Redemption

This is the story about a bully. Like many other bullies, he kept to himself when he wasn't beating anybody up or other bully-ish things. Perhaps you know someone like this bully. Maybe he picked on you. Maybe he was you.

We've always heard the side of the prey. Now its time to gear the predator's side. Our tale begins in a high school just like anyone elses. Two unsuspecting freshmen are making their way down the hall. They are talking about something. Something All freshmen talk about.

(80's Wannabe Guy and Levelheaded Black Man are walking down the hall, trying to act cool. It's not working)

80's Wannabe Guy: Hey my man. So what you think about it?

Levelheaded Black Man: I'm thinking what you're thinking dude.

80's Wannabe Guy: Fo' Shilz!

Levelheaded Black Man: No man! Its Shizzle! S. H. … Izzle. We're in high school. You've got to get the lingo right!

(Bruiser barges up, clapping a beefy hand on a shoulder of each freshman.)

Bruiser: Well well! Fresh meat.

80's Wannabe Guy: Hey man! Get off me! So not radical dude!

Levelheaded Black Man: Oh hell. Here we go again.

(Bruiser lifts both freshmen high into the air)

Bruiser: To half-wits in the hall who don't even know the current slang. Time to get you two an education.

(Bruiser twists both freshmen together into a human pretzel ball)

Bruiser: (running with the ball) He shoots! (tossing the ball into a dumpster being wheeled down the hall) He scores! (The two freshmen land neatly into the dumpster.)

(The principal enters. He was captain of the football team during his time)

Principal: Mr. Cancage!

(Bruiser ignores the principal, still smirking at his handiwork being wheeled away)

Principal: Mr. Cancage!

(Bruiser turns around)

Bruiser: Yeah?

Principal: What exactly was the meaning of your behavior? That was most innpropriate! I demand you return those two freshmen to their spot of standing!

(Bruiser rolls his eyes)

Principal: Now, Mr. Cancage!

Bruiser: Ok. Whatever.

(Bruiser stops the dumpster from being moved. He then grasps the upper edge, and flips the dumpster onto its side, depositing the freshmen and their surrounding filth onto the recently cleaned hallway floors.)

Principal: That’s it! Go to the office young man!

Bruiser: (shaking his head) why should I? You're right here in front of me. Why waste time going to your office?

Principal: (spluttering) You're… You're just trying to build up a reputation! (Pointedly, and with conviction) You think you're so big and tough! Well… I can see you for who you really are! You're scared. You can't cope with authority. I can't say I blame you (fixes his glasses). My god. Your parents were just the same. Weak, spineless bookworms! Always trying to change this or something rights that! NO school spirit. No respect at all.

Bruiser: (with a look of cold steel) What did you say? (glares at Principal)

Principal: You heard me! You're a spineless coward.

Bruiser: (swelling with anger) Don't you EVER say that again! You don't know ANYTHING about me, or my parents! You can't even see past the end of your own nose!

Principal: and exactly what would be worth seeing? You? I think not. You've got muscles. That’s the only plus. You waste them for nothing. Nothing! Join a sport. Then you'd be useful! Bring some pride to our school! Good Day!

(The Principal turns and walks away. The scene cuts to black, and when the lights come back on, bruiser is in a classroom, second seat from the front on the far right. Its Pre-Calculus and they've finally finished taking a quiz. Bruiser is staring at the chalkboard. The teacher looks up from her papers)

Teacher: Ike Cancage? Cold you please come up here?

Bruiser: wha? Huh? Oh, sure.

(Bruiser walks up, taking special precaution to stay quiet)

Teacher: Ike. I've just finished grading your quiz.

Bruiser: Ok.

Teacher: Do you know what you got, Ike?

Bruiser: No idea.

Teacher. Ike, you got a perfect. You showed all work, your logic was impeccable, and you even got all parts of the bonus question. You obviously know the material. And yet your failing. Why is that?

Bruiser: 'Cause I don't do the homework.

Teacher: Exactly. Why is that? It kills me to fail you every six weeks. You have the top scores on tests and quizzes, but you insist on not turning in your blessed homework! Why don't you?

Bruiser: I think it's stupid. I know the material. Why do busy work?

Teacher: you have me there. Anyway, there was another point I wanted to discuss. I've seen you in the halls, and you are a vulgar fellow. Why aren't you when you are in my class?

Bruiser: (looking down) to be quite honest, it comes naturally to me. The simplicity of the basic logic is easy to grasp, and once the concept is realized, its all a matter of deducing when to apply a formula. Why do you ask?

Teacher: (smiling) No reason special. You just helped me make a decision. (the bell rings) Good day, Mr. Cancage.

(Bruiser leaves through the door stage right. Soon sounds of his bullying can be heard as he stuffs the same two freshmen from earlier into a locker.)

Bruiser: Form an ionic bond you two. Maybe it'll boost your brains! (laughter)

(It’s the next day, and the teacher is standing in front of the room with a new student…)

Teacher: Class, I'd like you all to meet Miss Katheryne Alice. She's a new student, and I want all of you to make sure she feels welcome. (Catcalls from the peanut gallery) Now now. Behave. I have taken the liberty of looking at Miss Alice's schedule, and picked out a tutor to help settle her into the curriculum. Ike Cancage, (Bruiser, who had been playing with a paper clip, abruptly drops the clip and looks up, caught off guard by the new student…) will you please help Miss Alice get aquainted with our present chapter?

(Katheryne Alice sits in the seat right behind Bruiser and gets her books out. In the process, her calculator drops out, clattering to the floor.)

Katheryne: Oh dear. (Bends over to pick it up)

Bruiser: No no! I've got it. Don't worry. (retrieves the calculator and sets it back onto Katheryne's desk)

Katheryne: (smiles) Thanks.

Bruiser: No problem. (hesitates) It’s the only time you'll see me do something nice.

Katheryne: (shaking head from side to side) Ok. I won't expect it anymore then. (smile) What was your name again?

Bruiser: Icarus Cancage. I go by Ike. And you're Katheryn Alice.

Katheryne: I go by Kat. Kat Alice.

Bruiser: Ike Cancage

Katheryne: So where is your class at?

Bruiser: Let me show you.

(The scene slowly blacks out with Ike getting Kat caught up on Math.)

Too Much of a Bad Thing

First perspective

My pulse quickened. Jerking my eyes open, I glanced cautiously at my surroundings. I was in my bedroom, in my bed, between the sheets. A small breath escaped my slightly parted lips, curling in wispy threads of light that meandered about the limits of my vision.

They were watching me.

My heart pounded with great force, sending waves of pain through my chest as I tried to catch my breath. Small beads of incandescent sweat gently slid down my face, illuminating the surrounding darkness. I couldn't see anybody. I couldn't be alone! I could feel Them...

They were still watching me.

"Stop!" I thrashed violently, pulling the covers over his head, "Stop watching me!"

They hadn't stopped watching him yet.

I sighed, calming myself with deep breaths and relaxing into the security of my pillow and mattress and sinking into the folds of time. I was safe. "Nothing can ever get to me if I'm under the covers," I thought. That thought gave me comfort. I relaxed once more in silence.

They were still watching me.

I lifted myself from the bed, moving over to my dresser, to gather my clothes and get dressed. I couldn't sleep with whatever it was still watching me. When I got dressed and changed, I fled from the presence, taking refuge in the bunker under my desk, within my bedroom and in the security of my house. If They wanted me, then They would have to just walk right in and…

The knock came like thunder to my ears, traveling through space and time and consciousness. The Thunder pierced my soul; loud as pain and twice as fearsome. They were here. Dear mother of all that is good and normal they were here. I leaped out from behind my desk, and took three long strides. One took me to the bed, one took me on the bed, and the last carried me to the other side of it. I dove to the floor and cautiously lifted my head. I peered at the door. The knock came again and the door seemed to bulge and splinter. The air quaked with the pressure.

"Andrew!" cried a voice. The voice sparkled like crystal rain; much too clear and too haunting. Was it human?

I tried to shout. "What do you want with me?" My words drifted slowly through the air, then fell helplessly to the hardwood floor, languishing in innumerable shards. Had they reached the door? I couldn't tell.
This time, all I heard was static. I adjusted my ear receiver until I heard the voice again. " ...to you. I'm coming in." The voice faded out once more as the frequency changed. I ducked behind the bed and peered in fright at the bulging, twisting door. The sound of the turning doorknob grated against my ears and then, the door exploded open. Cecilia seemed to roll into the room. "What are you doing?" she asked. The voice was that crystal, haunting voice again.

Was it really Cecilia? The face looked like hers, but the body undulated in an altogether unnatural way. Inhuman colors danced about her skin and her clothes radiated light and noise. Yes, I know your secret. They'd came for me. They came, disguised as my sister, but I knew the truth. I knew their crafty little secret. I glared at the Cecilia/Creature from behind the security of my bed.

"I'm thinking about killing you." said the Cecilia/Creature. It kept speaking, but it's frequency shifted continuously. Calmly, it meandered to my desk and began rifling through my papers.

I struggled to understand what it was saying but the words faded in and out. "I'm going ... you're coming with me," it said. The floor and dirt seemed to dance about, mocking me, holding me back.

"No!" I shouted. It wanted to take me, then and there. It turned to me and took a step. Not this time. I wouldn't go out like that. Not after all that it did to me! Not after the pain! I tried to hide from it. The beast uttered a horrible, unintelligible sound. "Leave me alone!" I pleaded. I barely got the words out. Shaking, I curled into myself. I curled into space; into time. I curled out of existence.

The creature stared in my direction. Its eyes were ablaze with a dark fire. It suddenly crouched to the floor. Was it going to pounce? NO, it wasn't going to pounce. It had something in it's hand… some sort of hammer. It slowly stood up again and reached for me. A tentacle of an arm came at me and the voice shouted cold music. The arm floated and expanded and distorted towards me. My gosh, it was going to kill me! How could He/She/It see me?

"Just go away!" I shouted. My face was cold with sweat. I curled up even more to get away from the fiendish creature. The room got quiet. When I looked up, it was gone. The creature's unholy presence had left the floor dancing and the door bulging.

Second perspective

I knocked twice on the bedroom door. I looked down at my watch then knocked again. "Andrew!"

"What do you want. " The words were muffled and trailed off like Andrew had meant to say more.

"I just want to talk to you. I'm coming in, okay?" Slowly, I turned the doorknob and stepped into the room. It was warped beyond imagination. The room was so disorganized it could only have been brought upon by severe and ongoing hallucinations. Piles of clothes and refuse and books and food and CDs were lying about the room. It was impossible to tell which pile was which. The floor was only visible in a few patches and even in those places it was stained or littered with cat hair. She looked about the room, shuddered with disgust, and then spotted Andrew peering at her from behind the bed. "What are you doing?"

Andrew stared blankly at me. His shaggy, ruffled hair was standing up on one corner of his head. It must have been days since he had seen a comb, much less a mirror.

"You know, if Mom saw your room like this, she'd kill you. Hell, even I'm thinking about killing you for letting it get this bad." I walked over to his desk and started idly flipping through his various magazines and notebooks.

Andrew continued to glare at me.

"Anyhow," she said, "I'm going to the store and I need to know if you're coming with me."

"NOOOO!" he shouted.
"Are you okay?" I asked. I took a step towards him. His eyes dilated and he seemed to shrink from me.

"Leave me alone," he whispered. His voice seemed small and frightened. She tilted her head and looked at him. A thousand reasons why her brother was acting odd ran through my mind. Was it because… no, it couldn't be that.

As I gazed around his room, something on the floor caught my eye. I knelt down amidst the clutter and picked up a single, unadorned mug. I held the empty mug, showing it to him. "Did you drink all of the hot chocolate?" I asked.

"Just go away!" he moaned. He was curled up on the floor, trying to hide from me. Quivering, he started mumbling incoherently. I shook my head in quiet amusement and left the room. Perhaps I shouldn't have added the entire Ex-Lax candy bar to his hot chocolate.

~ This is based on a true story about a time that my sister gave me 40 times the recommended dosage of Ex-Lax; I defecated so much and was so dehydrated I hallucinated for 5 days straight.

The Unlikely Incident

As I reflect on it now, I know that it was the defining moment; it turned my life around. It was one of those seemingly unimportant moments in life. Some people would think it was silly. That small lump of excess protein and fluid defined who I was as a person.

It's dried and crusty husk clung to my finger, refusing to accept its fate: to be flung into some unknown corner and forgotten. I was not going to let that happen to me. I had made several realizations about my life, and it wasn’t too late. I could still change and not wind up a forgotten and useless mass on the tip of life's finger. I would survive.

It wasn't always useless and shriveled. It had started thick, full of substance and moldable to whatever position I might fill. It was adaptable and full of potential, just as I was. As time passed on however, it just stayed there; clinging to one place on my finger, unmoving as the sands of time blew over it, ignoring it. It became nothing, just as I was. It could have done many things, but it stayed in one spot, just as I did. It rapidly faded, losing its potential, just like what was happening to me.

It wasn’t completely perfect. Before being plucked from the rest of it's ilk, it had already dried at the edges, setting it apart as an irritation. Rather than change and become useful, it stayed there, abandoned by its society: an outcast. I had done the same thing; I had separated myself. I was in this dismal station because I couldn't grasp change. The rest of my kind moved on to better things, while I remained, clutching to the gates of time, fired from my job due to lack of new skills.

I imagine it wasn't always so. I'm sure beforehand this now dried lump one was indistinguishable from its mates. It might have had a job sure, but it was a nomad. It moved freely through a complex system, changing to suit its environment, just as I once did. I was fresh out of high school, and had so many possibilities. I had a girlfriend, a promising future; overall I had a life. I was an up and comer. If it weren't for my wife's traumatic death, I probably would have been successful. Come to think of it, that probably happened to the lump as well: life threw it a loop and it couldn't handle the change.

Things that don't change get behind the times; they become obsolete. Life has ways of removing those who serve no function. Just as easily as I plucked this irritation, so could life pluck me. If I were to go, how would others remember me? I would be forgotten. Long past my prime, and unyielding to the times, I would be remembered as an irritation that was (thank goodness) removed. That’s not how I wanted to be remembered. I was a caring guy who loved his wife deeply. I hadn't been popular and she was the guiding light of my life. Every success I had I owed to her. Her loss had put me into a rut. I no longer had the courage she gave me. I was nothing more than the underweight asthmatic nerd who didn't know which end of the putter you used to hit the puck into the field for a home run.

As I flung the booger into a nearby trash can, I was filled with resolve. My wife wouldn't want me to give up. She would want me to live life even better, since I had to live for both of us. Even as the booger shattered into its many unfulfilled hopes and dreams, mine grew and swelled. I could hear my wife's words of encouragement as 15 years of pain and sorrow turned into a surge of motivation. As I reeled my life back together, I felt my wife's spirit welling up in my chest, giving me life, and I knew she was proud of me. I know now it was her who arranged my incident with the snot, and it was her who, in her infinite creativity, reached out to me and made my life worth living again.

The Prophecy

Several generations ago, a group of mystics(those who deal with aural energy and its manifestation) began to have visions of and ending of their world. An ending of energy, magic, and all matters of the soul. A rather unlikely collection, but bound by their belief of the prophecy and innate desire to pevent it. Now known as the Originators, they created trough the binding of pieces of their own essence into a new soul, later to be incarnated as a Guardian. Not much was known about the bad thing or how it was to be brought about. Only that would be brought with time and vision. The guardian exists today, and the originators are reincarnated. A new revelation shows that during the guardian's creation, one other threw their portion in, upseting the balance the originators wanted. It caused theguardian to have a heart, concience, and a concept of morality. This abberation to design caused minor problems at first, but the guardian was eventually brought about to his duty and life design. Recently, the Guardian has conferred with the originator who had the vison, and now it is evident that one of the originators in this incarnation will prove to be the invoker of the bad thing. Another complication is the guardian recently has ben unable to vent his growing frustration and anger. It has been growing and the only thing that can satiate the guardian has been denied him. What is the guardian to do?

Epic mediocrity

on the first day, He, The One, the Almighty went forth on a quest to create gaiety and frolic. Forth from his haven he set, mounted upon the steed of choice towards his fellow god's home.

His fellow god Rickomemnon was upon completion of his suit of power, drawing upon the unsurmountable power of the triforce as he did so. Lo, did he complete the garb, and don it so, and it was good for it was made by a god.

From rickomemnon's haven the two gods flew, for tey were yet not finished gathering the revelry for the nights creation.

Upon His mighty steed the two gods flew, and headed to join two minor gods, Timmonicus and Owentioch.

Ah, but the two minor gods had a steed of their own, Timmonicus' father, god of the vantheon, had delivered them to rickommemnon's haven shortly after His departure.

Reunion was in quick order, and it was made so. Much revelry and gaiety took place, and the armour that the gods wore made them giddy, in that they commissioned portraits of themselves in various stages of embarrassment.

Forthwith the foursome fled to seek out entertainment, and the thought of humor and hte relentless chant of "dicks pussies and assholes" soon filled the gods' many heads.

Alas! the barbarians of Valhalla did not serve the inteneded entertainment! So the gods withdrew to the colleseum to make merry with the mortals.

Within hot topic, the foursome encounteered a most fascinating mortal, with beauty surpassing athena and aphrodite. it made them giddy and drunk, and they anced and made merry, mocking west side story and other manner of tom foolery.

After the exciting games they gods required food and drink, and went to feast upon ambrosia and pop.

Ah, the ambrosia was sweet, and the pop slaked their thirst. The tender to the fields gave them helms to commemorate the occasion, and they did enjoy the helms, for they were enjoyable.

Lo! The promised land of Walmart called! And so did these gods enter and make merrry. Upon the entrance, the gods were approached by an elder who had been filled with the feremented juice of the grape, as well as fair maidens whom semed sent as through providence. Providence indeed, for when the gods exited the promised land, the steed was adorned with the preonal objects of the maidens! The cloth used to vclense the full buttocks of the maidens streamed about hte steed. the soft cotton and its sheath used to stave the vile flow of the maidens infant blood hung about the antennae. The priceless spread of the salve to keep the maiden's underarms free of the stench of the dark gods adorned the sides, and were inscribed with glyphs of encouragement and joy.

Ah, but one god was missing. Antionius.

So the gods went forth to join with antonius,and along the way, were to spur many of the wild beasts to raise horn and blow loud.

and so antonius and te gods travelled to antonius' haven, and there they made merry and danced.

then the gods traveled forth to the haven of Rickomemnon. Alas, but the darg gods sent folly their way.

It was fortunate for te gods that hunger overtook them, and had gone to the valhalla of Meat N' Mead to converse with maidens of fleshly enticement and target practice, elsewise they may have fallen to the folly.

The dark god Bambino had sent a minion to spread panic among the mortals, creating chaos and death upon the road to haven.

Many hours they waited, until finally a detour was created, after the gods sent others onto the way to the chosen path.

Ahh, the gods returned to the haven and adjourned to the sublevels of the palace. There, the gods made merry and ended not with greatful slumber but with the joyous entertainment of mortal fornication.

And so did the night close, and the world was at peace.

Epic Average

First I (with much trial and error) tracked down the elusive habitat of the Phenoxia Timracer. Then, using sacred signaling devices from the distant future, summoned (with the help of my faithful avatar and Noble steed) the knights of the round table for some less than selfless fun.

We convened at my Palace of Indulgence where intoxication abounded and ...less than perfect Italian food was conceived, created, and consumed.

Then, one knave of the realm said, "Ho! I doth believe present company should adjourn to the Pit of the Beast"

And with that, so did the group of knights adjourn to mine room, and to my room did the nights travel, being as that was their destination. And lo, much decadance and vulgarities made themselves apparent, and the count of 3 men and 2 ladies arranged themselves about. The 5 lounged for there were the 3 men and 2 ladies, the total of knights being 5 and 5 being the count of the knights.

Once satiated, the knights split, two of them going to the hall of indulgence, two to the forbidden chasm of self-flaying doom, and the lord to retire to his chambers to listen to his enchanted minstels. Thence one of the lady knights entered, questioning the situation. And like a drop of water entering a pond, so did ythe ripple grow and more entered the lords chamber. And the lord felt better, for his fellow knights were enjoying themselves.

Later on, fellow knight Ricktonion Barionadagualaga questioned the lords state of mind. At the time, the lord had no idea, but it has since become clearer. The lord's mind is confused atwixt his fancy for a lady knight. Should said Knight Ricktonion, being the knight who questioned, and the questioning knight being him read this, there lieth thy answer!

Once the palace of indulgence was properly used, the knights then traveled to a distant and magical realm known as "Easton" There, they watched in awe as Beasts and Men alike frolicked on the flat of a screen in a play portraying the epic adventures of an ogre. The films characters doth touched the hearts of both lord and knights, as the film portrayed friends of those known to the knights, as well as the phrase which plagues my soul: If you love them, you'll let them go. After all, Ogres don't have happy endings.

Once the frolicking was over, the various knights mounted their steeds and thence left my company, returning to that where they hailed.

The next day... work work, and the usual more work

How to kill

Have you ever had a day where you really wanted to kill someone? I don't mean anybody specific, but just wanting to feel somebodys life force leave their body as you wrest it from them. Thats how i feel right now. I'm not gonna kill somebody tonight. I got low gas and i have bills to pay coming up. So i'll just write about it.
First i need a subject. They need to be rather unsuspecting, so either a stranger or a close personal friend. Given the circumstances, anybody outside is probably thinking about the possibility of getting mugged, so lets choose a personal friend. This is perfect. Since they are a close personal friend, I know where they live, their number, their habits, and can anticipate their actions. Also, say i'm seen, their first reaction is not to call the policew or be fearful; on the contrary, they shall be open and inviting, wondering what is wrong(how little they know...)

Now that a person category has been established, it is now time to prioritize. It would be a good idea to choose somebody not living withing my normal circle of friends, so it must be somebody living out of reynoldsburg, and somebody who, while we are close, i am not seen in their normal area on a regular basis.
Now that locale is chosen, i onle need to pick the most convenient and least diffucult to remove. Their persona should be somewhat insecure about themselves, probably someone on an extreme: introvert or extrovert. Also, there shuld be somebody with reason to kill the target. (i have no motive save the joy of death) Maybe a jealous significant other, enemy, a used best friend etc.
The murder shuld be done at their home, where they feel most secure. And since they are a god friend, I could even be invited over, and since i have no problems with the target, motive could not be established.
Night time would be best. Its more dramatic, plus the cover of night. The weather should be rainy to help cover tracks.

Now the method. I'd prefer something face to face. Tie them down spread eagle upside down and hang them from the wall. All i would need is some two by fours rope and screws. After i tellthem its nothing personal, i break their shins. Hearing them scream, I'll pull out a scalpel anda pair of strong spreaders. Cutting the muscle and skin on their chest, i'll unfold their torso like a book, exposing the ribcage. Using the spreaders, I'll crack open and sread their ribcage open, exposing their heart. I'llthen grab their hand in mine, and use it to rip their own heart out of their chest, drinking from it like a chalice in front of them, their last life's spark fading behind eyes soaked with blood. Then i'd pour cooking oil over them, and leave a trinket that one of my friends so often leave behind at the apartment. Then on the way home I'll mail the heart to coney island.
The next morning, i'll get up, get ready for work, and continue with life.

And now a story.

It chanced upon a summer's day,
Within a deep wood far away,
There wandered forth a little child
Midst flowers and birds and breezes wild.

Now running here, now resting there,
As bright, as light, as free as air,
The happy little Hyacinth strayed,
From flower to flower, by sun and shade.

A wind called Zephyr saw him pass
With skipping feet across the grass,
And ran before and clung behind,
And strove his tripping feet to bind.

Because the Zephyr loved him so,
He would not let that fair child go,
But kept beseeching, "Stay, and be
A little playfellow to me!"

Still Hyacinth had naught to say,
Nor would he with the Zephyr stay,
But skipped aside and left the wind
Another playfellow to find.

And next the sun up in the air
Caught sight of Hyacinth's shining hair,
As Hyacinth ran the tall trees under,
And King Apollo paused in wonder.

"Stop! Hyacinth," cried King Apollo,
"You run too quick for me to follow;
One little minute wait for me,
And I your playfellow will be."

Because Apollo from the blue
Had fallen in love with Hyacinth too,
So down he came with smiling face
And stayed upon a mossy place.

There sun and child in merry play
Sported full many an hour away,
"Who can throw farthest, you or I?
This ring I'll cast, then you shall try."

But Zephyr, creeping round about,
Spied their pleasant pastime out,
Which made him angry feel and sore,
And he grew angrier more and more,

Until a cruel purpose grew,
And he determined what to do;
His wicked will at once consenting
Unto the crime of his inventing.

For as the King, in act to fling,
Raised high in air the iron ring,
Zephyr ran and took his stand
Just underneath Apollo's hand.

Thence blew the ring back swift and straight,
Steady and strong with all its weight,
So that it struck on Hyacinth's head,
And lo! the pretty child fell dead!

Then all about the leafy wood
There streamed out Hyacinth's purple blood,
Which wrote in letters sad and plain,
"Woe! Woe! for Hyacinth is slain!"

Back to the sky Apollo flew,
And far away the Zephyr blew;
But on the ground where Hyacinth died
Sweet flowers grew and multiplied.

Hyacinths that, with happy faces,
Still beautify earth's lonely places,
Loved by the sun and breezes wild,
In memory of the winsome child.

Answer the phone. It might be me.
Sweet dreams.

The jewel

ok. very odd. I was daydreaming ( i know its night, but i was awake...) and i was walking along the beach, with a treasure floating, just beyond my reach. I knew not why, but the jewel was the only thing that mattered to me. I needed it, and as I strove to grasp it, A genie issued from it, who told me that someday i could gain the treasure. I tried as hard a I could, doing anything i could. Then ohers came, trying to grasp the jewel from me. I would not let them. Then I saw a good friend, and he was in need, so I let him ahead of me. he came up, and then allowed me passage, only to pluck the jewel from my grasp as my fingers were about to close around it. I fall, what seems forever. Before I hit the sand, I hear the genie say that I never had a chance and laughed at my tears. The universe then exploded around me, the shards piercing my soul. As I die, I see the jewel, it beckons me, but i cannot move to grasp it, and it's radience is my last vision.

The Bigger Man

This is the story a group of friends and their trials of love. It may deal with teenagers, but that doesn't mean that the feelings are any less there than in any other relationship. The trial of love we will focus on is the love of Bernard towards Anastasia. Like any classic story, this plot also as a villain, the one in this story being the infamous Peter. Peter and Bernard had been best enemies since the seventh grade. I say best enemies because that never liked each other, but worked together so well they couldn't ignore the fact. Now, I am getting a little ahead of myself. Why don't we take a look at how events unfold? Here comes Bernard and Anastasia walking down the hall now.

Bernard: What do you have to do after school today?

Anastasia: The usual. Math homework, Government, and that short story due tomorrow in creative writing.

Bernard: quite the slacker, aren't you?

Anastasia: (smiling) Shut up you butthead! (slaps Bernard)

Bernard: (laughing) ok ok. You win. Want some help later on your math homework?

Anastasia: Sure. I'll meet you in the library after 8^th period and go to my house. That ok?

Bernard: Just fine with me.

(Peter walks up)

Peter: Hellllllllllo!

Bernard: Yo.

Anastasia: Hi Peter. How are you?

Peter: Oh just wonderful. I've got this need to sing…(whisks Anastasia off her feet and dances to an imaginary tune. Anastasia is laughing. Bernard smiles complacently and sits in a corner)

Bernard: (to self) Well, those two sure make a happy couple. He's always outgoing, and she eats it right up. I'll never be able to do that. Lucky him. If only he weren't so damn annoying…

Anastasia: Bernard?

Bernard: Huh? Wha?

Anastasia: I've been calling your name now for like 5 minutes. Are you ok? You've seemed kinda down lately.

Bernard: What do you mean down?

Anastasia: well, ever since like two weeks ago, you've been awful quiet and brooding.

Bernard: (thinking) That was the time Peter told me he liked you and wanted my help. (aloud) It's nothing. Just some personal problems. Nothing to worry about.

Anastasia: Ok…. You'll let me know if there's anything I can do, right?

Bernard: You'll be the first to know.

Anastasia: (giving him a hug) I'll always be here for you if you need me.

Bernard: (thinking) this just makes it harder and harder to do. I promised Peter I'd set you two up, and yet right now everything just seems so right… I can't do this (breaks hug) (aloud) thanks for the assurance. I appreciate that. (glances at clock) I've gotta run. My next class is really far away.

(hurries off, almost in tears)

8^th period

It's now time for Anastasia and Bernard to do math. She picks him up from the side of the school and I driving him over to her house. Bernard has just remembered his promise to Peter

Bernard: Hey Anastasia. I've got a question.

Anastasia: Shoot.

Bernard: Do you and Peter have anything going on between you two?

Anastasia: No, we're just friends. Nothing more. (looks at Bernard) Why?

Bernard: No reason. Watch out for the road.

Anastasia narrowly misses a rabbit. It breaks the tension in the air, and the two continue talking. They do return home and do math until about 10 or so in the evening. Things seem to be going well for Bernard, and he forgets all about Peter. He's even almost mustered the courage to ask Anastasia out himself.

Next Day

Bernard comes strolling to school, feeling like a million dollars. He's ready to pop the question to Anastasia. He's going to ask her out. That is, he was until he sees the cafeteria. There, in his seat, is Anastasia and Peter, kissing. Gritting his teeth, he walks up.

Bernard: good morning all. Did I miss any excitement?

Peter: Yeah. Anastasia and I are going out.

Bernard: Good luck. I wish you both happiness.

Peter: Too bad the bigger man won, huh?

Bernard: Call it what you will. Nothing lasts forever.

Peter: What exactly do you mean by that?

Bernard: I'll wait as long as needed. Till then however, I step down.

Anastasia: Excuse me, what are you two talking about?

Peter: Don't worry about it. Guy stuff. You wouldn't understand.

Anastasia: Wouldn't understand, huh?

Bernard: He's right. Its too complex for anybody to solve. Oh well, nothing wrong with being just friends. Take care you two.

Emotinally distraught, Bernard writes a letter to Anastasia, expressing how he feels for her. In it he expressed how he felt and, no matter what Peter may say, he knows in his heart that he is the bigger man, not Peter. Once the letter was written, Bernard closed his windows, took a bunch of his mother's sleeping pills, and passed away peacefully in the night, with one thought on his mind: Love conquers all, but a broken heart conquers love.

Break wisely.