Chapter 4, Optimistic Views

On his way to school, Sylar is greeted by several of the town folks that were there the day his parents perished in the fire, along with the rest of the forest district. He passed many on a daily basis going back and forth from school, following the same route.


Entering the center of the city, Sylar gazes out into the stars of daylight. Large buildings with tinted windows reflect the sunlight making it look like it’s night during any time of day. Crossing a bridge that leads to the school yard, Sylar looks over the Japanese arched railing painted a cherry red into the gemmed teal water.


Fish swimming in harmony, one with another, almost like the school was a whole. Several fish were more than astounding to look at, and were mostly exotic fish based in the pond circling the yard where creativity was embraced. The water sparkling from the eyes of each fish, like fireflies in the night sky.


With notebooks in one hand, and an assortment of pencils and erasers in the other Sylar finishes admiring the pond and walks the rest of the cherry stained bridge. Entering the school yard, he notices there isn’t anyone there. Made sense, Sylar was still about an hour or so early to school. Finding his way to the back of the field. He plops down and opens his notebook, and studied his pencil.


Just before Sylar could start writing, even though nothing came to mind, he heard a faint question coming from the other side of the classroom with an identical bridge Sylar was just on. “What are you doing here so early, Sylar? Lessons don’t start for another hour.” Focusing a bit more on the bridge he saw his teacher coming down the sloop. A satchel rests on her shoulder with many folders, notebooks and other school supplies that couldn’t fit in her bag. Miss Walters, was there early every morning she had sessions to set up and prepare the classroom.


“I-i don’t have anywhere else to go” Sylar was a little hesitant on mentioning that. He wasn’t the type to let others know his personal life, but he wasn’t the type to lie either. He figured it would be best to just come out with it, in hopes Miss Walters doesn’t put the pieces together. Unfortunately for Sylar, she did.

“I just wanted some time to write is all.” Sylar just turned to the side, looking back down at his blank notebook, Passing the whole thing off as nothing. Setting down on a dirt mound, ideas start to flood Sylar’s head, and what any writer would do, he begins to write them down.

Your dreams can come true if you stay true to yourself

Choose to lose everything before you lose everyone

Success comes from work, not a silver platter


“Oh, are you writing a story?” Miss Walters asks Sylar a bit amused

“Nothing of that sort yet, just ideas. I’m actually uncertain of what style I want to write in.”

Well, because class is about to start in a moment. Could I speak with you before the others start to show up? I’m a little concerned with you showing up so early.” Miss Walters was right to be concerned. Though, didn’t know how to handle the situation or what is was for that matter.

Miss Walters had known the depth of what’s been going on in Sylar’s life with them living in small, helpful community. So she figured that’s what had been bothering him. Although, Sylar didn’t look to impressed when she asked to talk to him and gave Miss Walters a bit of an annoyed look.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I understand it must be hard for you to lose your parents, and what happened after you were adopted by your uncle. Always remember I’m here if you need anyone to talk to. The hardest thing of all is feeling like you have no one. Believe me, you aren’t the only one who is struggling to get through life. Everyone has something they battle, some more than others, but who's to judge each other's problems?” Miss Walters didn’t know what else was happening, though, she covered what she felt was necessary to help Sylar.

“Thank you Miss Walters” Sylar was to depressed to say much of anything else as if he has the time to anyways. Students began pouring in from the bridges and taking their seats. Classes were about to start. Giving Sylar a look of petty then turning around into a smile. Miss Walters made her way back to her desk. 

Amusing as it may be, the young ones still stopped by and gave the fish a nice welcoming by given them a paw full of fish food. Standing at her desk, Miss Walters greeted each and every kid as they made their way across the bridge and over to their desks.

Noticing him setting in the back, another young kit in Sylar’s grade helped herself to see what Sylar was up to. It looked to her as if he has been there for a while, in which she was correct. Though, she wasn’t the only one who had seen Sylar sitting back there. As the young kit began to make her way back to visit with him. She felt a paw grace over her shoulder, grabbing her attention. “What do you think you are doing Kadence?” Laughter broke out through the rest of the class. “Don’t even think about it or you can just forget being part of this- Luxurious group!”

Kadence was part of the “popular” crowd, and Sylar, well, he wasn’t. Though, that didn’t stop Kadence from having a slight crush on Sylar. Her friends did manage to stop her from talking to Sylar as long as they were around. That didn’t stop Kadence. Anytime she had an opening she would give it a go.

The group was made of girls whom were made of wealth and fashion to show. Everyone but Kadence anyways. She became part of the group once the other girls heard about Kadence’s dads’ good comings. He had become the city's landscape architecture.

“Alright everyone, have your seats filled and allow us to take wanders into this marvelous day to learn! Remember, knowledge leads wonders. The more you learn, the more questions become answer, and the more helpful to others you may become.” The teacher stoked about the journey and marvels knowledge can hold beneath it’s flaky skin.

“Okay kids! Today we will learn about the importance of dreams. Now, I’m sure most of you have a dream, some many even think their dreams are out of reach. Well they aren’t! Anyone has the power to do anything the wish... within the laws of physics of course.” Clapping her hands excitedly, Miss Walters is ready to start the lesson.

The students looking at each other, wondering how much coffee Miss Walters had to drink before she got to the school. Some were giggling, others were just looking at her with a bit of a confused face. But altogether, believed their teacher knew what she was doing and patiently sat through the lesson.


“Oh, how far people have gotten with their dreams! Your dream can come true, and will happen, but only if you stay true to yourself. Unfortunately, this isn’t a life with magic, and you actually have to work for what you want. The most important thing about your dream… it’s your dream, no one else's! Don’t let other people control your dream for you. If they don’t like what your wishes are, then they aren’t the people you want support from. You should never here ‘you can’t’ or ‘maybe you shouldn’t’. It should always be ‘you can’ or ‘maybe you should.”

Taking a breathe, the class is speechless, and can’t think of anything to follow up on Miss Walters speech. Except for one student, that started a chain reaction.

“My dream is to become a veterinarian and help take care of the sick.”

“I want to become a police officer and help keep the streets safe”

“My dream is to report the new”

“I want to become a molecular biologist!”

Interrupting, Miss Walters encourages the students to voice their dreams aloud. “That’s good kids! Keep them coming!”

Sylar off in his own world, writing away, not giving any attention to the lesson brought about the class room.

“Sylar, how about you, what is your dream?”

Sheepishly, Sylar tried to avoid the question by continuing to write. Acting like he didn’t hear what the teacher asked him which was unsuccessful.

“Sylar, what is your dream?”

Sighing with hesitance. Sylar takes a moment to prepare himself, not fully knowing what to say. “Well, to be honest, I haven’t really thought about what I wanted to become. But I do enjoy writing, and wish to do something with writing, maybe become a content creator or something to do with screenplays?”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful! What a creative path to choose Sylar” Miss Walters encouraging Sylar’s dream on, though, the rest of the class broke out into laughter. Thankfully for Sylar and Miss Walter’s, it was time to send the students home for the day. “Alright everyone that’s enough now! The point of this lesson was to encourage others dreams, we will pick up on this again tomorrow. You are all dismissed and hope you all make it home safe and sound!”

Waiting for most of the class to head across the arched bridges, Miss Walter’s stops Sylar before he got everything packed and headed out.

“Sorry about that Sylar, don’t let stuff like that bring you down. You have a long journey ahead of you, but not an impossible one. Once your dream is accomplished, you will have the power to help more than just a few people within the city walls. You will be able to help the world!” Miss Walter’s lifted the spirits up again for Sylar with her optimistic view of dreams.

“See you tomorrow Miss Walters!”

Chapter 3, A Missing Link

Broken glass amongst the dirt floor, and stains that mark the cream colored walls. An elder fox in his mid-fifties can be seen setting in an old tarnished wooden chair with a glass bottle firm in his grasp. Almost as if he cherished it deeply.

“Come on you waste. You are going school!” A deep voice called out, still sitting in his chair with his transparent bottle. “So help me if you are late you disappointment!” The old fox grunts and acts with anger.

“Come now honey, you know what happened wasn’t his fault!”

“Then whose was it?”

The woman paused, and the stained room filled with guilt. Shards of glass still lay on the floor beneath where the bottles had shattered. Holes in the dirt walls remain webbed from nesting spiders and doorframes hold no purpose. They stand no longer with great support but rather cracked splintering wood drooping inside the frame walls.

“It’s okay Aunt Eden, he means well, I know he does.”

The floors even made from dirt shared the same stains the walls did. Windows were oddly full and looked almost untouched. There was a pile of dust in the window frame, and the curtains were gray from all the dust. Unpulled, the house remains in the dark, lighted with nothing more than a lamp.

Sylar, however, was getting use to the way his uncle treated him. It wasn’t right be any means, but there wasn’t anything he could do at the time. It wasn’t time for Sylar to head to school. There was an hour gap between the time his uncle told him to go and the actual time he was suppose to be in class.

Quickly- trying not to let intrusive thoughts get the best of him, Sylar gathers his homework and misplaced papers that were placed on his rotted desk. The miscellaneously placed papers weren’t important, not to the teacher anyways. Sylar uses any scrap paper he can find to write ideas that course through his mind.

Sylar’s room, covered by no more than a worn sheet was cluttered. Filled with books, and scattered paper made up most of his clutter. He found a passion to write after his parents passed, and kept it as an escape for when he needed it. Obviously his mind would churn up some wicked stories.

Rushing off to the field, frightened (who wouldn’t be). Sylar’s aunt sticks up for him once again. Hoping to lighten the mood of the distraught elder. “Why must you be so hard on him? He has been through so much and you only make things worse on him!”

Not a word was said, Harnold just gave a menacing glare. A sign he wanted her to stay out of it. His wife knew why he was so upset with Sylar, but she also knew nothing was his fault. It was just one of those hatreds that grew stronger from memories. Unfortunately, Sylar was a memory.

“Harnold-” she was stopped before she could get any further than his name.

“What! It is what it is. Look, I need to clean up the messes Sylar hasn’t yet! That lazy kid doesn’t know how lucky he has it.”

“Harnold! You had a much easier life than he has and you know it. What changed you?”

Thinking long about what Eden said, he didn’t respond, he knew nothing Sylar did caused what had happened. It was just a freak accident.

“Eden, tell me this, why did we have to adopt him? Everything was going great... until we adopted him.”

“He needed a home! You can’t be that oblivious to why we choose to bring him in! You use to love being around him when he first arrived too, where did that go? Where did he go wrong within that 10 years?

Ten years ago, when Sylar was first brought in by his aunt and uncle everything was at peace. Sylar got along perfectly with their daughter, as they played after school like any siblings should. She helped Sylar get over his depression for the most part, as much as one can help. While Sylar became her best friend.

“Sylar just has something around him, I’m not sure what it is but he is cursed Eden, cursed.” Harnold finished the last sip of his beverage, and he got up to get another. He was wearing a white stained T-shirt, with red striped boxers.” Matted fur covered a good portion of his body while he walked around with his spare tire.

Harnold made his way to the cooler, which held his pick of thirst quenching liquids. The cooler was dug out low on the floor, found within the kitchen. With a decline from the living room to the kitchen to reach a further depth in the ground where it keeps cool at anytime of the year.

“He isn’t cursed!” Eden says in a voice that sounded like she was just ready to give up. It was pointless to convince him otherwise.

“He is Eden, the sooner you realize that the better.” Harnold mentions while thinking back on the day that changed everything for him. He pops the metal cap off his beverage, and heads back to his well worn out, stained chair. “Look Eden, as much as I would love to talk about all of this, perhaps it can wait another day. I have some outside work that needs to get done.”

Chapter 2 Festival Fires

A rhino, thick skinned and heavily worn, comes barreling into the center of the party where DJ’s perform atop a desert rock, large enough to fit an entire band. Animals from all around have come to live in the unitized village, block the incoming rhino from obtaining the microphone any faster.

The crowd in an uproar, yelling at the rhino to get off the stage. That wasn’t enough to scare him though. He, though tough looking, seemed to be far more worried about something else.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get off the stage.”

Many still screamed through the distraction of the festival music.

“Hey, guards! Come get this civilian off the stage!”

The rhino vigorously reaching for the microphone. His big rock like hands tosses it from side to side, making him scramble to prevent it from hitting the ground. After a few failed attempts of grabbing the mic, and flinging guards off his shoulders, the rhino finally finishes his quest, only to start another.

Panicking even more. He tries to pick his brain to find words that form a correlating sentence to excuse his interruption. Out of breath, he is finally able to utter his warning. Putting everyone else in a panic.

“The orange wisp, it BrEathes on our turf yet again!” The rhino panting into the microphone.

The crowd scatters, running into each other. Not even taking into consideration… they aren’t sure where this “chaos” is located. You can hear several faint screams from within then load uproar, caused, not by the Dj’s on stage, but a simple fan warning the others of the miscues fire.

“We’re all going to die!”

“We’ve lost… EVERYTHING!”

“The unity has been tampered!”

“Everyone, please just calm down! Let us decide what’s happening. We are the emergency responder after all, not you.” The angry hippopotamus states, hoping everyone would calm down. Hysteria, however, got the best of the over reacting crowd. The emergency responder got up on the stage, glared at the rhino, and pulls the microphone from his brisk hands. Continuing to tell the crowd to calm down. Eventually, the fans did, and by doing so, they found the fire, along with the charred remains of plants and homes.

The forest frontier had been hit with the uninvited guest, as it danced around destructively.The once thriving terraform is now looked at nothing more as a desolate area that won’t bring life anytime soon. Trees looked rotted and dead like they had been there for years, the ground was covered with ash, ruining the grounds properties for growth. Smoke had covered the great united city and slowly settled, creating a haze.

Unsure of what happened, everyone just stood like jade statues. Some were frozen to be worshiped, some were frozen as an elitist, others were frozen as if they were one. All frozen as time was stopped. Gates weren’t finished, fleeing wasn’t an option, the civility was dispirited.

Thawing, the crowd stops in sorrow, with a tight feeling a great loss heavy in their chests. “The damage should heal over time. But--” One of the responders broke the silence, still moving debris. The civilians gather around weeping over their loss. “There happened to two casualties, unfortunately.” Take her straw woven hat marking her as a rescue; the rest followed with obedience.

They all stare at the remaining burnt trunks, that glow of charcoal dust, and the smell of a festival fire. The tree tops were completely gone, no trace left in the ashes the ground was now made of. Lastly, homes and dens didn’t have a place within that claimant anymore. Life within this sector would no longer flourish, not like it used to.   

Off in the distance, were bushes still stand, sets a young animal who appears to be a kit. Hiding behind a few rows of leaves and branches, watching the adults and other children mourn uncertain of everything that place. The kit was sure something terrible happened, with the horrid looks the adults gave while staring at the reminisces of a den.

“M-mother? Father?” Not only was the smoke causing his eyes to tear, but his eyes began to tear up once he saw who’s den it was. Intrusive thoughts held tight in his mind that his parents didn’t make it out in time from the thick fires wall; they didn’t join in the celebration.

The Night’s tranquility came to an end

Chapter 1: Childhood

In a land; orderly pieced together, allowing a section for each biological terraform to live peacefully amongst the different climates, a group of young animals gather; setting up decorations, for the upcoming festivities in the young night as it ages, honoring the ancestors that made the unity between all species possible, amongst the fast growing civilization occupying the mass they all know and love today.

A lion cub- exhausted from his hard work that took place in the schoolyard, excited to see he is “almost” finished making the decorations handed to him. Paper, glue, and thinly wound string attracted to his paws; he holds his project by the thread used to hang the ornament to show off his accomplishment.

“I’m finally done! I can’t wait to start hanging these, this is my favorite time of the school year!”

“You are just excited because you don’t have to do this tedious work anymore.” an angered high pitched voice calls out from a red, orange tinted squirrel. Looking at her fur, you could tell she wasn’t a very handy person.

The lion cub looks over at her only in petty. He laughed at her.

“And you are only jealous because I only made a mess of my hands”

The room, well, open field full of children only knew of one manner in which to act. Laughter shattered through the wide open, putting Kelcy (the squirrel) in a hidden bent posture, hoping that would prevent everyone from looking at her, though it didn’t help.

“Hey now kids, let’s not spoil each others day with unnecessary remarks. Today is a special day and should be lived like the rest. You know we don’t pick on others, so don’t start today, Thank you!” Miss Walters, a Gazelle trying to lift the gloomy aroma from the field.

Both the lion cub and Kelcy apologize to the teacher by putting their paws together “Sorry” came from beneath the breath of the two young animals, politely bowing to Miss Walters and the rest of the class.     

“It won’t happen again, Miss Walters.” Kelcy reassuring the teacher. Under her breath, she manages to slip out “At least not when you are around.” without the adult figure hearing.  

All the students rounded up with their finished; not all nice and neat, but young crafted projects, the floating orb. Volunteers began to show up, knowing the students were given a strict deadline -- 2:30 PM, for the cities decorations; to help Miss Walters keep the young animals tame, while they hang “stars” on the vintage beams of businesses, and open marketplaces.

“Alright kids, you are all dismissed!” She nearly shrieked with excitement. “Hope to see you all at the festival tonight, and remember- it only takes ONE person… to make a difference.” Miss Walters was talking about the cause that made this celebration possible among the amalgamate.

A kit sluggishly makes his way back to his den after overshadowing the fun that took place in the field, where others helped each other creating and decorating the city. The rest of the kids either went home, or roamed back to the school, laughing, playing, and just having a great time.

The kit’s site picks up an older looking fox outside, working on what seemed to be a broken shutter, attached to a home made of sticks and mud, the door was round, and so was the window located on the right of the home.

“What’s wrong son?” Marvin; the kits dad asked, seeing the distant look on his son’s face. He was heartbroken to see a talented mind suffer, with not much to sustain it. Marvin felt responsible; only able to watch, and nothing more than a pill to help ease the pain. “I’m sorry there isn’t much I can do to help. I want to, you know I do, and I’m trying my best, I’m just not sure how to.”

Sylar looked at his father while tears began to form. Slowly, he walks toward his room. Thoughts ravage his mind; “No one wants you around”, “It’s all in your head”, “You have OCD? That must mean you are crazy.” The intrusive thoughts only strength each time he tried to fight them.

A wooden thud pierces through the air, caused by a furry paw. “Sylar-- do you mind if we talk outside?” Gingerly the kit accepts, questioning why his father would be calling him outside to talk. They begin climbing a marula tree just outside the doorway to their den; his father wanted him to be closer to the stars while they talked.

“Do you know what’s special about today?” Marvin asked, gazing into the shadows the stars created in the young, night's sky.

“N-no, I don’t. I know it holds deeply in the heart of our civility, but that’s about it. I don’t understand how such a big deal could be made over something as such.” Sylar looks down with disappointment strong in his sight.

“A city, filled with life, from any imaginable, terraform, fit for each animal; gathering around the night’s setting, ominous stars, fire built for festivities to break loose amongst the great unity; dancing a ritual, to honor those whom made this colony, and now we celebrate the memorable day, our ancestors created for us; a city of all species. Son, I promise you, once you reach far enough to obtain your star; the star that shines the brightest and glows the greatest, things will get easier, just follow your dreams.”

“How do I know which is mine?” Sylar looked up into the luminescent sky at the brightly shining stars.

“No son, you won’t find your stars up there. You can find it, awaiting your arrival; your star lives within you!” Marvin said with a bit of a smirk in his tone.

“I still don’t fully understand? What do you mean it’s inside me?”

a

“You may still be a bit too young to fully grasp what I am saying. But trust me… the older you get the more you will understand, and the more you will learn. Eventually, you will understand what this night was all about.”

“But- what if someone gets to my “star” before me?” Sylar was a bit concerned. Though he doesn't understand what his dad means, he still worries over of. Sylar’s ponders for a bit with a stern look in his eyes, while he waits for his dad to come up with an explanation. “Could- could someone have already taken my “star”.”?

“No, no, only you have the power to obtain the aroma filled speckles.”

“Stars? I thought there was only one?”

“There are many lesser stars you will need to reach before getting your final one. Think of it like a tree. Ever wonder what happens to a tree if the main stem dies? This can happen with the trunk of a tree and even branches. You see several trees where the trunk or branches slip off in a few different directions. This is because sadly the main stem wasn't strong enough to withstand that battles of life but, no need to worry because two new stems will compete to see if either or maybe even both with survive. Even trees reach out to their stars, though, theirs. You can see all the different paths the take. Ours, however, we can’t, so make the most of the paths you choose!”

Not sure how else to explain the star situation to his six year old son.Marvinn continues on with his motivational speech, hoping it will help his son in the future. He very well could just say that stars are his goals in life, but it will be more meaningful if Sylar found out on his own.

“My dad- he told me, just like now; I was in the same position you are now. He told me something I'd never forget till this day. He told me that when I get down enough that I think harming myself would make all the pain disappear, make everything instantly better, and forget the past. That I wouldn't be here if I wasn't meant to be here. And now I see it. I am here to help guide my son. I truly hope this talk helped you sylar. I know it won't be easy for you to see clearly now. But hopefully once you are older you can piece together this conversation and always keep it in mind.”

“Okay dad, can I go to the festival now?”

Little was anyone pying attention. A little friend stopped by the forest district while everyone was out having a blast. It joined them in their ritualistic dance, though barely celebrating alongside them. It danced with a lively orange- red glow, consuming homes and housing additions as it recklessly moves.

Disconnected

(Unfinished)






A family, of a lost mother, and a father who couldn’t grip reality anymore. A family that lost everything, and even more! The devil just couldn’t stop after taking the mother of two, but also by taking the career of a not so famous author, but one who could live off income from his royalties. If you thinks that’s as bad as it will get, may demons have you fooled? The family was a mother, father, son, and daughter. They lived happily, until the mother passed, giving birth to her daughter, Arial.


No one had blamed Arial for what happened, it wasn’t her fault? That didn’t mean anything to her though, she had thought many people, even her brother, and father accused her of the death of a dear loved one. She was diagnosed with anxiety and depression at a young age-still in grade school-. Nothing pleased her, nothing even seemed to be real to her, almost like her mind itself fell asleep… numb. Later in life, when she reach the high school, the kids she thought to be friends turned, and bullied her about her deceased mother. Months had gone by, even years, the same happened each day!


A couple days ago, she was diagnosed with with a rare form of cancer not wanting to take treatment. She believed to be God’s punishment for her mother’s passing.Stunning both my father and I, we were dumbfounded as what were to come next. We couldn’t believe how much bad luck we have had! We’ve had enough, and maybe God doesn’t think so, why? My father always says bad luck only means nothing but a good story. Well father, you sure have one hell of a story if you combine all the bad stuff that has happened the last few years!


How do I handle all of this? Well I don’t, I may not show it, but I am in pain. What is there for me to do though? I can’t live in the past. I can’t live thinking God doesn’t know what he is doing either. He will care for us, and if it is time for someone to go, than so be it!


You see though, I’m not the only one who too has this large weight, holding me down. The other day, I had taken a walk-when my sister was diagnosed- to the park. Hoping to clear my mind a bit to soak up this blood, trying to see the path. I neared a stone arched bridge, hearing a faint sounds coming from under it. I got close, hearing a depressing song, matching the tone of day I was having.


Rounding the corner of this paved tunnel I was astonished! There stood the most beautiful, astounding girl I has ever seen! She was on the short side, with blond flowing curls that met her shoulder blades. She was around my age -17- though, she didn’t look familiar. Something was wrong though? Her clothing, it wore of grim and tares. She had shorts on along with a shirt that covered her arms up to her elbows, the rest of what use to be a long sleeve T-shirt aged away. I wouldn’t think much of it, if fall hadn’t just hit, leaving a bruise on nature, knocking leaves off the trees and turning them a yellow-orange color. She was homeless?!


How could someone, with such staggering beauty at her age, not have a home? I confronted her, first by small talk, than leading it into my bad luck and all that’s happened. Hoping she would at least give me a brief summary to why she isn’t with her parents.


They both had died, she was new to town. They were in the midst of getting settled in when they both passed. Her mother, a flight attendant was involved in a plane wreck in which her father couldn’t handle living without the welcoming presents of his wife, so he killed himself. It was still hard for her to talk about but something like that should never be easy to talk about, no matter how strong a person you are! We continued talking in which I mentioned how strong she was for even trying to live after hope was gone. She was stranded, no place to go. She knew no one, and know one knew her. Her response was like no other.


It’s hard, not many people my age have lived a life like this! If they have they didn’t live it much longer, to find out what good may come of it. People say suicide is an easy way out, that only the weak choose it as an option to beat depression. You aren’t weak if that is an option to you, by all means you are strong because it takes guts to do something ungodly. That doesn’t make it right still! What does weakness and strength have anything to do with suicide? NOTHING! When you kill yourself you kill every living bit of those you take after for good. They still live inside you- watch over you, to keep you safe.


The world is corrupt, why -when it takes one person to purify- would someone with the experience to change the planet for the better was it all on something like that? People sin, where in the bible does it show you Gods sin meter where murder is on the top, and lying on the bottom? It’s all the same! No matter what you do, God sees sin, as a sin. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t enjoy living with sin and most don’t, some know they live with it, but don’t do anything about it. I hope to do something about it, I want to change the world for the better, show people there is hope, even when in doubt.


Than she went and told me more about her personal life and more about who she was and what she was like.


It seemed like… anywhere I went, no matter who I talked to or who I was around. I hurt them. I could just be standing next to them and I would somehow hurt them, just with me presents. What little friends I had, I fought with and even felt distant from. I felt disconnected from the world, no one to talk to and nowhere to go. I was already dead. Suicide to me now just seems pointless because you can’t kill something past death. What ever happened to me just happen and I took everything with a straight face. No emotion no nothing.


I suffer with claustrophobia, something of which most think deals with tight spots, but it is much more than that. Claustrophobia is about feeling trapped, and not being able to escape at your own will. That is how I feel every second of every day! I feel trapped. I don’t have anywhere to run, because there is nowhere to run too. I can be in a crowd of thousands of people, yet I feel alone and not in the sense I’m the only person who feels this way. I mean in the sense that I utterly feel like I’m the last person alive. It’s because I can’t make the right choices. No matter what I say or what I do, I mess up. It could be a simple hello and I piss someone off. I feel like everyone's against me no matter how much they support me.

I feel as if I am only a burden, my presents is just a wasted effort of trying to open up, showing people that I do exist! Just job I did have before all this went down. I worked, I didn’t complain about the work, no matter how much I didn’t want to do it. I just put a smile on my face, showing the world everything was alright, even in the darkest times. It got to the point I would get called in a good amount. Maybe things were changing for me? Maybe I was finally getting recognized! I was wrong, it only seemed to make things worse. I don’t have my license and I refuse to drive due to that fact I can’t escape at will. I started closing, in which I would need a ride home, my parents didn’t want to pick me up from work that late, so I had to find another way to get home. One of my friends who worked there offered to take me home and then others I worked with began taking me home as well. I felt bad because they were going out of their way, for me! Why would anyone be kind to me? What have I done to deserve such privileges? The more and more it happened the worst things got, though no one knew. I put a mask on every day, hiding my true feelings.

Akio Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Hey, you, are you all right?” someone says, cautiously approaching a terrified-looking Emi.

“Sir, did you see what happened?”

“N-no, I—I didn’t.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“Well, the only thing I can remember is seeing something floating.  It almost looked like two sai.”

“Is that why you screamed?”

“I’m not sure.  I guess that could be why I screamed.”

A look crossed the stranger’s face.

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Then do you mind me asking you what you’re doing?”

A scream filled the air once more, only this time with agonizing pain behind it.  Alex falls to the ground, as something has been forced upon him.  Leaning up against the cave wall, thin reddish liquid begins pouring out of him, leaving a puddle of blood beneath him.  It seeps through his clothes where there appears to be a wound.  Something has pierced his side, and the weapon is still there.  The blood creeps its way out of the wound, onto the weapon, and then down to the ground.  Getting dizzy from the blood loss, Alex bravely removes the weapon from his side: it is a sai.  He ends up passing out on the hard, moist cave floor.

“Huh?  Oh, it seems as if that were only a dream.  What a relief.”  Alex listens closely and notices that the storm has finally rolled past the cave.  “I guess it’s time for me to head out of this cave and go back to the village.  Or since I’m already here…It seems like this cave goes far back.  Might as well check it out and see if there’s anything interesting in here.  Why am I in such a rush to get out of here?  It isn’t even morning yet anyway.  I need something to do to pass the time.  I would rest, but that is all I did while I was waiting for the weather to clear.  I must have woken up because it stopped raining.  After all, the rain was quite a peaceful way to fall asleep.  The change in sound must have been the reason I woke up.  That or that horrible nightmare I had.  Might as well do something to pass the time, and I might as well go exploring.  I just hope I can find my way out of this place, though.  I wonder what could be back here since a hidden door is needed.  Wait a minute, how far back did I go?  It seems to me this door hasn’t moved in ages.  Meaning no one of this generation or even past would know of this secret.  I might have just discovered something that is worth my time being back in here.  Now let’s just hope I can get the door open at least to take a quick peek.”

Alex goes up to the door and begins pushing on it in hopes it would be an easy task to get it open.  After a little time just before his endurance gave out, he manages to get the door open just a crack.  He rests a bit and gets back up and begins to give it a go one last time.  This time he has no problem opening the door the rest of the way, almost like he was the god of strength.   That very door had been sealed for eternity, making it impossible for the average person to open it, and the mysteries that await behind the door are revealed.

Creeping in, Alex is not sure what to he’ll find.  There are many spiderwebs that hang from the ceiling and on the walls.  Strangely enough, there are no spiders to claim which web is theirs.  After fully entering the room, there is a smell of musk in the air that makes the room feel even more ancient.

“This place certainly has not been found in a while.  That’s a good sign for me, I guess.”

Walking further into the hidden room, Alex stumbles upon a raised area in the middle of the room.  The raised area has something on the top of it.  It is covered in spiderwebs and dust that had built up in the years it has been silent.  It is too dark for Alex to see what the object may be, so he reaches out and picks up what feels like a scroll.  Trying to find some source of light, he leaves the room and works his way back out of the cave.  The only source of light he is able to find is somewhere close to the mouth of the cave.  Depressed about the one object being the only thing he could find in the room, he begins to read what is written on the scroll beneath the dust that somehow had gotten onto the scroll itself.  Still hoping that it would have been a great find, he realizes it is after reading the word “Akio.”  Alex then knows who it is talking about.  Akio used to live in the village Alex lives in, so Alex knows some history about him.  Alex slowly opens the scroll completely, trying to hide the fact that he is excited to see what it has to say about Akio.  After slightly opening it, he can’t wait any longer, then rushes to reveal the words of the legend.  He attempts to read what is uncovered and what wasn’t ruined by the aging of the scroll.  As he begins to read, he passes out from all the musk that had built up in the hidden room, as it flooded his lungs unknowingly when he opened the door to the room.  The dust was heavy, and the cobwebs were thick.  When he opened the door, the air around him wasn’t fit to be breathed, but he didn’t know this.

Akio Chapter 1

Akio Chapter 2

Akio Chapter 3