Just a call home to see how he is
Talk of light topics like soda fizz
Our conversations are of happy tone
After initial bitch, growl and moan
Superheroes and an upcoming movie
If I'd wait to see it, that'd be groovy.
Just half a year more
No and if, or
Then comes the screaming
And all this is dreaming
He expects resolution like magic
Which makes the truth tragic
That I've known all along
That he's always been wrong
I know what the world is
It's rules are not his
But I'll keep up the lie
And pray he will buy
That I didn't know
When have our row
After too many years
And too many fears
We're finally talking
And not just walking
He's the dad from when I was five
Before my grades took a dive
He's the man who adored me
Before I took home all D
And he demanded to know what I did
Like I wasn't just a confused kid
I never got over it
When I found out the bit
That I had my limit
He would just skim it
Even when my things got better
It wasn't about that first letter
It was about a forgotten chore
Or how I didn't lock the door
I got straight A's in high school
But if I broke a rule
He'd made sure I heard him
On every passing whim
Two seconds of glory
For every task I excelled in
And then comes the query
"Did you take out the bin?"
There to defend me
From dangers inside and out
But if flaw did he see
Would he begin to pout
He claims not to want perfect
But if you give any less
He'll make it seem not worth it
If impressing him is the quest
With timeime spent apart
There's room in my heart
To be his child again
If I could just not think
Of six months time when
All this progress goes down the sink
I can't live for him
I can't live on his whim
It takes too much effort
For no chance of reward
Knowing he'll be curt
When heart and soul poured
He says one thing like it changes another
Like one limit negates the other
Oh he'll hand out the blame
When no one plays the game
He is shocked and annoyed
Like he was somehow ployed
If I release the wrong sigh
I hate that I have to lie
But he hates the truth
Ever uncouth
But until that frost
I have found what I'd lost
I was sure I could only hate and resent
Despise that he was ever present
Finally he is my father, not dad
But now it only makes me sad
Because I know it will not last
Before it's a thing of the past
There is nothing I can do
And I am ripped in two
As I count down the days
Until I fear our parting of ways
Friday, November 16, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Two Sides of the Same Coin
Erika knew she was in trouble when the Duke was overthrown. In the back of her mind she’d always known he was her father, but that wasn’t the point. The point was her mother, Tessa was his favorite prostitute, and as such, they were protected as long as they stayed in the duchy. That is, as long as he was in charge of the duchy.
Now he’d been killed and a warlord was storming through the land, murdering, pillaging, and burning everything in sight. There was little doubt where he was heading. Her mother figured it out and sent Erika to the Temple, the protect Erika and as a final safeguard to the Temple.
Erika had gone there often with her mother to learn the Arts of Juno, magic. While Tessa was a master, Erika was still learning. She doubted her limited ability could protect her long if the Warlord’s arrived, so she pleaded to the lost gods of the Temple and hugged her knees tight. She was scared out of her mind, frightened of the warlord’s men, and what they might do.
“Please, please, protect me.” She whispered as she looked up at the walls of the Temple, images long since lost.
Clink! The sound made Erika’s heart stop as she turned. The source had caught the light as it fell. After waiting a moment and no one came bursting in, she reached for the small object, noting an indent in the wall from where it must have fallen. It was round, Erika realized as she began to rub off the dirt. Soon she found herself holding a medallion, one side made of black pearl and the other of white. Engraved on it was a two faced god she couldn’t identify, but stared at for a long while. Where had it come from? Looters had taken everything of value from the Temple long ago. How had they missed something as precious as this?
A call from the other side of the Temple pulled Erika from her thoughts.
“Erika? Erika, darling, are you in here?” The source was her Aunt Ella, the sister of her mother. Erika slowly peeked out from behind the statue of Juno where she hid, for her mother had told her never to trust anyone in such circumstances. As it turned out, Tessa’s instincts were on the dot. Ella was there, but she’d led the Warlord’s men straight to the temple!
Fury welled up inside Erika as she gripped the medallion, glaring at the traitor. How could she? Their family had been protecting the Temple since before many names were forgotten. Their sacred duty was to keep it safe from outsiders who might defile the Holy Grounds.
“You said she’d be in here.”
That was the first Erika saw of the Warlord Exal as he approached Ella. She had to stop from gasping, for he was dragging in Tessa. She was glaring at her sister, and even spat at her. Exal wore light armor, clearly boosted by a magic amulet that resided on the chest plate, the only thing that could have protected him from Tessa’s magic.
“She’s here, I’m sure!” Ella cried out.
“You will suffer in Tartarus for this betrayal!” Tessa hissed.
“Don’t you see Tess? If we just give them Erika…”
“You want to give them my daughter, your niece, for our lives!”
“For the good of the many, sister!”
“You are no sister of mine!”
“Enough of your bickering!”
Exal interrupted them by grabbing Ella by her hair and dragging her further into the Temple, its hall lit by torches that lined the walls every few feet.
“Girl!” He barked as Erika’s aunt screamed, “Before his passing, your father promised you to me!”
“No!” Tessa hissed as Ella continued to sob. Erika paled and Exal smirked and laughed, tossing his head back. “
It’s very true, like it or not! So come out girl, so I might make you a woman, and they will be spared!”
Erika glared at him from her hiding spot as she tried to conjure a plan. As long as he wore the amulet, her powers were useless. She didn’t have a moment to think on it though, for Ella suddenly went silent. When her body fell, Exal was cleaning her blood from his sword.
“You can still save one, girl!” He shouted. “Offer yourself now, your mother may live!”
“No, Erika!” Tessa cried out, “Stay away, stay hidden! Do not surrender!”
“Shut your mouth, whore!”
It was the last straw when Exal slapped her mother. Erika stood, still clutching the medallion in a steel grip as she stepped forward.
“Better an honest whore,” She hissed, “Then a warlord who needs cheap tricks to conquer three women.”
“Why you little…”
“Erika, run!”
Exal stormed forward and knocked Erika back when he stuck her. She cried out, hearing an almost sickening crack as her head hit the base of the statue and the medallion fell beside her, white side up. His men were laughing in the distance, and Erika could hear Tessa screaming. Yet, even as she watched her blood drip down onto the medallion from the stone, she was unafraid. Even as Exal approached, and her sight went dark, she knew it would all work out...
Exal on the other hand was rather unnerved when he saw the Medallion beside the nearly dead girl spinning. He would have let it be, but then her body began to hover above the ground. His men gasped, beginning to mutter witchcraft, as he watched in shock. The girl’s unusual silver hair was darkening, becoming black, and her pale skin was tanning before his eyes.
The feminine figure slowly rotated, landing on her feet as the medallion flew up toward her. It was then her red eyes shot open and she caught it, and it seemed to vanish into her hand. The black haired girl turned to Exal with a smirk and for a moment he was unafraid, calm and sure he could wind.
In that moment, she was behind him, had her hands on either side of his head, and snapped his neck. The soldiers in the Temple began to scream and scatter, only causing her to laugh and toss her head back.
“Go ahead and run,” She shouted and pulled the sword from the dead Warlord’s body. “It only makes things more fun!
As the last soldier fell in a puddle of blood, Tessa finally found her ability to address the dark haired girl.
“E-Erika?” She stammered, staring at the body that had been her daughter’s. She laughed softly in replied before facing Tessa.
“You have nothing to fear of me, Lady Protector of this Temple. I am a servant of your Gods, whom your daughter beseeched in time of need.”
“Is Erika…?”
“No, she is quite alive.” She laughed again. “I was unleashed inside her when her innocent blood was spilt on the Medallion of Janus.”
“Who are you?” Tessa finally asked.
“Me?” The woman paused before answering. “I’m Enigma.”
Before another word could be said she collapsed n a heap, the sword falling beside her. Tessa scrambled up and caught the girl as the darkness faded from her hair and her skin once again paled. She groaned softly, blue eyes blinking up at her.
“Mother…?”
“Oh, my sweet child…” Tessa hugged her tightly and close. Erika blinked and returned the hug for a long moment before gasping.
“Mother?”
“What is it?” Tessa asked, releasing her, alarmed.
“…What happened to all the soldiers?” Erika exclaimed as she looked around the Temple, now covered in blood.
“You don’t know?” Tessa stammered, staring at her daughter’s hands, still soaked in that same blood.
“The last thing I remember is getting hit. Then it’s all black.”
Enigma. Tessa thought it over and hugged her daughter tightly once more.
“I suppose it’s a mystery.” She replied as they stood up. “Come on now. We’re the Guardians of this Temple, and we have quite the mess to clean up.”
“Right…” Erika’s blue eyes became distant for a moment as she followed her mother. “An Enigma…”
Now he’d been killed and a warlord was storming through the land, murdering, pillaging, and burning everything in sight. There was little doubt where he was heading. Her mother figured it out and sent Erika to the Temple, the protect Erika and as a final safeguard to the Temple.
Erika had gone there often with her mother to learn the Arts of Juno, magic. While Tessa was a master, Erika was still learning. She doubted her limited ability could protect her long if the Warlord’s arrived, so she pleaded to the lost gods of the Temple and hugged her knees tight. She was scared out of her mind, frightened of the warlord’s men, and what they might do.
“Please, please, protect me.” She whispered as she looked up at the walls of the Temple, images long since lost.
Clink! The sound made Erika’s heart stop as she turned. The source had caught the light as it fell. After waiting a moment and no one came bursting in, she reached for the small object, noting an indent in the wall from where it must have fallen. It was round, Erika realized as she began to rub off the dirt. Soon she found herself holding a medallion, one side made of black pearl and the other of white. Engraved on it was a two faced god she couldn’t identify, but stared at for a long while. Where had it come from? Looters had taken everything of value from the Temple long ago. How had they missed something as precious as this?
A call from the other side of the Temple pulled Erika from her thoughts.
“Erika? Erika, darling, are you in here?” The source was her Aunt Ella, the sister of her mother. Erika slowly peeked out from behind the statue of Juno where she hid, for her mother had told her never to trust anyone in such circumstances. As it turned out, Tessa’s instincts were on the dot. Ella was there, but she’d led the Warlord’s men straight to the temple!
Fury welled up inside Erika as she gripped the medallion, glaring at the traitor. How could she? Their family had been protecting the Temple since before many names were forgotten. Their sacred duty was to keep it safe from outsiders who might defile the Holy Grounds.
“You said she’d be in here.”
That was the first Erika saw of the Warlord Exal as he approached Ella. She had to stop from gasping, for he was dragging in Tessa. She was glaring at her sister, and even spat at her. Exal wore light armor, clearly boosted by a magic amulet that resided on the chest plate, the only thing that could have protected him from Tessa’s magic.
“She’s here, I’m sure!” Ella cried out.
“You will suffer in Tartarus for this betrayal!” Tessa hissed.
“Don’t you see Tess? If we just give them Erika…”
“You want to give them my daughter, your niece, for our lives!”
“For the good of the many, sister!”
“You are no sister of mine!”
“Enough of your bickering!”
Exal interrupted them by grabbing Ella by her hair and dragging her further into the Temple, its hall lit by torches that lined the walls every few feet.
“Girl!” He barked as Erika’s aunt screamed, “Before his passing, your father promised you to me!”
“No!” Tessa hissed as Ella continued to sob. Erika paled and Exal smirked and laughed, tossing his head back. “
It’s very true, like it or not! So come out girl, so I might make you a woman, and they will be spared!”
Erika glared at him from her hiding spot as she tried to conjure a plan. As long as he wore the amulet, her powers were useless. She didn’t have a moment to think on it though, for Ella suddenly went silent. When her body fell, Exal was cleaning her blood from his sword.
“You can still save one, girl!” He shouted. “Offer yourself now, your mother may live!”
“No, Erika!” Tessa cried out, “Stay away, stay hidden! Do not surrender!”
“Shut your mouth, whore!”
It was the last straw when Exal slapped her mother. Erika stood, still clutching the medallion in a steel grip as she stepped forward.
“Better an honest whore,” She hissed, “Then a warlord who needs cheap tricks to conquer three women.”
“Why you little…”
“Erika, run!”
Exal stormed forward and knocked Erika back when he stuck her. She cried out, hearing an almost sickening crack as her head hit the base of the statue and the medallion fell beside her, white side up. His men were laughing in the distance, and Erika could hear Tessa screaming. Yet, even as she watched her blood drip down onto the medallion from the stone, she was unafraid. Even as Exal approached, and her sight went dark, she knew it would all work out...
Exal on the other hand was rather unnerved when he saw the Medallion beside the nearly dead girl spinning. He would have let it be, but then her body began to hover above the ground. His men gasped, beginning to mutter witchcraft, as he watched in shock. The girl’s unusual silver hair was darkening, becoming black, and her pale skin was tanning before his eyes.
The feminine figure slowly rotated, landing on her feet as the medallion flew up toward her. It was then her red eyes shot open and she caught it, and it seemed to vanish into her hand. The black haired girl turned to Exal with a smirk and for a moment he was unafraid, calm and sure he could wind.
In that moment, she was behind him, had her hands on either side of his head, and snapped his neck. The soldiers in the Temple began to scream and scatter, only causing her to laugh and toss her head back.
“Go ahead and run,” She shouted and pulled the sword from the dead Warlord’s body. “It only makes things more fun!
As the last soldier fell in a puddle of blood, Tessa finally found her ability to address the dark haired girl.
“E-Erika?” She stammered, staring at the body that had been her daughter’s. She laughed softly in replied before facing Tessa.
“You have nothing to fear of me, Lady Protector of this Temple. I am a servant of your Gods, whom your daughter beseeched in time of need.”
“Is Erika…?”
“No, she is quite alive.” She laughed again. “I was unleashed inside her when her innocent blood was spilt on the Medallion of Janus.”
“Who are you?” Tessa finally asked.
“Me?” The woman paused before answering. “I’m Enigma.”
Before another word could be said she collapsed n a heap, the sword falling beside her. Tessa scrambled up and caught the girl as the darkness faded from her hair and her skin once again paled. She groaned softly, blue eyes blinking up at her.
“Mother…?”
“Oh, my sweet child…” Tessa hugged her tightly and close. Erika blinked and returned the hug for a long moment before gasping.
“Mother?”
“What is it?” Tessa asked, releasing her, alarmed.
“…What happened to all the soldiers?” Erika exclaimed as she looked around the Temple, now covered in blood.
“You don’t know?” Tessa stammered, staring at her daughter’s hands, still soaked in that same blood.
“The last thing I remember is getting hit. Then it’s all black.”
Enigma. Tessa thought it over and hugged her daughter tightly once more.
“I suppose it’s a mystery.” She replied as they stood up. “Come on now. We’re the Guardians of this Temple, and we have quite the mess to clean up.”
“Right…” Erika’s blue eyes became distant for a moment as she followed her mother. “An Enigma…”
N.A.O.M.I.
Naomi was terrified of people, as a rule, so she lived in an apartment with a premed student. The other girl was always busy with her studies so she never really bothered Naomi. So the girl lived out of her room with a computer hooked to the net by an Ethernet connection. On occasion her roommate was probably curious about how she got rent, but it never bothered her enough to ask. The truth was Naomi had a sort of nest egg left to her from her mother, a brilliant woman who’d trusted the wrong man with her heart.
The truth was Naomi’s life was on the net. She loved running through the zeroes and ones of binary, not really caring how much time went on in the real world. Firewalls were like fences to her, something to be scaled and climbed. It never occurred to hr anything was odd about her simple existence. She could roam landmarks like Stonehenge and the Lincoln Memorial from the net and experience rock concerts through live feed as if she were there.
It never struck Naomi as odd that there was an Ethernet jack behind her ear. The fact that she could feel any sensation through the net as if she were experienced it in reality never gave her pause. That was simply her state of existence as others lived and breathed (something she did, but did not realize she didn’t have to). Other then the tragedy of her mother, Naomi fancied she had an ordinary life.
Until she started finding her name left all over the Net for her to find. It appeared in pop ups, web banners, videos, URLs, RSS feeds, even web comics. It was small enough not to be noticed, unless you viewed the net the way Naomi did. There it was, the combination of her name, all over the net, so deep in it’s programming no one probably even noticed. It didn’t cause issues, more an addition in the programming then part of it, probably slipped in as an update. Yet no matter where she went she found that same identical combination of ones and zeroes. 01001110 01000001 01001111 01001101 01001001: NAOMI.
It was an ordinary evening when that that message proved itself more then coincidence. Naomi was wearing her usual pajamas, a blue button top with short sleeves and yellow pants. Her feet were clad in green fuzzy slippers, and this clothing was her favorite outfit, she washed it when she showered. She had a spare set of course, wearing the same pajamas twenty-four seven was something she didn’t much like the feel of. She had tried once, but the cloth felt grimy against her skin and the smell got on her nerves. When her roommate got home she found Naomi standing in the laundry room wearing naught but her under thing. As she never left the apartment, all Naomi felt she needed in terms of clothing were those two sets of pajamas, two pairs of fuzzy slippers, and under things.
CNN’s news scroll had been hacked by sources unknown. The story was all over the net, so at some point Naomi wound up examining the article, and one the hacked scroll had read. By the time she finished decoding it her microwave dinner was cold to the touch. Translated, the binary read: Naomi. I knew your mother. Meet me at… Then it was the address of a fast food joint. Naomi could hear her heart racing in her chest as she stood up, programming the information into a GPS application on her handheld device. She didn’t know the brand, mostly because it didn’t have one. Naomi had found a bunch of broken gadgets and put together the parts that still worked. It worked on a third party operating system, but it worked just the same.
Naomi exhaled as it found the location and programmed the directions. She glanced in the computer screen for a moment, briefly considering the situation. Whoever had sent the message was desperate to communicate with her. They knew about her somehow, and considering she hadn’t ventured out of the apartment in over two years, that was an odd fact.
Of course it might be a trap, perhaps someone trying to get her mother’s murderer parole by killing the only witness to his crimes. Yet he had a life sentence and it hadn’t even been five years since the crime, so Parole could not be a question yet, could it? Naomi shuddered at the thought of that madman who haunted her dreams walking free.
Still she approached the door, her curiosity greater then her fear. Whoever had contacted her had gone through an awful lot of trouble to do it, and she wanted, no, she needed to know why.
It’s possible Naomi stood out when she arrived at the diner. It was the middle of the night and she wore her pajamas and slippers as always. The messenger was rather obvious though, for there was a series of empty coffee cups in front of him on the counter. He’d sent the message over the news at five o’clock at it was nearly midnight. He looked like a tired man, his hair salt and pepper, his skin creased, and he wore a jacket with elbow patches. He certainly doesn’t seem like someone who’d befriend a murderer. Of course then she remembered reading somewhere that murderers seemed like normal people until they struck. Naomi shivered at the thought as she sat down beside the man.
He glanced over with tired brown eyes and paused for a long moment.
“You’re not freezing in that? Weather predicts snow.”
“I’m just fine, thanks. Didn’t notice.” Naomi looked to him. “I don’t have anything but a PayPal account and a bank card, so you better be covering my tab. As you invited me out that’s only polite.”
“…You’re Naomi?” The man seemed a bit surprised. “And you eat?”
“Yes, I am, and I do. Usually pop tarts. As we’re at a diner, I fancy French toast.”
“Ah. Right.” The man waved down a waitress and put in the order.
It was Naomi’s oddest meal because he was staring at her during every bite.
“Did I get syrup on my cheek?” She asked, looking at him.
“It doesn’t gunk up the works?” He inquired.
“…Why would it? I’m not allergic.” Naomi sighed and shook her head, looking up at him. “I think you should tell me how you knew my mother.”
The mans face darkened for a moment as he looked down.
“Yes, I knew her. She was a brilliant woman. Aya Haruki. Cursed to be infertile.” He murmured. “And obsessed with creating life.”
“I’d rather think your wrong.” Naomi stared at him, “Seeing as I’m sitting here eating French toast, her daughter.”
“You were hers.” He laughed. “One hundred percent all hers. Aya wouldn’t let anyone else touch the project. She barely let me see her notes, except she needed supplies, and if she asked for anymore herself they’d have asked too many questions for her liking.” He paused, staring at her again. “You are magnificent.”
“And you are old enough to be my father and a bit creepy.”
Naomi stood up, a strange feeling in her gut. She was nervous, like if she remained there her life would change forever.
“New Android Operating Memory and Identity.” The man stated as he sipped a fresh mug of coffee. Naomi shivered as she faced him, she had a knack for words, and she knew it before he clarified. “N.A.O.M.I. That was her name for the project. No one believed she could do it. Hell, I had my doubts. Nonetheless, here you are. Living, talking, walking, breathing, eating.”
“Creeped out.” Naomi added, “Goosebumps forming.”
“Goosebumps?” He paused and laughed. “She was a perfectionist, Aya. Do you dream?”
“Have nightmares every night.” Naomi replied as her eyes narrowed, “And I’m going home. Because I don’t think you knew my mother anymore and this was a sick prank.”
“Naomi!”
He reached out as she turned to leave, grasping the edge of her pajama top. A few buttons broke and she yelped, covering her chest with her arms.
“You dirty old pervert!” She screeched.
“You weren’t born, Naomi, you don’t have a belly button!” He cried out. They were silent for a moment, in the middle of a scene at the diner. Naomi’s bright, too bright, blue eyes looked down to her midriff in almost terror. She’d never noticed her lack of a belly button before. Shock filled her eyes as she faced the man with answers.
“Why?”
“Because,” He finished his coffee before facing her, “You’re an android.”
The truth was Naomi’s life was on the net. She loved running through the zeroes and ones of binary, not really caring how much time went on in the real world. Firewalls were like fences to her, something to be scaled and climbed. It never occurred to hr anything was odd about her simple existence. She could roam landmarks like Stonehenge and the Lincoln Memorial from the net and experience rock concerts through live feed as if she were there.
It never struck Naomi as odd that there was an Ethernet jack behind her ear. The fact that she could feel any sensation through the net as if she were experienced it in reality never gave her pause. That was simply her state of existence as others lived and breathed (something she did, but did not realize she didn’t have to). Other then the tragedy of her mother, Naomi fancied she had an ordinary life.
Until she started finding her name left all over the Net for her to find. It appeared in pop ups, web banners, videos, URLs, RSS feeds, even web comics. It was small enough not to be noticed, unless you viewed the net the way Naomi did. There it was, the combination of her name, all over the net, so deep in it’s programming no one probably even noticed. It didn’t cause issues, more an addition in the programming then part of it, probably slipped in as an update. Yet no matter where she went she found that same identical combination of ones and zeroes. 01001110 01000001 01001111 01001101 01001001: NAOMI.
It was an ordinary evening when that that message proved itself more then coincidence. Naomi was wearing her usual pajamas, a blue button top with short sleeves and yellow pants. Her feet were clad in green fuzzy slippers, and this clothing was her favorite outfit, she washed it when she showered. She had a spare set of course, wearing the same pajamas twenty-four seven was something she didn’t much like the feel of. She had tried once, but the cloth felt grimy against her skin and the smell got on her nerves. When her roommate got home she found Naomi standing in the laundry room wearing naught but her under thing. As she never left the apartment, all Naomi felt she needed in terms of clothing were those two sets of pajamas, two pairs of fuzzy slippers, and under things.
CNN’s news scroll had been hacked by sources unknown. The story was all over the net, so at some point Naomi wound up examining the article, and one the hacked scroll had read. By the time she finished decoding it her microwave dinner was cold to the touch. Translated, the binary read: Naomi. I knew your mother. Meet me at… Then it was the address of a fast food joint. Naomi could hear her heart racing in her chest as she stood up, programming the information into a GPS application on her handheld device. She didn’t know the brand, mostly because it didn’t have one. Naomi had found a bunch of broken gadgets and put together the parts that still worked. It worked on a third party operating system, but it worked just the same.
Naomi exhaled as it found the location and programmed the directions. She glanced in the computer screen for a moment, briefly considering the situation. Whoever had sent the message was desperate to communicate with her. They knew about her somehow, and considering she hadn’t ventured out of the apartment in over two years, that was an odd fact.
Of course it might be a trap, perhaps someone trying to get her mother’s murderer parole by killing the only witness to his crimes. Yet he had a life sentence and it hadn’t even been five years since the crime, so Parole could not be a question yet, could it? Naomi shuddered at the thought of that madman who haunted her dreams walking free.
Still she approached the door, her curiosity greater then her fear. Whoever had contacted her had gone through an awful lot of trouble to do it, and she wanted, no, she needed to know why.
It’s possible Naomi stood out when she arrived at the diner. It was the middle of the night and she wore her pajamas and slippers as always. The messenger was rather obvious though, for there was a series of empty coffee cups in front of him on the counter. He’d sent the message over the news at five o’clock at it was nearly midnight. He looked like a tired man, his hair salt and pepper, his skin creased, and he wore a jacket with elbow patches. He certainly doesn’t seem like someone who’d befriend a murderer. Of course then she remembered reading somewhere that murderers seemed like normal people until they struck. Naomi shivered at the thought as she sat down beside the man.
He glanced over with tired brown eyes and paused for a long moment.
“You’re not freezing in that? Weather predicts snow.”
“I’m just fine, thanks. Didn’t notice.” Naomi looked to him. “I don’t have anything but a PayPal account and a bank card, so you better be covering my tab. As you invited me out that’s only polite.”
“…You’re Naomi?” The man seemed a bit surprised. “And you eat?”
“Yes, I am, and I do. Usually pop tarts. As we’re at a diner, I fancy French toast.”
“Ah. Right.” The man waved down a waitress and put in the order.
It was Naomi’s oddest meal because he was staring at her during every bite.
“Did I get syrup on my cheek?” She asked, looking at him.
“It doesn’t gunk up the works?” He inquired.
“…Why would it? I’m not allergic.” Naomi sighed and shook her head, looking up at him. “I think you should tell me how you knew my mother.”
The mans face darkened for a moment as he looked down.
“Yes, I knew her. She was a brilliant woman. Aya Haruki. Cursed to be infertile.” He murmured. “And obsessed with creating life.”
“I’d rather think your wrong.” Naomi stared at him, “Seeing as I’m sitting here eating French toast, her daughter.”
“You were hers.” He laughed. “One hundred percent all hers. Aya wouldn’t let anyone else touch the project. She barely let me see her notes, except she needed supplies, and if she asked for anymore herself they’d have asked too many questions for her liking.” He paused, staring at her again. “You are magnificent.”
“And you are old enough to be my father and a bit creepy.”
Naomi stood up, a strange feeling in her gut. She was nervous, like if she remained there her life would change forever.
“New Android Operating Memory and Identity.” The man stated as he sipped a fresh mug of coffee. Naomi shivered as she faced him, she had a knack for words, and she knew it before he clarified. “N.A.O.M.I. That was her name for the project. No one believed she could do it. Hell, I had my doubts. Nonetheless, here you are. Living, talking, walking, breathing, eating.”
“Creeped out.” Naomi added, “Goosebumps forming.”
“Goosebumps?” He paused and laughed. “She was a perfectionist, Aya. Do you dream?”
“Have nightmares every night.” Naomi replied as her eyes narrowed, “And I’m going home. Because I don’t think you knew my mother anymore and this was a sick prank.”
“Naomi!”
He reached out as she turned to leave, grasping the edge of her pajama top. A few buttons broke and she yelped, covering her chest with her arms.
“You dirty old pervert!” She screeched.
“You weren’t born, Naomi, you don’t have a belly button!” He cried out. They were silent for a moment, in the middle of a scene at the diner. Naomi’s bright, too bright, blue eyes looked down to her midriff in almost terror. She’d never noticed her lack of a belly button before. Shock filled her eyes as she faced the man with answers.
“Why?”
“Because,” He finished his coffee before facing her, “You’re an android.”
Modern Day Don Quixote
A warrior against what others couldn’t see
I wonder how many times his might saved me
Oh, of our modern day Don Quixote
When you saw a simple windmill
Into battle he would ride
For he spied a wicked giant
With arms spread open wide
Yet when he fell back down that hill
Society was less compliant
People are so quick to judge
To disregard what “cannot be”
They did hold a grudge
So when he insisted he could see
They merely called him crazy
But what if
It wasn’t he saw things that weren’t there
But things the rest of you couldn’t bear?
Were those dangers truly unreal?
Or was it you who couldn’t feel?
Little me he protected
Since long before my birth
And when society rejected
I could see his worth
Many fled, not ready to understand
A man who chased the stars
Didn’t care that they left scars
And so I, a child, did take his hand
My mother, his friend, left me in his care
And on those days, such adventures we did share!
I was not his Dulcinea, no, but a willing Sancho
Sticks were swords, our armor but a poncho!
Alas I did begin to grow and leave
What others called childish folly behind
But my adoration he would still receive
Our lives were so very intertwined
As a new chapter in my story would soon begin
Not once did I fathom I’d lose such dear kin
We stayed, my mother and I, as long as we could
At his bedside and spoke of whatever we would
And then one day as we said good bye
I knew I’d not see him again before he’d die
Of course, the feelings I did deny
And so passed our beloved Don Quixote
Who defended us from giants we could not see
He did not get to see the flower bloom
Of the seed he’d known from the womb
In his name I will live my life
Not be content as some housewife
I cannot exist as others would
But I will be as only I could
And so I spend my every day
Living life in such a way
Chasing the stars and moon alike
Remembering like riding a bike
Monsters hear me now and tremble
For the man I may resemble
For the title that suited him
I will take it on a whim
Now I will charge the giants atop the hill
And chase the sky until I’ve had my fill
For as before it was he
I shall take the mantle
Of Don Quixote.
I wonder how many times his might saved me
Oh, of our modern day Don Quixote
When you saw a simple windmill
Into battle he would ride
For he spied a wicked giant
With arms spread open wide
Yet when he fell back down that hill
Society was less compliant
People are so quick to judge
To disregard what “cannot be”
They did hold a grudge
So when he insisted he could see
They merely called him crazy
But what if
It wasn’t he saw things that weren’t there
But things the rest of you couldn’t bear?
Were those dangers truly unreal?
Or was it you who couldn’t feel?
Little me he protected
Since long before my birth
And when society rejected
I could see his worth
Many fled, not ready to understand
A man who chased the stars
Didn’t care that they left scars
And so I, a child, did take his hand
My mother, his friend, left me in his care
And on those days, such adventures we did share!
I was not his Dulcinea, no, but a willing Sancho
Sticks were swords, our armor but a poncho!
Alas I did begin to grow and leave
What others called childish folly behind
But my adoration he would still receive
Our lives were so very intertwined
As a new chapter in my story would soon begin
Not once did I fathom I’d lose such dear kin
We stayed, my mother and I, as long as we could
At his bedside and spoke of whatever we would
And then one day as we said good bye
I knew I’d not see him again before he’d die
Of course, the feelings I did deny
And so passed our beloved Don Quixote
Who defended us from giants we could not see
He did not get to see the flower bloom
Of the seed he’d known from the womb
In his name I will live my life
Not be content as some housewife
I cannot exist as others would
But I will be as only I could
And so I spend my every day
Living life in such a way
Chasing the stars and moon alike
Remembering like riding a bike
Monsters hear me now and tremble
For the man I may resemble
For the title that suited him
I will take it on a whim
Now I will charge the giants atop the hill
And chase the sky until I’ve had my fill
For as before it was he
I shall take the mantle
Of Don Quixote.
Empty Eyes
General Falcon was the master tactician who had brought the Avian Nation to victory in their Conquest of the Western Lands. He had even been the one to slay the King of the Coast, the last unconquered region. He’d left the nation without a ruler and led his forces to take the exotic east. It was supposed to be the last he heard of the nation known as the ‘End of the World’ until he returned as King of the Known. Then he would lead a Fleet across the ocean to find out if there was more land to conquer. However he received rather disturbing news from a scout.
The Queen of the End had risen up and rallied the people. Falcon hadn’t broken the people’s will like he intended. The nation still had a Monarch, a symbol, to follow and a resistance of a few hundred strong formed to follow her into battle.
Reports of the Queen of the End's activity made Falcon lose his appetite for dinner, the bread untouched on its plate. When her small army of Rebels found an Avian Colony on their lands, they decimated it. All were slaughtered, and though the Queen demanded children be spared the brutality of quartering, the limbs of adults lined the rivers of blood the Rebellion left in its wake. The Queen's actions abandoned all civility normally found in war, but then, he’d made the Queen watch as he did so himself. As he read the reports, Falcon’s mind drifted to the day he’d accepted the invitation to the Castle at the End of the World.
The King had opened peace talks with the hopes of avoiding war. Instead Falcon had looked into his eyes of what he considered a weak man as he ran him through on the blade of his sword. The Queen had moved to avenge him, but Falcon’s guards had knocked her back and beaten her within an inch of life. Of course the attack had angered Falcon, and so he invited his men to indulge in the Spoils of war, including the two Maiden Princesses. The Queen had been forced to watch as her eldest tried to fight off Falcon’s personal guard to protect her younger sister. She’d only backed down when Falcon threatened to kill the youngest. As he left the three women to violation at the hands of his men, Falcon had noticed the fury in the Queen’s eyes. What had terrified him however was the oldest daughter as her sister screamed. There was no despair, fear, rage, or any emotion in her eyes. He had taken it mean she’d resigned to her fate, but those empty eyes disturbed him more then any war crime he'd witnessed.
“Damn it, I need to focus!”
Falcon swore as he sat in the wooden seat beside the table. It was well crafted and sturdy, another spoil of war claimed from the castle that day. Falcon’s army, the entire fighting force of the Avian Nation, was returning to the land that should not have offered resistance. The next day his troops would surround the meager rebellion from the End of the World, and crush it. This time he would not leave a soul alive. There would be no one left to rise up against the Avian Nation, and it would serve as a lesson to any other people who had the idea to resist their control.
Yet everywhere Falcon looked all he saw were the Queen’s furious eyes, judging his every action.
“Wine!” He cried out and waved his hand to motion in the serving girl outside. The moment seemed too long as she entered carrying the pitcher of wine and a goblet on a tray. Like all the servants that traveled with the army, she faced the ground respectfully. She was taking much to long and he growled before glaring at her.
“Hurry it up!” He snapped, “I’ll have you flogged for this insolence!”
The serving girl said nothing in response, out of fear he concluded, and placed the goblet on the table beside him before pouring the red liquid in. Only when Falcon reached for it did he realize his hand was shaking. He swore once more and shook his head before taking a long swig. He turned back to the girl with a raised eyebrow.
“Is there something else you’re wanting? Do you intend to offer me relief or-” Falcon’s words were cut off when he felt his throat clench and he began to cough. One of his hands moved to his throat and it took a moment for him to realize the red stain on the reports was his own blood.
“Poison?” He gasped as he clenched the goblet and stared at the red liquid as he wheezed, desperate to breathe.
“Yes.” This was the first word the serving girl had spoken as she moved to the other side of the table. “From the End of the World.”
Falcon looked up weakly and stared in horror as she picked up the knife from his abandoned meal. The girl’s hair was burning orange like those from the far west coast. It wasn’t that this girl was from the End that scared him. It was her brilliant green eyes. They were eyes he’d seen once before, for they were eyes that had haunted him. Eyes of a girl who’d watched him murder her father, nearly kill her mother, and leave her and her sister to his men’s urges.
“Y-You!” Falcon stammered as the girl-circled chair. He did not like it when she left his line of sight.
“Me.” The eldest Princess of the End replied. “This was my father’s favorite chair, you know.”
“Take it!” Falcon wheezed, afraid for his life as he gasped for breath. “Take whatever you want!”
“Here I was scared of you, the mighty General Falcon.” She sighed. “I know tomorrow you intend to wipe out the Rebellion and make an example of my mother. The problem is my sister hasn’t recovered from what your men did to her. Her mind isn’t hers anymore. If something happens to our mother on top of whatever fate awaits us?” He heard her sharp intake of breathe as she walked back around the chair. “I failed to protect her once. I won’t again. This conflict will not make it to the battlefield tomorrow. It ends tonight.”
It occurred to Falcon what his mistake was as the Princess of the End moved toward him. Her eyes had not been empty for lack of emotion. She didn’t consider him worthy to see any feeling she had. He was not worth her rage, despair, or even her fear. It was not vacancy or blind acceptance in her eyes, but dismissal. In that last moment he realized the reason her empty eyes had disturbed him so was because he had not understood their meaning.
The last thing Falcon saw as the Princess he’d so wronged slit his throat was her eyes. Those shining green, ever empty eyes that had haunted him for so long, flickered with emotion upon seeing the life fade from his. Relief.
The Queen of the End had risen up and rallied the people. Falcon hadn’t broken the people’s will like he intended. The nation still had a Monarch, a symbol, to follow and a resistance of a few hundred strong formed to follow her into battle.
Reports of the Queen of the End's activity made Falcon lose his appetite for dinner, the bread untouched on its plate. When her small army of Rebels found an Avian Colony on their lands, they decimated it. All were slaughtered, and though the Queen demanded children be spared the brutality of quartering, the limbs of adults lined the rivers of blood the Rebellion left in its wake. The Queen's actions abandoned all civility normally found in war, but then, he’d made the Queen watch as he did so himself. As he read the reports, Falcon’s mind drifted to the day he’d accepted the invitation to the Castle at the End of the World.
The King had opened peace talks with the hopes of avoiding war. Instead Falcon had looked into his eyes of what he considered a weak man as he ran him through on the blade of his sword. The Queen had moved to avenge him, but Falcon’s guards had knocked her back and beaten her within an inch of life. Of course the attack had angered Falcon, and so he invited his men to indulge in the Spoils of war, including the two Maiden Princesses. The Queen had been forced to watch as her eldest tried to fight off Falcon’s personal guard to protect her younger sister. She’d only backed down when Falcon threatened to kill the youngest. As he left the three women to violation at the hands of his men, Falcon had noticed the fury in the Queen’s eyes. What had terrified him however was the oldest daughter as her sister screamed. There was no despair, fear, rage, or any emotion in her eyes. He had taken it mean she’d resigned to her fate, but those empty eyes disturbed him more then any war crime he'd witnessed.
“Damn it, I need to focus!”
Falcon swore as he sat in the wooden seat beside the table. It was well crafted and sturdy, another spoil of war claimed from the castle that day. Falcon’s army, the entire fighting force of the Avian Nation, was returning to the land that should not have offered resistance. The next day his troops would surround the meager rebellion from the End of the World, and crush it. This time he would not leave a soul alive. There would be no one left to rise up against the Avian Nation, and it would serve as a lesson to any other people who had the idea to resist their control.
Yet everywhere Falcon looked all he saw were the Queen’s furious eyes, judging his every action.
“Wine!” He cried out and waved his hand to motion in the serving girl outside. The moment seemed too long as she entered carrying the pitcher of wine and a goblet on a tray. Like all the servants that traveled with the army, she faced the ground respectfully. She was taking much to long and he growled before glaring at her.
“Hurry it up!” He snapped, “I’ll have you flogged for this insolence!”
The serving girl said nothing in response, out of fear he concluded, and placed the goblet on the table beside him before pouring the red liquid in. Only when Falcon reached for it did he realize his hand was shaking. He swore once more and shook his head before taking a long swig. He turned back to the girl with a raised eyebrow.
“Is there something else you’re wanting? Do you intend to offer me relief or-” Falcon’s words were cut off when he felt his throat clench and he began to cough. One of his hands moved to his throat and it took a moment for him to realize the red stain on the reports was his own blood.
“Poison?” He gasped as he clenched the goblet and stared at the red liquid as he wheezed, desperate to breathe.
“Yes.” This was the first word the serving girl had spoken as she moved to the other side of the table. “From the End of the World.”
Falcon looked up weakly and stared in horror as she picked up the knife from his abandoned meal. The girl’s hair was burning orange like those from the far west coast. It wasn’t that this girl was from the End that scared him. It was her brilliant green eyes. They were eyes he’d seen once before, for they were eyes that had haunted him. Eyes of a girl who’d watched him murder her father, nearly kill her mother, and leave her and her sister to his men’s urges.
“Y-You!” Falcon stammered as the girl-circled chair. He did not like it when she left his line of sight.
“Me.” The eldest Princess of the End replied. “This was my father’s favorite chair, you know.”
“Take it!” Falcon wheezed, afraid for his life as he gasped for breath. “Take whatever you want!”
“Here I was scared of you, the mighty General Falcon.” She sighed. “I know tomorrow you intend to wipe out the Rebellion and make an example of my mother. The problem is my sister hasn’t recovered from what your men did to her. Her mind isn’t hers anymore. If something happens to our mother on top of whatever fate awaits us?” He heard her sharp intake of breathe as she walked back around the chair. “I failed to protect her once. I won’t again. This conflict will not make it to the battlefield tomorrow. It ends tonight.”
It occurred to Falcon what his mistake was as the Princess of the End moved toward him. Her eyes had not been empty for lack of emotion. She didn’t consider him worthy to see any feeling she had. He was not worth her rage, despair, or even her fear. It was not vacancy or blind acceptance in her eyes, but dismissal. In that last moment he realized the reason her empty eyes had disturbed him so was because he had not understood their meaning.
The last thing Falcon saw as the Princess he’d so wronged slit his throat was her eyes. Those shining green, ever empty eyes that had haunted him for so long, flickered with emotion upon seeing the life fade from his. Relief.
The Alumni
"Miss Sigfried?"
"Hm?"
Eldeen Sigfried looked up over her laptop as her secretary approached. The writer was quite relaxed in her office (which she'd gotten explicitly to write in), wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top, denim jacket tossed on the desk begind her. She was typing up a screen play now that rumors of her book-Two Pudgy Princesses-was being turned into a movie and one of the major movie companies had made a bit. She did not want her story destroyed like some writers let their books get transformed in the filming process.
"Sally, I told you not to bother me..."
"Unless Nathan Fillion was at the door, it was an emergency, or there was a call from one of the people or businesses on your list. Well, MCCC is on the phone."
"MCCC?" Eldeen paused and shut her laptop, a smirk playing on her lips. "It's been too long."
-----
Mercy Capital Community College was not exactly chose. When Eldeen graduated from High School, it was the closest college and since she didn't have her license yet, that was a major benefit. She'd continue living at home for the three years she'd spend obtaining her two year degree.
Eldeen was wonderful at academics. That was her main talent other then writing. She'd graduated from High School an Honors student with AP classes, 1600 of 2400 SATS (though most people only heard the 1600), and scholarship student with a great GPA. That first day as she stepped into a college class she was excited-even happy to be there...
-----
"Mr Sheldon? Dean of Liberal Arts?"
Eldeen laughed as she spun in her office chair, holding the phone as she spoke.
"Of course I remember you. I came to you whenever I had academic issues. So, what's the nature of this cal?"
"Well, Miss Sigfried, we have an open house coming up. The staff and I were wondering if you'd come speak to some of the prospective students."
"Well..." Eldeen moved through her calender, even though for this she'd reschedule anything, "What's the date?"
"August twenty-third at five pm." Ah. She had an interview with a reporter from a major website. She paused, then grinned.
"I'll be there." Eldeen stated with a laugh.
"Oh, thank you Miss Sigfried."
"Oh, no." Eldeen chuckled, "Thank you."
Once he'd hung up she dialed another sequence on the phone.
"Hey Flynn. It's me. Listen, I don't suppose I'd could persuade you to head to this little college for the interview..."
-----
The day of the open house arrived and the staff was buzzng, and chattering the loudest were Eldeen's past professors in English and Literature.
"Did you read her book?" Mr. Holmes asked as he helped with the banner. He'd taught her English 102.
"Did I ever! It was wonderful!" Mrs Emerson had taught her Children's Literature.
"A great fantasy piece." Professor Johnson added as he helped set up the refreshments. He'd taught her fantasy literature one summer.
"And so good for the generation with body issues." Mrs. Emerson added.
"But does anyone remember why she took that time off?" Mr. Holmes looked up at them. "I remember she was rather upset when she told me she couldn't make the honors class I invited her too..."
"You know, I really can't remember." Professor Johnson admitted.
"I think it had to do with her GPA." Mrs Emerson admitted. "She emailed me for advice involving issues with another course. Wanted to withdraw and couldn't. I know before hand she intended to continue her education after getting an AA, not take time and get published"
"I remember that!" Mr. Holmes exclaimed. "The poor girl-the professor had told her not to drop as I recall, just a week before the withdrawal date."
"Then denied it. Ringing a vague bell." Professor Johnson nodded.
But the conversation was dropped suddenly, for at the moment Dean Sheldon entered, motioning around the cafeteria as Eldeen followed him inside. She looked almost innocent in a blue dress with puffed sleeves, a black hairband holding back her long hair. A somewhat bored looking man was following her, a camcorder in hand. All three teachers ran over and hugged her with shouts of delight.
Dean Sheldon noticed her response to the three English teachers was far warmer then her reaction to him. He could have ignored it, except the reporter she'd brought with her mentioned it.
"Geeze, what you do to piss her off?"
"Nothing. I simply didn't teach her at any point." He snapped before making for the podeum. No reason to be fresh. The youth, these days...
About an hour later the potential students who'd graduated high school just a few months earlier poured in. They came with parents for support and grandparents who wanted to see what sort of education they'd be paying for. Almost all of these students had registered already, and it lookd like a good number. Dean Sheldon liked that. They might be able to build another wing yet.
He glanced back to where Eldeen was chattering with the other invited guest-Jared, another alumni, who'd come back from ther marines. It seems they'd shared a class once-English, naturally-and were hitting it off. When Eldeen saw the Dean looking over she grinned and waved. After he gave a brief intro, it would be her turn to speak.
Dean Sheldon chuckled as the clock ticked six and he adjusted the microphone.
"Attention!" He boomed. "And welcome, all of you to Mercy Capital Community College! Here you'll find a wide variety of directions available to you-education, arts, mather, science, technological, culinary, and medical orientated degrees await you! We have a wide variety of clubs and teams among other extracurricular activities available to our students, a safe campus, and a faculty more then happy to help you with whatever your problem may be!" He paused and allowed for applause, beaming. "But I know you're all bored of me chatting up our school. Here, to tell you about her experience at our school, is Eldeen Sigfried!"
Alright, it irked the Dean that she got a far better applause then he did. She was a guest speaker and alumni though, her purpose was to attract attention to the college.
Eldeen beamed at Dean as he sat down beside Jared and Flynn, and he could have sworn she smirked for a moment. Then she smiled to the students-to-be and exhaled.
"Well I'll take it I have a few readers in the audience. Thank you for that. For those of you who haven't read, well, I fancy it's good tale." She beamed. "Now, I was a brilliant student when I came out of High School. And of you here on scholarships?"
Quite a few hands went up and Eldeen laughed again.
"Alright. How many of you are good students?" A different series of hands went up.
"How many of you want to suceed in life?" Another batch of hands. Eldeen laughed lightly and gestured for them to settle down.
"Then I'm here to tell you..." Her face became cold and still, "Don't go here."
The Dean tensed and moved to jump up and stop her. What was happening? Then he felt the firm hand of a marine on his shoulder.
"Let her speak." Jared spoke and his tone ushered a warning if he didn't. Dean Sheldon swallowed before watchin in horror.
"The staff, the teachers, are wonderful." Eldeen admitted. "Most of them are, anyway. They will work with you and help you long after you've left their class. That accounts for..eighty percent of the staff, give or take." Her frown formed. "But then there's the other twenty. They're the ones who won't admit if they're at fault, the ones who will leave you to drown, the ones who will shatter your confidence."
Dean Sheldon became aware of Eldeen's cold eyes on him as he tried to remember what he'd done to upset her.
"There is no coming back from such a blow, when the teachers you trusted betray you!" Eldeen snapped. "When the faculty you were told would help you tells you there is nothing they can do because it's not the norm! And while it has been ten years since I graduated with an A.A., from what I've seen more of the twenty percent who abandoned students remains insteady of the eighty percent who did everything in their power to help! So withdraw now, get your money back! I promise everyone who intended to come here this Fall an all costs scholarship to the school of their choosing through an A.A., no matter what their GPA is!"
As Eldeen stepped down from the podeum the crowd exploded into shouting and chatter. She was bombared by parents. Eldeen calmly talked to each and everyone, recording information to keep her promise (which she could, given how well her book had done), and not once could Dean Sheldon figure out why she was so hostile.
-----
"Why did you destroy us?"
Eldeen raised an eyebrow at Dean Sheldon as the last family left.
"Why did you have to destroy me?" She replied.
"I did no such thing!"
"Math 108. Think really hard. Eleven years ago." Eldeen replied, eyes narrowing.
"I..." Dean Sheldon paled suddenly.
-----
"I just want to withdraw! My professor told me not to and I didn't have time to consider if it wasn't the right choice before the deadline!"
A younger Eldeen sat in the office of the Dean of Liberal Arts. She was still pudgy then, in a baggy tee shirts and jeans, with scabs oon her face.
"You have a responsibility..."
"So does my professor!"
"There was a deadline, Miss Sigfried. In the real world deadlines must be followed and your actions of consequences. Your professor said he directed you neither to stay in class or drop."
"That's a lie!" Eldeen was in tears by then. "He told me not to drop the course! He told me!"
"I'm sorry, but why should we bend the rules for you?"
"Because it's not my fault!" She protested. "I can't believe you'll allow a professor to send me in a paper boat but I can get a life preserver when it starts sinking!"
"I'm sorry you see it that way."
-----
"Remember yet?" Eldeen asked as the Dean paled.
"Ah...come now, be reasonable."
"I am." Eldeen replied. "I have informed the Executive Dean I will make amends and donations if the two people who wronged me-by refusing to do something as simple as give me a W-are removed from staff. Since the professor from the course was adjunct he's long gone. That leaves you. The second your office is empty and you are removed from the faculty, the school gets a nice check and a few scholarship promises of their own."
"Come on now, Miss Siegfried!" Sheldon cried out. Eldeen frowned at him, eyes narrow, and face cold.
"This is the real world, Mr. Sheldon." Eldeen stated, turning to leave. "Your actions have consequences."
-----
"That was totally worth the transport costs."
Flynn, Jared, and Eldeen had gone out for drinks after they'd left the school. Eldeen laughed and shook her head.
"Flynn, I told you I'd pay for all the trouble."
"Oh hell now. I can charge that, and tonight's drinks, to the site."
"Totally ballsy, Eldeen." Jared laughed. "I don't think I could have imagined you pulling that stunt in your first semester."
"I was tired of them letting kids fall through the cracks." Eldeen exhaled as she sipped her drink. "Thing is once they let you fall down, they lose track of you, and they don't see you climbing back up."
Flynn grinned at her as he finished his drink.
"With a quote like that...its a wrap!"
"Hm?"
Eldeen Sigfried looked up over her laptop as her secretary approached. The writer was quite relaxed in her office (which she'd gotten explicitly to write in), wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top, denim jacket tossed on the desk begind her. She was typing up a screen play now that rumors of her book-Two Pudgy Princesses-was being turned into a movie and one of the major movie companies had made a bit. She did not want her story destroyed like some writers let their books get transformed in the filming process.
"Sally, I told you not to bother me..."
"Unless Nathan Fillion was at the door, it was an emergency, or there was a call from one of the people or businesses on your list. Well, MCCC is on the phone."
"MCCC?" Eldeen paused and shut her laptop, a smirk playing on her lips. "It's been too long."
-----
Mercy Capital Community College was not exactly chose. When Eldeen graduated from High School, it was the closest college and since she didn't have her license yet, that was a major benefit. She'd continue living at home for the three years she'd spend obtaining her two year degree.
Eldeen was wonderful at academics. That was her main talent other then writing. She'd graduated from High School an Honors student with AP classes, 1600 of 2400 SATS (though most people only heard the 1600), and scholarship student with a great GPA. That first day as she stepped into a college class she was excited-even happy to be there...
-----
"Mr Sheldon? Dean of Liberal Arts?"
Eldeen laughed as she spun in her office chair, holding the phone as she spoke.
"Of course I remember you. I came to you whenever I had academic issues. So, what's the nature of this cal?"
"Well, Miss Sigfried, we have an open house coming up. The staff and I were wondering if you'd come speak to some of the prospective students."
"Well..." Eldeen moved through her calender, even though for this she'd reschedule anything, "What's the date?"
"August twenty-third at five pm." Ah. She had an interview with a reporter from a major website. She paused, then grinned.
"I'll be there." Eldeen stated with a laugh.
"Oh, thank you Miss Sigfried."
"Oh, no." Eldeen chuckled, "Thank you."
Once he'd hung up she dialed another sequence on the phone.
"Hey Flynn. It's me. Listen, I don't suppose I'd could persuade you to head to this little college for the interview..."
-----
The day of the open house arrived and the staff was buzzng, and chattering the loudest were Eldeen's past professors in English and Literature.
"Did you read her book?" Mr. Holmes asked as he helped with the banner. He'd taught her English 102.
"Did I ever! It was wonderful!" Mrs Emerson had taught her Children's Literature.
"A great fantasy piece." Professor Johnson added as he helped set up the refreshments. He'd taught her fantasy literature one summer.
"And so good for the generation with body issues." Mrs. Emerson added.
"But does anyone remember why she took that time off?" Mr. Holmes looked up at them. "I remember she was rather upset when she told me she couldn't make the honors class I invited her too..."
"You know, I really can't remember." Professor Johnson admitted.
"I think it had to do with her GPA." Mrs Emerson admitted. "She emailed me for advice involving issues with another course. Wanted to withdraw and couldn't. I know before hand she intended to continue her education after getting an AA, not take time and get published"
"I remember that!" Mr. Holmes exclaimed. "The poor girl-the professor had told her not to drop as I recall, just a week before the withdrawal date."
"Then denied it. Ringing a vague bell." Professor Johnson nodded.
But the conversation was dropped suddenly, for at the moment Dean Sheldon entered, motioning around the cafeteria as Eldeen followed him inside. She looked almost innocent in a blue dress with puffed sleeves, a black hairband holding back her long hair. A somewhat bored looking man was following her, a camcorder in hand. All three teachers ran over and hugged her with shouts of delight.
Dean Sheldon noticed her response to the three English teachers was far warmer then her reaction to him. He could have ignored it, except the reporter she'd brought with her mentioned it.
"Geeze, what you do to piss her off?"
"Nothing. I simply didn't teach her at any point." He snapped before making for the podeum. No reason to be fresh. The youth, these days...
About an hour later the potential students who'd graduated high school just a few months earlier poured in. They came with parents for support and grandparents who wanted to see what sort of education they'd be paying for. Almost all of these students had registered already, and it lookd like a good number. Dean Sheldon liked that. They might be able to build another wing yet.
He glanced back to where Eldeen was chattering with the other invited guest-Jared, another alumni, who'd come back from ther marines. It seems they'd shared a class once-English, naturally-and were hitting it off. When Eldeen saw the Dean looking over she grinned and waved. After he gave a brief intro, it would be her turn to speak.
Dean Sheldon chuckled as the clock ticked six and he adjusted the microphone.
"Attention!" He boomed. "And welcome, all of you to Mercy Capital Community College! Here you'll find a wide variety of directions available to you-education, arts, mather, science, technological, culinary, and medical orientated degrees await you! We have a wide variety of clubs and teams among other extracurricular activities available to our students, a safe campus, and a faculty more then happy to help you with whatever your problem may be!" He paused and allowed for applause, beaming. "But I know you're all bored of me chatting up our school. Here, to tell you about her experience at our school, is Eldeen Sigfried!"
Alright, it irked the Dean that she got a far better applause then he did. She was a guest speaker and alumni though, her purpose was to attract attention to the college.
Eldeen beamed at Dean as he sat down beside Jared and Flynn, and he could have sworn she smirked for a moment. Then she smiled to the students-to-be and exhaled.
"Well I'll take it I have a few readers in the audience. Thank you for that. For those of you who haven't read, well, I fancy it's good tale." She beamed. "Now, I was a brilliant student when I came out of High School. And of you here on scholarships?"
Quite a few hands went up and Eldeen laughed again.
"Alright. How many of you are good students?" A different series of hands went up.
"How many of you want to suceed in life?" Another batch of hands. Eldeen laughed lightly and gestured for them to settle down.
"Then I'm here to tell you..." Her face became cold and still, "Don't go here."
The Dean tensed and moved to jump up and stop her. What was happening? Then he felt the firm hand of a marine on his shoulder.
"Let her speak." Jared spoke and his tone ushered a warning if he didn't. Dean Sheldon swallowed before watchin in horror.
"The staff, the teachers, are wonderful." Eldeen admitted. "Most of them are, anyway. They will work with you and help you long after you've left their class. That accounts for..eighty percent of the staff, give or take." Her frown formed. "But then there's the other twenty. They're the ones who won't admit if they're at fault, the ones who will leave you to drown, the ones who will shatter your confidence."
Dean Sheldon became aware of Eldeen's cold eyes on him as he tried to remember what he'd done to upset her.
"There is no coming back from such a blow, when the teachers you trusted betray you!" Eldeen snapped. "When the faculty you were told would help you tells you there is nothing they can do because it's not the norm! And while it has been ten years since I graduated with an A.A., from what I've seen more of the twenty percent who abandoned students remains insteady of the eighty percent who did everything in their power to help! So withdraw now, get your money back! I promise everyone who intended to come here this Fall an all costs scholarship to the school of their choosing through an A.A., no matter what their GPA is!"
As Eldeen stepped down from the podeum the crowd exploded into shouting and chatter. She was bombared by parents. Eldeen calmly talked to each and everyone, recording information to keep her promise (which she could, given how well her book had done), and not once could Dean Sheldon figure out why she was so hostile.
-----
"Why did you destroy us?"
Eldeen raised an eyebrow at Dean Sheldon as the last family left.
"Why did you have to destroy me?" She replied.
"I did no such thing!"
"Math 108. Think really hard. Eleven years ago." Eldeen replied, eyes narrowing.
"I..." Dean Sheldon paled suddenly.
-----
"I just want to withdraw! My professor told me not to and I didn't have time to consider if it wasn't the right choice before the deadline!"
A younger Eldeen sat in the office of the Dean of Liberal Arts. She was still pudgy then, in a baggy tee shirts and jeans, with scabs oon her face.
"You have a responsibility..."
"So does my professor!"
"There was a deadline, Miss Sigfried. In the real world deadlines must be followed and your actions of consequences. Your professor said he directed you neither to stay in class or drop."
"That's a lie!" Eldeen was in tears by then. "He told me not to drop the course! He told me!"
"I'm sorry, but why should we bend the rules for you?"
"Because it's not my fault!" She protested. "I can't believe you'll allow a professor to send me in a paper boat but I can get a life preserver when it starts sinking!"
"I'm sorry you see it that way."
-----
"Remember yet?" Eldeen asked as the Dean paled.
"Ah...come now, be reasonable."
"I am." Eldeen replied. "I have informed the Executive Dean I will make amends and donations if the two people who wronged me-by refusing to do something as simple as give me a W-are removed from staff. Since the professor from the course was adjunct he's long gone. That leaves you. The second your office is empty and you are removed from the faculty, the school gets a nice check and a few scholarship promises of their own."
"Come on now, Miss Siegfried!" Sheldon cried out. Eldeen frowned at him, eyes narrow, and face cold.
"This is the real world, Mr. Sheldon." Eldeen stated, turning to leave. "Your actions have consequences."
-----
"That was totally worth the transport costs."
Flynn, Jared, and Eldeen had gone out for drinks after they'd left the school. Eldeen laughed and shook her head.
"Flynn, I told you I'd pay for all the trouble."
"Oh hell now. I can charge that, and tonight's drinks, to the site."
"Totally ballsy, Eldeen." Jared laughed. "I don't think I could have imagined you pulling that stunt in your first semester."
"I was tired of them letting kids fall through the cracks." Eldeen exhaled as she sipped her drink. "Thing is once they let you fall down, they lose track of you, and they don't see you climbing back up."
Flynn grinned at her as he finished his drink.
"With a quote like that...its a wrap!"
Harlequin Heartbreak-A Sample Short Story
-->
Will you stay by my side?
Or will you fade like the
tide?
Dawn
arrived, sunlight sprinkling through the window. Shirley’s eyes fluttered open
and she smiled at the sleeping figure beside her. It had been a year since
Thomas’s father had died, and he became King, promptly abolishing the feudal
system of the Allodra Kingdom. Moments after, before the land even had time to
figure out what that meant, he’d pulled her-his long time friend and the Court
Jester-to the side, dropped on one knee and proposed to her. They had yet to
announce the engagement.
Since
then she’d become his Champion, as they traveled together with Cedric. He was
like a brother to Shirley, and Champion to the public eye. To hide her identity
she wore full armor. The three of them had been traveling across the land as
Thomas introduced himself to all of the nearby rulers. The most difficult
aspect of the trip was that many of them still lived by feudal systems. To
them, Shirley was simply a servant, the King’s Fool.
They
were in such a land, Bevel, that morning. It hadn’t been a pleasant visit, and
Shirley knew Thomas was fairly unhappy. He would be going on a boar hunt with
the King, Prince, and Princess that afternoon. Cedric would join them, so no
one would question the absence of the King’s Champion. In reality, Shirley
would be following the hunting party to be sure of no threats that might
follow.
“Why are you
smiling…?”
Shirley
beamed as Thomas brushed hair away from her face. His eyes were full of love
for her.
“While the man I
love has a horrible day ahead, I will be able to cheer him up when he returns.”
“Is that so?” A knock on the door interrupted them.
“If you’re late to breakfast,” Cedric’s voice spoke, “They’ll come looking. If Shirley is in there, it’d be difficult to explain why you’re all naked with your fool!”
“Is that so?” A knock on the door interrupted them.
“If you’re late to breakfast,” Cedric’s voice spoke, “They’ll come looking. If Shirley is in there, it’d be difficult to explain why you’re all naked with your fool!”
-
Shirley’s
advance through the forest was interrupted when she found herself bent over a
stump retching. She’d barely looked up as the Crown Prince Ward rode through
the brush. From their arrival there had been something in his eyes Shirley
didn’t like. It seemed he’d forgotten about the boar in favor of new prey. In
better shape she’d have been able to fight him off.
Shirley
was able to keep him at bay until Thomas rode into the clearing and pulled him
off. They wrestled on the ground as she scrambled up. Ward’s hands were around
Thomas’s neck and she reacted to protect her king. There she stood in the
noonday sun holding a blood soaked knife. Ward was dead and Thomas had managed
to get him off.
“What have I done?” Shirley whispered as Thomas rushed to her side.
“What have I done?” Shirley whispered as Thomas rushed to her side.
“You did it to
save me.” He whispered, holding her face in his hands and kissed her. “I’ll do
what I have to protect you.”
-
The
announcement was at Dusk. Cedric was at Shirley’s side, squeezing her hand
tightly. The King of Bevel was standing on his balcony to the mass of people in
the courtyard. Most of them were lords and ladies, except for Shirley and her
surrogate brother. He was bemoaning the loss of his son who had tragically
perished during the hunt, kissed by an assassin in the woods.
“But there is light in this dark time,” He proclaimed, “A union of this land and Allondra, of our Princess Sarah and King Thomas!”
“But there is light in this dark time,” He proclaimed, “A union of this land and Allondra, of our Princess Sarah and King Thomas!”
Thomas
didn’t meet Shirley’s eyes, but she knew it wasn’t a choice. In order to avoid
telling them that she’d killed their prince, he’d made up a story about an
assassin. It was suspicious, so the only way to avoid war was either exposure
or an arranged marriage to keep the peace. Even though Ward had been trying to
assault, even violate, Shirley, she was a peasant in Bevel and her life would
be forfeit for killing their Crown Prince. The only way for Shirley to live was
for Thomas to surrender his freedom to be with her.
Shirley
felt nauseous as her hand rested on her belly. The good news she’d intended to
surprise Thomas with, to make the day better for him, instead weighed heavy on
her heart, an impossible dream.
As we stand in the rubble
of what used to be,
I can't help but wonder if
you'll stay with me.
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