National Novel Writing Month Pt 18

    Pale glowing figures happily bathe in that wonderful pool inviting me to join. I can’t resist and join them. The water is warmer than I last thought but oh so relaxing. The water relaxes me and drains away all my worries. A woman offers me soap and I  happily accept. It has been days since I could bathe properly. One of them even washes my back for me. The kindness of strangers can be striking but wonderful at the same time. Shaking out my hair to wash it as well I am struck by how long it is. I didn’t remember it being so long or full last week. It feels like it has grown at least six inches since I last washed it. The soap softens it. Diving under the water to wash out the soap I relax further, exhilarating in the caress of the water on my skin. The water surrounds me and holds me softly in an embrace. Surfacing I could swear my hair has grown longer still. I must be imagining things. Hair doesn’t grow a foot longer in only a few moments. The stress must be getting to me. The women are smiling and giggling around me but they are not making fun of me they are simply enjoying themselves. There are more women waiting to bathe so I reluctantly leave the pool.

    Someone offers me a large plush towel which I gratefully accept. It is soft, warm, and feels so good on my skin. I can almost taste the softness of the cloth. Shaking out my hair and attempting to brush it with my fingers a comb is offered to me. It is silver, engraved with graceful leaves and set with stones. The teeth are fine and it detangles my hair very nicely. These women are very kind and open to sharing even with a complete stranger like me. Looking for my clothes they are not where I left them. Looking slightly panicked I see them being washed. That is very kind but what am I to wear while they dry? My concern must have been evident on my face because an outfit is offered to me by a beautiful young woman.

The clothing is strange and I have no idea how to wear it. Giggling at my confusion two women help to dress me in a greek style toga. They put jewels and flowers in my hair braiding it and styling it similar to how they are wearing theirs, anoint my skin with scented oils, and drape me in fine jewels. They even put a pair of soft leather boots on my feet. The clothes are more comfortable than I ever imagined them to be. I am warm but not hot and can move freely. The cloth is softer than silk but obviously made from some kind of lightweight cotton. The belt helps to give the dress shape. Seeing my reflection I can hardly believe how beautiful I look. Could that really be me staring back at me?

    Lost in my own reflection I wonder about this strange turn of events. Why does all this feel strange and wrong somehow? What is wrong with me? Why would I be suspicious of such kind people? They are painfully beautiful and have been nothing but kind to me. They have shared with me and even dressed me like them. They have done their best to make me one of them.

    Two women approach me and take my hands while smiling. They beacon me to follow them. A sense of exhilaration flows through me and I join them. We dance to music  can almost hear, but my feet are sure and I am very light on them. Through the beautiful temples and gardens we dance. Winding around the golden columns we dance in the moonlight. The carvings seem to move in time to the music. I can feel the music in my bones but I can’t quite hear it. Even the gowns flutter in time to the music. The sculptures come alive around us as we dance. Others join hands with us forming a beautiful line of dancers extending to infinity. Round and round we spin flowing and fluttering graceful in the moonlight. I have never been so happy in all my life. If only I could live like this forever, then every day would be perfect. The simplicity of breathing cool air and dancing is perfect. I would never want for anything again. Not tiring I dance on through a throne room curtsying gracefully at just the right moment and back out into the courtyard.

    One of the rooms contains a feast. Succulent roast meats make my mouth water. Every kind of bread imaginable is piled up on tables enticing me to try them all. Baked bread fruit sandwiches appear on my plate as if by magic. They are sweet, filling, and very satisfying. I have never tasted something so wonderful in my life. Every bite is different and all are amazing.

    Sitting at a long beautifully decorated table with my plate of delectable delicacies in front of me I smile and can’t wait to dig in. Something catches my eye. I look again and see a scared girl terrified in the moonlight shaking in the corner. She is screaming but no one seems to hear her. Why does no one help her? What does she want? Reluctantly leaving the table I go to her. She is crying so hard that I can’t make out what she is saying. I try to hold her but this only seems to make things worse.

    “Why are you crying little one?” I ask in a soothing voice. She finally looks up at me.

    “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this to happen to you or anyone. Its not your faoult and now it is almost too late.”

    “What is wrong? What is too late?” I ask.

    “You. They have you now and they will keep you, and it is all my fault.”

    “Child no one has me and no one will hurt me. Now come lets eat.”

    “No!” She cries. “You have to run. Run now or you will be trapped here forever.”

    I am confused for a moment. Then I remember the children of the moon. What they looked like and how they danced all night. A bell tolls loudly.

    “Run now!” she screams.

    I turn and run. There are too many people in my way. I can’t get through the sea of bodies. I fight and realize that hands are trying to hold me back. They are too strong and I only slowly make ground. I am desperate to make it out of the room. I barely make it outside when the sunrise hits. The children of the moon melt away in the light. They almost had me. They almost trapped me for eternity. Who was that girl? Was she the first?

    Looking behind me I see a room that had mostly collapsed. All the people are gone. All the food is gone. Everything changed in only a fe moments. A few moments that can change a lifetime. Looking at myself I still have the fine dress on. I am still wearing the jewelry. I still smell of jasmine. My hair is still very long and braided with flowers in it. Some parts of last night live on but most of it has disappeared. Vanished as rays of moonlight in the dawn. I am shocked at how shallow and simple the illusion was and how close it was to working on me. If I had not seen the child I would have never made it out in time.

    I go back to the pool and find it just as I had the day before. The water is still flowing. The bells still ring softly. The pool still appears cool and inviting. At the pools edge are my bags and clothes freshly washed, dried, folded, and waiting for me to wear. Knowing it is a bad idea to steal from gods I take off the fine dress folding it carefully and placing it at the pools edge. On it I carefully place the jewels I am wearing the dress in my clothes.

Taking my bags I turn and quickly leave the room. The draw of the pool is ever increasing and tempting me but I resist the temptation to touch the water as I might not be as fortunate as to escape again.

I walk out of the temple grounds knowing that staying further would be too tempting. I find a stone path leading to the jungle and it eventually breaks up into the foliage. Crashing through the jungle I know why no one lives near that temple. Everyone has been captured and turned into children of the moon.

This must be a thursday. I never did get the hang of thursdays. But is it really a thursday? I look at my watch to check and yes it is a thursday. But something must be wrong. My cast is gone and my watch is showing the wrong year. Where did my cast go? My arm feels fine. I feel fantastic in fact but how could a whole year have passed since I landed on this island? It has only been a few days. Something must be wrong with the watch or did I accidently enter faerieland where a single day is a whole year in our world. Too bad I can’t call the colony and ask without getting blown up.

National Novel Writing Month Pt 17

    Fearing the unknown person living here I back away slowly and critically examine my surroundings closer. With all the fallen stonework, layers of dead leaves, and pieces of temple grounds uprooted it is hard to tell if someone lives here or not. I haven’t found any real signs of human habitation but that doesn’t mean much. They could just be very clever about hiding their traces. As though they don’t want to be found. With the size of the plot and knowing how much someone can eat whoever lives here is somewhere between one and four people. The land would not support more than that. A larger group would eat more food and be more likely to leave more signs of human habitation. Not having come across any domesticated animals I would have to limit the group further as not many of these plants produce much protein.

    It occurs to me that they might be hiding from me for the same reasons I am hiding from them. I don’t know these people, I don’t know why they have come here, and I don’t know what they want. They don’t know that I don’t want to hurt them. They don’t know what I am running from. Hell I don’t even know what I am running from or what I am running toward. What am I doing here? My life has really fallen apart this year and I don’t know where to turn any more.

    The melody of water falling draws me out of the garden. An ancient aqueduct stands tall. The air is cooler here. Green plants grow all around. The water comes in through a single source and is divided several times. Some flows around the space to cool it and then out to the garden to water the plants. Some dribbles onto bells and metal things to make beautiful music. The sound is haunting yet familiar. I listen for a long time and notice that the music changes over time as though playing different songs. The set up is delicate but precise and wonderful all at the same time. There is a great pool in the middle with a mosaic tiled basin. The water is so cool and clear that I can just make out the pink lotus blossoms at the bottom. Kneeling at the pools edge I dip my fingers in and luxuriate in the wonderful coolness of the water. Shivering with the memory of coolness I become lost in an old memory tracing my fingers back and forth through the pool.

I went to the stream often to swim or fish. I would even look for pretty stones, faeries, or gold which are the fantasy quests of children. I was alone much of the time so I would make my own fun. Growing up with a schizophrenic sister I could not trust her to go with me on my childish trips. She would have tried to drown me in the stream or thrown rocks at me in a fit of unknown rage. She was always angry with me and would hurt me badly if she or one of the voices in her head believed that I had wronged her. She would steal my toys, cut up my clothes, and shit in my shoes all for imagined slights. She never was normal.

When I couldn’t take her beating me for no reason any longer I would go to the river. I loved the river. All that water flowing with such purpose. As if each drop was important and traveling somewhere with purpose. I wished I was like the water and knew my purpose. Then I could have gotten away from that awful place to where I belonged. Instead of living where I was afraid to sleep because someone would do something mean to me. I always admired water for that reason and wanted to be like it. My heart ached and yearned to be more like the water. At least the water was always there when I needed someone to talk to. The river was one of few comforts of a hard life. I knew the water would one day take me away from this awful place and to my true love. All I had to do was believe.

The cool grass on the shore was also my friend. I could dry off on it after swimming as I never remembered to bring a towel. The towering trees would shade me so I would not get sunburnt. I love this spot. I was always safe in this spot. No one would ever follow me. No one would ever find me. No one would ever harm me in this spot. Most summer nights I would sleep here as it was more comfortable than my hot unairconditioned room. I wished all places could be like this one safe from harm, safe from ridicule, safe from people who would not understand. No one understood me. Only this spot understood me. Large bodies of water would always make me feel that way. As if I belonged. The water would call me all my life. I could never bring myself to leave the water for long. I would always return thirsty for more, for what a large body of water could give me and nothing else. No drug could match it. No high could out do it. Nothing is better than standing by a large body of water, with a cool breeze on my face, the sun on my skin. I would stand and breathe. That is the only time I would ever feel at peace.

National Novel Writing Month Pt 16

    The statues move in the moonlight glowing a pale blue and dancing to music only they can hear. The gods and goddesses of old are all here and so close I could reach out my hand and touch them. Swirling and twirling in long graceful movements they are beautiful. The artists who carved them did poor imitations of the actual people before me now. Many of those statues were damaged when I saw them in daylight but as if by magic the moonlight has made them whole again. Yet they appear just as solid as I am now. Long robes flutter gracefully as the figures move in an intricate dance I am unfamiliar with but that I feel like I would know if I got up to join in. Looking around I see that the buildings are whole again too, freshly painted, and have gold leaf accents causing them to glow all the more. The stone path is level and un marked. All the towering trees are far back from the temple grounds so as to not interfere with the buildings. Clear cold water is running in groves along the path as though it was designed to do so. It smells so sweet I am tempted to drink some. The ornately carved buildings tower to the heavens once more. Golden pillars stretch high in the air. The carvings tell stories that I do not know. Words are engraved that I can not read. I wish I knew more. None of the statues I encountered during the day are where they once were. All the figures are up and moving around. All the rubble has been cleared. Everything is perfect and glittering in the moonlight. Terrified that if I move this dream might end I sit still and watch the silent figures. All are smiling and some through their heads back laughing wholeheartedly in ecstasy. None of them appear to notice me and continue in their revelry.

    The women all have long braided hair laced with flowers. Stone jewelry practically covers them from head to foot. Chains with stones drape them prettily. Circulets, bracelets, necklaces, and even draping stone laden belts. Something is odd about the stones. All the stones are the same kind of stone. It hits me suddenly that all the jewels are moonstones. Lots and lots of moonstones decorate the figures from head to foot. Are these the legendary children of the moon? Ethereal spirits which come out only in the moonlight and dance. I have heard many legends about them. They can not harm anyone, many can not even interact with you but beware of going anywhere with them or entering their buildings as it all vanishes with moonset. If you stay too long you can be trapped and turned into one of them. Able to only walk the earth in moonlight. There are so many of them as if the entire community was turned on a single night. The first is said to be a young girl who was lost in a forest at night. She was cold, tired, hungry and very beautiful. The moon saw her and took pity on her placing an inviting cottage in front of her. As she was desperate she entered the house finding food, water, a warm fire, and a bed she made herself at home. She was unaware of the danger and stayed too long. By morning she was trapped by the moon forever being one of his people. As she was lonely she came down every night and would trick strangers with her beauty, laughter, or crying and trap them as well. For the moon was jealous of the earth and wanted people to dance upon its surface as well. This is a legend told from a book found outside the moon house. Each bite of food taken in the house allows you to interact more and more with the moon people but it also weakens your resolve to leave. In the end a trapped young man couldn't find the strength within himself to leave so he threw his journal out the front door. A stranger came upon it and kept it for many years. Eventually the book made it into our library.

I wonder which of these moon people came first or if the moon people can move from site to site and dance all over the world. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I take solace in knowing that I am safe from capture by the moon as the piece of ground I am sitting on existed before the moon rose and I do not find myself suddenly inside a building by chance. I do not feel afraid of these moon children. Only curious about them and faintly enchanted by them. Their dancing continues for hours and the are still light on their feet given strength from the moon to keep going. So beautiful and happy that my heart breaks for them. Yet there are worse fates than to be trapped by the moon and dancing nightly happily. Eventually the exhaustion creeps up upon me and I fall back to sleep.

Upon waking I explore the temple grounds. So many great stone structures are all around me. The years have not been kind to the buildings and they are falling down. Many have trees growing out of them with great roots thicker around than my arm. People have been gone from this place for a very long time. Those who danced here once before must have been gone for centuries. My heart aches for those people. I must learn more about them, who they were, and why they turned into moon children. I have only ever known one or two moon children to be out at once not hundreds. There is something here worth investigating and I must learn what it is.

With my wanderings I come across an oddly tended garden. Everywhere else in the temple complex there were no signs of habitation for years yet there is a tended garden flourishing in one of the temple courtyards. All of the plants are edible most are annuals, and all of them are growing in straight rows and are weeded. If someone isn’t here now then someone comes here often.

National Novel Writing Month Pt 15

Our leaders and priests did not come back to us but their buildings did. The great towering castles and vast religious sites do. Maybe this is to help remind us of our mistake and to be humble. Our once proud cobble stone streets are now filled with sand. Our great wondrous buildings that once reached toward the sky are now crumpled and towers jut out at odd angles. So many stones have fallen and lay on the ground but none of us are strong enough to move them. Our city was always so clean, well crafted, and pristine that the rubble on the ground is an insult. Yet we can do nothing to change this. Maybe this too is part of our penance.

A huge obelisk was placed by the gods in the center of the town square. It details our folly, our penance, and what we are to learn. It glows with a pale blue light coming out of the peak. It is bright but cold and we can’t venture too far from it. There is a limit on how far we can swim from the center. We never reach any sort of wall or barrier we just suddenly can’t swim any farther. We are all trapped here and are forced to live out our lives within the barrier created by the obelisk. It has been several weeks and no children have been born and all pregnancies were lost when we dropped below the ocean. Perhaps the gods do not want our population to expand as the obelisk says that we are now immortal. With food readily available no cooking possible, and nothing to import or export few people have anything to do. There is no forging available as we are below water and no fire is available. We have nothing to make and nothing to do but think about what we have done wrong. Eternity will take a very long time to arrive.

The old roads are long since gone and there is nowhere to travel. We were told that if the fire ever went out in the temple that horrible things would happen and they were right. The fire is out and we now live under the ocean forever in the murky depths of the deep. Day and night blend together and there is nothing to break the monotony. We can’t even sing any more. The novelty of swimming wore off quickly. None of the old machines work any more. We have truly lost the favor of the gods. We will never again have the sweet fruit whines, the spiced breads, or wear fine cloth. So much has been lost and it saddens me greatly. The loss of the sun is a trivial thing in comparison to the loss of everything else we once had. How will we go on in the midst of such loss? How do we go on when there is no more purpose to life? We must preserve the knowledge of all the great things as someday someone will come along and be able to right the wrongs and allow us back into the light.

    Waking with a start i hit my head on the ceiling of my escape pod. Rubbing it to dull the pain I wonder why there is no padding there for just this purpose. Then I wonder about how long I have been in here and how much longer I have to go. Where will I end up? How long will I be in a survival situation till help arrives? Looking at the screen in front of me the display points out the time traveled, time remaining, and distance. With ten hours to go I resolve to wait. Touching the screen it comes alive and a friendly looking woman stares back at me. Suddenly she starts speaking. “Thank you for using the Ecos 300 escape pod, the top of the line in escape pods. This vehicle is equipped with engines, power, water, waste disposal, and entertainment to last you a minimum of 3 days or two thousand miles for double occupancy.” Good I have plenty of air and supplies. “So you can escape a shipwreck and reach civilization minimizing the risks of open ocean exposure. This is your orientation video and will cover everything you will need to know to make your stay as comfortable as possible.” She drones on about where the food and bathrooms are located and gives advice on maintaining hygiene in such a confined environment. After a while she stops and I start watching some movie from the video que and eating popcorn as though I was in a personal cinema moving silently under the water. I begin to get lonely and wish for someone to talk to. But a phone was not built into the pod and I have survived worse than loneliness. Eventually I tire of the movies and switch to a video game. This thing is actually equipped with an xbox and some games. Replaying oblivion should help pass the next six hours. But what to play as a mage, a worrier, or a rogue. I choose rogue as I played the other two already. Soon I start stealing everything I can purly because I can.

    Despite the massaging chair below me I eventually stiffen and become sore from lack of movement. I am grateful of landfall. The pod suddenly hits something and some motors strain. I am moving again but more slowly and jerkily. Eventually a loud click is followed by a hiss and the lid opens. Stretching I stand and my back popps a lot as I twist and move to work out the stiffness. Before I step out of the pod I grab my bag. After I am out the lid closes and a compartment opens on the outside releasing a five gallon container of water and a large back pack. Taking both I look back at the ocean and notice tire treads. The pod drove me up on the beach so I wouldn’t get wet or knocked down by the waves.

    The sky is afire in color with either sunrise or sunset I am not sure which. Only time will tell on that front. The pod has sealed itself to look like a rock so I will have to make a shelter if rescue doesn’t come soon. Half an hour later I am sure that it is sunrise and not sunset as the sun has gotten higher in the sky and the sky has brightened. I take out my satellite phone and call Asa telling her all about the crash, the black helicopter, and about how I am stranded on an island and have no idea where I am. She promises my rescue is coming in only a few hours and all I need to do is wait.

    I move all my supplies to the shade about fifty feet from the pod and wait while taking stock of the backpack more out of a desire to do something than concern over supplies. With that done I relax against the bag and wait for rescue.

    An explosion awakens me. Panicked I look around critically. It was the pod. Did the pod blow itself or or did someone blow it up? In a moment of indecision and panic I rip the battery pack out of the satellite phone and back away from the fire. Why would the pod explode? It was still good and could have been cleaned and reused. Blowing it up would be a huge waste. Someone must have blown it up. Someone must be after me. Someone is trying to kill me. The harsh realization slowly dawns on me. I grab my supplies and trudge off into the jungle feeling like a fool. Someone killed my husband and now they are after me. The thought is a sobering one and frightens me but not near as badly as knowing that there is a mole in the colony. I keep walking.

    The air is hot and humid. I am sweating profusely and have no idea how far I have gone or even where ai am going. I suppose it doesn’t really matter where I go. There is obviously a mole in the colony which is why that bomb found me so quickly. No matter how far I run they will stop at nothing to kill me. Scared, tired, hungry, thirsty and my eyes blurry with tears I stop to rest.

    There are water apples in the tree above me and I eat those to help save my supplies. The skin is red and the flesh is white but they are juicy and sweet. I eat my fill and sit on the ground to rest. As I remain silent the jungle around me comes to life. So many different sounds created by unfamiliar animes frightens me but then I remember that they are probably more  afraid of me than I am of them and relax.

    Gathering my things I again move on. The jungle just looks like more and more of the same. To pass the time I try to identify different plants but this game soon tires me. I could easily get lost out here without a compass. So far I have been heading straight into what I think is the center of the island as I have no better idea of what to do. My supplies are heavy but I know I will need all of them and have attached them all to my back.

    As nightfall comes I look around for shelter. I probably should have stopped hours ago to make camp. But I foolishly clung to the vain hope of finding civilization. All I have found is more jungle and disappointment. Seeing something in the distance I stumble on.

    There is a cobblestone road here and there uprooted a bit by the massive trees bordering it. As this is my best bet of finding civilization I follow the road. No matter how old the road is it has to lead somewhere. There must be something at the end of it important enough to have had this road constructed to lead to it. After all who would build such a road for no reason? That would be far too much work for a prank.

    My heart sinks as the road ends at some old stone temples. The buildings are old, very old, and overgrown with brush. Some even have trees growing out of them. The scent of jasmine is in the air and I know that this place is not only old but abandoned. With a heavy heart I find a level piece of ground to make camp for the night.

National Novel Writing Month Pt 14

    The ship slammed hard to the left throwing me against a wall hard. I slump to the floor and try to right myself. Loud buzzing emanates from everywhere and all the lights come on flashing red angry lights. Something is very wrong. A monotoned woman comes on and tells us “The ship is taking on water and the waterproof doors are sealing. Do not be under them as they descend.”

The door to my room is vanishing behind another metal door. I am trapped in here. I have just been sealed in. Not knowing the protocol for this I try not to panic and instead choose to dress for the occasion. As a colony resident I have various clothes which can help me survive almost anything. A set of clothes made of spider silk and silver which can withstand being shot by a gun. The fabric doesn’t stop the force of the bullet but will not puncture so the fabric is pulled tight. This helps to allow you to remove the bullet later while the fabric helps to stop the blood. You also can not stab with a knife through the cloth so you only get a bad bruise. The silver helps to make it so the outfit does not grow bacteria and so can be washed less often. Usually you only need to wash out the salts from sweating. Basically you wash your clothes when they can stand up on their own. I have a dry suit for diving which would keep me warm and dry in the ocean but I wouldn’t want to put it on till I know that we are going down. A rebreather which allows me to breathe underwater for long periods of time. The device extracts oxygen from the water but sometimes that is not enough to support much exertion. I sort out what I need putting electronics into drybags and various useful items onto my belt for easy access. Adding the rebreather and the vial of radiation eating bacteria to the belt I critically examine my clothing. The set of fins might be useful and I place those with the drysuit. Some bamboo undergarments go  on first as those are antibacterial and don’t require much washing. Settling upon the spider silk clothing I put on the long white tunic top with the large billowy sleeves which come to tight cuffs at the writs, the knee length black pleated skirt, black leggings, and knee high boots which fit snugly at the knee. The swimming fins can strap onto the boots easily if needed. Rolling up the paper thin drysuit I put it in my bag. I have a few energy bars and some water in there too.

With my possessions sorted and gathered I look around the room for some indication of what to do in an emergency. I find a guest book and see the angry red letters indicating a chapter on emergencies. It mentions an escape pod located in my  room which I should enter and wait for instructions. Lifting up the mattress I find a small pod which opens for me. Some friendly looking lights come on inviting me inside. There is enough room for two people to lay down side by side within the pod and I load my possessions in the other seat and climb inside. As soon as I lay down the lid of the pod closes and clicks shut.

A screen in front of me comes to life. It is split into a grid of about 10 pieces most of which have faces in them. They are all looking at me but only the captain is speaking. He is talking about how the ship was hit by a torpedo and is taking on water. How everyone should find an escape pod and to launch. That he has programmed the pods to travel to a specific neerbye island and that we will be rescued there. The island is only about eighteen hours away and the pods have enough supplies for three days. Feeling a bit apprehensive about an eighteen hour trip alone in a pod I try to voice my objection but no one seems to hear me. There must be some button I need to press in order to be heard. Then came the most maddening part of it all. “You have nothing to worry about.” the captain said. How can he say such a thing after he was so wrong before? I guess I do have something to worry about because he is trying to convince me not to worry. With a great woosh my pod is sent out of the ship into the ocean where the gods only know what will happen next.

National Novel Writing Month Pt 13

Away with us he's going,

The solemn-eyed:

He'll hear no more the lowing

Of the calves on the warm hillside

Or the kettle on the hob

Sing peace into his breast,

Or see the brown mice bob

Round and round the oatmeal chest

For he comes, the human child

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand

From a world more full of weeping than he can understand

    My head is pounding and I try to slow my breathing but the pounding in my head just gets louder and louder. Then it hits me. I need to take a shit. Staggering to the bathroom I stub my big toe on my left foot. Dancing a bit I almost fall while pondering the pros and cons of motion activated underbed lighting. I don’t have the agility for this in the morning. I manage to make it t the toilet and let it fly. The pain! It is like fire coming out of my ass. It burns and hurts. Did I eat glass or something. The burning just keeps getting worse and worse. Now it is stuck. What is the chance of something to dig it out with? Trying to breathe through the pain. I am sweating very badly and search desperately for something to read. Something to take my mind off the pain. The first one finally drops but there is so much more. Why does it hurt so badly? I need some lemonade or something. Why does this happen? I am in complete agony there are tears in my eyes. It feels like this turd is really tearing me a new one. I didn’t even eat anything spicy but the glass filled turd just won’t drop. It is slowly inching out as if it is not wanting to leave. When I feel like I can’t bear it any more it finally drops. By the gods wiping hurts! The pain is just too much. My asshole is on fire. I don’t want to wipe but I have to. There is no other option. The tears are really flowing fast and hard. I just want the burning to end. Maybe if I had an ice pop so I could shove it up my ass and make it all stop. How would I get an ice pop? Something anything to make it stop.

I stagger out of the bathroom and fall on the floor just outside the door. Curling up in a ball and moaning I rock to try and stop the pain. Slowly it starts to fade and my skin cools. My eyes slowly close.

The gods are angry, the priests are dead, the buildings are on fire. Why, why did we have to anger them? We understand now that we are not gods. Can’t this punishment end? They have stripped us of our wings, taken our glory, and still they rage. We understand the error of our ways and will never reach so high again. Can’t the burning stop? The nations are gone, the rulers have fallen all that is left are the common people. Maybe it is the common people who have least offended the gods. The stars have been falling from the sky and and landing in the water causing so much steam for stars are very hot. None of the machines work any more. We have no food and only a little water. The gods won’t be happy till we all die awful deaths of either thirst or starvation. Despite the fires the nights are very cold for we have no where to sleep any more. There are no buildings left that are fit to occupy. Worst of all is hearing the children cry. They cry for their mothers. They cry for their fathers. They cry for want of food, water or warmth. Never in the last two hundred years had a child gone hungry. These are terrible days.

The sun doesn’t even come up any more. The moon is hidden from us as well. What will we do? How will we make peace with the gods? There have been many sacrifices to the gods. Many people are willing to give up their lives to end this but the sacrifices go unnoticed by the gods. The streets run red with blood. The water is fouled and all we can do is pray for it to end. We can’t even leave the island as all the boats have been sunk. We are trapped here and we will die here. The question is just how long will that take? There is no light, life, and love here anymore. Only death, sorrow and destruction.

Finally one of the gods came down and told us that the gods had deliberated upon our fate. That we would never again live in the light. That we would never again think ourselves the equals of the gods. That we would live for the rest of eternity under the waters of the world as the fish do. I am very scared. I know that the gods are powerful but to be able to do such things would be only within the power of the gods. A bright light shines above us too bright to look at and all the brighter for not having had light for days. The land shakes and I am thrown to the ground. No one would be able to maintain footing with such shaking going on. What remains of the buildings falls and people are screaming all around. The ocean is rising up to meet us. We will soon sink under the water. I try to run from the rising water but there is too much debris in the way. I climb the nearest pile desperate for escape. I am not alone. Many are climbing with me. None of us know what to do. Why can’t the gods just forgive us?

Something strange is happening. People are trying to swim but can’t they are being sucked under and will drown. Others try to pull them out but only get sucked into the water. There is no where else for me to go. No where higher up to run. The water is up to my ankles and rising fast. It will take me soon. I am full of fear and dread. Drowning is always a very bad way to die which is why our people have wings. If you can fly you can not drown. Tears run down my face as the water rises and forms around me like thick clay. I can’t get my ankles out and now the water is up to my knees. I cry out and beg the gods for mercy but they only laugh instead. The gods are cruel and merciless. Soon the water will have me too. Many people are struggling and a few have accepted their fate waiting for their death to come.

Taking my last breath I gulp as much as I can fearing when my next breath will come. Everyone’s eyes are wide with fear and they are frantically trying to swim. It is no use. No one can move much let alone reach the surface. My lungs burn but I can’t let my breath go. I think I am crying but when you are under water it is hard to tell. Filled with sadness, fear and regret I release my breath and take in water. This burns my lungs worse than the air they once held. So this is what it is to drown. I always knew it was a dreadfully painful experience but I never thought I would have to endure it myself. Coughing I expel more air and take in more water. This time it doesn’t hurt as bad and my head starts to clear. I can breathe water? Is this what the gods have done to us? My fingers and toes are now thickly webbed like the fins on a fish. Are we to live as fish? The land keeps sinking and the water keeps piling on top. Slowly people began to breathe the water and notice webbed hands and feet. Some panic. Others accept this in stride.

The land finally hits the bottom of the ocean with a thud. We are no longer moving downward and the pressure of the water is no longer increasing. We are now sea people. The buildings reform almost as before but more in the style of what is found under the sea. So the great buildings are not made out of stone but of coral. The great gardens are now cultivated seabeds. It seems that the gods want us properly banished but banished in comfort. These are strange gods.

    I wake up with a start. Why am I on the floor? Did I fall asleep outside the bathroom? Why does my stomach hurt? No time for questions now I have some heavy duty stinking to do.

National Novel Writing Month Pt 12

    The sound of straining metal surrounds us. Many of the windows are quickly covered darkening the interior. The ship shudders and moves unsteadily. The sounds continue, looking around everyone is a bit frightening and holding onto the walls for support. The lights flicker and dim as the ship shudders again.

    Just as the sound of straining metal fades I feel that we are moving downward. The sub is diving. Hopefully we can escape the notice of the helicopter. I have to find out what is going on. Heading to the helm Sandra follows me. We wind through the corridors and through doorways. We find the captain absorbed into his monitors. We watch him for a time and gaze over his shoulder to see what he is looking at. One is a clear image of the helicopter approaching where I assume our ship once was. It is all black with no markings and hovers over where we were. Why are they here? What do they want from us? Are they going to attack us?

    The captain turns and sees us “The helicopter is hovering where we last were. I left some micro cameras floating on the surface so we can try to figure out what they want.”

    “But who are they?”

    “I don’t know but our policy is to hide from any and all threats which present themselves. We can stay underwater like this for over a week so you have nothing to worry about. We can surface almost anywhere from where we dove down so no one can follow us. I will keep you updated as I learn anything but we will make the remainder of the trip submerged. You have nothing to worry about. I will contact the council and they will decide what we will do. Now if you will excuse me I have a ship to pilot. I believe you can go watch a movie in the lounge.”

    I had no idea that we had the technology available to make a ship convert into a submarine but I guess that does add a whole new level of stealth options. This would also make the ship really hard to sink. No wonder our group is always so secretive. We have so much to hide. Any country would love to have what we have. No wonder people are after us. No wonder we have to spend so much time below the surface. This is how sunlight and the open sky became luxuries. It is sad when something so freely available is turned into such a rarity.

    We watch a movie but I am too concerned with the events of the day to pay much attention. Drinks are brought but I don’t much care for them. Something is coming to a head and I need to figure out what. This feels all kind of wrong and I don’t know what to do about it. I need to know who killed Asa. Most importantly I need to figure out which side I am on and if I can even trust those people. But why attack the boat? Do they want the boat or something on it? Or do they want someone?

    There are still a small number of port hole style windows which you can’t see anything out of. Nothing is as light hearted as before. As though the sight of the helicopter ruined our trip purely by existing. The novelty of this trip has worn  off and I would kind of like to go home. No one is happy or laughing as though we are all held captive on a trip we no longer want to be on. The air is tense. The threat of danger is strong and everyone is nervous.

    Dinner is served in the formal dining room in an effort to bring back normality and forget about the threat. We are served sweet, intense, and slightly charred grilled lobster tails in an herbed garlic butter sauce. They are a bit smoky but oh so savory. They practically melt in your mouth and leave you wanting more. Boiling the lobster removes flavor while grilling adds it. The smokiness of the fire balances the richness of the meat while simultaneously intensifying its flavor. The smokiness of the fire helps to balance the richness of the meat while intensifying the flavor. The vegetables are steamed but not cooked to death and served in a rosemary and garlic butter sauce. They are fork tender but still have all their flavor and a good firm texture. To top it all off sangria is served. A dry mossy red wine with a hint of bourbon a blend of fresh fruit with slices of star fruit floating on top. Desert is a tasty caramelized shrimp kabob.

No starches are served as all colonists are on a lower carb diet than the rest of society. We only really eat carbs once a day. This is to help us all maintain a healthy weight. The more traditional american diet calls for eight to eleven servings of carbs each day, but no one can burn off that many carbs. So we all eat a lot less of the carbs. None of us are on those strange no carb diets because carbohydrates are the preferred fuel source for your brain. Since we are a collective of free thinkers we all need to not be held captive carb cravings and foggy minds. After all what good are a bunch of scientists and philosophers who can’t think straight? That same group is also much more easily convinced of a dietary change than to start exercising on a regular basis.

Not being able to shake the tension I decide to retire early. I need to do some writing to try and make sense of this all. I always write when I am upset about something. The simple act of writing gives me a chance to put words or even names to what is bothering me. This makes all problems much more manageable. But where to start? The marvelous ship whose real abilities were hidden from us? That the black unmarked helicopter that came out of nowhere. How the captain knew about it before we could even identify it? So many questions.

I’m swimming. The water is cool but not cold. I can see shapes in the distance but I can’t quite make them out. They are like ghostly shadows but they hold still. Like they are waiting for something. Whale song surrounds me. The sad calling one after the other. They sing and it breaks my heart. One of them was lost from the herd and the rest are calling out desperate to find who is lost. The desperation and sadness consumes me. I can think of nothing else but the sadness and the shapes. The whales are so far away I can’t even see them but still I clearly hear their calling. I try to move toward the shapes but never get any closer. They never become any clearer.

I don’t seem to have any problem breathing under water as though I am one with the water and the water is my home. I pass statues that fell into the water long ago. They were once great carvings of gods but time has not been kind to them. Fish and coral have made them home. So long ago yet I remember the faces clearly. I could even put names to them but that would be too sad for words. There are buildings too but they are not home to the fish but to others like me who live in this land that was once above water. Once we lived in the sunlight. We relished the light and loved it dearly. For it was our most prized possession. But we were too bold. We took too much of what the gods offered. We were greedy and wanted it all. We didn’t want to share with anyone we wanted to be the greatest and so we were. Still we demanded more. We took and took till we thought we were one with the gods. This made them very angry. Then we laughed at their anger and they took their revenge. They sunk us from our place of glory to the depths of the ocean and forcing us to live to eternity in darkness. We are forever out of the light and warmth of the sun. Forever under the water. Forever alone undying and unable to move on. The  gods will force us to be here till time itself runs out.

    I wake up crying. I had that awful dream again about that city under the water.

National Novel Writing Month Pt 11

    The fish was mouthwatering, the fruit was the freshest I have had in a long time. We ate star fruit like apples and ate fresh grilled vegetables till we burst. We drank lemon and lime margaritas and watched the sunset. We danced, talked, laughed, and watched the moon rise, then the stars come out. We pointed out constellations to each other and even made up some stories about them. We stayed up all night catching up on anything and everything that happened in each other's lives. As we watched the sun rise and the new day begin I decided not to go below deck to sleep but instead to sleep on the deck with the sunlight, fresh air, and cooling sea breezes. The others decided to join me. None of us could bear the idea of leaving such fresh air for a stuffy cabin. We had all been underground for far too long.

Where the wandering water gushes

From the hills above Glen-Car,

In pools among the rushes

That scarce could bathe a star,

We seek for slumbering trout

And whispering in their ears

Give them unquiet dreams;

Leaning softly out

From ferns that drop their tears

Over the young streams.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

    Upon waking I quickly realized that someone had hung up a uv proof tarp over us so that we would not fry in the bright sunlight. None of us had thought of this but the ship’s crew is competent, kind, and thoughtful. It will take about five days to reach the islands so we have plenty of time to figure out what we want to do. Maybe Sandra even planned some on island adventures. Snorkeling is a must but maybe we can go skydiving in those suits again. They give so much freedom of movement in the sky. You can do flips, turns, and loops. Sure you are just falling really fast but you have control over it. I always wanted to have wings and to fly like a faerie but this is the closest I could ever get to it. The taste of freedom pure freedom like I could fly anywhere, do anything, be anyone. Flying like that is almost magical. Flying is the ultimate way to feel alive.

    One crew member is cleaning up the deck and washing the remnants of last night’s party off into the ocean. The cook from last night is approaching with what smells like coffee. It’s a wonderful full bodied roast served in beautiful blue cups. The coffee is in a carafe to help keep it hot. The tarp above us is flapping a bit in the wind not being pulled fully tight. I have a hard time disentangling myself from the pile of girls I am sleeping in. I am simultaneously laying under and on top of people. We are cuddling together for warmth and comfort. I have an elbow in my back, an arm under my neck as a pillow, and a leg across my bladder creating much unwanted pressure. The real question is who is feeling me up in their sleep. Struggling to get out of the ple without hurting anyone I wake up most of the girls. We race to separate bathrooms desperate to make it in time. After splashing some water on my face I head back up to start on the coffee. This stuff is delicious and is served with toasted biscuits and honey. The simple savory foods are always the best.

    Sitting in the hot tub trying to soak out some of the toxins I drank last night I relax and drink more coffee. The other girls slowly join me. A crew member wakes me up telling me that I can’t sleep in the hot tub and recommending that I go to bed. Reluctantly I trudge off to my room.

    The feather soft bed surrounds me in comfort. The soft sheets caress me, and I drift off back to dreamland.

    I’m running through a forest. Fast, so fast. I’m barefoot and running. Am I running from something or to something? The shrubs and trees fly by. There is just me and the forest in perpetual twilight. Ghostly shapes fly past me but no roots trip me. No matter how fast or how far I run I never tire.

    A clearing bathed in moonlight appears before me. I speed toward it. A ring of ghostly stones rises up around me. They are at the same time gray and blue somehow twinkling and pulsing as though alive. They tower around me, but I don’t fear them. I only feel small before them. I can feel something I lost before. Something familiar but just out of reach. I long to be in his arms. He is here Asa is here standing within the inner ring of stones. I am enveloped in his arms. I look into his face longingly. Then he is gone. I search. I call. I am frantic to find him. There is whispering all around me. I glimpse him moving between the standing stones. Why won’t he come to me? Why is he hiding from me? I spin searching for him frantic. The stones whirl around me.

    Returning to the center there is an alter with his body stretched out upon it. I don’t want to approach knowing what I will find but the alter moves toward me. I close my eyes but it is no use. He is splayed out brutally murdered as I found him before. He turns to me and speaks. How can he speak? How can he be alive? I know he is dead but it doesn’t make any sense. I can’t bring myself to approach him but I must hear what he is saying.

“They did this to me.”

“Who?” I demand “Who did this to you?”

“A bomb they are building a bomb. The preparations are almost complete.”

“What? Who?” I’m confused. I don’t know what he is talking about.

    I blink and he is gone. Sobbing I beg for him to return whole and healed as I once knew him. The whispers close in around me. They press in upon me. I feel like I can’t breathe. They are all around me. There is no where to run. They keep getting louder and louder I just can’t quite understand what they are saying. What are they saying? What does it mean? The whispers are so loud now I can’t even think. They are thundering a message I can’t quite catch.

   

    I wake up with a start soaked in sweat and shaking. The frightening memory of the dream slowly fades from my mind as my heart slows. It was just a bad dream.

    I decide to take a shower before seeking anyone to talk to. The bathroom is surprisingly large with silver gilding on almost everything. The water is good and hot. Unlike most low flow faucets it comes out more like rain drops than a light spray. Relaxing into the warmth I put the rest of the dream out of my mind. The lavender soap is calming and refreshing. The towels are large, soft, and fluffy just the way I love them.

    Someone unpacked my bags, organized, and put away my things. All my shirts and skirts are hung up and nicely arranged. Finding an outfit is refreshingly easy. Maybe I should reorganize my closet at home.

    Following my nose I locate lunch. The chef is standing behind a hot grill built into a dining table with seats all around entertaining the girls while preparing what smells like a fantastic meal. There are onions, peppers, garlic, shrimp, fish, beef, and an amazing array of colorful vegetables flying about. Different cooked things fly onto plates to applause.

    As soon as I take a seat a plate appears like magic and is filled with all kinds of tasty things to eat. A mouth watering mix of stir fry and sauces. I eat everything and ask for more shrimp which she happily makes. We all get as much as we want to eat served however we want. Shrimp can even be flipped into your mouth from across the grill.

    Wondering what we want to do for the day we wander on deck all we can see is blue. The blue sky meets the blue ocean and blends into eternity. The sun is still high in the sky. A warm light breeze caresses my cheek. Sighing in contentment I feel that something is wrong. Something doesn’t sound right. I know the sound of the engines but there is something else added to it. Looking at Sandra she feels it too that something is wrong. There is a strange black spot in the sky. We are too far from land for it to be a bird. I should tell the captain just in case it is something we need to be concerned about. Turning to do so a crew member appears frantic exclaiming “Quick get below deck. Now!”

    We all hurry to file down below the deck and she hits a button behind a light fixture. She uses her com to tell the captain that everyone is below deck. Loud buzzing surrounds us and something is moving. The ship is changing somehow. Looking at her I ask “What is going on?”

    “That helicopter shouldn’t be there so we are transforming the ship into a sub and traveling below the ocean. This ship can’t travel more than 100 feet below the surface but it does give us some options for hiding from people we don’t want to see us. Go relax in the lounge we will keep you posted.”

National Novel Writing Month Pt 10

Where the wave of moonlight glosses

The dim gray sands with light,

Far off by furthest roses

We foot it all the night,

Weaving olden dances

Mingling hands and mingling glances

Till the moon has taken flight;

To and fro we leap

And chase the frothy bubbles,

While the world is full of troubles

And anxious in its sleep.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

A couple days pass slowly and Sandra has the boat and girls ready to take a trip. I really need to get away from here for a while. We will take the yacht to hawaii and have fun snorkling, fishing, shopping, and exploring the islands. We can just get away for a while and have fun. After all life is only worth living if you are having fun. Sandra even helps me pack. We take the underground trail out to the road in our electric mini bus. Its a nice vehicle so we don’t have to walk 5 miles to get to the road. We even have a driver so we know we are being pampered. All the luggage gets secured in the back. I always feel less secure in the outer tunnels. They are designed to collapse if we are invaded leaving people trapped or unable to enter. That always makes me feel strange. The tunnels also look like they are only made of dirt which can be concerning in the event of an earthquake. Which is why the buss is designed to withstand a tunnel collapse.

The tunnel ends at a house and shed owned by the colony. Where we load our bags into the SUV a big spacious car that allows us to travel where we want to. We load up and head to the coast. Living in the compound kind of makes me feel like some kind of secret agent. Getting in and out of the place is always a little stressful. We have to be careful and always check cameras to make sure no one is watching us. As we leave the shed and get on the highway some of us keep our heads down so it doesn’t look like as many people are in the car. We regularly repaint the car to change how it looks making it harder to spot. This month it is a brilliant black with glitter in the paint allowing it to sparkle in the sunlight.

    The sunlight dazzles me. The sunlight is so bright and the sky so blue that I am glad that I am not the one driving. I would have frozen just outside the shed and not have been able to drive. How could I have gone so long without seeing the sky? We have been underground for far too long. There are similar murmurs around the car. This was definitely a good idea. I can’t wait to get to the coast and have the sun on my face and wind in my hair.

    We are on the highway in no time.The trees moving swiftly past us. Everyone is quiet and reverent of the open sky. No amount of paint and led lights or even stained glass can ever compete with the fastness of the open sky. I don’t think I could ever truly be at home completely underground.

    A few hours and we are at the dock. Credendo Vides, our yacht, waits for us silently. The saying is latin for in believing one sees. I always loved that saying. We are given a small crew since we don’t know how to operate the craft. This is yet another perk of living in the colony. We also have several branches distributed around the globe. So anyone can take a trip and visit another branch and live there for however long they want. It’s like taking a vacation to go live somewhere else for a bit. Say I want to go skiing in the mountains around colorado but don’t have the cash for such a trip. I can travel with someone or some supplies to the colony and live there taking breaks to ski. That is what we all do. Travel the world colony to colony. We even have a colony on hawaii. Officials and outsiders know it as a sort of hippie commune but it is all part of the colony. We grow all kinds of wonderful tropical fruit there but don’t export it as that would be horrendously expensive. To enjoy the fruits you must travel to that colony. It is one of our few that is completely out in the sunlight.

    The yacht is a pearly white with silver, has a wide deck, a fine crew, and enough to keep us happy for quite a while. The accommodations are not those of a millionaire but they are nothing to sneeze at. This is part of what makes life in the colony so great. People who love the sea are able to spend their lives at sea doing what they love without want or concern about the future. They can live each day as they wish and love what they do. If they no longer want that life, then there are many other good lives to live elsewhere. People can also change what they do quite often and travel far. Everyone does what they do best to the best of their abilities and we all live quite happily because of it.

    The sea breeze is cool and salty in the bright sunlight. The wind is slowly trying to tangle my hair and I feel free. I always feel small standing in front of the ocean so vast, deep, and blue. The waves lap gently at the dock and a few of the crew come to help us move our luggage. I stand in the sunlight allowing the sun to warm my skin like a warming embrace from an old friend.

    Thanking our driver we are soon underway heading to hawaii. We all sit comfortably and watch as people hussle this way and that. Rather unexpectedly a woman brings us a pitcher of margaritas. All the girls rave and go wild. Who doesn’t love someone pampering you without you even asking? Still somehow the depression seeps around the corners and back inside. It is never easy to get over losing someone so important to you. Watching the land disappear out of sight is like slowly losing a piece of myself. I don’t know which part or if i will ever get it back but there is this huge hole in my heart that just keeps getting bigger the farther away we are. Maybe I can find myself again somewhere and be happy again. Maybe this is too soon to move on. Maybe it is not soon enough. Who is to say what is truly right or wrong anyways?

    Sandra wraps me in a hug and asks me what is wrong before I even notice that I am crying. The other girls are staring at me in concern. “I miss him” I manage to sob out and give into Sandra’s embrace.

    “I know” she replies “But there is nothing anyone can do to bring him back. People are investigating to find who did this but that will take time, and I do not want revenge to seep into your heart.”

    “I see him everywhere. Everything reminds me of him. I just keep wondering why someone would do that to him, to me, to the cat? None of us deserved what happened.” We stay like that for some time till the smell of food arouses me from my depressed state.

    We come up on an impressive spread. Complete with grilled fish and watermelon sharks.