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The Picture

This picture has a story to tell

When the father, mother

Bid the child farewell

A murder like no other

The girl was kidnapped,

Vanished, gone and into the night

    With fear so large, and her not in sight

The couple was young indeed

And they so did ever plea

A mysterious clown had been stalking

The town, watching in fear of talking

He escaped, gone, into the night

    With fear so large, and out of sight

The girl was then missing

    no bid farewell

The parents were saddened

    as you could very much tell

But the clown had returned

    late one night

With fear so large, girl still not in sight

 

He set the house a flame

    the only thing left

this picture, no frame

Then he was gone, gone into the night

    with fear so large, family dead on sight

















 

I Am

I am the dreamer

from heart ache

to headache

I am a believer in future

yet afraid of everything

I am in one day gain

But in the process, there is pain

 

I am to play a song

that will be understood

the smell of potato soup

on a chilly winter day

to everyone outside

kids at play

 

All of these memories, gone into the past

to which, i’m afraid, most will not last

And- to that I look to the future

For now I am me

    A true believer

InSaNiTy

                                   LIke a rock, at your window

your coNcious self

                               looSing control of everything

            your heAd spinning so fast

                  tryiNg to get a grip on

                 lIfe, as precious

      IT may be

                                You have become insane

 

Diamond

The Diamond

as blue as the ocean

as shiny as the reflection

of the crisp blue winter waters

as clear as eyeglasses used

to protect the expensive

tear drop from

the sky

fall

 

Surviving 9/11

I run out of my cubicle to see half of the building on fire. What. The. Hell. I un over to see scrap metal lying across, looks like the tip of an airplane. What happened? I heard screams as I look out from our building, seeing the cloud of smoke. I run to a lady trapped under a cabinet as I pull it up, off of her and help her get up. I go to the phone and listen, still works. I call my family and ask about this, asking for information. They’re crying and saying an airplane just hit our building and they are watching it on TV, I was then very confused. I hear my wife scream into the phone as I look outside to another plane just hit, this side the building next to us.

I was at a lost now, I ask my wife to stay calm and to call her brother to get his helicopter. He works for a helicopter tour for the city. She tells me she loves me and cries as she hangs up. I tell everyone on my floor to stay calm and quickly make it to the top of the building. The damage had just happened so I knew we had at least a little time to try.  They follow me up the stairs as we run up fast. I could’ve even think or hear anything as I look behind me and see the building crack open slightly with fire and one of our floor managers slipping and suddenly fall out. I run fast telling them to hurry to reach the top. I look around impatiently and anxiously for any sign of my brother-in-law. I stood there, now praying to God that she could get ahold of him.

Then, next to us we hear a loud crash, almost to sound as if the world was coming apart as the building next to us falls. I scream at everyone to lay down as the rubble and smoke flies up, like a sea wave and I can hear my brothers helicopter from a distance. He waits over a few blocks as the rubble and smoke settles, everything covered in this smoke as he flies over, hovering over us and I look up to see my wife throwing down a rope ladder, a let everyone else up and as I help them up I start feeling the building shake, it’s about to give. Just as the last person is getting up I grab the rope and yell, go.

He flies away as the building collapses

and I hold on tight, the breeze hitting

against the rope. I climb up it as they

shut the helicopter side door and I

sit there, out of breath.  They all look at me,

crying and tell me how thankful they

are for me saving them. I don’t feel like I did anything.

If there were only 12 people crammed into here, think of how many others were still in the building. Even the other building, hundreds, and the people trapped on the streets after they collapsed. We fly and land on top of a different building, near his touring company. We file out as I hug him and my wife and tell them how grateful I am. He gets out his cell phone to call that twelve of us our safe. The police had said for now, go home and rest and soon we’ll have to recall this. I sat there, thinking this day will be remembered, or greatly covered up. We go down to the road and my wife’s car is parked there. We ask her brother, Matt, if there’s anything we can do. He just asks us to go home and relax, that we’ve been through a lot. We got into our car and drove home, a few blocks away. I get in as I lay down, recounting everything that had happened that day.

I was forty two at the time. I am now sixty seven and sitting here, thinking about everything that happened that day. It still hasn’t left my mind. My wife tried to get me to see someone about it, to be able to “move on.” I refuse, it happened and it’s not over. We’re still in a war, even on this day January 4th, 2016. I take a look at my hands, the gun in my hand as my hands are cracked and shaking. I don’t know why I survived that, was I supposed to? I helped all those people, didn’t I? I hold the gun up and remember everything that happened then, and since then. I pull the trigger.















 

Survival Instincts

    You open your eyes. Not aware what time it is or if it’s even daytime. You’ve been waiting, in this cave for three months so far. Almost nothing to eat, to survive off of. No one’s here to help you. Your plane crashed almost eight months ago and it still feels surreal to you everytime you wake up. Twenty six, there were twenty six on that plane. You lie there, thinking of what you could have done differently. Maybe if you didn’t have that business meeting in a whole other country. Maybe if you hadn’t taken the job at all you’d be better off and not stranded. . .Wherever here is.

You hear a loud scream and sit up quite quickly. You run out of the cave and into the bright sunlight. Covering your eyes, it is too bright considering you just came out of a dark cave. Running out you see it, a little boy lying, trying to crawl away from the pack. You try to think quickly and grab a large broken off the branch and wave it over the boy to scare off the wolves. They won’t bunch, so you start hitting them with the large branch as they swarm you. You successfully scare them off. They run away as you toss the branch aside and look down to see the boy. Half of his face is chewed off as he lays there in tears, trying to talk. You kneel down, trying to catch what exactly he’s saying.

He explains that they did it, but he can’t breathe. He starts choking and you help him sit up as he coughs out a large sum of blood. As he is up you notice something, he was a passenger on the same flight as you. He is close to death as it is. You take a look over to see how bad the damage is. His legs, both mangled up to the kneecap, flesh hanging from certain areas of the calf. You suddenly see blood trickling down his throat and look up to notice a large bite and mangled up neck as well.  The boy lays back in pain, still coughing up blood. You grab the tree branch, thinking to put him out of his misery. You arrange yourself so it goes right over his head. Looking down, tears streaming down your face. All the memories, laughs, tears this boy will never even face. Trying to keep it together you use all of your muscle and slam the end down, hearing a cracking noise and look away to realise you are finished. You kneel back down next to him. Your stomach growls as you see to check his pulse to confirm the truth. You have to get going before more of them show up.

Starting to get up, you smell it. An almost warm, fuzzy feeling as you look over to see a cloud of smoke against the sky that is setting to become dark once more. Walking and climbing over to where the smoke is you can hear the crackling of a fire as you are close. Peaking through the trees you see them, a group of people in torn clothing sitting around a fire talking quietly to each other. You hear your stomach growl loudly as they look over, staring at you and know you’re there. One grabs a self made spear and yells at you to come out. Slowly you step out of the tree hidden shadows and come forth empty handed with your hands up as instructed.

You try to speak, for the first time in a long time as you cough, talking. “I have not come here to harm any of you,” you muster out in a raspy tone. “Are you from the crash?” Asks a lady seemingly to be in her late 30s. You nod and slowly shuffle over to sit down on the ground. “You must be very hungry,” the man with the spear stands over you. You nod once again and stay silent, unsure of what to say anymore. He hands you a fried fish and you start eating immediately, devouring quickly. In the distance, over to the hill you suddenly hear a loud long howl. The hairs on your arms stand as you feel suddenly shaken. The woman stands up, grabbing her shorter knife and stands very still. All at once it seems, four wolves come in and start attacking the group.

The four other crash survivors try to fight them off as you run back into the woods, watching from a distance. More wolves eventually show up, hungry for a feast and take out the rest of them. They lay there, all but one dead and mangled to be unrecognisable as the wolves trott off. You make sure the coast is clear and kneel down next to one of them, your stomach now even more so growling. You lean down, starting to eat the flesh of the man with the spear. Feeling an amazing warth take over and you eat and eat and cannot seem to stop. You finish up and get up, looking up you notice the bright moon in the dark sky. You have it, the survival instinct.












 

The Refugees

    I look out as I sit in my old rocking chair. I see everything, a field of flowers and animals before me. I then open my eyes and come back to reality. Everything in front of me has either died or is dying. They’re starving us out. The animals are long gone and any way of eating the meat would cause death. Our water supply, poisoned. Our food supply, all gone. I get up as I walk around back to see them. Through the gate hundreds of them walking.

Them in the same position as I stand, no where to go and trying to get out. I return to my rocking chair and sit. Everyone from this household, family; has died. All poisoned by them, even the children. I get up again after thinking about the events that has led up to this point. I walk back inside to the war torn home. Clothes, food gone bad, and homemade toys all but destroyed. Pieces left lying there as I walk over to my bed. A little blanket in the corner of the room as I see my dead son lying in the hallway. At least he didn’t have to suffer long. I walk back over to the empty bed and sit.

Sighing and exhausted from over thinking again I sit back, leaning my head against the wall. I need a way out, any way would work at this point. Walking back outside I can smell the dry air as if it too, were warning me of the uncertain dangers ahead. I grab a bag my wife had made long before this, pack the few clothes I had, and walk out. I shut the door behind me, thinking of someday coming back. I jump over the fence that separates us from the moving line of people wanting to find a better future. I slowly make my way into the swarm of people, following in the line. Hopefully we’ll find peace someday.


 

Lone Town

    I rub the sand and mixture of dust from my eyes as I stand up. Storm after storm, hit after hit. I walk around the sandy hilltop looking-looking for any sign of life or settlement. Not many people have survived these sandstorms. I notice something in the distance, suddenly snapping out of my own thoughts as I walk, almost run my way towards this shiny, reflective object. As I get closer I notice something. A dead silence over takes me, a strange one i’ve never experienced being in a sand storm this whole time. But this newfound silence was different. I approach the village now standing before me to see, tons of people lined up all around. Almost like they were waiting my arrival.

The silence still upon me as I walk through the village. No one even moves to look at me, how strange. All the bodies, pointed in one direction. I see a man on top of a building and he sees me then, everything else moves as he does. They all look at me now, as he holds up a reflective-to-the-sun piece of glass. That must have been just what exactly that I noticed. I run up and go into the building, hoping to reach the top of which this man is standing on. As I run up the stairs I hear someone yell, I look down the steps and notice him walk up the steps. I walk down to see his face, expressionless. How could someone that has just seen someone survive all of this and be so emotionless? Almost as if nothing fazes this man. He marches past me and back up the stairs as I follow him. He talks so monotone, still lacking any emotion. He explains that they survived the sandstorms and that every hour, there is another one and was shocked I even survived any as a human. “Human?” That part stumbled me. Wasn’t he human as well? Why would he explain it like that. He gave me a room to stay in, with a sink and tub filled with actual water. But it seemed nice, too nice. So I decided I was going to investigate tonight. When they were all gone and asleep at dark I came out of my room, noticing they were lined up down the street corner in rows of three. What was going on? I run over and wave my hand in front of them, noticing none of the were alive. This is strange, too strange. I run back over and sneak to watch the leader. He was on some sort of computer log but he was on a video chat explaining how he was going to murder me in the morning? Something very weird was going on and I don’t want apart of it. I quickly grabbed my bag from my room, grabbed a gun and ran out. I’d rather face the sandstorms anyways.

America’s “Fresh Start”

    I walk down the empty street and hear the silence. It’s strange, after a war it is awfully quiet, not a sound. I look up as I see a newspaper blowing around in the wind. I go over to pick it up and read the contents contained on the front page. “America gone! Nuked Clean and New Country to Move in!” No one lives here in Germany anymore since all of the countries got together and cleaned out America. I feel as if i’m the only one left here on this planet. An ocean away many people are moving into the land now uninhabited. The war ended shortly. They first took the president and held him captive for a large sum of money. After that, they used the money “earned” to build a nuclear weapon. World War 3 didn’t last as long as we thought. It started in 2017 with American’s calling out other nations and sending troops over the seas to Iraq. That didn’t go too well, obviously. And now, the land has been unused because of the “cleanup” of what remained and now we are able to move in over there. There has been peace since then. But I have stayed, I do not agree to what we, as people have done. I was 20 when it happened. Many years later I am now 86 years of age and I am currently here alone. My wife died when the troops turned every part of land over here into a death trap and burial grounds for our own people. I see a man come around the corner as I walk up to him. “How are you on this day?” I just look at him blankly. I have never seen this man before. Something about him was off so I was cautious. “I am fine young man, my thanks.” He nodded and kept walking. Now, say I am wrong here but something was indeed off about this. I’ve only seen 20 or so people and I remember every single one of their faces, but not this one. I wait until he’s a good way down the street as I turn and follow him, making sure to keep my distance as I follow him into an old tavern. This is getting strange..

No Cure

    Most of us went crazy, hearing voices all of the time of one another, people we can’t even see. The president appears on TV to “try and calm the nation.” It doesn’t work, though. We can hear him, too. Mostly everyone stays inside now, no one really goes outside. What’s the point? You just get headaches. I think I found a way to stop mine. My father is a scientist and one of the many “studiers” assigned to this case at Area 51. No one knows at all how this came about but so far, no cure. And the worst part is. . .You can hear every death, of the person you’re picking up on considering most have committed suicide. You can hear that. And afterwards, silence for a straight minute and following that everything tunes in again. this whole epidemic created so many wars. The nations found out what they’ve been lying about to each other about. Even our president has many deep, bad lies. And we’ve heard them all. None of us know what to do. But my dad has been trying to work on a “cure.” Every night he comes home and is exhausted, he sits on our couch and falls asleep. So I sneak out and over to the shed. The shed is a building my dad has as a garage, but no one's found out that it’s a lab because well, no one ever thinks to ask. There are no more TV shows or movies. Every movie theater closed down. No one could watch movies because of the headaches they got. I found a way to stop those, too. I build a headphone device that works kind of like a hearing aid. It turns all of the crisp, clear thoughts of everyone else and muffles them. So then they sound like a low hum. I really hope it works and that my dad finds it. Because I’m tired of hearing everyone.

Running From Death

I run as fast as I can

He catches up, scythe in hand

I remember the fresh bloody smell

Death remembers everything, he could tell

This problem not dainty at all

Death running still, standing tall

I begin screaming, he’s caught up to me

My life before my eyes, all I could see

I’m dead.

Now, this is a discovery

I shouldn’t have made a recovery

But I did

I’m alive

The situation, now harrowing

Everything narrowing

He will return again

Our Story

Your name

Reminds me of a story time

Where the prince meets his true love and they live so very happy

As happy as the sun in the sky and the moon peeking out on a warm summer day where the water shows you your reflection of how you used to be

Depression, always raging on like a Nascar game only there are no winners

But you, you’ve changed the thoughts to gold

As gold as the older shows we watched as children telling you it's going to be okay, do not be afraid

You wrapped me up in your warm soft embrace strong enough that even superman can’t stop us

It’s us against the world and as far as i’m concerned, we’re winning

 

I Swear I’m Not Crazy

Grandma sat me down and was telling a story one summer evening. It was a story about our family, way before I was born. I’m now seventeen and to learn the mistake her and my aunt had made has me wondering what goes on on this land. She had told me that one summer something they found let to my aunt's death. No one ever told me how she had passed, most have said it was a car crash as they were young. But the very strange thing about it is that there really wasn’t any cars at the time period of which she was referring to. They were on the farm and it happened more than 60 years ago. . .

    I run as fast as I can, my sister trying to keep up as we’re running around the property of our farm. It’s getting dark and my mother and father are there watching us play with a fire going nearby with a bundle of sticks to light up the night that the only other light source at the time was the bright glowing orb in the sky as the moon. I run and catch another one, a firefly and put it in my jar. My sister catches up with her jar and we sit down in the grass and count how many we have now. 1, 2, 3,...We now have 8 fireflies all illuminated in this tiny clear space we have. We sit up but as we’re sitting up we see a group of fireflies over by the barn that is up the hill from our house. We run up the hill as fast as we can, with our jars in hand and jump as we try to catch as many as we can. My sister yells “STOP” and we stop to a halt as I look over to see her crying. I run over to her and she shows me she’s been bit and she shows me what’s in her jar. Something that could not possibly be a firefly. But is in fact a fairy? We couldn’t believe our eyes! A fairy! We kept this a secret and let her go as we danced around excited. My parents found out, however as we were talking at the table one morning. My mother did not want any such talk of the matter again. As the days went on my sister couldn’t help herself, all she would talk about was this fairy. This went on for weeks and she said she’d been getting dizzy and saw things. Could this be from the bite from the fairy? My mother brought her into the doctor on the eve of her 9th birthday. It had been 3 years of this fairy talk and my mother had had enough. She took her into the mental hospital, which the doctor had highly recommended. We had left her there for 2 more years and on her 11th birthday she was allowed to come home to see if she could adjust. She wouldn’t talk, though, wouldn’t eat. She would sit up in bed at night and cry or stay silent and stare at the wall. I asked her one night if something had been bothering her and she told me the terrible things the doctors have been trying to do to get her to stop talking about what we’ve both seen. She warned me not to tell anyone, or I would suffer the same she had been. They had given her medicine, disgusting food when she misbehaved, and the worst, she had warned me was the electric shock therapy. She would be telling me all of these horrible things that had happened to her but she said none of the thoughts would leave. And as well as she was secretly still seeing these things. I was worried, so worried I had told my mom. They had sent her back and we got the letter at least four weeks after. My mother cried and I couldn’t quite understand what had happened. My mother said to wait, so I waited. I kept asking when she’d return and my mother would just shake her head and say “not yet.” It had been 6 years of me not even seeing her or talking to her. On the night of my seventeenth birthday I had found out what had really happened. My mother still had the letter and I took it as I read it silently in my head. The doctors had explained to my mother then one night while after her routined therapies my sister had hung herself using the blanket from the bed sheets. How could no one watch over her to make sure she’s safe? Worst of all in the letter the doctors had informed my mother that it was in fact the things she had seen that drove her to insanity. But it wasn’t at all, something was wrong with that fairy that caused her to do these horrible things..

My grandmother began crying and I shook my head. Only being a teenager, I thought she was just going of old age. I didn’t believe it at all. So I ignored it, of course. Two years had passed since that talk with my grandmother and she passed away one night, in her sleep. Peacefully, like she’d hoped for. My mother said she was crazy, my mother didn’t understand. Because one night a week after she passed, I was bitten while walking to our barn one night. And I think i’m going insane.

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