koryuusei-writing-portfolio

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

The Order of Kamarys

Author's note: this section from my novel needs work (especially in one section), but there's something about these brothers that I like/intrigue me.

The marble hall glowed softly from the gentle lighting that was just bright enough to chase away the shadows where potential threats might hide. Heavy, dark red velvet curtains kept out the weakening sunlight. Footsteps echoed as Helion and his entourage made their way to the balcony. Helion’s footsteps were quick, almost hurried, in his desire to get this tedious task over with. The heavier footsteps of his right-hand general were steadier, his longer legs keeping up with his liege easily as he followed at a respectful, yet watchful distance, his gaze on their other companion. Demarus didn’t trust him and knew his liege didn’t either, and yet he had found his way very close to Helion. Too close, and much too fast.

The newcomer had showed up in Mylia’s capitol city a couple of weeks ago. He had somehow strolled up to the palace doors and demanded to speak to the ruler of the lands. How he had managed to make it that far had been a huge source of concern to the circle of generals. He stood before the main door, calm, confident, and completely unconcerned by the fact that he was surrounded by the most highly trained hunters of magi in all of Haidasha. That should have been the end of him, but as the generals closed in on him, he spoke again, his tone so confident and self-assured.

“You are going to want to hear what I have to say if you want to retain your hold on these lands.”

The generals were ready to pounce, their only concern was protecting their liege. This stranger, they could all sense, was a magic-user of a sort. It wasn’t the same as those they usually hunted, which made this man more dangerous. Demarus had turned to his liege, looking for the command to eliminate the stranger, instead Helion frowned. The young lord hesitated. It was the first time Demarus had ever seen Helion hesitate. Now, this stranger walked beside Helion, the young liege who could not sense the pulsing wave of magic that made Demarus’ skin itch.

Ptal was very aware of the eyes that were watching him. There were always eyes watching him, but he had come expecting that having been warned to expect resistance and hostility. But then, that’s also why he had been chosen for this mission. Ptal had a special knack for saying just the right thing to allow him to get just where he needs to be. Ptal turned his head to look at the young ruler of this insignificant little world. Helion was only about thirty years of age, or so Ptal was led to believe. With all the places and people he has seen over the years during his work, it was difficult to tell sometimes. Of course, to these people Ptal appeared to be a few years older than Helion when in fact he was about three times as old. Such short, meaningless lives they live. Despite what he said to get this close to the young lord, he had no intention to aid him in this. That wasn’t his purpose here. This...purge was not what he was interested in. It meant nothing to him, just an interesting little game to occupy his attention while he waited for a chance. Oh, how wonderful it would be if luck would be on his side. For now, it did not do him well to dwell on perchance. He would play the game, the role, until he either got what he was sent for or was recalled.

Still, Ptal wasn’t bored in this place. This young lord was amusing with his simple mission to eradicate his lands of something that was infused into the soil of the world. Magic had a way of doing that. The determined futility of his efforts was entertaining.

The trio turned a corner and walked up to a set of elegant double doors, the heavy curtains they usually hide behind pulled aside. Two more of Helion’s generals opened the doors as they approached. They bowed to Helion as he passed; the young lord nodded in return. Their eyes followed Ptal as he followed their liege. They stepped out into the fresh air and Ptal had his first look at the forces Helion had mustered. For what it was, the numbers were impressive. Ptal had to admit that, despite his youth, Helion certainly had thought out his coup pretty well. He had moved quickly and efficiently to take control and implement his plan. And Ptal had to admit that brainwashing those who were sensitive to magic was intriguing.

Helion stepped up to the railing, hands clasped behind his back, and looked out over his troops. He didn’t look down at his troops at all, instead looking out to the city. They didn’t matter to him, simply a means to an end, tools to right the wrongs that had been done to him. He sighed, took a deep breath, and delivered the speech he had prepared. His voice was deep yet clear and, unlike his footsteps coming here, was steady and measured. There was a quality to it that made people stop and want to listen to what he had to say. Ptal had to admit he had a talent. Helion ended his speech, his last few words echoing back to him off the stone of the noble houses. He dismissed the troops and retreated back into the safety of the palace.

“That was well done, m’lord,” Demarus said, once the trio had reached Helion’s war chamber. Helion was pacing back and forth across the room, his hands occupied with opening and closing the knife they held. He paused, a frown furrowing his brow.

“It won’t mean anything if we can’t find that damn city.” Helion spun and tossed the open knife. It flew through the air and embedded itself in the Hymarian realm of the map of Haidasha that hung on the wall.

Eight years have passed since Helion started his coup and overthrew the royal family. Eight years since he had wiped out the noble families. Eight years of hunting the magi to extinction. And yet, they still prevailed, most of them holed up in their hidden cities on the continent of Hymaria, which was difficult to reach let alone search. And this infuriated Helion.

Helion had been born to rule. He was descended from the first king of Haidasha, King Leidan. His father, Lord Trydon, was the first born of Lord Reinoy and Lady Merya of house Emaryian. While succession isn’t guaranteed to the eldest, most first borns end up ruling the kingdom after completing and succeeding the mystical test put forth by King Leidan and Lord Reishara when they came of age. Lord Trydon, however, failed at the test. Instead, it was his younger brother Lord Elarys who gained the right to rule after their father. Elarys, unlike Trydon, had been born gifted with magic and Helion long believed that his uncle had stolen the throne from his father through magical trickery. This led to Helion’s distrust and hatred of all magi, despite having also been born with magic.

Helion was born to rule, but that chance had been stolen from him. His father had married Kali, a girl he had met in a small town while he was touring the realm. While nobles were allowed to marry outside of nobility to prevent their bloodlines from thinning, those of royal birth were only allowed to marry someone from one of the noble houses. This had been put in place by King Leidan in order to keep peace between the realms. This made Helion, Kali’s only son, ineligible for the throne.

Lord Trydon tried to restore some of his honor and his place in the royal family by marrying Lady Sari. He sent his most trusted guards along to protect his first wife and his only son (age 6) by her and left them to live a comfortable life outside the palace, providing them with everything they could ever want and need, but he could not be with them. Kali was heartbroken. She contracted a mysterious illness which led to her death when Helion was 15. Helion held onto the belief that magi from his father’s family caused his mother’s illness in order to erase their humiliation.

Losing the rights to succession and being made a royal outcast, made Helion bitter and angry. He planned his vengeance carefully and thoroughly for three years. When he came of age when he would’ve been able to take the test of succession, he took most of his father’s guards and led an assault on the royal family. He killed everyone, including his twin half brothers and half sister. When he was done with the royal family, he moved onto the noble families and wiped them out as well. Once he had overthrown the monarchy and declared himself ruler he worked to make sure no one would be able to overthrow him. He sent out his men to gather sensitives and set up an institution where he had them trained and brainwashed into following him and hunting down the magi, the greatest threat to his rule.

That they still managed to persist after all that, angered Helion. The kingdom was in ruins and it couldn’t go back to normal, to the way he wanted it to be, until all the magi had been completely eradicated. Once the threat of the magi had been erased from the world, he would rebuild everything and there would be peace once more. If only he could just find where they were hiding.

Demarus watched his young lord helplessly. He and the other generals had watched him grow from a young boy, having been sent by his father, Lord Trydon, to keep his first love and his son safe. The two lived a comfortable but lonely life; the only family who visited them being Kali’s. Lady Kali was a gentle, soft-spoken woman who loved her son more than anything. She did everything she could to make her son happy, doting on him. When Lady Kali fell ill, the twelve generals were helpless to help her. And when their young lord spent years plotting his revenge, they could only swear to follow and protect him. Demarus watched Helion walk across the room to the window, the knife still stuck in the heart of Hymeria.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ptal closed the door to his chambers and let out a heavy sigh. “What are you doing here Seht? I thought you were supposed to find the homeworld.”

“I was. I did,” a voice answered as another man stepped out from the shadows. He was younger than Ptal by a couple of years, had ebony hair with strands of crimson streaked through it, and ice-blue eyes. Many of his features were similar to Ptal’s.

“So why are you here?” Ptal asked, turning to face him.

“I miscalculated, brother. I had her.”

Ptal raised a thin eyebrow. “Had?”

Seht sighed “Had.”

Ptal walked over to a chair near the ornate fireplace and sat down, motioning for Seht to sit across from him. Seht took the offered seat as Ptal turned his attention to the fireplace. He raised his hands toward the grate, his fingers forming a complicated series of glyphs. A fire leapt to life, lighting both men’s faces and bringing warmth to the chill room.

“Tell me everything.”

Seht launched into a retelling of how he found the homeworld of an ancient and extinct race of magic users that he had been charged to find. If Ptal’s talent was infiltration, Seht’s was finding lost or hidden things. He told Seht how he found and snuck into the only town on the planet and found the one they were looking for. His eyes glittered in amusement as he told Ptal about his battle with the child’s guardian and how he escaped with the child.

“It was so easy to catch her. It seems as though her powers aren’t yet fully awakened.” Seht boasted.

“And yet, she still managed to slip through your fingers,” Ptal commented, leaning back in his chair.

“Stupid dragons. For a creature that was supposed to be hunted to extinction, they proved to be highly problematic. I lost her as I tried to slip past them. I went back to search for her, but only managed to get burned for my troubles.” Seht rolled up his sleeve, a shiny still-healing burn discolored his upper arm. “I returned to the town a few days later in hopes of finding her again, but she had vanished. I interrogated one of the council members and learned that she had been sent off by some old man who I also could not find.”

“And so you came here and sought me out,” Ptal stated.

His brother sighed. To be honest, Seht wasn’t sure why he came here. Ptal couldn’t help him, yet he wasn’t ready to return to the Order and admit to failing just yet.

“What did she look like?” Ptal inquired. “At least tell me that so I can know what I am looking for.”

Seht opened his mouth to answer, paused, and frowned. “I...I don’t remember…,” the frown deepened.

“Interesting,” Ptal said absently. Seht had an incredible mind when it came to details, which is why he was so good at finding things others wished to hide. For him to forget something so important, “someone is protecting her.”

“Not anymore. I killed her guardian, unless you think the old man is protecting her. From what I learned, he barely has any magic.”

Ptal shook his head. “No, brother. Someone more powerful.”

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

Poet's note: Just a random poem I found in my drafts about how I feel when I can't remember my past. Might play around with this one more later.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

To the boy I liked in high school: an asexual story

To the boy I liked in high school,

/

You asked me once

why we never dated.

I didn’t have the words to explain

how I liked you, but not in that way,

they didn’t exist back then.

I didn’t have the language to explain to either of us

what my feelings actually were.

/

I liked you in the way I like a warm spring day

where the sun shines down on me

making me feel calm and at peace within myself,

like the way I like a gentle rain

that washes away all worries and fears.

I liked you for the way you made me feel,

for the pitter patter of my heart as it leapt in joy,

for the safe, accepted embrace.

I liked you in an innocent, selfish way

because no one had ever made me feel the way you did.

I was happy existing within that state.

/

I thought that was what a crush was

but now, I'm not so sure.

Even now, I’m not sure what to call it?

Maybe that’s what puppy love is,

though I hesitate to call what I felt as love.

I couldn’t like you more than this,

I’m not sure I’m even capable of loving anyone more.

I wasn’t like most girls,

especially when it came to how I felt about boys.

Back then, I felt incomplete,

like a wire in my brain was left unconnected

but you made me feel special

without the expectation for more.

I liked you as much as I was capable.

/

You asked me once

why we never dated

I couldn’t explain it back then,

but now I hope these words help you understand.

I liked you, but I could not like you that way.

/

Sincerely,

~Asexuality

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

You have to wake up

**Author's note: this is an unfinished scene I started writing for my novel series. The grass tickled Kaida’s hands and face as it gently swayed with the slight, cool breeze. She sensed movement nearby and a shadow fell across her face. Kaida opened her eyes. Koichi stood over her, a bright blue sky with a scattering of wispy white clouds floated by behind him. Kaida watched the breeze playfully tousle his black hair.

“What are you doing?” he asked her.

She patted the grass nearby. “Join me.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head with a sigh, a hint of a smile tugging at lips. He took a few steps and laid down in the grass near her. They lay there in silence for a while, watching the clouds lazily drift across the darkening sky. Kaida turned her head to look at Koichi and found him sitting up and looking down at her, studying her.

“What are you doing here, Sakura-sama?” he asked her, a frown creasing his forehead; worry darkening his eyes. She didn’t answer.

“You know this isn’t real,” he continued.

Kaida sighed and pulled herself up into a sitting position. “I know,” she whispered, not looking at him.

“You have to wake up.”

Kaida shook her head, still not looking at him. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving this place, of leaving him. Koichi reached out and turned her to face him.

“That pain in your chest that you’re feeling, that’s not heartache,” he said, looking serious. Kaida shivered; the pain becoming more pronounced, a sharp burning sensation just under her collarbone.

“That chill,” he continued, “that’s not the wind. And the darkening of the sky, that’s not night approaching.”

Tears burned in Kaida’s eyes and Koichi reached out to wipe a stray one that rolled down her cheek. Kaida reached up and held his hand to her cheek, closing her eyes.

“You have to wake up, Sakura-sama. You’re dying,” he said urgently.

“I don’t care,” she said softly around the lump in her throat.

“Your friends need you,” he continued.

“I don’t-” she stopped, unable to finish the sentence for it would have been a lie; as much as she wanted to not care so she could just stay here, with him. She opened her eyes and looked at Koichi’s face. “Why is it that everytime I see you, you’re making me say goodbye?”

“I’m always here.”

Kaida looked into Koichi’s golden brown eyes. They were both just as she remembered and yet not the same; a ghost of the man she knew stared back at her with all the love she had never realized while he was alive. “No. You’re not…” she whispered, letting go of his hand.

Koichi smiled at her sadly and leaned in close to her. “I love you.” he whispered in her ear. “Please, wake up.”

Kaida closed her eyes, tears finally escaping her control.

“I-”

Kaida opened her eyes and took a shaky, painful breath, a tear traced a hot path toward her ear. She lay on her back, looking up at a dim sky of rain-leadened clouds. A dull, burning pain radiated from a spot near her right shoulder, just below her collarbone. She was cold and her body felt heavy. Her mind was sluggish and her eyesight was blurred, struggling to focus and dim around the edges. The smell of blood was strong in the air. Slowly, she became aware of the sounds of fighting nearby. She took another shaky, pained breath and slowly rolled onto her left side and pushed herself up onto her knees. Pain exploded through her body from wounds reawakened by the movement. She gritted her teeth, trying to focus on her breathing instead of the fire and nausea that threatened to consume her and sent her back into unconsciousness. She forced her left hand up and grasped the hilt of the knife sticking out of her right shoulder joint. Stealing herself, she pulled it free, a cry of pain escaping her as warm blood flowed down her arm and darkness dimmed her vision.

“Well, well, well,” a voice spoke from in front of Kaida. She shifted her arm slightly to try and hide the knife from view. The voice came closer and Kaida looked up. Alatar’s face went in and out of focus as he reached down and grasped Kaida’s shirt, lifting her off the ground. She winced and tried to force her mind to focus. Dimly, as though from a great distance, she heard someone call her name in alarm.

“Look at you, barely hanging onto life. It’s a pity you chose to side against me.”

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

My Beautiful Baby Girl

I still remember the day we first met,

The day we brought you home,

And the day we adopted you.

Practically a life time has passed since then,

But I can still remember.

 /

Such a tiny thing you were!

I could fit you in my pocket

And would put you in my hood

And when it came to rides to the vet,

I had a small backpack for you to hide in.

 /

But let’s face it,

You were such a brat

With an attitude to match,

But I spoiled you (and still do)

Scrambled eggs, oatmeal, turkey, chicken,

Ham, cheese, tuna, crab, shrimp…

Yeah, you soon became a fatty.

I had fallen for golden eyes

And a tortoiseshell coat.

 /

We saw each other grow

And moved three times,

But you were always there for me

Especially when I would break,

A constant companion that I could rely on

When it felt like I had no one else

You saw me through every stage of my life.

 /

I’ll never forget the day

You first showed signs of a failing health

Already an age we never thought you’d see

Due to a chronic breathing problem

But still…

 /

That was the first day

I feared losing you

Suddenly it seems that we had lost time

And there wasn’t enough of it left

And I wondered if I would ever be able

To handle a single day without you.

 /

But you weren’t ready to call it quits

And we made it through a few years more

And the fears and thoughts I’d had then

Faded with the passing of time…

Time,

What a cruel concept

Nothing can stop its passing

And eventually all things come to an end…

 /

Age, it seems,

May have finally caught up to you

And already I can feel my world splintering

And my heart start to break.

Every day I fear to leave

And every day I fear to come home

Will today be the day?

/

In this world of impermanent things,

Life is the most impermanent

And yet the hardest to accept as such.

I’m not ready to say goodbye

And I don’t think I ever will be.

This is the reason parents aren’t meant

To outlive their children.

 /

I can’t help but think of all the things I will miss:

The way you wake me in the morning,

The way you sometimes sleep

With your head laying on mine,

Your insistence on purring in my ear,

Your sandpaper kisses,

Your weight in my lap,

The way you love to cuddle under the covers at night,

Your need for attention when I cry,

Your thievery of my beanie babies,

All those little things that make you

My beautiful baby girl.

 /

But that was yesterday,

Today…

Today I made the hardest decision

And said goodbye

And just like that

You were gone.

It’s hard to think that I will be making

The biggest transition in life

Without you.

I love you, forever and always

And you will always be

My beautiful baby girl. *Writer’s note: I wrote this 5 years ago today, the day I had to make the hardest decision of my life and say good-bye to my sweet baby girl, Patches. I want to rework this and polish it some, maybe write another one from 5 years later, but not today. Today, I remember and allow myself to feel the loss of her absence.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

My latest piece: “This was me”

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

Momentary Relapse into Darkness

Curled up in the impression

Upon within the carpet 

In the shape of me

My body trembling from the

Cold spreading from my soul,

From the pain radiating from this skin

Holding me to this existence

Of building hope and

Crushing disappointment.

/

I’ve been here before.

/

I write the lines of a painfully

Beating heart, the tip of my pen

Dipped into the puddles of

Blood that slowly seeps from my cracks;

Stanzas breaking with each

Broken part of who I was,

Who I wanted to be.

/

I’ve bled these words before.

/

No.

I'm not ready to give up

There's still a fire burning

Deep in my soul,

Just

Just let me live here

Like this for a time

I

Just

Need

A respite 

From the constant battles,

The struggle that never ends.

/

It's tiring to be your own hero.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

A “Choice”

I held the small speck of light

in hands bruised and calloused

from years of dead end work. 

I held it close, felt its warmth

soak through my skin and infuse my soul.

I felt the chains weighing down my 

small and frail body loosen

and for once, I could breathe again.

/

I never should have shown them.

/

They came and pulled the speck

from my hands.

I tried to hold onto it with all my might

but years of abuse left me weakened.

Bruised, beaten, and bleeding

I lay upon the ground,

watching as they lined up

everything the spark had brought me;

all the things that had brought me

joy, relief, hope.

They took the light from my hands

and replaced it with a gun.

/

Then they told me to make a choice.

/

The choice:

How much did I want to lose?

I had a choice, they told me

as they tied my hands with necessity:

I could have all the things I wanted, 

all the things I worked so hard for-

my dreams, my happiness, my hopes-

or I could feed, clothe, and shelter myself.

/

My choice.

/

Tears streamed down my face,

my hands trembled, 

their voices whispering in my ears,

rope cutting into my skin.

I lifted my heavy hands

closed my eyes

And pulled the trigger.

/

I felt the bullet tear into my flesh…

/

felt it embed itself deep into my heart,

the toxic casing already slowly starting

to poison me.

My soul in shock,

I couldn’t feel the blood

spilling out of my body

or the warmth slowly starting to fade

from my skin.

/

And then everything went black.

/

When I came to

I could barely remember the warmth

that had infused my soul,

could barely remember the incandescence 

of the speck of light as it shown in my hands,

could barely remember….

The hole in my chest was gone, 

stitched up as though it had never happened,

but I knew

I had killed a part of myself,

and I realized they could never be at fault 

After all, they had given me a choice

/

It was I who pulled the trigger.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

On the Other Side

Brian awoke and found himself surrounded by darkness. At first he could not remember what had happened, he just had the vague recollection of a dream or maybe it was a nightmare. He couldn’t quite remember, but something told him that it was important. So he concentrated and tried to remember what he had dreamed. Slowly, it started to come back to him. He remembered hanging out with Ethan...wait...was that part of the dream or...didn’t Ethan actually come visit him? Brian honestly couldn’t recall if that was part of the dream or real life. He tried to remember more. He remembered feeling like something was off, that someone was watching him, but he couldn’t remember anything else.

Brian sat up or at least he would have if he had actually been laying down on something. Instead he realized that he had been floating weightless in the darkness. He glanced around, his heart pounding. Where was he? The darkness around him wasn’t impenetrable, but there also wasn’t anything to see. He also realized that it wasn’t exactly still either. The darkness shifted as though it was merely a mist wafting in a light breeze. Then, in the place Brian hadn't thought existed, something clicked. He recognized this darkness. It was a darkness he had thought only existed in his deep recesses of his dreams. So, was he dreaming? Brian felt a gentle tug. Frowning and not really knowing what else to do, he followed the tug into the darkness. As he wandered, the darkness around him began to subside a little until it looked like it was lit by a fading sun or a candle flame without the flicker and then he stood before a border. He reached out a hand and felt a subtle resistance as it passed through. Brian followed his hand through the border and out into the light, a gentle breeze pulling at the stray strands of his hair. He looked around, but there wasn’t anything to see. Brian turned and looked back at the shifting, impenetrable darkness. He knew this place, had been here before, had stood right here. That was impossible. It wasn't true. It couldn’t be. This was wrong and yet he felt that he had been staring at this darkness for a long time.

A throbbing starting at his temples, Brian turned back around and found that he was looking at a room. There was a chair, sound-proofing foam on the wall, and against the wall was a pile of stuff. He saw an anime waifu body pillow, an Eevee, Gir, and...wait a minute. This was his room. As he watched, he saw himself walk over to the chair and sit down. The him in the room started doing something, but Brian couldn’t tell what it was from where he was. Brian realized that something wasn't right. There was something about the angle at which he watched the other him, something was wrong. He watched intently, trying to figure it out when suddenly, it hit him. He was looking at the other him from the same place and angle of his computer.

Brian suddenly felt as though he couldn’t breathe. What...what did this all mean? he wondered, the pressure in his head increasing. He backed away from the image before him and felt the slight resistance of the darkness behind him. He felt dizzy. Everything was starting to feel wrong with Brian and it was all in his mind. It had to be. Slowly, he looked back at the image of himself sitting at the computer and then it happened. The him in the image flickered at the edges, like a corrupted computer file. 

 And then, he remembered everything. 

“Glitch…?” he whispered. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Glitch sat in front of the computer, the same computer through which he had tried to reach Brian. It was time to get to work, time to reach out to the community, to fix everything. He moved the mouse to the left side.

He started to get ready for a stream when something cold brushed against his arm. Glitch turned to look but there was nothing there. A chill ran down his spine as he slowly turned back to the computer. Nothing had changed. Glitch breathed a sigh of relief. He had thought…no. He shook his head. No, he wouldn’t think the other one’s name, wouldn’t five him the opening. He turned his attention back to setting up, opening up the programs he needed and making sure everything was working the way it should. He went in and changed the title of the stream and changed the category to “just chatting.” Soon, he was ready. He moved the mouse across the screen to the “start stream” button, but then his hand froze just shy of the button. Something was preventing him from moving it any further, something cold that felt as though it was grasping his hand. Glitch stared down at it and watched the hair on his arm slowly stand.

“Brian…” he whispered. The name came out in a puff of vapor.

The computer screen went black with a soft pop, making Glitch start. He slowly looked back up from his hand to look at the screen.

I’M STILL HERE typed itself out in bold white letters across the black screen before they vanished the the computer died completely.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

Let Go

Author’s note: this story was written with inspiration from the Text Synth charity stream.

Glitch stared at the mirror. The face of the other one, of Brian, had faded some time ago, leaving only his own black-eyed, occasionally glitching reflection staring back at him. He sighed. This wasn’t what he had wanted, but Brian had failed him. Glitch had tried to reach out to Brian, to communicate with him, but Brian had ignored him and had left him with no other choice. 

Glitch turned to leave the bathroom when a slight ringing started in his ears. It increased in intensity until it became almost unbearable. Glitch clutched his head and turned back to the mirror. His reflection wavered.

“Stop Brian,” he whispered in pain. “Please, you can’t go on like this.”

A tingling spread across his skin as Glitch slowly stumbled back to the mirror. He hunched over the sink, his hands tightly gripping either side of the counter top, gritting his teeth. His hands glitched worse than normal. A soft banging made Glitch look up. Brian looked back at him, desperately banging on the inside of the mirror.

“Glitch, you can’t do this!” Brian’s voice was muffled.

“You had your chance, Brian. Now it’s my turn.”

The tingling intensified, feeling like electricity stinging his skin. He could almost feel his form wavering, his entire body shifting and twisting. Glitch couldn’t see, he couldn’t move, and he was close to collapsing. It took everything he had to focus hold on. He pulled strength from the knowledge that the community had called for him, needed him.

“Brian…,” he whispered. “Just…let...go…!”

The ringing started to fade and Glitch felt his form start to restabilize. He took a couple of deep breaths. A muted crack made Glitch look up. A crack spider webbed across the middle left side of the mirror. Brian was gone, but Glitch feared he would try again. Exhausted from the mental battle, Glitch shuffled out of the bathroom and collapsed on the bed. He sighed.

“Things will be better, Brian, you will see. I will fix everything.”

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

The Nocturne Clock

Most people can say how long day and night are, in generalized terms. Few can tell just how long the night actually lasts. The more cruel a person’s fate, the more precisely they know. I know the exact second the night begins, the exact second it ends, and every second in between. However, I cannot tell someone how long the day lasts. It’s just a moment that passes in a heartbeat, a heartbeat that beats pain free for just that short reoccurring moment, those daytime hours that I never saw you in. But the night? That’s where you are and all I can do is count the continuous seconds that stretch between zero and daybreak. I count them like I once counted “I love yous,” the kisses on my forehead, and the seconds between goodbye and hello. We said goodbye that last time with the promise of hello and now, I count the seconds until the hello that will never come, only taking a break for those heartbeat moments where I don’t have to think of you.

How much time did we have? How many seconds did we miss out on in the hours that follow the rising of the sun until it sets? How many did we lose? Was it worth it? All those hours apart, our daytime jobs keeping us separate. These same hours are now my solace – you aren’t here in these daylit moments, and you never were.

After all those “how are yous” that followed those beautiful hellos in which I answered “fine” with a smile, I now wait for just one more. One more “hello” followed by one more “how are you” so I can admit, just this once, that I am not fine. I want to tell you that I’m not okay just to feel your warm arms around my night chilled shoulders, to hear your velvet voice whisper into my hair “shh, you will be. I’m here now.” But I won’t, because even though you’re here in the night, you cannot ask me how I am, or wrap your arms around me, or tell me that I’ll be okay. You just stand there in your faded blue jeans, unbuttoned black and white plaid shirt with a white t-shirt underneath, and black sneakers, your hair slightly tousled from running your fingers through it. You smile at me for those long seconds of night, those seemingly endless seconds between zero and daybreak. Those same long seconds that came so fast between that smile at the street corner and that last breath before the car hit you. I’m glad the night only lasts those seconds, drawn out over those long hours and that daybreak comes at the precise moment the headlights lit your face.

It’s been two months, thirteen days, thirty-nine minutes, and eighteen seconds worth of nights since the first and they have only been getting longer. Last night was nine hours, sixteen minutes, and twenty-six seconds long. That’s 33,386 seconds of your smiling face. 33,386 seconds of heartbeats bleeding sub-freezing flames. 33,386 seconds of my body shaking with every lung-searing sob torn from it as my tears flood the pavement below. 33,386 seconds of “I miss you.” How long will tonight be? I cannot say yet, but ask me again tomorrow. I’ll have the exact number. I’ll be here until the sun comes back. Here, on this corner where we missed that hello.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

Untitled

The softest scent of sun-kissed bamboo

mixed with the bitter sweetness

of freshly brewed green tea

wafts through my mind and conjures

up eyes the color of green-tinted hojicha

and I am taken back to days spent in the mountains

where dried sakura could be found everywhere

and the wind would softly whisper your name.

/

I find myself lying on the damp grass

staring into the inky blackness studded with stars

and I can feel your warmth next to me

and I am whole again.

Is it any wonder

why I long to sleep forever

dreaming only of you?

/

But dreams are fleeting, fragile creatures

and give way to blood-soaked nightmares

where the air is foul and filled

with the clashing of steel and the screams of dying men

but still that soft scent

of sun-kissed bamboo and bittersweet green tea lingers

and a chill wind brings with it

your pain-filled voice whispering my name.

/

I awake in the darkness

a cold sweat coating my skin,

seeping through the deep cracks

to find new residence in my soul.

Is it any wonder

why I fight to stay awake

for days on end?

/

A tea cup 

that someone dropped, shattered.

I tried to put myself back together

but you were the gold I once used to repair my cracks

and now there’s even a piece missing,

a ragged, throbbing wound

hollow and empty where something important once was

but this poor, broken cup

can still hold some tea

just not enough to drink from.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

In Control

Light green leaves, just starting to unfold from their spring buds covered the trees on either side of the busy New York street. A breeze still clinging to winter’s chill rustled through the branches causing Brian and Ethan to hunch their shoulders. They had been talking non-stop for a while and had paused in their conversation for a moment.

“Dude, I’m so glad we could finally get together. It’s been way too long,” Brian said.

“I know! 2020 really was a trip,” Ethan agreed.

Brian nodded in silence. It really had been a crazy year. With the pandemic going on, the two of them hadn’t been able to hang out like they had wanted to. Plus Ethan had been working on Unus Annus and Brian had been busy with sponsors and voice acting, which had been his dream. Not to mention all the crazy shit that was happening all over the world. 

The two of them continued down the sidewalk, goofing off and simply enjoying each others’ company. As they walked though, something caught Brian’s attention out of the corner of his eye. He could have sworn he had seen his reflection do something on it’s own. He glanced over at the shop window, but there was nothing abnormal about it. Brian frowned and shrugged it off. It was probably just a trick of the light or another reflection from someone across the street or something. What Brian didn’t notice was that his shadow on the sidewalk behind him looked distorted, like a computer glitch. 

Brian and Ethan talked about the projects they were currently working on and things they were hoping to work on soon, but Brian couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Occasionally, he would think he saw his reflection out of the corner of his eye and it would look off, like it was glitching or turning to look at him, but every time Brian would turn to look, it was normal. 

“You okay, man?” Ethan asked, noticing that his friend was distracted.

“Y-yeah. Just thought I saw something.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

The two of them resumed their walk. Ethan prattled on about something he was working on, but Brian wasn’t paying much attention. He still couldn’t shake that feeling that something was there. Watching them, watching him. 

“Hey, Ethan.”

“Yeah, Brian.”

“This is going to sound kind of weird, but can you, like, look at my reflection for me?”

Ethan frowned at Brian. It was a very odd request, but he could see that his friend seemed a bit nervous about something.

“Yeah, sure man.”

Ethan turned to look at Brian’s reflection in the shop window. 

“When are you going to stop playing around?” Ethan asked the reflection, his voice suddenly deeper and slightly distorted.

“Ethan?”

“You’ve waited all this time for the power to finally escape and you’ve just been toying around with him. When are you going to just take over?”

“Hey, uh, Ethan?”

Brian reached out to his friend, grabbed his shoulder, and turned him to face him. Ethan’s eyes were completely black. Brian jumped back away from his friend and looked over at the shop mirror. His reflection smiled back at him, it’s eyes black with a glint of green shining from within. 

Brian, his eyes wide, turned and ran, laughter ringing in his ears. When Brian found himself short of breath, he realized that the laughter was coming from him. He turned a corner and-

Brian jolted upright in bed, a cold sweat covering his body. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. It was just a dream, but it had felt so real. Brian rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom to toss cold water on his face. He dried off and stood up to look in the mirror to find that he was actually looking out through the mirror and there, on the other side, standing in his bathroom, was his reflection, eyes completely black. Desperately, Brian banged on the inside of the mirror.

“It’s no use, Brian. I’m in control now,” Glitch said, a mischievous smile growing on his face. “It’s my turn.”

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Unus Annus. Unus Annus.

For three hundred and sixty-five days, millions watched as Mark and Ethan challenged the world to remember that time is limited, to make the most of the time they had left, to make every second count. For three hundred and sixty-five days, we lived by the ticking of the clock as it counted down to the inevitable end of the channel and we all found ourselves wondering if we really made the most of our time together.

At first, a year seemed so long. Three hundred sixty-five is a lot of days. Things started out light-hearted enough and we kept up with the daily videos with relevant ease for the most part and if we couldn't, there was no pressure. There was still plenty of time. We laughed at their antics.We listened to the ticking of the clock like it was a heartbeat, the heartbeat of a newborn child with so much time ahead of it. We chanted along with “Unus Annus” until the words seemed to lose meaning, forgetting that they were always meant to be a warning.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock kept ticking. Mark and Ethan began to challenge us. We were challenged to learn something new, write a song for the Barrel, to get fit, to build a fort of pillows, to learn the secret handshake, to make latte art, and so many more. We played along for the fun, to be part of something that would truly be once in a lifetime. We wanted to say that we were there and we were part of it. But life also got tough as quarantine hit and many of us found ourselves struggling. And Unus Annus took on a different role in our lives. It helped us track the days, helped give us a reason to keep getting up and keep doing things. We started to rely on the channel, Mark, and Ethan to keep our spirits up. It was okay. They weren’t going anywhere. There was still so much time left.

Tick tick tick.

Halfway through the year, Mark and Ethan reminded us that time was running out, that only six months were left. And still we didn’t listen. Six months is still plenty of time. There was still so much time left. Quarantine lifted and things returned to normal. 

One hundred days to go and again they came to remind us that time was running out. They asked if we have been making the most of our time, if we were going to still make the most of what we had left. We started to wonder if we had, probably even started to wonder what we even remembered of the videos. There had been a lot of them. But a hundred is still a lot of days. Plenty of time to go back and rewatch the ones that had gotten fuzzy. There was still...

Tick tick tick.

And then it happened. Suddenly the days left were coming to an end. Those of us who had found ourselves behind now found ourselves scrambling to catch up. Others found that there were somehow videos they had missed. The ticking of the clock that once filled us with so much hope left us scrambling, hoping for more time. It couldn’t be the end yet, could it? A year couldn’t be up this soon just yet. 

Tick tick tick.

The clock continued as it always had, that steady march toward the end, but now it seemed to take on a more sinister tone. Each tick of the clock in real life, a constant reminder that time was running out. That time had always been running out. Two weeks left. One week. Three days. There just wasn’t enough time left! But that, of course was always the case. In the span of three hundred and sixty-five days we had somehow forgotten that time was always running out. Not just for the channel, but for us as well. We the viewers, the community, we each have our own clock ticking away the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days, the years. Have we made the most of our time? Will we take the lessons Unus Annus strove to teach us and strive to make the most of the time we still have? Will we head the warning this time?

After all, this was all meant to challenge us. From the very beginning they were trying to remind us that time was finite. That we all have only so much time, but unlike the channel, we cannot know how much time we have. 

Tick tick tick.

The clock counts down ever closer to the end. Millions watch as it ticks ever closer to 00:00:00:00. It marches closer and closer. Millions around the world collectively hold their breath, their hearts pounding in their chests, hoping against hope that the clock will stop before, that it will never end. Even as they know that it must. Then it happens. The clock stops and there is no more time left. A silence falls over the world as the channel passes into the past, into memories. They mourn for a while and wonder what they will do next, but the channel stays with them, the meaning behind it, the challenge, the reminder, the warning. The channel’s time may have come, but the community lives on. What will they make in their time that they have left? Somewhere, Unus and Annus look on and hope that each and every one of them will heed them and that they will go forth and do great things, making the most of each and every moment they have left.

Tick tick tick.

Memento mori.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

My First Spectral Visitor

The following story is one that I have carried around with me since I was pretty young. I don’t remember how old I was exactly, just that I was probably in fourth or fifth grade. At the time, the five of us (my parents and my two younger brothers) lived in a single-wide trailer in a trailer park that no longer exists. It technically only had two rooms, but my parents turned what I believe was a dining room area into a small third bedroom. I, for some reason, resided in the second bedroom while both of my brothers were crammed in the smaller bedroom. The room was at the opposite end of the trailer of my parents’ bedroom with the makeshift room almost halfway between the two. It was rectangular with the bed on one end of the room facing the door to the hallway longways, a window closer to the bed than the other end, and a closet that was probably almost big enough to be considered a walk-in closet, or at least to a child it was. This room is where it all started.

There were moments as I grew older, when I would look back on this summer night and wonder how much of it really happened and how much of it was simply the overactive imaginings of a child. I can recall everything so vividly. What happened a few days later, though, I still to this day cannot explain and while some of what happened that day I can say for certain happened, there are parts that I cannot be completely sure of. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A soft, gentle beam of silvered moonlight danced across the bare floor, adding just a hint of light to the otherwise dark room, enhancing the shadows instead of dispelling them. There were nights I had pulled my blankets and pillows onto the floor to fall asleep in that patch of moonlight. But tonight I, for some reason, lay in my bed, nestled in my blankets, wide awake. I cannot say what woke me, but I now found myself staring up at the ugly, slightly stained, popcorn ceiling trying to avoid looking at the deep shadows that pulled at my imagination.

The house was quiet except for the occasional creak of a bed as someone turned in their sleep down the hall and the consistent soft ticking of the clock on the wall near my door at the end of my bed. I counted the seconds as they passed until my eyelids started to feel heavy and my mind started to drift. Subconsciously, I pulled my comforter up to cover by bare shoulders as a chill crept into the room. 

Suddenly, a gently rattling came from the far end of the room where the closet stood. I can’t quite explain the feeling I had about that closet. It was fine during the day. There were many times I would often set up a little reading nook inside with a pillow, some blankets, a flashlight, and whatever book I was reading and have a nice, cozy, quiet space where no one could find me and bug me. The closet was a decent size stretching from wall to wall with enough room to almost probably be considered a walk-in closet. However, at night, it gave off a different vibe all together. I could never explain why, but the dee cavernous darkness that resided within that space unsettled me. Every night, I made sure the doors were shut tight and I never slept with my back to it. 

Reluctantly, my heart pounding in my chest, I turned my head to look across the room at the closet, my eyes trying to see through the darkness and past the moonlit moats of dust to see what was causing the sound. There was nothing there and the rattling stopped. I lay still, waiting. My ears straining to hear any other unusual sounds. The room was quiet again. The only sound, once again, was the ticking of the clock and a soft snore that came from my parent’s room at the other end of the trailer. I relaxed muscled I hadn’t realized I had tensed and released the breath I had been holding. I rolled onto my side and kept my eyes on the closet. Eventually, my eyelids began to droop and the edges of my vision started to darken. I blinked slowly as sleep pulled at my body. 

Just as I was about to give into the embrace of sleep, I thought I saw some kind of movement across the room. I ignored it, thinking it was probably just the cat probably going into or out of the litter box that was over there. I let my eyes close, turning my face into my pillow a little to protect it from the chill and curled deeper into my blankets. The gentle pressure of cat paws moving from somewhere near my feet to the edge of the bed and then were gone. I could hear the soft pattering as she left the room. I briefly wondered when she had jumped onto the bed when something, again, made me open my eyes. A pale, wispy light seeped through the still closed closet doors just before a figure followed suit. As I watched he slowly walked across the empty space of my room. I couldn’t make out a lot of details, but could see that he had short hair and seemed to be wearing a suit and I could see right through him. Terrified, I could only watch his progress as he moved closer and closer to the foot of my bed. There, he stopped, turned slowly, and stared right at me.  I could no longer hear the ticking of the clock over the pounding of my heart and my breath was frozen in my lungs. I don’t know how long he stood there, staring at me, it seemed to last only a couple of seconds but also stretch through the minutes. In any case, he eventually turned and continued to walk. Straight through the wall. 

I don’t know how long it took me to finally fall asleep after that, but eventually I must have because I awoke the next morning curled up around my cat and with what had happened oddly fresh in my mind. 

This incident stayed with me as the days passed, though I never talked about it with anyone. Not even my parents. Until one day, we were given an assignment to write a story for class. I don’t remember what exactly the criteria for the story was, but I had decided that I was going to tell the story about my visit. So, I sat myself down at the kitchen table across from the window and started writing. As I wrote, I distinctly remember a chill run through my body as it does now as I write this. I got a couple of paragraphs finished when I heard a light tap tap tapping on the metal awning that hung over the window. I paused and the tapping stopped. I dismissed it as probably a bird and got back to work. A few sentences later and the tapping started again. I paused and looked at the window again and the tapping stopped. After the third time, I put my pencil down, stood up, and went through the living room to go outside. I walked around the end of the trailer, past my parent’s bedroom, and toward the kitchen window. Looking up, I saw nothing on the awning. I frowned. Of course, I didn’t expect to find anything. As I started to turn back around to head back inside, I looked down at the grass under the window and saw that the grass had been trampled in the shape of two feet facing the trailer. I paused and looked around, but there were no other footprints in the grass. Just the two. Right under the window. And I felt as though someone was watching me even though no one was around and the trailer next door was empty. I turned, raced back inside the trailer, crumpled up my story, and tossed it into the trash.

I don’t remember what I wrote for the assignment instead, but I never once tried to write about my visitor again until now. I never saw the man again. 

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

Never Give Up (an Unus Annus challenge)

Author’s note: So, I just want to premise this a little bit. In the Unus Annus video titled: “All our videos that never happened” posted on 11/5/2020 about a week before the channel’s end, Mark and Ethan talked about all the ideas that they had for the channel that they weren’t able to do. One of those ideas was a 1-hour movie where they would write a script in an hour and then film it in an hour. The challenge interested me so I set out to see if I could actually write a script in an hour. I took some time beforehand to plan a general idea, but the script itself was written in just 1-hour. I also had some restrictions as, when I mentioned wanting to do this members of one of my communities (Girbeagly’s) wanted to be part of it, so I decided that the script should fall within community rules which made things a bit more challenging, but then that was kind of the point of the exercise. Anywho, this is what I wrote:

Characters:

            RAE (the main character):

            OPPORTUNITY (the spirit of what was):

            POTENTIAL (the spirit of what could have been):

            HOPE (the spirit of what could be):

            ALEX (significant other):

 Black screen:

 RAE (V.O.)

You ever have that one thing that you just want to do, that you have to do? A dream? A passion? Or whatever you want to call it? It seems everyone does. Including me. Unfortunately. They say that when opportunity knocks, you should just go for it. But what if opportunity knocks for the wrong person? What if you’re not actually good at it? Or what if you are, but you fail to make it into anything worthwhile? What if… (sigh).

 Cut to:

 Int-suburban home-bedroom

 RAE is standing in front of a mirror talking to themself with a binder in their hand.

 RAE

(deep breath)

Okay Rae, you can do this. You are going to go in there with your idea. You’re going to present it clearly and confidently. And they are going to like it. You. Can. Do. This. …This time…

 (a pause)

Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t do this. I can’t go in there.

 RAE crosses over to the bed and collapses on it. The binder slips from their hand.

 RAE

I’m never going to be able to do it.

 Suddenly a cold draft moves through the room. RAE shudders, looks over at the closed window and frowns. They look around the room, but nothing has changed. They shake their head and lay back on the bed.

 POTENTIAL (V.O.)

How many times are you going to go through this same old song and dance?

 RAE jolts back upright on the bed and looks around confused.

 RAE

Hello? Who…who’s there?

 POTENTIAL (V.O.) (ignoring the questions)

Every month or so you stand in front of that mirror and try to talk yourself into actually taking your life into your own hands and then you cave and go back to the same old same old. When are you actually going to just go do it? How many more opportunities are you going to just let slip through your fingers?

 RAE stands up and walks around the room looking for the source of the voice.

 RAE

It…it’s not exactly that easy.

 OPPORTUNITY (V.O.)

But it is that easy. Or at least, it used to be. You have had many chances and even once practically had the opportunity just handed to you.

 RAE (still looking around)

 Yeah, and look at the disaster that turned out to be.

 OPPORTUNITY (V.O.)

That wasn’t your fault. You did everything right. They messed everything up.

 RAE gives up looking for the voices.

 RAE (softly)

That’s not true.

 POTENTIAL (V.O.)

You’re right. It’s not true. Sure, you had a good idea. Yeah, someone else took it and messed things up. But you, you just let it happen and then you continued to let it happen by not trying again. Do you not realize where you could be right now?

 OPPORTUNITY (V.O.)

Life gave you a chance, more than one in fact, and you just let them pass you by. Why? Because you didn’t want to fail. Again. Even though technically you didn’t fail the first time. You just let them place all the blame on you and then you gave up.

 RAE

No. I-

 POTENTIAL (V.O.)

You went to the conferences. Eventually. People wanted to talk to you, tried to talk to you. People wanted to hear about projects you might have been working on. Wanted to try and work with you.

 OPPORTUNITY (V.O.)

And you let them all pass you by.

 RAE

Maybe I’m just not good enough. Sure, maybe they liked what I wrote back then. But that was then. Maybe I’m just not that good anymore.

 HOPE (V.O.)

How will you know if you don’t try?

 RAE

I did try. I tried and I failed. They didn’t like my last script that I presented or the one after. Maybe I only had that one good one in me and when that was taken from me, I lost it.

 HOPE (V.O.)

You don’t just lose something like that. Do you really think you have nothing left to offer?

 RAE

Yes. …No…maybe… I don’t know.

 HOPE (V.O.)

And you won’t unless you actually try.

 RAE looks over at the mirror at themself.

 HOPE (V.O.)

One failure doesn’t define a person or their talent. One missed opportunity isn’t the end of the world. There is always tomorrow, always a chance to try again. You just have to make the decision to take it.

 RAE looks down at the binder on the floor.

 HOPE (V.O.)

Do you really think you have nothing left to offer?

 RAE

I…I guess it’s time I find out.

 A knock sounds at the door causing RAE to jump.

 ALEX (V.O.)

Hey. Are you up? You want some breakfast before you go to your meeting?

 RAE

Yeah. I’ll be down in a minute. I just gotta grab something.

 RAE walks over to the binder, looks at it for a moment, and then bends down to pick it up.

 RAE (to themself)

I’m going to go in there. I’m going to present my idea and my script. And I’m going to see this through.

 Fade out.

[koryuusei-writing-portfolio]

Beyond the Veil

Corey: [Corey quietly stares at the shoes on her feet for a moment] These are not my shoes. They’re Dakota’s. I guess it doesn’t really matter now though, does it? It’s not like I can return them now. Though, I don’t think Dakota’s really worrying about her shoes at this point anyway. It’s weird – thinking about these things that don’t really matter anymore, like these shoes. I’ve always liked these shoes, I liked a lot of Dakota’s things. She has good tastes and her parents aren’t as uptight as mine are.

Dakota and I had been best friends since eighth grade. She is loud, sassy, and bold and I love her. When I’d met her I was quiet, sarcastic, and empty. If it hadn’t been for teacher-paired chemistry labs, we probably would’ve never met. Things would be a lot different now too… Dakota pulled me out of myself and showed me a world worth caring about, a world worth living in. We became quite a pair. I became her voice of reason and she encouraged me to be more adventurous.

I’m kind of sad that Dakota hasn’t come by to see me, but I can only imagine what this has done to her. I can only hope that she isn’t beating herself up. Of course she is. Dakota was always trying to take me out of my comfort zone and apologizing if things went wrong. She always thought it was her fault, even when I would try to tell her that I shared in the blame. Most of the time, the consequences of our adventures were minor: my parents grounding me for getting a tattoo, the infection from getting my nose pierced, a broken ankle from rock climbing – just to name a few. I’d wanted to do all those things myself, but Dakota blamed herself when the outcome didn’t go the way it should’ve. Though, I knew my parents were going to freak when they found out about the tattoo.

This time, though…this time was different. It still isn’t Dakota’s fault. None of this is her fault. Though, I know she’s probably sitting in her room blaming herself.

She’d heard about this new club and she really wanted to go check it out. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t really like going to the clubs like she did and some of the girls I knew had some things to say about this club that weren’t so good, like a couple of girls had had their drinks spiked when they weren’t looking, another said there had been some sketchy guys there a couple of times, and there were rumors that some girls had been drugged there. Dakota hadn’t heard any this and really wanted to go see what it was all about. Eventually I agreed to go with her. They were just rumors, right. Maybe those girls had just made everything up. So, we went. I kept a close eye on our drinks just to be safe and insisted we buy new ones every time we left them behind on the table to dance just to be safe. We had a great time. Except for this one guy…he just kept watching us from the shadows. I’d told Dakota, but she didn’t seem to think anything of it. By time we decided to leave, it was late. I had wanted to call a cab or one of our parents to come pick us up, but Dakota said it was such a nice night that we should walk home. It wasn’t far. So, we walked. We were talking about something on the way…I don’t even remember what it was, but Dakota got mad. We stopped walking and she started yelling at me. I wonder if it had been about the shoes…. Then she walked off. I didn’t go after her because I knew she had just gone to cool off a bit before we started home again. Neither of us had known that he had followed us, that guy from the club, the one who had been watching us from the shadows.

God! I wish I could tell her somehow. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t get me killed. I don’t remember all that much of what happened after she’d stormed off, but I don’t blame her for this. Any of this. I just hope she realizes that and isn’t diving herself mad with guilt. If she does something stupid, I’m going to be furious with her!

[Corey sits on her gravestone and is silent for a moment] You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die? It’s not true. Or maybe it just wasn’t true for me. I don’t even remember feeling anything, just fear. I remember knowing that I was going to die and thinking about Dakota, about my parents, about my little brother, but I didn’t see anything flash before my eyes. I don’t know if there was anything to see, truth be told. Before Dakota, nothing really happened to me. Dakota brought adventure and fun into my life. I mean, look at me! I would never have been dressed like this if it weren’t for Dakota, never would’ve been dressed for a night at the club if not for her. These aren’t even my shoes! These aren’t my shoes…. I’m dead and I’m not even wearing my own shoes…. Huh. I’ve not only walked more than a mile in Dakota’s shoes, I died in them – was murdered in them even…. I wonder what that’s supposed to mean.