A Year Today

A Year Today:

A year ago today I was kissing, what I thought, the man of my dreams to be. A year ago today, I was quieter than I thought. A year ago today, I was standing on the edge of an abyss. I didn't know it at the time. I thought it was the start of something magical, and all I had to do was make it to the end of the winter. Spring would breath new life into me and I would travel the world and be happy.

I had no idea how far I would fall, how high I would rise, and the fresh challenges that would await, trying every bone of my body and the strength of my spirit, beyond anything I've ever experienced before.

They call it Love I suppose.



They split again in the night. He's frustrated and split in two over this. Oh the poor broken boy. I his heart so shaken from everything, pulling and pulling to the point that he's losing bits of himself. When you're pulled so hard, it cracks the cage we put around the worst bits of our personalities.

But I jump a head. I'm forgetting that I dreamed of him, in my fevered state. It wasn't the usual, heated desire. It wasn't the hunting for him through a sea of faces or down empty corridors. It was a monster, grim in its grey skin and long black over coat, cruel eye, hurting him, hunting for him. And I was the only thing that stood between it and him. I was't afraid when I fought it, with my bare fists. And I knew he was behind me scared but I need to help him. I don't recall how it ended. But I felt strong. Good about the dream.

I'm tired. I've been unwell from illness and it makes most things I do weighty and heavy on the body.

He's tired. He needs to go away and make a change in himself. He's so scared to break this person.

As is tradition in our visits, its small talk first an, lately, he renovates his home as we speak. He was rather surprised by how unwell I was. He's surprised too.

Then we start speaking about his weekend. I will never divulge the full details, its too much. Its a heavy burden he puts upon himself there.

He tells me the things spoke between him and her, and the words I came to say suddenly feel useless again in my mouth. They split, as I rushed to say above, but then, in the morning, got back together again after a long. talk. He needs to get out he says.

This part, this part they spoke of, scares me most, is that, in January, when she takes her holiday, she'll spend two weeks at his place. Fear roared through me.

No, no, no, no. 

And then an empty void of terror.

We're going to talk about everything, and see that at the end of the two weeks, if we think we should try, then we do, and if not then we don't.

He's told her he wants to leave, get out of here. This was never his scene. It was a reprieve from it all. It sit in silence in a monastery with monks and quiet thought, and yoga. I know why. It brings him peace. He needs it, to tell you truthfully, because its the only thing I can do. But, he suggest if it works with her, than maybe she'll go. I don't think so. And I don't mean that as the biased person. I mean it as a friend who sees another friend struggling. I mean that because he needs to find his centre with out someone there. Without complications. I might reiterate that when next I see him.

They talked about me too. If you do want to be with her, then don't do it right after we break up, she says. He reminds her, that we're just friends and that I'm flirting with guys at the hostel. Kill the scent you know?

I'm not that kind of person anyway. I know people need space in those times, after break ups. And I'm not that kind of person who flirts and hands out my self. I am, unfortunately all heart.

I start crying of course, when I tell him I'm sorry I'm not strong when I should be, and I tell him when he's hurt me, and why it did. In all his sense he tells me its okay and its both our faults on strength, and that he won't do the second thing again. We've had a trying month.

My tears get to much and I'm sad and I'm scared and I'm hurting from it all. So he hugs me and sets up the new Hobbit movie, which I was stubborn to watch. I wanted to keep talking and I know movies distract me easily. we curl up on the couch and I shpeel some useless facts about the nature of Smaug, the history of Middle Earth and all those delightful fun facts. We have a bit of lasagna and I'm not very hungry from the stress and lack of eating during this illness. He's stressed, muscles tense and tired from all the work he's done, and other things, so I give him a hand massage. Its not erotic, nor hyped its comfort, and we end up with our fingers twinned.

The movie ends, and we end up talking. About light things mostly, hostel life. What we thought of each other when we first met. It's hard to think that far back. There's so much that's come after. He said he thought I was Gorgeous and that CD was being a masochistic twat as usual.

He never told me, that he told BB that he fancied trying to be with me, in Shnecky. It frustrates me when I hear that. The closeness I missed. I remember being worried about him and wondering where he was. It frustrated me, thinking back on my niavite. Think of all the things I could have stopped.

I tell him I think of how things could have been if I had stayed and what we'd be doing now if nothing happened. He told me it was she that called him, in the summer, and he would have been glad not to hear anything from her. It would have been fine. I keep proving myself in his eyes, in loyalty, in honesty. He hopes, for it would make it easier, that I would unprove myself. That I would kiss or lie with another, just to prove his insecurities. Yet I don't and I prove myself again and again. .

I've done everything right, so why am I being punished? What did I do in my life?

I don't want to break her heart... I turn my head sharply ....or yours.

I remind him of the stuff that She's done, and why it sometimes makes no sense to me. Why everything she's done makes no sense to me. She is a nice person, but she's broken your trust. You're both built on broken trust. Its like building a house on sand.

We'll see what the two weeks will bring to each other.

So I wont see you for two weeks? There's a sadness to my voice. And it is, its a scared sort of sad.

Before, certainly. I'm not certain I'm going to be going for New Year. I'm tired of the scene. But not while she's here.

My legs lay across his lap and I'm holding his finger. I want to fall asleep, here warm, cozy and safe. I tell him I missed him the most when I was sickest. Little chat flicks between the heavy and the soft. We play, and then we're serious. We speak of movies and pretend to be Hannibal, then he tells me his heart sinks every time I cry.

He says he knows there's something special between us, a friendship that goes beyond just friends. Its a connection and he won't lose that, for he know's its what I fear most of all. We have this lovely connection, and he said, poor She doesn't know what forces she's contending with.

I kiss his forehead. I have to go, he reminds me.

On the way out the door, I put on my new headphones. He takes them, nicely and puts them on his ears, shuffling through. Briefly dancing at MC Hammers song put in the first Ninja turtles, he stops on Your Song. Its a pretty song, and he puts the sound up and presses his forehead against mine. I listen to Elton John's words through someone else's lips and I know he can hear my thoughts.

We part, and I'm full of drunk confidence. Its still holding out a bit, but I know it won't last. My insecurities get the best of me.

It was a good evening though, the news was interesting, stressful, but news nevertheless, and I was comforted by his warmth and his presence, his touch and words.

The Song We Listened too.

And its original.

Beyond Compare

What do I do? Just sick and sad lonely.

Unwell

I'm sick. I'm really sick. If there's one thing that makes me sour, sad and lonely is being sick.

I'm very sick right now. I have a fever. My head pressing on my temples, body aching. My mind has been bothering me since August. Will I get peace one day?

I'm lonely to begin with, but it makes me feel feel worse when I'm sick. I'm usually quiet strong, usually, but when I'm sick, I desire someone just to be there for me.

I'm not really a huge fan of Christmas either. I can't place it this year, but I'm just feeling empty about it. Ah well.

3rd of December - The Big Secret

New Moon.

Sun and Cloud

You held me on the floor trying to make me feel better when nothing can be changed for you. It does for a time. I tremble with thoughts of leaving. Its hard to do. Hold me a little longer on the floor and listen to my stories, and I'll listen to yours.


Teach me things and don't push me away.

I like you,  I wept into his chest.

I like you too, Was his answer, holding me.

I rise and hold his gaze, Then, why did you say anything about us?

Trust Me To Say I'm Scared

You think of me with your heart? You said that and therefore there's some truth to it. Let me just run with this for now. Heart is a big thing. I get that, important. And from my understanding, strong. It means there's something big there.

And you think of her with your mind. Of course with your heart as well,because you put everyone there. Is it because she's safer? I feel like I've brought this up before, but I just want to affirm this. 

So, from my understanding, your afraid. Of two things. Firstly your afraid of Trust. You say you have this big secret, and I'm not prying about it, but your afraid it will scare me away, then I'm under the understanding you don't trust that I can handle it because if I don't handle it then I'll leave, and reject you and you are afraid of abandonment. Its not the Secret, its the fear of my leaving your heart and the change.

Its easier with her because its not as deep, its not as strong. Your afraid of hurting her because your afraid of abandonment, and loss in your life. People are important to you.

I want to ask you to trust me, and I want to ask you to believe in me, that I wont hurt you. I wont. I don't run from my problems and I don't abandon people. I'm not asking you to tell me. I'm just asking you to smile, and not be afraid, because fear is the greatest monster we can face.

I can hear and see your smiles when we're around each other. Its such a struggle and I wish it would stop, for you. I wish you courage, because someone before has taken it from you.

I had a dream of you last night. We were part of a military organization and they were trying to keep us apart. We beat them though.

My heart hurts from absences and I miss you. Happy days and I hope to hear from you.

No Tears This Time

Just because there was no tears this time, doesn't mean it changes how I feel.

Swinging by after a nice quiet morning, it started, as we always do, with a conversation about the weekend. A nice one on one conversation. Its tense and yet I don't cry.

I'm waiting to go to bed, or fall asleep.

After all the good times, I have the urge to keep them going.

It started on a drizzly day. We got to go for a nice walk together. I meant it for the sake of just going out and doing something together.

But there was a lot said on the weekend. There was a lot done on the weekend. There was a lot wanted to be said and done. So we spoke, as we do, and I reminded him of everything, what he whispered in my ear.

He said he shouldn't be having those thoughts, but he was, so why? And what did they say?  He wants to come around for my birthday, really desperate to do so. Because he doesn't think he's going to see me on Christmas. I know why. It makes me really sad actually.

It does because I associate Christmas with the people I'm closest with and I wish he would be there for it. And I don't want this to turn into Halloween. I wish he could be there for Christmas Eve. That's the most important day for me.

We set out in a direction different from what we usually do. I'd never been this way. The landscape rolled  away in orange grasses and purple heather.  There are patches of thick mossy green.  The road twists and turns around bends, past groves.

The air is damp, and I'm traveling down a road I don't know. He's on my left. Once or twice we pause and examined the view or traveled along the side of the road, looked at the quaintness of the cottages. I liked the cows and bulls. Speaking of friends and people.  We play foot ball with a rock and hear someone hunting in the hills.

We started talking about personal, physical things. Stories. We're giving each other eyes again, desire. And he wonders why it is this way. I wonder too.

We have to go back and I'm reluctant, but I make no noise of it. I'm so pleased. It’s a pleasant experience and we're both happy. We came down into the town, through to his house and he wonders about how long it will last and if she really is his girlfriend.

We stop at his house and he tells me she'll be dropping by. I am ready. I can handle this, but I'm not happy about it. In fact, I wear no makeup because I know the tears will come from some point. I can handle it, again, I am drunk on it, and I know he'll be by in the evening. I give a big hug, then a second because sometimes I'm worried I'll never get one again.

Between hugs, he gives me a squeeze on my peach. It’s a break. Something happened. Something is going to happen.

We hug once more, and I feel safe.

Later in the evening, he comes by there are eyes passed between and he stays on, after SR (New Manager) goes to bed and we get a good bye hug before he goes. I just want to make it last, or sneak into his car with him.  So I just hug again, a strong heavy hug.

He goes to his car and I wave good bye from the door way.

I'm stressed. She stresses me out.  She upsets me because I feel like she took something from me.  She stresses me out because she keeps me from sharing how I feel. She stresses me out because she keeps me from sharing with him. She upsets me because he's not happy. She upsets me because she made him feel guilty. She upsets me because she made him feel trapped. She upsets me because she cannot see. She upsets me because… I like him and I miss him.

This Is A Gift, It Comes With A Price

I sat beside the fire last night, wrapped in a soft blanket. The heat was warm.

Sometimes I'm bad for keeping myself in check, sometime he is. The first night was him and the second mine.

The first night we made our way to the pub and then the club, as we do. I can tell the week didn't go the greatest for him. I can read the stress on him. I worry about it. If its too much, I can see it on his face, read it on his person and the way he acts. Friday was one of those nights. I had to go to the loo, there was a strange old man following me about and I needed to hide from him. I made my way to the bathroom, pausing at the door I turn and see King there, right behind me.

He' drunk. I'm drunk. Nothing happens.

Why are you so good? Why can't you just be bad? Why can't you just sleep with JS? It would be so much easier. You know it wouldn't be. You know that's the easy way out. I know but I... She freaked out at the party in Pit. And then she and my mom freaked out too. 

What can I say. Nothing.

You're so beautiful, inside and out. 

Eventually it was time to go. I was doing very well. LG and I lead him out to the street, beer in hand, we walked/staggered back to the hostel. In the walk he kept letting little things slip about us. He wanted to sleep next to me in the worst way. It would be easy with LG because she would make it look platonic.

He wants to sleep with me and hold me. He wants to feel safe.

Arriving at the hostel, we got the calendar girl shot for September, I promise not to send it to that place. He's scared and starts talking about how he feels. LG is there and hears it all.

I like Her my head, but I like her {me} with my heart. I don't know what to do.

The answer is obvious isn't it? Go with your heart? LG asks.

I've heart my heart before. He feels so much fear that its holding him back. Strength. He needs it so bad, and insight into how to live by honesty and truth.  

LG knows everything now. She can see the static between us. The lightning. It is nice in a way, and I'm glad for it. Someone can see, and she sees the truth.

Pajamas. We decide to get P.Js on. LG goes to the bedroom, I go to the laundry room where my cloths are.  He follows. I'm there in black silk and teal green, shivering in the chill that inhabits that room. His hands fall on the black cloth, drawing me close.

I want you so bad. 

I want you too, but we can't. I'm being the strong one again. One hand rests on my waist, the other cradles my chin, brushing back my curls. My hands are against his chest. Heat radiates from him, and his heart hammers against the palm of my right hand. I want you so bad right now. I wish I could just... His touch, the words, it sends a shiver through my body, and I'm backed against the wall. My heart hammers in my chest and I can feel his course bristles against my skin.

Another shiver. Another sharp breath in my lungs.

I lock eyes with him and he comes in, it's almost a kiss if I didn't move my head, and I hold him against me. He's frustrated, I can hear it in my ears. Feel it in my body. I'm pressed. I want to break down this stupid distance. I want to embrace the heat rising through my body and take him in my arms as much as he wants to take me. I want there to be no guilt or pain, but happiness, like their used to be.

But it can't be if its like this, secret.

Not now, I whisper, one day. Not now.

We make our way back to the lounge and I settle on his right, LG on his left. Under the warm blanket I feel his hand on my leg. He wants to reach and I want him to reach, but he doesn't. exhausted from the lateness of the hour, we doze before heading off to bed.





Come morning he follows me down for breakfast. I remind him of what he said and did last night.

We had lovely hangover breakfast of cheesy noodles. A day of showering and warm water, some walks around the place. Relaxing. After we eat, and my headphones are in my ears, remnants of working and dancing, but they're playing no sound. I rise, and as I pass him, take the jack for them and put it where his heart is. He smiles and says I'm sweet.

We all went out again the next night. He's wearing one of my favourite shirts. All of us share in dinner

It was my turn to be weak. I could feel the need to be around him pulse through me. I just wanted it to be simple and us to be happy. But It wasn't. Leaving the Second Place, he decided to walk me back towards the hostel, a different way. A way no one else would go. Its a slow walk up hill, through the back place, through the park with wet grass and a heart surging with questions.

I tell him it is his turn to be the strong one, because I can't help myself. He sits on the swing, balanced, and he holds as much fear as I do. I confess that I feel bad for her, for the fear she feels, and tell him that I'm not done, or out of this.

I'm suddenly pinched with the desire to not go back. I'm so stressed. I hate everything and I want it to stop. He leads me back though. We have to be good and no one else needs to know. He leads me back, singing Little Lion Man. We go to bed and he ends up sleeping across and holding my stuffed cow, worried when he woke and could not hold it.

Dawn brings work, a late breakfast and lounging in the lounge from two until eleven at night. I can feel his eyes on me and I have to work hard not to look at him. There's a warm fire, good food and a fine discussion of a hundred different things in life. I can feel the heat on my skin, the rapture of friendship and hear the heart beating of contented folk. It is a good relaxing day, and at the end of the night, when he has to go home I get three big, strong hugs, and can smell him through his shirt, and feel his warmth.

It is, in the end, a good night, but my bed is still empty.

Waking Up In A Cold, Empty Bed

A Side Exploration.

Its gotten cold out, and there was a wicked storm last night.

I wondered, as I walked down the street, about the idea of villainy and of the idea that people think its easier for me to move on because I'm young and beautiful. That always seems to be the case. Or they fear me because of my beauty. Can you imagine that? Fear me because of my beauty? Can you imagine what its like to be feared? Of course, if you're power hungry, its a lovely thing.

But I'm not. Someone fears me. It means they're so scared, and unconfident and insecure in their own strengths, that they use it. It fills me with pity, something no one loves to have given to them. I wish I could sit down beside them, and talk to them, to understand. I am so sad, because I know what it's like to be scared and its not a nice feeling.

To say about myself that I am beautiful, is not a statement of vanity and its not something I like to boast about. This was how I was born, and this is what I grew up to be. No one should feel less or more because of their appearance.

But I feel its used as an instrument. She's young and beautiful. These are such superficial things. Firstly Age is defined by how long one lives. I don't actually know that. No one does, save for death. I could (but hopefully not) get run over, or struck down with illness. In accordance with the time, I would be indeed young for societies life expectancy standards, but in my life, I would be at the end, old and over.

I am sad again, not heavy, just a passing feeling of the day, because I miss him.I can't help a hurting heart.  I was drunk on the feelings that I get when we're together. I wish I was drunk on them again.

Because I'm scared. My beauty is not something I hold on to. Its not the thing that is going to make me happy. It's not the thing that I depend on for happiness, nor my age.

Youth and beauty are the things that the Queen in Snow White desired and in the end, it destroyed her, and her ugliness shone through because of it. I should wrap my feelings up, hold back and be demure. Sitting quiet and cold as people dance about me. Bite my tongue and silence will be my jail. I should fall on my knees and surrender, accept this blade at my throat. Bottle until my silence, my bones fill with anger, until I take in my hand a poison apple and strike happiness from another.














Well, I will not.

I will tell the truth when its needed. I will use silence as a weapon and not as a chain to hold me down. I will sing when my heart needs to, when your heart needs to hear it. Upon my knees I fall, but to sit and wait in patience, for you to come sit beside me, for we all fall once and a while. Even in my fear, I will hold the little light I have against the darkness. I will wait, to feel your warm hand, and to carry each other together through the storm.

The Good Day, The Good Night, The Good Morning

In a two day fun stint, I lay in his arms again.

The first time was in the bed with others. Cradled in a safe place, in my place. I remember words he's said before. Your the only one I can sleep, holding, all night. We sword fought the next day with Mumford and Sons singing in my ears and I am happy. Despite the pouring rain, we make it outside and to the First place.

Lots of food, curly fries, and the first drink are taken up and we cheer to good times. To the Usual Place next and the place we stay for most of the day playing pool. As always, we end up on the same team and cream nearly everyone, though it's mostly his skill. We're called the dream team and I'm drunk on friendship and happiness. The stress melts. The to a live band. Then to a club.

We two spend the day together and I keep becoming tangled in Memory.

We stagger back to his place, I'll lay on the couch, you lay in your bed. We hold hands and take the back way, up stairs. I want to show you the stars one day. 

I want you to show me them one day. 

We make it back and its tea and hot water on the couch to watch Forest Gump. The feather falls and we fall asleep almost immediately. Move to somewhere more comfortable, the bed. Its purple again. I settle in the sheets and there we fall asleep, in the safe place.

I lay in bed, his bed. We weren't supposed to go there. I wasn't supposed to go back. But I knew it. was going to happen. We both wanted sleep so bad

Then morning came and it was time to go. Wrapped in his arms, he in mine, I rise to check my phone. His hand runs down the length of my back. Soon it will be time to go. Why does this happen on days I work? I turn back, I have to go soon, I say, looking down at him. I want to kiss him so bad. Does he feel the same, with his hand on the base of my back? I settle back beside him and run my hands along his neck and ears.

We were Sober.

I notice that he keeps the Inukhuk and card I gave him on the table beside his chair, and the Walrus on his Tv in his bedroom.

Its a good day, a mixed day for him. We want each other and we can't have each other. He has made previous commitments. What happens when those don't work out?

He's with her this week at a party we were all going to attend. I can wait. I'm struck by it but

I savoir the little pieces of happiness. And I am going to meet his mother.

Unmentioned Things

He's on the island now. Well, I'm not sure if he's not back yet. I haven't heard anything. It makes me nervous. He's a man of his word though, and I would truly like to remain friends with him. Lately though, I can't seem to get the old spring time memories out of my head. They're deep, personal and full of joy. There was little to none in the way of conflict, no jealousy, no sadness, no pressure. It was as it should be.

But patience is everything. I've been keeping busy with drawing, and they're turning out really well. My shading has improved. But the things I am drawing are from my spring time memories. They're deep, personal and only he and I will know what they mean. All I can seem to draw are memories.

Should I show him when he comes back?

I miss him...

I have another relationship emerging problem. One of the puppies likes me. I'm more than confident of it. SJ has taken a fancy to me. I was uncertain of it before but I've noticed little things, changes over the past few weeks. I feel bad for him, because it is not him that my thoughts are filled with.

The thing that I noticed though, is his come to mimic the people I seem to give more attention to. It was Him first. They're from the same country but their accents are strikingly different, and I can see when he tries to mimic it. Additionally we were hanging out with IR (my former manager who's moved to France) and because he's a funny fellow, I was laughing a good deal at his jokes. SJ Stared mimicking him as well. I was a little disappointed in his poor behavior. He would not have made me step down. I don't like being bossed, rushed or put off my purpose of track. The conclusion is that I'm not interested. We don't mesh the same way. There's a lack of patience and deeper understanding. There's no age.

And I couldn't get him out of my head through out the days. Ah well.

This is the new start now. In writing this I've received word of His return. We'll see what happens now that the Island Journey has passed.

The Last Hours Before Dawn

New Phone

Come With Me

Peace and Tea

When the Morning Comes

Safe Haven 

Quote

"Sexy doesn’t impress me. Smart impresses me, strength of character impresses me. But most of all, I am impressed by kindness. Kindness, I think, comes from learning hard lessons well, from falling and picking yourself up. It comes from surviving failure and loss. It implies an understanding of the human condition, forgives its many flaws and quirks. When I see that in someone, it fills me with admiration."

Virginia and the Long Guy Fox Day

It started simply.

I was beside myself come Monday. A weekend of absense after everything that happened leaves me stressed to say the least.

It was a long day, mixed bag, and started the same as it always does. I come in, as tense as I bungee cord, scared even, and sit in the kitchen, and we start talking. It starts with easy conversation  Small talk and what we've been doing

Then it gets really heavy.

She was supposed to come to the hostel/Fort William yesterday, but didn't. Needed to relax.
He tells me how he feels and I tell him how I feel. He's put on Mumford and Sons and I can't stop the tears because they come eventually, not in sobs but wide, and quietly down my cheeks.

He tells me things I heard and things I haven't heard.

He said he was sorry, and that when She came back, he should have told her he was with me but he's stuck now. And there's only finishing what he's started. He told me that she's almost left him again because he went off on his own.

Possession and insecurity. How should she feel? Fine? Even I don't think that. Its not secure, and it wont be with me around. If he feels the way he does and from what he explains, its going to be this way for a while, even if I exert no pressure, because it is towards me he drifts, at the end of the night. How it will end I don't know. Someone is going to be hurt. Someone is going to want space. And then what?

He said he knows its not going to work out and he wishes he could ask me to wait, but knows he cannot ask that. I should move on. Don't tell me what to feel. Its not easy for me. I know what I feel, and even if you are messed, I can see you're not a broken person. You're shining.
He said I make him feel good again, and that he can see the good in me, and that's what he likes.

That's beyond the beauty is what draws him to me, the sparkle, the new, almost innocent eyes.
Then the day settles. We talk more casually about the world going on around us. The finality of his work. The adventures of our friends and ideas that pass between us. It settles in to peace and I forget that I have to leave. I forget everything and remember standing in his kitchen in black underpants and oatmeal colored blouse nearly four months back.

We speak of possession and abandonment, its something neither of us likes to feel.

I spend all day at his place having lunch, dinner and a superhero movie. Half way through the superhero movie I notice the setting of the sun. My time is running out. Fear rips through me, seizing up my back, muscles and entrapping me. I'm so scared.

Then the panic returns.

What if I never feel safe again?

I tell him I feel safe in the warmth of his embrace, and I'm afraid I'm never going to feel that again. As much the warmth of his body as the emotional security it gives me to be with him.

He knows he shouldn't but its on his own accord that he comes across. I know he reads my pain and I tell him as much that I'm scared. He says it will do no good, and I know it might not, but for the brief moment it does. I'm safe.

What if I never get to kiss you again?

He brushes away my tears, kisses the top of my head, and I remember him telling me earlier that he thought my eyes were beautiful. I'm scared to touch him with my hands and he tells me its okay. Its fear tripping me up. 

Its such a fight and by the time I leave he's lulled me again into a sense of comfort, with hugs, kind words, and the soft touch of his hands on my skin. Gentle against my hip. Soft against the curve of my neck. He says he's dreamed of me, intimately.  

I should say more, I think but then I remember all the beautiful things I say about his soul, something he think isn't as strong as it truly is.

When I left, my stomach was sick. Its never been sick before, not like this. The worst sort of illness is the illness of the heart. It cut through my gut and I was forced to bed early after the festivities. No drink for me, my heart hearts to much. Not that I wasn't pleasant, and not that it wasn't fun, for it was.

--------------

It is the next day. Evening and we are out upon the town, as we always do.

And we are upon the bar we always go to. 

I see him there and do my usual best to keep it normal.

We all head off to the pool room, where there is more space. Somehow we end up on the same team, get whooped, and have a good laugh over it. Someone catches us with her camera. It is Virginia. The evening goes on and I realize that I'm hooked and walking next to him the whole way. Be quiet and just listen because I can't seem to shake where I'm standing.

Toasties.

We're all up late talking and I just end up listening. Its close to 2 and I want to go to sleep, to end things on a good note. I give a big hug and he nuzzles my head, sniffing it as he does when he can't do what he wants to. He smells so sweet.

A fight is going on in the other room, between BB and two girls, including Virginia. We ended up back in the kitchen. When BB and his chosen woman leave, it leaves us with Virginia. I start doing the dishes, as I do when I can't really think of anything else to do. Virginia turns her back, "Don't make out while I'm here."

I and He are stunned. Then I laugh. She's reading us, and its right.

She decides she wants to go up the road to find a friend to fuck. Horny little thing. Its 3:30 am.

We walk our way there, and through the park, I give him a soft little head butt in the shoulder. I want to be affectionate but this is the only safe thing I can think of doing. He puts his arm around my waist. He knows what it means. It affectionate and personal for me. I don't share that part of me with anyone but ... but him if he were mine.

I want to lean in accept it but I'm spooked. You want me to hold back. You want me to hold back and I'm not helping. It happens when he's had more than me. We stop at the door of the building and wait for her plan to fail. Poor horny thing. It does and we walk to his car.

Its a short ride to the hostel. I want to hold his hand so badly. We arrive and Virginia gets out of the car and scurries in, saying go do your thing. I say I'm following her in and she says that's not what she's expecting. I know, me neither.

She scurries in, and I linger, like I always do. I just want to slip in easy, easy for him, but he wants a hug. I give him a hug and it lingers for a time. I can smell everything about him. I have to go to bed though. Rising from the car seat, I reach out and hold his head. Its warm, and it feels so right. I pass inside, and i can feel myself smiling, the opposite of Monday.

Texted me all evening the next and last night. Sleep well ____, see you next week.

Absence

Its missing him. That's what it is, compounded of course, but that's what it is. I miss him and I haven't heard anything for almost 3 days.

Dead Battery.

I'm in that struggling moment of absence where it does nothing but burn, like fire in my blood. I'm sad, aching and cold. Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

I just want to hear your voice.
I just want to see your face.
I just want to speak to you.
I just want to sit next to you.
I just want to hold your gaze with out suspicion.
I just want to let you put your arm around me.
I just want to let myself hold your hand.
I just want to hug you with out fear.
I just want to kiss you.
I just want ... you.

Oh god I'm scared more than ever. I hate the absence and the silence, because I understand why. I know where you are. I know where you're sleeping and I know someone else is sitting there listening to your heart beat. I know I'm seen as the bad one, the risk, the gable and I'm not. I'm your friend. I'm your friend and I always will be.

I am a mountain. I will stand by what I know, proud and tall.

I need to run. I need to give. I I I I I I. Am I so self centered? I can't help it. I've seen the sun. I've seen it and I don't want to live in the night anymore. Its dawn, and I'm not sure if I'm going to make it to sunrise.

Please just take my hand, and show me the world.

Three Times

I feel something like the devil right now, and I know I'm not.

Here sits the devil, all alone and sad. Here sits the devil, pretending she is glad.
Here sits the devil, dressed and made to smile.
Here sits the devil...

Let it Play Out. What if this was the way it was meant to play?

Wednesday night was interesting again. I felt this urge, almost as soon as I he came in the door. I didn't want to leave his side. I had to control my self on a highly conscious level. Then he told me she was in town. At his place. It sunk me for the evening. It weighs on my heart like lead.

I can't help it. I can't help it. I am glad the moment I see him. It makes me shine and I can hear his heart in my head. Not in a mad way. I just feel it, because that's what I do best is feel.

I've been in his thoughts all weekend, until he opened the door to her last night.

By the evening's end, we were in the back drying room, having a private conversation again.

I didn't want him to leave. I knew where he was going at the end of the night and it hurt.

I told him, holding his gaze with all the strength I can muster, never to let anyone push you from what you want, ever. Never let someone take your dream from you.

I said, I don't know what the sadness is, maybe I'm not old enough to understand or I haven't lived long enough, but I will be there for you, and try to help you though it.

I'm seated on his lap, he just wants to be safe and I want to hold him against my heart.

He's so confused. He said, again they share a sadness, but says when he's around me, he says I make the sadness feel better. I make it better, I heal it.

He said she's scared and almost left. He says she loves him. I can understand that. I know why. She sees the kindness as a strength. But would he be pushed? I don't know. I don't know her and I cannot make that sort of assumption.

I can always hear his heart beating, in my ears, and I wish it would stop so it could be easy for him, but it wont.

Someone has failed him in the past and someone has been too strong.

I can feel his fear of failure in that he thinks I'm a gamble. He doesn't want to lose anyone important to him. He's lost someone important to him, either by death or from abandonment. I never ever want to do that to him. Never.

I can feel someone's been too strong to him. Someone has controlled him to the point of breaking. Someone has told him what to do. Someone has pushed him and I don't want to ever push him from what he's doing. If you ask for help I will be there. But I will never take your dream You never take someones dream away.

He uses my youth as a way of pushing me away. But I reminded him that there are people of all ages who are older and younger than they seem. Its all very complicated.

He said he felt like she was making this party the line. The Choice. It wasn't a choice. This is not something to make the choice over. A party? Its fear I know, which is why I had to step back. This is not the place to be putting that kind of pressure. It hurts though. It hurts when I know she's there, or he's there. Its like someone's trying to shut out the stars.


Why do the clouds always take away my stars?

Even when you're far away I can feel your heart in my head. It beats like a drum and I can hear it, and I don't want it to stop. I kiss his chest, and listen because the sound is music to me. Hot tears run down my cheek, tears of truth, and fear.

Nuzzling me, he feels safe. I want to do things to you, bad things. The scruff of his cheek nestles against my neck.

He almost kissed me again. Holding me close against his strong body, I could feel his face against my cheek. I was scared to touch him. Not like this. He doesn't want to hurt her and I'm scared to be hurt.

I can't do this. I can't do this. Wait. 

I fell his lips brush near my ear and my body's reaction, sharp and warm. It remembers everything. The second kiss is closer across my pale smooth cheek.

I should stop this. I should stop this. I should kiss him.

I hesitate, feeling the bristles of his facial hair against my face. My heart is hammering. I'm so scared. Words rush through my head, and the tears from my earlier professions are all but dried. The moments in the dark, pressed against the wall, hands in mine.

Kissed again, at the corner of my mouth. I can feel it, those sweet lips that brought and bring my body to life. I am flushed and wanting. Everything, not just your body but your heart.

Then like a hare, remembering everything that is this Nightmare, remembering where you have to go, where you have to sleep at the end of the night, you bolt into the rain, leaving me with a chilling body, and a heart aching for this all to be over.

Make My Heart Smile

He says I make his heart smile.

I gave him a blanket before sleep.

He said I am a gamble.

I said I want to listen. I think you are strong for being the person you are, with the troubles you carry.

He said stop talking, or I'm going to kiss you. I want to kiss you.

Each Step I Take Is Mine

I tire of being told what to do. Especially in my personal life. I was never much for it when I was younger. I like to chose on my own. I feel less pushed, like things are less out of my hands. It makes me feel stronger having done it on my own.

Though I know it is important to seek help, I think its necessary to have some sort of personal inner direction. Perhaps though, that is me.

I will make it through this.

At the end of this long marsh land, the end of the thick bog, which I wade through waist deep, there is a light, warm and shining like a star. I will follow it. Wearily I will follow. Quietly I will make it out.

The Lights

I fell asleep in his arms again.

I fell asleep in his arms, in his bed again.

It started with me wanting to tell him the injustice that was brought down on me. I was cut out. There is nothing to be changed, and yet he needed to know my side, not just the other. I want him to know. I held my tongue until I came back because there was nothing to be done from the other side of the world, but I should have said something. I could have said something. But I did not. Is this my test?

I lay in his arms again. It was warm. He told me, he likes when he holds me. He told me it makes him feel better to know I am safe. I told him I feel safe.

I start scared. I shouldn't... plays through my mind. But it feels so safe and right in his arms. Black and white, black and white. Grey? Always.  I played with his beautiful hair and wished.

I told him I missed him. I missed his laughter, his voice, his smell. I miss the comfort it brought me. I missed the ability to be excited about sharing the world with him. I missed the freedom I felt. I missed the happiness. I missed the excitement of anticipating and learning about a new person. Then I lay in his arms and slept.

He said I fit perfectly.

Should I be doing this?

What do I do? There is the other side. I hadn't surrendered though. I will wait and see how this plays, because I am on the line.

Should I deny myself what little happiness I can garner? Should I put up a fight? It cannot be called torture if it feels right.

My heart says yes, for now. I want to fight for this. I am tired of being walked over.

In the end, I gave him the piece of writing to read, in the morning, after a night of trying to coax it out of my lungs. It got caught on the fear in my throat and I had to have a hand in getting it out. He helped. He wants to listen.

This was twice in one weekend. I ended up in the bed next to him, with another person. A buffer? Its not a buffer when his hand is hooped on my bare hip. I miss his touch. Oh the trouble...



In other news, I met the Boss man to be, RS (Not to be confused with the Current boss man, RI). R is nice. I can tell he will be fun to work with come November. Maybe he'll convince the Head Hancho to plug some funding into the bathrooms. They need love.

Saw the Enchanted Forest. It was nice. Nothing to write home about unfortunately. Maybe it would have been better if I had been there on the terms originally thought of. With Him. It was nice never the less.

I need to write tomorrow. After mother and Father leave, I shall work on my story.

The Question Arises

I am more than certain it would have all worked out if I had not left the country.



That being said, I keep telling myself there is nothing to be done.

I am, naturally, a passive person. I don't like being aggressive. Half the time I don't like being assertive, though I wish I was more so that way. I am reminded that I put up with a lot of people's grief, and let people walk over me because I don't want them to be hurt and because I don't want anyone else to be hurt. I don't but up a struggle, because it seems like the dangerous road.

I am afraid of death sometimes. But above all things, I am afraid of never finding Love. It is the one thing I do best. When someone comes into my life, I throw the walls down, all of them, and let them join the busy city that is me. Its not half draw bridges.

A question has arisen, surfaced, since I've been thinking and talking, and thinking and talking. I know, that I don't have much of a right to ask this, since things are resolved.

There were three people involved in this, and of all of them, only two got to say anything about it before the final decision was made. One was cut out. If you do feel that way, and I know you do, you'd consider that I didn't get to speak or say anything.

I know we said we'd see how things went when we parted, but I had expectations too.

The last thing I want to do is cause more hurt between people. But if you really felt the same, when she came back, after not speaking, after all the rumors flew about, after I was gone, why go back?

Where is the guilt for me?

Of course admitting my fear makes it seem like all this is very desperate, and in a way it is. Wouldn't it be sad to go all one's life with out feeling loved in return? I rarely open up to people.

He is handsome, with his dark curls, and warm smile. He is handsome, tall with wide shoulders and a warmth that is just a part of him. When he held me, I felt like I could share my troubles and fall into a safe place. And the more I knew the more I liked. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he'll listen, that he's seen somethings and that despite it, he will do the best to make things right.

I just miss you and wish you were back to me only.

Hidden Dischange

I wake up every morning with a bottomless feeling in the pit of my stomach. The last 3 days have been interesting.

My Parents have been coming to visit me. They've come a long way.

I missed the bus to go down to them. I slept in from the night before. I felt like a begging idiot. I had no where to go, so I begged Him to drive me to the airport. He did and thank god for it. I said sorry a 1000 times but it didn't feel like enough.

The night before we stayed up watching a movies.

It was a good ride though. We cranked the music and had a nice chat. The sun was dazzling and I was happy until the end. The end was the hard part because I had to part with him.

I got back, had a nice time with the rents, but the pain built up once or twice and I had to talk to my mother, who knows everything. She doesn't understand. Not in a negative way, its just confusing.

Such Sweet Nothing.

My Unlucky Penny

I made a mistake last night. I drank too much at an emotional. I was feeling good, and then something set me off. I think it was the brownies. Or the drink. Or the eyes. Or the knowledge.

I'm so sad this day. I feel like I'm being left on a burning boat and all my insides want to do is crumple and fall.

I know everything and yet I can't let go, or I don't know how. I was so happy. Because I know what a wonderful person he is it makes it all the harder.

I don't tell anyone save for three people. I don't want anyone judging him or me. The last thing we need is people who don't understand cutting in.

I found a lucky penny on the ground, heads up. I wonder why I believe in that stuff. I feel like I'm losing my shine, and smile. I know that's what he likes is my smile. Its hard to see that right now. The air is cold as it coils around me, but I danced all the way to his place last night. I needed the fresh air. I needed the stars above me and I was happy to be back and loved by those around me.

I am happy to be in this beautiful place. I miss that beautiful person.\

I'm Keeping the Penny. Maybe that sort of luck takes time.


I live in a hostel, on the top bunk, above a Dutch guy, JD and with Dee and BB. BB knows things, we're sort of close in that buddy way. He can be immature but gives good hugs when I need them. He recovers easier from things, but that's how it is. I'll add more as time goes on.

Updates to come as we go.

Sweet Sleep

We fell asleep in each other's arms last night. I went back to his placed and we talked for longer than I know, then lay down and held each other, wondering what a mess we got ourselves in to. He invited me over, and we sat and talked to each other, long into the night.

I wanted to smash the glass between us and kiss you with all my heart, but instead we held each other in silence and wondered if we would make it out of this mess alive.

We whisper and wish it was as before.

There's a wall in between us and I feel like I'm peering at him through glass that was never there before. I'm scared I'm the villain in this. I know the situation. How? Why couldn't the dice roll in my favor for once?

Let it play out and keep your head up.

The stars came out for me last night, winking through the clouds and rain.

Did I mention I think JS is now interested in me, I think. He comes to the hostel every night.

He had to go today, I had to hide. Hold me a little longer, like you used to. I want to hear your heart in my ear and listen to you whisper and tell me your dreams. I want to smell that sweet smell you have that fills me with smiles.

"You took my heart, and you held it in your mouth..."

Walls

Its been sometime. I'm holding everything together rather well. I still feel it. Its like someone dumped acid in my stomach. I haven't changed, I'm just getting a better handle on them. I get anxious with distance and the absence of his voice, the warmth he exudes. I miss him and I'm scared. I haven't cried for a few days, but I don't know how long that will hold up. We've been texting every day... I just want to see him again.

I wish I never left.

The people I've met are interesting and I try to keep myself busy.

JD I think, has a thing for me but I can't be sure. He has a very specific way of being. E mentioned that there was a flat up the road to move into, but I think I'd like to make some more dough before that, and I don't want to lead JD on.

B has found true love, he thinks, not a day after he said he desired it. I wish it were so easy for me. Then again, it is easier for him to hand his heart out and he never seems to run into any serious trouble.

DC and JS are keeping me slightly distracted but I have to because and not lead anyone on. But it is good fun.

I got a gig volunteering at a museum. It should be nice to meet some new people. Applying for a quick and easy job at the shop down the road, but hopefully I get something more interesting.

Jobs I've always wanted to try:

- Helicopter Pilot
- Plummer
- Teacher
- Writer
- Dragon Master


"Let me in the walls you've built around, we can take a match and burn them down." - The Civil Wars

I Don't Know

It starts off with everyone and I am happy. But slow reminders start bringing up the pain between us. I can see the pain in him and he can see the pain in me.

I'm so scared I'm going to miss out on someone really amazing.

You're eye are so sad.

You carry everyone's pain in your heart. And it tries to break free with your tears. I want to hear your voice, sweet voice and you have a smell that warmed my heart. I can read your thoughts through your eyes, just as you can read mine and I see pain and kindness twisted into confusion.

All I want to do is help. All I want to do is help.

Writing, in all of this gives me clarity, or the closest thing I can get to clarity.

I am in a happy place. Starting anew. So start.

I was better yesterday. I had it together. But its slipping again. Its a little less. I'm not going to cry, by my belly burns and my heart aches. I know what I want. I know what I want. I know what I want, but it will just take time and I need to keep up my hope. Smile, be there, try not to cling. It will all be okay.

Don't Burn to hard. Hold it together.

I can't get away from it. Please, Christ make it stop.

Tired

I wake up beside myself. All my being is tired, and everything from the inside hurts. I'm not hungry. The thought of food makes me sick. Water? Maybe. I need to do something. Pacing, hunting for little things. What happened? How did this get this way? I need out. I need purpose. Go there. Doesn't matter what awaits. Go there. I go, and free from watching eyes, I break the dam and let tears fall at long last.

The walk cools the fervor of my emotions. Endorphins. They settle and my purpose aids the motion forward. Sadness departs. When I'm there, it's gone and I'm just left with simple anxiety.

How did it get this way. I wonder as the red door slides open. I want my knees to fold and break down completely. I want to scream help from the ends of my unwashed hair.

My body just shakes instead, wishing all the words would come spilling out. This is the one time they won't all come out. Instead I revert to control again. I am solid, like the shell of an egg. But those tears come and I just want to fold, unravel my being and let the thread spill about me on the floor.

I am at peace, settled. Everything eases, and the quiet becomes my friend again.

Then I feel it, the need to leave. Obligations were made. A long time decision. Anxiety stirs in me and I fill with silent dread. I snuff that, replacing it with a fast gathering, savoring peace like a starving person.

I snatch up memories with each corner. It brings about a weak smile. Don't go. Please. Tell me nice things, about you and tell me when you'll be back.

The last departure and I'm left scared and wishing that you'd turn the car around. Come back. I promise it will be good. But this isn't the way it happens. I'm left moving up hill, savoring, using the freshly gathered happiness supplies.

As the day wears on, the structure of my being finds it hard to smile and hold up conversation. I need sleep. I need someone to tell me it will all be okay again. At least I'm not alone. At least…

How is this worse feeling than before. Perhaps I think too much with all my heart. I'm so ready to throw my guards down.  Somehow its only the hills that keep me whole.

Why am I still awake. Kindness. Work. All I want is to sleep through everything. Sleep will bring peace. Let me sleep. Please. please…

…I wish I'd never left this place…

Jack In the Castle

This is not Oliver. Oliver is indisposed. He found Allie. But it was not the way he wanted.

He's heartbroken. He loves Allie so much, and he's such a good person.

It woke me up too, seeing him suddenly so sad. For three months I've been locked in the struggles of my own mind, with Oliver trying to pull me out and I didn't want to come out. It wasn't until seeing him so sad that I wanted to snap out of it and help him.

So today we went to Heidelberg and it helped Oliver immensely. Its very fun to travel with someone. We went all over the Old City and had lunch out while listening to buskers. I liked it. It's helping me a lot.

Das is all for now. Prost.


Jack.

Oliver - Shipping Out

So, three months of Jack's nuttiness and he's just about ready to go. I'm excited to go out on this trip. I'm going to see Ian which will be nice. I have no doubt I'll see Allie at some point. I'm less then excited then I thought I'd be. I'm anxious.

Jack and I are packed though. Jack's been filling and refilling his bag, making sure he didn't fit to much or didn't stuff in to little. Jack's traveled with Cody, but it always feels a little different with Cody. He moves instantly, so the glory of arrival is off set by how quick it is. We get to go through Jetlag this time and smelly cramped cabins with bad food and worse leg space. Actually, I'd forgotten about how damn tall Jack is and how cramped the leg space will be for him. I'm pretty sure we are no where near an emergency exit. Ah well.

I'll be happy to see the family grave when we're over there.

I'm really hoping this helps Jack too. He's got issues out the ring piece and I think being out of the cycle of school, the apartment and everything will help him immensely. Hopefully.

That's all for today.
----  Oliver

Past tale - Cody

The story of how Cody adopted his sisters.

            “Where is he?”

            “Rosie is in the hospital.”

            “What? What happened?”

           

            Rosie was hungry. It was her day off from school and she was hungry. Mommy was sleeping, daddy was at work, Jenny was at school and Cody was out that week with his friends. She could call him but she didn’t want the noise to wake mommy. When she poured the tomato soup to the edge, using the old stool to the edge of the pre-heated stove, she made sure she had an oven mitten, like Jenny and Cody did.

            Distantly mommy snorted with the scrapping against the stove. Mommy had a big bottle today, the one with the word polar across it.

            Rosie picked up her book, a present from Cody when he came back from school.

            The stove hissed spitting red tomato paste.

            Rosie’s little five year old arms shook as she tried to move the pot.

           

            Jenny came through the doors, ushering her boy friend on in what was to be their six month anniversary. “Do you want something to drink Sam?” She asked, slipping off her beaded flats.

            “Uh,” His sixteen year old voice pitched for a second in anxiety. Jenny tucked her sweater in her arm, then paused, sniffing deep.

            “Does something sound like its burning?” She asked, looking at Sam for a second before rushing out to the kitchen, quickly followed by her concerned boyfriend. “ROSIE!” Jenny screamed at the sight of her little sister, lying on the floor. A pot was lulling back and forth on the floor, tomato soup still warm against her toes. Rosie’s black curls drenched in soup with a thick bloody line across her for head, was unconscious. “Oh my god Rosie.” Jenny turned over her shoulder. “Sam get my phone.”

            “Should I call 911?” He panicked for a second at the sight of the crisis.

            “No,” Jenny pressed back the urge to cry. “Get the phone now!”

            Sam hurried out, into the hall where Jenny had tossed her purse. He fumbled between the lip gloss and the tampons until the sleek little phone slipped into his damp hand. Bringing out it to Jenny, she was brushing away the soup. “What do I call?”

            “Press four.”

            His finger pressed the button, instantly dialling. “Who’s gonna—“

            “Hello?” A voice on the other end answered, concerned but there was a sigh of tried in the corners.

            “Uh. Hello?”

            The voice became serious. “Who is this?”

            “Sam I—“

            “This is a private line. I don’t know how you got a hold of it but—“

            “CODY!” Jenny yelled from the floor.

            The voice froze. “Listen, Cody, I’m Jenny’s boyfriend, her sister is hurt. There was an accident. I-uh... Jenny told me to call the number.”

            “Okay I’ll be right there.”

            The line went dead.

            “Who was that?”

            “Sorry,” A boy came staggering in, tugging up his pants, lacquered in tattoos and rings. “Rosie!” He rushed past Sam, to his little sister.

            “Who is this?” Sam asked.

            “Not important,” The young man scooped Rosie up in his arms. “Jenny,” he looked to me. “Sam? Hold on to my shoulder.”

            The strong authority, and the confidence his girlfriend showed in him, brought Sam to put his hand on his shoulder. A blink of his eye and there stood the shine of the city hospital.

           

            Cody brought his little sister into immerge, followed by his sister and her boy friend that he still had to meet. The nurse was sitting at the table, her little eyes growing at the sight of the group. “What on—“

            “She’s hurt, please. We found her on the floor of the kitchen like this.”

            Numbers were pressed and a bed came rolling out.

            The nurse handed Cody a clip board of question he filled out very quickly, pulling Rosie’s health card out of his back pocket. “So are you the guardian? Or the parent?”

            He shook his head, “No I’m her brother.”

            The nurse gave a sceptical notice, before following the gurney into the protective room where they would repair her.

            “Will she be okay?” Jenny squeezed his arm, in the way she did when she was little and scared.

            “Yeah...” he looked at the swinging window. “Stay here for a second; I need to use the washroom.”
            Jenny and her boy friend sat at the waiting seats, as Cody made his way quickly to the washroom, entering one of the stalls, barely having the door locked before he teleported to the front door of his parent’s home. “Mom?” He called, reluctantly. A distant snort made him realize she was in the bathroom. No, he wasn’t going there. He picked up the pot off the floor, teleporting up to Rosie’s bed room and picking up her book and toys, putting them in her red back pack. He grabbed Jenny’s magazine and made sure he threw some food in the bag, before returning to the bathroom. As he exited the bathroom, he passed the bag to Jenny, saying, “Jenny, hold this. I have a call to make.” Cody snapped open his cell, pressing one. “Hey Brandon. Yeah, no its Rosie. A bit of one yeah. No, she should be okay. Well I think I need a lawyer.”

            Cody, Jenny and Sam sat around the bed as Rosie slept, a big cut across her face. “What did they say?” Jenny asked.

            “She’s got a concussion and a slight crack in her scull but she’ll be okay. A few days of rest is all.” He held her little hand in his, thinking to how much she had grown. Faster than Jenny she was at getting out of dippers but never got tired of those games they played together. “My lawyer is working on the custody too.”

            A nervous smile crept on to Jenny’s face as she grabbed her brother’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

            Behind them the door was thrown open and a woman in a business suit as well as a police woman stood with the scowling nurse. “Is this Rosie Sulman?” The Social worker said. Cody’s hackles rose, turning to block her from them.

            “What do you want with her?” Cody never liked social workers and one was a cop was worse.

            “Are you Cody Sulman?” The dame in the dress asked. “And Jenny?”

            “Yes,” they both answered. Sam stayed quiet from his chair. Jenny nudged him to stand beside her.

            “I’m Mrs. Smith from social services. We are placing custody over Jenny and Rosie Sulman, after evidence of abuse in the family as well as neglect.” She read the paper but did not look to them. Cody gripped the bed frame bristling.

            “No!” Jenny said first, grabbing his arm, fear washing over her like cold sickness. It was her childhood nightmare’s come true.

            The officer raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I’m sorry young lady but you’ll have to go into the hallway to discuss this.” The nurse said in an adult like fashion.

            “No were not leaving this room and you’re not taking them into your custody.” Cody continued his hold on both his sisters. “I know what happens in your system. You’re not touching them.”

            “I’m sorry Mr. Sulman but this is not negotiable.” The officer stepped forwards pulling both Jenny and Cody by the arm.

He pulled away from the woman. “Don’t touch me!” he snapped, his gut burning. “You’re not taking them!”

A second officer came into the room, a man, much bigger. He took the woman’s place pulling Cody out the door as she picked up jenny and began carrying her. Sam shouted as Jenny screamed, kicking and flailing, using her feet to keep from being pulled out. Tears streamed down her face as she reached out for something.

Cody fought harder, the big guy trying to grab him the same way. He was faster though grabbing Rosie’s bed. But the man pried him off, carrying him in the same way as Jenny was. “LET ME GO!” He roared, tears blurring his own eyes as what he fought to keep together were being torn apart.

The screams and rattles did not go unheard, as Rosie woke up. Cody could see the terror on her face as she saw where she was, the monitor attached to her, and her brother and sister being dragged away fighting from her side. She screamed, kicking away the wires and the monitors only to find them attached. The social worker, rushed to her side with the nurse trying to calm her, the nurse pulling the wires out before she ripped them out.

As Cody fingers gripped the edge of the door, the last wire was pulled. Rosie smacked the nurse in the face diving out of the bed and stumbling on the floor.

Cody kicked the cop hard in the knee, biting his arm at the same time, breaking free of his iron grip.

Rosie jumped into her brother’s arms crying. Tears rolled on to each other’s shoulders. “Don’t leave me,” Rosie cried, heavy child sobs breaking up her voice. “Please don’t leave me.”

Jenny burst into the room, rushing to her brother and throwing her arms around him.

“I’m so sorry girls.” He whispered. “I won’t let go again.” The cops started moving back in the room and he gave them a cold room. “Back off.”

            “What the hell is going on?” A doctor appeared in the door as the social worker and police started towards them again. He spotted Cody and his sisters in the room.

            “Mr. Sulman refuses to let his sister’s fall under custody of social services.” The nurse explained, rubbing the lump on her forehead. “Please help the police to calm them.”

            “Sulman?” The doctor repeated. “No, not in your life.”

            All four adults looked to him in surprise. “These children are victims of abuse and neglect doctor.”

“Not surprising. My wife has been working with Cody and his sisters since Cody was in grade three with her.” He stepped towards them placing a hand on Cody’s shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned, the last thing you should do is pull them apart.”

Cody wanted to speak. “I’ve spent most of my life, from the moment Jenny was born to now, protecting them from my mother and father, making sure they were cared for, making sure that the family that they weren’t taken from me. When your fifteen and you have to hide your baby sister under the bed because your mother will drop her, or when you have to fight your mother to lock the door, or the food from the fridge. The moment you saw that you would have pulled us all into homes, tore what we had apart.” There was a knock at the door. Cody spotted Oliver, Jack and Brandon, and behind them a tall man with a brief case. “And there is my lawyer.”

           

            “So what’s going on?”

            “The nurse, that bitch,” Cody sighed. “I mean I know she’s trying to do the right thing but—“

            Rosie had fallen back asleep after such a stressful moment. Dr. Jones was Ms. Hotly’s husband as it turned out, and was now making Rosie one of his patients.

            “She called mom and dad...” Jenny sighed, hugging her brother once more though. Jenny smiled instead, throwing her arms around her brother. “But he’s got the lawyer and is talking to the cops and the social worker. Thank you.”

            Cody hugged her back. “I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner.”

            She let go, looking over his shoulder at Hunter.

            “I’m glad for you,” Jack patted him on the back. “It’s going to be good.”

Cody waved, then turned to Jenny again. “But I want to warn you this isn’t going to be easy. I know that mom and dad are going to fight for you guys. Dad has the money.”

            “Don’t you?”

            “I’m borrowing for this,” He paced, then pointed to where Brandon was talking to the lawyer and the social worker. “Brandon is loaning me the money, though it’s not much apparently he saved the lawyer’s butt once.”

            Jenny and Cody walked back over to where Sam was sitting quietly. Cody sat on one side of him. “You like my sister?”

            He looked between Jenny her brother. “Yeah. I really love her.”

            “Cool.” Cody leaned back.

            Sam was surprised. His last girlfriend’s brother had reamed him out. Cody was very casual. It was unnerving. Not just because of the weird superpowers, but because he had never been faced with such a wonderful girl.

But Jenny was special, they had been friends for so long, now they loved each other.

            “Better this way then the system,” Oliver crossed his arms from where he stood, he was very knowledgeable about the system here and helping Cody out as best he could. Jack took the bottle of water from him. “I think it’s going to be hard for them none the less.”

            “Six o’clock guys,” Brandon said.

Cody’s parents came stalking in, followed by social workers and a thick lawyer. Jenny stood instantly as Cody stood. Jack and Oliver stood beside them. A family of friends.

His mom roared over in a ball of furry.

            “Where’s Rose! Where’s my daughter.”

            “Ma’am you can’t go in there.” The officer that stood in front of Rosie’s door stood strong, blocking her path.

            “She’s my daughter.”

            Hunter moved past Cody, “Not any more Ma’am. According to the law, you and your husband no longer have custody of Jenny Sulman or Rosie Sulman.”

            “What?” She roared, looking back at the security worker. “Fix this! Make them mine!”

            “No mom,” Cody folded his arms. “I’m taking custody of both Jenny and Rosie.”

            Hunter raised a folder. The social worker and mom competed to snatch it from him. The security worker got it first, reading quickly. “It’s legal. Cody Sulman is the guardian of these girls.”

            Mom’s face twisted from angry to nice. “That was smart of you. Good boy to protect them from these people.”

            “No,” Cody backed, still able to smell the booze on his mother’s breath. “You’re not aloud near them. Jenny and Rosie don’t need a drunk bum for a mother and a puss of a father.” He made to open her mouth. “Or do I need to explain to these social workers the little scars on my arms from the time you pushed me in glass? Or the various hospital visits. Or why both Jenny and Rosie’s first word was not mommy or daddy but my name. Or when it was my name they called for help every time their mommy and daddy were too busy smashing glass to realize that they were sick, or hungry or had to go to the bathroom?”