Chapter two: The mind of Death

I watch the man laying limp and drained on the bed, the beeps of his machine fill the room with a dooming sound. It was a familiar sound for someone like me. I am an angel of death. That is right, I am death. No, there is not just one of us. There are many of us. And each of us specialize in our own areas. Some deal with the wicked, and they deal with the lost. Others, deal only with children. I am the angel of warriors. Those tainted by hardship or war, those with guilt thicker than the grand canyon. In my world, its probably the equivalent of a heart surgeon. Its the toughest area offered in my after life career. I deal with people who were shown the horrors of this world and it is my job to help them find the light within themselves. People talk of the light they see when their dying, they wouldn't be lying. But only those who are ready see that. They don't necessarily need an angel there, we just come so they are not alone through the process.

  The ones I come to, their afraid of judgment, they feel unworthy of heaven and if I don't do my job, if I'm unable to help them. Then they get stuck here on earth, not belonging anywhere, or to anyone. There are many of those. They like to come and watch what I'm up to. They like to watch others process what they could not, others like to try and stop me from doing my job. It's a constant headache, but I leave the higher angels to handle the ones that create a problem. All I have to do is report them, and the higher angels come to where I am and remove them. No one has the right to interfere in another's journey, its not allowed. Not even by me. I cant make them see or feel anything, I cant make them believe their worthy. All I can do is guide them within themselves, show them how others view them and hope it is enough. Its a thankless job, but I never did it for a thanks. Bringing those who suffered to peace is thanks enough for me.

  I was never a human, I never had a life on earth. I only know what I learn from each person I lead home or to hell. But humans fascinate me, I know I am not supposed to care, I'm not supposed to get attached, its just a job. But I have never been one to separate one from the other. That is just how I was created. Like humans, the commander in chief created his angels to be different from one another. I think I feel because it helps me do what I do better. I don't like to toot my own horn, pride is not something that matters to angels anyway, but I have never let one of mine get stuck. I don't fail. If I fail, all this soul has endured would be for not. They would never get the glory they fought so hard for. And I don't think i could stand for that for all eternity.

 As I watched Ben drift into sleep, a weak smile on his face. I knew he thought of his wife when he smiled like that. I know everything about Benjamin Walker Sinclaire, age 94, born and raised in Syracuse, NY. He served five years at war in world war two, three in Europe and two years in the pacific. He was shot three separate times, but only reported one of them. He was lucky in the fact that there were exit wounds, but his sheer determination to stay with his friends, to fight in the cold or in the heat when his body ached with pain, shook me to my core. Even I respect this man. Its hard for me to understand why he does not respect himself. He felt guilt every time he took a life. He never bragged or called them names. Not even when they killed one of his own. He would pray in secrete in those long lonely nights away from home, not for himself or his own care, but that of those around him, to keep them safe, to send them home. If you could have seen the solider this man was, a thank you would never suffice for what he had done. His own platoon looked to him as their role model, his superiors always took his word as solid fact. He took his time to make sure things were being done the best way possible. He never panicked or stressed. It was witnessing a pure miracle to see a man in the worst situation, bodies falling all around him, incoming fire landing inches from him, and his hands didn't shake, he didn't freeze in fear. He got low, as others ducked for cover, he pushed forward, and because they saw him, they set their fear aside and followed. He was made for war, he was made to harbor it. He thinks he was a lost man. But he was never lost. God adored him, he often looked down on what he was doing. I could tell even he was amazed at the man. That is how he is with everyone at some point in their lives. He gives you a box with tools in it, what you build is up to you. So he watches in wonder as we do. And Ben, he is one of the favorites. I knew I would get him on my docket and I paid attention to him. He is special to me. Not just because he is the one man that never failed to be selfless, not even when he was a drunk, he still made sure his family had before he took.  Ben will be my last death passenger. He is the last man on my docket. My duties as death will be complete upon his entrance to judgment. Once he is heard and ruled, I will begin the next aspect of my calling. Like humans, we have many jobs in our lifetime. You don't want to get bored with eternity, so every once in awhile a change happens. Its important to have fresh eyes, its the commanders favorite motto in his work. There is always a new perspective, a new beginning.

  I only had a few more days until his body would give out. He was at peace, but still clinging to his body. Sometimes, their own will delays the process, sometimes it speeds it up. But when they did was on their own terms and they couldn't see me until they took their last breath. No one sees death before they go to judgment. You can die and be brought back, but you will not see me or any of the other death angels until you meet your true death. The one no one ever wakes up from again. He would fight until the last second, Its just the kind of man he is. His wife Margret was someone I had witnessed in watching Ben, but I  am not to know anything about her process. However, I know that the moment she died, Ben was holding her hand and he felt the life slide out of her. I saw her walk to her angel, and then she was gone from the both of us. I did make sure she was not stuck here. She never stood a chance at that, she was a strong women of faith. She had no fear when her time came, and despite what he thinks of himself, Ben will not be afraid either. Fear has no real consequence to him. He only uses it as a tool, without ever giving in. Its actually quite amazing. So I would sit here, with his slow weak breaths and the endless beating, until his heart went still. Ben was fighting, hoping even at his age. That thought alone made me smile. I was glad he would be my last. Who could ever top him?

Chapter one: The mind of a dying Man

I never thought that I would live as long as I have. I never thought I deserved the privilege of having a wonderful family and the many friends I have had the pleasure of knowing. But, I have lived a good life. I did the best that I could do with the life I was given. I always tried to make the best out of things, even when they seemed hopeless. I spent many years lost, trying to find a reason why I had survived when so many of my friends had never gotten the luxury of coming home from war. Many times I wished that I was one of the fallen. I think being left behind is about the worst luck you could have. I know that they would ride my ass for feeling sorry for myself as long as I have. But I think the impact of their deaths hits me even more as an old man. I have had sons that I held in their first minutes of life, and seen then advance beyond the age so many had not. And I saw that child have a child of his own and grow to be a young man. So much they have missed out on. So many of them better than I. But this is what a solider must carry. This is the secrete we take to the grave, that even though we survived, even though we came home..home was never enough to erase the ones we left behind. In all we accomplish, we think of them. we carry them in our lives as if they had been right there all along. I hadn't realized this myself, until I came here, to the end of my life.

  It is true what they say you know, when death is close, everything seems to start to line up. All the answers you thought desperately to find, the answers are meaningless now. I don't care. All I care about it what have I done, what will stand here when I no longer exist. Will the people in my life say that I am a good man, that I was brave, that I loved and forgave and did all that was asked of me? These are the things that matter in the end. I suppose it comforts me to know that I have left enough money behind for my children to have a little bit of a safety egg. My wife would be relieved to know that.  I lost my wife ten years ago, and I miss her more and more as the days pass. I wonder if she thought this way at the end? Did she question if she was a good women? I wish I had told her that she was the best women I knew. I wish there was a lot of things i said.
   I have never been the type of man you could describe as open. I don't complain, I don't bitch when I hurt, I just deal with it. I try to show my love but I knew it was never really enough. My wife Margret, she loved her romance stories, and she loved it when any one was getting married or having  children. She wasn't overly emotional, she just enjoyed the experience of watching love take shape in peoples lives. I know that she wished that I would be more romantic. I attempted the usual flowers and a nice night out to dinner but I was never very creative to come up with my own ideas. When I was in my thirties and my law firm was taking off, I admit I made my secretary by all the gifts and plan all the events. I was made to look like the hero, but I never put in any of the time and effort I should have. I suppose to them it was enough, but not to me.
  I regret not being the type of father that could look at their children and just say they love them. I tried there as well. I would give a tap on the head or a hug but I could never seem to find the right words to say. I wondered if they really know how much they mean to me? I wonder if they know that watching who they have become has filled me with more pride than anything I personally accomplished. I wish I was a lot of things, but my biggest wish is, i wish I was the father my children deserved to have.
  A part of myself never came back from war. As much as I tried and tried to put it behind me, I never really got my full self back. I no longer have night terrors, and the flashbacks are very far in between. But there was a time I was a haunted man. There was a time that I did things I wish I could erase altogether. I drank too much, I betrayed my wife too much. I was a pitiful man, until my wife came down and dragged my sorry butt to the church. She even tied me to the bed once so I couldn't sneak off to the bar while she was out grocery shopping. She was determined to show me that I was worth better, and she hung on every miserable heart wrenching minute of it. When I yelled and cursed and screamed out, she would just be kinder to me. When I finally broke, she would hold me as she held our children when they were hurt. She fought her way into the pit of my soul and pulled me out of hell. Because she loved me. Because she believed in me. I never deserved her, I knew that the day I married her. But there was never a day that passed, even after she was gone that I didn't thank god for giving her to me. I wouldn't be who I am, I wouldn't of had this life without her. A part of me is happy to know that soon enough, I wont have to ever part from her again. She wasn't just my wife, she was my best friend. We did everything together for fifty seven years. I have been a lost drifting soul without her there to guide me. I miss her to the core of desperation.  She was one hell of a women. I wish she had gotten more time with the kids then I.

 I know that it is only a matter of time before I go now. I'm hooked to more machines then I think anyone is supposed to be in one life time. I cant stay awake too long with the drugs they give me. All I have now are my thoughts, and as the minutes pass I walk back in my mind, back to a time before I knew the ugliness of man, before I met the one women who gave me a reason to live, and from there, I live over and over again.

Chapter Three: The Ella project

As my first month of school and work comes to a close, I still hadn't made any real headway in the friend department. I had a Saturday routine with Aidan, We go to the market early Saturday mornings. For a guy who lives for the night life I was surprised to find out that he likes to buy fresh foods, after all he is in school to be a chef. He would show me things I have never even heard of before and tell me what he would use to make with it. I found him interesting. We talked without really talking about anything important. He didn't ask many questions. I figured he had his own past he was trying to forget. I didn't see him much during the week. He worked long hours like I did and when he wasn't working he was out with friends or out at some party. Every night he brought a women home. I admit that a few times I listened with my face pressed in the pillow so no one could hear my girlish giggles. He seemed to be good at whatever he was doing to them. And there was never any cat fights or arguments. He was a smooth operator but he still had a respect for women that didn't make you think less for his frivolous ways. He just loved women, all types and he always stopped to appreciate a figure where ever he was. Most people deemed him as a pig. But Aidan was different. He excepted you for exactly what you are, he didn't make demands or try to make you be something your not. He got used to my quietness and could fill in with conversation when I didn't know where to go. Although he didn't really know me that well, I considered him my closet friend in the city. I learned that he was originally from Dallas Texas, not that you could miss that southern drawl. Another additive to his charms, and he used it well when it suited him. He never talked about his family and he didn't have any pictures up in his room. I wanted to find out what made him tick, his cool calm was something I admired about him. But you could see in his eyes, that letting you in all the way was something he decided in his own time. So I would wait him out. Something told me he had demons on his back and didn't want to kick dirt up on a sore subject. I knew a lot about the ugly sides of life, I'd never want to upset him. If I lost Aidan I would be back to square one. But I longed for a true deep relationship with someone else. I missed talking for hours, even though I couldn't really think of much to say.

  At work, I was fast becoming one of the top servers, I was able to manage my time and take on more tables then I'm supposed to. I learned that fall in the city meant a new change in staff. The old left and the new came in. In my first month alone we had five new servers come and go. I was beginning to understand my bosses constant bad mood. After investing time and training on some of these people, I wanted to bat them over the head when they walked out myself. I found that my boss gave me all the best shifts and the money was coming in steady. I was even able to by some fabric and start making my own clothing for the winter season. I didn't bring much with me when I came, just two suitcases. I would need to buy some winter items, the winters here were just as brutal as home and since I walked everywhere it was vital to have appropriate clothing. I promised my self I would learn the subway before the snow hit.  The less I had to be in the cold the better. I knew that it would also cut my travel time. But for now I enjoyed the crisp fall weather in the mornings and the warm sun in the afternoon. I needed exercise after all. I tried not to be home a lot. I pushed myself to do some sight seeing and to go out even if it was by myself. I refused to be a home body. I even thought about asking Aidan to get me a fake id so I could check out some of the clubs after work with the servers. They asked me to go a few times but I'm only eighteen. I didn't really like the idea of a fake id, but if it meant making friends I could deal. I knew my limits and how to stay out of trouble. I just needed to get in the door.

On Saturday I knocked on Aidan's door and a pretty blond answered. I smiled although I was surprised.
" hello, I'm sorry, I usually go to the market with Aidan on Saturdays. But he must be busy, could you just tell him Ella stopped by?"
Aidan opens the door and smiles. " Hey Ella, Ill be ready in a second, can you give me like ten minutes?"
I nod uncomfortable. " Ah, Sure, just knock on my door when your ready, nice meeting you."
I walked quickly back to my room and shut the door. I knew the blond was not happy to be disturbed and I could hear the low murmurs of arguing. Well, I had really done it now. After a few minutes a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to find Aidan smiling with an empty mug.
" Hey can I borrow a cup of Joe?"
I smile and let him in. I set up a little keurig I bought for sale and put a k-cup in. I knew he liked it black and strong. I notice him looking around but I don't say anything.
" Only been here a month and your place is already coming together over here. It looks nice. I like your painting."
I smile. " I saw that my first day here, it reminds me why I'm here.'
Aidan smiles at her " Why are you here?"
I was a little thrown off, he doesn't usually get into personal stuff.
" I'm in fashion Design school, I want to make my own clothing and maybe have my own little shop one day. I have wanted to come here for as long as I could remember."
Aidan smiles. "Is it everything you thought it would be?"
I smile unsure of what to say. "So far, so good. But I think I need to get out more. I have been meaning to ask you about that fake Id you told me about?"
Aidan laughs. "Didn't take you long to ditch the good girl image. Sure I can get one for you, I know a guy and he makes legit looking ones. Not any rip offs if you know what I mean. I think he charges around a hundred bucks but I could probably get it to half, he owes me."
I was nervous about it and I thought that was a ridiculous amount of money for a card, but if I wanted to meet people and have some fun in my life, I was going to have to spend some money. I earned some fun hadn't I?
"Where are you from originally Ella? I don't detect a funny accent, i cant peg you. I'm usually good with accents."
"I'm from upstate NY, about five hours from here. Close to Syracuse. But there isn't much there if you know what I mean. Its not the place I wanted to end up in forever."
Aidan sits on my bed and sips his coffee. " I can certainly understand that. where I am from there are more tumble weeds blowing around than people. I put that place behind me the minute I left it. I'll never go back there."
I watched him curiously. He hadn't been this open with me yet, something in his eyes told me he didn't with many people.
"I'm never going back either, there is nothing there for me anyway."
Aidan sits up. "No family waiting up all hours of the night worrying about their little girl in the big bad city?"
I laugh and turn to fiddle with the keurig, straitening up an invisible mess. What would I say.
" I have parents, if you want to call them that. We are better off away from each other."
He nods. " Well, its their loss then. You seem fine to me. Maybe a little uptight but normal."
I was so taken aback by his honesty that I couldn't help but laugh. No one had ever been that candid with me before and I found that I liked it.
"I suppose I am a little uptight. I just don't want to mess up here."
He smiles. " Something tells me you wont. I think whatever you set out to do, someone like you gets it done. So don't worry so much. You have been here a month and I never see you with anyone. Have you made any friends?"
I shrug. "I'm trying but I'm not very good with people."
Aidan stands up and sets the mug on her little counter.
"Maybe I can help you with that, I'll take you out and show you the ropes, introduce you around. First things first, Ill call about that Id later. Lets get to the market before all the good stuff is gone."
I grab my light jean jacket and lock up behind me. We make our way out of the building in our usual silence, but it isn't awkward. I think he finds my lack of needing to talk refreshing at times to. When we get to the market I allow him to steer us in the direction he wants to go. I watch as he looks things over, picking them up, smelling them, squeezing and measuring. Its like a dance between a chef and his food. I had a million questions and sometimes I asked a few. He never seemed to mind or showed that I was bothering him with all my questions. After a few hours we ended up out for lunch. Every place somewhere different, with different food options. He always made me try something I never had before, sometimes I even let him order for me and surprise me with what I got. It was fun and carefree and for the afternoon I didn't feel alone. Usually after lunch we would split off. I would try to find something to do with my time and he would go do whatever it was that he did during the day. But this time we decided to go see a movie. It was a total crap shoot as far as movies went, but we had a good time making fun of the horrible acting. When I went home to get ready for work, It was the first time since arriving in the city where I wasn't by myself all day. Someone had spent an entire day with me and I had more fun then I expected to have. Things were looking up. And Aidan was becoming more of a godsend than he could ever know. I hoped there were more people like him out there to meet. I might even be in a click of my own here the way things were going. On my way to work I whistled to myself. I had a happy little pep to my step and I knew just who to thank for it.

Chapter two: the ella project

After three days of reading the paper, checking websites, I finally got a call back for Ruby Tuesday's. I dressed as if I was going to a job interview at some big firm. I figured I was over doing it a little bit but I wanted to set a good example, I was running out of time. Classes started in four days and I wanted to have a job lined up before I had to worry about classes and homework. I have been doing well with my budget, staying on a strict less then twenty dollar a day budget. I only need food and a few supplies at this point. I went to the restaurant and checked in with the hostess. I sat at the table she took me to and as I waited for the manager I went through everything I wanted to say before the interview started. A women with black hair cropped around a very serious face, sat down. She didn't ask my name or anything, just started hammering questions at me like a drill Sargent. I was a little taken aback by her head on approach but I didn't shy away from the questions. She asked why I had moved to the city, what I was going to school for and what hours I could work. I figured that was a good sign. After twenty minutes with a women I deemed not very happy with her job, I was offered a serving position. The hours were exactly what I needed, I would be working the dinner shift five days a week and since my classes were done by two, Id have plenty of time to do a little homework before my shift. I looked around the restaurant and it was packed, people going in and out. I had never seen a two level Ruby Tuesday before, I wondered how many tables I would get at one time. I got pretty used to large sections at the pizza shop. Not many people liked to show up for their shifts and I was often left with the overflow. I suppose all the constant over worked nights paid off in preparing me for the big city. I was asked to come in the next day to start my four days of training and testing. When no one was looking I put a menu in my purse. I needed to get ahead of the curve. Knowing the menu would be half the battle.

 Later that night I went home after finding some dinner and stopping in a clothing department to find a few pairs of black pants and some black shirts and some slip resistant shoes. I spent more than my budget but it was things I needed. I still had to pay and pick up my books in the morning for class. That was the last thing on my prep list for school. I picked up some school supplies randomly over the last few days. I was ready to go. I had a place, a job and even a few new friends in the building. There were a few girls my age on the second floor. I could tell like me they didn't have much of a family. I was sure a few of them were caught up in the drug scene a little bit. But everyone was friendly and welcoming and minded their own business. The walls were thin and I could hear pretty much everything people were doing around me. But instead of annoying me, it comforted me, like I wasn't really alone. If something happened and I yelled for help, someone would come. It was the first time I felt like I was an actual person in this world, who existed for a reason. I wasn't just here to survive or to get out of a bad situation. I was here to finally start my life. On my own terms and I everyday I felt more and more vibrant and more sure that I made the right choice to come here.

  I went back to my job the following day after running all my last minute errands for school. I only had a four hour shift and most of it was spent watching videos and filling out tests and paper work. It seemed to be basic and easy, there was no really hard French things to say or anything like that so I can manage. I wasn't familiar with wines but that is something I could learn as I go. Most people knew what they wanted anyway, I could always make up a good reference, which would be the most expensive of course. I met a few of the other servers, they seem to all be in a click together. There was clicks at the pizza shop, and I had some friends to but I'm here to make money. I never cared much for the small talk. However, although I was surrounded by people, I was starting to miss my friends from home. They never really understood me and they think im crazy for being here, but they didn't laugh at me or say I couldn't do it, for that they were good friends. They were probably back home, with new boyfriends, trying to settle down like they seem to do so early there. Its the life they wanted, but I couldn't stomach the idea of never amounting to anything. I tried to convince them that school was the way to go, even if it was just a community college, but like most people from back home they didn't see the need for it. I gave up after awhile, and promised I would call and tell them all about the big city. So after my first day, after a hot meal and a long bath, I called home to talk to my best friend Sarah. We were neighbors and grew up together. In her own way she was special, she didn't have much but she was always positive and upbeat. She was content in the life she had, so how could I begrudge her that. I told her about my place, and my school and about my job at Ruby Tuesday. She told me I was silly for going all the way to New York city to get a job at Ruby Tuesday when there was one five miles from home. I didn't bother explaining that I was actually here for school, another reality that seemed to boggle her mind. If I already know how to sow and make clothing then, why do I have to go to some fancy school. I tried to avoid things that she wouldn't understand but that left little to talk about. I told her about some of my neighbors and that I was making friends. I told her about fall in the city and walking through central park. She asked if there was bums everywhere. I started to get angry with the things she wanted to know about, but I supposed it was normal for someone who had never been here. I guess I was already defending the city I lived in. It filled me with pride to tell her these things, even if I knew they would be laughing about me at their next field party. It hit me then, that these people wouldn't be in my life forever. eventually I would stop calling home, stop trying to make them understand. But for now I was desperate for someone to be at least a little bit proud of me. I after all, had found my way in one of the biggest cities in the world. When I hung up my mood was no longer up beat. I felt a little jipped out, a little sad that no one really gets it.

 Over the last few days before school, I finished my training and got my first serving shift. I was surprised to see I made three hundred dollars in tips on my first night in four hours. I worked harder than I ever worked, I didn't have a second of down time. But the clock moved fast and I never had an empty section. People seemed to be enjoying themselves and I assumed I was doing a good job. My usually grumpy boss actually smiled at me a few times that night. I think she appreciated the fact that I didn't waste time or bother her with a lot of corrections. I am a bit of a perfectionist and I like to make sure everything I do is efficient and correct. I noticed a few of the other servers giving me thumbs up or saying hello as I passed. I think they two were testing me to see if I was someone they would have to work around, or someone they could work with. I listened to their banter in the serving area, even laughed a few times at their silly reenactments of their bitchy costumers and I learned that more than a few of them were aspiring actors and models and I wondered if they would ever make it to the pictures, would I ever be able to say, "hey, I knew that person when they were serving tables." The possibility of that made me smile. Only in New York city. My mood began to pick up as routine settled in. I went to orientation and to my first classes. I was happy to be getting things started. I didn't mind that there was already homework and projects, and I didn't mind that my feet ached when I got home. I was doing something with myself. But for as good as I was doing, I still felt lacking. I still felt alone. I needed to make some friends, I needed to have some fun. To remind myself, that life was mine now to control. Maybe I would try a little more to make some friends at work or in the building. I'm sure I could find someone I could confide in and do things with. Its not that I'm uncomfortable being on my own, but after awhile you just want to turn to someone and say.."did you see that?" Even surrounded by millions, you still needed someone. And aspect I didn't foresee before now.

Chapter one: The Ella Project

I cant believe I am here. I cant believe I am doing this. I must be out of my damn mind to think that I could do something this crazy. But, here goes nothing. I'm a eighteen year old women, free from the pressures of adolescence. High school is behind me. Now all I have is a out of date sowing machine that used to belong to my grandmother a few thousand dollars I managed to save from serving burgers in a diner, a suitcase with my own self made clothing and the great big apple waiting to swallow me up. This is the city of dreams for someone like me, and others torment. I hope I don't become the latter.

 Taking a breath I walk down the side walk. I didn't have a plan, I didn't know where I was going to be staying. I just had to get the hell out of that hell hole I grew up in. I guess my story is similar to the millions of girls that come here, escaping a nasty childhood with two abusive asshole parents,pissed off because I have my youth and my whole life ahead of me and their drowning in misery. I never cared much for my parents. I figured I was better off there then in some girls home somewhere. Its not like your likely to get adopted as a teenager. So, I did my time, kept my head down. I got good grades and worked at a stinky old dinner that didn't ask how old I was. I got by. I even managed to get into a fashion design school right here in the city. Of course, housing doesn't come with it. But I had to take the chance in front of me. All I want out of life is to make my own clothing and make enough to survive doing it. I don't need to be some big hot shot. That isn't why I'm here. I'm here to learn from the heart of the fashion world. Something I couldn't get in my run down trailer park in upstate New York. The best fashion advice I got from there was every example of how to make it to the fashion police line up. That place was sucking the life out of me. Just moments after stepping off the bus, I already felt a freedom like never before. I made my way down the side walk with my head a little higher. I was here and I was going to make it work. There was no going back. I was on my own from here on out and I was going to make something of myself.

  After walking a few blocks I found a pizza place and went in. I got a slice and got to work on my i phone goggling places I could stay. I wanted to stay close to school since I only had a week until classes started. I needed to find a place to live and a job before then. It was going to be a lot of work, but hard work never scared me. I bet I could make a killing here serving. I bet more people come in, in one day then two years at the boring dead end town I sprouted from. The possibilities here were endless. I just had to reach out and take them. After twenty minutes of battling myself over budget, I found a hotel six blocks away for less then a hundred dollars a night. I couldn't believe how much things cost in the city. I had fifteen thousand dollars, but that was it. My entire life savings and the only safety net I had. I couldn't afford to be frivolous. I would get in touch with a Realtor first thing and find an apartment I can pay a few months ahead in rent in. I needed to make sure every move I made was careful. It was easy to get caught up in the city. I hoped one day I was able to afford to be swept up and just buy what I felt like without worrying. I suppose after a year here I can do that. All good things come in time. School was a priority, getting a job was a priority. Fun could come later. Unlike most eighteen year olds, the party was the furthest thing from my mind. After all, my parents partied their whole life...look where that got them. No thanks. Besides, I don't enjoy puking and feeling like shit.

 I arrived at the hotel, and as I expected it was a creepy place. It was rented by the hour so the people in the lobby were not the business hours type of worker if you know what I mean. I paid them no mind. I may not of had hookers all around my home town, but there was plenty of hoes. The only difference is one is smart enough to spin a profit off of it. I don't begrudge anyone, I just hope im never in the situation where selling my body is my only option. But as someone who grew up in the thick of shit, sometimes its all people know how to do. We only know what were shown in this life. I'm just going to work extra hard so I dont end up in the life like so many of my peers. Most are married and pregnant by twenty. Sure, I wanted kids one day. But not until my house was in order. After checking in with the bitchy but hip man dressed as a women, I went to my room and locked myself in. I didn't turn around when I turned the lights on. I didn't want to see any roaches. Id rather pretend they were not there. The wallpaper was yellow and peeling off the walls in the corners. There was the old smoky smell of years of drunk exhales that lines this place. I hoped the sheets were at least washed before they let her rent it out. But this was what I could afford, so I would make do.

 After a luke warm shower and a pair of fresh clothing, I went out to walk around. I wasn't going to spend any money on anything but when I went past a street vender I saw this beautiful painting of a girl dancing in the rain, the city alive around her, but shes caught up in the childlike dance of joy. I bought it for ten dollars. It was the first thing I bought for my first place in my new life, and it suited my mood perfectly. I supposed I would remember this day every time I looked at it hanging on whatever wall I find. Somewhere in this big city was a place for me to call my own. After a few hours of window shopping and stopping to watch street performers and listening to the hustle and bustle of the city. I went back to my room. I needed to get an early start.

 In the morning I went to the nearest Realtors office, three blocks away. I told her the area I was interested in seeing and she already had a few ready for me to see. I waited for her to make a few calls, and then we were on our way with her driving service. I felt like I was some wealthy queen, I just hoped she was someone who understood what a tight budget meant. When we pulled up to the building I knew she hadn't missed my budget at all. It was a stone building, and it wasn't very pretty. It felt like a prison to me, but I was willing to give it a chance. The area looked to be a little bit on the rough side, and the way the Realtor didn't want to loiter let me know I was not going to want to spend much time out on the stoop. I went in and looked at a shoe box with a bed that came out of the wall. I wanted to throw up at the smell of old and musty. I didn't care what my budget was at that point, no way in hell was I staying in that place. I could work with little, but that was pushing it. I wouldn't be surprised to find out someone was murdered in there once. The place just creeped me out. We moved on to another place a few blocks up. The neighborhood wasn't much better, but people would smile at us as we passed. I thought that was a better sign. The building was the typical New York high rise apartment building. Nothing to fancy but it wasn't ugly either. we went up to the fifth floor. The apartment was very small but she had a separate room for her bed and everything was updated. I could hear the neighbors through the wall and smell what they were cooking. But I could handle that. Its not like trailers are good at containing noise either. I asked her how far it was from my school. She said it was only a ten minute walk. I didn't know how much that was in distance but I figured it was more around twenty minutes to a half hour. I knew location was something they embellished on to suite themselves. I asked to see the final place she had to show me. It was a lot cheaper than I had asked for but when I got there and realized it was a dorm house, it made sense. I had my own room and bathroom but I would have to share a kitchen and common areas with other members of the house. The stipulation to live there is you have to be a student somewhere Manhattan, which I obviously fit that bill. They offered year leases at a time, and since it was so cheap she wouldn't have to stress so much. It was a unisex home, and the only rule was to keep the noise down after ten pm unless there is a mutual agreement on entertaining. I met the land lord and signed right away. I knew I wanted to have my own place but this wasn't any different then what most people get in a normal college situation. The more I could save, the better off I would be. If I didn't like it I could find somewhere else. It was my first full day in the city and I already had a place to stay. I accomplished my first goal. I had six more days to land a job and then things would be perfect. For the first time I took a breath of relief. I really could do this.

 I went back to the hotel to check out and collect my things. I went strait back to the dorm house and met my neighbor Aidan. He was in a hurry but he made sure to shake my hand and introduce himself, even asked me out to pizza the next night to get to know each other. I accepted, I had a boyfriend before, I wasn't new to the whole men thing. I went through a little bit of a phase when I was pissed off at the world. I made a few mistakes. I'm not proud of it, but I made a vow to myself that I would never sleep with someone I didn't really love again. I wasn't going to go down a road I didn't want to go. I was in a rush to see what the fuss was about, and now I know. Everyone is allowed a few stupid things when their young, right? At least I was already making friends, that was a positive thing. I had a place, and I met a new person. I was feeling pretty good about myself. When I went to sleep that night, I dreamt of only happy hopes and dreams.

Vampires...gotta have a lil bite!

If vampires were real?....What a nutty question....okay I must blog about it then. I love the odd ball weirdo questions.

  Okay, here is a very brief summery of the history of the "Vampire" Legend. The tales of those that come in the night to feed on the blood of humans is older than the bible itself. But before you have a total cow with that, lets back step a bit. Perhaps this was a way to keep youngsters close to home or keep them from venturing from their beds at night? Some people thought they were real because when they dug someone up who had been buried for awhile, they had long Dracula nails and fangs...when all reality science proves that as your cuticles decay it makes your nails appear to be longer...and the teeth...well k-9 teeth always stick out...they just look dramatic when there are no lips or skin. So, it was chalked up to mistaken natural occurrences. But that didn't stop the story from flooding down from generation to generation. Some added somethings so that children wouldn't be so frightened, like that cant come in unless you invite them. Or the sunlight burns their skin, or you can kill them with a wooden stake to the heart. Many movies and shows have been made around this story, I admit I enjoy a good vampire story. I mean how alluring...to never age or die, to have all this power over humans, to basically be the most elite killer. Who wouldn't be fascinated by all that. Some stories they try to humanize vampires, by making them fall for a human, or by making them have human dreams of being a singer or something, or a teen who is just trying to fit in with the human world. It makes us all just move more to the edge of our seat. I mean look at twilight. people just ate that crap up. I loved the books...the movies...puke.

  What would I do if a vampire was real...um, run...duhh. Im not stupid enough to think that it will love me or spare me or what have you. No..im their food...and their hungry so I better be crafty in my escape. But in all reality Id probably just stand there trying to make sense of what I was seeing and just say "well Shit!"
Maybe They would think for a small second well that human was funny...but then they would forget about me as my cold dead body hit the ground. If you look at the whole vampire thing as a virus...why would they ever fall in love with their food. I mean yeah...we have pets..but I doubt they would look at a human like we look at a puppy. Face it...if they wanted in..they get in...if they want to eat you...they will. You cant appeal to a human emotion...cause their not human. Not anymore my friends...so if your mom or someone comes at you all pasty and trying to eat you...don't try to beg...or look for a stake...cut that ladies head off and hope its enough lol. They are made to kill you...to be faster and smarter and more evolved than you...your not going to get one to love you...even if your a damn supermodel. And personally...I'm not gonna make it easy for them...or enjoyable by screaming "No please don't kill me..." I'm gonna be like "well...do your worst you son of a bitch..i hate you already!" Then I would try to be a super ninja lol. But...still wind up dead in the end. Ooh well...at least I gave them some shit! Who likes being predictable...snooze. Then I could go to heaven and everyone would be like...I got hit by a train...or got the cancer...how did you die?...oohhh you know...trying to stomp this bad ass vampires  face, it didn't quite work out...but I did get a lick in. Could you imagine the reaction to that lol.

  If I was offered the chance to be one...id definitely mull it over lol. But I don't think I would choose it. I mean I really don't want to walk around for all eternity as this serial killer...blood is gross..I mean do you know what is in that! I don't like that as a food option. And helllo..I'm Irish..Ive been pasty my whole life...my goal is to get a tan so I stop looking dead...so yeah..no thanks. What if I eat someone I cared about. Id have to live with that forever...and how do you off yourself if your a vampire? Too much pain and struggle and loneliness. I can barley stand people now...I cant imagine being stuck on earth forever. Its more of a curse than a blessing. Id rather age gracefully and have a short run at life. Maybe I will get lucky and be reincarnated. There is more possibility as a human I think.

  What about you? What would you do if a vampire was real????

Chapter two of the first chaper sample i posted....like if you want more.

A few days had passed and the incident slipped my mind. I began my pre-summer preparation of my property. A few years back I had work done to ensure I wouldn't loose any land by the growing shoreline. I'm glad I got on top of it when I did, last year my neighbor lost a large amount of property in the winter thaw and it has yet to recede.

 I went for my yearly drive to Red's. A local place that sold flowers and plants for a fair price. I usually plant my own crops from seed, but my flowers, I like to see the results right away. It takes about twenty minutes to get there and I spend a fairly good chunk of my morning picking out the best flowers to decorate and complement my piece of the lake. I spared no expense. Some people buy clothing, or shoes, maybe they gamble or smoke. My obsession is my property. My yard never looks the same twice. Every year is a blank canvas and I enjoy seeing what my creativity invents. Maybe because im such a recluse with people I feel the need for them to connect with my home. I like that people slow down to look as they drive by. It gives me a sense of accomplishment. And their glowing red brake lights is all the approval I need.

  I get to work with the things that no one really enjoys doing, but needs doing.  First, I inspect the trees on my property and cut any limbs damaged from the winter storms and wind. I collect all the fallen sticks and logs that wash up on my self made beach.  I stack them in the back behind my barn. Nothing goes without a use here. I could use it for crafts, or I could burn it over the long winters or the campfires we have at my parties. Everything is turned back into my life on the lake. After that, I rake all the left over leaves and add them to my compost pile. Once my yard is cleaned of all Debee, I rake the remaining sand on my beach. Every year, I have had to add new sand but, the results are worth it. It gives the lake an almost tropical feel on the really hot sticky days of summer. Since, I am adjusted to the ebb and flow of the seasons, I always pre-order my sand. It is a long tedious chore and it takes me more than one day. It has pearly white sand on one side of the dock, and, fine black lava, sand on the other side of the dock. I like to view it as my own personal yin and yang tribute. Its the one and only continuous thing I have on my property, even though it appears to be different.

 Once the beach is cleaned, filled and raked to perfection, I bring out my beach gear, which consists of my tiki bar, tiki style pub tables and chairs with colorful bright umbrellas. I sent up my canopy tent with the grilling and dinning items underneath. Once that is finished, I build up my Caribbean style fire pit, with log style benches surrounding it. When I feel my vision is complete, I add the new decorative pieces and the flowers, to finish out the look. The docks go in by crew since, I can not do that myself. This year I invested in a all season dock and boat launch so that I didn't have to remove it every year. I'm skeptical how long it will last with these brutal winters, but if it does what they say, it will be worth it. I also decided to add some solar panels to my roof, which will cut my electric bill and ill begin collecting checks if I add to the electricity supply. I would throughly enjoy receiving a check instead of having to pay them. I look at it as the best middle finger you could give the monopoly monsters.

  After the yard is how I want it, the garden is planted, I look at the property itself, this year I needed to install new windows on the greenhouse which are also solar powered. I found my previous carefully planning to be lacking.  I hoped these new solar windows would last a bit longer. I  always power wash the deck, restrain and paint the shutters. I power wash the house and get the windows and the buildings professionally cleaned. I believe it is bad luck to start a season without the best foot forward. Which means the house is in order, functioning well, beautifully decorated and the most important of all, all the previous items are put away and the next are brought out. I sort through them, keeping what I want, getting new or giving away. I also view these as my own personal traditions. I may not have a family but I do have things that are my own.

  After all my chores are finished, I get back to work building up winters sale items. I always build winter items in summer, and in winter I make seasonal and summer items. I am pretty good at making things that move quickly, that people would like or give as gifts. After all the point is to make money right. I try to stay in touch with style and trending items by reading magazines I subscribe to. I watch TV at night, watching as others live their lives in the open. The total opposite of myself.  I may not talk to many people but Im just as current as everyone else. I consider myself a connected hermit.

 After a few days of settling back into my routine, things begin to take a turn. The lights began to flicker. No matter what light I turned on, it flickered like a strobe light. I called three separate electricians and no one could give me a real explanation to why it was happening. After a few days, things would start to disappear, and the bruise on my knee wasn't healing. In fact, it was getting worse and I still couldn't feel a thing. I debated on going to the doctor, but all it was, was bruised. I decided I would give it a little more time before I began to freak out about it. I wasn't sure what was happening, but someone like me wasn't going to sit around and take it. I went around to every single light balb and put a new one in. I kept only the room light I was in lit, the rest of the house I would light with candles. I lit some sage and sweet grass and walked the house. I didn't think it had anything supernatural to it but I did know sage calmed the nervous and I needed to relax. I noticed that slowly the lights stopped being effected, and I was able to go on like it never happened. I still had no answers, but that feeling that something was still very wrong sat in my gut.

 My very first craft fair was coming up and I got to work selecting the stock, pricing it and packaging it. I have a caravan that I use for traveling, since its just me I only need the two front seats, the rest I fill with my equipment and my goods. I drive out jammed full and I return home with just my equipment. I sell out usually a few hours before the fairs end, so I can look around for things to buy for my home. I get some pretty good deals and sometimes I trade my stuff for someone else's. Thats why I like the craft store circuit, It gives me a sense on how things used to be in a early city market place. You also see things that are not on the store shelves all over the country.  I like things that are old and antique, but I don't want my home to look like an elderly women decorated it.  I buy a lot of things that should belong to a home by the sea. I like things that look a little bit rugged but beautiful at the same time. It suites me.

 The night before I'm due to leave, I like to get a early start on my sleeping. I drive as far out as las Vegas for some of these craft fairs. They are a lot more popular down south then they are up north. My first stop would be Tampa Florida and it was going to be a long drive to get there and to get home. I always packed light, I'm more of a person who dresses to be comfortable. I don't wear a potato sack or anything, but I prefer function over femininity. The van is always gassed up, tuned up and all the fuss and muss. My bags and favorite road side snacks are placed where they always are. I always pack a cooler of things. I don't eat much fast food. Sometimes I crave something greasy but I am on my eating healthy kick and that is hard to do that on the road. I mapped out the entire trip and i still use a gps. I like to plan for any outcome. Basically, anything you could possibly need on a road trip is in my van. I'm a bit of an over-doer. Id rather be prepared then in need.

I take my long bath with lavender soap shortly after eating dinner. I slip into bed and after twenty minutes of struggling I finally fall asleep before the sun is down for the night. My alarm goes off at three am and I reach over to shut off my alarm but I feel a cold hard wall. I open my eyes and am surrounded in darkness. The first feeling is confusion but I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the dark. I get up slowly trying to feel around, my stomach knotted in fear. Where the hell was I? Using the wall, I walk forward slowly. It feels like an eternity but it is only a few feet. I feel a light switch with my hand and I turn it on. I am in my own basement. How the hell did I get here, you cant get into the basement unless you go outside. I must have walked out here in my sleep. This is where I stormy stock and I was thinking about the trip to Miami. I tried to piece together the logic as i made my way out of the basement. I shut the doors and put the pad lock back on the metal doors. I walk to the back deck and see that the sliding glass door is wide open.
 "Shit."
It had rained, so I had a mess to mop up, but I made quick work of it. I didn't want my schedule to get pushed back. After a hot shower to get the stiffness out of my bones, I make my bed and dress, eat breakfast and lock everything up, like i always do. By 4:30 am, I'm headed out the drive way. I like to make cds for each trip, so that im not stuck listening to the same stuff all the time. I just pop a CD in and play it from the first track to the last track and its always songs I like. It helps me pass the time, jamming out as I hit the open road. I'm usually filled with this sense of freedom and adventure. This time I didn't even bother to hit play on the CD player, I didn't feel free. I felt like i spent the night on a hard floor. And I was tired already. I wasn't going to go off plan. So I hit play, rolled my window down and put the pedal to the medal.

  Some time around ten, I pulled into a rest stop, fueled up and ate my lunch on a picnic table, used the rest room and walked around for ten minutes to wake myself up and get the stiffness out. I bought the biggest cup of coffee and hit the road again. Around three, I pulled in again and repeated my routine with the dinner I packed. I had planned to drive until 3am. I was bone tired, but I hadn't been nodding off so I pushed onward with my trip. At four in the morning i pulled into the hotel I had a reservation at. I went up and ordered a big breakfast making sure nothing was greasy. I ate wishing i had a plate full of bacon. I suppose i was experiencing some sort of withdraw from fatty foods. I would just have to move past it.

  As I was getting ready for my shower, I noticed I had another large bruise on my left side, it was just as violent and purple as the one on my knee. What was happening to me? How did I get this? I must have fallen when I was sleep walking. Again, I felt no pain. Maybe I just had a high pain tolerance. I shrugged off the nagging feeling of danger and took a shower. It didn't take me long to fall asleep. My alarm sounded at 1pm and I hit the road. I was due to arrive in Tampa around dinner time. I slept better and I wasn't so tired, the rest of the trip i got back into my old routine. Just like the distance passing from me and my home, I pushed back the feelings I didn't want to face.

 I arrived to the craft fair grounds at six the following morning. It wasn't due to open until eight but I needed some time to set up and get organized. Theft is easy here, so I like to make sure I set it up where I can keep an eye on everything even when I'm ringing people out. I rarely have a problem with losses but it happens from time to time. The first day is usually pretty busy, its the beginning of the season and people are excited for their summer rituals. I make a large amount of sales, but I anticipated as much. The fair closes at dark. I usually stay an extra hour to restock and organize, then I lock up my tent. There is security that stays there twenty four hours but I still like to be careful. I know a pad lock can be easily broken into, but they will have to make noise for that.

  The second day goes as I expect and I sell more of my goods. By midday the final day I have nothing left to sell. I break down my area and load up my van, stopping by the office to pay the venue rental fee's. After that I walk the park and buy what I want. A little after dinner time I go back to the hotel. Just like before I left, I would get a lot of sleep and stick to the same routine coming down. I count my money from the sales and deduct my supply fees, the profit I deposit before heading home in the nearest Key bank to the hotel, previously goggled. I wont stay in a hotel that isn't close to one. The longer you have the cash in hand, the longer the risk of getting robbed. I suppose I am a bit paranoid, but I never like holding that much cash at one time.

  I made it home and pull into the drive way just as the sun is setting. For the first time in my life, im not happy to be home.

 

A third sample of writing...a blog this time. Not a chapter in a book.

Every person in their lifetime hears the phrase, "It's all apart of your Journey." For generations upon generations, people have been generating life around the prospect that it ends eventually and what you do with your time while your here, must count for something. It must have meaning, and so we spend this "Journey" Trying to find the one great purpose that we were put here to do. But what no one seems to realize, even in the grand scheme of it all, not everyone will find their purpose. Somewhere out there someone will not live up to the potential they were destined for. So if that is the case, is the meaning of life to have purpose?

   There is also the idea that the meaning of life is to have a family and love the people in your life that matter. But there is that truth again, that somewhere out there, someone grows up alone, with no one in their lives. So is the meaning of life to have people you love to for-fill it?

  Now I come to the idea that happiness and living every moment to its fullest is the meaning of life. To embrace the beauty of the very moment your existing in. But, reality shows us that not all people are willing to live life on the cuff, they believe in planning things out long term and the short term doesn't count for much. So the question then comes, is the meaning of life to be happy and to be present in the time your in right now?

  Life is about learning right, the meaning of life has been said to be doing and experiencing and learning things that will enrich your life. Its about teaching others how we can all be better to one another or to our planet. But there are still people out there that litter, that choose conflict over peace, who hates the idea of learning and school and has no intention of bettering the world we live in, so then is the meaning of life to embrace learning and doing as much as you can?

  Faith is powerful, it enriches your soul and your life. Churches build community's and from them steams hope and possibility and it has been noted that the meaning of life is to serve the one in which you believe. To find the "heaven" you seek in the after life. Is the meaning of life through service of ones belief and in basing your life on the concept of those beliefs?

   All these questions, all these scenarios, where am I going with all this you ask? I am going in the direction, that there is no direction. No one reason or path, or concept. The meaning of life is simply whatever you choose it to be. What I do in my life, what I believe, how I live...it only effects me and those that know me, so my so called destiny can not be the same as another. No matter what you hear, or what your told. The meaning of life is found within your own self. its not complicated, its not this big out of reach question that everyone thinks it is. When you sit down and think about what the meaning of your life is. The first thing that comes to your mind, is what your life is supposed to be. Stop basing every choice on what others guide you to follow. Do what you feel, go in the direction you want to. The answers will be right there, no matter what direction you roam. Its all right there within your spirit, in your self. We all have our own scripts of the movie plots we live, and each one of them is an academy award winning performance with a message that will impact another, somewhere, in some point in time. We are all a ripple in the ocean, and each of those ripples makes a mark in the sand, it may eventually fade into nothing...but one truth remains...it existed in the first place.

A sample Chapter of a book I am working on...sample number two...diffrent from the last sample!

  " If I had to explain to you what the world is like in my time, you wouldn't believe what I'd tell you. In your time, humans are at the top of the food chain. The best of the best, the most evolved and intelligent species. I wish I could say that, that remains true over the three hundred years in the future that separates us. I cant waste any more time hoping that we will be able to figure out a way to stop this. The only other option we have of saving man kind, is to go back to the beginning and try to stop it before it begins. Even now as I write you, im unsure if the device I built to send it to your time will work, it is a prototype i made a few years ago for collecting samples, with a little modifications, well...its the last chance we have. I am going to die today, wither you get this or not. But there is still hope for the ones left. I need your help, I need you to listen and to work together to stop this. working together is the one thing that could have saved us all. But we choose to not give an opportunity for a union. This is what you must choose. In this year, you will find out that the Galaxy you belong to is part of a very big system of Galaxy's and with each system is a species. All of which are at war with each other. we aim destruction at one, after demolishing their neighbors. Its kill or be killed because we didn't try to find a way to work and coexist together. Maybe if we had, all our Galaxy's would be prosperous and not going extinct. I beg you to take this warning as truth, to choose peace instead of fear. Whatever you do, don't make the first strike. Do not start a conflict, if you can do that. then your already changing our history. I wish you luck. God Speed, I hope you can prevail where we failed. The existence of Man kind is in your hands. Choose wisely."

 Very calmly I watch as Hogan reads the report sent to them by Washington.
"When did this arrive?" Ella taps her finger tips on the desk trying to quell her frustration.
" Apparently three months before the first invasion. So about four years ago, they have been sitting on this as we research and slave away trying to understand why they are coming here or what they want. They specifically said not to make the first strike, not to go to war. They wanted them to be peaceful. But the first thing they did was attack. That makes no sense. They obviously would have checked where the signal transfered in from, and saw that it was not anywhere in our galaxy. They knew that they would be dooming mankind. Why would they do that Hogan?"
Hogan sighs and removes his glasses. His partner of ten years, Ella Sinclair stared at him in frustration. He sets the fax down.
" Because they think that they are smarter then the first attempt made, so they are going to prove they made the right choice by repeating the same mistake. They made the choice on pride, which im assuming was similar to the first attempt which was probably fear. There are several versions of emotions that could play out. They couldn't have known that this version would just be another jump down a rabbit hole. Perhaps, we could find a way to resend it back in time like they did? They just proved it was possible. Obviously NASA hasn't cracked it yet, or we would be head of that operation. Maybe thats our salvation."
Ella sits down on her lab stool and rubs her face.
" Hogan, were barley surviving a day with the amount of in coming fire. Their technology is better than ours, their more evolved then us. I mean... dammit Hogan, its been four years and we have only figured out three of their weapons in a vast arsenal of weapons. We don't have the time to research and to experiment. Right now we need to figure out some way we can shield ourselves. Every one of those space ships has their own defense shield. If we cant beat them, maybe we can find a way to block their weapons from getting in."
Hogan begins to pace. She lets him process his thoughts, pacing in long strides meant he was onto something, so she would wait him out. After a few minutes he stops pacing and turns to look at her.
" Your right, we need to build a defense. Once the defense is built we need to research their shields, see if we can find a weakness. Once we give the green machine what they want, you and I are going to figure out how to resend this message back in time. Then find a way to include the technology and the intelligence we created on time travel in case we find another rabit hole. Maybe if we can just keep the spin of a warning going, eventually the right choice will be made."
Ella nods. " As long as security and defense come first. I know your a think tank Hogan, but we have to stay realistic. We lost a lot of tools, supplies and technology in the last raid. Most of the solar panels were taken out. We have to work with what we have, in the time we have. Lets focus on this shield, get some ideas flowing."
Hogan nods. "OK, we know that each ship is marked with some sort of symbol, thats the way they tell each other apart. With the surveillance we were able to save, there are six separate symbols that seem to be allies, another four who have grouped, the rest of the thirteen seem to be functioning on their own. They are fighting each other, as well as ourselves. So, we can either find a way to ally with one of these thirteen free agents, one of these major groups or we can go it alone. Considering what we know, communication is pretty much none existent and we are still unsure on how they communicate between each other. I don't think we have time for a language assessment?"
Ella shakes her head. "Definitely not, besides what would we monitor with. All our drones are dead."
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Right. What about Washington. Is there supplies there we could use?"
Ella gets up and pours two cups of tea, they ran out of coffee a week ago.
" Washington went off line three hours ago. Their assessing the problem. My guess they were attacked. These sneak attacks are becoming more common. They have a cloaking system. Damn, I wish I could get my hands on one of their ships. This would be so much easier."
Hogan smiles. " Every ship self destructs, you know this."
She sighs. " I know, maybe I could find a way to trip the system."
Hogan sips his tea. "Haven t the time or the tools doll. Keep thinking."
She grumbles frustrated but drinks her tea.
 " We tried electromagnetic shields, that was ineffective. We tried viruses, both technological and illness, nothing effects them. Which means they probably know about all the germs possible here and built up antibodies, they knew we would try to hack and use electricity and the elements. Were going to have to really go outside the box. We need to find the one thing they wouldn't expect us to be able to get yet. We need to jump in front of a moving train my friend. And were only going to have one shot." As she begins to take out a pen and her notebook her desk begins to shake violently, Hogan immediately stands up, mirroring Ella, he takes her hand, " Its an attack, come on, we have to get to the shelter."
As they make their way across the shaking ground the door to their lab blows open and a large beaming light blinds them, a high pitched screeching noise brings immediate pain, dropping them both to their knees, hands cupped over ears withering in pain. Ella shuts her eyes and it all stops. She quickly opens them suddenly and she is in some sort of medical room strapped to a gurney type bed. Four shadowed creatures, just out of sight move with purpose around her, making strange noises. Her eyes feel heavy but she fights to keep them open.
She tries to speak but it comes out slurred. " Who are you? Wheres Hogan? What the hell are you doing...let me.."
And then the dark comes, pulling her into the deepest sleep she has ever had. Where she was, no longer mattered.

A Sample of a chapter from a book im writing.....Does it peak anyones interest?

   I woke suddenly with the feeling that if I didnt get up right now and run, if I didn't get out, then I was going to die. The fear sunk so deep, so intensily that although I wanted desperatly to follow the urge to run, I was frozen in complete terror. There I was, frozen, without taking a single breath, panicing at a dilemma, with no reasoning as to why I was so frightened. When My lungs burned from lack of air the natural breath or die reflex kicked in and I began to cough and choke. I fought through the wave of breathing too quickly and recovering by coughing till my sides hurt. Once my breathing slowed the fear lessened. However, going back to sleep was out of the question.

 I walked out of my bedroom, down the hall, at the top of the stairs I paused and looked around. The hair on the back of my neck began to stand up and the urge to run came back. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could and at the bottom I felt my shins hit something, as if someone had pulled a rope to trip me. I fell to the floor, again I fought the fear, wanting to move but unable to. I couldnt understand what was happening. Was I still asleep?
   After a few minutes, I got up and although I didnt want to I slowly forced myself to look behind me. I figured if I hadnt been murdered by that point, the likley hood of someone standing there was slim. When I looked and saw nothing, I got up slowly. I didn't really hurt anything but my knee, I was sure I would have a nice bruise by sunlight. Maybe I was clumsy because I wasn't fully awake, obviously i had some sort of nightmare. That had to be what happened. I woke startled and it just took a few minutes to fully wake up and I tripped in my haste
to get down the stairs. That made perfect sense. So I got up and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. I flipped the switch and looked at my knee. I added an ibuprofen to my water break and went back up to my room. I would just turn the TV on and watch it until I fell back asleep. I could watch an infomercial, those were boring enough to induce a coma, so maybe there was hope for a mediocre nights sleep.

  My alarm sounded and I woke up with a start. The TV was still on, I laid for a few minutes listening, I was going to be awake this time. After my usual three mile run around Oneida lake, the only home I have ever really known, I felt a little calmer. The spring air was warm enough so I decided to eat my breakfast on the back deck. I was privileged enough to watch a family of ducks come into the small cove that was attached to my piece off, Damien's Point. I smiled as I ate my very plain diet oatmeal with blueberries. I wasn't over weight, but I made a promise to myself that I would eat healthy for one year and see if it benefited my life in any way. Thats the sort of person I am, I don't buy into what others recommend or suggest...I like to research the information and create my own sort of experiments. If it works, I will stick to it, if not, I move on. I suppose it keeps my very solitary life interesting. I never had much family, and the family I do have is either in another state, with new families and lives of their own, or their buried in the same cemetery that all of us end up in that are born here. No matter how hard you try to escape, this is always the first and the final resting place.
   Oneida lake has a way of pulling you in to its beauty so that nothing seems quite right without it close by. Its the only lake in the state of New York that turns itself over, which basically means is cleans itself out every year. It is abnormally shallow so that little toddlers can swim by the shore and if you go out a ways you can swim in deep water. You can sail it all summer long, in any boat you want and you will always see something new. People come to this lake in the summer, either on the famous sylvan beach or on the camps that line all its shores. Families gather here and make memories, they connect to the lake and it becomes the center of who we are, and we have a strong bond because of the lake.
   I enjoy sitting out and seeing the joy it brings, but I am not naive to the fact that this lake is also dark and twisted and it has claimed many lives. In fact its expected to take at least one life a year, at least that is the average since as far back as I can remember. Many people underestimate the power of this lake, and because of it they loose their lives. As a local, I know the rules, if its choppy, you better make it home and you don't want to get caught in a storm. Mind the shallow parts so you don't tare a hole in the boat. In some parts of the lake you have to go around entire islands to get to another part of the lake because its so shallow. In one area you can literally walk across from Damien Island to the next island, sea gull Island. In some places you can split off and go down rivers or creeks. Its an explorers dream and a fishermen's paradise. But it is also the biggest cemetery you could ever be in. And its secretes could make your head spin.

  I own a ranch style home with a large deck right on the shore of the lake. I made it to look like a log cabin. It seemed to complement the lake. My deck is two leveled and facing the lake head on. For lake front property, I have a fairy large yard. So I added a few things over the years, like my indoor greenhouse. I wanted to have my own fresh vegetables all winter long, plus it gets very lonely in the winters around here.  Many properties line this lake, about half are all year rounders. The upstate New York winters are brutal on the lake. You cant imagine the amount of snow we get out here. Its not uncommon to be snowed in a few days at least once or twice during the winter, and the chilly sharp wind is like a slap in the face, every time you step outside. But I made sure I had a large fireplace in my living room and my bedroom, I also installed heated flooring, and I still have to keep my heat on 75. Its not for everyone, but for a loner like me, I benefit from the long winter.
  Along with my green house I built a barn, which is basically my little factory. I make my own soaps and lotions, candles and pottery, I make some clothing and bedding, doll houses and toys. Its a mix match of artistic studios to keep my hands busy in my boredom. During the summer I have a stand at the farmers market in Syracuse, and in the winter I rent an Ikeia in the mall. I make a pretty good living, I don't have any employees so I profit more than most small businesses. This life probably wouldn't work for anyone with a family, but as I said, I don't have that issue.
   I spend a lot of time in the barn so I made sure I had large windows to still be able to look out on the lake. even in the brutal winter its breathtakingly beautiful. I also have two large fireplaces in the barn so I feel like I am at a camp and not just my home. The small amount of friends that I have made over my twenty seven years, like to come out and spend the night. We have some pretty wild parties on this lake. Not that anyone would know. There is one golden rule around these parts, everyone minds their own business. No one steals or breaks in. No one is rude or unfriendly, not to a local. We are all here for the same reason. However, we all feel the same about the summer visitors, they drive us crazy. But we put up with it because that is how our little town stays afloat. Without the summer business, I would have to drive a lot further to get supplies. I'm happy that its only about ten minutes up the road.  Our town consists of one main road with all the businesses on it. We don't have a hospital very close, but we do still have ambulances and you can make it there in about twenty minutes to a half hour by car. Its far enough from the fuss and muss of Syracuse, its too remote to be considered the suburbs, not country enough to be considered the sticks...its just, the lake. And it's perfect for me. I grew up three streets over from the house I currently own, but my view is way better. I will most likely live here until I die. I cant picture anywhere else that could feel like home to me.

  People view me as the eccentric loner. They think I'm some kind of witch lady in here doing witch craft because I make soaps and perfumes and crafts. Its funny, I thought witches did magic stuff. I don't mind that they stare at me, or they are always overly pleasant because they think if they make me mad im going to put some hew-do spell on them. I have never been mean with anyone so I don't really get their fear of me. But I cant denigh that I hide behind their little beliefs. It just makes it easier to avoid people. Its not that I don't like people, I'm just not very good at small talk. I can get along with any one really, and I can make friends. I just happen to be very picky. There are many things that are strange about me, I never really fit in anywhere. But it is fine with me, I view being different the highest of compliments. I may live a boring life, but to others, I am certainly not boring. I wonder what they will say about me when I am gone. I wonder if they would be disappointed to find out that im a methodist. I don't exactly go to church but I believe in god and when in need I look at the bible. Just like anything else, I like to pick what I feel my belief is and not really stick to what they want me to do. That was why after 18, I stopped going. its not for me.

  As I work on my electrical wiring of the doll house I built, I couldn't stop thinking about last night. What had I dreamt that caused me to wake up in a panic. It never happened to me before. It just sat in the back of my mind like a Nat flying around your plate when your trying to eat. It bothered me so much that I decided to take a break and Google what happened to me to see what came up. It of course didn't help. I got everything from an alien abduction, to ghosts, to a stroke. All of which I didn't think was the case. After a hour I gave up the search and chalked it up to a fluke. Whatever it was, I hoped it never happened again. It was strange though. I didn't feel the large bruise on my knee. It looked like it should hurt, like maybe even cause a little limp. But I didn't feel a thing. I decided to just be grateful instead of questioning it. But no matter what explanation I gave myself...something just felt off. and I couldn't place why.