A cool crisp March morning I was driving with my girlfriend down a remote two lane road. 
The sun was blinding if you were to look in the rear view mirror.  The sounds of drums and strings were softly playing through the speakers.  We were coming down into a valley, nearing an intersection to reach our final destination, and tragedy was about to strike in more ways then one.  
    As we entered into the intersection a unexperienced driver was looking into the blinding sunlight at a stop sign. Unbeknownst to him he met the front end of our car when he entered the intersection.  My girlfriend tried to avoid impact by swerving to the left, in the midst of the turning the passenger side wheels came off the ground.   My brain started to flash rolling endlessly down the center of the road.   I remember hearing the screeching of the wheels and the sonic boom of a head on impact. The force pushed us head on towards a light pole off in the distance.  The last thing I remembered was going off the top of the ditch and feeling as if we were hit by another car head on.  The world went dark and all sound was completely cut 
off.
    When consciousness was regained, I remember looking around and seeing dust particles starting to settle down on the dashboard. The windshield looked as if a spider just got done weaving a web and devouring an animal that was twice its size. It looked as if he punctured the defenseless animal in an artery and blood splattered in every direction.  As I look in the distance through the passenger side window all I see was men running from every direction, tripping and falling trying to reach our vehicle. As I turn to ensure my girlfriend is coherent I asked, “Are you okay?”
    She wouldn't reply.  
     Her eyes were open and she had this scared and lost look on her face as if you just saw the hand of the devil.  So I shouted, “ Are you okay?”
    Again, no reply.  
     All of a sudden I hear banging on my window.   I turn to see who was at my window it is a slender built man, in his early 30's, trying to open my door to assess my injuries.  The car had buckled to the point that we were pinned in the car with no way out.  At this same moment,
another man was pounding and screaming at my girlfriend.  She just sat there staring into an oblivion out the front windshield.  I couldn't help but be engulfed in his screams but she would not respond what-so-ever. All other voices and cries out to try to help me were wiped away from my brain.  The only concern in my head was if my girlfriend was going to be okay.  
     This man was screaming, “ Ma'am can you hear me. Ma'am can you hear me. Ma'am can you hear me.”
    Miraculously in the midst of him screaming to the onlookers, “Someone please call 911.   We have serious injuries that need medical attention.”  
     My girlfriend's scared looked turned to horror.  As the guy screamed one more time, “Ma'am can you hear me.”   
    She started crying, looked at this gentleman and cried out, “ Why are you yelling at me?'  
     Oddly enough it was so comforting to here her speak.  It was as if she finally came to, and was back into reality.   Knowing she was coherent I could finally focus on this horrendous pain
that was coming from my leg and my head. I remember asking my girlfriend, “ Do I have a cut on my head.”  
    Blood curdling cries came over her, she just kept screaming, “ Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.”
    Panic started to set in and fear came over me making me think it is my turn to meet my maker.  A gentleman asked my girlfriend, “ put something on his head now!”      
     She was panic stricken and just looking around but not reaching for anything. I remember I turned around and looked in the back seat for something clean that I could put on my head.  
     As I turned I realized I couldn't feel my leg. So I turned to sit back down and saw my leg at the thigh was raised up about 3 inches from my knee.  Realizing I have a serious leg injury panic and fear engulfed my whole body once again.  I tried to open my door to get out and every time I tried to push the door to get out the door wouldn't move.  No matter how hard
I pushed the door wouldn't budge.  
     A man told me, “You are trapped in the car.  Please be patient help is on the way.”  In the distance I could hear sirens slowly getting louder and louder.  
     In the far distance I heard a mans voice yell out, “We need the jaws of life.”  A firefighter yelled out, “Cover your heads with this tarp.”  
     My girlfriend's blood curdling screams got louder and louder as a sledgehammer bashed out each window.  I tried my hardest to console her and let her know we are getting out.  They informed us that she would be taken first so that they could get me out.  
     As they placed her on a stretcher she just kept screaming, “ I love you, I love you.” I heard one final scream from her stating, “I said I loved you.” I tried to yell as loud as I could to tell her I loved her too.  
     The firefighter's informed me that she heard me and they were going to take her to get help.  As they were pulling me out and loading me onto a stretcher I couldn't help but concentrate on the tremendous pain that radiated from my leg.  
     As I look up at the sunny blue sky I all of a sudden felt a cold wind getting stronger and stronger.  I shut my eyes trying to concentrate on warming my body.  
     As I opened my eyes I see helicopter blades spinning right above me.  I asked them what the helicopter was for and they informed it was for me.  I was told I needed immediate medical attention and the fastest way to the hospital was via a helicopter.  I remember looking up at the ceiling of the helicopter and thinking to myself I can't stand heights and I really don't like planes or anything hat flies.  Before I knew it I was being lifted out of the helicopter and transported into the hospital via the rooftop.
    I was brought into a cold and white surgery room.  An I.V.  was administered into my arm and I was told to count back from 100.  So I counted 99, 98, 97 and the lights went out and darkness filled the room and forever more my life has been changed.
    I woke up in a daze to realize I broke my femur in half, a skull fracture, and a broken hand. 
I was told that I would endure a year of physical therapy and lifetime of uncertainty.  My life is now forever changed.  I kept thinking of my kids and how they will never have the same father they had when I woke up this morning.  I now have to face challenges and obstacles from one unexperienced driver's bad mistake.   His bad mistake turned into my daily struggle to recover and reform my life.

    The sun beat down on the back of Joel’s neck as he pulled the handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe his forehead. It’d been sixteen years since Texas had a heat wave this intense in April; that was the year his father pulled him and his brother Manny out of second grade to work in the fields. His favorite months to work were February, March, and April because that was the time to harvest strawberries. They were Joel’s favorite of life’s simple pleasures. His
  favorite color, a beautiful woman in a red dress, a perfect rose, the hot rod his uncle Ruben used to own, in a sweet mouthwatering heart shaped product of the earth. 
    “And nothing to get hung about. Strawberry fields forever,” in his John Lennon voice as he picked a strawberry and ate it. His brother Manny making his way toward him looked like an Olympic hurdler over the rows of strawberry bushes. It was hard to believe he was Joel’s younger twin. Manny stood taller than Joel and was much more handsome in a James Dean sort of way. His strong jaw and bright brown eyes made him look older and more sophisticated. He was also built a little more lean but not as strong or fast as Joel. Together though they made the best duo in soccer, baseball, or bar fights. 
    “How are you doing?” asked Manny.
    “Is it possible to get stuck from bending over too much? I wish they’d give us garden tools we could be efficient with. I’m doing well though. How are you? Here, have some water,” He grabbed his canteen off the dirt and tossed it to Manny.
    “Thank you. I think I’m almost done so I can come help you.” He took a swig of water from the canteen. “I keep thinking of Apa at home, I hope he’s doing okay. It’s so damn hot today. Those storm clouds need to move this way a bit quicker. A nice cool rain would be perfect.”     
     Their father was one of the many people who’d been sprayed in the fields with pesticides by airplanes not only here, but many farms all over Texas and even Arizona and California. He has good days and bad days and seemed like he was going to pull through, but they couldn’t be certain because many of the people they knew who’d either been really sick or known someone else really sick... well, pesticides kill more than bugs let’s just say.
    “I’ve been hearing talk of a rebellion today, when the clouds get overhead,” Manny murmured in Spanish.
    “Oh perfect! While they’re off doing that creating a distraction we can go snatch up the farm owner’s daughters and take them dancing.”
    “I was thinking we could join in. You know you’d like to set some shit on fire and make a stand for everything we deal with. For Apa, you know?” 
    Simultaneously Joel’s eyes grew wide and so did the space between him and his brother as he took a step back and continued his work on the strawberry bushes.
    “You can’t be serious,” he laughed hoping it was a joke. “That’d be muy dangerous.”
    “I am serious. All of them, plus you and I, we could really get what’s owed. The owners have it coming to them, man. Don’t you want to get back at them for what they’re doing to our people, what they did to Apa?”
    “Well yeah, but Manuel, violence isn’t the answer. We’re not just a fight at the bar here. We could get in a lot of trouble afterwards. Somebody could get really hurt. They’re doing non-violent protests and boycotts in California. There’s a guy leading a nonviolent movement out there, Cesar Chavez, he’s getting justice and fair working conditions for workers. Besides we
want to have a job still to bring home payment, not bite the hand that feeds us.” He picked another strawberry to eat.
    “That’s bullshit, Joel. You know we’ll always be able to find work no matter where we are. It’s not like we don’t move several times a year to find a new farm to work on. And why isn’t Cesar Chavez here then? Why are we still being treated like we have no rights? Why are we still being pushed around? Why are we being sprayed with pesticides by airplanes? A lot of good he’s doing with that approach. That’s bullshit, Joel. It’s time to take action.” 
     Manny’s voice was raised, but he was still speaking Spanish to prevent any unwanted listeners.“Isn’t the whole reason we left school in second grade to help support the family? That’s why we’re here right? Because family is everything. What are we doing if we’re not standing up for ourselves, our people, and our sick father at home?” Joel was again giving his full attention to his brother.
    “Lower your voice idiot! You don’t want to attract attention,” he said. He raised his had to his forehead and shook his head. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into things when I’m obviously the one making better decisions.” 
     A drop from the sky landed on Joel’s forehead. He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his brow from the sweat. “The clouds are getting close.”
    When it began raining a group of workers went to the farm owner to collect their pay and create a diversion. The rest gathered farm tools to use as weapons and set fire to his truck and farmhouse.  
    As most set out to destroy the property, some attacked the owner and his colleagues, Joel and Manny were of that small group. No one had expected the owner and his men to be carrying guns. Shots were fired and a man was beaten to a pulp with a garden hoe and a spade shovel and fists and boots of rage. The rebellion didn’t last long as policemen showed up quickly and also drew their weapons. Manny held the owner by his shirt collar and was continually striking him with his fist.
    “Stop what you’re doing and put him down!” shouted an English speaking voice simultaneously with Joel’s inner thought of the exact same request. Another shot was fired, startling Joel to the point his heart dropped. 
     Manny stopped punching the farm owner and let him fall to the ground. Joel rushed over to him only to have his brother fall to the ground before he was even close enough to catch him. Joel dropped to his knees next to his brother Manny while the rain fell on both of them.         
     Now was not the time to say, “I told you so.” But when Joel looked into Manny’s  eyes he seemed to understand that’s exactly what was on the back of Joel’s mind and gave a little smile and laugh that seemed to say, “You were right.”
    “We avenged Apa, brother,” Manny managed to say with his last breath.
    One week later Joel and his father buried Manny. That same day they left for California to join the UFW of United Farm Workers and involved themselves in the nonviolent protests for La Causa.  

    Today we are coming together to bid my sister and my brother in law best wishes on their journey to the north. Elders, wise and aging with stringy gray hair and wrinkling skin, take pride in this young couple. The humility and honor they taught shines bright. As He
Inkpa Duta and Cante Waste Win, my brother in law and sister,ride out of the camp. Young boys and girls gather around, wishing them a safe journey. He Inkpa Duta’s head is held high, confident as he rides by, and eager for their four-day trek.
     A couple days went by, hoping their journey is going well and they’re making good time, I look into the distance. Coming from  the north I see He Inkpa Duta being followed by my sister,his head is hanging on his chest and eyes are low, avoiding contact, as they arrive. Days
  go by, and I notice a change in my sister and brother in law. They’re no longer seen in public together, He Inkpa Duta isn’t one who shies away from the people.
    I go to his tipi, as I approach, Cante Waste Win tells me that she is going to the river to fetch water. She picks up the buffalo bladders, slings them over her shoulder, and walks away singing. 
     The shutters are closed in their tipi, and little light comes through. I see my brother in law is sitting on the ground, crying and looking down, sniffling. I sit and put my arm around my Ciye and ask,
     “What happened to you brother? What is it that troubles you?”
     He Inkpa Duta slowly lifts his head and looks at me. Water builds in his eyes as he tries to  fight back the tears. In a trembling voice he tells me,
     “Brother, I am ashamed.”
    He shakes his head and reflects on emotions,
    “Your sister is the most traditional woman any man can ask for, but what I am going to tell you will trouble you.”
    He takes a deep breath, gasping for air as he fights back hurt emotions.
    “We were riding through the valley by the Crow camp. It was nearing sun down and the people were going back to their camp. We snuck by, by leading our horse on foot. Hoping to be undetected, and as we approached the ridge of the valley, we were spotted by a young Crow
warrior.”
     He stares to the ground, dark, deep, and emotionless. A single tear falls and he continues,
    “As he rode closer to us, I could see the fatigue in his eyes, and he could see it in mine. We were both exhausted, to tired to take each others life so we came to terms to a fist fight, the winner was determined by the last man standing on his feet. We looked at each other, fists
up, and I made the first move. I landed a punch on the right side of his face, and he went down on one knee, but quickly jumped up and tackled me.”
    His head hangs, shaking back and forth,
    “I was to tired to fight back. He sat on top me, driving his fists into my body and face. Slowly I started excepting my defeat. Your sister came running over with a knife, I thought it was in my aid, but handed it to the young man.” 
    He stops, staring at the ground as more painful memories come into his head. Swallowing down lumps of despair and heartbreak, but he continues,
    “She gave it to him and told him to cut my throat.”
    He swallows again and grabs his throat,
     “Both of us quickly rose to our feet, shocked. The young man looked at me while jumping on his horse, his eyes, confused. He shook his head as he rode off. My pride and dignity had gone with him.”
    Sniffling, He Inkpa Duta looks at me, embarrassed, and says,
    “Ever since then, nothing has been the same. I tried to continue on the way we were, but I can’t. I cannot hold my head high, for I now live in shame.”
    My blood begins to boil as I take in the pain and emotions from his story. I storm out of the tipi running towards the river. My heart begins beating fast. I feel the wind blowing pass my ears as I dodge trees, and get hit by branches. My sister is at the bank of the river, and the buffalo bladders are full of Mni. I slowly walk towards her, heart pounding and sweaty, I feel no emotion. I grab the top of her head, but her soft silky hair makes my hand slip. She screams and I start gripping a hand full of hair. I yank her head back. She looks at me, terrified, I grab my knife and put it to her throat. She screams louder, begging for her life. I pull with all my anger and might, the piercing scream stops. I can feel her body go limp. She falls to the ground, lifeless, and covered in blood. Looking at her I do not shed a single tear. I now bear
shame and dishonor.  

Henrie Fogsbhat could not have been more in need of food. It had been more than 8 hours since his last meal and the impact of that fact was just peeking over the hills of his misty mind. Henrie lay upon the ground of his living room, surrounded by mounds of shredded cheese and tacit regret. In his brain Henrie knew it wrong, the life he lived. But after all, he had a wife, and she was good. He had a house and car. They were not so good. But they were there and he could make do. Thus was his disjointed reasoning as he clambered noisily to his strained feet. 
    It was a pleasant morning, for sure, as Henrie Fogsbhat rolled forth from his flat at 421 C Baker Street. The mission was clear: to obtain other kinds of food, because damn it all if cheese wasn’t getting boring! 
     “Hey there, Billius!” he called exuberantly, sweaty faced.  
     It was several moments before the answer was expelled from his neighbor’s bathroom window. It came in the form of a bottle of shampoo, hurled with such force that it burst upon impact with Henrie’s massive stomach. 
    He must remember to ponder sometime on his own inadequacies and how they affected his development of self and his relations to others. But for now he decided that it must be put aside in light of more important things. Those things being the local grocery store. It was 10 minutes and 2 blocks later that Fogsbhat remembered to check his pockets to make sure he had sufficient funds for the purchase. He did not. But rather than return to his home (because he deemed it too much work) he ascertained that he must get it from the next person to cross his path. In London, he rationed, this should not be difficult to accomplish. 
    At last! A woman on which to exercise his charm! Henrie sucked in his gut and adjusted his face to as friendly a setting as it would allow. As the moment of suave request descended upon the duo, Henrie felt an uncontrollable urge to burst into song. What song he knew not, but he felt the need to herald this woman’s beauty. He was within feet of her, but in his genuine focus he neglected to notice the small yellow object in his path. He opened his mouth to begin the
serenade, however, in accordance with his typical luck, just at that moment his left heel caught upon the slippery surface of a rogue banana peel. Jowls a’flappin’, howling in displeasure, he went down. His glorious tribute quashed by something resembling a dying bumblebee. The woman, so radiant in her features, proved equally as graceful in personality. She exuded a small squeak of surprise before offering her hand to the lumbering beast on the ground. He
took it, clasped it in both of his own and nearly pulled her over in his struggle to gain a standing posture. 
    “I’m so sorry sir, I—I fear I distracted you when it would have been better to concentrate on the road ahead…” She said, looking abashed and very, very shaken. In the commotion she had sunk her hands into her pockets out of reflex. It looked as though she was ready to disburse something from them. She also did not look at all ready for him to speak, but speak he did. 
    “Henrie Fogsbhat, madam, that’s my name, and don’t you worry I’m quite alright!” She opened her mouth as if to reply but in the end she seemed to decide it was best not to say anything. She simply nodded and began to go on her way. “Er.. Was nice to meet you madam! Eh, I wanted to—“ But by this point she had already rounded the nearest corner, and Henrie was left with a sore posterior and the thought that he had meant to ask for something. 
    At length he sauntered into Nettles’general store and went straight to the correct aisle where he picked out a Toblerone bar. Next he began his journey towards the cashier who looked decidedly displeased at his coming. When asked to pay the 1.26 pounds required for the purchase, he found that the woman had planted a pound on him, he happily thanked her in his memory and proceeded to bring forth the less than savory completing sum of the payment from his back pocket. 
    With a grimace that made Henrie feel less than optimal, the man took the money in exchange for the candy, shaking his head as Fogsbhat executed his exit out into the streets of London. Perhaps someday he would change, but not today, that would be too hard… probably.

    It is a sweltering day in the suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona, and the only thing on Mr. White’s mind was getting home to take a nice cold shower and get out of his suit and tie.  After battling heavy traffic for a good part of an hour, Mr. White finally arrives at his apartment building, but only to find that the inside of the building was hotter and thicker than the air outside.  The
air conditioning unit was out.  All ready in a half sweat, Mr. White enters the elevator to make the ascent to his top floor penthouse.  
    He’s alone as he enters, and this makes him happy.  He wants no interaction with any other human being in these kind of conditions.  Just as the elevator door is about to come to a close, a hand catches it.  A dirty hand, covered with grease and sweat and dirt.  The elevator door opens back up, and a younger man, about half the age of Mr. White, enters into the elevator. 
He’s wearing a dirty plain white t-shirt with jean shorts.  The red cap on his head has some logo on it, but so faded out that Mr. White can’t make out what it says, nor does he really care. 
He also has a backpack that is clearly packed to the brim with some sort of supplies.  Mr. White is appalled by the unbearable stench of body odor that this young kid has brought
onto the elevator.  His face cringes, and he steps as far up against the back corner as he can, but it is no help.  The young man looks at Mr. White and nods.
    “What’s up, man?” says the young guy.
    “Mmm.” Mr. White says.
    “Hot as shit out there, huh?”  
     “Mmm.” replies Mr. White again, as he pulls out his phone and pretends to be engaged in something else. 
     The young man can see he’s not getting anywhere and shakes his head as he turns, facing forward again. The elevator finally starts going up, and by the 4th floor Mr. White is starting to come to terms with the reek of the young guy standing right next to him, which smells like the inside of a men’s locker room.  On the 6th floor the elevator stops and picks up a woman. 
She has a really big nose and her head is balding severely.  She’s also holding two babies in her arms, and what appeared to be another one on the way. The young man smiles at her and strikes up some small talk.  Mr. White just rolls his eyes and checks his watch for the time.  When the elevator starts going up, it surprises the woman.
    “Oh no, I thought this elevator was going down, I need to go down.”  she says, and turns to Mr. White and asks if he’ll hold one of the babies for her so she can stop the elevator and
get off.
    “For what? You’re just going to have to wait until we get to my floor, then you can go down,” he says. 
    Her eyes widen in surprise and her eyebrows lower in anger.
    “You know, there’s a nicer way to talk to a lady” she says.
    With the kind of day that Mr. White has had, he is in no mood for any of this. 
    “I don’t care, shut up! Everyone shut up!  Not another word until we’re off of this elevator,” he screams.  
     His loud, deep voice startles the babies that the mother was holding, and they both start to cry.
    “Oh my god, are you serious! Shut those babies up!” says Mr. White.
    The young man steps in and shoves Mr. White, just enough to catch him off kilter.
    “Will you settle down, they are babies for christ sake,” he says
    In all of the commotion, the elevator shakes really hard and starts to slow down.  It gets really quiet, and the elevator comes to a halt, and the lights inside slowly dim until it is complete darkness.  They are stuck, and they stand there in silence, the babies both stop crying in sync.  The air is getting thicker by the minute, the heat inside the elevator dampens everyone’s clothes with sweat, and the smell becomes even worse than before.  
     Mr. White pushes the emergency button, and they wait.  
     Five minutes later and no one has said a word to each other.  Another ten minutes go by, and the three adults stand there, still in silence.  The babies have fallen asleep on their  mother’s shoulders.  Mr. White is trying to get some sort of signal to his cell phone, but there is nothing.  Every couple of minutes he cusses out loud so everyone knows he’s still pissed off.  He curses the elevator and the people who work in his building, as if it is going to fix the elevator.  
     After a half hour of standing in the dark, hot, sticky elevator the lights finally go back on, and the elevator starts moving again.  They all look at each other, smiling.  Even Mr. White is smiling.  The relief of not being stuck anymore was enough to brighten everyone’s day.  The elevator reaches Mr. White’s twenty-fourth floor penthouse, and he steps out of the elevator.  He’s surprised to see the young man stepping out of the elevator on the same floor.
    “You live on this floor?” Mr. White asks snidely.
    “No, I don’t.  I’m the mechanic on site,” the young man replies.
    Mr. White looks puzzled: “Okay? So why didn’t--” 
    The young man keeps walking down the hall towards the roof access.  “Have a good one, man.”

    We packed the last of our luggage into the back of the forest green Suburban. Before I closed the hatch I counted to make sure we had everything. Food, books, guitar, and towels. That last one was especially important. Don’t forget to bring a towel, you never know when you might need one. Whenever I go anywhere I forget a towel, but not this time I thought to myself. I closed the cargo door and hopped in the back seat next to my girlfriend. She had just finished her finals and we were off to celebrate with a weekend at her families cabin. Even though I had school for another month I couldn’t pass up a trip to my favorite place in the world. 
    The beast of a truck roared as Dick turned the key. He pulled away and we were off. Thoughts of fishing washed over me. Maybe Dick will teach me how to gut a fish this weekend I thought. My mouth started to water at the thought of fresh caught fried Northerns. 
    We were on 35N, and already making good time. I put my headphones on and blasted my current favorite band Woe, is Me while watching the trees pass by. I tapped my fingers lightly on my knee imagining each instrument coming to life. The world I once knew started to fade away and was replaced with relief and excitement. I was finally away from the thought of school, work and people. Being around people all the time gets to be obnoxious, and the cabin is the best solution to that problem. I watched as the trees grew thicker and the forest became more dense. 
    I stopped paying attention to what roads we were on. Every thought seemed to disappear except for the thought of trees. How long have they been here? I tried to imagine the forests surrounding us on both sides as infants. I smiled at the window breaking my deep concentration, picturing baby trees sucking on pacifiers. I looked over at Melissa who was passed out on her seat. She used a towel from the back as a pillow. I knew those towels would come in handy. I rumbled around in my back pack looking for something else to keep me busy for an hour. Underneath my own towel I found some snack crackers with peanut butter and
my eyes lit up. I slipped off my shoes and crossed my legs and used my towel as a soft table to make my peanut butter cracker sandwiches. I didn’t have a knife so I used my fingers.
    “20 minutes,” said Dick. That was the first time he said anything the entire trip I realized. Usually you couldn’t get him to shut up. I put my snack back in my bag and wiped my face of left over crumbs. I gave Melissa a shove and she growled and continued sleeping. I couldn’t get my legs to sit still. The first thing I am going to do after helping unload is put together my fishing pole and go straight down to the dock I thought. We took a left onto a dirt path and continued onward. The Road curved and we made another left. After five minutes we finally pulled into the driveway of the cabin. It was just like I remembered from the previous summer. The cabin itself was longer than it was wide and raised off the ground. It was a light tan color. There was a stained wooden deck and a cobble path leading down to the lake. To the left of the driveway was a garage for the boat and a shed for the fishing and swimming gear.
I gave Melissa another shove.
    “We’re here!” I said to her in excitement. She stretched and nodded with an audible yawn. I smiled at her and she smiled back. We opened the doors and stepped into the afternoon sun.

    So let me give you some background on where I am. It was the summer before senior year of highschool and I have been going to camp since I was in 8th grade. This was my last week I
could go there as a camper. I have had my ups and downs at camp and I knew that I wanted to make this week the most memorable week of the summer. I went up with a group of friends every year, and this time we would all be in the same cabin.     
     Two of the things that we do at camp are cabin time, and free time. For cabin time your cabin and another cabin would go to a part of camp and do an activity together, and for free time you could do just about whatever you wanted to do. I loved this part of camp. I could go to the rope swing, I could go to the beach, I could rock climb and much more. 
    It was the first day of the camp and we were paired up with a girls cabin to go to the rope swing. The swing was one of the most fun things to go on. It never really gets old, and you can
always try new things when swinging off. I had only been on it a couple of times, but this would be the first with a cabin. 
     So there I was, sitting on the edge of the dock. Feet in the water looking out onto the lake. That was the first time that I saw her. I could only see her head bobbing up and down in the
water as she swam back to shore, but believe me, that was enough. I had seen enough and I knew that she looked stunning but, being the shy guy, I didn’t say anything and just smiled at her. 
    Finally the end of cabin time came. I was happy and sad that it was over. I loved the rope swing, but I think I had just met the most amazing girl I have ever laid eyes on. I wondered if I
would ever see her again. Ya ya, I know that it is a small camp, and the chances are good that I would see her again, but this wasn’t enough. Somehow she imprinted herself in my mind, and I was going crazy trying to find a way to see her. 
     Dinner finally came and the whole camp congregated at the dining hall. Just like any other meal, I went in with my friends, stood in line, and started to talk to to them. I would briefly
detach myself from the conversation to scan the room full of people hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Just when I was walking away from getting my food trying to find a table I saw her. She was standing at the end of the line with about 5 of her friends. I am not one to go out when I first meet someone and ask if they want to hang out, but this was different. Both of us had a connection at the rope swing. 
    I found a table and sat my tray down and started to look around the room again signaling my friends that I had found a table. When a few more of my friends arrived, I sat down and took one final look around the packed lunch room. There she was, talking to her friends, laughing and then the occasional glance to me. I smiled and waved at her, and she proceeded to gesture me to come over there and talk to her. So I grabbed a roll off my plate and headed over to talk to her.     
     I approached her with a smile and she returned the favor. I met the few friends that were with her in line. I stayed with them getting to know them until they got their food, then I went
back to my table. I couldn’t get her off my mind now. She had implanted herself in my head and was there to stay. Before I left the dining hall, I asked if she wanted to hang out next free time and she said yes. 
    That next day we met up at the entrance of the camp to start free time. We went walking around camp just to get to know each other first. I saw some of my friends on the zip line and climbing wall and she saw some of hers at the beach getting a tan. Being the nice person that I was quick to figure out she decided to meet my friends. I asked her if she had done any rock climbing or gone on the zip line here and to my surprise she said that she hadn’t. So for the next few hours we did some rock climbing and zip lining. 
    From playing frisbee to sitting on the beach talking. She told me that this has been one of the best weeks of her life. Neither of us really expected to hang out this mush, but neither of us were complaining. It was relaxing to the both of us. It just felt right to be with her. When we weren’t hanging out, my mind was on her. 
     The next few days were spent getting to know each other. Talking to each other’s friends and just hanging out. I think even some of my friends made friends with her friends. By the end of the week we were so close, we spent every time that we didn’t have to be with our cabins together. We had made a big group of people to hang out with.     
     On the last night there is always a bonfire and time for the camp to reflect on the week and have an intimate moment. We were on the far side about 3 rows up from the all camp bonfire. The night went on singing songs and sharing stories that had happened during the week. I told the camp about this person that I had met and how I had spent the entire time with them and grown to like them a lot, and with that my night ended in a kiss from her. It was the one thing that I wasn’t expecting. 
     On the way back from camp we all sat together on the bus. We spent the last remaining hours of camp together on that crowded bus still talking and joking around. I couldn’t think of any better way to spend that time. 
    Well the time came and we had arrived back home. With that the week was over. One of the most memorable weeks so far. I sat on the curb in the parking lot with her waiting for her parents to come and pick her up. When they finally came, we kissed and said our goodbyes. I
knew this was just a temporary goodbye because we already had a date a couple days later. 
    Thinking back on it, if I hadn’t have gone to the rope swing that first day, none of this would have happened. The last meal that we had up at camp was a meal just for planning. Trying to see what all of our schedules were so that we could hang out. Not only had her and I connected, but each of the groups that we were in connected. We were now one big group that got along with each other really well.

    He was  supposed to be her first, but at same time, he became her last. Exhausted from  the lies and apologies, this time saying I love you was like hearing a bad joke.  It not important, nor is it funny, at all. But what did they truly know about  love, her mother exclaimed every time they're in her presence. They had only  been together upon entering the 10th grade and have been in high school for a  year and a half. Every day after class, they'd find themselves sitting on large  rock in the yard of the school. It was a peacefully place aligned with roses and  daisies. The rock was painted by the previous students of the past showering  their Jackson High pride. Sasha turns to Thomas and asked "why do you love me",  as he sits with a guilt look in his eyes and lost for words. Thomas was a tall  athletic build pretty boy type of guy who felt he can have any woman he wants.  Sasha, at times, didn't feel that she was pretty nor could she amount to the  other females in her community. Again she looked at Thomas waiting on a reply.  By instinct, Thomas came up with cleverly put together words as if they
were  rehearsed for a movie roll. But before he can finish, Sasha cuts him off saying  "You are such an actor Thomas, and this time I'm not buying it". She got up and  walks away to shield her frustration and pain. For every foot step she takes,  another tear falls as Thomas does nothing to stop her.
    What's  wrong, Sasha hears coming from the long wooden hallway. She recognizes her  mother voice but storms the other way. Heading to her small room in the back of  the house, all she can think about is how Thomas hurt her, and she never want to  see him again. It was only Tuesday, and they shared 3 classes together so that  was nearly impossible. When she gets to her room, her heart began to race. She  opens the door slowly as if there were monsters hiding in her bedroom. She  stands in the door way and just looks around, scared to enter
as if it wasn't  her place of rest. Sasha just realized how photogentic she was.  Always taking  pictures of her and Thomas. Pictures where placed everywhere; on the dresser,  the walls, in the crack of the mirrors, she even had a life size picture on the  back of the door to put her to sleep at night.Then, instantly, Sasha snapped.  Yelling out every negative word she can think of to disrespect a man, she starts  spinning like wild twister through a city of dreams causing
objects to go flying  and glass shattering, leaving her room in a horrific mess. Out of breath, she  throws her self on the floor and all she she can do now cry. 
     "Can i come in" her  mother says. but without an answer she enters with caution. She walks over to  where Sasha is laying and sits down beside her. Holding her daughter as close as  possible, she whispers to her repetitively, it's gonna be okay.

    The  school year was finally over. Summer time was here and that meant Sasha can  sleep in all day and do nothing. Mom was an independent business owner who ran a  small printing and embroidery shop. Business was picking up and was starting to  be large for her small building. After months of searching, she stumbles across  a vacant location west of the river that was twice as big as her previous shop  and the price was still affordable. "Perfect" mom says while setting up her  appointment online. Two weeks later, she breaks the good news to
Sasha. "Guess  what, we're moving to Minneapolis". Sasha's face instantly drops. Her body goes  limp, as if she lost all control of her muscles. "Why Minneapolis" she replied.  He mother goes on to explain to her that it's for the better of them and the  company. But Sasha zones out. She was in love with their small pink home shoved  far back from the street. The yard was over powered by 2 large Weeping Willow  trees casting a dark scary shadow, but it was still home. 
    It  was time to pack and mom was helping Sasha clean her room. She noticed a small  booklet filled with writing. She picks it up and reads  …but men only  want one thing, SEX, and that’s not what I want. I love that she smiles whenever I come around. When Tonya hugs me, it feels so magical but I don’t know why. 
     Instantly  Sasha walks in snatches the book from her mom. “That’s personal” she says. 
    Mom’s face was filled with questions and concerns but she holds back. They continue packing and  putting everything in the truck. 
    A  month goes by and Sasha feels like she’s in a foreign land. Looking out the window, she sees kids playing. Every day around 5pm, her neighbor pulls up and waves whenever she sees her. She must have notice  Sasha looking because she wave up to to the second floor window. The house next  door was filled with girls ranging from ages 18 to about 20. 
     They’re different  over there, Sasha  thinks to herself. Her neighbor kept her hair in a ponytail, with baggy clothes  and had a style unlike any other woman. “I’m going  outside mom” she yells as  she steps into the fresh air. 
    “Hi my name is  Tracy but everybody calls me Tee”, she hears coming for across the yard. It was the next door neighbor again. She was outside  sitting on the steps enjoying the nice summer day. They exchange much conversation about each other and realize they are not much different. Times flies and to their surprise, the sun was setting and neither has eaten so they head back inside their homes. Sasha yells out bye and slowly closes the front door. 
    The  next morning, Sasha wakes up anxious. Before even brushing her teeth, she looks  out the window to see if she see Tee’s car outside. It’s still there. She can smell the aroma of bacon coming from the kitchen then heads  downstairs. “Good morning” her mom says. “Everything
smells good” Sasha  replies. 
    As soon as she makes her plate, she goes to work. She scarf’s down her food as if she was running late for a meeting then bolts back upstairs to get ready for her day. Getting dress, she can hear people laughing and talking outside. It was Tee and her friends. There were three girls that dressed like Tee did and one guy. “Tee, what’s up Tee” Sasha yells out the window. “I’m coming  out”. 
    Standing  outside, Sasha notice everyone had went inside. She walks over to  Tee’s house and is starting to get nervous. She holds her breath and knocks twice. Loud music feels the air. The windows of the house are open but she didn’t hear any  talking. She knocks harder, and then the music comes to an abrupt halt. She  hears a deep mail voice yell “one second, I  got to get the door”. 
     “Who is”. 
     No reply,  Sasha stands froze in shock. Then the door opens. 
    “Is Tee here?” Sasha says. 
    The man just makes a gesture as if he wasn’t Sasha to follow him. He sits down at a computer and she can see Sasha behind a glass standing at a microphone with headphones on. From the speakers, she can hear Tee  talking. 
    It  was time for a break. After recording, Tee sits down with Tasha. 
     “I didn’t know you rap” Sasha says. 
    Then Tee says “That’s all we do.  It’s a way for  us to relieve ourselves without being judged by the world. You can rap with us  if you want”. 
     Sasha just  holds her head down like a shy kitten. Sasha has always written poems and short  stories but never placed her words to a rhythm but she felt she had the ability  deep inside. They go back upstairs to have lunch. Tee introduces everyone to  Sasha and they make her feel welcomed. 
    “So are  y’all gay”? Sasha says. 
    “No, people consider us dikes or butches; I just say we’re just people. But don’t worry, we  won’t hit on  you”. Tee says.  
    Sasha never had friends before. She goes on to explain to them her story  including about Thomas. To her surprise, they can relate. 
    The  clock strikes 12 and before they knew it, hours turned into a day. Sasha had  never had that much fun in her life. Instantly her mom comes to mind. 
     “I got to  go”. Sasha runs jumps up and heads out the door as fast as she could. She goes into the house to  yells mom. Her mom was sitting in the living room. She starts to get up
because  her movie just went off. 
    “I knew you were next door so you’re ok”. Mom says.  
    Then Sasha gives her mom a bear hug and says “I love our new home”.

    What a bunch of idiots. These people I surround myself with are total morons. One of them literally thinks up is down. He is a twisted fellow. He spends most of his time one is head, so I guess in all reality he is right. We call him Lance. 
    My next cuckoo friend would be Darla. She talks to birds, only eats food with two syllables in the name, and calls everyone Sport. The Good Doc doesn’t really like her, and I like to take her feelings into consideration, especially during our one-on-one conference calls in the social corridor. 
     I almost forgot about Shmitty! He is an old sailor, weary with war wounds and as foul as the ocean’s depths. He really likes to get the rest of us into trouble. He always finds a way or roping us into teasing the white-coated servants, or stealing things from out neighbors in the hall. 
    It is not really fair that there are four of us in this cramped room when everyone else gets their own. I think we got the short end of the stick when it came to leases. The Good Doc just renewed us for another six months. 
    What a bunch of idiots I live with. I eat, sleep, and breathe these buffoons. Sometimes the Good Doc tells me I should leave them, get some alone time for myself, but I ignore her. She is smart, but not so bright in the head. I always get a kick from watching those three play cards.
    We were all sitting in my room one day. Lance was in the corning, propping his sorry self up against the wall. Darla was eating her carrots and pancakes. And Shmitty was contemplating all the uses for the word fuck. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. It seemed I was the only one to hear it. 
     I wonder if it is a new friend. 

    The general was standing in the middle of the War Room, slightly bent at the waist and leaning against the edge of the command table.  His fingers feverishly drumming the polished cream-colored marble table-top.  There were two highly decorative vipers with their tails entwined and necks coupled, bearing sharp fangs and split tongues forming a large O directly in front of the general in the form of a golden inlay upon the magnificent marble.  This was the crest of The Order.  Gold and scarlet runners lay neatly upon the long walkway leading to the
door and around the command table.  Three giant tapestries bearing The Order’s crest were draped from the high ceiling covering the left, right, and back walls of the octagon shaped
room.  Light clicking and whirring sounds could be heard coming from a fairly large and intricate looking hourglass, attached to some kind of golden mechanical gyro-scope. 
It was sitting upon a thick, stout marble pillar directly behind the general, slowing spinning on its vertical axis while crystal clear grains of golden sand swirled from the top portion of the hourglass to the bottom portion, changing in color to a brilliant black as though it were being manipulated by some kind of magic.  
     The general continued to drum his fingers on the marble table in a fit of silent rage.  He stared at the same spot on the floor just in front of the command table and didn’t blink for what seemed like minutes.  His face was expressionless, but his eyes were roaring with anger. 
How could he allow them to escape?!  He screamed at himself in his own head.  He had no
answer.  As he continued to flay himself for his blunder, the room began to echo uncomfortably with the sounds of his violent finger drumming and the clicking noises coming from the gears in the hourglass behind him.  The generals first officer was standing off to his right, nearly pressed against the wall, looking as though he were afraid to come any closer to the general, as if he were a volatile explosive device.  He stood silently with his arms held stiffly behind his back and was struggling to keep himself from fidgeting.  His head was tilted downwards slightly, like a scorned dog, and he stared at his toes for the majority of the time, only occasionally adjusting his gaze to the general when he could no longer fight the urge to look at something other than the floor.  The tension in the room was now terribly uncomfortable and the air seemed to get denser, making it difficult to breathe.  Finally conjuring the courage to say something, the first officer swallowed hard and cleared his throat.               
     “Ahem…umm, Sir, perhaps we sh-“
    His attempt to speak was cut short by a bellowing voice coming from the allway.      
     “GENERAL FERINUS!” yelled the voice.
    The general snapped out of his silent fit of anger. He stood up straight upon hearing the voice, and his right hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.  The yelling soldier came barreling through the doorway.
    “Sir…SIR!”  Yelled the soldier, running up to General Ferinus and looking as though he might topple over with every step.  He stumbled to a stop directly in front of general.  He was bent over with one hand on his knee, and the other one clutching his ribs.
    “Catch your wind soldier.” Said General Ferinus, grabbing the soldiers shoulder with his left hand.  His right hand still clasped tightly around the hilt of his sword.
    “Sir…we just got word…Banon and his companions... one of our scout teams… they spotted them, Sir!”  Gasped the soldier.
    “WHERE?! Where were they spotted?!”  Demanded Ferinus, his hand clamping down on the man’s shoulder, causing him to wince slightly.
    “The Black Forest, Sir.”  Said the soldier.
    Ferinus shot a hurried look over his shoulder at the hourglass behind him.  He watched as the sand in the equalized between the upper and lower bulbs, indicating it was mid-day.
    “We haven’t much time!” exclaimed Ferinus. “Quickly, send word to the western outpost and have them send a large regiment into the forest to intercept them.  We must catch them before nightfall or we may never find them in that forest.”
    “Yes, Sir!  Right away, Sir!” Barked the soldier.  He stood up straight, clacking his heels together and jerking a clenched fist to his chest, placing it firmly over his heart in salute.  Ferinus gave him no reply, and the soldier walked hurriedly out of the War Room.
    “Raspier!”  Said Ferinus, addressing his first officer.  “I need you to go down to the pens and have my Bengal prepared for travel. You and a group our finest men will accompany me to the western post immediately.”
    “Right, Sir.” Replied Raspier.
    “I must go and inform Lord Vilen of these recent developments at once.”  Said Ferinus.
    “Oh, and Raspier...” Ferinus added, “…be sure to keep my Bengal light, I would like to arrive at the western post beforethey return with Banon and his… friends.”
    The generals face turned to a grimace when speaking his last  word.
    “Of course, Sir.” Replied Raspier, nodding his head and immediately making his way down to the pens.
    Ferinus, now alone, began pacing excitedly back and forth across the room with his hands writhing in front of him and a sinister smile spread across his face.  Maxwell Banon.  He thought to himself, gripping a fist tightly in his hand and squeezing it so hard his knuckles
cracked loudly.  Banon… the traitor.  He knew nothing of loyalty.  He had turned against Lord Vilen, running off with Azvaran’s son and that pathetic rabble he had the dishonor of calling his friends. His face immediately turned to disgust.  He stood up straight, lattening his collar and rolling down the sleeves of his shirt. He walked over to one of the marble statues around the outside of the room where he had hung his dress coat.  He picked it up and swung it behind him, putting it on.  He put on his gold cuff links and straightened the crest that was pinned to the front of his coat.  He took a deep breath, preparing himself to break the good news to Lord Vilen.
TO BE CONTINUED...