful time in Boracay and sipping juice, except they were not holding coconuts, but human heads!

Maya shook her own head to send the image away. I must really have the most active imagination…Defeated, she went down to go to her personal gym and de-stress.

She loved her house. She found an ideal lot in a quiet subdivision two years ago and put up her ideal place, complete with enough space for a garden. The walls and gate were high enough to keep people away. She had even put up a ‘Beware of Dog’ sign when she did not have a dog. The yard had space for a garage but she kept her newly acquired car parked outside the gate. It was a safe neighborhood, so far.

The house itself appeared to have only one storey with the living room greeting guests (which was not often, she could hardly remember the last time she had company), the kitchen-slash-dining room at guests’ right, and four steps leading to two rooms elevated from the ground. In truth, Maya had a basement as well, the gym with sound-proofed walls covering the entire floor area. It could only be accessed from her bedroom, one of the elevated rooms. A secret door and stairs led to her secret training room. She had thought it was better to keep it a secret in case, for some reason, a guest wandered into it.

It was where she practiced her combat skills and other unconventional things. It was also where she kept her weapons and it would not be easy to explain, for instance, what a buntot-page was doing in her collection, or how she acquired a real katana, and weren’t bottles of water and condiments supposed to be kept in the kitchen area? She could make up stories, but that would really be such a bother. She had made up too many stories already.

On the right side of the spacious gym was a very worn-out punching bag that Maya boxed, kicked, kneed, and elbowed to practice her martial arts on whenever she was not attending actual classes outside. She had learned these intense fighting skills long before they became the “in” things in the Philippines. Joining classes was not for her to be considered “cool,” though. She was much too old to care about such things. But still, the best way to master her martial arts was to practice on others, at least with one sparring partner. She just could not anymore count the times she was asked to join competitions for women, to which she always said no. To accept would be fool-hardy—she did not want the attention as much as possible, plus it would be downright cheating, her being her. She knew her opponents would not stand a chance. It was hard enough trying not to hurt a sparring partner.

Besides, despite what she did, Maya never took pleasure in hurting other human beings. Whenever she had to, it was in self-defense or to defend someone else, and never lethal. It was, after all, what all the martial arts were about. They were made for the purpose of self-preservation and defense, not for destruction. Too bad that many times, Maya had to use them to destroy, however just the cause.

What could she do? Fate brought her there. And if self-preservation wasn’t a human instinct, perhaps she should already be dead. People would most probably call her immortal if they knew, yet that was far from the truth. There was no such thing as immortality. That was the myth. There was only longevity and the incredible will to survive, probably even coupled with a lot of skill and luck. Survival of the fittest.

Her personal circumstances just happened to be different. It was not that she could not get hurt. Her aging may had been in slow motion five or six times more, and she could heal much faster than the average person, but dying was just as possible to happen to her. It was also her reality. She could get hurt, shot, stabbed, hit, and anything fatal could be the end of her. Surviving was simply the result of human instinct. She, instinctively, simply refused to die.

But the scars were there as constant reminders of her mortality. In a sense, she loved what her scars reminded her of. Meanwhile, they were also what reminded her of people’s fragility, and that was what kept her reluctantly alive for so long. Fate brought her there for a purpose, and maybe it was hers alone to bear. How many people like her did she know? As far as she knew, Gabilani was the only other person on earth who existed like her. That was, granted that he was still alive.

Gabilani, where are you…?

Thinking about him only made Maya angry, she realized, as she boxed and kicked, elbowed and kneed her poor punching bag with much more intensity. Of all the people in the world, why was she the one given this mission? Why did the only person she could count on choose to leave her side?

Well, not exactly the only person I can count on, she remembered, her blows softening. There was Santi. Sweet, ever-dependable Santi. He was reluctant at first, unable to accept the new reality he faced. But once he realized his possible role in the whole scheme of things, he became her willing ally. Sometimes, she even had to stop him from overdoing it.

As an initiative, Santi took an extra two-year training abroad, learning more from the other branches of forensic science, to find out more beyond what bones could tell him. It was almost a neverending occurence of overseas calls between them just so she could consult him on things related to his expertise. However, he also found time getting trained in Muay Thai. The better to help Maya with. It became their cause of argument when he got back, though, with him insisting on helping her hunt, with her insisting that he did not.

Once, she let him accompany her and it almost got him killed. “That’s it!” she told him. “I will not endanger your life…Santi, you can help me more with your brains. Your place is in the lab. Either you stay there or you don’t help me at all!” With that, Maya won her argument. He knew he could not change her mind.

That was three years ago. Santi had since concentrated on the forensic side of things and set up a laboratory in the Philippines. Which only made Maya feel guilty. Santi had a potentially successful career abroad and yet, he gave it all up so he could help her. He even partnered with the NBI to gain access to some cases and mainly, to avoid probable suspicion against him. Someone investigating bodies and bones when he was not yet supposed to would have definitely alerted the authorities. So why not make it more “legal”? Meanwhile, like a couple on dates, Santi would meet Maya at funeral parlors in a kind of twisted trysts involving dead bodies. How lovely.

He had complained about that countless times but Maya could not see anything to go around it. Whenever she found bodies that bore marks suggesting non-human causes, she had to act fast before the authorities could be alerted, if at all. She knew they would not be considered victims of the non-human kind. The cases would be simply treated as murder or manslaughter, then good luck if they would be solved, or if no innocent got wrongly convicted.

No amount of investigation, however modern, could help unless the authorities were open to accepting the supernatural as facts. And so, Maya was left with no choice but to convince in any way possible the victims’ families that she could help bury the dead properly for free. She was unsuccessful with some, particularly the rich or well-to-do, but so far, her success rate was also impressive, given that most of the families were poor. For instance, having established the idea that she was “like SOCO” people, it was easier to convince Anita Subido to let Maya take everything from there.

Normally, the dead was left untouched until the forensics team arrived. Onlookers were kept meters away from the body by yellow tapes covering the crime scene, or at least the area where the remains were found. The assigned entrance would be the assigned exit as well. These were to keep unauthorized people away and avoid contaminating or compromising the area that could destroy or rid of any possible evidence. Even the smallest matter mattered. That was the normal SOP. But being killed by any aswang was far from the normal world that many times, Maya knowingly violated this whole primary investigative procedure…

Maya stopped hitting the punching bag. That seemed like one already-dead body, too, so badly beaten up, she would have to replace it for the n^th time.

A quick glance at the wall clock told her it was way past three in the afternoon. She decided to stop training entirely and drop by Santi’s lab for her answers.

In half-an-hour, she was on her way.

****************************************************************

*Boracay – a beach island in the Philippines known for its white sands and that has become a popular tourist destination

* buntot-page – tail (buntot) of stingray (page)

* katana – sharpest and most deadly samurai sword

WEEKENDS ARE FOR LOVING

By Pamela Agboga

Copyright 2012 Pamela Agboga

CHAPTER 3

Monday September 3, 2012

Bright Bunting Nursery and Primary school owned a large expanse of land and the owners had put it to good use. The buildings bordered the fence that ran the perimeter of the land, creating a space right in the middle for the largest on-site playground in Warri town. There were swings and slides in one area, and a large expanse was left clear for inter-house games such as 100 metres race, relays or egg and spoon races.

The buildings were gaily coloured and decorated. The school was opening for the new term in a few days and Kingsbury staff was on ground to put in the finishing touches to the renovation they had been carrying out over the past two weeks.

Tobo had been working with the carpenters, installing the coloured doors on the mini frames in the toilet stalls. The horse-stable style doors went up to her waist and were so cute she almost wished she was a child again. She swung the door closed and latched it with a dead bolt. ‘Olise, this one is not fixed on straight.’

The carpenter raised his head from the door he was working on and nodded, speaking around the nails in his mouth; ‘I’ll check it ma.’

She nodded and turned to leave the restroom. ‘I’ll be back, let me check some other places too.’

She walked through the corridor observing the classes. Whoever had planned the layout of the school had the good sense to ensure all the buildings were at least one story high. Classrooms for the younger children were below while the older kids and administrative rooms were upstairs. There were indoor game rooms as well, for table tennis and basketball. It had taken them almost a month to cover so many areas.

The school was barely 5 years old, but with the competition growing in the state, the management had decided to up the ante and bring the environment to international standards. Of course the school fees were also being elevated to accommodate the rate of spending for the renovations; the plan was to make the parents realise that it was ‘worth every kobo.’

However, with all the money spent and work done, they were behind schedule. It was very slight, just a few days, but that was the situation in a nutshell. If she started pointing fingers, those fingers would go everywhere and nowhere. It was so many people’s fault, but traceable to one major source. The drapes couldn’t be made on time and the wood couldn’t be cut on time and the metal couldn’t be welded and shaped on time so the furniture and fabrics weren’t prepared on time and then couldn’t be delivered on time and so weren’t fitted on time all because there had not been constant electricity to ensure the smooth flow of work.

She wished she could prepare such a report and get it past her superiors without criticism, but that would just be too much. While Mrs. Alaka was in love with her after the wonderful job she had done in her daughter’s room, the lady had a penchant for following the management crowd, so if they chewed her out on this job, Mrs. Alaka would most probably keep silent and just make assenting sounds, and then in private express her understanding of the situation after the flaying. Tobo shook her head. Yellow belly.

‘What are you doing?’

Brought back to the present environment buy the bright, young voice, she looked down. ‘Hello again.’

The owner of the voice was a bouncy five year old that had taken to seeking her out every day. Efemena Okotie, Mena for short, was the only daughter of Chief Okotie, a senior staff of Nigeria National Petroleum Company, NNPC. Tobo enjoyed the little girl’s conversation and questions when she was not busy. Mena had told her in confidence that her father had told her she was going to be a doctor since all her elder brothers were going to be engineers, and they needed a doctor in the family. But after watching Tobo work, she was now sure she would be a decorator, a word she pronounced ‘decoration’ to Tobo’s secret amusement.

Now she skipped along with Tobo. ‘Why were you shaking your head?’

‘I was thinking of something.’

‘Was God asking you a question?’

Huh? Tobo was momentarily startled, ‘No, why did you ask that?’

‘Because in church yesterday my teacher told us God talks to people sometimes but other people won’t hear Him.’

‘Oh, yes I guess she might be right.’

‘Does He talk to you? I want to know what his voice sounds like.’

Tobo did not want to disillusion the poor child, and she did not want to lie to her either, so she chose her words carefully. She squatted down to Mena’s level so she could look her in the eye. ‘You know, maybe God speaks to people differently, maybe to some people he sounds quiet, and to others he sounds loud. Maybe sometimes he shouts and sometimes he whispers.’

From the dusty recess of her brain an answer came, like it had never been locked up. ‘And if you really want to talk to him, all you have to do is pray. He might answer through something that happens, or a dream, or you just suddenly know something.’

Catching herself, she made a face and then stood. ‘But it’s not every single time God answers. Sometimes He’s silent. Like I’m going to be now so you just run off and play, no more answers from me!’

Amidst half-hearted protesting, she made a zipping motion against her lips and silently shooed the child way.  Laughing and running, bright coloured beads bouncing in her neat plaits, Mena rushed to the yard to play with her friends.

But a dark look stayed on Tobo’s face. God stayed silent alright, she could preach a week’s sermon on the silence of God, but she did not think Mena was ready to hear it.

Lost in her private thought she wandered to the sick bay. Instead of the sterile white expected in a medical room, the walls were painted light orange, and as many cartoon characters as could be found were crammed into the corners of the wall. Tobo had put her foot down when the artist had proposed a picture of Ben 10; Tennyson already had something of a cult following, but she did not want sick kids dreaming of his other forms. She had allowed the Ben 10 likeness drawn on the wall of the sports room, it had seemed more fitting.

Here Mickey Mouse and Dora the Explorer (another kid sensation thanks to the ‘early savers account’ and Dora the Explorer Club a wise bank had created), held sway among their friend and other cartoon series.

She fingered the bed sheet on the first out of five small beds in the room.   Still colourful, the sheets had geometric shapes, alphabets and numbers. She picked up a pillow and hugged it, closing her eyes she breathed in the scent of fresh fabric. Lost in thought, she did not see or hear the man enter the room.

Steven observed her for some seconds. He watched the odd expression on her face, it was like watching a blind person think; with her eyes closed she seemed to be watching scene that he could not see. Remembering their first encounter he was about to take his own advice and leave instead of stand there and intrude on her thoughts, but then she shuddered.

It was very slight, but her face had twisted in pain, fleetingly he wondered if she was asleep. He knew some people had a rare disease whereby they could fall asleep while standing, he had seen it in an old movie once, couldn’t remember the name now. The guy had been about to grab and win a large amount of money and had fallen asleep just before he could take hold of the loot. Just slept off standing right there in front of the cash.

‘Tobo, there you are.’ He said like he was just coming into the room. She snapped out of the reverie and composed herself, but not before he noticed the watery look in her eyes. Why, she had almost been in tears. He was glad he had interrupted; he could not stand crying women. And he hated lending them his hankies. By the time they were through he just threw them away. Mucus, lipstick and mascara were things he did not go near.

‘Yes?’ As Head of Design she had to work with Steven on projects, but after the initial encounter they had never had much business with each other, half the time he was at Abuja. The other half they were at group meetings and while they had much to say in the group, they hardly ever spoke to each other.

‘I wanted to take a look around the premises, but from what the Principal tells me we are not through yet. Why?’

Tobo mentally ran through the problem chain again and decided not to present it. ‘We miscalculated the completion date, sir. Power problems and fuel shortages of course, affected the deadline.’

‘Well next time factor them in. at this rate the school might soon be demanding a rebate.’

‘We are working around the clock,’ she tried to drop the pillow casually; ‘I’m certain that by tomorrow we’ll be finished and out of here.’

‘I sure do hope so. This room is nice though, very good job. Are you through here?’ She nodded. ‘Can you show me around all the other completed sites?’

‘Certainly. ’ she walked past him and out the door, leaving behind a sensual smell of flowers and something else he could not quite put a finger on. Oddly, the scent confused him for a moment, and then was gone, but his brain seemed to bemoan the loss and he found his feet automatically propelling him in her direction, his nose anticipating the scent again.

Oblivious to her effect on him, Tobo walked on, hoping he had not thought much about seeing her holding a pillow. If he asked she’d plead fatigue. She took him through the ground floor class block.  The classes were all done. They had had to work around some children about because although the school was closed for the holiday, they had been having summer classes. The pupils had to be moved here and there as the classes were being renovated.

Although it was well past two o’clock, and classes ended at one, some children were still around, playing on the slides and swings. They called their greetings out to Tobo and Steven as they passed by the grounds. Tobo sighted Mena at the gate and she shouted a farewell to her and waved as driver escorted the child out of the gate for the journey home.

The tour ended upstairs in the computer room and Steven nodded appreciatively. The school was truly bright and inviting, the team had made good use of natural lighting to make even small rooms look larger. ‘Well done. You guys have out done yourselves.’ The survey was over and he had no more business at the school, but interestingly he did not feel like leaving her just yet.

Tobo laughed. ‘That gratitude should just reflect itself in a generous bonus.’

He made a face. ‘Really, just that? I was considering taking you out to celebrate, but if that was all you wanted…’

‘That’s not a bad idea, it all depends on where you’d have been considering.’

‘Mr Biggs’ he teased.

‘I’ll pass. I can take myself there.’

Steven mentally crossed his fingers. ‘Okay, your choice. But that means it becomes dinner.’

‘Oh, I choose the place but its dinner? Then Mr Biggs it is.’

‘Ooh, I never took you for a coward, seems I was wrong.’ He turned to the door.

Tobo couldn’t understand how the conversation acquired the flirtatious note, but she was not going to tuck her tail between her legs and run.  He had scored one point before, but she’d be a carved up turkey if she let him do it again, who did he think he was, Mr Parting Shot? One last line and he was out the door, not this time buddy!

‘The Riviera.’ That was the only hotel in Warri that rivalled the Wellington in size and stars. Steven smiled and turned back. ‘Okay.’

‘Friday, after work.’

‘I’ll pick you up at home.’

‘Whatever, you work out the details.’ She concluded as she sailed past him and out the door, giving him a last dose of fragrance. Then she turned, hand on the door post, and gave him a wicked smile. ‘And do not forget your wallet.’ That said, she sauntered off.

Steven laughed softly, talk about lecturing the boss!

To be continued…