“I just want it to end…” he thought to himself

“There’s nothing to live for here” He got up slowly and walked around looking through things. Underneath the stairs he found his father’s tool box and opened it. As if the universe has planned it all along sitting on the top layer of the tool box sat a razor. It shined as if the blade had its own light begging to be used. His hands shaking he picked up the blade and slowly turning it in his hands looked at it. It seemed to him to be brand new with the way it shined in the dark room. He walked with it back to the corner he had been sitting in and sliding down sat and stared at it. His mind started wandering back to everything that had happened again. Slowly he started hearing voices egging him on to do it.

“All it takes is two quick cuts…”  Tears rolled down his face as he listened to them

“You have no place in this world you never did…”

“This is all you have left to do to be free…”

“They won’t ever miss you…”

“Embrace the darkness you have no choice…”

Starting to panic he looked back and forth thinking that owners of the voices were sitting all around him. Seeing nothing but the shadows he began to shudder as he realized they were his own thoughts. Setting the blade down on the ground, he looked at his arms. A couple bruises lined his left arm from where he had been grabbed and shoved from the room upstairs earlier. He then looked up to his wrist and noted the veins underneath. His pale skin allowed him to see them perfectly in the dim lit room. Again the voices started to whisper to him.

“How easy to end it all on your own…”

“Won’t even need to cut deep…”

“This is all you are good for…”

“You know you will end it….it’s only a matter of time….”

He reached down and slowly picked up the blade. Outside the rain began to increase its rattling against the small window. Turning his left wrist up he slowly brought the knife down but was unable to drag it across his wrist. He remembered something then it was like the sun exploded in his mind and he saw the one time he had truly felt free and happy. He had been five years old and was in a field running around in circles. He remembered the butterflies and how his mom had smiled while watching him play.

“You’re the reason she died…”

Suddenly the memory jumped and he watched as she wrapped her arms around him only to see a bright flash and the world turned black. When he had awoken it had been in a hospital bed five days later. It was two weeks before anyone told him what had happened to his mom and they all had blamed him. Tears of frustration rolled down his face at the bitter memoriehs.

“She doesn’t want me to die…” he thought “She gave her life up just to save me…”

He threw the blade away from him and it sailed through the air like a fallen star. Hugging himself tightly he set about in his mind exactly what he was going to do……

Atlantic Coast United States, 2036 A.D. September
War. One of the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse had always been an “Us v. Them” type of activity, yet every time the “us” in the equation skewed the line of “them” including civilians. Mothers, fathers and children were always part and parcel in the game of war, and no burg on the coast had been spared from the specter of death and destruction when the United Asian Forces broke through the American Merit Time Defense. The forces had been smashed against their borders and the Asian armies crossed into the Continental United States and took no prisoner. What happened in Europe was no different. How the Asian forces mustered so many men to fight was unfathomable.
In a smoky, burned out cathedral Sgt. Snyper sat in a shadowy nook evaluating her ammunition, and regrouping. The sounds of gunfire and explosions lingered in the near terrain of the city she held up in. Her once long brown hair had been cut short, “for safety” she had said, a bit above her shoulders and bound in a tight knot in the back. Snyper kept a spare clip on her hip for her rifle, but after being separated from her unit she had gone through more ammo than anticipated.
Her intent green eyes roamed over the white poly-armor A4-F3 Tactical Sniper Rifle, a prototype next-generation plasma weapon she had been given to test in the theater of war, and with lethal efficiency. Snyper’s record was uncanny compared to the greatest shooters to ever join a military unit. By many accounts, she was nearly perfect on the field, knowingly missing only one shot in her four-and-a-half years of service. And her shots were never easy. Windy, rainy conditions where few reconnaissance teams rarely fought were minor annoyances to her. Her spotter, Captain Harold Tiller sat in another corner, an M4 laying across his lap, shooting up a pain-killer for the bullet he’d taken when hell was unleashed on their position.
“Sir, are you feelin’ better,” Snyper asked as she counted her rounds in her plasma cartridge. What she got from Captain Tiller was a soft groan, and she heard him move slightly, signaling he was alive. She nodded and continued on. “Do you have any idea where we are?”
Cpt. Tiller slid slowly and carefully out of the shadows and into the moonlight where a shell had ripped the roof off the cathedral and pulled out his digital map. The Geo-synchronous satellite had been crippled by an E.M.P., electromagnetic pulse high in the upper atmosphere. The green flickering partially three-dimensional map was almost useless without an orbiter to update the data.
“We’re on the edge of the town where we’d come in,” he groaned as he picked himself up to a slap of stone to sit and show her what the map had for data three weeks back. “According to the terrain, we’re able to get out undetected through a tunnel heading into the sewers. The gates would be our only obstacle.”
“That and your leg, sir,” she replied. Sliding from the shadows quietly herself she checked the wound he’d tied off with the sleeve of his uniform when they got inside. “If you get that infected you won’t be any good walking, and you could die when we get back to the F.O.B.”
Snyper was pretty, beautiful by many men’s opinions, yet she never saw herself as “beautiful”, always finding fault, something to cover up. Where other girls had preferred dresses and make-up, she wanted fatigues and mud. At twenty-seven, many would have gone on to start families, but she had a relationship with the military when she enlisted. The war had been raging for several years by the time she had completed basic training, and when assigned to the 183rd Combat Reconnaissance Team and matched up with Captain Tiller.
The Captain was a balding man in his early 40s, the exact number he would not tell, like Snyper not telling her first name, with slate gray eyes, a squared jaw and a squared nose where he’d had it broken a couple times. He was as professional as they came, and kept Snyper’s impulsiveness under control.
Where she’d asked him about his leg he grew dismissive and pointed at the map.
“Are we going to get out of here Snyper, or are we going to sit here and worry about my leg?”
“Please continue, sir,” she relented. She sat beside him on the stone and they went over the map.
“If we enter the gate here, the water should be lower by now, it hasn’t rained in a few nights. We can circle around the bulk of the fighting and get back to base without incident.” He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand and swallowed a drink of water from his canteen. He wouldn’t tell her, but fever was already setting in. “If we’re lucky, we can get an account of the enemy numbers and relay that to Central Command.”
A crashing door outside got their attention, and Snyper moved quickly and quietly to the top of the stairs and looked between the wooden posts in the railing to examine the source of the commotion. U.A.F soldiers were doing a sweep after obliterating the unit that Snyper and Tiller had accompanied. They were searching for the rest and were advancing toward their position. She signaled back it was four soldiers armed with assault rifles. She kept quiet and crab walked toward the corner where a hole gazed down over the pulpit from the rear. She could see the soldiers clearly from here and began to line up her shot. Captain Tiller had worked his way back to his quiet dark corner and turned off the map. He grabbed his assault rifle and watched the stairs. Snyper was laying prone, the white and gray rifle she had lined up with the fourth of the soldiers as they checked the confessional and the Father’s offices on the main floor. The soldiers flipped over broken benches and set fire to the pews as they stepped on the wooden stairs going up.
Things weren’t the way they would have been in the cathedral. Where there would have been a hallway, doors, more office space, a Sunday School room, there was a sloped column of stone that led to the stairs where Snyper and Tiller were hold up. The wood on the steps creaked loudly, groaning in protest of the weight one man put, then another. The slender Asian soldiers climbed slowly in single file. The first two disappeared under a slanted doorway arch. The third and fourth took a quick pirouette to look back behind, cover their flanks, and first the man third in line turned and walked up the stone slab first, then the fourth. Once he’d gotten out of sight, the fourth turned his back to Snyper and she pulled the trigger.
The A4 began to power cycle, hummed softly against her right cheek. The digital scope gave her a reading of the fourth man’s heart rate, and suddenly the weapon fired.
PSST!
The soldier fell hard, his assault rifle discharged and the other three began to curse in their native tongues. The third man pressed his back against the archway he just passed under, and Snyper’s aim was true. She caught him with a plasma slug between the eyes so perfect it practically passed through his head, front to back, and left the tiniest of holes.
Her position was known, the other two peered through holes in the wall and began to fire hard. Snyper quickly slid back from the edge of the lip of the opening and moved back behind the broken slab of granite she and Cpt. Tiller had shared moments ago. The U.A.F soldiers could not see her from there, but continued shooting.
Cpt. Tiller heard the heavy footsteps racing up the wooden stairs. Below, the stairs curved right about fifteen steps below, then descended to the stone slope that had replaced the stairs because of the enemy bombardment. The first man rounded the corner and Cpt. Tiller fired a volley of bullets, catching the soldier in the flack jacket and staggering him back down until he fell into the corner. Stunned, he pushed himself around the corner again, and shouted to his companion in their crisp language. The footsteps and bullets stopped then, and the wind drew a cloud over the moon, shrouding the hall in room and stairwell in darkness.
Peeking over the slab of stone, Sgt. Snyper took her weapon to her eye to see the Captain in a hazy agree glow of her scope. His heart rate was elevated, unusual for him being the professional soldier, and he seemed pale. His breathing was up, but he was alive and focused. He knew she was looking his way and signaled for her to go back to the opening in the ceiling.
They were about fifteen feet above the floor below. Splintered wood and broken marble littered the area beneath. Stained glass window fragments and busted benches remained blow, many scorched and shattered. Snyper crawled as far into the corner as she could, the rifle pressed against her right cheek as she waited. Snyper and Tiller had a relationship together that was unmatched by others in the military. Almost like a psychic connection. She knew what he was thinking, feeling and considering even when he didn’t speak.
Moving into a window, Snyper dropped out the side, slid down onto the sloped roof of the cathedral and slid about ten feet lower along the outside. From there she had a clear shot at the man closest to the bottom. Her rifle raised to her right eye, she felt the weapon hum softly against her cheek and she pulled the trigger, and a shot fired, PSST! passing through the man’s right eye, exiting his left ear and he slumped down.
Just then, a huge explosion ripped apart the upper room where Cpt. Tiller had been. The blast caused the floor to buckle and Snyper fell through, landing hard in a dried out baptism pool. Groaning from the fall, she got up and limped out of the pool over to the sloped stone. The first soldier’s blood ran in a thick red pool at the base of the stone where his body had originally fallen. The second and third lay slumped together in the corner. The third body had fallen down the steps backward and lay at the feet of the other. Above, the last man was no where in sight. Gun raised, she eased up the slope to the steps. The wood groaned the higher she got until she came to the landing and the elbow to the left. From there above her the stairs were burned from the explosion.
When she got to the top she found the bodies of her Cpt. And the unidentified U.A.F soldier in pieces scattered about and her heart sunk.

The night was deep and heavy. Thick clouds barred the face of the moon and all other visible extra-terrestrial objects. Life, as if had just ceased to exist in this mammoth ground of dead.

A tall and lanky man stood under an enormous peeple tree at a stone throwing distance from the killing field. The colour of his body was indistinguishable from the colour of the night. It looked like he took disguise by blending himself perfectly with the invincible darkness that persisted all around.
He was closely observing the proceedings of the mass crematorium, gradual transformation of the mutilated and lacerated bodies of the war into ashes.
The cremators were cursing uninterruptedly the five Pandava brothers and the Panchals aloud. But it was his name which was being cursed and condemned maximum.

‘Krishna, why, why you got all our men killed like this?’
‘Krishna, your dynasty will face the same fate one day. There will be no men left in your family to give birth of your descendants who can conduct the last rituals at the time of your own death.’
‘Krishna, you will be taken to hell after your death for what you did to us.’

Krishna was listening to every bit of what they were saying about him. His so far unmoved mind was slowly dipping into the crater of confusion.

‘Was it really needed to get so many of those people killed? What will happen to those small children who just lost their fathers? How come, the newly-wed brides will digest the premature loss of their young husbands? Who will carry the consoling warmth to those aged and ailing parents who just sacrificed their sons in the bloody war?’

Krishna had none of their answers. ‘Have I done something grossly wrong? Why my mind has become so bitterly restless?’

But whatever he did was meant to welfare of the common people. He eliminated the evil rulers of the society to bring back the good kings. He was sure that the Pandavas will establish peace and prosperity once again across the nation.

But at what price?

The evil rulers could have been assassinated the way Jarasandha and Keechak had been slain. That would have been interpreted as sheer cowardness in the land of Kshyatriya. But so what? Lives of many common soldiers and men could have been saved.

Krishna felt a sudden indomitable inertness capturing his mind and paralyzing his senses.

‘What should I do now?’ he asked to himself.

His weary limbs slowly brought him to the middle of the mass crematorium. The place, by that time was converted into real hell with the pungent smell of burnt flesh prevailing everywhere.

Krishna stood over there and looked around to see the bereaving people. They were mostly old men and women, young women and adolescent children.

He didn’t know what to do and how to respond in the mid of this dreary death land.

The air of the place became thick with smoke and ashes. It was difficult to identify people from the short distance.

They were so much engrossed to bid final good-bye to their dear ones that none of them even tried to raise a eye to identify their most hated man.

Krishna remained bereft of speech for some time. The constant cursing by his name was directly hurting his soul. His logical mind got completely blinded. He never felt so helpless and hopeless in his life before.

He wandered within the thick smoky air to touch upon all the points of flames. Many of those flames were already left out and about to die down with the corpses inside been almost transformed into ashes. He stood at the flames and begged apology to the departed souls from the core of his heart.
‘I never intended to get you killed. I wanted to give you a much better life under the most supportive and neutral administration. I aimed to give your children the best childhood and your debilitating parents the best support of the old age. Believe me, I am not a killer.’

He waited till the last flame was extinguished.

And then he left the crematorium and moved into the forest. The chirping of birds alerted his senses. He looked at the sky. The darkness was slowly taken over by the glow of light. The clouds were disappearing fast to welcome the morning.

Another new day was about to take off.

Krishna didn’t stop walking till the first ray of sunlight touched his feet. He turned around to surrender himself completely to the sun. He closed his eyes. He exposed his everything, his body mind soul, every particle of his existence to the sun……to kill the killer in him.

‘I am not a killer. I didn’t kill all those people. I only mobilized them to sacrifice their lives to get rid of the evils from their societies. Punish me if I am the guilty.’

Krishna slowly spread his arms, took a deep breath and waited to receive the punishment that was allocated for him in his destiny.

Amy had got mental disease when she was about 20 years young, since then she had lived on benefit. Then she married Mace and got Dalen, a boy with learning disability. Two years later she got Fabian, the other boy with learning disability too. Later years she did abortions when she got pregnancies because she worried to have learning disability kids again. Besides her own original benefits and she got her two kids’ various benefits and the benefits for her looking after her two kids .At last she got whopping money so she always arranged her holidays.

Amy’s friend, Carrie, a Chinese, an intelligent lady with charming and attractive figure, over 40 years, lived alone in a flat which she rent, which located next housing compound of Army’s. She was educated well and with various interesting in sports, art, dance, people, and society, international and domestic issues. She was a supply teacher for the kids with learning disabilities. Like the other tax payers, Carrie paid the rent, the council tax, the income tax, the medicine and the national insurances, which Amy didn’t pay. She was always on line to search a decent job which could pay her holiday once a year.

As Dalen’s teacher, Carrie became Amy’s friend. These two women visited each other and sometimes they had meal outside. The main topic was about Dalen and two years later, Carrie finished her supply time in Dalen’s school and she went to the other school as supply teacher. Carrie and Amy still visited each other and still talked about Dalen， but not just Dalen：
“Mace was annoying .” Amy was complained about her husband.
“What did he do made you upset?” Carrie was surprised of hearing Amy first time murmuring her husband.
“I don’t know. I saw a man, in the library yesterday, was really handsome. He is black, huge muscles, tall and strong.” Amy was excited.
“I see, you found a younger, better man so you lost interesting in Mace.”
“He and I opened our marriage for some years. Mace has no passion” Amy said.
“Mace has no muscles either.” Carrie followed Amy and smiled.
“Mace is not taller than that man.” Amy continued.
“Mace is not younger than that man.” Carrie followed.
“Mace is not as black as him.” Amy continued.
“Mace is a white and he couldn’t be black like that, unless he dyes his skin.” Carrie said..
“Mace’s junior is smaller than that man.” Amy continued.
“Sorry, I can’t follow you for I don’t know that. By the way how you know that man’s?” Carrie asked slowly.
“I guessed.” Amy answered gently
“Nice guess.” Carrie said.
“I’d like to have a date with him, but worried about he might not like me.” Amy said.
“Try him and see what’s going on.” Carrie encouraged.
“How about you come with me and we talk with him, see I can date him? But I guess he may like you when he sees you.”Amy worried.
“Probably.” Carrie laughed: “So you’d better do yourself.”
“I can see men’s eyes looking at you when we outside, that looking is strong desire of wanting you, I guess, tell me why men like the women like you?” Amy asked.
“Are you sure?” Carrie said.
“Positive, tell me then.” Amy continued: “I’d like to learn to be a woman who man likes.”
“You are the woman a man likes already, you just didn’t know.” Carrie said: “Mace is the one, he looks after you and two kids and your father as well. He does shopping, cooking, washing up, cleaning and gardening. He’s never asked your and kids’ benefits for contributing some housekeeping money, so you could have lot of money doing whatever you want, such as holidays.” Carrie analyzed.
“That true, he did and does all sort of things for me, me kids and me Dad, but that is not love. Love is passion, is nomadic is something which we don’t know what that is.” Amy said.
“I see.” Carrie said:” I prefer love is something we know.” Carrie said.
“I like you sense of humor. Carrie, you are educated well, charming with great personality and experience, why not try to get a good pay job, such as manager, university lecturer or a government officer?”
“I’m still trying, each year I sent thousands of applications to various jobs openings which closes my background, in our town, the towns near us, the towns and cities far from us, the countries we heard and the countries we haven’t heard yet, but I’ve not got success so far.” Carrie told Amy.
“Its shame isn’t it? In this country, two kinds of people live well, one is on benefits, same as me; one is on good job positions, such as managers, doctors, solicitors, celebrates and politicians, work less hours and good pay. Why not apply benefit, which you can get free everything, meanwhile you can still to apply for a good job?” Amy asked.
“I applied benefit, but the system looked didn’t not work for me. Two year ago, I applied low income benefit and I declined for my ex had got half wealth of the house which his ex still lives there, which I have no any connection within. So I have to work hard for the small and temporary job I’ve got and same time I have to hunt a new job.” Carrie said.
“You are beautiful and charming, to get a rich man to marry and you don’t need a job.”
“Sounds great, but I haven’t met the rich men who could feed their families and wives, although they told me that they could, in the practice, they couldn’t.” Carrie said peacefully:”
To be honest, who can guarantee the marriage and there are lots of uncertain between the couples and the uncertain in the society as well.”
“That’s true. Forget the rich man, how about to be a rich and powerful woman?” Amy said.
“Yes.” Carrie was interested in.
“I want to be a women Bishop for the Church of England, I heard that the Church of England allows women Bishop. I became a church lady last year and I have learned lot of things from the Bible. First I will encourage Dalen to join the church, then Fabian. I asked Dalen to go to church with me, and he was happy and I’ve not asked Fabian yet, he is in violence sometimes.” Amy said: “I wish my family all church members, if I was a women Bishop. I know my Dad would not be happy going to the church, but he would go with me, if he knew that his going could help my dream to be true.”
“That’s true, parents love children without any conditions.” Carrie said and her mind: Amy was are quite lucky and she got whatever in her life, now suddenly she wanted to be a Bishop, so she worked to that way, no any problem. But myself was different, I must struggle for survival.

Two weeks later, Amy visited Carrie and told her that she met another man in the swimming pool.
“He is safe guard, handsome, young, and charming with blue eyes. I love his French accent speak English, very nice.” Amy showed her interesting: “I’d like to kiss him; his lips are soft and gentle.”
“Did you say anything to him?” Carrie asked.
“No, I just sparked my eyes to him and hoped he got my message.”
“Did he get?” Carrie asked.
“I don’t think so. I saw he had sexy eyes to the other hot ladies.” Amy showed what the safe guard did.
“Why not say ‘hi’ to him, later more ?”
“ I said’ Hi’, but later nothing, because his eyes are on beauties, never on me.”
“I see, forget him, you will have your man.” Carrie said: “How’s the application of women Bishop going on?”
“The Church of England said that I couldn’t apply for this position because I am on incapacity benefit, which I guessed they thought I have mental disorder. Anyway I’ve lost interesting in to be a Bishop and now I just want to get a man.” Amy put her finger to touch her lips.
“Don’t’ do that to me, to that handsome safe guard: “Carrie teased Amy: “I am going to have bath to the swimming pool anytime now, do you want to join me?”
“Of cause.”
The two women went to the pool and they were told that the safe guard was a student and left the UK yesterday.
“It’s pity.”Carrie and Amy had no any motivation for swimming.

Carrie was still in her job hunting and Amy was still her man hunting.
The tragedy was Carrie still couldn’t get a good pay job and Amy still couldn’t get a man who liked her.
One day Amy and Carrie visited a big house, which demonstrated this family’s history, the process of development and the heady. They met some visitors and foreigners as well; they were writers, business people, government officers, workers and house wives. Carrie and Amy had great talk with them: they talked about the English history, the politic, the economy, the people, the culture, the need for majority people, the various and individuals.
“You should be a person governed your people, not just a supply teacher.” A visitor said to Carrie:” You should know you got not only the knowledge of your culture, the talent of governing and the personality but also the serving heart. You should try to this way.”
“Really? I never wanted to dominate anyone, I love people and I can do anything for people.” Carrie said.
“That’s the reason you can do that job.” The other visitor said.
“How about me, can I be a MP?” Amy asked.
“It’s difficult to say, generally speaking you can.”
“How about narrowly speaking?” Amy continued.
“You have lots of great personalities, but I don’t want to offend you that you are not patient and not
tenacious and resilient enough to get along with people sometimes.”
“You are right, my mental illness made me angry easily most of times. I know I am not good for that kind of job, to be honest I’ve never been working in my life time so far.” Amy said.

On the way home Carrie and Amy went to a Chinese restaurant to have meal.
“This is my first time to have Chinese food, really good.” Amy said:” I will come to Chinese restaurant often later.”
Carrie was pleased her friend liking Chinese food: “We can come here some time and also I can cook some for us when you come to my place.”

The days and nights came and gone as usual and Carrie and Amy did their routine things as usual: Carrie did her temporary supply teaching job, at same time she searched her decent job; Amy arranged her holidays, at same time to find her man.

Suddenly, there was a reelection of a new MP for Swam Town, Carrie wanted to try it and she told Amy her idea and Amy encouraged her to get that position. Carrie stopped her decent job hunting and spent her time to know what were the problems of this town, what people‘s needs. She did various voluntary jobs and organized different meetings, to know people and let people to know her and her political policy and her ability of governing. Carrie told Amy her opinions from her strategic planning to the process of wining the election and sometimes Amy joined Carrie’s activities as well.

Later Amy told Carrie that she would go to France for holiday a while. Carrie felt a bit pity that her best friend was not with her in her election time, anyway Carrie got her supporters. People liked Carrie’s political policy and more and more people came to Carrie’s and Carrie’s people was more than the other candidates.

The election day was around corner, Carrie was surprised Amy became one of the candidates, and Amy’s political policy was Carrie’s. Amy’s election activities were her political policy with ice cream, the people of Swam Town went to Amy included Carrie’s supporters. Carrie persuaded her people to stay with her and told them that she would win the campaign
“Amy’s policy is much better than yours and we should support the best one.” The supporters said.
“That policy is mine, not hers.” Carrie said.
“We don’t care whose policy, but the policy with ice cream is better.” They said.

Amy won the election at last.
Amy’s life style changed immediately: beautiful pay, various allowances, a free car, a free chauffeur and a free house in London and free holidays.
Carrie was still a supply teacher in Swam Town and still searched a decent job on line.
They were still friends and Amy always called Carrie and asked her how to deal with the issues of her job, and Carrie always guided her to be as a MP.
“

His now ex-girlfriend had graciously decided to make it easier on him by moving out earlier that day while he was in work and was now staying with a “friend” They had been together for three year and he loved her very much and hadn’t once taught that they were in trouble. He spent that night looking at the ceiling wondering what, why and who and was there anything that he could have done. It wasn’t until the next day when he had gotten up to get breakfast that he noticed that his goldfish was gone. Looking at the empty space on the window still, this was when it truly hit home with him that Claire had left “That bitch, how could she take Starbuck?” To Declan, this revealed how little she must had taught of him. “I mean what kind of woman takes a man’s fish”

He travelled home to visit his family for the weekend and was looking forward to catching with everyone at home, and his mother’s Sunday dinner. As he walked in the door he was greeted by his mother and younger brother. “No Claire with you this weekend Declan” as his mother said this she could see his face charge and she knew straight away. He explained what had happen the previous weekend, his mother was furious and seemed more upset then he was. “Don’t you be hiding yourself away, you’ll need to pick yourself up, she wasn’t right for you away.”

After recent events he continued with his daily routine and tried to keep his mind from dwelling. He had taken the break up well and was adjusting to the single life better than he had first expected. After his shifts from work he would sometimes walk down by the river as he wasn’t accustomed to going home to an empty apartment. He preferred it at night, when the hustle and bustle noise from the town was gone, you could clearly hear the sound of the water flowing along the banks and lightly cascading over rocks. The glowing lights and reflection on the moon danced hypnotically on the rippling water’s surface. He would sit on a bench by the river, and watch the swans and ducks bobbing on the water as he sipped on a coffee from the later night take away from the centre of town. It wasn’t the best in the world but it was hot and strong.

Declan had been walking by the river most nights after work for nearly two weeks now. He knew most of the regular walkers and runners to see as they passed and he would give a nod or say “Howya” As the days grew shorter and the night got longer there were less and less people around and some nights depending on how on the length of his shift he won’t see anyone. One night sitting on steps near the walkway by the river as he drank is coffee and was checking is email in his phone. He could hear the swans hissing as they do to warn you away. When you hear this you would usually move as they will bite. At first he taught he was hearing things, then he could hear voices shouting, they sounded Eastern European, but he couldn’t be sure. He started to walk towards the noise inquisitively. There was a van with its back door open and two men shockingly trying to grab a swan. Instinctively Declan shouted “Hay, what the hell do you think you doing” the two men ignored him. “Leave that Swan alone” by now he was only a hundred meters or so away from them. The two men stopped and stood looking at Declan. The swan it seemed had tangled itself on something near a bush and Declan headed straight for it to try free it. As he did one of the men shouted something at him. Declan bent down to try pulled on a branch of the bush to free the Swan; it raised its head hissing. He ready himself to take the bite that the swan would surely lash out with, when he heard one of the men right behind him “Mind your business, get lost” Declan replied quickly “You clear off or I’ll have the Gardas down here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” The sound of a car approaching and lights came from behind them as one of the man kicked Declan in the stomach followed by a heavy blow to the side of his face. As he fell to the ground he received another knockout blow for his troubles as the two men quickly jumped back into their van and drove away.
Declan on semiconscious but could hear someone “Wake up, wake up” a soft gentle females voice repeated, he tried to open his eyes but his vision as blurred and his eyelids only raised slightly, just enough to see a bright silhouette of a figure with long hair leaning over him. Everything went black again for a minute and when regained conscious fully there was a male Garda shacking him. “Ah, your alive” the Garda said jokingly. “You ok, you look like you had had a going over”

Declan: “Yes Garda, I think so, just a little sore”

Garda: “Good can you get up? We got a call off some noise and taught some kids where down here drinking. What happened?”

As Declan proceeded to tell the Garda what had happened he noticed that the Swan was still near even though it was freed from the bush that held it captive. He asked the Garda was there anyone else around when he found him, that he taught he heard a woman voice. “No one that I saw anyway; lets head back up to the car and I get you home”

He had taken a beating but he felt enormously proud of saving the Swan. He was sore but tiered sleep came easy for him that night. He awoke from a dream only remembering hearing that woman’s whispered voice from the river “Wake up” and pictured a silhouette of a woman standing over him. He sat up quickly in his bed and realized that it was just a dream.

He had gone to work where his black eye was his battle scar from the previous night. During break he and his work mates discussed what had happen. Some of the guys he worked with were from all over Europe. They told him that they had heard of this happening in Ireland and England and explained the some counties people still ate swan meat. The Irish workers were shocked to hear this and were horrified to think that people would eat a swan.

That night he finished work and felt compelled to go down to the river. He picked up his ritualistic cup of not the world’s greatest coffee and stood on the steps leading down to the river walkway. It was already dark and the cold air had brought a mist up from the river that moved with an eerie silence. The river was still and made little noise. Declan went down and sat on one of the benches. He surveyed the area to see if he could locate any of the swans, but there was no sign. Ah couple out for a walk pass him and the man raised his walking stick and nodded his head as a greeting and his partner smiled and said “Hay how are ya” Declan lifted one hand as a half wave and said “Evening” They had passed and the park was empty again except for the mist, Declan and his coffee.

In silence he sat lamenting over the events of the night before, when a light splashing sound broke the silence; it came from a little further down the river, then all was quite. He taught to himself “it must be one of the swans or ducks” but could not see too far with the mist. He stood up to put his now empty paper cup from his coffee into the bin and could make out a figure in the mist coming towards him. A young woman dressed in a long flowing white dress and long golden hair walking gracefully along the path. She stopped at the opposite end of the bench.

She smiled at him and spoke softly “You are ok, that is good to see. I feared that you might have been badly injured”

Declan instantly recognised the voice “It was you! You were here last night”
Smiling as she bowed her she replied “Yes that was me, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. I am Branwen, and you are?”

Captivated and almost speechless he replied “Declan. I’m Declan”
Branwen: “Pleased to meet you Declan, It was very brave of you to intervene last night”
Declan: “Brave! Ha, I wouldn’t say that, but I couldn’t just stand there and watch that happen”

Branwen: “Well if you had not, we never would have met, so thank you”
They sat together for some time on the bench and both became very fond of his of each other’s company. It was getting was late and the witching hour (mid night) was only minutes away. Branwen kiss Declan on the cheek and explained that she had to go, but would love to meet him again tomorrow night if he could. His cheeks went red and smiled, “of course, I would love to” he said. Branwen turned and hurried off back into the misty night and all went quite. Declan left to return home as he did again he could hear a light splashing sound form the river in the same direction Branwen had left, again he taught to himself “It must be a swan” That nigh he dreamt as he slept of being by the river and Branwen in her white dress sitting on the bench calling him, “come back to me, down to the river we’ll stay” as a wedge od swans flew over heads along the river.

Declan went to work the following day but his mind was clearly elsewhere. He could only think of one thing. Excitedly he anticipated his rendezvous later that night. As he walked down the steps to the river he noticed that there was a mist on the river once more. He saw no sign of Branwen so he sat and waited, time went by and the walkway seemed empty. A figure of a swan in the mist floated past on the river. Then there was light splashing sound as before and he turned, out of the mist in brilliant white walked Branwen. Declan’s eye lit up as he walked towards her. She raised one hand in front of her offering it to Declan; he held it and they walked back into the mist. There was a small flash of white light and splashing from the water’s edge. Two swans now floated side by side down the river.

I can’t remember the last time I saw Maria Kanellis. It’s been almost a year at that. We meet in kindergarden. And since then we’ve been best friends. But these last few years have been rough. Me and her barely talk. It seems we have grown apart. When we do text it’s never about much. I miss the old days. Back then we would pull nighters and text all day. Sometimes when I wanted to hear her voice, I’d call her. Although, there would be awkward silences just to hear her laugh would make me blush. But now when I try to contact her all I feel from her cold vibe is hatred. I can’t blame her. I’ve hurt her so many times. And she never deserved it. And I’ll admit for doing that I’m wrong. I’m a disgusting human being. What still shocks me is the fact that somehow she is still around. Normally when someone gets hurt as much as she has they’d tap out in a submission. But Maria, she is different. All that time I spend with Jade and Stephen was a waste. Don’t get me wrong me and Jade are still friends. However, we secretly hate eachother and sometimes it does show. But me and Stephen….It’s better if we keep our distance from eachother. I feel terrible. I’m the reason why she is going back home and probably never coming back. Back then we used to talk about what we wanted to be when we get older. And when the moment was right, I could feel her hand held on to mine. I know I never bothered to notice it, but for that minute my hand held hers. On a rare day we would have to heart conversations. She said she wanted to be a model and a wrestling Diva. I wanted to be a musician and an actress. We are exactly getting to where we want to be, but this time it’s without her. I know she doesn’t want to see because she made it as clear as possible, before we stopped talking. And now on the slap she said she is going back home. All I’ve done so far is reflect on me and her. Oh and I cried. But this time around I will win her over. I’ll be victorious. I screwed up, but I can fix it.

Once Tori checks the time it’s 3:30. She runs downstaors to put her shoes on and drives to the airport. Once she arrives at the airport, she checks to see what time Maria’s flight leaves. She arrives at 4:00. Maria’s flight is at Gate B. Her flight leaves at 4:45 pm. Tori scrambles around to find Maria. Once she finds her she shouts “Maria! Maria!”. She lets lets out a sigh and says”She has her headphones on. Shit.” Tori shouts her name again “Maria! Maria!”. Once Maria heard someone say her name she puts her headphones into the pocket of her jacket and turns around, to see Tori as she walks up to Maria.

“Oh. It’s you. what do you want?”.

“I have to talk to you”.

“Right now? We haven’t spoke in almost a year and you want to talk now?”

“I know and I’m sorry, but please, maria. Just please listen to me”.

“I think I’ve listened to you a lot over these past few years. What’s so different about you now?”.

“I know what I did was wrong and you probably won’t forgive me for it, and all the apologies in the world won’t do it but I know realized something.”

“What have you realized? That I actually exist now? Or am I still the person you pushed aside for someone else?”.

“You knew I had a boyfriend!”.

“And you knew I loved you! But you never bothered to pay any attention to me, or lay eyes on me because when I tried to tell you, you put me in a corner of rejection, because you were too busy fucking your boyfriend! I’m going back home. I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore and continue to get hurt by you. I deserve better, Tori. But it’s obvious you don’t care about me anymore”.

“I always cared about you, but I was scared. I had a good thing going with Jade and with Stephen, but I realized that they weren’t you. I never stopped thinking about you. Just because I’ve hurt you so many times, doesn’t mean that I stopped caring about you”.

” why were you so scared? Why did you push me away?”.

“I did it because back then I was being stupid and I held back all my feelings for you because of what others would say. I pushed away the only girl I fell in love with since we first met. But now you’re going back home. And I wish you could stay with me. I know I won’t get a second chance with us, But I will chase you for all eternity. I will do whatever it takes to make this right again. I want to be with you. I’ve let you go from my life and I regret it. But I have never let you go from my heart. Comeback into my life darling. I love you more than anything in this world. And I promise to never push you away or leave you. Your my world. Your my everything. So please. Let’s make this about us”.

Maria walks up to Tori and as she puts her bags down, she kisses Tori slowly and says”That’s all I’ve been wanting to hear from you”.

The winter chill like a thief crept through the frosty window to summon drops of condensation. The train’s rhythmic vibrations born in small cracks along the railroad gradually tempted my eyelids to roll down and seal shut my exhausted mind like the heavy rock that stands before Aladdin’s magic cave. My trance like existence was interrupted when the railroad went into a smooth westward bank, the white winter sunlight blinded my eyes and softly draped over my body like a warm blanket. The brakes screeched. Trees, colorful graffiti walls, and telephone wires slowed down to a moment in time until a complete stop at a small remote station lodged on the German-French border.

A beautiful red-haired girl boarded the train and made her way to where I was sitting. The locomotive engineer wasted no time and quickly picked up the speed as the girl struggled to remove the outer layers of her winter clothing. A gentle perfume overpowered the stale air in the cabin. I showed her no sign of acknowledgement when she chose to sit next to me ignoring several perfectly unused seats. I insisted on maintaining my sight onto the mesmerizing fast-pacing horizon. Suddenly, I was rudely disturbed when she dropped a pencil underneath my seat. As any gentleman would, I reached for the pencil and grabbed it firmly. As I was making my way up from underneath the seat, the red-haired girl and I lightly bumped into each other. The goofy accident had us laughing and jokingly dramatizing the collision again and again. She rubbed her blushed nose, spoke to me in French and paused for my response. She had asked who I was and where I was going, but I hesitated answering. She flipped her hair with an ease like swirling autumn leaves across the pavement of Champs-Élysées and glanced back at me with her emerald green eyes widen like the lenses of a sea captain’s binocular. I said nothing back to her and simply leaned back in my seat. She unexpectedly put her index finger onto my lips and swiftly grabbed my earbuds from under my newspaper. She plugged the brass jack in her iPod. At this point I had been disarmed of my resistance and felt frozen and bewitched like an ice-cube drowned in Irish whiskey. The French girl placed one of the earbuds in her ear and prompted me with a candid excitement to put the other in my ear. “Melody and rhythm are internationally understood,” she exclaimed with a drop of pure excitement in her voice. She closed her eyes and spun the wheel of the tiny pink iPod and played a random song from the playlist. The song began with the volume set too high and it was unbearable. “It’s too loud”, I yelled. She covered her silenced laughter with her porcelain hands pressing against her blushing freckled strawberry red face and her sea-green eyes smiled wide. She turned the volume down and gave me a quick kiss on my scruffy cheek. Within the first notes of the track, I knew the song and the band which was playing. It was titled Arizona and performed by The Kings of Leon. “Fantastic song,” I said while pointing at the tiny bright screen, but she ignored my remark. “Chanson fantastique”, I repeated and turned my head back to the window with sense of disappointment. She moved closer to me and then she moved even closer. Her breasts brushed against the fabric of my coat. Her warm breath kissed my ear with each beat of my heart. I slightly raised my eyes into the ample azure sky only to find an airplane piercing the winter clouds and painting two stretches of thin icy-white trails. As I was following this captivating moment and contemplating on the plane’s trajectory, the first song ended and another one began. This second song though was a soft tune unfamiliar to me and yet my stomach, my heart and my soul were telling me otherwise.

“Katherine, kiss me
Slip your little lips will split me
Split me away, your eye won’t hit me
Yes, I love you, I mean,
I I’d love to get to know you.”

The song like a rusty key slowly unlocked my lips into a dreamy smile and my eyes filled up with little drops of happy sadness. I kept the tears from raining down my face and let the lyrics wonder in my mind. The red-haired girl softly turned away towards the narrow passageway where an elderly man was helping his wife to put away their luggage. The woman rested on the bench and lovingly hugged her husband. He gently brushed her hair and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. The red-haired girl leaned on my right arm, sighed in adoration, and briefly moved around like a seasoned traveler rolling her body on the cold white sheets of a hotel bed before closing her eyes to the world. In the silence I could sense a young girl’s mind slipping away into a dream.

My body also gave away to the monotonous sounds of the train tadak-tadak… tadak-tadak. A tiny girl, wearing tiny ripped jeans, with tiny dreams was resting her daily troubles on my shoulder. My eyes awakened but she was gone the way blinding morning fog suddenly withdrawals its conquered kingdom to the warm air of the rising day, the way love hurts so much and suddenly hurts no more. The red-haired traveler left me with no name, no past, no future, only a little glossy corner of a flashy fashion magazine with two words written in the most elegant handwriting I had ever seen. “au revoir.”

Now, we’re at the dinner before the big day. Everybody is here and the dining hall is absolutely stunning. I get up from my table to go talk to her.
She’s talking to her grandmother. She’s also a sweet lady.
“Hello beautifuls,” I said to the both of them.

“Hey! I was just wondering when I was going to see you tonight,” she said.

“Well you got your wish.”

“I guess I did.”

“Hey, do you think I could talk to you about something for a minute?”

“Yeah sure, handsome.”

I grinned. It’s the little things she says that get me going.

“Meet me in the hallway then?” I asked.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Take your time.”

The walk to the hallway was the longest walk of my life. All the things I wanted to say, everything I had planned, was clashing all together in my head. I reach the hallway and everything, still, is running wild in my head. Words are mixing together; the lines I had planned are now thoughts similar to dyslexic sentences. I felt overwhelmed. I wanted to back out of telling her how I felt, and I almost did. That is in till I remembered something.

I love this girl.

I really do.

I love her face, her voice, her personality, and everything else about her. And the memories, they calm me.

Now all of my thoughts, everything I had planned to say, fit together perfectly like a two piece puzzle. I felt confident in my words. And I was ready to tell her how I felt.

Then she made it to the hallway.

I became nervous again, but I believe it was a good nervous. It was an excited nervous. I was calm and excited at the same time. And as she walks up to me, I remember every little thing her and I did together.

The movie nights,

The dinners,

The late night conversations,

The drinks,

And even the dancing.

And then she approached me and asks,

“So what’s on your mind?”

“A lot, actually.”

“Well speak!”

“I’m not a dog, you know! Haha.”

“Could’ve fooled me! ”

That smile. Hmm.

“:]”

“So what is it?”

“Okay…”

“Okay? This must be serious.”

“It is…”

“Well… what is it?”

“I have something to get off my chest.”

“Yeah…”

“I… love you.”

“Oh my God! Is that it? You’re-that’s stupid, I love you too! You should already know that!”

I thought about backing out now. But I’ve gone too far now, and besides she’s a smart girl. If I back out now, she’ll eventually figure out the meaning behind all of this, so I continued to tell her how I felt.

“No, I mean like, I love you, love you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. I know this isn’t the best time to say this but I felt like it
had to be said.”

“Um… yeah, Uh- I, I’m glad you did. Stuff like that shouldn’t be bottled up.”

I know at this very moment that it was a bad idea to tell her so I did what any other man would try to do, I tried to fix the situation.

“Ah, dangit! I’m sorry that I even brought this up. Just forget I even said anything.”

Nice strategy. Telling her to forget that one of her best friends confessing his undying love for her, the night before her wedding. Smooth, like gravel.

“No, this is, I don’t know. I can’t, but I…” she said, stumbling over her words.

“Please, just forget this ever happened. I’m incredibly sorry for causing any confusing emotions.”

“I mean like, I…. love you too, but I…, I’m…”

“It’s okay. Don’t even worry about it. You’re getting married. You deserve to be happy.”

“But so do you.”

“Not everybody can be happy.”

“But…”

“But nothing.”

Or never, which I chose. I don’t tell her a thing. She gets married with her husband and lives her happy life. And I’m “happy” not causing any emotional stress or any confusing thoughts. There’s no long walk to the hallway, no nervous breakdowns, just a man living a life of excitement inducing memories and what-ifs. And with her and her husband and me with me memories and what-ifs, I can continue to live my life, lying, to myself to content saying,

“Things are better off this way.”