Pastor Nate Yarborough knew since early on that he wanted to be a clergyman. He grew up in a Christian home and believed in God as long as he could remember. He dreamed of being a minister someday and becoming the pastor of  his own church. At only thirty-one-years-old, his dream came true. He was young, yet head pastor at Hope Christian Church and had a medium sized congregation that was thriving. To add to his dream-come-true, he had a beautiful wife, Veronica, and darling three-and-a half-year-old daughter, Michaela.

Jesus was the center of his life, but Veronica was the one who kept him grounded. Michaela was just the light of his world, a special blessing in his life. She was a happy baby who was just a typical daddy’s girl. When her father came home from his job she would squeal with delight and go running to him, at first as a wobbly toddler and then to a quick, little girl who would sprint to the door.  

“Daddy’s home!” she would announce in a big voice.

Nate would swoop up Michaela up in his arms as he planted gentle kisses upon her little cheek. “Michaela, my sunshine girl!” he would shout. “There’s my little beauty!” He definitely wanted more children, but he was thankful and felt so blessed to have her be his very first.      

“That is how we should with our heavenly father”, Veronica told Nate, in admiration of those two in action, “and not run from him in fear.”

Yet one day Michaela was having seizures and became quite ill. She transformed from a bubbly child to one who fussed and cried and didn’t want to play very much.  Her worried parents took her to the doctor, and she was put through a battery of tests. The church was praying for little Michaela, but the diagnosis was grim and shocking. She had a brain tumor. Her parent’s worst fears had been confirmed. Her tumor was malignant and it was inoperable.

Veronica would open up the outpouring of cards and letters of well wishes from parishioners. So many people were praying for the family. Veronica had hope even as her husband was growing distant as his little girl became sicker and sicker. In spite of treatment, in spite of prayers, little Michaela succumbed to her sickness. Her bright, little spirit was forever gone from their home.

“We will have more children”, Veronica assured her husband through her tears. “We will get through this—together. With God’s help, we’ll get through this!”  

Nate didn’t respond. Veronica felt him stiffen in his lackluster embrace. She stiffened, too, for she knew that wasn't of Nate's character, and she could tell by his face that he wasn’t buying any of it.  

His sermons now became shorter, far less engaging. They weren’t full of encouraging stories or inspirational words of faith, of challenging the defeated to never give up, and imploring everyone to always turn to the Lord—in bad times as well as the good.  

People in the church rallied behind Pastor Nate and his wife. They offered meals during the time that Michaela was laid out in the funeral home and finally laid to rest. They offered more prayers, encouraging words, and hugs for the couple to make it through this rough storm in their lives. A pastor friend of Nate conducted the funeral but Nate hardly heard a word. Veronica grew worried.

There were many in the congregation who grew concerned, too. They still were supportive, but now the elders and deacons had no choice but to gather at a meeting and figure out what to do. Nate’s leadership role was falling apart. His life, no doubt,  was falling apart.

“Why does God punish some on this earth who are innocent?” he asked one time at the pulpit.  “There are no answers when your heart is torn out from you, when you serve God with all you have, and He does this to you. Why? Perhaps, there is no such being as God. Perhaps, it is wishful thinking and we have all been duped…I’ve thought about it and I’ve searched the Scriptures, yet I get nothing there . I think the atheists aren’t so out of bounds, after all.”

Sitting a few rows back, Veronica looked nervously around. She heard some of the gasps in the crowd, heard many whispers, and saw the shocked faces. She laid her head in her hands and was too scared out of her mind to even pray.

“We are sorry, Veronica”, one of the elders told her one day. “We tried to reason with your husband. We care about you both, but this cannot go on. We asked Pastor Nate to get seek out some help—to step down temporarily—but he didn’t even flinch. He says he’s never coming back. He just doesn’t believe anymore. And he just doesn’t care. ”

Veronica tried to get Nate to go to counseling with her. She needed it, too, and he wasn’t helping her any. This church was his dream, and sure his daughter had tragically died, but he needed to hold it together—for their sake. To crumble on her was too much on top of losing her daughter. He just couldn’t do this!

She could handle her grief far better if they could remain a team. But he didn’t want to talk, wouldn’t listen to anyone, and now how were they going to make ends meet without his role as pastor? Nate fell into a severe depression, and Veronica felt helpless to do anything about it.

After a few months of trying to get through to him, her faith grew dim. How could this happen to them? To save herself from going down with him, she decided she had to walk away. She didn’t want to, but she had made up her mind to move back in with her parents.

“It’s for the best, for now”, she told him. “It doesn’t have to be permanent.”

Nate sat there, staring at the blank TV. “Do what you want”, he replied.

One of the parishioners, Craig DeArmond, decided to pay him a visit. His mother, Marge, always admired Nate’s sermons. She was a big supporter of his, and wept when she heard of the news of his daughter's death. It was evident to her that his faith took a huge dip—actually a crash landing—and his world that revolved around his belief lay in shambles.

Craig was saddened by how quiet the place was, how unkempt and uninviting it appeared. He’s been to the house before, a once pleasant place to be.  Now, it was bleak and joyless. “Will you talk to my mother?” Craig asked him. “She’s sad since my dad passed away a week after last Christmas, you know. Forty-eight years of marriage has been much of her life . My mom could use some counseling.”

Nate looked at him without much emotion. “Let her talk to the current pastor. She doesn’t need me.”

Craig said, “But she looks up to you, and it might do you some good, too.”

Nate scoffed at that. “Look, I’m not in the faith business anymore. There’s no way I can be of comfort.” He dismissed Craig with his hand and said, “She goes to me or she goes to a fortune teller—tell her she’ll get about the same results, either way.”

Craig stood up over Nate, hoping Nate would look up at him. He wouldn’t, so Craig was about to walk away but turned around and replied, “God forgive me, for I want to make this clear. Listen to me, Nathan Yale! You are one selfish *******!”

Nate suddenly shot a look at him. “A what?” he demanded.

“You heard me”, Craig said, his arms crossed. “I know you are a man of God—or at least you used to be.  He grew more bold, was on a roll and said, “Look, you are pushing everyone away! People who love and care about you have lost you! Your wife, for crying out loud, is a wreck! I know you’re in pain, but—”

“What do you know of my pain?” Nate shot back. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. Perhaps, he had been crying or even drinking.

“I don’t know!” Craig shouted. “But what do you know of faith?”

Nathan didn’t know what to say, for he was never prepared for this. Craig continued, “My mother lost both of her parents by the age of thirteen. She grew up in an alcoholic home, so she watched her parents slowly drink away their lives. She had no choice but to live with her aunt while her other siblings were spread out to stay with other relatives.”

Craig had Nathan’s full attention now. He took advantage of this and pulled up a chair and sat right in front of him, saying, “Her aunt’s husband—her so-called uncle—wouldn’t stop pawing at her and trying to put his hand up her blouse. She had no lock on her bedroom door and so this guy would sneak in--and guess what? He ***** her! At first, it was shocking! The second time, it was Hell. The third time it was worse! The forth time….should I go on?”

“Oh, God, why?” Nate said, tears in his eyes at the thought.

“Yes, he ***** her”, Craig repeated, “until one day she was pregnant and her aunt was demanding how she ended up this way , calling her a **** and shaming her. Mom finally blurted out that it was her uncle who got forced himself on her, and the aunt didn’t believe her.”

Nate was fully engaged. “What happened to your poor mother?” he asked, trying to keep his mouth from quivering.

“She was kicked out on the streets... nothing but the clothes on her back. With nowhere to go, she went to a friend’s house. The stress was so bad on her that she miscarried the baby, laying on the floor in agony. So the authorities placed her in a home for girls and never did she have to live in that house again…but the scars are still there--ugly, deep scars!”

So Craig left Nate’s house, but Nate had joined him in the car. Craig told his mother what he had revealed to Nate—without her permission—but he felt he had to do it. She agreed it was the right thing to do.

Nate gave Marge a huge hug during his visit. She was such a motherly figure, and he admired her for what she went through. “How on earth did you survive?” he asked her.

“Like you”, she confessed. “I was so angry with God. I hated Him, just hated Him. But when I was living in the home for girls, I met a girl who had huge faith. It was sickening to me, at first. I thought to myself, ‘How can you have such faith when you’ve ended up in here?’ And she didn’t know what happened to me, for I was too scared to tell anyone back then.”

“But you have great faith now”, Nate stated. “Better than even I ever had, I’m ashamed to say. I’ve seen your faith in action! ”

Marge put her hand to his cheek. “I fought for every bit of it”, she said. “I didn’t want to believe in God, but their was a nagging presence that wouldn't go away!”

Nate smiled. “I love the way you put it, Marge”, he said.

“Well, I had that friend who talked about Jesus, and then I went to rent out a room of a woman who took in boarders. She had a strong faith, and she took me to church. I’ve never been to church in my life, and I just wanted to get her off my back for asking! But my heart slowly softened, for I never thought that I’d ever believe in God…and didn’t want to…ever!”

“Neither did I…after loosing Michaela”, Nate said. “I loved her so much." He began to cry and put his face in his hands.

Marge put her arm around him and said, “But I found out that I really needed God. I needed to forgive a lot of people—my mother and father, my aunt and uncle—especially myself because I felt so hateful all the time.”

Nate sobbed, “I feel hateful, too—and guilty. I don’t know if I’ll ever have faith again. It scares me to feel that way.”

Marge held him in her arms like he was her little child. “Oh, but you haven’t really lost it, Pastor. You see, I didn’t want to believe in God, either, because I felt He was against me. If God existed…well, than how come my parents were alcoholics? How come my uncle ***** me? How come I got pregnant and the baby died? Ended up by myself? How come…how come? I think we all can ask our share of questions in this world.”

“They are valid questions”, he admitted, tears still streaming down his face. “Frankly, many problems pale in comparison.”

Marge couldn't have disagreed more. "No, Nate..,pain is pain. Yours is just as valid as anyone else's.  It just is just when it is an excuse to be bitter that is dangerous.  And I used that as a reason for being bitter!” she said. “But the bitterness was killing me. Slowly, I was dying.”

"But you made it through. You're quite alive, Marge, quite alive... and quite amazing."

They lingered in conversation, for they both needed this to take place. After it was over, Nate went home, feeling like a dam of walled up emotions had been finally released. It was certainly a start. He called Veronica up and he managed to say, “Veronica…please forgive me. Let’s start again…our lives together…” before his voice broke and the tears poured out again.

“Of course”, she responded, her voice trembling. “I already have forgiven you because I’ve been waiting and praying for this moment to come.”

I'm leaving Carly's place after an all day ****** that had me convinced that paradise lay in the legs of Nate's sister wearing a unicorn onesie, and as they put on Sgt. Peppers and lay there the ****** freudian passion play overcame my capacity for archetype observation and I proceeded to walk around the room thanking everybody in that space and time for the gift of starting the **** with Nate's sister, the beat changed and they turned on me and said I needed to give her space, they all became timeless aliens traveling through time to **** and I was one of them coming online in a loop, and as long as I stayed awake I would remember and not be *****. I sat cross legged holding my friend sams hands, looking into his eyes, saying aloud we're creating the universe constructing all as the three smartest people of all time, forever throughout we died but never died, as long as we could stay awake, they all wore red and I couldn't trust any of them, I fired off mad questions and demanded to know the secrets of the universe and why woman wasn't the answer, I called up to nate to bring her down to me, and generally became a raving lunatic
      after some time of sam being soulmate and accepting him forever as my lover self same image, and also calling him ugly as im ugly, then channeling Brittany through him and countless other regressive exercises, we started inhaling nitrous gas, and the world became one stretched out moment
       and I kept calling out before, all the way up, as it were the secret spell with a handshake to fool the devil
         I thought Nate a mad spirit habituating this plane as a long gone failed hero plagued by the madness of wanting to **** his sister and forced to watch all his friends be aware of their own lust, so that pushed him into clowning, which he is an expert, that primal lust took me up and id taken a holy mandate to **** this beautiful creature and ascend to paradise,
when they slipped her upstairs they left her rainbow onesie, i felt heaven become another step remote and my faith tested, I resolved to be the last awake and never die, I walked up to the attic, and saw the light beaming from the window


            Sam dropped me off at the press grill so I could eat some grub,
then I met up with Tyler for a drink somewhere while he told me his story of meeting a guy in a skyline chilis bathroom drunk at 3 am, he said the guy was standing at the ****** but wasn't *******. Ty asked him if he was done and the guy put Ty in a chokehold with his pants down, according to Ty the cops came in and he was putting clean shots into the guys mug, he is contemplating leaving town before they can indict him for felonious assault, I told him Canadas nice but Venezuela doesn't have an extradition treaty, come to think of it neither does Cuba, but Ty is too proud for that probably
   anyways we meet Carly being a dancing beauty in a high falootin joint with string lights called Julep, the only reason to mention it is because as we were leaving a guy was bent over the rail vomiting and looking wretched he noticed us watching him as we smoked our cigarettes off to the side and immediately decided that he wasn't some kind of side show freak to be gawked at, he became threatening in the most base and pathetic way a human can, and his bride came to tell us to ******* with her father, father of the bride shaking my hand, we eventually left that scene and walked to Oddfellows where I saw Sam Cohan and he bought me a beer, good chap, we talked until I stepped toward Carly, Tyler and a fine looking strange *****
I touched Carly and received an awkward unmemorable introduction to the strange *****. She walked away but lurked and locked eyes with me as the evening rolled on
later Carly told me that the girl demanded to meet the guy who looks like Heath Ledger, a sure fire ****, so Carly is grinding on my **** and my backs to the bar and Tyler already got me a beer, and there I was, a pirate king
I took Carly out after the lights came on, and was going to give Tyler the run of my place, he disappeared into the night and I showed Carly my favorite smelling tree, a pink mimosa still in bloom late July, we almost ****** on my car, until I went back to her place and we ****** until $430, rising at noon, I left telling her we had an hour to get ready to journey to Findlay for Jim's wedding
I showered and brushed my teeth and collected my suit and put it on without a tie
I picked up Carly and set out upon the road, but made a quick stop for a bite
two deaf guys ordered in front of me and the kid working the register said my glasses were cool, along the way I was telling Carly the story of how I wore make up for the first time to a middle school dance, and she said she had to *****, I didn't believe her at first until she tried to stick her head out the window half way rolled down, I managed to get it down all the way and wet streaks of human gut waste caught the wind and splattered my window
we pulled over and I went to get her some napkins to clean herself off as I squeeged the car, she tried to wipe the window with the napkins, sweet girl. The wedding started at 3:30 and we didn't have more than five minutes to spare, she found her vape pen 20 minute out as Heather started to send me worried messages, as I was set to read a passage, little did I know that I was leading off the whole affair, I arrived and was quickly rushed to meet the mothers and have a boutonnière pinned to my lapel , the women all looked stunning and I congratulated each in turn as they shoved a program in my hand, Tiffany took me through the drill, we walked up to the stage and took our places on the bench, looking out at the beautiful shining faces,


I was the only one not wearing a tie, but thats not important, I saw Jim and embraced him with all the love I could muster, he looked at me and said that he knew I would make it, that he knew that he just had to trust the flow, and I would appear in the nick of time, the pastor threw his hands in the air and welcomed the families, the mothers lit candles, and then Tiffany looked at me and said that it was my turn, I stepped up to the Beema and gazed out over the crowd, trying to summon something clever, nothing good came to mind and so I opened my mouth and said, "a reading from Genesis" and then put every fiber of my being into reminding the room that it is Gods will that we be fruitful and multiply. I'm told I slammed my hands down for emphasis and let out a hearty amen, a man's man's amen, and turned and took one giant step off the podium with two baby stairs, I gracefully flowed into the bench having averted a complete embarrassment, and then tactfully left the stage with Tiffany after her read.   Jim looked at me after mine with a nod, and I said the word strong, that read cemented my status as a star of the party, and the mojo flowed, I was called the cash guy by the hotel, for checking in as Atlantis Grosshammer, $200 depost, we drank and danced and an old lady came to me to say that I have a beautiful soul
I thanked Jim's father for helping to create my friend, and danced around bottles
the cake was good
I told Carly I always catch the brides garter, at every wedding I've ever been. I saw Jim's men assemble for his toss, I let the men come and put myself in the mix, Jim turned his back and had a misfire,
the temptation to collect it passed all of us by thankfully, and he was set to fire again, it came to me and I snatched it out of the air, cold as ice I walked off the floor only with eyes for Carly not even saying a word to Jim, I put that thing on my head and went back to Jim threw him on my shoulders and swung him around like we were in a broadway musical
two kids playing in the street,
he said its the best moment, and so it goes

Chapter 9

“Startled, I pulled away from the man’s grasp and looked at his face. Although he wore a tag that read “Hotel Security” I sensed that there was much more to him than that.
“What’s this about?” I asked sharply, noticing that he was avoiding eye contact.
Clenching his jaw, the man grabbed my arm again, this time more firmly. “Don’t worry, Red, you’ll find out soon enough.”
I hated it when guys called me Red. It was always in a smug way. “Hey, let me go!” I demanded, trying to get away from the *******. But he was strong. Immortally strong.
He ****** me against him and whispered, “Calm the hell down and you won’t get hurt.”
“Are you one of Vlad’s men?”
“You’ll have your questions answered in a few minutes. Just chill out, will you?”
“Not really having any other choice, I allowed the man to usher me away from the restaurant, toward the back of The Veil. Hotel guests watched us curiously.
“Are you okay, dear?” asked an older woman in her seventies. She had a cane and looked about ready to hit my captor with it.
“She’s fine. We don’t allow prostitutes in the hotel,” he said loudly.
Normally I wouldn’t care, but my cheeks burned with shame as the old woman stared at me with disgust.
“Harlot,” she said, glaring at me.
“I’m not a *******,” I said, gritting my teeth. Furious at the way I was being treated, I tried pulling away from him again, but he only dug his fingers into my skin deeper.
“Would you just relax?” he said, as we turned down another hallway. “I’m doing this for your own good.”
“Doesn’t feel that way on my end,” I replied angrily.
“If you’d stop fighting me, I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”
“Then tell me what the hell this is about!”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
I sighed loudly.
We stopped at a door that was marked ‘Security’ and he led me inside. To my surprise, there was a long conference desk with two men sitting next to it.
“Is this her, Nate?” asked one of them, a blonde Nordic-looking guy in an expensive suit.
“She’s just as he described. Plus, she has the mark,” said the guy, releasing my arm.
I rubbed the skin where his fingers had pressed cruelly. “You mean the mark on my wrist from your fingers, *******?”
“Sorry,” said Nate, addressing the two men at the table more than me. “She kept trying to get away.”
“Leave us,” ordered the blonde, frowning at Nate.
“Yes, sir.” Nate turned and walked out the door.
I sighed wearily, wishing I would have never gotten out of bed. “So, who in the hell are you people?”
“I’m sorry, lass. My name is Aiden Rylan and this is Maximus Johnson,” said the blonde, his Irish accent noticeable now.
I folded my arms under my chest, studying both men. Both of them were undeniably rugged, handsome, and obvious big-shots. “And why should that matter to me?”
Aiden’s lip[…]”
“Natel’s part in it. The ******* had made me look like a cheap *****. “Who is this mutual acquaintance?”
“Doris Hart,” said Maximus.
Another surprise. “Really? And how do you know Dorian?” I asked, now sitting down.
“The three of us are long-time friends,” said Aiden.
“But you’re lycan,” I replied. From what I’d gathered over the years, most weren’t too chummy with vampires.
“Yes. We’ve learned to push our differences aside,” said Andrew, his eyes twinkling.
“The truth is that we don’t judge anyone unless they pose a threat,” said Maximus. “And we’ve known Doris Hart for several years. He’s done us favors and now we’re returning one for him.”
“And that is to protect me?” I said, flattered that Doris was still worried about me. He must have really loved my mother.
“Yes. He was very adamant on that. Sorry for your loss, by the way,” said Andrew, his face turning somber.
At the mention of my mother’s death, I looked down at my nails, trying not to tear up. “Thanks.”
“I never met Lilith, but Andrew knew her,” said Maximus, his voice kind.
Surprised, I looked at Andrew. “You did? Really?”
“Actually, I only met[…]”
“He leaned back in his chair, a faraway look now in his eyes. “I guess it was mostly about Vlad and her dealings with him.”
“Why would she confide in you about him?” I asked angrily. The fact that she’d spoken openly about Vlad with him, a stranger, and not me, hurt.
“Because she knew that we were enemies,” said Aiden. “I had no idea that you were his daughter, however. Not until Doris mentioned it on the phone. Your mother obviously didn’t trust anyone with that information”
I relaxed. “What else did Doris tell you?”
“He’s worried about you,” said Andrew . “He says that your life is in danger and you’re not taking it seriously.”
“Believe me, I’m taking it seriously,” I said, smiling grimly.
“Do you know exactly what you’re up against?” asked Maximus.
“I know that Vlad wants me dead.”
“You should also know that he usually gets what he wants,” said Aiden, frowning.
“And that’s why Doris asked if we’d offer you protection,” added Maximus. “You need our help.”
“Thanks for the offer but I don’t need protection from you or Doris ,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I can take care of myself[…]”
“and is bent on capturing you. Believe me, he has the money and the resources to do just that.”
“Don’t be fooled by my appearance. I might look easy on so many levels, especially in this outfit,” I mused, “but I’m not. If I don’t want to be caught, I won’t.”
“Your confidence is commendable, but it’s going to get you killed,” warned Maximus. “Believe me, I know. I’ve caught many criminals with that same attitude. They get too cocky for their own good and make mistakes.”
So he was a cop. “I’m not being cocky.” I stood up. “I’m just saying that this is my problem and I’ll handle it on my own.”
“Even if you don’t have to?” asked Maximus, as I walked toward the door.
Sighing, I turned around. “Look, I certainly appreciate the offer, I really do. But, I’ll be fine.”
“At least do us a favor and disappear,” said Aiden. “Get out of town before they find you.”
“I’m planning on it,” I admitted. “By the way, how did you two know where to find me?”
“Your partner, Alex Shafer,” said Maximus. “I take it he didn’t call you to tell you we’d be[…]”
“started on stock options. Please.”
Aiden chuckled. “I’ve helped you, haven’t I?”
“Yes, and for that I’m very grateful,” replied Maximus.
“So, when did you talk to Alex?” I asked, changing the subject. I had no interest in talking about stocks, bonds, or anything financial.
“About thirty minutes ago. He said you’d be doing a job here,” replied Maximus.
I dialed Alex’s number, but he didn’t answer. Sighing, I sent him a text, telling him to call me. Then I slipped my phone back into my purse. “Well, I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting the both you. I’m sure under different circumstances,” I smiled wickedly, “the pleasure would have be all mine.”
Andrew ‘s eyes roved over my body and he grinned. “Oh, lass, I doubt that. I’m pretty sure that the pleasure would have been mutual.”
Laughing, Maximus stood up and held out his card. “In all seriousness, please give me a call if you need help.”
I took it. “Thank you. Detective Maximus Johnson, huh?”
“Call me Max.”
“Okay, Max. Thanks again.” My cell phone began to vibrate. I pulled it back out of my purse and noticed that Alex had sent me a[…]”











Chapter 9

“Startled, I pulled away from the man’s grasp and looked at his face. Although he wore a tag that read “Hotel Security” I sensed that there was much more to him than that.
“What’s this about?” I asked sharply, noticing that he was avoiding eye contact.
Clenching his jaw, the man grabbed my arm again, this time more firmly. “Don’t worry, Red, you’ll find out soon enough.”
I hated it when guys called me Red. It was always in a smug way. “Hey, let me go!” I demanded, trying to get away from the *******. But he was strong. Immortally strong.
He ****** me against him and whispered, “Calm the hell down and you won’t get hurt.”
“Are you one of Vlad’s men?”
“You’ll have your questions answered in a few minutes. Just chill out, will you?”
“Not really having any other choice, I allowed the man to usher me away from the restaurant, toward the back of The Veil. Hotel guests watched us curiously.
“Are you okay, dear?” asked an older woman in her seventies. She had a cane and looked about ready to hit my captor with it.
“She’s fine. We don’t allow prostitutes in the hotel,” he said loudly.
Normally I wouldn’t care, but my cheeks burned with shame as the old woman stared at me with disgust.
“Harlot,” she said, glaring at me.
“I’m not a *******,” I said, gritting my teeth. Furious at the way I was being treated, I tried pulling away from him again, but he only dug his fingers into my skin deeper.
“Would you just relax?” he said, as we turned down another hallway. “I’m doing this for your own good.”
“Doesn’t feel that way on my end,” I replied angrily.
“If you’d stop fighting me, I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”
“Then tell me what the hell this is about!”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
I sighed loudly.
We stopped at a door that was marked ‘Security’ and he led me inside. To my surprise, there was a long conference desk with two men sitting next to it.
“Is this her, Nate?” asked one of them, a blonde Nordic-looking guy in an expensive suit.
“She’s just as he described. Plus, she has the mark,” said the guy, releasing my arm.
I rubbed the skin where his fingers had pressed cruelly. “You mean the mark on my wrist from your fingers, *******?”
“Sorry,” said Nate, addressing the two men at the table more than me. “She kept trying to get away.”
“Leave us,” ordered the blonde, frowning at Nate.
“Yes, sir.” Nate turned and walked out the door.
I sighed wearily, wishing I would have never gotten out of bed. “So, who in the hell are you people?”
“I’m sorry, lass. My name is Aiden Rylan and this is Maximus Johnson,” said the blonde, his Irish accent noticeable now.
I folded my arms under my chest, studying both men. Both of them were undeniably rugged, handsome, and obvious big-shots. “And why should that matter to me?”
Aiden’s lip[…]”
“Natel’s part in it. The ******* had made me look like a cheap *****. “Who is this mutual acquaintance?”
“Doris Hart,” said Maximus.
Another surprise. “Really? And how do you know Dorian?” I asked, now sitting down.
“The three of us are long-time friends,” said Aiden.
“But you’re lycan,” I replied. From what I’d gathered over the years, most weren’t too chummy with vampires.
“Yes. We’ve learned to push our differences aside,” said Andrew, his eyes twinkling.
“The truth is that we don’t judge anyone unless they pose a threat,” said Maximus. “And we’ve known Doris Hart for several years. He’s done us favors and now we’re returning one for him.”
“And that is to protect me?” I said, flattered that Doris was still worried about me. He must have really loved my mother.
“Yes. He was very adamant on that. Sorry for your loss, by the way,” said Andrew, his face turning somber.
At the mention of my mother’s death, I looked down at my nails, trying not to tear up. “Thanks.”
“I never met Lilith, but Andrew knew her,” said Maximus, his voice kind.
Surprised, I looked at Andrew. “You did? Really?”
“Actually, I only met[…]”
“He leaned back in his chair, a faraway look now in his eyes. “I guess it was mostly about Vlad and her dealings with him.”
“Why would she confide in you about him?” I asked angrily. The fact that she’d spoken openly about Vlad with him, a stranger, and not me, hurt.
“Because she knew that we were enemies,” said Aiden. “I had no idea that you were his daughter, however. Not until Doris mentioned it on the phone. Your mother obviously didn’t trust anyone with that information”
I relaxed. “What else did Doris tell you?”
“He’s worried about you,” said Andrew . “He says that your life is in danger and you’re not taking it seriously.”
“Believe me, I’m taking it seriously,” I said, smiling grimly.
“Do you know exactly what you’re up against?” asked Maximus.
“I know that Vlad wants me dead.”
“You should also know that he usually gets what he wants,” said Aiden, frowning.
“And that’s why Doris asked if we’d offer you protection,” added Maximus. “You need our help.”
“Thanks for the offer but I don’t need protection from you or Doris ,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I can take care of myself[…]”
“and is bent on capturing you. Believe me, he has the money and the resources to do just that.”
“Don’t be fooled by my appearance. I might look easy on so many levels, especially in this outfit,” I mused, “but I’m not. If I don’t want to be caught, I won’t.”
“Your confidence is commendable, but it’s going to get you killed,” warned Maximus. “Believe me, I know. I’ve caught many criminals with that same attitude. They get too cocky for their own good and make mistakes.”
So he was a cop. “I’m not being cocky.” I stood up. “I’m just saying that this is my problem and I’ll handle it on my own.”
“Even if you don’t have to?” asked Maximus, as I walked toward the door.
Sighing, I turned around. “Look, I certainly appreciate the offer, I really do. But, I’ll be fine.”
“At least do us a favor and disappear,” said Aiden. “Get out of town before they find you.”
“I’m planning on it,” I admitted. “By the way, how did you two know where to find me?”
“Your partner, Alex Shafer,” said Maximus. “I take it he didn’t call you to tell you we’d be[…]”
“started on stock options. Please.”
Aiden chuckled. “I’ve helped you, haven’t I?”
“Yes, and for that I’m very grateful,” replied Maximus.
“So, when did you talk to Alex?” I asked, changing the subject. I had no interest in talking about stocks, bonds, or anything financial.
“About thirty minutes ago. He said you’d be doing a job here,” replied Maximus.
I dialed Alex’s number, but he didn’t answer. Sighing, I sent him a text, telling him to call me. Then I slipped my phone back into my purse. “Well, I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting the both you. I’m sure under different circumstances,” I smiled wickedly, “the pleasure would have be all mine.”
Andrew ‘s eyes roved over my body and he grinned. “Oh, lass, I doubt that. I’m pretty sure that the pleasure would have been mutual.”
Laughing, Maximus stood up and held out his card. “In all seriousness, please give me a call if you need help.”
I took it. “Thank you. Detective Maximus Johnson, huh?”
“Call me Max.”
“Okay, Max. Thanks again.” My cell phone began to vibrate. I pulled it back out of my purse and noticed that Alex had sent me a[…]”























Sent from my iPhone

Through another storm
I worried,
but your mother is fine, and
you're still not coming back.
It's a drive I can't make, by morning.

Dogs bark, you disappear.
I annoy you with the
same two low notes.
One stinks, the other screams.
And I can't play piano.

Are you there Nate?
It's the wagon driver.
You left the back open,
or I forgot to close it.
Either way you're on your own.

Were you God, Nate?
Or just some gorgeous ****-head?
If they don't have a bed yet,
tell them you'll take the couch.
Tell them I'll take the floor.

My blood pays by the heartbeat,
with my veins in rebellion.
Bleached is my skin and I'm
sold in pieces,
to the dust, to the dark, to the smoke.

Nate, I cry about it, every single
ride to work. I beg the cars in
front of me for your life. I beg you,
for mine.

I wonder how I got here, secluded in a grimy apartment filled with smoke. We drink gin and tonics with mint like it’s the ‘20s; we sit and talk pop culture because we know. Taj has somehow become the effective authority on all of these things, paid to social network and connected to Hollywood; he’s very skilled at playing to people’s wants. My Cadillac sits intent next to me markering in a recent drawing for his newest class. He’s already famous for his graffiti, one day I’ll bet you this extra credit project will be worth money. He drew me a fox for Christmas. Valentines day is coming up. He never tells me he loves me. Jack is watching me watch him out of the corner of his eye while putting on a new remix of an old song. He leans over and asks if I like it and I nod. I feel bubbled up with *** smoke, frozen in time and vaguely uncomfortable. I’d guess this is what it’s like to be “too high.” I want Caddy to notice, but it’s Jack that’s pushing my hair back and telling me to drink more water. It’s sweet. Despite his need to be seen as a womanizer, Jack respects Caddy too much to even try with me, he looks but he doesn’t put on any faces for me. Everyone thinks so hard about how they’re seen.
Jack says his New Year’s resolution is to do less *******, even though no one asked. Everyone hears but no one reacts. I try to keep moving my toes and stop shivering. Across from me Ky and Nate are reading the encyclopedia in open-mouthed awe. In a room full of intellectual up and comers I feel like Hemmingway did when he was my age, how all the minds gravitate to each other and sit in a ***** room by the beach and let the creativity go. Like Mary Shelly and the whole gang writing Frankenstein and Dracula in the same trip.  After a while I think Taj is going to make it, Jack will be a politician and Caddy will be lost and with another woman. Ky and Nate will still be smoking and reading the encyclopedia, all the way down to ‘z’. I am like my mother: attracting the company of smart successful men who pay her selective attention.
The door burst open and the cold air stayed in my pores after it was closed. Rodger invited himself over. It would have been all right but when Rodger is wasted he forgets his manners. In his animated state he managed to kick over Caddy’s favorite smoking piece, insult Jack and look at me a little too hard. His girlfriend had immediately passed out on the couch, but she never smiled or spoke to me anyway. Her head was cradled in the lap of a girl I hadn’t noticed. Her hair was perfect and her eyes shadowed, the liner and mascara smudging its way slowly onto her high cheekbones. She stared at me but didn’t speak. I tried to smile, but didn’t want to give away the champagne sensation covering my skin, still too up to speak. She had already formed her opinion of me, some young ******* the arm of an older boy. She was once in my position, I’m sure of it, we are the same kind of beautiful and empty eyed. That doesn’t stop her from judging, in the total of 15 seconds she looked at me. Her self is tamed and mine is wild still. Unintroduced and unnoticed by the men in the room, we have an understanding and a mutual dislike of each other, only to defend ourselves.
The room takes time to settle, a bowl has been packed for an entitled Rodger, and now that everyone is calm, Cad sits back down and puts his arm around me again. I lean into him, protected and anchored, whereas I had been floating or about to puke a minute ago. I don’t know what I said but Caddy seemed annoyed when he said “Just let it happen, embrace the feeling,” and so I kept quiet for ten minutes or so. The high was infected with guilt. Next time he looked at me-- it could have been an hour—I whispered, “I can’t” and finally he heard me, and stood up.
Cad came back into my vision with a glass of water and turned on Drive, prompting Rodger, Mrs. Rodger and my pretty enemy to leave. Ky and Nate had gone long before I could focus on noticing. Taj left for trivia night down at the bar and no doubt some girl; wrapped up in a cashmere scarf and cardigan he kissed my cheek before he went. Jack also took his graceful leave with the Rodger group to woo some girl who knew exactly what she was doing to herself. He did have a straight nosed charm, Jack. I could not blame this girl, one of many (I am embarrassed for her; I have been like this ******* many occasions).  
Taj had been sent the advanced copy of Drive in blu-ray, so we snuck it from his room and watched it that way (the only way Taj would see movies now, it is the future (for now)). Kavinsky came through Cad’s new speakers the boys had spent half an hour trying to wire earlier in the night. “They’re taking about you boy/but you’re still the same” crooned Lovefoxxx as Ryan Gosling cruised down a street, ****** intense in driving gloves. Gears shifting and motors growling are very ****, I tell Cadillac so into his ear, as he pulls me into his arms and covers me up with a blanket.
The movie was perfect, maybe because it made me feel less dizzy and sickguilty (Cad knew it would) and maybe because Ryan Gosling can wear a white satin jacket. I loved it, hardly noticing when the absent roommate Travis strolled in with Taj and tacos somewhere around 2am.  Colder as Caddy got up for a burrito, left me alone on the couch for the kitchen table. Registering Taj taking his place, playing with my curls and talking Hollywood to me. I’m staring over at Cad in his chair, he makes eye contact once or twice and I blow him a kiss before Taj repositions my head toward the television and my ear back where he can speak into it.
Eventually Cadillac taps Taj on the shoulder and motions for him to get up. With Cad back I can relax and I fall into sleep just as the movie ends. Taj and Trav have gone to their own beds and Cad leans over me, picks me up and takes me to bed knocking my elbow on the doorframe along the way. He apologizes and kisses my head but I am too tired to care. He lays me down on the bed with crimson sheets and takes off my boots but then sternly says, “Mimi, you are not a child.” and so I must get up and undress myself. He wraps me in a duvet missing its cover and his arms. I trust him long enough to fall asleep.

-

Standing in front of the stove it was hot, but I am easily overheated. He came up behind me and said in my ear, “you’re lovely” watching me put the last piece of French toast on the large stack, getting ready to scramble eggs. He kissed my cheek. Then my neck and then my lips, taking me away from my cooking to be pulled against him, for a sweet short minute and went back to the living room with his friends. Jack had mysteriously reappeared in the night; he said he locked himself out of his apartment after leaving to see one of his girls. Taj just sat and blasted Radiohead over the new speakers, shouting something relevant at me. I scramble the eggs and make up plates, two pieces of toast each and a nice healthy pile of eggs. It is gone very quickly and no one says thank you, except for a smile from Caddy and a kiss on the forehead. It’s usually enough for me, knowing he likes to show me off to his friends. I sit down with my cup of coffee and plate, within a few minutes Cad suggests he takes me home. I resentfully take time to finish my coffee. But we are both busy and he is right, so I say goodbye to the boys and gather my things. We drive with the “best MC on the game these days” (so I am told) over the weak speakers of the car. Cad drives with his arm around me always. Cruising into my building’s parking lot I lean over for a kiss on my forehead, nose, lips. He says go, but his hand still sits on my shoulder so I stay for a little longer. “You’ll probably have to let go of me if it’s time for me to go Cad,” I say quietly, with a tentative smile on my face. He grins back and lifts his arm. I slide out of the suicide seat and smile at him, but he’s looking at the radio dials. Then my face. His eyes give him away, softened around the edges with affection. Maybe love, but he’d never say it and I refuse to say it until he does. I try not to think about it much as he drives away to smoke up again with his friends. I wonder if this is how it will always be, but then I realize our kind of “always” is only the next few months. I turned unsteadily and walked up the stairs to my empty room—dark and overheated smelling heavily of sugar and spice candles-- with the geese outside my window for company. I haven’t slept here for days.

There he was,
Nathaniel,
working his spot
at the coffee shop.

I knew without asking
that he never liked being
called Nate.

Hell,
that’s why it said
Nathaniel
on his name-tag,
right?

I was feeling a bit spurred,
maybe a little raw,
for reasons which escaped
or  
I’d let run away,
who knows?

I should’ve been downright
jolly.
The holiday season hadn’t been
too terrible so far,
I had a burrito, the sauce,
a Cherry-Pepsi.

My notebook was open,
the pen was clicked,
ready to go.

The first bite is always the best.
Those flat-top grilled
piggy-guts are the bacon
that never gets eaten,
unless your in the know;
and I am.

Yet, it wasn’t mood-improving
even while it swam in the green chili
tomatillo wonders
created by:
The Sauce.

So,
after I’d chewed
&
swallowed...

“Hey Nate!
How’s it going?”

“I’m good.
I saw you come in.
I was wondering if you were
planning on ordering something
from here.”

Ah!
There it is;
a little bitterness
just for me.

“Yes, Nathaniel,
I plan on getting a coffee
after I finish my dinner.
Is that okay?”

He never said anything else.
He simply went back behind the counter.

I ate my food,
drank my soda,
felt a bit guilty.

Ol’ Nate hadn’t done
anything to me.
He’s only trying to make
his own way,
same as everyone else.

I threw my dinner-trash away,
approached the counter,
ordered an Americano,
(light and sweet)
paid,
sat back down
to write.

The drive-thru line
was going all-out.

Tonight,
Nate would have all the nickels he’d need.

In the end, our sourness
toward one another
was pointless,
meaningless,
outside of my own
stupid meanness.

Seasonal Affective Disorder
it’s called.

We,
Nathaniel and I
parted ways as patron
and
barista.

We don’t have to be friends.
No Christmas cards.
No presents under the tree.
Only coffee, cash,
a silent,
more patient,
poet,
working, writing,
sipping coffee.
Reasonable.
Silent.

*
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2020

My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond. As fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She needed to leave soon having obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to meet me. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.

there’s this invisible gremlin with his hands around my neck and yes, i say HIS because yes, he’s a man, what else would a gremlin be.

he’s got his hands around my neck and he has another set of hands around my arms.  and my eyes are locked with his and i'm entranced.

i wish i could say he was as beautiful as vishnu with his four arms and enchanting mystique.  but i wouldn’t be caught dead praying to this guy.  

he pulls my hair and he grabs at my ankles and don’t get me wrong, there’s a time and a place for that.  but this is always at the most inopportune moment. because while i’m running away, he calls out to me,

“hey!  remember how terrible you are?  remember how you’re actually incapable of doing anything?  remember how literally no one likes you?”  

and i freeze in my tracks and i look around hysterically, begging that no one heard him.  and i open my mouth to say something but he’s throwing pencils at my head like nate in my civics class and what did i ever do to you, nate?  

my brother likes to remind me that he cried on the homecoming court and i wish i could say that i felt vindicated but ever since i felt the eraser hit my temple, i realized i should probably keep my mouth shut because these linoleum halls are run by basketball shorts and beauty queens, not band geeks

nate threw pencils at my head.  he didn’t put his hands around my neck.  he wouldn’t be caught dead touching someone like me.

this invisible gremlin is all over me.  and i’m kind of indifferent because i love any kind of attention.  he bought me so many drinks in college and i thought, for a while, it was a good system.  we’d drink and we’d dance and we’d follow those adult rules of not talking about work or family while having fun.  

and then the next day, he’d hit me in the face as sharp as the wind on wood street.  “remember, you’re in love with someone who doesn't love you.”  “remember, you’re too awkward to get past the job interview.”  

he keeps me up all hours of the night wanting more from me and my muscles are tense but with no touch of intimacy.  

i’ve spent my whole life being the tallest girl in the room but he has his shoe right over my head.  people watch as he brings me to my knees and they STILL ask me why i’m always apologizing.

it took me years and years to end up realizing that i was apologizing for him.  like an exhausted midlifer apologizing for her ******* husband.  but my favorite stories are the ones where she gets a fresh haircut and a new dress and she realizes she’s worth more than Bud Weiser hollering at her from the recliner and then she writes a new ending for herself.

so thanks for the pencil.

here we are
sitting side by side,
like it was meant to be from the start.

little did we know about each other
but that did not matter
and what a great chance of luck
that we both got stuck
in the same hospital
sitting side by side,
together, through it all.

2 years before me
were you able to see
the monsters that sprouted
in our mind, never doubted.

the disorder of
perfect order,
is what you have.
and hurt yourself
by slashing your wrists
and because of the bullies
that always used their fists.

on our hospital trip,
we met the others.
doctors and nurses gave us all tips,
on ways to not **** ourselves.

he met daniel and nate
in the boys ward.
while i slept in the other gate.
adeline, or addy,
has quite another story.

her combined-adhd
gets the best of her, just like me.
her problems are the
same colours as my own.

she doesn't eat
until she can feel ripples
in her stomach, and see her feet.

the voices of her
tormentours
damaged her soul,
leaving a hole.

a hole exactly where
the bullies would tear
and rip and shred
her own self, until she was dead.

daniel, blonde, eyes so blue.
he was so young,
only age two,
when he was taken away.
the string of his life
were beginning to fray.

he told us of how he dialed
3 numbers on the phone,
and thats how he became a foster child.

from home to house to home
the more he regret
picking up that phone
"you know you did the right thing"
says doctor camille.
"your parents were destroying
your childhood."
doctor camille was right.
that didnt mean
he didnt slip further into depression
each night.

moving and moving and moving.
he never found a place
that didnt feel like he was losing.

every family sent him back,
because he would have attacks,
until finally one family
called the doctor and said,
"hes scared, can't you see?"

schizophrenia,
thats its name.
daniel says its
like a tornado of mania.

he's scared, afraid, terrified.
"what if the voices tell me
to not stop till i have died?"

how can you eat
when all you feel
is fear and beat?

"how am i suppose
to eat when i only
think about when i am so lonely?"

"daniel, its not you.
its your disease that makes
you thinner and blue."

nate -nathaniel- from b gate.
age 12, height five foot, eight.
light brown hair,
running his hands on
his head with care.

nate has been here before,
its not his first time.
he began by saying
he was sexually abused by a "manwhore".

in his old home
back in los angeles,
where his uncle used to roam.
and eventually moving in to stay.
that marked when
nate would be afraid to come out and play.

the self hatred hit you hard
those memories that you wear
have been charred.

when you cry,
you always want to die.
when you hurt,
you leave blood on your shirt.
but when you love,
everything else rises above.

but affection-
you could not feel,
wherever you were headed,
is where the sad kids go to deal.
you weren't into everything,
but your choices made sure you had a good time.
believing all your life
that if paid to love you, no one would spare a dime.

i remember telling us all
about your great hope
of climbing onto a ledge, expecting a fall.
but that moment before you jump,
you said you heard your hurt
go, 'thump, thump, thump.'

and that made you cry.
you explaining to everyone here,
that you still want to die.
but inside you, you hold a deeper fear.

lastly,
lux & lucy,
their story is quite ghastly.
so hold onto your loved ones.
unlike these twins,
you must have tons.

lux sees herself
opposite of her name.
she would exclaim
to us all in group.

black, studs, piercings, hate,
everything she is
and all she wants for herself is to sedate.

"why is that" asks dr. camille.
"because the monsters
in my head cant be revealed."

we all wondered
what monsters she had
all of us sitting here are thundered
by our own devil's minions,
so why did she say no
from her opinion?

for the first few days,
neither lux or lucy
said what made them gaze
off into each
of their own reality.

not until lux was shaken awake,
by one of the orderlies,
which was a big mistake.

she was catatonic,
her eyes i'll never forget,
how they looked so demonic.

later when we had group,
she finally spoke
and as she spoke, her head began to droop.

psychotic depression erupted
through her when she and her sister
were physically corrupted
by their father.

hard punches,
stinging slaps,
lethal kicks,
fatal grips.

lux already had
the disorder
of being bipolar
coursing in her DNA
and her father sought to control her.

'"i can't have a daughter so * up like you."
many times, against the wall
is where he threw
my sister and i.'

after nights like these,
lucy would lock herself in her room
and cry till daylight.

but nights like these,
where she would try to hide,
a banging on her door would make her freeze.

when their father
discovered poor little lucy,
he would beat her for hiding.

the more the twins were hit,
the more lucy was deciding
how much she would force up.

this was her secret,
that only she would keep,
to always force up the food that settled deep.

but after one certain meal,
lucy went to her room,
skipping the bathroom,
and broke the seal
on a new bottle.
this was the deal
she made with herself,
"if everything turned to ***,
take one bottle off the shelf
and let these pills be how you will commit."

'in the hospital i awoke,
which was followed by
meeting all of these folks.'

so this is the true tale
of how we met
of course it lacks a few details,
but to know those secrets
i guess your insanity would have to tip the scales
so you can join us all here,
where we all met.
where we thought we might die,
each of us appeared.
we did not meet
to save each other,
we met before our moments of death
to accompany one another.

i’ve been told
that time heals all wounds
i have found that little nugget of wisdom
to be complete
*******

time is cement
turning things you wish weren’t true
into concrete

time is scarring
wounds scabbed over
ready to be torn open repeatedly
at the slightest
remembering

time is an *******
20 years later
walking through hallways i had hoped never to see again
to look up and see a face
i had hoped never to see again
a face i still see in my nightmares
a face
his face
your face
i name you
nate tollefson



i had traveled 18 times
around the sun
when you shattered my night
the dark took on a new meaning
for me after you

locked door friends pounded on
yells ignored
the fact that i was unconscious
ignored
me ignored
you saw me as an easy target
what you did to me that night
fundamentally changed the way
i let my lovers touch me
to this day
i can’t sleep in clothes
fight or flight can’t be tangled up
when danger arises
i can still feel your weight on top of me
when i wake up screaming
soundlessly
nightmares you handed to me on a silver platter

i kept silent about you
rumors flew after the party
everyone wanted to know what had happened
had we hooked up?
i would just close my mouth and shake my head
afraid of the words that would tumble out
trying to name an act
i couldn’t have stopped
an act i didn’t want

i had been a ****** that night
i wasn’t after you left that room
i bled for 3 days after
torn and hurting
suffered in silence amid the swirling gossip
whispers behind hands into eager ears
until something more interesting
than you and me
a locked door at a party
bloodied calvin klein underwear
grabbed their attention away
they may had forgotten quickly
i still haven’t

after all, you were a star
football and wrestling built your pedestal
a warrior decorated in red and gold
walking like a god among men
why would you need to ****?
yet you did
**** me

i had to look at your face every day
for the next 2 1/2 months
only once after the fact
did you even acknowledge my presence
i was nothing but a number to you



i am now 39 years old
life has led me far from you
yet the stain of you has remained
you handed me a life sentence that night
one you will never know
yet you handed yourself one as well

no matter how successful you are
no matter how much money you make
no matter how beautiful your wife is
no matter how charming your children
no matter how perfect your white picket fence

you will always be
a destroyer of night
a stainer of souls
a robber of trust
a murderer of innocence
a ****** of bodies and hearts
a ******
you
nate tollefson

I was bold;

Sarcastic and Young.

I could run

Ten thousand miles,

                         and then some.

I was never more sad

Than I ever was Happy,

            and I guess I didn’t quite understand

That I really wasn’t all that lucky.

Yet, I didn’t care,

            because I was as tall as the clouds.

Yet, I didn’t care,

             because I was born to go far.

My mother gave me her wisdom.

    My father gave me his strength.

And that gorgeous girl,

        whom I get to hold in my arms and enjoy life with,

Well, she’s the one who’s helping me understand,

                     just  who I truly am.

I am great.

I am kind.

I no longer have to live in my past life.

I am Nate the Great,

            and I am here beside you all,

                 smiling as we risk the fall.