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(another excerpt)

Trisha clutched her satchel tightly at her side, staring down at her feet as she walked. She was terrified that the people she passed might see right through her, into her thoughts, and see what she was about to do. Some of the nurses and doctors gave her side-ways, sad glances and she realized why no one had stopped to question her: they felt sorry for her. These had been her brother's coworkers, they had known him and they knew who she was. Trisha resisted the urge of giggling; her plan was going so smoothly! 

The young man was not what Trisha had imagined him to be; not at all how Ike, her brother, had described him either. For one, he was as scrawny as, well, a twig and frail. He lay chained down to the bed, strange machines, tubes and wires webbed around him, making him look even more frail.
His hair, black and reaching down to his neck, almost brushing his shoulders, was unkempt and matted with what looked like blood. Trisha wondered if it were his own or Ike's blood.

His head rolled lazily against the pillow, slumping somewhat against his shoulder, to look at her as she entered. His eyes were big, dark and brown; not the eyes of a killer at all but at the same time, made the young man seem dangerous. Over his mouth and his nose, was a strange metal, wire and leather contraption that hooked around the back of his head- some sort of human muzzle. His scrawny wrists were strapped down against the railings of the bed, too. Trisha clacked her tongue with pity.

"Hello," she said, softly standing at the end of the bed to face him directly. "Can you understand me?" The boy's brow furrowed and he nodded. Another surprise for Trisha. She had expected him to be feral.

She moved closer to him, standing at the side of the bed, and leaned down closer to his head. Their eyes met. "You killed a man who worked here," she whispered harshly, feeling a swell of sudden hatred for him even though there was no reason for it. "Do you remember?" The boy glared back, obviously unable to answer verbally and unwilling to nod; Trisha knew he remembered, though.

"That man was my older brother," she continued. "He was the only family I had left in this world! And you took him away from me." Speaking this lie helped fuel her act, she found. It gave her a tingling, growing, hot feeling in her gut and heart, almost as if she were fooled herself.

His glare seemed to say: Go ahead, keep going.

She reached into her satchel, removing a small syringe and two tiny bottles of clear fluid. Trisha held it up for him to see. "Do you see this? This is a drug called Succinylcholine; it's still being studied and experimented with. They're not supposed to use it on people because it's so lethal. My brother worked with it here in the labs." He looked only slightly interested in what she was saying. "Do you know what it does? It paralysis you; every muscle in your body is paralyzed so that you can't even breathe." 

He raised an eye brow at her and she felt as if she were deflating.

Trisha wasn't sure what else to say at this point. He watched her closely, and she watched him. They both seemed confused as to why the other was there. She sighed, her faux anger quickly draining.

She sighed. "My brother has told me about you, about how it seems as if you can't die. Any serious injury you suffer is gone within hours. You're indestructible, Ike said. He also said that you react like most other people do to drugs but even if you're given dangerous amounts... you somehow come back, even if it would normally kill someone." 

He nodded.

"If I give you this drug," she said, softly, "then your body will be paralyzed. You won't be able to breath and your heart will stop beating. The other doctors won't recognized the symptoms of the drug because the drug is undetectable after only a few minutes in the body and it will appear as if you've died..." He nodded again, his eyes squinting suspiciously at her.

"I'll give you this drug," Trisha offered. "And they'll think you've died. They won't notice the pin prick from the needle, either. You'll be buried in a couple of hours. They have a little cemetery for... other patients and experiments like you out there...I've seen it myself."

There was a bit of a pause as he seemed to be working out what she was suggesting. He nodded to her, encouraging her to go on- or so Trisha thought. "I'll be waiting in the cemetery," she said. "When they've buried you and they've left, I'll dig you out." His eyes widened and his fist clenched. "I'll help you get out of here. What they've done to you, what Ike did to you... I won't let them continue doing that to you. So... do you want the drug?" 

He made a moaning sound, as if he were crying, yelling and speaking at the same time, and he nodded his head yes. Trisha acted quickly, drawing the clear fluid from the bottle into the syringe and preparing to administer it. "Spread your fingers apart," she instructed, wanting to hide the needle prick for safe measure and he complied without hesitation.

Within moments his hands and arms went limp, his head slipped even further down the pillow and his eyes stopped moving but continued to stare at Trisha. His chest stopped rising but it felt like ages before the alarms on the machines he was connected to went off. The drug killed you fast but not fast enough, Trisha thought.

She hid the bottles and syringe in her satchel again and began to scream just as the doctors and nurses arrived. "He just... He was fighting his restrains and making awful noises!" she wailed, backing away towards the door as they began to work on him. "And then he just went limp!" They paid no attention to Trisha and didn't notice when her crying died away. Nor did they notice her slip out of the room and away down the hall.

Human but different...

(An excerpt from a piece I'm working on)

It took Trisha almost five hours to dig out the grave, and it was a shallow grave. After she'd finally cleared the all the soil away, revealing the lid of the poorly built pine coffin, she glanced at her pocket watch. 12:30. Trisha swore under her breath and returned the watch to it's place in a cleverly hidden breast pocket in her dress and knelled down. She reached down into the grave, trying to pry the thin slab of wood away from the rest of the box.

The lid didn't budge. Swearing again, she climbed into the grave and stomped on the lid until the wood began to splinter. Digging her fingers into the splinters, the blisters from shoveling beginning to bleed, and pried the board away. Trisha was surprised, although she wasn't sure what she else she would have expected, to find that the coffin had filled with dirt, almost covering the young man inside.

Trisha dusted and wiped the dirt away from his face, but he didn't move. For a terrifying moment, Trisha wondered if he had actually died, but then she saw his eye lids twitch. Slowly, his eyes opened, and he began to violently shake. An awful noise rose from his throat and chest. She gasped and made to scramble out of the grave, before she realized he was actually choking.

"OH," she cried, bending down again, trying to help dig out the dirt in the coffin to help him climb out. "Let me help you." He didn't make any protest, but his coughing and gagging seemed to grow louder.

"Water." Or at least, he made a noise that sounded much like he was asking for water as Trisha helped him out of the grave. She grabbed her satchel, pulled out her army canteen and handed it to the young man, who was now crouched on the ground beside the grave, still choking, but amazingly alive! He shook as violently as he gagged, struggling to twist the cap off. Trisha reached out to help him, but he turned away. As he removed the cap he thew his head back, guzzling the water down as if he hadn't had a drink in years... which made Trisha wonder if that were the case indeed.

Drawing a ragged breath before taking another drink, the young man glared at Trisha; the water had smeared the dirt on his face making him look more barbaric. It was then that Trisha realized that he wasn't wearing any clothes at all; it was the first time she'd ever seen a man naked before. Her face flushed and she took off her coat, which was several sizes too small for him but would have to do, and draped it around his shoulders.

When he finished the water, he wiped his mouth across his forearm and twisted the cap back on. He handed it back to Trisha and gave her a curt nod. "Thank you," he huffed in a hoarse voice. "Do you have any food?" 

"Food..." Trisha asked, taken aback. She stared at him confused. "You mean... to eat?"

"No," he said, his tone bored, "to rub all over my body; I find it quite sexually pleasing..." Trisha gaped at him a moment, before he sighed and shook his head. "Yes, to eat. Why else would ask for food?" 

"Oh...sure," she said slowly, reaching into her satchel. She tossed him an only-slightly bruised apple, which he bit into without hesitating. 

He stopped mid-bite halfway finished with his apple, realizing she was staring at him. "What?" he snapped.

"I... didn't think you could eat food," she said softly. "I expected you to... drink human blood, or eat human flesh..." 

The look she won with this statement was best described as a cross between disgusted and slightly amused. "Absolutely not," he said with a smirk. "That's disgusting!"

He took the last bite and stood slowly. His knees wobbled a bit, but otherwise, the young man seemed to feeling quite well... after everything he'd experienced.

"Well, come on, Exxie" she said nervously, grabbing her satchel. 


Trisha flushed, realizing that she had no idea what his name was... or if he even had a name. "That's what Ike... my brother, called you. At home, after he'd worked, he'd tell me about you... I've known about you since you were first brought to the labs."

"But why Exxie?" he pressed.

"It's short for 'The Experiment'," she mumbled, feeling terrible.

He rolled his eyes and gave a disgusted groan. "I have a name, for Christ's sake! My name is Korven." 

"I'm Trisha...you have an interesting name. I've never heard anything like it before," she said.

"It's Latin, common during the Middle Ages," Korven explained dryly.

She gaped at him. "You really have been alive that long?" 

Korven grinned. "Longer." 

They stared at each other a few moments before heading off through the maze of graves in silence. Trisha's mind was churning with questions, but she felt that asking any one of them might be out of place. She was grateful when it was he who finally broke the silence.

"About your brother..." he said softly. "I didn't mean... what happened to him..." Trisha was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "I don't like killing. I've never killed anyone before."

"But... Ike said... you were barbaric and animal-istic and cruel... and blood thirsty!"

He shook his head, his voice growing strained as if he were choking again. "No, the men at the labs are. I joined the army because I wanted to fly... I've always dreamt of flying." 

Trisha brushed his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "So... you're not a monster at all? Not a vampire... or a werewolf? Or some other awful creature?" 

"I'm human..." Korven said with a grin, tears streaking down his dirty cheeks, "but different..." 

Preview- Ghost.

Dear Sam,
Where are you? After what happened last night, I thought things would be different for us! You promised that they would be different...I missed you today at school; got your homework for you anyways. I thought I might see you here (the rock), but I guess you're sick or something? Please call when you can.


Dear Sam,
What is going on? I went to drop of your homework, but met the police instead. The police were everywhere today, Sam! Your mum and da are in a panic. Where did you go? Everyone is searching; everyone is scared. I don't like this, Sam. Wherever you're hiding, come out. I'm mad at you! 

Dear Sam,
You JERK! It's been a week, and they're still searching! There are photos everywhere around town, posters that read Have you seen me? with your face on them! You must have seen them, so why aren't you coming out? Your mum hasn't stopped crying, you know.


Dear Sam,
...They're looking for a dead body now, Sam. This has gone on far too long! Where are you?! They all think your dead. Now all the reports are saying "If you have any information to the disappearance and murder of Sam White, please call this number" and stuff like that, Sam. They think someone got you, Sam, but i know you're hiding... you couldn't have just died! 


Dear Sam,
I went to your memorial today... Everyone wore black, and they had Pastor Roger read the 23rd Psalm... you know, the one that's read a lot at funerals that begins with "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures." I started crying when he read the part "though I walk through shadow of the valley of death" , so did everyone else. Your mother started screaming and your dad had to lead her out of the room. Why are you doing this to everyone? Why are you doing this to your parents? They love you! Why are you doing this to me...? I love you.


Dear Sam,
Do you remember what today is? It's my birthday. It would mean a lot to me if you came to see me. I miss you so much.


Dear Sam,
It's your birthday today. Happy eighteenth birthday, Sammy! We had talked about going out and getting a pack of cigarettes- even though I'm a year younger than you- to celebrate. ...I hope you didn't do that without me.


Dear Sam,
I'm tired of waiting. It's been almost an entire year! ...where are you!? 


1 year later.

I sat on the rock, holding my latest letter. There other letters I've written are still where I left them, under a smaller rock in a little nook in the side of the rock, where the elements haven't been able to touch them. I could pull them out and still read them, one for each day since he disappeared, but I don't touch them. I know what each one of them says, I don't need to remind myself. Sam, when he comes back, will want to read them, I know.

I place the newest letter with all the others, placing the holding rock back to keep it there and turn back towards the woods. I drag my legs through the yellowing tall grass because I like the feeling of the long blades tugging at me and I like the swish-swish sound of it. It used to annoy Sam and he always made a point of telling me to stop. I do each time I come out here now, hoping that he might get so irritated with that he'll finally come out of hiding to tell me to stop. I know someday he'll have to do that. 


It's almost supper when I get back to the house, but it's been a long time since I've really been able to eat properly. My mum brings my supper to my room because she understands how I'm feeling, or so she says.

"When I was your age, I lost a friend, too," she says. "I know it hurts, Hadley. I'll give you as much time as you need... would you like to see someone?"


"You know... like a therapist? Perhaps they might be able to help you move on," she says. "There are medicines that help with depression, Hadley."

I  scowl at her and tread off to my bedroom without another word. Of course I'm depressed! The person I love most has disappeared, and everyone thinks he's dead. But I know he's not! I know it. I know because I found a letter from him, taped to my window like always, only days after he vanished.

It said: I'm not gone, Hadley. I'm still here, Hadley.


Last night, the light show that took place in the clouds, though I've gotten used to the many storms that happen here during the summer, was unlike anything I've ever seen! 

For up to ten seconds at a time, the sky would be completely illuminated and the world lit up, as bright as day, in an eerie white-blue. At times, the lightening was coming from every direction and visible lightening bolts zig-zagged across the sky. Twice, the entire sky was taken over by a huge lightening bolt that stretched across the sky, so far in both directions I couldn't see where it ended and where it started.

And surprisingly... there was very little thunder to be heard...

Easter, April of 1999, I said goodbye to my father. He hugged and kissed me, and he gave me a bunny Beanie Baby for the holiday. He told me he loved me, and I told him I loved him, too. And then, we said goodbye. I knew it wasn't goodbye forever; I knew it would be a while before I saw him again. Mum, Anna (my sister), and I were leaving for the East Coast... and daddy was staying on the West Coast.

I did not realize, though, that how long it would be before I saw my father again. On the morning of June 12th, 2010- just before I had to leave for my final marching practice for my graduation, which would take place later that day- I stepped onto my front porch and held my arms open to my dad. Eleven years and two months had passed since that Easter day that we had said goodbye.

It was a weekend I will never forget. Full of laughter, tears, cheers, parties and fun. I received my high school diploma (graduating a year early), I went to my first all night party (which I'm sorry to say wasn't as fun as I hoped it would be xD), I partied with my friends and family at my church (and learned the "Christian" form of getting high according to my Pastor, haha), and tearfully said goodbye yet again to my father.

Next Tuesday, will be one year mark of the last time I saw my father. It feels odd saying that. I became used to the idea of telling people "I haven't seen my father in "x"-amount of years". But now, it's been reset.

I'm not sad, though. I will be seeing my father again in less than a month, on July 2nd. With him, though, will be two members of my family I've yet to meet. My step mother, and my half sister, Chloe (who will be three later this year). It's exciting, and it feels like my papa is part of my life again. Though there were phone calls and letters and gifts through the years, it was hard saying my dad was part of my life when he was over 3000 miles away and I couldn't see his face.

Though the distance is still great, and the visits infrequent, I have my dad again. And I'm glad.



Hey everyone! As I wrote in my first journal entry, Introduction, I've been reading a lot since my summer holiday has started. And I've finished the book, Divergent by Veronica Roth, that I mentioned. And, as I suspected... the book left us off on a huge cliffhanger. I'm actually gonna go so far as to say, it was even more of a cliffhanger than the ending in Patherfinder. But I'm happy to say that that feeling of hatred and love for the book that you have at the same time, slowly fades away. Just stick with the book, and you'll find that you come to love the book, and don't hate it anymore. :) Good times.

Seriously though, that ending... what the hell! I mean, I think it was a great book, and I'm excited to read the next book (which probably won't be out until next summer, just my luck) to find out what the hell happens! I mean, seriously! Not to give away the ending, for those of the people who are interested in reading the book, but the characters face a life or death situation (how typical is that for a book, right?) and they get on a train and then it ends! No, before people start freaking out, I did not ruin the entire book. But seriously! I want to know what happens next! I kept flipping back through the pages to see if I missed something, but NO! That's how it ends! Ugh... so good. Haha.

And now... I'm not really reading anything. Which is sad, but I'm really in a "Sci Fi", end of the world, survival type book mood, so if anyone has any suggestions for what I should read next, please leave a comment (include book title, author, and if you can, page count). :) 

Well, I'm gonna end here. ^^ 


Writer's Block: The long and short of it

What's the longest book you've ever read? What's the shortest?

The shortest book I've read (excluding the picture/children's books I read at work- I work in a day care) I would say was the book called "The Green Book". It's a really funky sci fi book and when you get to the end you're all like "WHOA... that was amazing!" And seriously, the book is less than 100 pages long. SO GOOD! 

The longest book I've read I think is a toss up between "Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows" and "The Host". I'm not sure which of those two books is longer... both are very long. @_@ Both are amazing, too! :D

Writer's Block: Cinco de Mayo

Do you consider yourself patriotic? If so, how do you express it?

My parents, my uncles and my aunts all served for the military or married others serving. A few of my cousins are also in the military. I show that I am a Patriot by respecting and honoring my family and the others who served along side them. I'm proud of my country- but not everything it does. Part of Patriotism is realizing your country isn't perfect at all but still choosing to respect your fellow citizens.

Writer's Block: Your own toy story

Did you have a favorite stuffed animal, action figure, or doll growing up? If so, what was it and what happened to it?

MacGillicuddy. My beautiful, sweet, soft, funny-look, good-humored Clown doll. His body was his multicolored pooka-dotted and striped clown suit, with ruffles at his wrists and feet. His feet were yellow for boots. (You couldn't take off any of his clothes- the clothes were painted onto his body). He had a funky matching pointed hat, and a sweet painted-make-up face and yellow yarn for hair. 

And my mother destroyed my sweet doll. I will never let her live it down. To this day, she still regrets it.

I Awoke to an Odd Feeling.

I woke this morning to a surreal, strange feeling like something was very different about today (or at least going to be). I stumbled out of my bedroom, still groggy from just having woke up, and slumped into an arm chair in my living room. As I looked around, nothing felt out of place- nothing had been moved or taken away or even added to the room... and yet, it felt so unfamiliar to me.

I sat there for a few minutes, pondering what it could be that made the room look so different. It wasn't that the sun shone through the window, it wasn't the placement of my puppy's kennel, it wasn't the coffee table. It wasn't my mother's glider rocking chair, and yet that's what my eyes seemed drawn to much. I stared and stared at the chair, and yet, I couldn't find anything different or strange about it.

"Something feels different today," I finally said, to my mother sitting at her computer just at the other side of the room. "Not bad... but not good. Just different. Like something changed, or something is about to change."

As usual, my mother was engrossed at whatever it was on the computer screen in front of her, and did not turn to face me. But she had heard me, and I saw her head nod. "I feel it, too," she said quietly.

"Is the room different?" I ask. "Did you change anything?" 

"No," she said.

So I went and sat in the glider rocking chair. Maybe it's just where I'm sitting that's caused this odd feeling, I thought. Nope, it wasn't. Sitting just a few feet away from the arm chair in the rocking chair, I could still had that same unfamiliar feeling.

I wondered if perhaps I was sensing something about the world, or the area. But, then, surly my mother would have told me if something huge had happened in the world while I slept. She had told me the moment I awoke about the Earthquake in Japan; she had told me the moment I awoke that Osama Bin Laden had been found and killed. So, I quickly set aside that anything as big as either of those had happened last night.

Maybe something had happened to one of my friends... or a friend's family? It was an awful thought, and I sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. Yet, how would I ever know? If something had in fact happened to a friend, I'm sure I wouldn't be on their priority list of people to call... at least not right away. And what of my friends in Scotland? England? The Netherlands? And other far off States like Texas, California and Washington? 

I tried to calm myself. I reminded myself that the feeling I had was not one of dread... it was just very odd. And I'm still not sure what it was that caused this feeling...

Anyone got any ideas?