"I once got a call from the principal a certain morning. She informed me that bodily noises were

inappropriate and would not be acceptable in around school. Everybody takes things so serious.

 We're talking about a seven-year-old and armpit farts and actual farts. There could be so many other

worse things, and I don't agree with her decision but I had to listen because I was too shy and lacked

confidence to do anything. It wasn’t really an important event that caused anything major in my life

to be affected. I still don’t agree with the principle but I conformed to what the adults said.

Sometimes it is better not to fight for what you believe in but just sit back and relax and see how it

goes. It was just a story I like to tell because I basically stopped doing those type of things after that.

What is the best thing to do is listen to adults even though they don’t always right, but it’s nice to let

them think it though.

Waiting

The man who waited

But I can wait no more

Being twisted and turned

Confined to your mind

A prison cell of my own making

Shaped by your own desires

Can you imagine going through life

Could you let me go?

Or will you take me with you?

100 years and still I wait

Even when my heart has stopped

I will stay faithful that you’ll come

I can’t imagine life without you

Love is bliss but it’s harsh

Day in and day out it racks my brain

Wonder if you’ll come for me

As I dies, I won’t stop believing

“Clementine, look,” Stacy jabbed me in the gut.

                I leaned forward from the shade of the colorful umbrella to see the latest back to school fashions for young females on a jumbo TV.

“No, there.” Said Stacy and jerking my body in the general direction, where I saw a girl sitting opposite to me.

Some might notice how pretty she was with her long silky red hair, or even the fragile hourglass body with the most round butt that anyone set eyes on. She had flawless skin with no blemishes or bruises. But I notice her pain behind her eyes, you can look like the happiest person in the world but the eyes never lie. I can notice when things are off which lead me to the field in therapy, I want to help people.

“Isn’t she pretty, Clementine. I wish I could look as good as her someday” said Stacy

“Yeah sure, maybe if you have enough surgery then you could,” I said with a playful tone. But in the back of my mind I could not figure out the source of her pain. I wanted to run to her and ask what was wrong.

“Oh shoot, we got to go, Clementine. My boss said if I’m late one more time he will have my job.” Said Stacy

“I think it is a good idea.” I said still distract in the young girl. The way she kept touching her wrist and almost blocking all that was around her.

“There!” said Stacy when she put the cash on the table for the tea we had at the café like it was a very sweet victory. “Let’s go, I’m going to be late,” said Stacy as she was nearly dragging me from my ankles.

As I walked into the afternoon sun, my eyes could have turned hazel to blinding black, and my pale skin could melt off the grip of my bones. The walk wasn’t that bad because the office where Stacy worked was around the corner but what made the walk so agonizing was that could I have helped the young girl from earlier?

“Hey, Clementine, you are daydreaming again,” said Stacy. “What’s bugging you, Clem?”

“It’s nothing, Stacy, I’m just thinking about something,” I said abruptly.  Stacy knows that I like to over think situations and people and wanted me to stop doing it because I go kind of crazy. I know if I told her then she would be angry.

“Cool, and then let’s hurry, because I’m late” said Stacy.               

When we got to her office I thanked Stacy for the tea and went back to my office in Stillwater. Today was a very nice for an October day in Minnesota. Even the air smelled fresher, less like car exhaust, even though cars are just a street away. I flopped my butt into my bike and rode to my office. Usually on my ride to the office I would think that people are judging me because I’m a 37 year old on a bike to work.  When I got to the office I locked my bike on a very old oak tree that could have been here since the creation of this town.

“Why, hello, Miss Leochs,” said Mary.

“Oh, Hello Mary, any messages left for me,” I said.

“No, but you do have an appointment in twenty minutes though,” said Mary.

“Oh, how long is the session, is it an hour or two hour session,” I said curiously.

“I actually don’t know, Miss Leochs, All she said was that she needed a session at the earliest that we could fit her in, actually she just called several minutes ago,” Said Mary.

“Well Mary, I guess we should get the room prepared for the session. Wait, who she is by the way,” I said.

“Her name is…Sara Marie Quinn is the girl you are going to have your session with today,” said Mary.

“Okay, thanks Mary,” I said. I walked to my office wondering what this patients issue would be. I have gotten tired of people who think that they have something wrong with them. I wish I could have an actual patient who needs my help for real but-

“Clementine, she arrived early, do you want to see her early,” asked Mary.

“Why not, I have anything else to do,” I said with a sigh. As Sara walked in I notice something oddly familiar with this individual, I didn’t know how but I know. Then an image flashed before my eyes and it was the young girl that was across from me earlier that day. The girl I knew nothing about but wanted to help her.

“Hello, I’m Sara Quinn and thanks for see me on such short notice,” she said quietly.

“It’s okay, I didn’t have any other clients today,” I said amusingly.

“Okay then, uhm where do I go, “she said.

“Oh, you can sit on the couch right over there,” I said. As she walked over, all I could see was that her walking stiff and refined, it was very odd to me but I didn’t understand way. “Anyways, I think we should get started with a brief conversation about who you are and why you are here today,” I said.

“What is your name and how old are you?” I said

                I’m Sara Marie Quinn about 34 years old and my birthday is in several weeks,” she said.

“How lovely, so around spring is your birthday,” I said almost unenthusiastically.

“Yeah, around that, “she said.

It wasn’t until this question I asked her that I notice she hasn’t been making eye contact or talking confidently. All she does is play with her hair and look a little out of it. To test out if she was ever going to talk normal I asked her several other questions. “So do you have an occupation,” I asked suspiciously.

“Uhm I work at the local theatre as an actor, I’m not that good though,” she said.

“I’m sure you are good if you got into the play, anyways are you married,” I asked.

“I’m married to Steve Quinn who is a manager of the construction site,” she said.

During our whole conversation all I could notice was that she kept almost putting herself down or not ever looks directly at me when I talked to her. Due to this I was getting very anxious to know what her conflict could have been.

“Sara, why are you here today talking to me for,” I said. But almost before I could finish my question she almost blurted out her issue to me. I know the issue isn’t uncommon but the why she said it was almost blood chilling.

“Rape,” she said.

This was when I notice that she was looking directly at me with an expressionless face almost like it was carved out of stone.

“Wait, why aren’t you going to the police if you were raped,” I said.

“Were? Still,” she said.

“Would you like me to report it to the authorities, and who was it,” I said as I was reaching for the phone.

“It’s okay, I would prefer if you would not do that, it’s Steve” she said

After hearing it was Steve I told her about different ways that she could get help. During this time I knew I lost her attention again because she kept looking at the window almost daydreaming.

“Sara,” I nearly yelled.

“Yes, did I do something wrong,” She said.

“I’m sorry, I yelled but would you like to talk in detail on how it happened,” I said.

It’s started shortly after we got married; it was when it started with beatings, then sexual abuse,” she said.

Right as I was about to asked her about why this might happened. Mary came in to say that the session was other.

“Sorry, but the session is over,” Mary said.

I said sorry about not helping her much today but during the next few weeks we head meaningful conversation about the origin of how it might have started but was never sure. But there were a lot of things that bugged me but I didn’t let it get to me too much. It was our 4^th week talking and she was saying that this was her last session. We talked about her mother leaving and her mother being an angry drunk.

“Why are you not taking any more sessions after this,” I asked.

“I can’t take sessions anymore because…,”she said. She bolted to the door and ran away crying. I felt bad, so for several hours I nearly zoned out the other patients.

“Hello,” Mary said.

“What,” I said.

“Whose purse is this,” Mary said.

The purse was red with a black belt like lock on it. The purse was Sara’s and I was happening to return it to her house. I still had questions for her that have been bugging me. When I opened her purse to see her driver’s license I notices she live at 5562 Overlook Circle Se.

When I arrived I walked to the door and rung the bell several times and notice no one answered. When I turn the door knob I notice that it was open.

“Hello,” I said

                There was no one and it was dead silent. I looked around the house for several minutes and noticed nothing out of place. Then I saw a Ford truck pull into the driveway. I ran into the closet leaving only a little gap to see through.

                “Who is here,” Steve said when he walked into the house noticing that the door has been left open.

                Steve was a large man with a lot of cuts and bruises around his body, which was most likely from his job at the construction site. He must have looked 39 but it was kind of hard to tell in the dark. The next to come in was Sara. She looked like she was happy and confident.

                “Oh honey, I think is your imagination, just go to the room,” Sara said.

                “Okay, Sara,” Steve said.

                In the bedroom I started to hear screaming and objects breaking.

                “Ouch, please stop, it hurts, please,” Sara said.

                When I heard Sara’s screaming I ran into the room and heard a BOOM! A red stain spread on my white blouse, I feel to the ground. I looked up to see Sara holding a 5 chamber revolver and Steve standing motionless.

                “Why,” I gasped.

Stevenson

In the world of Tropuble, there are two suns which glowed crimson red during the stroke of noon. Today was a scorching hot day, where nothing could grow. It wasn’t only today but lately the last few weeks. A young male was walking cheerfully through the town wondering what he would do today. This young man was a short and slender man with black eyes and white hair. Everywhere he went, he would whistle the song of his people, The Tropubleans. He lived in a town so small that he could walk from one side of town to the other in 20 minutes. The town wasn’t that developed but everyone new each very well.

“I lived in a world called Tropuble, today it looked like the sky was glowing red because the 2 suns have marked the time of noon,” said Clarkleron. Today have been very hot, my doodupo plant didn’t grow today like it hasn’t for several weeks. I know it might suck now, but I’m still happy that it is still beautiful out. The bad thing is I keep getting sand in my black hair and eyes. I saw Madam Bleu and Mr. Stevenson selling their delectable fruits in the market. I sometime accidentally overthink and walk all the way to the other side of the town without knowing. But at least I could say hi to everyone.

The Lonely Man

                There is a man …if you could call him a man who lives in a desert. It is a hot and dry place, where not even the vultures can live. With every step each grain of sand would feel like branding irons on your feet. The scorching heating could thaw a frozen turkey in a matter of minutes. The heat could reach up to 140 degrees in the day and -20 degrees at night. It rains less than 3 times year, it is a hazardous and cruel area.

                In the morning he travels in the desert wrapped up like a baby in black from head to toe. Every morning he walks by himself enjoys the emptiness of the scene. The man who could not be called a man had yellow and black fang like teeth, black hair darker than a raven, his eyes are so black but you can still see the emptiness in them, and his was so white that it is nearly silver. He is extremely thin and isn’t right in the head. In the night he stands in front of a full-length mirror, gaping in horror at his reflection. What he saw was no longer the self he used to know, but instead a golem of a rotten flesh that doesn’t belong to him anymore.

                One morning he was admiring the same scene he saw every day when there was a shiny object in the far left horizon. He ran like a mad man to the mysterious object thinking “what is this evil running my scene.” He reached the object and picked up the mysterious object made of some type of yellow metal with two bony fingers. It had delicate carvings of the word L –O-V-E; it hung from a metal string. He thinks to himself wondering how it could get this far, he pondered on different scenarios that could of happened to have this metal necklace get this far away.

                The man adjusted the dark garment around his abdomen to make room for the necklace I his en casual walked back to his home the size of a shed without flinching at the heat. For hours after he returned home he admired the object, when he finally got tired he hooked the chin together and put in down. When he put it on the rotting female corpse he only uttered “complete.”