Friday, June 24, 2011

En Garde!

I am a sword fighter in a world of guns. 

Clashing blades with someone, or just listening to the whistling sound of a sword cutting through the air, have been some of my favorite ways to spend my free time since before I can even remember. At least my mother says so, and I can attest for that part that I do recall. 

All my life I have battled away, each new opponent like a fresh start to remove all the imperfections from before. 

I never even knew why. Not really. Fun? Oh most certainly. But what was it that I loved so much about swords? 

In a world full of guns I choose the clearly less destructive weapon. Most all of us have seen the scene in "Indian Jones" where that is proved quite thoroughly. 

Why go to all the trouble, all the effort, of learning how to use an outdated weapon? 


Why was I using something that takes so long to learn over a gun which is more deadly with absolutely no skill whatsoever? 

Now maybe this was some extremely obvious thing to other people on the planet, but I realized recently why. 

Why I love swords as much as I do, why guns just don't cut it. 

A sword is about so much more the just crude violence. It is a testament to myself. A sign of my will, my resolve. My desire to overcome an obstacle not easily but skillfully and diligently. 

Being skilled with a sword may not save me from bullets, but it does give me the self confidence to know I can likely save someone if I really need to. 

And that self confidence? That is the real worth, the real reason I love swords.

Because in the end my actions, born of violence, have led me to be the person I am; strong and determined to succeed in a world where growing up only gets harder. 

So more likely for me it is swords. 

But that brings up the question,

What is it for you?

Friday, June 17, 2011

The Cast

I often times see my own life as a sort of TV show or book of some sort. 

Me playing the role of the protagonist, and on a few occasions the antagonist as well.  

but around all that there is this ever changing cast of characters that show up. Some more then others, and I wanted to dedicate a page to who they are and how I know them just in case anyone is confused OR I want to remember some many days from now. 

First up is my family. 

I am the oldest of five now in my large family. The original divorce was back in the day when I was... seven? I think it was seven. And now It feels like it has been forever since the family has been stretched out across several houses. So to sum it up,

Me - Oldest brother, eccentric, clean.
Bro - 2nd oldest, artist, tennis player, too "cool" for my crazy antics. A neat guy none the less.
Sis - five years younger then me, and 3rd oldest, a cyclone of a mess, amazing pianist and singer.
Lil Bro - Technically step-bro, loves destruction, loud.
Lil Sis - Technically step-sis, shy, already learning how to manipulate people. 

As for the parental units...

Step-Dad - Can build anything, very work oriented, efficient, kind.
Dad - Very fun, secret agent, likes things his way, got me into video games, acts younger then he is, will never understand how he and my actual mom got together.
Mom - Busy, super mom, healthy, busy busy, will never understand how she and my actual dad got together.
Step-Mom - Could be my older sister, played sonic (awesome), tormented by Lil Sis, acts older then she is, lots of fun, oh yeah; black.

Then there are my two closest friends.

Gabriel and Nyx.

Nyx being the one with the big gun and Gabriel being the one mid handstand. 

Nyx is a complicated love interest of mine that remains an anomaly popping up over and over again through time. Though I love her dearly. Supportive and caring she always tries her hardest. 

Gabriel is my best man and commonly referred to as my subconscious. The two of us have over time always crafted fun and wonderful stories together. Crazy, but in an awesome way, and secretly my gay lesbian crush. Which yes, makes no sense right now. But one day, one day, it will be clear.

This bearded man, who I constantly call Cyber, is a friend who I made over in college. A bit cynical and negative, he is always up to helping me out in a pinch. 

The man trying to cut me in half with a laser would be Dr. Society. The persona of society itself and all its evil deeds. 

AND MORE! But for tonight, we shall stop here.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Movie Theatre Mayhem

I have a large family.

And I love them all very much.

But over the years a lot of stories have developed out of our time together. One I can remember quite well took place a number of years ago when we decided to go see a movie…

Movies you see were a big family thing back in that day with my father and step mother. 

We would often go and see some new movie out in theatres and have a great time.

But before we left there was always the little detail of treats that we wanted to take to the movies. After all everything is so expensive once you get inside.

Now on this particular occasion the family had amassed quite the cluster of confectionary treats. That is to say; we had a whole lot of candy.

An entire brown paper bag so full of candy that it threatened to breach its thin barriers and let loose a torrent of sugar that would make any dentist cry.

I was very excited.

So we travel to the theatre, my disguise perfect to hide my candy.

A sweatshirt three sizes too big for me. My hands permanently fused into the pockets as they supported the tumor looking growth underneath that was the bag of candy. That or I was newly pregnant.

Most delicious baby ever.

But the best part of the story is next as we arrive to the movie theatre only to find the movie we want sold out, and nothing else really caught our fancy.

So my family decides that walking around the mall the theatre is in would be a fun substitute. Me, still stuck, looking like I have a beer belly before I have even hit high school.
I am violently nudging my father as we start walking away from the theatre in attempts to express how very NOT OK I was with the current plan.
And then directly in front of a glass pane fronted fancy looking restaurant my hands slipped.

That bag exploded like a stick a grenade. Candy shrapnel was everywhere. It splashed up to the people in the restaurant; it jumped over the balcony onto the people below.  

I was experiencing candy in places I had never experienced candy before and it was not pleasant.

I then noticed that I was surprisingly alone in this epicenter of cavities.

My family was running at max speed as far away from me as they could.

My father ran so fast he may as well have sat down with people in the restaurant and acted surprised with them.

I didn’t even find my sister and step mother till I walked all the way down to the first floor to see them standing in a candy store of all things.

So I don't usually have abandonment issues. But every now and then, especial when candy in involved, it happens. 

Friday, June 3, 2011

The Night I Died

The “Outer Reach” was by no means a luxurious hotel. I woke up feeling certain I was dirtier simply for spending the night in the place. It was as if the walls and ceiling had slowly decayed onto my exposed face all night. I tried to wipe the invisible mask of grime from my face with my hands, only my hands were no better and left me with nothing but a cold chill running down my spine.

I finally got around to sitting up when a pair of arms holding me tight decided to keep me in place. Nicole, how I love her, I’d risk everything for her and back again.

“You know I’m not running away or anything, I’d just like to go take a shower.” I whispered in her ear. Slowly her eyes fluttered to life. The drowsy sort of life, the I’d be asleep for another three hours if you hadn’t done anything sort of life.

“mmmmmmmm….” Is all that left her lips as she pulled me closer to her and redoubled her efforts to keep me in place.

“Good morning to you to.”

Nicole only responded with a yawn and a readjustment of her head in the pillows. How she can be alright in a place this revolting I’ll never understand. Though I guess I always had a bit more of a bone to pick on cleanliness. “May I shower please?”


“Ah, she speaks! Wonderful.”

“Stay next to me.”

“What, are showers evil now?”

“They are not next to me.”

“Your perception of the truth is flawless as always princess. May I please get up now?”

“What is in it for me?”

“Um, nothing? At the moment?”

“Not worth it.”



“I will make you let go.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Not at all.”

“I dare you to try.” And so I did. Really it was no test of strength. I was the stronger one. What was tricky about it was simply a kiss, or a whole slew of kisses.

I had only just begun to try and pry her away when she slipped her arms out from around me and used them to climb up me towards my lips. She tasted like strawberries. Strawberries and chocolate, her most popular and delicious tastes.

“You taste delicious today.” Nicole said.

“Do I? I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Nicole’s hands ran along the curves of my body. She was so warm. She ran her hands through my hair; my too long hair that I really needed to cut. I looked far better with shoulder length hair then this knotted debacle down my back. And the last thing I got through to her was a smile.

Then the glass broke.
                                    I felt my chest rock forward.
                                                                                    And finally the distant gunshot.

I looked down to see a pristine little hole just above my right breast. I was confused. I looked up at Nicole to see she had a little hole in her too. Right over her heart.

And then, I panicked.

I couldn’t breathe. My mouth constantly tried to ram words out of my throat but my voice was gone. Only squeaks escaped.

Then the blood started. Bleeding, so much blood; Mine, Nicole’s, I didn’t even know. I started to cry. Huge tears fell out of me like my blood. I was not breathing, only gasping screaming in tears.

Pressure on the wound suddenly popped into my head. I grabbed all the sheets I could and lay On Nicole’s wound. She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were open, mouth agape. But I didn’t stop. I pushed harder.

“Help!” I screamed. “Someone help me, please!” Her back. Nicole’s back. My hand slipped across her skin with all the fresh blood. No hole. There was no hole in her back. The bullet was still inside her. Was that a good thing? Or a bad thing?

The hospital, my next thought. I grabbed the bedside phone from the bedside table and dialed 911 as fast as my shaking hands could. 

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“…” No words. No words! Why was it so hard to talk? I had to tell her what the problem was!

“Sh- ot.” Was all I could get across.

“Please remain calm. There are police units and an ambulance on their way. Is there anything you can tell me about your situation?” I had to focus. Nicole’s life was on the line. I had to pull myself together!

“Shot, through- through the window.”

“Are there any other people in the room with you?”

“Nicole. Shot through the heart.”

“Are you injured?” I looked down at myself, phone lying in the croon between my head and shoulder, hands pressing on Nicole’s heart like some failed CPR attempt, and my own bullet hole.


“Have you also been shot?”

“Ye-“ but I could not say any more. I was out of words. Blood filled the back of my mouth.

Then the police hammered down the door. One of the officers ran over to me. He was talking to me, but I didn’t hear anything. I liked his face though. I could see it in his eyes, he cared.

Did I save her?” I said, gesturing at Nicole with my head.  I’m not sure, but I think I could just make out from his lips,

“You did fine.”

I woke up in the hospital with a terrible headache. Opening my eyes I was greeted with tubes all around me and plenty of pointy things that make me squeamish. Even worse, they were inside me.

A nurse was at the door. She had this broad grin on her face. She immediately turned tale and ran off screaming for some doctor or another. I just wanted everything to stop spinning. I tried getting up, but all the needles inside me pulled in protest; so I stayed put.

A doctor showed up.  A Dr. Jenkins. He started talking very fast and I really didn’t take any of it in. I was strangely sleepy.

For days I sat like that, lots of people showing up. News reporters, other doctors, my family even. I was certain I’d never see them again after they kicked me out of the house for declaring myself a lesbian. I guess getting shot makes me important enough to see again.

But I didn’t talk to any of them. My sleepy haze left me unsure of what was a dream and what was reality.
I felt so weak.

Eventually they got me up and moving. I was in a wheelchair for a while. Fresh air was nice.One day the nurse was pushing me through the many hallways of the hospital. She had taken a liking to talking to me. Not that I ever said anything back. Maybe that is why she liked me so much; she did have an awful lot to say.

“You know they are awfully worried about you. Not talking for ten days now.” Ten days? I had been here ten days?

“Where is… she?” My silence was over. I looked up at the nurse, who was quite surprised by my sudden decision to talk.

“Oh dear, do you not remember?” Do I not remember? I didn’t remember much of anything let alone any actually useful information.

“Where is she?” I was raising my voice, though it was parched and dry.

“Dear I don’t think.”

“Where is she?” I was gripping the nurse’s hand now with what little strength I possessed.

“She had already passed away by the time the ambulance arrived…”

I cried. I just outright cried, harder then I had ever cried before. I fell out of my wheelchair, ripping all the IV’s from my body in the process. Little pools of blood ran from their now open gateways to the floor outside my body. I screamed. There were no words, only noises.

I still visit her grave whenever I get a chance. I got better. I healed up nicely at the hospital. They tell me my heart should be about as strong as it ever was.

They never did find out who shot the two of us; though leading suspicions leave me as anything but the primary target. I always told her that she talked too loud online. But I guess when you make a living off of your writing you can always expect touchy topics to keep food on the table. And you know? Those touchy topics still paid for my food for months. Always looking out for me I guess.

I wasn’t sure if I would love anyone ever again. But I met someone a few years ago who helped me a lot. We just decided to have a child together. I’ve decided to carry her.  She should be born sometime in July.

 We have decided to name her Emma.

FEB 07, 1992 – MAY 23 2011
“You changed my whole life
and I’ll always love you for it.”
                                -Your Princess

What did you think? I worked really hard on it, though all things considered it could likely use more editing. Let me know what you think! I love the feedback, and I'm really curious about how many of you actually got the big reveal in the story there near the end.

I actually had this whole story as a dream while I was sick with pneumonia and a fever of 104.5.

Me and my crazy sick dreams right?