I'm a 29-year-old college student and mother. I'm currently (05/29/11) working on an Bachelors of Arts in Sociology. I have already obtained an Associate of Arts in Journalism, as well as an Associate of Science in Biological Sciences graduating Summa Cum Laude. I am a member of Phi Theta Kappa International Honor Society of the Two Year College. I was as well a member of the Math and Science clubs at my previous school. I was a member of Fort Hays Honor Society but the membership will be suspended do to my falling below full time this up coming semester. I'm a member of Forth Hays Sociological Honor Society.
I have this tendency to being a story, get a few pages, perhaps even a few chapters in and then I loose interest in it or my ideas for it escape me. Here is another such project. Tell me what you think, perhaps if you like it I'll pick it back up again:
Perfection
Dear Sirs and Madams,
I
am writing to you on behalf of the human race established on the planet Earth
of the Milky Way galaxy. We humbly request a counsel to discuss the future of
this subset of the human race.
We
believe that we have lost our vitality and are becoming stagnant. We are
experiencing an unexpected epidemic of severe depressive states. We
respectfully request a species set back so that we can begin again. Thank you
kindly.
Sincerely
Yours,
Rigel
Nethers,
President of
the Earth Systems
A deep sigh escapes Rigel’s lips as the pen falls
back to the scarred wooden desktop, nearly rolling off of the edge. His eyes
take on a glassy look as he stares at the crisp white sheet of paper with his
signature scrawled across the bottom; the tight curves of his handwriting stare
back at him. A few moments pass and he sighs again. Rigel leans back in his
chair, cringing at the high-pitched squeal it admits as metal rubs against
metal. He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing the once meticulously
placed gray strands.
“How did it come to this?” there is no one in the room
with him.
“Look at you, now you’re talking to yourself, pull it
together.”
He stands and paces the room a few times before stopping
in front of an abstractly shaped mirror, somewhat resembling a painters pallet
that has been cut into pieces. Frowning into the mirror his hand finds a corner
of the glass and shoves it aside, it moves easily without a sound, unlike his
chair. The small cupboard houses a myriad of hygiene products, among which lies
a small black plastic comb that Rigel retrieves. Turning the comb over and over
slowly in his hands, he stares at it but doesn’t seem to see it. Yet another
sigh from his lips brings his eyes back into focus. Rigel taps the comb against
his palm, runs it through his hair and then places it back into the mirrored
compartment. As he slides the mirror closed he puffs his cheeks out in an odd
gesture before letting them fall slack against his bones again.
Rigel crosses the room and sits back at his desk. His
glance lands on the piece of paper once more and then shifts to a cabinet to
his left. On his feet once more he pulls a key from desk draw and uses it to
unlock the cabinet revealing several bottles of liquids, most of which are one
shade of amber or another. Idly, he sets the key on top of the cabinet then
runs his fingers across a couple of the bottles. They are unmarked bottles,
each clear textured glass. He taps a well-trimmed fingernail against one
half-full bottle of clear liquid. A diamond cufflink clinks against a small
matching glass as he pulls them both off of the shelf and sets them next to the
key on top of the cabinet. A small drop splashes onto the wood as he pours the
liquid into the cup. After downing that
in one drink, he pours another and carries it with him back to his desk.
Once again he sees his signature on the letter. Once
again he sighs. Continuing to stare at the paper, he sips his liquor. A knock
at the door draws his attention. He sits up right and sets the glass down.
“Come in,” he says
His office door eases open a foot and stops; his
daughter’s head slides in through the narrow opening and smiles at him. A warm
smile crosses Rigel’s face as well as he beckons her to join him. Like a spy
trying not to be seen, she slides her slender frame through the small opening
and closes the door immediately behind her as opposed to opening it wider and
walking directly in.
“Hi Daddy,” she says.
“Hi Princess …” he responds.
He
cocks and eyebrow at her as she crosses the room, making no explanation for her
actions. As she walks she buries her hands into the front pockets of her jeans.
She has pushed her arms in as deep as the will go into the tight, black fabric;
which gives her arms a rigid appearance and makes her slump over a touch. She
sits on the edge of one of the chairs opposite of him and smiles again.
“Is that the letter, Daddy?”
“Yes, Bria.”
“So … it’s all but done then?”
“Yes, Bria.”
“Well, it’s probably for the best.”
“Princess?”
“Yeah, Daddy?”
“What are you hiding out there, Bria?”
“Oh, uh, well mom asked me to come get you. There are
some men outside who say that they are from the Federation, they want to see
you, Dad. I don’t think that they are here about the letter. They’re armed,”
She speaks the last part much more softly.
Energy
ripped through my body, shaped into the essence of fire and directed at the undead
by my will alone. My body, untouched by
the fire itself, still burned as if submersed in the flames. Gritting my teeth I dumped more of myself into
the fire and watched as the flames swallowed him whole again. His laughter cut
through the deafening roar and he emerged, still making his way towards us. His
charred skin sloughed off in chunks, only to be replaced by fresh skin before
the old could hit the floor.
“Awe,
what’s the matter little dragon? I just want a little taste, it won’t hurt.
Much. I promise,” the fire reflected off his cold, dead vampiric eyes and
somehow made his exposed fangs look that much more deadly.
This
would be our third encounter with Vaughn. Mythology depicts vampires as being
full of bloodlust, craving human blood but able to survive on the blood of
animals if that is all that is available. The truth is, vampires crave power, energy
rather and the easiest, most efficient way for them to get it is to suck it
right out of the veins of the living. The dead have lost the energy of their
soul, normally their bodies would decompose and the energy of their bodies
would be lost as well, returned to the earth. The undead, however, are somehow
stuck in the middle. The energy of their soul has left them, but their flesh
has remained whole magically enhanced and forever craving the energy of their
lost soul. Unable to ever have their soul returned to them, they are driven
insane without it and all humanity is lost.
Some
people have stronger, more powerful souls than others. Vampires are usually
attracted to them, often times without understanding why. Older vampires,
having learned more about themselves and what it is that they really need to
survive, will seek out those with the strongest souls to feed. The stronger the
souls that they feed on, the stronger the vampire becomes. With animals and
pure-blooded humans this is minimal. For those of us with magic, our blood
packs quite a punch for a vampire. This brings us back to the here and now. I
have the blood of dragons in my veins, and this vampire wants it bad.
It has been quite some time since my last post. Things have been rough for my family. I have gone through a divorce and learned that my daughter is Autistic.
My birthday is in 2 days (August 10th). I'm asking everyone to make donations in support of Autism Society of America in lieu of giving me presents. If you would like to make a donation ($10 minimum) below is a widget that links to my fundraiser I designed for this purpose. Thanks.
She cries because she is lonely, she fights because she can't stand it. She'll go on, she'll make her way, she knows she must. She hurts and she knows that they don't understand it.
We are all but birds in cages Watching the world pass by Free to do as we wish Within the confines of life
We are all but birds in cages Some of us no longer know that we can fly Our wings, they grow weak With the passing of time
We are all but birds in cages Few of us asking why Confined to the paradigm Some of us cry
We are all but birds in cages Now is my time to try I will escape this cage Spread my wings and fly
Child
Smaller than I could Even begin to feel inside My child I love you
The Roses, They Speak to Me
The roses, they speak to me of nature's bliss. They speak to me of the perfection within the imperfection. They speak to me of the love of a mother earth.
The roses, they speak to me of things unbound. They speak to me of the thorn of life and protection. They speak to me of the soul within all.
Twilightrose
A twilightrose is a rose unseen a rose unheard a rose unsung.
A twilightrose is akin to a diamond in the rough hidden in the rock.
A twilightrose is one whose beauty is still hidden waiting for the dawn.
A twilightrose am I.
Mother May I?
Mother may I go out and play? Mother may I cross the street? Mother may I stay the night?
Mother may I have this dress? Mother may I date this boy? Mother may I stay out late?
Mother may I have my dreams? Mother may I be as I wish? Mother may I be left alone?
Mother may I grow up? Mother may I be a woman? Mother may I move out?
Mother I am going to be independent.
Owl
I think that you are confused Mr. Owl, for it is day. I hear you hooting, hooting away.
I think that you are confused Mr. Owl, for you are wrong. It is day and you are hooting, hooting away.
Mr. Owl, don't you know, haven't you been told? Mr. Owl, you are an owl, and owls sleep during the day.
I've listened to you for months now, Mr. Owl, and I must say, I find your boldness to hoot in the day, quite inspiring.
You see, Mr. Owl, if you can hoot in the day then I can hoot in the night. Regardless of what others think, Mr. Owl, you are right.
Make your own way, Mr. Owl and do as you wish. Make your own way, Mr. Owl and hoot to your hearts content.
Spring
Flowers blossoming Rain pouring in quick bursts Spring has come today
My Love
Like spring time flowers, like the deepest blue Within the deep green sea, there lies a secret And in the whispers of the wind, there is a smile
Where the mountains grow steep, and the rivers flow deep Where the animals are free to roam, and the trees reach the sky And no one asks why, that is where
The valleys call out to me, they call for my company For me to come frolic, and play In this secret place that no one knows, but me
The red rose weeps, or friends that it's lost And the daisy grows, wishing to be the rose And just what the dragonfly does, nobody knows
Maybe he talks, maybe he works Maybe he just goes, but these things all fit And they all love, just as I love you
War
Problem, solution Nature of man so blind Might does not make right
Sands of Time
The sands of time, are always shifting what might have been may not have been
Every action, every moment and the sands of time shift
What should be, what will be is always changing, and shifting with the sands of time
This was an open writing assignment in my second semester Creative Writing class. It's been awhile since I've read it all the way through myself and I don't think it was all that good but I'm posting it anyway. If I remember correctly, it was based off of a dream I had around the time I wrote it.
The Strength of the Mind
Melissa opened her eyes, the pain responded in turn to her renewed consciousness. It was like looking through wax paper at first, but it soon began to clear. She contemplated the ceiling; which was painted like clouds. How interesting, but where the hell am I? Soon enough, as the pain began to fade, her answer came to her in simple terms. I'm outside.
At first this didn't seem so strange of a place to be. Why not be outside, people are outside all of the time. What am I doing outside, though? Now this was a much better question, but still not quite the right one to get her brain to recall the situation. Melissa blinked her eyes, once, twice. Still this didn't make sense. So, she moved to sit up.
The motion was enough to send her retching on the ground nearby. What happened? Now, this was the one, this was the right question, but the answer would make her vomit again. Her brain flooded, in loose waves, the events that recently took place.
There was a man. A very strange man. He was wearing a white coat. His name tag, it was missing from the coat, she could see where it was torn away. He stopped her, he said he was lost. He said his name was Dr. Slominski, and he was from out of town. He was supposed to be heading to a convention in town, but couldn't find the right building.
She bent over the passenger seat to get her map out. She sat back up and unfolded it. He leaned in close looking at the map too. Then, she couldn't breathe. There was something pressing against her nose and mouth, it tasted and smelled foul. Then, everything went black. Melissa rolled to the side and deposited more vomit to the puddle.
When she was done, she rolled away from it, afraid the stench would send here heaving again. Oh my god. What has happened to me, where am I? She fought to control her frantic mind, she knew that if she panicked now, she would never find her way home. Pulling herself to her feet, she got her first real glimpse of where she was. Surrounded by garbage, she knew she was in a landfill. She couldn't even begin to think of where the nearest one would be from her home. It just wasn't something that the average person thought about unless they lived near one or worked for the trash company. Neither of which did she.
Oh my god, Doug. Where is Doug, oh god please tell me he is OK. Of course he is OK, he wasn't with me when this happened, he's probably at home worried to death. I'm sure the police are already out looking for me. As she turned about looking at her surroundings, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that caught her attention. Her eyes rested on the strange shape, trying to fit together what it was that she was seeing. She wasn't really paying attention to it, but her subconscious had picked up on it anyway. Then it hit her, what she was looking at was the leg of a small child. Oh my god!
Melissa ran to where the leg protruded from a pile of garbage, praying that the child was still alive but sure that it wasn't. Frantically, she dug through the muck. Throwing a can there, a bag here. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard the faint whimper from the body that alerted her that the kid was alive. Digging with even more fervor, she reached the small face of a horrified little girl.
She looked groggy, and Melissa was willing to bet that she was drugged too. She felt herself growing with even more hate towards this mad man. Furious that this man would bury the little girl, she continued to pull her free from the trash. So weak that she couldn't stand, the little girl collapsed back into Melissa's arms. She couldn't have been more than 7-years old. Her blond hair was covered in muck and grime, but still a few strands glistened in the sunlight.
Melissa held the little girl, rocking her back and forth, praying and begging for her to wake up. Somehow, Melissa noticed, that the little girl had managed to hold on to her small stuffed rabbit. Amazing, she thought. Within a moment or two, the girl rolled her head back and her eyes fluttered open. They stared at Melissa, with what could only be fear and confusion before they fell closed again.
Melissa laid the little girl down, and began a futile attempt at wiping her face clean. The dirt and grime only smeared and smudged more, very little actually coming off. A few minutes passed with the girl going in and out of consciousness when Melissa heard a noise. A sort of scraping sound, from not far away. Afraid that the mad man was still here with them, intent on killing them, she drug the little girl behind the remains of a red four door Sedan.
Melissa moved to the edge of the vehicle, and peeked around the corner. She could still here the sounds of scrapping, but couldn't see anyone yet. Quickly, she looked around for something to use as a weapon, as her mind filled with all of the awful things that this man would do to that little girl. She found a piece of scrapped metal, dull enough for her to use like a bat. Returning to her look out position, she saw another woman stumble into view. Melissa's heart skipped a beat at the relief and regret that there was someone else here other than the mad man.
“Hello, are you alright?!” Melissa spoke out to the woman.
The woman jumped with a start, which sent her reeling. Melissa dropped the metal and rushed to the woman's side. The woman flung her arms out around her, wildly. Melissa did her best to dodge the swings, but was unlucky a couple of times.
“It's alright! Stop! I don't want to hurt you! I'm not him, I'm not him!” Melissa yelled at the woman as she tried to avoid the attack.
Suddenly the woman stopped flailing and stood still. Helpless and scared, she looked Melissa over. As if she had finally decided that Melissa wasn't a threat, she started crying hysterically and threw herself into Melissa's arms. Once the woman was done crying, Melissa was able to convey to her that she herself had just woken up here as well. The woman pulled herself together, then introduced herself as Rebbecca James. Melissa took Rebbecca over to where she left the little girl.
The little girl was conscious now, and huddled up against the Sedan, hugging her rabbit tightly and rocking back and forth. When Melissa and Rebbecca rounded the corner, the little girl began rocking more intently. Rebbecca stood and watched in utter disbelief as Melissa crouched next to the little girl and began talking to her.
“Hi, honey. My name is Melissa and I know that you are scared. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm scared too,” she said. “I'm going to try and get us out of here, OK? I'm going to need your help though, alright? I'm going to need you to be a brave girl and talk to me OK? Can you do that?”
“Yes,” the response was so meek that it was barely audible.
Tears welled down the girls eyes, and soon after they came to Melissa and Rebbecca's eyes. Rebbecca joined Melissa next to the little girl and told her who she was, and that she was scared as well. She reached out and caressed the little girls head and promised it would all be alright.
The little girl told them that her name was Sara, Sara Levy and that she was already 6 and a half years old. The three of them stood after awhile, and began trying to find there way out of the landfill. It wasn't long before they ran into several more people, all groggy and drugged as well. My God what in the hell is going on here?! This man must be crazy! Is this some sort of sick joke?
All in all, there were at least twenty different people here. Rebecca's husband, Daniel was here. An old man,Franklin Johannesen, was struggling hard to make sense of all of this. Melissa wasn't sure if his confusion was from the drugs, or if the old man already had Alzheimer's or something else. The poor man, he looked so thin and weak already; huddled up in his over sized green knit sweater. His skin was dark, his beard and hair causing a striking contrast as it was stark white. He had a small scar just above his left eye, and a small mark on his ear indicating that there was once an earring there.
Jessica Barker was six months into her pregnancy, her thin frame made her look a bit awkward with her swollen belly. Her blond hair was tied up in a bun, pulled a little too tight by the looks of it. Her white little nose, turned up in a peak that gave her a particularly snobbish look. Katrina Davis, she was only 17- years old, but she seemed to be handling all of this, maybe the best. Melissa admired her, she seemed calm and collective as she did what she could to accommodate Jessica. Meanwhile, the self proclaimed bachelor, Harold Weiss, acted like it was the end of the world. In his early thirties, he threw more of a fit about all of this than anyone. His clothes were filthy, his head hurt, he wanted a shower, this place smelled bad and on and on and on.
Sara stayed close to Melissa, as did Franklin. She went around trying to calm everyone, and see if anyone was hurt. She was desperately hoping that someone new where they were. Little Sara was acting so grown, she was hugging the strangers and telling them it was all going to be OK. She had taken to holding on to Franklin's hand, as if she could tell that he needed a friend and a guide. He seemed content with this, and let the little girl hold on to him and talk his ear off.
Nathan Taylor volunteered to scout around and see if he could find a way out of here. He was 20-years oldand a Junior in college. He played football, as well as wrestled on the colleges teams. He was certainly in his prime, as even under these circumstances, Melissa who was nearly twenty years his senior and a happily married woman, couldn't help but to notice his bulging muscles. Nor could she help but to notice how attractively the sweat ran down his caramel colored skin, and moistened his brown hair.
When Nathan returned, it wasn't with good news. The place was secured with high fences that were wrapped in razor-wire. He was sure that he could probably get over it, but most of the others couldn't. The gates were chained and locked; there didn't seem to be anything around outside of those fences. He could see a road in the distance, with a few cars here and there but that was really it.
Melissa and Nathan talked quietly for awhile. The others here had already somehow elected her to be the leader. It was an unspoken thing, that few were aware had even happened. Nonetheless, they were all looking to her to get them out of here. Nathan agreed to scale the fence and go get help. He would return as quickly as he could. Some of the others didn't seem to fond of the idea that he was leaving while they stayed, but they all knew that they weren't up to climbing that fence.
He got to the top of the fence, with what seemed like little effort. He threw the jacket over the wire, hoping that would help fend off the razors. He hoisted himself up and over the wire, slowly making his way back down the other side. Those who had gathered at the fence to watch him go, breathed a sigh of relief when his feet touched the other side.
As Nathan stopped to talk to Melissa through the fence, a black van pulled off of the road and began heading towards the landfill. Sara was excited, and began jumping up and down. Pointing at the van, she drew everyone else's attention to it.
“Look, look! We're saved, we're saved,” She yelled with delight and the complete hope that only a child has.
They all looked, and watched a moment as the van came closer. Something wasn't right. The van was driving really fast, and its windows were completely dark.
He looked at her for a moment and saw that panic in her face, he looked at them all and said he swore he'd be back. He told them all to go and hide good, then took off running. As he ran, and Melissa herded the others back, she heard the van skid. Horrified, she turned to look.
The man had gotten out of the van and was pointing a rifle at Nathan. Oh my God!
“Nathan! Look out! He has a ...” She yelled as loud as she could, but Nathan was falling to the ground.
Oh no, oh no. She was yelling at the others now, telling them all to run and hide, now. They did as she commanded, scared the scattered like mice. She spared one last look back, only to see the van heading towards Nathans prone body. She had to hide herself. Sara was still standing there, behind her. Tears were rolling down here cheeks and her hand was still holding on to Franklin's. Melissa yelled at them to come on, and started dragging them off.
Within fifteen minutes, they heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle getting closer and closer. He was inside the landfill, and Melissa was sure that he was going to kill all of them. She huddled in closer, holding onto Sara as she quietly sobbed into Melissa's chest. Franklin was huddled behind her, they had taken refuge in an old minivan. What was left of an old minivan, anyway.
Through the window, she saw that van pull up and stop. It was only fifteen feet away, at the most. The door opened and out stepped the same pudgy, balding man wearing the same white coat. He walked around to the back of the van and opened the doors. Her view was blocked, but Melissa watched intently anyway, barely breathing. A moment later, she could hear the man grunting as he backed out of the van. He was dragging something out, she looked and saw that a head, Nathan's head was coming out with him. The man had put Nathan in the van and was now dragging him back out. He certainly looked dead from here, but she wasn't sure. His head was rolled to the side, and he was completely limp. She didn't see any blood though.
He let Nathan's feet hit the ground and then laid him down. The man stood, breathing heavily and cursing. He looked around a bit, as if he was expecting them to come out and throw a greeting party for his return. When he didn't see anyone, he got back in the van and drove away. After a moment, Melissa opened the door and looked around. When she didn't see the man, she hopped out and rushed over to Nathan.
He was still breathing, and she couldn't find a bullet hole anywhere on him. Still, there was no sign of blood. After a moment, she concluded that he had been tranquilized. Sara and Franklin were standing behind her, when she assured them that he wasn't dead, they came a bit closer. Franklin helped to pick Nathan up off of the ground the best he could, Sara even pulled at his leg.
Just as they were getting him situated, Sara screamed and let go of Nathan. When Melissa looked up, she nearly dropped Nathan as well. Franklin, held on tight. The mad man had returned on foot, he had that nasty gun he used on Nathan, and a real gun as well. Melissa, slowly lowered Nathan back to the ground whispering to Franklin as she did. She told him to take Sara and go quickly. He nodded to her, showing that he understood.
As she stepped slowly in front of Franklin and Sara, retreated slowly at first and then with as much of a run as the old man could pull off. Melissa faced the man in a bold show, when in all actuality she was horrified. He didn't try to stop them from leaving, and he didn't kill Nathan. Obviously he doesn't want us dead, so stay calm and try to figure out what it is that he does want. The man stared at her with what seemed to be calculated amusement.
He slung the tranquilizer gun across his shoulder, by the strap and then pulled something else out. The inanity of what was before her took Melissa a moment to grasp what it actually was. It was a water gun. The man was pointing a water gun at her. What the ... what the hell is he going to do with a god damn water gun? This is some kind of sick joke isn't it? He sprayed her down with the water gun, soaking her face and blouse. She waited for the punchline. Then it came.
“Melissa, you have just been infected with a highly contagious disease.,” he said. “You will die within a month, but only after spreading it to everyone else. If you leave here, it will be spread to everyone else that you encounter within 100 feet. It is airborne, and I am the only one with the antidote.”
Melissa eyed him with doubt and disbelief. He can't be serious, this can't be real! What the hell is he, a modern day mad scientist?! He's using us as lab rats? Her mind raced, and the man stood talking. It didn't matter though, not much else was getting through to her. Suddenly, with a blind rage that she had no clue she was capable of, she lunged at the man. She hit and kicked, scratched and bit. She fought him with all of her mind, until she heard a click and felt something cold and hard against her chest.
“Now, now, Melissa. It's best to save your strength. Get up!” he said to her, and she listened.
Slowly, she pulled herself off of the man. Faintly wondering why she should care if he shoots her, if what he just told her was true to begin with. Nonetheless, her desire to live as long as she could took hold and she backed off. He got to his feet, still pointing the gun at her. She stood, panting heavily and watching him as closely as prey watches predator. He smiled broadly, and then sprayed Nathans unconscious face with the water gun as well. Then as if all was well, and it was a job well done he backed off and walked away. Laughing, she could hear him laughing.
As she watched him walk, she saw a movement. Jessica was hiding over there, Melissa could just make her out. Apparently, he saw the movement as well, because he took aim and soaked Jessica before taking off in a jog. That son of a bitch! She pregnant for Gods sake! He was gone now though, she faintly heard the noise of the van starting and receding. Jessica was making her way out of her hiding spot and motioning to Melissa for help. She was stuck, just a bit.
Melissa helped her out, asking her what all did she hear the man say. Jessica said she heard all of it. The two woman stood, speechless and scared. Both soaked with whatever was in that water gun, they hugged one another.
“Mrs. Melissa? Is he gone, is it alright to come out now?” Sara's voice sounded way to close for comfort.
Melissa jumped and spun on here heels. Sara and Franklin were standing right next to Nathan. No, no, no, no! Melissa started to shake and cry a bit, finally feeling as if she was going to loose it. Others started to make their ways back to the group. Melissa yelled at all of them to stay back, to get away, but none of them listened. They just didn't seem to get why.
Within moments, the entire group had reassembled talking loudly and hurriedly. She couldn't get them to quiet down, none of them knew what had happened yet. Finally, after several moments Jessica yelled the words shut up, as loud as she could. It was certainly much louder than anyone had expected to hear coming from her. They all fell silent. Melissa was sobbing.
“You damn idiots! I told you all to stay away! Now it's too late! We're all going to die, all of us!” she yelled and ranted.
Slowly, the innocent eyes, pair by pair calmed her down enough to explain what had happened. Immediately the area filled with panic. People were running away, sadly thinking maybe they hadn't caught it yet. Other's were fighting and arguing. Still yet others were screaming and crying. It was a wreck. She wasn't sure when the little arms had wrapped themselves around her, but she was aware now that Sara was holding on tight to her waist. She sunk down to her knees and embraced the little girl.
“It's OK, honey. I'm scared too. But we're gonna get out of here, OK?” Sara spoke softly into Melissa's ear. “I need you to be brave, though. I need you to be strong and talk to me OK? Can you do that?”
Melissa's heart broke just a bit more, hearing this innocent little girl being so brave. She was using almost the exact words that Melissa had spoken to her earlier. She was being brave, braver than Melissa was. Quietly, Melissa shook her head yes and buried her head in Sara's arms.
The next few days went by in a haze for Melissa. Somehow, she had collected herself up off of that ground and led the group again. They had all calmed, the best that they could. Some settling in to the morbid resolute that nothing mattered anymore anyway. Nathan had woken, and was caught up with the situation. He seemed depressed, but kept a bright face on.
Spraypaint, a young runaway girl, had found herself in a leading position as well. Her time on the streets had toughened her, and taught her a lot about survival in unsurvivable places. She claimed to no longer remember exactly how old she was, but Melissa was sure that she wasn't older than 16-years old. Spraypaint helped to make a make shift shelter out of the scrap and trash that was around. It was amazing how intelligent she really was. As well as how easily everyone listened to her; they needed her to give them tasks to do, to keep them distracted.
The Mad Scientist came and went, bringing them food and pointing his damn gun at everyone. They had all come to call him that, The Mad Scientist. It helped somehow. It helped them to stay calm, even as he gruesomely listed off the symptoms that they would experience. Everything from rashes, to seizures. Vomiting, cramps, sores and hallucinations were also on his list. Some days he would come and stand in a corner, writing things down in a book as he watched them do what they could to survive.
The first week seemed to pass with little event. Once, Nathan tried to attack The Mad Scientist and found himself tranquilized again. Harold tried to haggle an antidote from The Mad Scientist, which only got him laughed at. Melissa, spent a lot of time observing him as well. She knew that there had to be something, some way to get past all of this.
The second week, people started to show signs of being ill. Jessica complained of nausea and was vomiting a lot, however she was pregnant so that didn't mean much. Harold complained of intense headaches and was developing a rash. Franklin seemed to be having hallucinations, but that didn't really seem abnormal either. Rebbecca and Daniel had sores on their arms and backs. That was the first real sign of anything serious. The wounds looked nasty. They looked horribly infected, the skin seemed to peel and rot and it smelled badly.
Slowly, almost everyone in the camp started to get sick. Except for Melissa, Spraypaint and a man named Achmed who didn't seem to speak English very well. She wasn't sure why the three of them stayed healthy why everyone else seemed to be dying. The Mad Scientist certainly seemed to take note of this as well.
Melissa and Spraypaint continued to try and help all the others, bringing them food, water and aspirin. That was all that The Mad Scientist really supplied them with. Achmed seemed to stay to himself, off in a corner or occasionally he would go and walk amongst the rubble but he was always within sight.
One evening, after The Mad Scientist left in his black van, Achmed came to Melissa. He asked her to come with him, the best he could. She followed him out of the shelter and out to a pile of rubble. Achmed reached into a pile of garbage and withdrew something wrapped in cloth. He motioned for Melissa to squat down next to him, so she did.
Slowly, Achmed unwrapped the cloth and revealed a handgun. It looked just like the one her husband had at home. He had shown her how to load and unload it, how to hold it and how to fire it. She looked at the gun lying in the dirty cloth that Achmed held, as if in a daze for a moment. Then, she jerked her head up and looked at him. He was smiling with pride over his discovery. She said oh my, and he nodded his head quickly.
Melissa took the gun into her hands, and released the clip. It was loaded. Oh thank you, thank you thank you God! She showed him and he smiled again, still nodding. She could tell that he was as happy as she was, and had decided to give it to her out of trust. She replaced the clip, and slid the gun into her waistband. She turned to Achmed and gave him a fierce hug, which he was happy to receive and return. She poised her finger in front of her mouth, asking him to stay quiet about it. Again, he nodded repetitively. Although they couldn't speak much of the same language, this went beyond verbal communications. They rose and went back to camp.
Melissa concealed the gun the best that she could, and did her best to get some sleep. Achmed did the same. The Mad Scientist didn't return the next day. Nor did he return the day after. Melissa and Achmed were both getting anxious to know how this would turn out. There wasn't anything that they could do though, except wait.
When The Mad Scientist returned the next day, he brought more food and water. Feeling particularly in control of the situation, he made rounds to all of the others. He took temperatures, and looked at rashes. He documented all of his findings in his notebook. Melissa waited and watched, feeling very nervous and shaky. She was sweating more than normal.
The Mad Scientist took this as a sign that she was getting sick too. She caught his eye, and nodded her head in the direction of outside. Then assuredly she walked out and waited for him. He found this mighty pompous of her, but out of his own humor and curiosity he followed. Melissa was leaning up against the ruins of an old dresser. He walked over to her and they began to talk.
Melissa knew that she had to keep his attention on her, she had to keep him talking. She talked about the nature of the disease, and asked how long everyone had left. She asked about why he was doing this, and what he had to gain. She asked him if he meant to release it to the public. She kept him talking, so he wouldn't know that Achmed was outside too, getting a table leg from around the corner. She kept him talking so he wouldn't hear Achmed coming up behind him. She kept her eyes on his, so she wouldn't give Achmed away as he approached and swung the table leg like a baseball bat.
The Mad Scientist collapsed to the ground, the table leg had made a sickening thud across his head and back. Melissa dropped down next to him to make sure that he was still breathing and alive. She wanted nothing more than to see this man suffer, but she didn't want to be responsible for anymore deaths. Achmed dropped the table leg and took a step back. Disbelief on his own face, he had never attacked anyone before and wasn't coping well with it.
The Mad Scientist was still alive, only a small amount of blood was coming from his head. Melissa told Achmed that they needed rope. She spoke slow and used simple words, hoping that he understood. He nodded, and seemed to understand because he left and went to a pile across from her. In the meanwhile, she took everything that she could find on The Mad Scientist away. The guns, the notebook and pen, his wallet, keys and the most precious thing of all, a cellphone.
Acmed returned with a torn old sheet, a piece of a bungee cord and a small piece of twine. Together they tied The Mad Scientist up. Nervous and laughing, like a mad woman herself, she called out to Spraypaint. Spraypaint came out and her eyes bulged when she saw The Mad Scientist all tied up and unconscious. She ran over to them and leaned down.
“What are we going to do now?!” Spraypaint asked of Melissa.
“Well, now ... now we're going to make him tell us exactly what the hell is going on,” Melissa said. “Now we make him give us the antidote.”
Hours passed before the man woke up. In the meanwhile, Melissa had managed to call the police and her husband. She explained the situation the best that she could and waited while they traced the cell phone call. It had taken her twenty minutes alone to convince the 911 operator that this wasn't a prank. Achmed had made a call to someone as well, and he had cried while speaking to them. Spraypaint insisted that she has no one to call.
The phone had been passed around to the others inside, those who were aware enough to call someone did. The phone was showing a low battery, so it was decided that no more calls would be made until the police arrived. Melissa read The Mad Scientists notebook. It seemed like a jumbled mess of notes, the writing seemed hurried and the topics jumped all over the place. One word stood out though, among all the others and it gave her more hope than anything. The word Placebo was written in several places, it was one of the few that were completely legible. The book also talked about his enemies, from what she could tell he was referring to co-workers of some sort. The man really was insane.
The police arrived along with The Center for Disease Control. They were all wearing those strange costumes that made them look like astronauts. They came in and started to look over all the sick people inside of the shelter. Melissa, Spraypaint and Achmed stayed out of the way as the began putting people in what looked like body bags with air holes. One man came to Melissa and introduced himself as a detective. He asked Melissa to tell him what had happened here; another man went about untying The Mad Scientist and restraining him to a portable cot. He checked his head and cleaned the wound.
Melissa told the story and showed the detective the notebook. She showed him the word placebo, and asked if it was possible that no one was really sick. He studied the notebook for a minute and then called over someone else. They stood and flipped through the pages together, making out what they could. Occasionally, the second man asked Melissa how she felt, if she had had any symptoms. She told him, that no she hadn't. Spraypaint, Achmed and herself all felt fine.
Someone came and took their temperatures and looked over their bodies. In the meanwhile, smelling salts were used to wake The Mad Scientist up and he was being questioned. He rambled and made very little sense.
“They'll see, they'll see. Then they will all know ... ,” The Mad Scientist spoke. “I'm great you know. I'm really great, and they'll all see.”
The water gun was retrieved from the van and taken to another van. The detective and the man from the CDC said that they were taking him to the mental ward where he would be under surveillance and constant police supervision. They said that they water gun was being tested in the van for all known pathogens and evidence of microbiological existence.
“All evidence at this time points to there being no disease,” the detective spoke. “It would seem as if this man was attempting an experiment of sorts on the placebo affect. We cannot be sure until the tests come back, but I'm willing to bet my badge that everyone is going to be fine.”
Melissa felt herself collapse to the ground, as the tears over took her. Spraypaint sunk down next to her, and hugged her close. She could hear someone speaking the same language as Achmed, acting as a translator for him. Achmed soon joined Melissa on the ground, hugging both her and Spraypaint.
The test results came back. There were no signs of any pathogens of any sort in the water gun. The liquid in it was water with salt and food coloring mixed in. Even if the water gun had been washed out and had had new liquid put in, there would still be signs of any pathogen in it. Especially since the water gun was made of plastic, which is highly porous.
Everyone was taken to the nearest hospital and the truth was explained to them. The few that could really grasp what they were being told, and allow themselves to believe it,began to have their symptoms go away immediately. Those who couldn't understand, or refused to believe continued to get sick. Rebbecca and Daniel were two of those who couldn't believe. They were to sick for there to have been nothing wrong, in their minds. Their flesh had been rotting away and they had very real infections. They hadn't been able to keep any food down for quite sometime, and they both knew that the doctors were wrong, they were too dying.
Little Sara was given a placebo antidote and told that it was going to make her all better. That's all it took for her, she was fine in a day. The doctors tried their hardest to convince Rebbecca and Daniel of the truth, but they inevitably settled on something else being wrong then. It was quite sad to everyone there, how powerful that mind really is.
Psychologists came, family came, none of it mattered. They weren't going to believe that nothing was wrong and that it was all in their heads. They were killing themselves with their own minds. Everyone else had been released from the hospital and told they could go home, but Rebbecca and Daniel held on to their illness.
After an intense argument with the doctors, Melissa rushed into Rebbecca and Daniel's room. The doctors rushed in after her, and tried to convince her to just leave. She wouldn't listen though, she had an idea.
“Rebbecca, Daniel listen to me. There is something wrong with you, we just found it,” Melissa blurted out, not sure where she was going with it. “You do have some sort of disease, but it doesn't seem to be highly contagious. You two must have had it before hand. Listen, there is a cure and they are getting it for you right now, OK? You two are going to be fine in a day or two, alright?”
The doctor stood quietly and watched their reactions at this point, he knew it would be vital. Rebbecca and Daniel both seemed to believe Melissa. Their trust for her had grown strong enough, that they were willing to believe that she held the key to their survival. The doctor nodded to a nurse who then left the room. Melissa set on the edge of the bed next to Rebbecca who was now crying tears of joy and holding on to Melissa.
The nurse returned with two syringes and gave them both an injection, then she left the room. Rebbecca and Daniel soon fell asleep, so Melissa went out into the hall. The doctor was waiting to talk to her. At first, she thought that he was going to chastise her for taking such a chance. He didn't though, he simply told her that she was right. He didn't believe that they could be convinced that they had found what was wrong and more than they could be convinced that nothing was wrong. He thought, with all honesty, that Mr. and Mrs. James would have just thought that they were trying to trick them again.
“I guess that I should thank you Mrs. Hoffer,” the doctor said. “I wouldn't have done that, and they would still be sick otherwise. It truly is a strange thing, the strength of the mind. They'll be fine now, you should go home. I'm sure your husband misses you. You haven't been home for more than an hour since all of this happened.”
“Yeah, I think I will. Please call me if anything happens,” Melissa said and then walked away.
