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Halloween Audiobook Coming – Your Votes Put To Spooky Fun

So after two days, we got all the votes in and you guys have spoken!

We’re going 1600 occult style witches, in a modern setting, with a family home. I can’t wait to write and record this, it’s my favorite time of year! I thought I’d make it even better by creating a fun, creepy audiobook. I haven’t gotten to make one in a while, but if you aren’t familiar with my work, you can find the audiostories here

Thanks for everyone that participated in the vote and I’ll get this up as soon as I can. I’m shooting for two weeks, just to make sure that it is done well, and still in time for the holiday.

Stay tuned, dearies. An awesome, scary tale is coming your way.

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Stay creepy, friends.

❤ Grey

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Halloween is Right Around the Corner – I’m releasing an audiobook in celebration!

Place your votes now!

It’s my all-time favorite time of year. Not just because of Halloween, but because it starts the kick off to all the wonderful holidays. There’s nothing like fall to winter─ all the beautiful colors, the crisp air and a time to enjoy family and food. My next special will be decided by a vote from all of you.

I’m polling on Twitter right now so you can pick:

  1.  the basis of the spooky (ghosts, witches, vamps, etc)
  2.  the storyline!

Once everyone votes on what they would like to hear, and the setting of the story, I’ll record my tale on post it on here!

I can’t wait to see what all of you choose.

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❤ Grey

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Understanding child abuse – An Open Letter To The Public – Part I

Warning. NSFL age 13+ recommended*

You just can’t understand. I don’t mean that to sound rude, but it’s true. Just like any other person that has experienced something you haven’t will tell you.

I can’t speak for other survivors of abuse.

I can’t tell you their story, how they were hurt, or how it affected their lives.

What I can do, is offer you an open invitation to my life, what I’ve gone through, and what others might be (or have been) experiencing.

 

No one likes to talk about child abuse. No one likes to admit it happens, especially when you are a child reaching out to the law.

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If they do know it is happening, many will tell you that it is better that you stay with your abusive parent than go through the system.

For a lot of cases and friends that I grew to know, this is sadly true.

 

I want you to take a moment and think about that statement.

 

 

 

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It is better to stay with an abusive parentthan to go through a system that is supposed to be designed to protect the child.

But it isn’t, is it? It’s a business. Just like any other. Except it shouldn’t be because a human life is on the line.

 

I listened to a podcast earlier in the year called Broken Harts. It was a horror story about how two mentally unstable women managed to adopt several kids. The kids were beaten, starved, and eventually─ lost their lives.

This really digs deep into many situations involving society and children. Way more than on the surface of kids getting bounced around, abandoned, and used as a business.

If you’re naive enough to believe that children aren’t used in sex trafficking that grow up in homes, my friends can tell you a very different story. It is a big money maker, and it’s enough to make you sick about humanity.

 

I won’t get too preachy, and this alone could be another topic of discussion, but we’ll move on.

 

I’m not the worst case you have heard involving abuse. I know there are worse─ far worse─ stories than my own. My stepfather was a prime example of the evils parents can do. (his own life, tragically, did not end well.)

I offer my own story to help with perspective on many others that have had similar experiences and my own thoughts about myself and others. I hope to help educate people through this experience, most importantly to help spread awareness and some compassion.

This journey is very personal to me. It’s raw, it’s very real and not appropriate for anyone under the age of 13. Be warned, things get very uncomfortable.

It’s opening up old wounds I’d long thought I had buried, or perhaps helped me realize several things about myself along the way.

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You ready?

 

Let’s go back to the beginning.

We won’t pour over every little thing, but we are going to journey through the memories that stuck out the most, and hard lessons learned at an early age.

 

Lesson 1: Stay Quiet, Stay Still.

Thankfully, many of us don’t start forming memories until we’re over the age of 3. There’s strong debate on whether we still retain things, or form habits before this age, but for argument’s sake, we’ll stick with what I remember learning.

To backpedal a bit, my own mother came from a cycle of abuse. Her mother abused her. Did it make it right that she did it to me? No. That was her normal, therefore, she continued what she knew.

Throughout the years, there was always a constant in my relationship with my mother. Tension/Anger would build, she would snap, sometimes yell, and then the beating, followed by a complete quiet and calm afterward.

This was usually because I would stay quiet and stay put. It was a mantra I would later learn to say in my head so that the pain would go away.

 

Stay quiet, stay still.  

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You learn this very young. As long as I make myself as small as possible and don’t fight back, it will be over soon.

I learned to read my mother’s triggers. Mostly it was a look when I would ask for something, or if she was in a certain mood, or angry about things in her life. I was the cure-all for her frustration.

Basically, I learned how to read body language and facial expressions very well. My survival depended on it.

My daily world was constantly changing. There was no such thing as normal, routine, etc. because my mother’s moods changed from moment to moment. Yes, she was bipolar, no she was not medicated.

Imagine life with a person who’s mood could swing one way to the next in seconds over the smallest things. Everything overwhelmed her. Now imagine that person had controlling issues and always snapped to anger. It was the first thing they jumped to and it was an uncontrollable rage.

 

Want to know the hardest part about this?

 

Also imagine a parent that would read stories to you at night, occasionally give you back scratches, and spend time and money on your room for you. She threw birthday parties, took us out, you know─ normal things too.

It can all be so confusing, not knowing which parent you would get.

Anyone that grew up with their natural parents and were abused─ wasn’t abused all the time. Don’t get me wrong, it was a daily occurrence and it was horrible, but it wasn’t everything that I remember.

Especially after my mother’s passing.

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You get so conflicted, and wonder─ was it really that bad? Maybe I’m being dramatic.

But you aren’t, and you know it because of the awful things that you wish were false memories, but were very real. You come to mourn what could have been, instead of what was. This is a later chapter we will get into, so for now we’ll put a pin in it and save it for later.

Appearances are everything to an abusive parent, and they will go out of their way to seem like things are fine.

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My mother spent hours perfecting herself before we would go anywhere. Her makeup, her clothing, her hair. We couldn’t leave until she felt she looked perfect, and that I looked perfect. Two perfect girls, with a dream life.

She constantly made strides to appear like everything we weren’t. Which was poor. I knew this was a frustration to her because when I would ask about a toy at the store she would snap and say, “we can’t afford it.”

We most certainly could always afford things for her. Interesting how that works.

 

Lesson 2: Cry Out For Help, I Dare You.

After the years passed, I reached around the age of five (kindergarten) when I realized that other children were not treated this way. I remember meeting other parents and marveling at how sweet and calm they were.

But it didn’t really sink in until I hit seven years old. I’m unsure about what the significance was at this age, or why, but my mother hit a new type of tactic at this stage. I was growing, my hair changing colors from blonde to a sandy brown. My mother, (who had been divorced from my natural father since I was a baby) hated it. She dyed my hair.

She dyed a 7-year-old’s hair because her daughter’s natural hair ‘looked filthy.’ She tweezed my eyebrows, dressed me in the frilliest dresses she could find and finally I could look how she thought I was supposed to look. Her darling dear with blonde curls, and sweet dresses.

I look a lot like my father. I suspect that there was a lot of hate held for me because of this. My mother hated my father. She would later describe that I would give her a look and it would set her off.

You see, all of my beatings were my fault because I was such a difficult child.

Her words would drone on and on about how hard I was to deal with and that she had always done her best. Denial is very strong with anyone, especially parents.

At school, teachers had noticed things about my behavior around kindergarten through first grade but nothing much was done about it. It wasn’t until around second grade that teachers really took notice of the bruises around my neck, and arms. I’m not sure if there was a change in policy, or they were more noticeable but never-the-less, CPS was informed.

There is only so much a school can do about abuse. The child has to have come into school with filthy clothes, bruises, and bags under their eyes for them to actually do anything about it. The parent has to be a repeat offender of dropping off the child late and showing up late. And that has to happen for weeks on end. It may be different now, but I’m speaking about what I experienced.

I learned that I would need to walk to school in order to make it on-time. So much of grade school, I walked in the mornings and walked home many times when my mother would forget to pick me up or was too late.

When all of it sort of came to a head, they notified my mother that a caseworker was going to be assigned to us.

She calmly drove us home. I remember that look─ the horrifying look of calm that was my mother’s face as we drove from the school to our house. It was the second house that my parents had rented. It was on a circle drive near train tracks with a small back yard surrounded by other little box homes like it.

It was at this time that my brother was nearing the age of two. He was my mother’s joy and she loved him very much. He was my stepfather’s child, which was very special to her. To clarify, I have never held a grudge against my brother for this. We actually get along and he is a great guy. It just was what it was. I was the product of a past she wanted to forget.

What I learned to fear the most from my mother was not screaming. Screaming meant a few slaps, hair pulling, maybe a few whacks with the belt.

Silence, calm─ it was terrifying. It meant something far worse.

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I remember that day, her gently laying my brother in his crib for a nap. She told me in a controlled voice to sit on the couch. She rocked and sang to him, her voice carrying through the thin walls. His room was just behind the living room t.v. so anytime he napped, we had to be quiet.

I remember hearing the love, the gentle coos, the wood from the chair creaking as she rocked in time. I secretly wished that it was me in her arms.

Then it was done, the door closed softly with a click.

I’d hoped that some of her anger had gone away. Maybe a bit of it had.

She sat next to me, wrapped her hand under my chin and tilted my eyes up to meet hers. None of this was done gently, there was clear anger there. White-hot anger beneath her blue-green eyes. She spoke one sentence,

“What did you do?”

Her voice was shaking as she held me in place and began squeezing my jaw into a death grip. She shook it once as she tugged me closer to her face.

My mind raced, I didn’t know how to respond or what I had done wrong. I just knew that my mom had been in the principle’s office. I knew I had to have done something, I just didn’t know what. I knew that my jaw was on fire and the pressure was killing me, but I dare not cry out.

She shook me, hard.

“I said,” she paused between shaking me and this time she gathered a handful of hair and pulled my head back, “what did you do?”

This was different. She didn’t want me to be quiet, it wasn’t going to suit her this time.

I don’t know why I did it, I’m still not sure if it was just instinctual or a form of defiance, but my head pulled away and I tried to run. I remember tears coming, even though I didn’t want them to.

My head went to a different place that day. It was something I think my mind began doing to help ease the distress.  I remember being pulled to the ground and my head screaming from the pain.

The world rang off-key, and it wouldn’t be until later that I realized I had been slapped in the head around my ear. She held my hair the entire time, keeping her voice low as she pulled and pulled dragging me on the floor. My face numbed as the adrenaline coursed through my body and I curled on the floor.

She finally released me after apologies flew from my mouth between crying. I didn’t know what I had done, but I knew that I should apologize. She stood up and told me that if they got into trouble over any of this, I was going to pay.

And if I ever, ever told anyone like that again I would live to regret it.

I wanted to ask what I’d done and what she meant, but I knew better. I had once asked and been hit harder for questioning her.

This is how an abuser works. They use fear to make you stay quiet. Believing that it will only get worse when you try and reach out.

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I hadn’t fully learned my lesson from this experience, or maybe I had grown tired of it when I grew older, but at any rate, this was a precursor to what was to come later.

That was the first time I’d heard her snap this way.

This was when she learned how to be sneakier with her hitting.

 

The CPS (child protective services) worker, like others, came and reviewed our family. My mom smiled, I smiled, we were the perfect family. I never opened up to my teachers again about anything that had happened. You see, my mistake was telling a teacher that my bruises were from my mom.

Lesson number two had been, never trust adults to protect you.

 

This is part I in this series. I will be posting more soon.

Remember to get hugs and love after reading these.

❤ Grey

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Fantasy Stories – Anna’s Adventures Part III

Part I

Part II

Here is the next chapter of our Twitter stories. More to follow soon. If you’d like to adventure with us, you can vote on my daily polls to see where Anna goes and what she does next!

Anna dove into the grass, rolling out of the direct path of destruction. She pumped her legs as fast as they would carry her. Dirt, and debris showered her. It was getting harder to see. Was she still running in the same direction?

There was no sense in looking back. She ran forward as long as her lungs would allow, the deafening whistle ever-present. Something hard smacked into her side, then after a few more strides across her face. She’d managed to stumble into the woods.

Even as far as she believed she had pushed herself, the screaming of the tornado had not lessened. Trees were being pulled, uprooted as close as 50 feet away. Her body felt as if it would be lifted at any moment. This was it, she really felt it. The end of everything.

#

The ground rushed at Anna’s face as thousands of tiny specs dug into her flesh. She clawed at anything she could as her legs flew out behind her. Her arms were quickly giving out. Maybe this was for the best─ maybe it was meant to be.

Her face crusted with dirt as tears streamed from her eyes. What had she done with herself? What had she done with her life? She was already twenty-nine with a dead end job and living off of her mother’s insurance money. How pathetic could you be?

Anna’s hands kept finding dirt. She stretched with all her strength, each grab more disheartening than the last. How long could this last? When would her arms finally collapse? She choked and sputtered as the dirt flew into her lungs.

Her arms collapsed, the wind whipping her hair in a tangled mess behind her. She felt herself being dragged backward as she pawed feebly at the dirt. The debris pummeled her head as she kept it low to the ground. It was the only way she could breath in the storm.

Anna felt the second she let go. All the good and the bad things she had done with her life flashed into her mind. What would her mother think? Simply letting go without a fight─to what end? Being swallowed up and ripped apart by a bit of rotating air?

A curious thing happened. One that Anna never knew she had within her. It bubbled up and yelled from deep within her, “I will not!” Her hands flew out and clawed deep into the earth. She gripped with all her might, pulling at all the roots, dirt, and debris beneath her.

With a hearty yell, Anna lunged forward a foot, maybe more, and then another. And another. Until her hand found air. She searched it frantically─ looking for solid ground. Finally, she found it. It was directly below her body. A cave? A drop? She didn’t know.

A tree ripped away beside her, a rock narrowly missed her head. It was as if the earth itself were coming uprooted. It was do or die, this moment, and it was her choice. She decided it far better a death than this and took the leap of faith.

#

Anna fell flat onto the other side. She wasn’t quite sure how she had landed on her back and remained upright, but somehow─ here she was.

She sat up, brushing the debris from her face, hair, and neck. The roaring had ceased, leaving behind a deafening silence. She sat very still, just inhaling and exhaling. She wondered if the boy was looking in on her. ‘We’re watching your every move.’ They’d said.

She drew her legs up, and though she didn’t trust them completely, and there was quite a bit of wobbling, she finally stood up. After a few more steadying breaths, Anna finally took a look at her surroundings. Her eyes widened.

The bridge seemed to stretch on forever. The more she looked, the further it went. Surely this was an optical illusion, there had to be a support somewhere. She looked up, and then behind her. It was a dead end, a solid wall of rock. Suddenly she felt very vulnerable on this small, grassy island. It couldn’t have been more than five feet in diameter, the whole of it! She peeked over the edge, only to find that the few pebbles that fell over from her shoes hadn’t made a sound. Was she…on a pillar? Anna spun around searching.

Yes, she found. There was literally nothing around and even if there were, you wouldn’t be able to see it. There was miles, upon miles of fog! It was a wonder that the bridge was so clearly visible. But then, now that she thought on it, they must have done this on purpose.

Anna ran her hands along the rails and gingerly pressed her foot onto the first few boards. There were no creaks or groans, it was incredibly solid. Like it were new, and yet old all at once. Someone had put some incredible work into this bridge.

The first dozen or so feet went by slowly, but after she neared thirty feet, she relaxed to her natural gait. It was a strong bridge, the sort she remembered walking across as a girl when her family went abroad. Those were good times, before her father had gone.

There were noises in the air now. Things that she hadn’t heard before. They were low and continuous, like a drone, and then high pitched sounds mixed in. It was as haunting as it was lovely, ethereal in its own way.

The smell reminded Anna of the sea. The air was chilly and damp. It was the kind of breeze that made you get goosebumps and all the hairs on your arms to stand on-end. She wasn’t sure, but it sounded like water was very near.

To be continued!

Thanks for adventuring with me. Let’s see what Anna gets in trouble with next time. ❤

❤ Grey

 

Fantasy Stories – Anna’s Adventure’s Part II

Here is the next chapter of our Twitter stories. More to come soon!

The boy opened the box to reveal a set of soft, grey robes. He left briefly, and then returned with strange bottles filled with varying liquids. The boy trilled at her, the noise calming and pure.

He waved toward the small enclosure. His hand glittered and then suddenly, the room brightened behind her. His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and soft, pillowy black soot flowed from them. They didn’t leak, but rather dissipated into thin air.

He tugged at her gently and she gathered that the robes and liquids were for her. He glided from the room, the only sound the door closing behind him. She stared down at the bottles, her brows creasing.

After a few whiffs, she noted one smelled like earth, another very flowery, and a third clean and mild.After making an executive decision, she chose the mild, clean scent. The space that was lit was carved from the same stone as everything else. Jetting out from the space were 3 triangle shaped rocks. Below them looked like some sort of pulley.

When she returned to the room, a letter had been placed on her bed. “The High Order has requested your presence before the hour of normal rising tomorrow. Please arrive on time, and in proper attire.” A strange symbol was stamped at the bottom. Something Anna could only assume to be one of the High Order’s names. Then she remembered earlier conversations with the boy about names, power, and meaning. This must have been their way of protecting their name. How very curious.

Anna shrugged off her robe, stepped into the space, and gently pulled down the latch. A blast of very warm water sprayed from every direction. She opened the bottle and poured a bit onto her palm. It smelled delightfully like laundry detergent.

When she woke, she found a tray of what looked like food. Upon closer inspection, it also smelled like food. She brought it up to her face and nearly melted at the smell of freshly baked bread. She devoured the entire loaf and was on her second, when the door opened.

The boy looked at her, smiled, and then sat in the nearest chair. He had a large book with him that he laid across his tiny lap. Anna looked to him, brushing the crumbs from her face. She suddenly felt very dirty sitting next to him and his tidy robes.

His voice sang out beautifully, like a bit of poetry on a wall of text. The book flew open, there was a flash and then images sprung to life before her. “We, the generation of the few, have waited for some time for a moment such as this.” A beautiful swirl of purple skated across the surface of the book and then formed into images of his people─ somehow managing to perfectly illustrate the swirling soot of their eyes. “Once, we lived side by side in perfect harmony.” The shapes changed to form their kind and hers walking together, laughing and hugging.

“But, like all things, that time came to an end.” The boy closed the book before she could see the lighted story that would follow his words. His expression was as silent as his words, showing nothing. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

“That, I’m afraid, must be saved for another time.” He stood and walked her over to the box. “I must advise that you be sure to dress yourself in the clothing provided.” The boy paused, looking up at her through long lashes. “Unless of course you prefer to die a horrible no good, and very painful death.” He giggled at the last statement & then strode toward the door. “Wait─” she called, “what trial? What do you mean death?” The door snapped shut with a metallic click. She sighed looking over at the box. Well, maybe he’ll disclose that later too.

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The morning air was far colder than Anna expected it to be as she shivered beneath the robes. Some parts, colder than others. This cloth they gave her was far too thin for her liking. She trailed slightly behind the attendant that had come to get her.

They were now crossing into an even further underground area. She could tell it was further underground because the air had grown damp in her lungs. After several heartbeats, they reached an open field. Human sized grass stretched as far as the eye could see.

A scroll fell to the ground & the attendant boomed loudly, “You will be up against your first trial of many. First, we will see how you compare & judge every action that you make. As we have been doing since your arrival.” With that, the girl nodded curtly and turned away. “Now just hold on a min-” she chased after the girl but ran face first into an invisible wall. “What test?” she yelled as loud as she could. But to no avail, the woman kept distancing herself from Anna.

She turned and the clouds behind her roll in hard and fast with a flash of lightening. 

To be continued as the voting progresses!

Stay tuned for our next adventure. You can vote on my Twitter to add your own spin. Let’s see where the fun takes us~

Until we adventure again.

❤ Grey

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A spiral cloud forms out in the field less than a mile out. It begins to grow larger and with horror Anna realizes it’s getting closer!

 

 

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Fantasy story – Anna’s Adventures!

Deep in the recesses of Grey’s mind is a story aching to be told. Just about all day every day I imagine things, I daydream, and I love to share it. It’s literally killing me not being able to release the novel I’m currently planning on getting published!

But, (oh, hohoho~) that doesn’t mean I can’t write for all of you still in some capacity. I love interacting with all of you, so I have a fun Twitter account that I like to poll, and tell tales. I realized, however, that some of you might not be able to keep up. So I can recap here! Here we go, enjoy~

Today, a young boy no more than 10 stumbled onto the driveway behind Ms. Anna’s home at 2401 Miracle Drive. He was lost, tired, and very malnourished. As luck would have it, she had just arrived from her trip to the local grocer.

The boy was quiet and answered none of her questions, except that he was lost and hungry. It was late, nearly 10 p.m. and Anna was unsure of what she should do.

Anna offers the boy food, not too much as it seems he hasn’t eaten in quite some time. Curiously, he eats most of it but stores the rest in his pocket. After some convincing, she managed to get him to follow her inside.

Anna knows that it is late, but she feels sorry for the boy and decides to let him stay the night before phoning the authorities. After a huge struggle, mainly because the boy was terrified of the shower, she managed to bathe and clothe him.

After several restless hours, Anna wakes to discover the boy has vanished from the bed. There is a soft light coming from the front of her home. The boy’s small frame is outlined by the bright glow of her phone. He stares at it, hunched over like a little golem. He’s watching videos, enamored by the lights and sounds. He hums along and mimics words. Almost like a baby would do.

Anna shook her head and smiled. The poor child probably couldn’t sleep. As she turned to leave, she bumped into her comfy chair. The boy froze and turned toward her. She blinked, then blinked again. Had her eyes played tricks on her? Maybe her tired mind had made it up. Surely smoke had not drifted from the child’s eyes. He smiled at her and reached his arms up, motioning to be held. Swooping him up, she shuffled them both back to bed.

Morning came just as sure as the March Drench. Anna poured the waffle mix into her iron and glanced over at the boy. He stayed glued to the small screen, kicking his legs and humming. He looked serene and so small in one of her shirts.

Suddenly the thought of losing him felt worse than calling the authorities, but in the end she caved. Anna dialed & waited, each ring more jarring than the last. Finally the brisk voice answered. She said child services would be in touch & then the line went dead.

They spent the day watching t.v. & eating junk food. Anna had tried getting his name a few times, but he wouldn’t say. She was sure child services had forgotten when her phone sounded. The woman on the line sounded cold & detached.

Anna finished making his care package & got him ready for the person who would pick him up. She had sewn his tattered clothes & added in a few colorful patches from her old scarf collection. She’d just dressed him when her phone rang.

The woman on the line sounded apologetic as she explained that she was having car troubles. “Would it be alright if I come by in the morning? I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.” Anna smiled and agreed to have her come then. How exciting! Another night.

They had just finished up a movie when the boy yawned and stretched across her legs. He gazed up at her adoringly with deep, dark eyes. She instantly was drawn to how deep a brown they were. They were, in fact, so deep that she spotted something jet across the space next to her t.v. Her head snapped up to barely catch the hint of a small, furry creature no larger than a guinea pig with a long, pillow-y tail. A twinkling laugh escaped from her small visitor as he leaped up & chased after it.

Anna’s eyes grew wide as he rushed through her front door! She had no idea that he could move so quickly. She rushed after him, calling out “boy─wait, it’s dangerous!” She barely saw him fly into the trees behind her home.

Without thinking Anna dove into the forest after the fleeing child. She charged forward as fast as her legs would take her over small dips, brush, and finally leaping over a small creek. She sighed, bending over at the waist.

The boy seemed to have endless amounts of energy, but for some reason or another he paused, staring up at the trees. Anna gulped down a few breaths and lumbered over to him. Her arms wrapped around his small frame and she pulled him close.

Something shone on the edge of her vision, a flash of soft, yellow light. Anna stared at the bend of light, like an event horizon. The center was as black as…the boy’s eyes the other night.

She approached the ring of light, enthralled by the thin yellow line. The black was so dark that it continued forever. Anna felt the boy’s hand encircle her own and he tugged at her gently. His laughter sounded and his other hand extended into the darkness.

For a second, his eyes crinkled and she saw swirls of the same darkness spill from his eyes. Then he stepped into the darkness, keeping his grip on her. Anna stared hard at the direction of her home. What if this sealed up? Would she be able to get back? Her arm passed over to the other side─ It felt warm and safe. When she really thought about it, her life had really taken a turn for the dull.

When had she ever done anything with it? Making a snap decision, she stepped forward and left her world behind.

As soon as she crossed over she felt it. There was no going back. At least, not the way they came in. As far as she could see, there were low ceilings, long stretches of tunnel, & no light. It was just just tall enough for her to stand up─ a little over 5 feet.

Anna screamed as something furry zoomed past her leg. The boy didn’t even seem fazed by it, giggling at her outburst. She quieted, allowing her eyes to adjust. But they never seemed to. Everything was horribly out of focus and dark.

There was a shuffle, and then the child spoke: “lumena” He called softly. From his fingertips came a purple glow. It seemed to encircle only the two of them. It was her turn to latch on to him. “Where are we?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer, but instead let a sort of hum mixed with a …purr? Anna’s brain had decided a purr sounded right. She mimicked the sound back at him questioningly. A loud laugh from him gave her all the response she needed.

Anna sighed as they continued taking a left at one bend, and a right at another. They had been walking for what felt like miles. “At some point,” she said, “you’re going to have to tell me a name.”

He paused, staring back at her. His expression was impossible to read, the only thing that seemed to make any movement was the swirl from his eyes. She’d gotten used to it by now, slowly accepting that it was part of his reality. Which was quickly becoming her own.

“Why do you name all of your things?” he asked. That took her back. “Well, don’t you?” His mouth twisted up at the corner from her question. “We name what is important. And a name, is sacred.” They continued forward, the glow from his hands extending further out.

Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel. By the sounds, Anna knew that they were in a very large space. The boy flicked his wrists & the light streaked over to another area which then lit another, & then another.

A towering, glittering city with millions of lights stand before them. A slight wind picks up Anna’s hair as she stares at thousands of tiny movements below. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her hand sought his as they moved forward.

After several more hours of walking, they finally reached the entrance. She stared into the open area with people roaming around. They were like the boy, but slightly taller. They took notice of the two of them, but went about their own way.

After several curious moments, she couldn’t help herself. “Why aren’t there any guards?” The boy cocked his head to one side & his eyebrows pressed together, “Guards? Why would we?” She had many more questions after this, but decided to keep them to herself for now.

The two of them finally came to the center. A tower stretched before them, stairs spiraling the outside and lit every ten feet. A double door with carved oak and two brass knockers stood dead center.

The boy pulls her toward the door, knocks three times loudly, and then stands back. The doors open inward with a deep echo. Anna stared around in awe. Everything had been carved completely from stone.

Four large statues depicted human-like faces surrounded by robes. They all surrounded a beautiful glowing stone that shone with a vibrant, purple hue. It dimmed, then grew brighter. The boy next to her froze in place, looking from the stone to her.

Anna watched as the boy’s shoulders dipped down and he let out a sigh. From the shadows, two large figures appeared. A gargled voice sounded from the left, “why have you brought It here?”

A second, smooth and higher pitch voice says, “and on such an occasion, young one.” The boy pressed his hands together in front of him, then spread them apart like he was opening a book. A soft light flashed for a second, and then it was gone.

There’s the briefest of silences and then finally the smooth voice speaks. “You believe It to be so?” The boy hums, then nods. Anna suspects it to be for her benefit. “If I ma─” the smooth voiced figure holds up a hand, silencing the garbled voice.

A long, tense silence follows. The boy’s face stays calm, but there is a gleam there Anna never noticed before. “A trial, then.” The garbled voice states matter-of-factly. The boy flushes, then again nods.

Four symbols appeared in the amethyst stone before them. The boy looked at Anna from head to toe. He appeared to be sizing her up. After a few seconds of deliberation, he chose.

She wasn’t sure what the boy had decided for her as the vertical lines appeared by themselves floating for several moments before vanishing. She was quite certain that this couldn’t be a good thing. Trial? No, definitely did not like the sound of that.

The boy tugged at her arm and inclined his head toward the shadows. After a few heartbeats, he again tugged at her arm. Following suit she bowed her own head and then stood. In seconds, maybe just a breath away, their presence was gone.

#

After sitting in her room for some time, Anna began to worry that maybe the boy had left her. Alone in this strange world. She had no idea where ‘here’ even was. They had traveled through a portal. Were they even still on earth?

The more she puzzled over it, the more it hurt to think about. What of her home? Her job? Would she be here, lost forever? Mother had always warned her she had a squirrel of a brain and jumped from limb to limb without thinking. Anna grinned as the door to her room opened.

Her grin fell at the sight in front of her. It was the boy, yet he was different. He was adorned in deep black robes. So dark in fact that the light wouldn’t bounce from it. With him, he carried a beautifully engraved box. It was purple, with intricate silver etching.

 

More of our story to come soon. Hugs my fellow adventurer’s.

❤ Grey

 

 

Gallery

We Are The Last – Chapter 1 – A Sci-Fi Novel

Chapter 1

We are the last.

In three minutes and fifty-nine seconds, we will die and humanity with us. I stare across at the last people on earth and I can’t help but wonder what could have been done differently. How had we reached this point in time to where the entirety of the human race resulted in the three women and two men that existed in this room? None of us can find the courage to look each other in the eye. Maybe it’s that we grow weary of breath.

Each of us has found their respective corner in the room except me. I’m positioned in the center, staring forward at the comforting brown shades pulled shut. A few of them shuffle, growing restless at the last remaining moments. Three minutes. There’s a part of me rising, I expected as much. Human survival instinct is famed for its stubbornness. Or, it used to be. Something is eating at me.

There was something some years ago that a professor had mentioned in my Chemistry class. I hadn’t thought much on it until the following year in Biology. The breaking down of cells, how gravity had a profound effect on humans. Not surprisingly it went all the way down to a molecular level. Aging wasn’t only in our DNA, it was the product of the combined forces of environmental pressures and the strains we placed on our bodies. I’m not sure why I am thinking on this now, but I know I am on to something. All of the others may have lost faith in themselves, but I have never given up.

Three minutes and thirty-nine seconds. The large numbers on our Scyvies glare back at us from our wrists, the once calming blue a countdown to death. I close my eyes and draw a breath savoring the clean, fresh air. This wasn’t like back home, where it was required to walk outside in a mask. I always did, knowing what waited on the other side. That stench would never go away, no matter how many times they cleaned it. It wasn’t the stench that was the hard part. It was what followed from smelling it. Memories. Memories that we would all soon try our hardest to forget.

“Hull, cut it out.” A low rumble cuts the silence.

I ignore him, keeping my eyes pressed shut. I breathe in, then out, my mind grasping at the earlier memories. There’s a faint glimmer suspended in the back of my eyelids. I slow my heart rate, only focusing on my breath and the image.

“I said knock it off,” Harris growls.

There’s a faint scraping noise as Harris jumps to his feet. I again respond with nothing. Let these assholes give up. I’m finding a way out.

“Put a cork in it, Harris.” Ash drawls. I can’t help but smile at the tough son of a bitch. She never takes anyone’s shit and always has my back. She’s never understood me, but she fights like hell by my side. I think it’s secretly because she buys into what I’m selling. I should have gotten into the pyramid scheme business, I would have made a fortune.

“I will not put a fucking cork in it, breeder.” He spits on the floor. Harris has gone too far. That word is inexcusable, especially on this team. The room gasps at the word. I’m waiting for some kind of angry retort, or hear Harris howl in pain. The only thing that sounds is Ash’s snort and then quieted words.

“I’m going to remember that after me and Hull get out of here, shit stain.”
I feel the air stir as someone seats themselves in front of me. Their scent hits me and I know it’s Ash. Her calloused fingers rest over mine and her energy washes over me. It’s warm like summer rain.

“These idiots might not see it, but something’s changed ‘bout you in the last few minutes.” I smile crookedly at her words. Perceptive as ever. I don’t open my eyes.
“You remember last year, by the docks?” She’s quiet for a few beats, mulling it over. “You talking about that time traveling nonsense from your professor again?” The glimmer is turning into a distorted image. It reminds me of looking out from a window in my youth. My breath hitches for a second as sweat beads my brow. It is a window. A small two foot by two-foot window from the old house off of Jupiter Run. The distortion is from the rain, pouring outside. I can’t get over the smell. I’ve never been able to get it right over the years but today it’s there. A strong smell of gardenias, fresh cut grass, and dirt. Ash is here next to me, but still only seated in the room.

“Hull, that’s pseudo-science BS. You know that, right? Time travel ain’t real.” Her voice betrays her inner thoughts. I can tell she is getting excited.

“What the fuck is with you two? Acting like you got some way out of this. It’s bullshit.”
“Harris,” Cutter’s voice is like velvet, but there is a distinct edge to it. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, you’re not going to make the last minute or so with the rest of us.”

Harris quiets and there are footsteps as the others circle around me and Ash. Our Scyvies give us the last minute warning with one small beep. “You two hippies going to enlighten the rest of us?” Dawn has finally decided to join in. Mostly, because Cutter has. They had been travel companions for years before they met up with the group.

“We don’t have enough time for me to explain in full.” I mutter, “You remember what I taught you?”
Harris is on the floor, beside himself in laughter. “Here we fucking go again. Join our consciousness, find your fondest memory, travel back to your youth, our minds are the key. God damn horseshit.” His laughter is the only one in the room as the others quiet. Our breathing begins to sync. I let my mind wander back to that moment. The temperature in the room begins to drop rapidly. I know they are getting it ready for our swift departure. I’d read somewhere that it barely took a handful of seconds before you were gone. Even if this doesn’t work, at least we can die knowing that we tried.

The Scyvies give the thirty-second warning, two small clinks in rapid succession.
In seconds, the room is gone. I can no longer feel myself drawing breath or the goosebumps that have spread across my skin. The dull pain in my back and slowly numbing hindquarters has disappeared as I travel along the length of the glimmer. I find myself wondering what this must look like to the others. Everyone’s ride is different.

What are they seeing at this very moment? Ash is probably remembering the heat, long summers, and popsicles. She could go on for hours talking about the different flavors of popsicles, and each of her favorites and why. It was an odd thing, hearing a teen girl pine over flavored ice, but I knew they meant more than that. Back when her father had been alive, he had run a small Popsicle stand with snacks on the weekends for the local kids. It was an outdated thing for the time, but the kids loved it. They would set alarms on their visors, unplug and venture outside to have one of his homemade masterpieces.

Most of us had plugged in some time ago and never came back. It started around the year 2025 with the VR technology at its peak. Everyone that was anyone owned one. With prices dropping by the months, it was possible for just about everyone to get their hands on one. Eventually, they became state issued if you were of school age and was mandatory to own one for the public school system. Because of the decline in need for office space, and with the new technology, most people contracted from home. If you needed something, you ordered it online. It was then directly dropped through the wall in a chute so that it wasn’t left outside.

Theft was a way of life in most units and was expected. If something was left outside of your door, or you hadn’t had a proper chute installed, that was your own problem. There were a few people that didn’t either have the means, or the mental capacity to actually own VR gear. These were known as the Outsiders and them like many others existed before the drastic decline in the population around 2039.

It wasn’t that the people stopped having children, it’s that there was no longer a desire or need to. Fast forward to 2051 and just about everyone had opted out of childbirth or test tube children. Once we had located the specific chain of DNA that caused aging, along with decreasing the effects of outer stimuli, such as gravity damage as well as pollution, people were living to be hundreds of years old. We had some inkling of aging according to the history books some time ago.

Around the year 2006 scientists had begun to realize that eating too much, in combination with too much direct sunlight also contributed to the rapid deterioration of cells on the molecular level. Once we unlocked the secret of aging in our DNA, most aging could be entirely reversed or frozen. It went from monthly treatments to every six months, and then finally years. Before the global war, the United States had boasted that their scientists were working on a formula that you would need only take once in your lifetime at the exact moment you wanted to freeze your aging.

For the elders, this also meant that in just ten small treatments, they could go back to their peak years in their life. We had finally discovered the fountain of youth, and it came not from the box jellyfish-like people had suspected it would, but by accident from a single man that had spent his entire life isolated from the world.

Robert Cromwell, of the 200 block on Beacon St. in Somerville Massachusetts had been recorded as owning the property since the early 1930s. According to the bank records, the house was family owned and had been passed down for generations. That was only partially true. It was true that it had run in the family and had been since the 1930s, but the owner wasn’t Robert Cromwell Jr. As a matter of fact, Cromwell had no children whatsoever. He had simply changed his name over the years.

When they had discovered his secret in 2033, he had lived to be a hundred and thirty-three years old. This wouldn’t have been odd, except for the fact that he appeared to be a twenty-five-year-old male, with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. The man had more money than several generations of families combined, and yet curiously he stayed in the quaint two-story home with blue paint and white trim. It was sad, really when they confiscated his home and he was imprisoned for tax evasion. He later died in his jail cell three months into his sentence and the public was told that he had a rare genetic disorder that didn’t age him on the outside, but that his organs had failed him.
None of us bought that.

It became a long-running joke on the internet. Sites dedicated to finding the man that could cheat death. Like many conspiracy nuts, people would post photos of Cromwell in a cabin in the woods, or in other countries boarding a plane. But there was a difference now, people could immediately tell if the photos were fake or not using simple software you could download from any mobile device, and it was free. More often than not he was spotted in a type of military garb or a lab coat, which lead everyone to believe that he had in fact, not died but had been forced to join a team of scientists so that old wealthy people in California and New York could buy their way into eternity.

Many people believed that we would eventually just upload our consciousness onto a hard drive and into bodies that never aged. But the issue with this was how to do it. It was never taken directly from the source, it was collected from various social Media, texts, emails, recorded Skype conversations, facial recognition software and personality traits related to them, and then used to create a ‘perfect being with no need of organs.’ The issue with this is that even with advanced programming, we still had not mastered the ability to make them entirely─ human.

They could mimic humans and could come damn close to actually being human but they still couldn’t pass the Turing test. Even now, in the year 2067, we still have not mastered it. Though, to be fair we stopped pursuing that quickly after finding the secrets to our own aging process. A.I. was now used as a means of cheap labor, sexual pleasure, and companions. Since humans no longer had a need for procreation, the poverty line grew exponentially.

The middle class completely dissipated, leaving behind two types of societies: the wealthy and those that survived. The ones that were left behind were stacked up on each other in slum-like buildings all over the world. Each space was sized perfectly for the decline in a normal household size. By 2015, the average of 2.54 dropped down to 1.5 by 2055 in the U.S. By the time we had reached the year 2060, most maternity hospital wings had been replaced and children based businesses had been shut down.

I know later generations if in fact there is any left, will probably wonder what all of this has to do with my current situation. I’ll get around to that if I make it through this next part in one piece. I’ve ridden the glimmer many times before but never for this long. Not to mention, I don’t have a current body to go back to so hopefully this all works out. If it doesn’t, well hell─ I guess all of humanity is fucked and this will just be one for the history books when an alien civilization finds it. I’m still pissed off that after all these years, there’s still no sign of intelligent life out there.

Then again, they might have taken one hard look at our society and decided to nope the fuck out. In any case, about five feet in front of me is the answer to all of my questions. Hopefully the solution I’m looking for. I want to walk through the second I see it, but I pause by the entrance of the rift. I’ve never traveled with anyone else, so I’m not sure if I actually am going to see the others or if I just walk through. From down the hall, I hear the ten-second warning from the Scyvies.

If I had to describe what I’m looking at, I’d compare it to a long tunnel made entirely out of fractured light that bent every twenty feet or so in different directions. My footsteps make no sound and you can see directly through the floor. As a matter of fact, I’m not entirely sure there is a floor. I’m fairly certain my brain has decided that the way my head is facing is up and wherever my feet land is down. There is a distinct odor traveling along the length of the glimmer and I know my time is gone. Not a single person has appeared next to me, so I know they either have to meet me on the other side, or they are lost like everyone else. This was it, it was now, or never. I dive through the tear in time and tumble onto the hard floor.

“Winner, winner, sky friend! Come now to collect your prize at 3112 West Main Street. Fame, wealth, and fortune are just around the corner─” I wave my hand silencing the bot. If where I initially thought of is actually where I am, then I know I’m back to my old loft off of Cadiz near Downtown. My head is killing me, but I manage to pull myself up to a sitting position. It’s muggy in the small space from all the rain, so I know it has to be spring or fall. A quick glance out the window tells me what I need to know─ it’s definitely Fall.

I’ve never done this before, so the next part hits me as a bit of a shock. Bile shoots up the back of my throat and spills all over the concrete floor and wall. I’m silently cursing my ignorance because I must have eaten a fucking turkey dinner before I got here. I dry heave for several seconds when the bot starts back up again, “Feeling ill? Try these home remedies from Natural Market supply house. Choose from these all natural flavors─” I growl and wave my hand again. “Alexa, purchase one month of bot-free access,” I yell. “Understood, would you like to enable single voice command purchase now?” I grind my jaw, “yes, fine whatever just shut that thing up.” “You have purchased a one-month premium bot-free access to─” “yes, thank you, Alexa, that will be all.” “Understood. Goodbye.” I sigh and look down at the mess I’ve created on both myself and my loft.

I stiffen as I remember what day this is. Normally, people like to travel back to happier times. Not me. I wore my depression like some badge of pride at this age. It was the first, and last time, that I would be twenty-three years old.

I was born at the tail-end of the depression in the year 2025. They, of course, didn’t call it that, but the recession was just a nicer way of saying, ‘we’re all fucked financially.’ My mother, one of the few traditionalists, conceived me the natural way. She never wanted a partner, so she chose to be artificially inseminated with her best friend, Laura. It wasn’t that uncommon by then for women to blend DNA with other women, it was a simple process using bone marrow. And thus, Jamie May Bonham was born on a windy day in October in a sad, one bedroom apartment with a midwife older than dirt. My mom had been pushing forty at that point, and the doctors had warned her that it could destroy her body if she didn’t get treatments. My mother, with all of her southern charm, told them to promptly go to hell and take their damn technology with them.

Lily May Bonham was nowhere near as delicate as her name would suggest. Mom took pride in being the only female engineer in her department. She was every bit a scientifically minded individual as she was religious and I always found that side of her peculiar. We would have discussions at length on how I believed science was the only answer, and she would talk about how they could go hand in hand. She never told me how to think, and that’s what I loved about her. She never told me I was wrong unless of course, it was on a math problem. She was ruthless with those. The point I’m making is that she never made me feel inferior to her, not for one second. This made me realize later that she was wise much beyond her years. Some people went entire lifetimes and never grasped that concept.

My mother loved to exercise. It was understood that the first part of the morning was set aside for her. It was a quiet time in which I was encouraged to go online and read my books assigned for the semester. I never actually enjoyed reading, but I loved being read to. I had loads and loads of audiobooks at my disposal and I listened to them every morning as I downed my protein shakes. Some time ago, the food crises due to over cropping all of the farmland made actual food extremely expensive. Food vouchers covered the necessities, which were up-to-and-including: nutrient shakes, or bars, water, and salt. If you wanted grown fruit, veggies, or real meat─ it was the equivalent of three month’s salary for one meal. It was a way for the government to claim that it was to help bring down obesity levels and for our own benefit.

A few times before mama died, we actually got to try real fruit. I still salivate thinking about that nearly fifty years later. Ironically, her rigorous exercise routine was her undoing. We lived pretty well for the time, which meant that the neighborhood hadn’t turned into the shit stain it is now. My mother ran for six miles once a day five days a week. I’m not sure why she chose this arbitrary number, but she was very cross with herself if she didn’t make her goal. The day had been much like it is now, rainy and the air clung to your skin. She had given me a kiss on the way out, telling me to be sure to run on the treadmill for a minimum of thirty minutes with a five-minute cooldown. I nodded, eager to get to the next chapter in my latest action adventure and murmured a quick, ‘I love you too’ as I plugged in. The mechanical lock was the last thing I heard before the worst day of my life happened.

I didn’t start to get worried until lunchtime rolled around. At first, I thought that maybe she had decided to stop by the market and surprise me with a candy bar, or piece of fruit. I made the first call to her phone at two pm, then four, and finally five-thirty. I was just about to phone Laura when the apartment’s auxiliary system informed me that an officer was at our front door. It was the backup system since the police did not yet have a direct line to my headset. More than likely, my mother had placed a passcode on her phone which was an incredibly outdated tech for the time and the officers hadn’t known what to make of it.

I don’t remember a lot from that day, but I do remember the knot in my stomach that twisted as I placed one foot in front of the other. I knew if they were there, it meant that they had to have checked her implant since she wasn’t conscious enough to give them the direct line. As I approached, I remember the officer had called out his badge number and informed me that he was there to give me news on my mother. I swallowed thickly and opened the door. At the time, I had barely made out what they said, but I got the gist of it. She had stopped by a local market on the way home. A man that was fed up and desperate had picked that moment to set off a bomb that had taken out half the city. There were no survivors, including the bomber. I had numbly thanked the police officer, took what little was left of my mother from him and closed the door.

The second worst day of my life was the current day that I chose to go back to. That sounds confusing as hell when I think about it. I haven’t fully grasped how I’ve managed to get here, but I have a few good ideas. That’s the key, making sure that I know how so that I can share all of this with the others. I’m nearly thirty years in the past, right before the global revolution took hold. I stare down at the clear liquid in the syringe laying on the floor in front of my feet. I thought that I had put this day behind me, but my subconscious must have chosen this moment because it was a huge turning point in my life. I rolled the needle around the ground with my foot, staring at the temptation for the second time.

Had I have actually done it right back then, maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. When I had pushed the fluid into my arm the first time, I had passed out before I emptied the entire thing. It left me in excruciating pain for hours before my neighbors called it in after getting home from work. I crush the liquid tube beneath my foot into the other mess I made on the floor, digging my heel in defiantly. I would not revisit that place again. I lost countless hours locked away in that place when I could have done so much more for people. Our people. There’s a mechanical whirr as the iBo fires up and starts vacuuming the liquid mess.

It was standard issue for the stacked units, in an attempt to keep out pests. There was one stationed between two units on each level. Each floor in our particular unit was fairly spacious in our building. Compared to most units that preferred to cram in anywhere from 18 to 22 units, our building only allowed 12 units per floor. The only reason that I’ve gathered from this is that my mother left a substantial amount of money when she passed on and she owned this unit in full. Many places in the city started allowing you to pay off a unit if you were born in a certain year. I was lucky enough to actually be grandfathered in and the place was mine. I change shirts and then walk up to the sweeping bot, staring as it removes the contents and then pauses.

The blood drains from my face as I realize what it’s doing. Shit. I leap across the room, knowing that it is going to dock and report its findings. I can’t allow that. I hastily rip at the panel on top, push down and then lift the covering. It’s still charging toward the wall, I’m shocked how much pull this small device has. If it manages to actually make it before I can figure out what to disconnect, the authorities will be here in seven minutes. I have twenty feet at most and it’s moving one foot a second.

Shit, shit, shit.

I’m following along like a dog sniffing at their owner’s hand for food. I could jam the wheels that would buy me time. I find the nearest piece of cloth and rip it off the window. The floor is concrete so it isn’t used to going over the carpet. Most places didn’t have carpet anymore because it was found to be incredibly unsanitary. There’s a groan and then a strong odor as the moving parts get caught around all the fibers. I nearly shout in excitement as it stops eight feet from its destination. It would buy me at least three minutes before the front desk was notified that the bot had malfunctioned. Then a few more before maintenance would be knocking at the door. I locate the belly of the beast and push down the release switch. A warning buzzer sounds and I curse loudly at the empty space. Why the fuck did they make these things so fucking difficult?

Those three minutes would turn into seconds because it would notify the office that someone was tampering with the device. What’s done is done. I still have time before they would come up the elevator. I finally get the container free and open the latch. All of the glass and metal is there. I cross over to the cabinets and pull out a bag, then pick out all the pieces of glass and metal and dump them into it. I have to leave most of the dirt, or it will look suspicious. I’m about to put it back into the vacuum when I realize something. The liquid isn’t there. Fucking idiot.

I hear the ding at the end of the hallway and leap over to the front door. Most units didn’t have a top lock, but ours did. I turned it and then bolted back over to the vacuum. I could hear the men talking as their keys jingled down the hallway. I have ten seconds, twelve at most before they are at my door. I’m frantically searching where I pulled the dry vacuumed contents out, but there is no other container. I angrily flip the vacuum over and finally find it. I want to scream in anger, but I manage to jump to my feet and pull at the island drawer where I kept all of my small tools.

I rip at the small drill and hope that it all charged. Bit, bit, I yell at myself. I locate the smallest sized one and run over just as I hear the guys walk up to my front door. “Alexa, industrial music” I call frantically. Loud mechanical sounds with base start filling the area as I flip the switch on my drill. The noise is softer than the music playing and I sigh in relief. The bolt removes easily, but I have less than a handful of seconds before the men will be beating down my door, or call the authorities. I’m less than happy when I finally tear it free. There are a bunch of clear liquids and then brownish liquids in the front. It’s a series of small rows with several of them.

I press my hands into my forehead as I hear the first knock at the front door. There has to be a code for each unit. It’s evenly distributed into eight cylinders, the two nearest the front being darker─ which meant that they must be older. That left the middle units and the ones near the back. Here was my problem. I couldn’t just remove all of the liquid, that would land me in for questioning by the local PD and if tampering was actually evident it would turn into a federal case. I had to put something into the container or they would know that I had removed it. But which one?

The intercom sounded as a gruff middle-aged man cut over the industrial music. “Please silence your music and answer the door within thirty seconds, or we will contact local authorities.” Alexa paused the music. “The maintenance crew seems to be outside of your unit and is unable to get inside. Penal code 1174-2 paragraph 4─” “I understand, thank you, Alexa. I am complying. Please turn on my shower.” “Understood.” Alexa flipped on my shower. I ran to the bathroom and pushed the telecom button. “I’m here,” I shout, “sorry, I’m in the shower. Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.” The guy lets out a long sigh and grunts. “You got thirty seconds.” I let go of the switch and douse my hair in water, careful to not get it on my shirt. I’m still grasping the liquids as I run over and get a glass from the shelf. It was now or never, I bring the liquid eye level and decide on the back right. It’s clear but has a slight bluish tinge. This has to be it, the other looks like water. A really loud knock comes from the front again.

It sounds extremely impatient. “Yeah, yeah” I mutter. I dump most of the liquid into my glass and stick it in the refrigerator. Then I fill the rest of the tube up with water from the sink. I can’t keep the poison there all day, it will do a scan before I go to bed tonight. But it’s safe for now. I race over to the vacuum, shove the tubes in the way they were facing before and quickly hand screw the bolt in.

“Resident 10127, you are hereby warned that I am going to call local authorities─”
“Sorry” I yell, opening the door. “I slipped on the tub when I got out. It’s going to leave a nasty bruise.”

The man waiting at the door for me is every bit as gruff as I expect. His beady brown eyes are cross as he points a meaty finger my way. “What the hell is going on here?” He hasn’t listened to a word I said. Thankfully, I look about as flustered as I feel and I take a few breaths, steadying my voice. “Like I said, I was rushing to get out of the tub and I slipped and fell.” He stares at me for a few seconds. “Well?” I blink and look from him to the artificial unit next to him.

At first glance, the A.I. units look human, but when you look closely at them, you can tell they aren’t breathing. This unit is a simple older model with red hair and freckled skin. He is tall, close to six foot three and his skin is paler than mine. “You going to let me do my job so I can get to the other few hundred units that need servicing today?” I blush a deep scarlet and step back from the entrance. The A.I. unit looks to me as his partner enters. “You may enter,” I say quietly. The unit nods and steps into my loft. This always makes me uncomfortable, how the older units are programmed. We had to give verbal permission for them to enter. I really don’t like talking with anyone, unless I have to. I hear the older man let out a curse. “God damn son-of-a-bitch ate the curtains. Management ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout this.” He had the lingo that most blue collars did around here, with a heavy accent. He was definitely from the North East.

“Red, get your ass over here. Now.” The unit increased his pace as he rounded the corner to meet with the old man. I pulled the door shut and took a casual stride into my living space. The old man stands as I walk past and grabs my arm. “You do this?” I feign shock and scrunch my brow in confusion. “Why on earth would I do that? Like I said, I went to take a shower and the next thing I know, the two of you are beating down my door. I didn’t see this until I went to answer the door.” The lines deepen on the man’s face as he sizes me up. “What happened?” I again blink at his question, my eyebrows going up.

“What do you mean? I just─” “The bots don’t just come out unless there is a mess.” He threatens. It was that ‘don’t fuck with me’ tone that elders have an annoying way of doing perfectly. “Look,” I say, “I spilled some of my water earlier and broke a glass. I managed to get most of the glass up before it came out. Then I decided to hop in the shower. There isn’t a crime against that, is there?” I challenge him with my own stern gaze. He shrivels a little but still keeps his chest puffed slightly. “Yeah, we’ll see.” He bends down and scans the area.

I know the bot has done a good job, so I don’t hesitate to walk from both of them. “Let me know if you need anything else,” I offer dryly. The man mutters something sarcastic under his breath, but I am already at my computer, stuffing the bag into the small door to the right. I pull up my schedule, double tapping the screen. I need to get reacquainted with my life. I know this is my last semester at the university, but I had no idea what day it was, or if I had classes today. I relax, seeing that it’s Friday afternoon and have nothing going on. Then I wince. Of course, I don’t, this was the day I was planning on ending my life. I hear a few murmurs over my shoulders and slide my hand to the right to put the calendar away.

I stand and walk over to the refrigerator, then grab a glass. I am one of the few people that still keeps the old water pitchers. I prefer the flavor of the charcoal filter versus the filtration system for our units. I knew it was probably in my head, but I swear I can taste some sort of medicinal residue. It always has a bitter, metallic flavor.

“In accordance with penal code 1174-2, paragraph 4 versus─” “Don’t lecture me on something my grandfather helped write, you hunk of junk. I said beat it.” I took a few sips, chancing a glance over at the two. The A.I. stood and turned walking down my short hallway. I tense as I hear the door slam. Apparently, even the older models are programmed with human reactions. The old man sighs heavily and meets my gaze.

I can see he is working something out in his mind. He nods and motions with his other hand for me to come over. I set down my glass and try to control my breathing. What does he know? Great going, Bonham. Your first day back in the past and you manage to make enemies with a man that can turn your life to shit in minutes. I picture the hospital. When I say hospital, I’m using that term very loosely. It was more like a privately funded prison. Most of the best hospitals were stationed further north or on the lunar colonies. For the rest of us simpletons, it was normally a house visit for federally regulated drug prescriptions, or it was diagnosed with your mobile care unit.

There was a mobile clinic in each building. It was a small, 4×4 foot space that you wore provided booties and face mask in. It then took a swab of your saliva or blood sample and quickly diagnosed the issue. Within two hours, the prescription was sent directly to you and you were ordered to quarantine in your quarters for the remainder of the contagious period. Then your entire unit was decontaminated and you could go back to your life. But attempted self-harm cases were different. You had to go under a physician’s care for a minimum of one year, effectively losing your spot on the lease and freezing your accounts until a doctor cleared you to go back into society. If you wanted to go about it the legal way and file for assisted suicide, that was a whole other mess. Much like the first one, you were required by the state to enroll yourself in a year-long program with a psychiatric care physician, then placed on medication and have been on the medication for a year before you were allowed to make that decision on your own.

Which meant it was a two-year minimum to end your suffering. Total bullshit. That’s why I took it into my own hands and did a shit ton of research on how to slowly collect the chemicals I would need to die peacefully. That was mostly here, in the U.S. but there were some countries that were way worse off.

“Look, kid, I don’t got all day.” I jump at his words, but manage to walk around the corner with a straight look on my face. I don’t bother saying anything as I stand in front of him. I’m not really one for words, most the time people just sort of say what they think and I remark here and there to keep them sated.

This guy, there was something about him. Even though he seems like a dick, his voice has softened a degree. His eyes even appear softer. I’m not sure if it’s all in my head when he speaks. “Had a son about your age a few years ago.” I stay quiet, interested in what he’s trying to say. I’m curious because he’s leading up to something, I can tell. He doesn’t sound angry, he sounds sad. “I know it ain’t easy. All this.” He motions with his hand making a circle. “Things aren’t making much sense anymore with all the old people young again. See, me, I’m a traditionalist. I ain’t wanting any of that weird shit, ya know?” I nod pressing my lips into a forced half-smile. Where is he going with all this? Then I freeze as I see his portable analysis machine.

He’s found the small amounts I’ve tried to hide with the water. I try not to panic, but I can sense it’s creeping into my eyes. I can feel them growing wider. I jump as he places his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, alright. As my grandfather would always say, I ain’t no snitch.” He stops and points his finger across from me. “Mark my words, if you make me regret this decision, I’ll make it hell for you and anyone related to you. You get me?” I tear up, trying to not let it slip from my eyes but my body betrays me. I feel the wetness slide down my face and I turn away. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m the only one left.” He grunts and takes a step back. “No family, eh?” I shake my head.

He scratches the back of his head uncomfortably. “I…uh. I ain’t much good at this, but I seen that school you attend. It’s the third best school in the country and your, what, Top eight in your class?” “Five” I whisper. “What’sat?” he asks. “I’m in the top five,” I repeat softly. He cracks a smile, clearing his screen. “Seems like an awful waste to me. With scores like that, you can do just about anything you want.” He bends down and clears iBo system records. I don’t know this guy and he’s doing all of this for me. I’m awkward, unsure of how to thank him. If he would have reported me, I would have repeated the past and lost everything. Now it makes sense.

He had ordered the A.I. unit out in the hallway because it would have reported me immediately. It was legally bound to do so with the Human’s Rights Act of 2045. Basically if a human was a danger to themselves or others they would be reported to local authorities and processed within twenty-four hours.

I let out a long, shaky breath. “I don’t really have much to offer, but─” “yeah, look kid. I ain’t lookin’ for nothin’ alright? Just, do good in school and make something of yourself. Cut whatever nonsense this is out, alright? Some of us, you know, wish they got what you do.” I nod woodenly. The bot is back on the floor and heading back to the wall to dock. The guy is almost to the door when it dawns on me. “How’s your son?” I ask. He stops and casts a wary glance back at me. “He made it a little further than you did today, kiddo.” I’m so shocked, I’m speechless. The door closes behind him before I’m able to actually react to what he’s said. I’m tempted to go outside after him, but think better of it. I don’t want to raise suspicion more than I probably have with the A.I. unit. Besides, there was work to be done and I had no idea what the hell I am going to do to prevent what was bound to happen.

 

I will be posting this story on RoyalRoad.com