I felt that if I didn't post anything about this event, I would regret it later on. As I have not seen the wedding, am not seeing the wedding, and don't plan on watching this "modern fairy tale unfold", I decided I would blog about everything else that encompasses said wedding.
First of all, has anyone heard about how Lily Allen is bloody pissed that she didn't get an invite. Lily Allen is most known for her troubled life then her music career. The woman is a great singer but she is as vile and raunchy as any hard rockers out there who lived a life of turmoil. Now, when you know those two tid bits of info, do you really wonder why our most elegant Queen has not invited Lily Allen to attend the prestigious ceremony? Seriously, fuck off Allen and go bother people who actually give a shit about your declining music career. (It doesn't have much to fall down from, rest assured folks, she will recover and then become a sucessful ice cream eater.)
Secondly, am I the only who is irked at all the side merchandise that is being shovelled off the wagons lately. And then one wonders: what will they do with all this money? I know the Royal Family is really "big" on donating money (for tax reasons, no doubt) but how shameful of them to authorize the production of condoms with the photo of the Royal Couple and the very suggestive title: Protect your family jewels. Funny, yet tasteless when it comes to representing the one true family that really brings the people of Earth togheter. If you haven't noticed the sarcasm, you must be British.
To finish this rant with style, its that people stopped giving a damn when the best thing to ever happen to the Royal Family was taken away by death. The masses that followed the everyday blessings of Diana turned a blind eye to the family except for the rare time they would appear in western newspapers because of scandals. Scandals have brought our attention back to the Family time and time again.
So the main reason to avoid this so-called "Event of the Millenium" is because it'll end up, inevitably, in a scandal. The British Royal Family does what Royal Families do best: scandalize. They lost our attention, our sympathy, our dedication to causes supported by the Royals of England. If they thought a wedding would work into getting the world back in the pockets of Queen Lizzy, they thought right. People, from all over the world, are tuning in for the "most talked-about event of the century," "the modern fairy-tale brought to life", "the event you don't wanna miss" (do you hear Ryan Seacrest too?).
So in who's pocket are we exactly? The Queen or the media?
Candles are out,
Elevens Ink
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Friday the 13th: Alternate Ending (Part 2)
Alternate Ending (Part 2)
You Shouldn't have Done That
Yasmina was shaking in the corner, unable to grasp the situation that was unfolding in front of her. Her mind tried to block out the last image of Sarah but it kept forcing itself back in her cloudy thoughts. Jodi and Patrick were arguing by the door, their voices too low and the thunder too loud for Yasmina to understand a word they were saying.
She tried to move closer but Jodi raised her machete, pointing the tip in Yasmina's direction.
"No, no, no. You do not move, you filthy cow. How dare you? HOW DARE YOU?" Jodi began screaming and walked up towards Yasmina. Jodi pulled the crying girl's hair back and spat in her face. If anything, Jodi was more fucked up then her brother.
"You're lucky I don't cut your throat where you stand, whore!" Jodi continued, releasing the girl's hair and shoving her further into the corner.
Patrick couldn't help but to look over at his -girlfriend, he supposed- and feel sorry for her. She had put herself in this predicament. She could have avoided this, if only she had shown change. Patrick had been ready to ignore Mother and forgive Yasmina, let her into his circle.
"Patrick...please," Yasmina begged; she looked like a scared child, curled up into a ball and shivering in the dark corner of the cabin.
"His name is Jason," Jodi spat out, looking over at her brother. "Are we going to do this or what?"
Do it boy. Kill her for mommy. Destroy the filth, boy.
"Jason! Are you going to finish this cunt or shall I?" Jodi urged on, impatient and anxious.
Yasmina couldn't stop herself from shaking. Her muscles were tense and her nerves shot straight into a frenzy. Tears were useless, she had cried the last one a half hour ago. She summoned the courage to look up and noticed Patrick was in a daze. Jodi was standing in front of him, her blonde hair plastered to her face, which was twisted in anger.
Neither of them was paying any attention to her.
Yasmina shot off the floor, grabbed the kerosene lamp on the wooden table and with all the might in her body, she swung it across Jodi's face. The glass shattered into her skin and the fire inside burned the tip of her nose. Jodi shrieked and dropped her machete to the ground, preferring to craddle her face with her hands.
Patrick zoned back to reality. His sister was staggering across the kitchen, hysterically shouting. Her face was severely cut open. Yasmina was bending down to pick up the machete.
She raised the machete high over her head.
"Fuck you, you twisted bitch!" Yasmina screamed, stabbing Jodi right in the middle of the chest. Blood was spraying out of the wound, covering our protagonist in red. She pulled out the machete and Jodi stumbled against the counter and then collapsed on the floor.
Silence invaded the tight space. Yasmina turned around. The room was spinning around her but she spotted Patrick by the sofa. He had slipped the hockey mask back on and gripped his machete, intent on using it right about now.
"You shouldn't have done that" Patrick said as he advanced menacingly towards his girlfriend.
You Shouldn't have Done That
Yasmina was shaking in the corner, unable to grasp the situation that was unfolding in front of her. Her mind tried to block out the last image of Sarah but it kept forcing itself back in her cloudy thoughts. Jodi and Patrick were arguing by the door, their voices too low and the thunder too loud for Yasmina to understand a word they were saying.
She tried to move closer but Jodi raised her machete, pointing the tip in Yasmina's direction.
"No, no, no. You do not move, you filthy cow. How dare you? HOW DARE YOU?" Jodi began screaming and walked up towards Yasmina. Jodi pulled the crying girl's hair back and spat in her face. If anything, Jodi was more fucked up then her brother.
"You're lucky I don't cut your throat where you stand, whore!" Jodi continued, releasing the girl's hair and shoving her further into the corner.
Patrick couldn't help but to look over at his -girlfriend, he supposed- and feel sorry for her. She had put herself in this predicament. She could have avoided this, if only she had shown change. Patrick had been ready to ignore Mother and forgive Yasmina, let her into his circle.
"Patrick...please," Yasmina begged; she looked like a scared child, curled up into a ball and shivering in the dark corner of the cabin.
"His name is Jason," Jodi spat out, looking over at her brother. "Are we going to do this or what?"
Do it boy. Kill her for mommy. Destroy the filth, boy.
"Jason! Are you going to finish this cunt or shall I?" Jodi urged on, impatient and anxious.
Yasmina couldn't stop herself from shaking. Her muscles were tense and her nerves shot straight into a frenzy. Tears were useless, she had cried the last one a half hour ago. She summoned the courage to look up and noticed Patrick was in a daze. Jodi was standing in front of him, her blonde hair plastered to her face, which was twisted in anger.
Neither of them was paying any attention to her.
Yasmina shot off the floor, grabbed the kerosene lamp on the wooden table and with all the might in her body, she swung it across Jodi's face. The glass shattered into her skin and the fire inside burned the tip of her nose. Jodi shrieked and dropped her machete to the ground, preferring to craddle her face with her hands.
Patrick zoned back to reality. His sister was staggering across the kitchen, hysterically shouting. Her face was severely cut open. Yasmina was bending down to pick up the machete.
She raised the machete high over her head.
"Fuck you, you twisted bitch!" Yasmina screamed, stabbing Jodi right in the middle of the chest. Blood was spraying out of the wound, covering our protagonist in red. She pulled out the machete and Jodi stumbled against the counter and then collapsed on the floor.
Silence invaded the tight space. Yasmina turned around. The room was spinning around her but she spotted Patrick by the sofa. He had slipped the hockey mask back on and gripped his machete, intent on using it right about now.
"You shouldn't have done that" Patrick said as he advanced menacingly towards his girlfriend.
Fish and Rice - Easy Supper 1
Hey all!
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| Fried rice topped with haddock. Hot sauce to taste. |
I decided I would share some of my recipes with y'all! It's not really a recipe since I don't measure anything and you can easily mix-and-match the ingredients or turn the dish into your own. It's more to show how easy a supper can be when you use ingredients you like. Often times when people want to cut some stuff out or improve their diet, they stock up on everything imagineable, even though some of the stuff is not a regular eat. So here goes, and don't hesitate to play with the ingredients and add spices that you like!
Ingredients:
Wild rice + long grain OR Basmati rice OR any grain you want (couscous, quinoa, etc...)
Mixed veggies that you like (carrots, peas, onion, celery, corn, etc...)
Garlic
1 half-stick cinnamon
Indian Masala
Cardamon Pods
Panko bread crumbs
Curry Powder
Blue Water Classic Gril Haddock Filets (or any fish filet you like)
Cooking Instructions:
Preheat ovean according to BlueWater instructions.
Prepare your water for your rice or grain, according to instructions on chosen grain, with half a stick of cinnamon and 10 cardamon pods. (I suggest you put them in a tea strainer OR tie them up. You don't want to eat these, simply want to flavour your rice)
When water is boiled, removed cinnamon stick while leaving in your cardamon pods. Put in your rice, cover and let simmer according to instructions.
Start by cooking your onions and garlic. I like to spice my dish in stages so that the flavours built up and each bite has a somewhat different taste, especially when eating stir frys, where it can get repetitive. So during the onion/garlic stage, this is where I would add my curry powder. To taste.
Ok so now you can pop the fish in so it can finish at the same time as the rest. Take your filets out early so they have time to thaw just a little. Add your Panko to one side of the fish. You can zest up your panko crumbs by adding spices to it, but the Classic Gril Haddock is already well dressed. Don't make him flamboyant!
Add the remaining veggies to your onion&garlic mixture. I prefer the macedonian mix and rarely use anything but onions, garlic, carrots, and celery as fresh veggies in a stiry fry, as I prefer to keep my fresh veggies for salads. Don't be afraid to go with the frozen veggies, as they tend to keep in the vitamins more then canned and even some fresh veggies depending on what time of year you are buying them.
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To that, you can add some Indian Masala, Steak Spices, Salt & Pepper. |
So it's time for the combination. Remove the cardamon pods from your rice; don't forget, they taste nasty in the mouth. It's important to keep just a bit of water from your rice to moisten up all the ingredients and combine the spices. Nothing combines better then starchy water!
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| starting to smell fantastic! |
Once your rice is completly cooked, turn off the heat and let stand for a few minutes. Remove fish from oven and equally let it chillout on the counter a while. Food is best served after resting, whether it be meat or not. Give it time to meet the other players and let the spices mingle. Miam!
So now that the social network is over, scoop some rice on a plate, slide a fish filet over it and begin to enjoy the wonderful tastes of Indian Spices, simply seasoned fish with Panko and the comforting, crunchy taste of stir-fried rice.
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Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Friday the 13th: Alternate Ending (Part 1)
Alternate Ending (Part 1)
Time for the Final Act, Bitch
Time for the Final Act, Bitch
Yasmina was holding on tightly to Sarah's hand, almost to the point of cutting bloodflow to the other girl's extremity. The masked man stood motionless in the doorframe as rain and lightning streaked the background. His breathing was hollow and almost calculated. Sarah got lost in his inhaling and exhaling; it seemed so precise as if he counted seconds before each breath and each release. Whoever this man was, he was the perfect description of a sociopath.
He took one step forward and it was enough to shoot both girls into a panic state of mind. They ran towards the window and Yasmina struggled to heave the glass pane open. She finally slid the window up and helped Sarah to evacuate the cabin. Jason was getting closer to them with every step and Sarah had difficulty exiting the small window. Something was wrong. She fumbled around and then fell to the ground outside. Her shirt had been caught in a nail and now it hung off the ledge, ripped and thorn while Sarah remained still on the beach, her white sportsbra glowing in the nightscape.
Yasmina looked back and saw that Jason stood still by the table and he was staring at her. She couldn't see his eyes through the darkness of the night, but the candlelights and lanterns were enough for her to see the evil that lived inside them. She turned around to jump out of the window when she spotted another masked stranger behind Sarah. Same clothes, same mask, different body proportions. This one was much smaller then the man inside the cabin. Yasmina panicked.
"SARAH BEHIND YOU!" She screamed, attempting to jump out of the window.
She struggled with the tightness of the hole and couldn't jump in time. The masked stranger had already reached Sarah.
Sarah got to her feet and brushed the sand that had accumulated between her thighs. She looked up at Yasmina who was trying to jump out of the window but she too had difficulty squeezing through the tight space.
"Come on!" Sarah whispered, trying to hurry time up if only possible. She was just about ready to run around to the door and confront the stranger that scared them. She hadn't grasped the seriousness of the issue. This man was ready to kill them if need be.
She noticed Yasmina retreating back inside the cabin and then suddenly reappearing again, this time panic smeared her facial expressions and she pointed past her, past the treeline.
"SARAH BEHIND YOU!" Yasmina screamed as she tried desperatly to jump out of the window.
Sarah spun around just in time to see a similar masked-stranger running straight towards her with a machete in hands. She barely had time to react. She jumped to the side and her attacker ran right past her, almost knocking itself out on the cabin's solid oak walls.
"What the fuck!" Sarah screamed, trying to run towards the main lodge but it proved pointless. Her ankle must have snapped when she jumped from the window. She fell in the sand and turned around to face the sky, high above her. The stars suddenly dissapeared and soon they were replaced with that of a hockey mask and a cloaked figure.
"What do you want from us?" Sarah screamed, trying to kick and scratch the hooded figure that loomed over her like Father Death.
Her attacker didn't respond; only raised the machete high in the air, above it's head, and then dug it down with full force into Sarah's chest. She gasped and folded herself in half as she desperately clutched at the gap in her stomach. Blood began to flow on either side of her mouth and Yasmina screamed in horror as she witnessed all of it through the tiny window.
Sarah was just about to vanish into the netherworld when the attacker stabbed her again, seemingly taking pleasure in finishing her off.
Her world spun around her and everything seemed to get hazy as if a fog had covered Crystal Lake. She looked up just as her attacker removed the mask and saw long blonde hair flowing gracefully around the mask. A girl.
And then Sarah's head slumped to the left and the soul that lived inside her vanished.
"SARAH!!!" Yasmina screamed, realising the unimagineable. Someone has just murdered a girl in front of her. She spun around and saw what she never thought she would see. Patrick was standing over her, the hockey mask dangling proudly in his hands. His rusted machete propped up against the table, as if he could scare her without it.
"You...what...Patrick, what the fuck is going on?"
"Welcome to my home, baby" Patrick answered as his once presumed dead sister, Jodi Voorhees walked in the cabin with a lock of Sarah's hair.
"Time for the final act, bitch." Jodi said as she walked inside the cabin, machete in hand.
SCRE4M Review
Oh yeah, I did the unthinkable and downloaded a movie on the internet for free. I am a strong defender of copyright, and believe one should pay for the right to take in art. At the same time, I'm a strong defender of "save-the-penny" and will be even in richer times. That is for a different blog post, though.
So back to the important point, the review of the reboot Scream 4. As if the franchise hadn't been stretched out enough with the abysmal Scream 3, the producers thought that bringing the series back would be a fantastic idea.They were right. And I suggest every movie exec starts looking into their back-catalogues of old movies and start rebooting some franchises. Exept for this one:
Oh yeah they did remake this movie. With Camilla Belle. Yawn.
Back to the point part II: SCREAM 4.
I shall reveal a lot of plot details, murders and of course I will mention who Ghostface is, so please do not read if you haven't watched the movie and plan on watching it, this will ruin it all. You have been warned. Hate messages will not be tolerated.
Most of the premise of Scream 4, is reinventing the wheel and also jabbing nods to past Scream movies and characters. The most notable entry is the beginning where two "Drew Barrymores" (Kristen Bell and Anna Paquin) talk over the stab movie about how cliché the horror genre has become. Kristen Bell's character (KB) notes that nothing is surprising anymore and that the killer never shows himself until the end of the movie. Anna Paquin's character (AP) agrees before she is stabbed in the stomach by KB. When AB asks her friend why she did that, KB answers that she was annoyed by her talking and then stabs her friend again at which point the main title STAB 6 appears on screen and we are then informed that this was a movie within a movie. This repeats itself until we finally find ourselves with the "real" Scream 4 opening.
With that being said, it's like they didn't know what to do with the middle part of the movie. They had an awesome beginning and and awesome end (wait for it) but the middle had little excitement no suprises. So many characters grace the screen and some die before we even get to know anything about them.
Like many horror stories, the filmmakers believe that a profile view of the character and an obvious job title (policeman, nurse) will suffice in us getting an overall idea of who this character is. Yeah, not it doesn't suffice, I want character devellopment here.
People start to die one by one with little to no clues as to who could possible be the killer. Maybe there were but I wasn't interested at this point. I was still blown away by the beginning and they did little to reel me back in for more.
Not only that but all original Scream 1 characters are back. Just different actors. Hayden Pannetière is brilliant as Tatum (Um.. I mean Kirby), Emma Roberts is perfect as Sydney Prescott (Um..I mean Jill), ¸Rory Culkin and Erik Knudsen are quite believable in the dual of role of Randy (Um...I mean Charlie and Robbie), Alison Brie is convincing as Gale Weathers (Um...I mean Rebecca Walters)...You see where i'm getting with this?
It was hard to get into the movie when they wanted us so depseratly to remember the past movies. The execs clearly had in mind that we would watch this movie after watching all the previous entries and go :"Oh look that's Tatum, Oh look she's dying like Cici in Scream 2, oh"...Ok so I did do that and enjoyed doing so. Bad problem: I enjoyed it more then the movie.
They had to introduce us to the new rules of a horror movie and the way they led into it was so awful. Charlie Sheen could have come up with a better subplot then that. Seeing Sydney Prescott in a classroom only fifteen odd years after she graduated seems odd. Because you can tell she graduated WAYYYY before that. lmao.
Now, that is the entire middle part. If you can survive that, then you have made it to horror movie heaven and have witnessed the marvelous ending where Ghostface reveals herself to be none other then **** and her secret lover Charlie Walker (Culkin).
Kirby (Pannetière) is playing the movie game, in which Drew Barrymore's character eventually lost and found herself on the receiving end of The -Shling- Blade, the weapon that Ghostface uses; a knife that is never dull. odd. Who is behind the mask, Martha fucking Stewart?
Anyhow, Kirby wins the game and as she leaves the house to rescue her boytoy, he basically says thanks but no thanks, and proceeds to stab her mutliple times. In the OG Scream, a few stabs and blood would have been enough because the actors had skills, and we could tell they were in pain without all the guts and gore. Now they watch Stab marathons RIGHT after witnessing their best friend's murder. Um..are they all sociopaths?
Anyways, Pannetière is FINALLY murdered and left in the yard while Charlie enters the house to finish off the remaining characters. We are still unaware at this point that **** is the murderer.
Charlie enters the house, attacks Sydney; she tries to run but comes face to face with Ghostface numero dos who removes the mask and reveals her identity to us: Jill Prescott. Tum tum tum. In like 30 seconds, she turns around kills her actual boyfriend, Trevor (Nico Tortorella), kills Charlie (oh my god) and then kills Sydney (OH MY GOD!). Her speach (just like Billy Loomis') is to die for. Wow the writers hit it dead on (no pun intended) with this one. Everything I bitched about earlier is put into perspective by Jill's speech about youth in revolt and instant stardom. Like she says:
"All you have to do now to be famous is to have fucked up shit happen to you"
What she does next is completly nutso. The whole movie needs to be watched to truly appreciate everything behind it. The clichés, the characters, the feeling of déja-vu had to happen because "this is the reboot, baby".
So, I thought Gale was Ghostface. First, I thought they were going back to a darker, more original tone (see Scream, circa 1996) but then they decided to go with the bright colours and sarcastic dialogue (see Scream 3, circa 2000; scratch that, don't watch Scream 3! no reference is made in scream 4 anyways lol)
But then it became apparent quickly enough that they would all be surviving. And Sydney doesn't really die, she comes back in the hospital scene to finish off her fucking retarded cousin Jill. Man, she is creepy. But still, in the best line to date, Sydney looks at Dewey and Gale and then at her dead cousin, Jill, and says THE MOST AWESOME QUOTE IN SCREAM HISTORY:
"You forgot the most important rules of a remake...You don't fuck with the original"
Monday, April 25, 2011
Jesus Murphy: Blog Story (15)
- Chapter 15 -
Erased
Martin felt as if he was in a movie. He was walking just behind Anna Simeon down a very long and narrow corridor lined with rounded doors on either side. Her walk was rapid, and to the point. She didn't look back nor talked to Martin until they reached the final door on the left.
Anna, who had changed back into her own normal wear, a lilac-coloured fitted dress, stood on the opposite side of the door and gestured at Martin to enter the room. "Mary and Malcom are in there. They want to see you too."
He hesitated. Martin stood still in front of Anna, not knowing whether he should go back to the past or move forward. Anna had promised that either way, he was free to leave the Agency. She had made sure of that. Nobody had ever made him question the meaning of life like this. He had spent most of his life barricated inside training compounds for what? He had never received any form of gratitude for the dedication he showed to the Boss.
He also was hesitant about trusting Anna. Obviously this underground facility had to be controlled and operated by a few hundre people. Who was she working for? Sweat started beading down Martin's forehead as the realisation that maybe this wasn't a family reunion. He noticed Anna becoming uneasy. Something wasn't right.
"What's going on, Anna?" Martin asked, looking over his shoulder. He didn't feel safe anymore and his heart began to thump in his chest. The overbearing sensation of terror had invaded him.
"What do you mean? Just...go visit your family." She didn't look at Martin when she spoke to him. She held the door with one hand and tugged sporadically at the hem of her short dress with the other. She kept her focus on the floor at all times.
"They're not there, are they?" Martin asked. "ARE THEY?!"
Anna skipped when he raised his voice. She looked at Martin, tears forming a river in her bottom lids until they could hold no more and cascaded down her pearly-white face. Her lips quivered.
"No they're not. I'm so sorry it had to be this way"
Martin didn't truly understand the meaning of her words until he felt a shocking sensation vibrating through his neck. His muscles tightened and he collapsed to the floor. But before his vision faded, he noticed Anna blowing him a kiss.
*****
When he woke up he found himself in a hospital room. He tried to move but it quickly became apparent that he had been sedated. His muscles throbbed with pain, a pounding headache was threatening to shatter his skull, and his stomach rumbled with sinful lust for food.
The first thing he noticed was that his long dark hair had been trimmed to nothing but an inch long. He looked around his room. There was an I.D tag by the bed. Martin Christ, 16 years old, 5'9... Wherever he was, at least he knew that he was officially out of the Agency. They wouldn't dare have his real name printed anywhere where Jerusalem officials could find them.
He was just about ready to pass out when the nurse came in to check up on him. She checked his stats and then looked at Martin.
"Are you the son of Michael Christ Sr. and Evangeline?" The nurse asked.
"Yes," Martin answered. There was no point denying it now. His stats were available to everyone now. Things were different.
The nurse fumbled in her pockets and took what look like a picture out and handed it to Martin. It was a photgraph of a girl, about eight years old. She looked just like mom, he thought.
"Who is this girl?"
"Isn't it odd that you show up here, in Babylon, out of nowhere, and you just happen to be the brother of my adopted daughter? Now be honest, Martin Christ, who sent you here?"
He didn't notice at first, what with being sedated and all, but the nurse's voice stirred up forgotten memories of the night his family was destroyed. She was there. Her name was Jenna Crown. Whatever Anna did it worked. She didn't seem to remember Martin joining the Agency.
"I was visiting the statues as part of my school project." Martin forced himself to say. He didn't mean to lie, but he couldn't go back to the Agency. Although he didn't trust Anna anymore, he didn't feel right exposing her. That would only open doors to other questions.
The nurse seemed to accept his answer as being the truth. She promised that as soon as he was recovered, she would organize a reunion with Mary. She closed the lights on his bedside and told him to rest.
Martin couldn't move to his side and had no choice but to stare up at the ceiling. He wondered why Anna has sent him here, at the southern tip of Jerusalem? He knew it was her, there was no doubt about that. Was it to be reunited with Mary or was there something more to it?, he wondered. He closed his eyes and prayed that his troubles would be over.
"Are you the son of Michael Christ Sr. and Evangeline?" The nurse asked.
"Yes," Martin answered. There was no point denying it now. His stats were available to everyone now. Things were different.
The nurse fumbled in her pockets and took what look like a picture out and handed it to Martin. It was a photgraph of a girl, about eight years old. She looked just like mom, he thought.
"Who is this girl?"
"Isn't it odd that you show up here, in Babylon, out of nowhere, and you just happen to be the brother of my adopted daughter? Now be honest, Martin Christ, who sent you here?"
He didn't notice at first, what with being sedated and all, but the nurse's voice stirred up forgotten memories of the night his family was destroyed. She was there. Her name was Jenna Crown. Whatever Anna did it worked. She didn't seem to remember Martin joining the Agency.
"I was visiting the statues as part of my school project." Martin forced himself to say. He didn't mean to lie, but he couldn't go back to the Agency. Although he didn't trust Anna anymore, he didn't feel right exposing her. That would only open doors to other questions.
The nurse seemed to accept his answer as being the truth. She promised that as soon as he was recovered, she would organize a reunion with Mary. She closed the lights on his bedside and told him to rest.
Martin couldn't move to his side and had no choice but to stare up at the ceiling. He wondered why Anna has sent him here, at the southern tip of Jerusalem? He knew it was her, there was no doubt about that. Was it to be reunited with Mary or was there something more to it?, he wondered. He closed his eyes and prayed that his troubles would be over.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Jesus Murphy: Blog Story (14)
- Chapter 14 -
Anna Starts a Chain of Events
"So you never did tell me why you chose the Agency" Anna said.
They were in Babylon Lake yet somehow they avoided the entire point of going to the lake. You could barely qualify their padding around as swimming. Martin and Anna were unable to stop chatting.
" My older brother didn't hesitate when they asked him so I didn't either" Martin answered, matter-of-factly. He could hide his emotions in the mid afternoon sun; his brow was low and his eyes squinted into slits. The events that unfolded several years ago still pained him.
He had never opened up about how he felt that day to anyone in the Agency. None of his closest friends in there would compare to a friend on the outside. They were all robots, formed and molded into a soldier that would serve but one purpose; obey the Boss. Martin was considered a rebel of sorts as he often arrived after curfew, skipped meals, and would start fights with some of the other trainees.
Anna was different. Martin sensed a more human side to her, as if she hadn't let them infiltrate her mind just as he did. She had an amazing aura around her; a light purple glow when the sun lit her just right.
"Do you wonder what happened to your younger siblings?" Anna asked, slicking back her wet blonde hair, water dripping from the ends onto her shoulder. She caught Martin looking at her and it genuinely made her smile.
"Sometimes," he didn't really want to discuss that part of his past. Leaving them behind tore him apart. "I barely remember them" Martin continued.
"I know how you feel. I lost my little sister too. Similar story to yours," Anna said, " Parents fought secretly for the Agency for years. They never hid it from me; they encouraged me to do the same." She sighed, and Martin could feel her pain. Her pain of having to fight, of having to deal, to cope. Children aren't suppose to deal and cope.
"Where did you go afterwards? I mean, where were you before you came here?" Martin asked, soaking his dark shaggy hair in the lake.
"I did a lot of different training camps around Jerusalem. I don't really fit in" She added, with no remorse. She looked uncomfortble with the subject at hand.
Martin agreed. He had switched camps twice already but it didn't help. He didn't feel like he belonged here. It felt like a sentence more then an opportunity. If anyone would here them talking like this, they would most likely be sentenced to prison for treason to the Agency.
The sun was about to set and a sudden chill accompanied the wind. Martin suggested they get out of the lake and take a walk through the woods and back towards the training grounds.
"Sure, it is getting chilly" Anna said, following Martin out of the lake.
They dried off quickly and slipped into their trainee suits; a grey tracksuit with blue stripes running vertically up the sides. They had their names stitched in the front and the back. Christ and Simeon.
"I have a question for you, I mean, since you're so blunt about disliking the Agency." Martin hesitated. He wanted to be careful not to be overheard. He whispered: "Why do you think Jerusalem is unaware of the Sicarii if they're such a big threat?"
Anna stopped walking, confusion splattered across her face. "That's your secret question?" She looked at him funny, then brushed her fair hair behind her pointy ears. Martin had just noticed how very different she looked. Her expresions alone were bizarre. But her features were very peculiar as well. He had never seen anything like it in all of Jerusalem. He was about to question her heritage when Anna grabbed him by the hand and began walking towards the cliff that overlooked the Ocean.
"What are you getting at, Anna?" Martin asked, going along with whatever she had in mind.
"I have a question that is worth answering." She replied, walking straight towards the edge of the land. "It might answer yours as well in time."
They got to the cliff overlooking the Ocean. It was beautiful as the sun set in the horizon. Different shades of purples and blues reflected off the endless sheet of water.
"How far do you think that body of water stretches?" Anna asked.
"It seems endless. Why are you asking that?"
"Because, Martin, have you ever wondered what was outside this city, this country? What lived beyond Hopecity, beyond Jerusalem?"
Martin started. Something about that question was just unimaginable. There was nothing outside of the country of Jerusalem. How can somebody even suggest, let alone imagine such a ghostly idea.
"No, I haven't. Where did you even get such an idea?" Martin asked, almost ashamed of being involved in this discussion. He suddenly felt disconnected from Anna.
"I haven't been exactly honest with you about my past" She said, looking away from Martin, "My parents weren't from Jerusalem. In fact, they aren't from this body of land at all."
"Where are they from?" He asked, oddly curious. He felt connected again. Theories and secret societies was his favourite subject. He knew she looked different somehow.
"Across the Ocean." She said looking back at Martin. "And they're not dead. I'm telling you this because I see potential in you, Martin. You will impact the life of the Chosen One."
Martin suddenly felt shaky in the knees. The edge of the cliff looked too close for comfort and it made him nauseaus. He knelt and then sat down on the solid rock.
"How did you get in here? How did you become a trainee?" Martin asked.
"I am not a trainee, Martin. I have unique abilities that help me guide my way around certain obstacles. But there is one in particular that I can't seem to overcome. That is where you come in play." She said, sitting down beside Martin. "Well, you don't really do anything. A future family member of yours will."
"A future family member?"
"I can't say anymore, Martin. But I can start the process. We found Mary and Malcom."
Martin's brow twitched. All the rage and the anger he felt inside all these years for leaving them behind finally came to the surface and he began to cry.
"If you want, we can walk right out of here and nobody will ever remember you being part of the Agency?"
"I want to see them," was all Martin could say.
"Consider your past erased." Anna said, smiling.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
A stranger in a strange land
I know it's only day 2 at my job, but I feel oddly out of place, almost like a fish out of water. The staff (of two, no less) is super friendly and I have already semi bonded with my boss over karate, food, and our parent's background. My boss, which I will from now on refer to as A-D has some issues with her cardio and was thinking of hitting up the kickboxing classes, preferring the more laid-back feel of classes to the more strenuous gym routines. I Don't blame her. I suggested she try karate or even cardio kickboxing, which is more focused on individual form rather then training to kick someone's ass.
Of course, we were talking about health and fitness while eating chocolate cake. LMAO. Some profs were returning from mat leave (well actually, pat leave. Their wives gave birth, not them) and since I knew nobody - introductions were made but people were excited over the babies, not the new kid on the block - A-D and I got to talking. First the "I need to get back into shape" talk then we briefly switched over to talking about food because both she and employee numero dos were awwwed by my lunch. It seems to simply amaze people to know men can cook too. You can hold a hammer and drive a pick-up, men can cook.
While we were talking about food, a Hispanic prof came over and to my surprise A-D spoke fluent spanish. Not just like, "I took a course over the summer" fluent. Like fluent fluent even laughed in spanish!! WTF! So I obviously ask her where she learned spanish and - wait for it - I find out her father is a diplomat and she was born in Haiti and raised somewhere ( can't remember, will get back at you with the details ) in South America. And then I find out she does volunteer work through the University and just came back from Botswana!With all of that being said - I told ya, the staff is cool - I still feel like a stranger in a strange land. People there are so aware and well-travelled. They went everywhere. Sometimes twice. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I am not globally conscious. But these people don't just watch Nat Geo, they live Nat Geo. lol. I feel like a kid not a colleague, and equal.
And just to rant for ranting's sake, I miss the little kitchen at the Financial Aid Office. I could keep my bowl, cup, and utensils and clean them in the sink. I miss my friends from the FAO. I miss the little lady, Hortence, who came to fill up our cleaning supplies and such. I miss the proximity to the cafeteria where I could get a cheap coffee and not be forced to buy Starbucks, however great it tastes! I miss everything I "complained" about: Sometimes not having anything to do, dealing with crazy & deranged students, dealing with crazy & deranged parents of students. lol. Because I had the support of colleagues. It's day 2. I know in time I will be comfortable with my coworkers. I dont possibly see how we couldn't get along, they are both so nice and welcoming. But it will always remain that: coworkers. I'm just a contract that's replacing Ginette.
Sigh.
Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Epilogue of a short story
This is it my friends. The last chapter of the Friday the 13th revamp. Sarah has managed to survive the night alongside her presumed-dead boyfriend. Togheter they conquered Jason and managed to escape the macabre scene that was left at Camp Crystal Lake. Rest assured, for those who might have been dissapointed with the finale, there is an alternate-ending in the works that will be the total opposite of the original ending. That does not mean, in any way, that i was dissapointed with the current ending. If I wrote it the way it is, it's because part of me felt that it was right.
Sarah didn't need to kill Jason for her character to grow, which is stereotypical horror-movie fashion. Innocent girl becomes a killer. That's not growth, that is self-defense and anyone is capable of that! No, her growth resides in her separation from her bapcia, her detachment from maternal figures who she can depend off. She realises in that split-second hallucination in the field of carnations, that she has it in her to do whatever it is she wants, as long as she knows why she is doing it.
Yes, she goes from being sweet, and docile and then switches mid-way to be a bit more open around other people, experimental, although she still has that reservation, that judge-mental attitude. When she is on the brink of losing it, in that field, and she sees the people that have been murdered by Jason, that is truly when she realises that people have more in common then she, and anyone, can imagine.
I guess her growth is not even that apparent until the second installment, when we meet Travis, her ex. The way she interacts with him versus the way she interacts with Tyh is alarming. I am not sure though if I will post Friday the 13th Part II as it contains more gore, nudity, and vulgarity that I can shake a stick at (haven't used that expression in forever). It's just way too silly and bloody. I tried to stay true to campy horror stories. Ask anyone, I love myself a cheesy sequel (only if characters continue, if they don't it's just rubbish!)
The sequel to Friday the 13th is just redonculous. So don't expect a sequel to be added here but you never know. A part from loving cheesy sequels and alternate scenes, I love rewrites even more!! lol.
So with that being said, here is the epilogue to Friday the 13th Part I (Certain characters seem new, that's because they continue into the sequel)...
EPILOGUE
He’ll Haunt me Forever
Sarah was quickly placed in a stretcher the moment she arrived at the
emergency room. Her mother was by her side, calling her name and pleading
her to stay strong. Eva had just arrived from New-York when she received
the tragic phone call on her cell. She was livid at the state of her
daughter. Sarah had blood everywhere on her and it trickled on either side
of her waist.
The doctors were talking gibberish with the nurses.Sarah was conscious of
her surroundings but didn’t seem able to move her body in any way. She
felt her mother’s hand gently cross her own. She wanted desperately to
reassure her mother and it pained her tremendously not being able to
communicate her love. She also wanted to share the anger she felt inside;
anger towards the boy who did this to her. Jason.
“Is she going to be okay? What’s happening to her? The blood, Oh God, the
blood!” Eva was beside herself, weeping hysterically as she attempted to
speak. Her little princess was beaten and wounded. She could barely keep
calm and one of the doctors ordered her to remain in the waiting room. She
protested vehemently but finally subsided when they reassured her that
they could only do their best if they weren’t being distracted by her
shouting.
She crossed Tyh as she returned to the front of the small hospital. He had
just exited the examination room. He smiled at Eva and she returned the
gesture. “Thank you… for saving my daughter” She started crying again and
Tyh walked over and hugged her. He patted her back and cried with her.
“She is a very brave and strong girl; an amazing girl.” He said, looking
at Eva in the eyes. She wiped her tears away and brushed her blonde hair
from her face. She was about to thank him again when his parents suddenly
appeared in the hallway.
“TYH!” His father screamed, running towards him. Eva looked on as the
family hugged and kissed and cried and laughed. His mother smothered him
with kisses and his father cried with relief. Eva looked back at the
operating room, the furthest one from the entrance. She placed her faith
and trust in the doctors of Crystal Lake Community Hospital. Tyh and his
parents walked over to introduce themselves and together - again - they
shared a cry.
*****
Lancaster Smith had been quickly promoted to sheriff that very same night.
The death of Dean Jones had saddened him immensely. Seeing his body leave
in a black bag was repulsing and vile. He didn’t deserve that. He felt
wrong taking his position like this. Rachel Ackerman had been promoted to
deputy sheriff. She was assisting him tonight.
The murder scenes were horribly disgusting. Thirteen people had been
killed; mostly adolescents. Slain in ways Lancaster had never seen before.
Innocent children had been taken away in such a violent fashion.
“Why don’t you go check the main lodge” The sheriff asked, walking towards
the cabins.
“Yes, sheriff” Rachel answered making her way towards the lodge.
Lancaster walked up to the cabin in the middle, the one closest to the
other tree line. He stepped inside and lit his flashlight. An adolescent
boy was hanging from a beam and a teenage girl was slumped on the ground,
an arrow sticking out the back of her head. The sheriff sighed and closed
the door behind him as he walked out.
Deputy sheriff Ackerman was running towards him, frantic. “He’s gone,
Lancaster. The bastard isn’t there. The caller said the body was in the
lodge. It’s not there.”
Lancaster looked out at the forest and shuttered at the thought of a
serial killer on the loose.
“Call the neighbouring towns. Put out his description and his aliases.
This son of a bitch is not going to get away.”
*****
Eva was pacing in the waiting room. The Simms had gone home about thirty
minutes ago and the place was silent. She was walking past the fern for
the hundredth time when Doctor Cohen emerged from the ER.
“IS SHE OKAY?” Eva screamed out, running towards the doctor.
He adjusted his thick black glasses and wrapped his arm around her. “Your
daughter is in good condition. We patched her up and now all she needs is
rest. You can go in and say hello when they move her to one of the rooms.”
She thanked him and kissed him on the cheek. The nurses strolled Sarah out
of the emergency room and brought her in of the rooms on the side.
Sarah was looking out the window, unable to sleep. She was thinking about
Tyh when her mother walked in the room. “My princess, you’re safe.” She
was about to reach down for a hug when Sarah protested. “It hurts too
much.”
“Oh my poor baby” she cried and sat by the bed, slipping her fingers in
between her daughter’s. “You just get some sleep”
“I can’t. All is can see is him” Sarah whispered, turning away from her
mother. She gazed out the window at the moon that could finally be seen in
the sky.
“He’ll haunt me forever”
*****
That is it for Friday the 13th. I want your feedback. What did you like, what did you like less? What is your favourite chapter? Who did you like most, or hated most? Were you surprised by Jason=Patrick or unaffected? What should I do about the sequel? Post here or on Facebook. I appreciate all if any (you shy people!!) feedback!!
Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink
Маската Կվերադարձվի
Sarah didn't need to kill Jason for her character to grow, which is stereotypical horror-movie fashion. Innocent girl becomes a killer. That's not growth, that is self-defense and anyone is capable of that! No, her growth resides in her separation from her bapcia, her detachment from maternal figures who she can depend off. She realises in that split-second hallucination in the field of carnations, that she has it in her to do whatever it is she wants, as long as she knows why she is doing it.
Yes, she goes from being sweet, and docile and then switches mid-way to be a bit more open around other people, experimental, although she still has that reservation, that judge-mental attitude. When she is on the brink of losing it, in that field, and she sees the people that have been murdered by Jason, that is truly when she realises that people have more in common then she, and anyone, can imagine.
I guess her growth is not even that apparent until the second installment, when we meet Travis, her ex. The way she interacts with him versus the way she interacts with Tyh is alarming. I am not sure though if I will post Friday the 13th Part II as it contains more gore, nudity, and vulgarity that I can shake a stick at (haven't used that expression in forever). It's just way too silly and bloody. I tried to stay true to campy horror stories. Ask anyone, I love myself a cheesy sequel (only if characters continue, if they don't it's just rubbish!)
The sequel to Friday the 13th is just redonculous. So don't expect a sequel to be added here but you never know. A part from loving cheesy sequels and alternate scenes, I love rewrites even more!! lol.
So with that being said, here is the epilogue to Friday the 13th Part I (Certain characters seem new, that's because they continue into the sequel)...
EPILOGUE
He’ll Haunt me Forever
Sarah was quickly placed in a stretcher the moment she arrived at the
emergency room. Her mother was by her side, calling her name and pleading
her to stay strong. Eva had just arrived from New-York when she received
the tragic phone call on her cell. She was livid at the state of her
daughter. Sarah had blood everywhere on her and it trickled on either side
of her waist.
The doctors were talking gibberish with the nurses.Sarah was conscious of
her surroundings but didn’t seem able to move her body in any way. She
felt her mother’s hand gently cross her own. She wanted desperately to
reassure her mother and it pained her tremendously not being able to
communicate her love. She also wanted to share the anger she felt inside;
anger towards the boy who did this to her. Jason.
“Is she going to be okay? What’s happening to her? The blood, Oh God, the
blood!” Eva was beside herself, weeping hysterically as she attempted to
speak. Her little princess was beaten and wounded. She could barely keep
calm and one of the doctors ordered her to remain in the waiting room. She
protested vehemently but finally subsided when they reassured her that
they could only do their best if they weren’t being distracted by her
shouting.
She crossed Tyh as she returned to the front of the small hospital. He had
just exited the examination room. He smiled at Eva and she returned the
gesture. “Thank you… for saving my daughter” She started crying again and
Tyh walked over and hugged her. He patted her back and cried with her.
“She is a very brave and strong girl; an amazing girl.” He said, looking
at Eva in the eyes. She wiped her tears away and brushed her blonde hair
from her face. She was about to thank him again when his parents suddenly
appeared in the hallway.
“TYH!” His father screamed, running towards him. Eva looked on as the
family hugged and kissed and cried and laughed. His mother smothered him
with kisses and his father cried with relief. Eva looked back at the
operating room, the furthest one from the entrance. She placed her faith
and trust in the doctors of Crystal Lake Community Hospital. Tyh and his
parents walked over to introduce themselves and together - again - they
shared a cry.
*****
Lancaster Smith had been quickly promoted to sheriff that very same night.
The death of Dean Jones had saddened him immensely. Seeing his body leave
in a black bag was repulsing and vile. He didn’t deserve that. He felt
wrong taking his position like this. Rachel Ackerman had been promoted to
deputy sheriff. She was assisting him tonight.
The murder scenes were horribly disgusting. Thirteen people had been
killed; mostly adolescents. Slain in ways Lancaster had never seen before.
Innocent children had been taken away in such a violent fashion.
“Why don’t you go check the main lodge” The sheriff asked, walking towards
the cabins.
“Yes, sheriff” Rachel answered making her way towards the lodge.
Lancaster walked up to the cabin in the middle, the one closest to the
other tree line. He stepped inside and lit his flashlight. An adolescent
boy was hanging from a beam and a teenage girl was slumped on the ground,
an arrow sticking out the back of her head. The sheriff sighed and closed
the door behind him as he walked out.
Deputy sheriff Ackerman was running towards him, frantic. “He’s gone,
Lancaster. The bastard isn’t there. The caller said the body was in the
lodge. It’s not there.”
Lancaster looked out at the forest and shuttered at the thought of a
serial killer on the loose.
“Call the neighbouring towns. Put out his description and his aliases.
This son of a bitch is not going to get away.”
*****
Eva was pacing in the waiting room. The Simms had gone home about thirty
minutes ago and the place was silent. She was walking past the fern for
the hundredth time when Doctor Cohen emerged from the ER.
“IS SHE OKAY?” Eva screamed out, running towards the doctor.
He adjusted his thick black glasses and wrapped his arm around her. “Your
daughter is in good condition. We patched her up and now all she needs is
rest. You can go in and say hello when they move her to one of the rooms.”
She thanked him and kissed him on the cheek. The nurses strolled Sarah out
of the emergency room and brought her in of the rooms on the side.
Sarah was looking out the window, unable to sleep. She was thinking about
Tyh when her mother walked in the room. “My princess, you’re safe.” She
was about to reach down for a hug when Sarah protested. “It hurts too
much.”
“Oh my poor baby” she cried and sat by the bed, slipping her fingers in
between her daughter’s. “You just get some sleep”
“I can’t. All is can see is him” Sarah whispered, turning away from her
mother. She gazed out the window at the moon that could finally be seen in
the sky.
“He’ll haunt me forever”
*****
That is it for Friday the 13th. I want your feedback. What did you like, what did you like less? What is your favourite chapter? Who did you like most, or hated most? Were you surprised by Jason=Patrick or unaffected? What should I do about the sequel? Post here or on Facebook. I appreciate all if any (you shy people!!) feedback!!
Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink
Маската Կվերադարձվի
Jesus Murphy: Blog Story (13)
- Chapter 13 -
New Quarters
They told him he had a choice. Gave him options as to what he could do next. Grieving of course, wasn't one of them. He could go to the oprhanage with his younger sister and brother. Get adopted, live a nice life. They offered him another option, one Michael took gladly. He could join a elite group of people that wanted to change the world. The Agency.
Martin accepted the offer, preferring by far to spend the next several years with his older brother. He was still young and, forgive him but, he was traumatized from the death of his parents. He had little time to think and didn't realize that he would no longer see his younger siblings anymore and forever. To his youthful mind, he was simply leaving for the summer with his older brother to a training camp.
That his why no tears were shed when Mary and Malcom were taken from the home and dissapeared in the back of a stretch limousine. The War was over and the good guys had won. Mother and father have passed. Mary and Malcom have left.
Martin turned towards his brother to seek comfort but only found anger and chagrin. Some of the men that were searching the home were now exiting from the front door and into their respective cars. They scared Martin; in they way they moved, how they didn't communicate but knew what to do as if hypnotized. One of them grabbed Michael then another grabbed Martin and they left the house, leaving behind his stuffed camel.
******
All Martin can see is darkness. He is surrounded by nothing. The room he was being held in was cold and the floor was rough. It has been like this for the past three days. He missed his fourteenth birthday. He had been punished before for disobeying orders but never as severly as this time. Never had they locked him up in a bare room with nothing to eat and little water, and subzero temperature atop all of that.
Martin was crouched in the middle of the room. His knees were tucked under his chin and his arms were wrapped around his shaking knees. He was lost in thought. DIsoriented. Hungry. He didn't budge when the door finally swung open and light creeped in.
"You can go back to your quarters" the big burly guard shouted as if speaking to no one in particular.
Martin lifted his head with immense effort, his energy drained. The beam of light that sparkled in from the crack in the door partially blinded him. He squinted and his eyes adjusted to the stark contrats of the light. He slowly got up from his crouched position, hiding his genitals with his hands. There wasn't a form of punishment more embarassing them being left stark naked in a frigid and dark room.
He walked passed the big-bellied guard and could swear he was checking him out. Martin's face reddened as he marched on forward towards his room. He could barely call it a room, it ressembled much more a prisoner's cell then a trainee's room.
The embarassment did not stop at the enclosed, darkened room. Martin had to pass by all the other trainees, all of whom would stop their activities to stare, point, laugh. If Martin hadn't made the decision of joining the Agency back when he was still a kid, this treatment would surely have made him think twice.
When he finally reached the confines of his small, tapestry-heavy bedroom, he noticed a new tenant had taken up place. Martin hadn't had a roommate in several months. He was pleased though to find that this new roomie was female. Hot female.
"Please, do make yourself comfortable" Martin suggested, deciding just then to stop hiding his family jewels.
The girl took one long look at Martin then sighed. A small arc formed itself in the right corner of her lips. She seemed amused. "Don't flatter yourself, Martin Christ. I know all about your charming ways" She answered, her voice smooth as silk.
She grabbed what looked like swimming trunks and threw them at Martin. He catched them mid-air and looked at her with bewilderment. "What are there for?"
"Were going swimming, silly." She answered, removing the dress that was the only thing covering her body. She peeked over her shoulder and caught Martin looking at her with eyes that could only be compared with those of a horny lion. "Turn around, please. I thought they still teached manners here" She told him, this time no smile appeared on face.
Martin turned around, smiling to himself. This would be an interesting summer. If only he could refrain from being caught and punished. He slipped on his trunks just as the girl walked passed him. She looked at him as she walked by and smiled. "My name is Anna by the way. Anna Simeon"
Martin was crouched in the middle of the room. His knees were tucked under his chin and his arms were wrapped around his shaking knees. He was lost in thought. DIsoriented. Hungry. He didn't budge when the door finally swung open and light creeped in.
"You can go back to your quarters" the big burly guard shouted as if speaking to no one in particular.
Martin lifted his head with immense effort, his energy drained. The beam of light that sparkled in from the crack in the door partially blinded him. He squinted and his eyes adjusted to the stark contrats of the light. He slowly got up from his crouched position, hiding his genitals with his hands. There wasn't a form of punishment more embarassing them being left stark naked in a frigid and dark room.
He walked passed the big-bellied guard and could swear he was checking him out. Martin's face reddened as he marched on forward towards his room. He could barely call it a room, it ressembled much more a prisoner's cell then a trainee's room.
The embarassment did not stop at the enclosed, darkened room. Martin had to pass by all the other trainees, all of whom would stop their activities to stare, point, laugh. If Martin hadn't made the decision of joining the Agency back when he was still a kid, this treatment would surely have made him think twice.
When he finally reached the confines of his small, tapestry-heavy bedroom, he noticed a new tenant had taken up place. Martin hadn't had a roommate in several months. He was pleased though to find that this new roomie was female. Hot female.
"Please, do make yourself comfortable" Martin suggested, deciding just then to stop hiding his family jewels.
The girl took one long look at Martin then sighed. A small arc formed itself in the right corner of her lips. She seemed amused. "Don't flatter yourself, Martin Christ. I know all about your charming ways" She answered, her voice smooth as silk.
She grabbed what looked like swimming trunks and threw them at Martin. He catched them mid-air and looked at her with bewilderment. "What are there for?"
"Were going swimming, silly." She answered, removing the dress that was the only thing covering her body. She peeked over her shoulder and caught Martin looking at her with eyes that could only be compared with those of a horny lion. "Turn around, please. I thought they still teached manners here" She told him, this time no smile appeared on face.
Martin turned around, smiling to himself. This would be an interesting summer. If only he could refrain from being caught and punished. He slipped on his trunks just as the girl walked passed him. She looked at him as she walked by and smiled. "My name is Anna by the way. Anna Simeon"
Monday, April 11, 2011
Jesus Murphy: Stat Talk
So it has come to my attention that most of my Jesus Murphy: Blog Story readers are intrigued with Madonna Riviera, A.K.A. the Loyal Agent. I have more people reading the chapters she appears in then all other chapters...combined. lmao.
I just started regrouping my chapters into more blog-friendly groups, joining togheter the storylines that mesh well. With that being said, only a handful of people have read the first grouping, entitled The Early Years while more then twenty people have already begun reading the second grouping, A Loyal Agent, which is the Madonna story arc. And more then double have read the third grouping, Growing Pains.
That obviously leads me to believe that my Jesus Murphy character isn't super fantastic or interesting. *sighs* Something has gotta give here, people. I am glad that Jesus Murphy is taking a break while I am concentrating more on his lineage from chapter 12 to chapter 18. I am sincerly considering doing some major overhauls when the narrative returns to the present day.
I have no idea what it will be though.
Should I tighten the storyline, and leave less loose ends for interpretation and improvments?
Should I do more of a day by day storyline instead of a 33-Year-Narrative?
Should I give Madonna Riviera her own Blog Story?
I think I know what I need to do...
Simplify the good vs. evil storyline and cut the crap out. Yup, chapter 18 will be amazing and maybe slightly confusing for some as I will do a complete 360 and improve our little champion!! And what will become of Madonna Riviera? She may well be on her way to bigger and brighter things. ;)
Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink
I just started regrouping my chapters into more blog-friendly groups, joining togheter the storylines that mesh well. With that being said, only a handful of people have read the first grouping, entitled The Early Years while more then twenty people have already begun reading the second grouping, A Loyal Agent, which is the Madonna story arc. And more then double have read the third grouping, Growing Pains.
That obviously leads me to believe that my Jesus Murphy character isn't super fantastic or interesting. *sighs* Something has gotta give here, people. I am glad that Jesus Murphy is taking a break while I am concentrating more on his lineage from chapter 12 to chapter 18. I am sincerly considering doing some major overhauls when the narrative returns to the present day.
I have no idea what it will be though.
Should I tighten the storyline, and leave less loose ends for interpretation and improvments?
Should I do more of a day by day storyline instead of a 33-Year-Narrative?
Should I give Madonna Riviera her own Blog Story?
I think I know what I need to do...
Simplify the good vs. evil storyline and cut the crap out. Yup, chapter 18 will be amazing and maybe slightly confusing for some as I will do a complete 360 and improve our little champion!! And what will become of Madonna Riviera? She may well be on her way to bigger and brighter things. ;)
Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink
Last Week :(
Boo-hoo!! I woke up this morning and realised it would be my last week as a Financial Aid Officer at the University of Ottawa. With that came the realisation that I would no longer have to deal with some situations that seem to be reserved strictly for the Financial Aid and Awards Services.
Bizarre cases that would surely get me fired if I discussed them on such open and public forums such as the likes of my blog. It got me to thinking that as much as I dispised the complainers and the whiners, they will be missed.
I will also miss my very specific students that I have come to love, like K**** K**. Oh how very special you were with your Ipod, your pearls, your Gucci, and your "desperate financial need". Sell your crap, and you can afford life outside your world of designer frames and brand clothes. Seriously. Jeez.
At first I was hesitant about taking up the job offer, question of not wanting to switch over from administrative to academics but then I thought about all - AAAAAALL- the crises that would be avoided in a more peaceful setting. No more crazies from the street begging us for cash, no more parents calling to scream at us that there kids didn't receive their OSAP funding and then are all surprised when I inform them that their kid dropped out two months ago. You know, common situations like this one:
"Hi, I'm like confused a bit. My mom like told me I had some paper to pick up about like some OSIP thing, like...i don't know."
"You mean you want to pick up the loan you applied for called OSAP, not OSIP?"
*Student giigles* "I guess, like my mom's a bitch so I don't know. I'm 25 and threw a tantrum so I was like not paying attention, you know?"
Yay! Situations like THOSE are not to be seen anymore starting next Monday. What a relief. Hopefully this will not happen:
*Monday morning, just started my new job and student walks in*
"Like O-M-G, you're the guy from Financial Aid. How odd!"
"Hi, how can I help you?"
"Well, like you know, the University is threatening to kick me out because, i don't know why, like my OSIP was never given to me. So like, my tuition is not paid for. Totally douche-bag of them! Ugh"
"It's OSAP, not OSIP. Let me check your file"
*i check her file, multiple e-mails were sent to student to pay tuition or else she would be kicked out. I return my attention to the student and sigh to myself.*
"You were sent several e-mails to pay tuition or else you would be kicked out. Do you check your Uottawa webmail?"
"O-M-G, no i don't. I didn't even know that existed. I'm like totally screwed. FML. Is the webmail related to the sperm whale?"
Situations like these sound absurd. They happen. Often. Now I don't even know what my new job really consists of. Hopefully I will have my own office with a name tag by the door. That would be awesome. I would probably close the door and the blinds and just start spasting like Michael J. Fox without meds. Oooh that was harsh. I went there.
On that note, I will miss my collegues so much and the fun times we have around the office. I'll miss the comic-reliefs like Alain, Anne, Linda and Lucie. I'll the miss the hardworkers and the gatherers such as Alice and Margot. I'll miss my lunch buddies such as Marie-Claude and Andrée. I'll miss my young'uns who work and study: Danika, François, Fred, Immacula, Nadine, and Stéphanie. I'll miss my bestest buddy and bus partner Sonya. I'll miss the addictive laughs of Karine and Yolette. I'll miss the dead-on answers of Suzanne and Sylvie and the generous help from my scholarship counterparts Anna and Annie. I'll miss the dedication and organizational skills of Diane G. and the many recipe ideas from Diane P. I'll miss the general laid-back atmosphere of the Financial Aid and Awards.
I will not miss the students, the location, nor the ventilation (or lack of).
Candles are packed and ready to move!
Eleven's Ink
Bizarre cases that would surely get me fired if I discussed them on such open and public forums such as the likes of my blog. It got me to thinking that as much as I dispised the complainers and the whiners, they will be missed.
I will also miss my very specific students that I have come to love, like K**** K**. Oh how very special you were with your Ipod, your pearls, your Gucci, and your "desperate financial need". Sell your crap, and you can afford life outside your world of designer frames and brand clothes. Seriously. Jeez.
At first I was hesitant about taking up the job offer, question of not wanting to switch over from administrative to academics but then I thought about all - AAAAAALL- the crises that would be avoided in a more peaceful setting. No more crazies from the street begging us for cash, no more parents calling to scream at us that there kids didn't receive their OSAP funding and then are all surprised when I inform them that their kid dropped out two months ago. You know, common situations like this one:
"Hi, I'm like confused a bit. My mom like told me I had some paper to pick up about like some OSIP thing, like...i don't know."
"You mean you want to pick up the loan you applied for called OSAP, not OSIP?"
*Student giigles* "I guess, like my mom's a bitch so I don't know. I'm 25 and threw a tantrum so I was like not paying attention, you know?"
Yay! Situations like THOSE are not to be seen anymore starting next Monday. What a relief. Hopefully this will not happen:
*Monday morning, just started my new job and student walks in*
"Like O-M-G, you're the guy from Financial Aid. How odd!"
"Hi, how can I help you?"
"Well, like you know, the University is threatening to kick me out because, i don't know why, like my OSIP was never given to me. So like, my tuition is not paid for. Totally douche-bag of them! Ugh"
"It's OSAP, not OSIP. Let me check your file"
*i check her file, multiple e-mails were sent to student to pay tuition or else she would be kicked out. I return my attention to the student and sigh to myself.*
"You were sent several e-mails to pay tuition or else you would be kicked out. Do you check your Uottawa webmail?"
"O-M-G, no i don't. I didn't even know that existed. I'm like totally screwed. FML. Is the webmail related to the sperm whale?"
Situations like these sound absurd. They happen. Often. Now I don't even know what my new job really consists of. Hopefully I will have my own office with a name tag by the door. That would be awesome. I would probably close the door and the blinds and just start spasting like Michael J. Fox without meds. Oooh that was harsh. I went there.
On that note, I will miss my collegues so much and the fun times we have around the office. I'll miss the comic-reliefs like Alain, Anne, Linda and Lucie. I'll the miss the hardworkers and the gatherers such as Alice and Margot. I'll miss my lunch buddies such as Marie-Claude and Andrée. I'll miss my young'uns who work and study: Danika, François, Fred, Immacula, Nadine, and Stéphanie. I'll miss my bestest buddy and bus partner Sonya. I'll miss the addictive laughs of Karine and Yolette. I'll miss the dead-on answers of Suzanne and Sylvie and the generous help from my scholarship counterparts Anna and Annie. I'll miss the dedication and organizational skills of Diane G. and the many recipe ideas from Diane P. I'll miss the general laid-back atmosphere of the Financial Aid and Awards.
I will not miss the students, the location, nor the ventilation (or lack of).
Candles are packed and ready to move!
Eleven's Ink
Jesus Murphy: Growing Pains (Ch. 8 - 11)
- Chapter 8 -
It Comes to Light
The breeze outside was warm but refreshing, breaking the stale air that took over the month of July. Jesus was sitting in the backseat, the window wide open. Martin was humming some classic rock song in the front, looking in the rear view mirror ever so often to catch a glimpse of his nephew.
They finally arrived at the local elementary school where Jesus would start next week. Martin got out of the car first but the little boy was apprehensive and stayed in the car for a while longer. When he was finally done pouting, he stepped out of the car and walked with his uncle up to the school.
It was very colonial, with wild vines creeping up the red brick. The doors were arched and they creaked when Jesus opened them. Their was a pungent smell in the air that invaded his nostrils the second he stepped in, as if he had just walked into a laboratory. He recognized the smell as formaldehyde, a gas often used in liquids to preserve biological specimens. Martin had a few mammal foetuses on display at home, due to his eccentric taste in art, and the smell would often nauseate Jesus.
Their was something distinctively odd about the school but Jesus couldn't quite comprehend what it was. He was just about to ask Martin if they could leave when his uncle announced that they were here, at the principle's office.
"You wait here, and have a seat, I'll go talk with your principle," Martin added, pointing to the chairs that lined the waiting room. Martin walked up to the secretary and told her he had a meeting with the principle. She smiled, spoke in her intercom, and shortly after a tall, slender man stepped out of an office, and his eyes immediately darted towards Jesus. Something in his smile scared Jesus.
"Mr. Christ, how delightful. Please do come in. Will little Jesus join us?" The man asked, keeping his eyes firmly on the boy.
"Let's leave grown-up talk for grown-ups" Martin answered matter-of-faclty, pushing his way past the thin man and walking into the office.
Jesus was sitting quite calmly, kicking his legs back and forth over the edge of the antique wood bench. He was thinking about his new school, his new life. He wondered about his old friends and his old life and also about that woman that appeared to him this morning and late last night. He was just about to form a picture of her in his mind when something caught his attention to his left.
He looked up and noticed a lilac flower resting by the door. He looked back at the quiet secretary who had her nose in her book. She wasn't paying him any attention. He quickly got off the bench and picked up the flower, only to spot another one a little further down the hall. He hurried to pick it up and saw another one approximately twenty feet ahead. He was beginning to think someone had placed them there delibaretly.
Jesus looked back towards the principal's office and saw no one. He continued to follow the lilac trail when he found the source of the chemical smell he sniffed earlier. An elderly man was resting back against wall in a corner, his hands limp on either side. There was broken glass everywhere and liquids were seeping off the countertops.
The man was gasping for air and Jesus noticed the man,s eyes were bleeding. He was calling for help. Tears were forming in the corner of the little boy's blue eyes and he backed up against the wall, his lip quivering. He closed his eyes and the image of Madonna appeared to him.
"Heal the world, Jesus" she whispered, a distinct purple aura flowing from her, as if a purple hue emanated from her skin. Jesus noded in approval and opened his eyes again. He moved confidently towards the man, as if he knew what he was about to do.
Jesus kneeled down besides the screaming man and placed his hand on either side of the man's head. Something, almost like a tickle, crept from his pit and up through his chest and into his arms. It went through his limbs and into his hands and he felt warmth at the tip of his fingers. The man was crouched over, moaning in agony.
The energy that was flowing through his body had started to weigh down on the little boy. He heard his name being called out and saw his uncle running into the classroom. Jesus noticed the man's eyes and the blood that was running back into the eyes, as if someone, somewhere was rewinding the event. Jesus smiled then passed out.
Their was something distinctively odd about the school but Jesus couldn't quite comprehend what it was. He was just about to ask Martin if they could leave when his uncle announced that they were here, at the principle's office.
"You wait here, and have a seat, I'll go talk with your principle," Martin added, pointing to the chairs that lined the waiting room. Martin walked up to the secretary and told her he had a meeting with the principle. She smiled, spoke in her intercom, and shortly after a tall, slender man stepped out of an office, and his eyes immediately darted towards Jesus. Something in his smile scared Jesus.
"Mr. Christ, how delightful. Please do come in. Will little Jesus join us?" The man asked, keeping his eyes firmly on the boy.
"Let's leave grown-up talk for grown-ups" Martin answered matter-of-faclty, pushing his way past the thin man and walking into the office.
Jesus was sitting quite calmly, kicking his legs back and forth over the edge of the antique wood bench. He was thinking about his new school, his new life. He wondered about his old friends and his old life and also about that woman that appeared to him this morning and late last night. He was just about to form a picture of her in his mind when something caught his attention to his left.
He looked up and noticed a lilac flower resting by the door. He looked back at the quiet secretary who had her nose in her book. She wasn't paying him any attention. He quickly got off the bench and picked up the flower, only to spot another one a little further down the hall. He hurried to pick it up and saw another one approximately twenty feet ahead. He was beginning to think someone had placed them there delibaretly.
Jesus looked back towards the principal's office and saw no one. He continued to follow the lilac trail when he found the source of the chemical smell he sniffed earlier. An elderly man was resting back against wall in a corner, his hands limp on either side. There was broken glass everywhere and liquids were seeping off the countertops.
The man was gasping for air and Jesus noticed the man,s eyes were bleeding. He was calling for help. Tears were forming in the corner of the little boy's blue eyes and he backed up against the wall, his lip quivering. He closed his eyes and the image of Madonna appeared to him.
"Heal the world, Jesus" she whispered, a distinct purple aura flowing from her, as if a purple hue emanated from her skin. Jesus noded in approval and opened his eyes again. He moved confidently towards the man, as if he knew what he was about to do.
Jesus kneeled down besides the screaming man and placed his hand on either side of the man's head. Something, almost like a tickle, crept from his pit and up through his chest and into his arms. It went through his limbs and into his hands and he felt warmth at the tip of his fingers. The man was crouched over, moaning in agony.
The energy that was flowing through his body had started to weigh down on the little boy. He heard his name being called out and saw his uncle running into the classroom. Jesus noticed the man's eyes and the blood that was running back into the eyes, as if someone, somewhere was rewinding the event. Jesus smiled then passed out.
- Chapter 9 -
Abrupt Departure
9 YEARS LATER
It was christmas eve. The day before Jesus's sixteenth birthday. The day before the anniversary of his mother's death. He lingered alone in his room on that day like he usually did. He would mope around, look at pictures for hours on end, cry. Jesus would switch from resting on the bed to sitting at his computer. He was doing just that when Martin came rushing into his bedroom, his hair dishevelled and scratches running wildly down his face.
"Pack up, now. They found us." There was something off in his voice, it trembled. Martin's voice never faltered. He looked panicked, afraid, something about him scared Jesus.
"What happened? We can't leave. Dad, what about Joan?" Jesus asked, getting off his bed.
It tugged at Martin's heart. That word. Dad. He had made the mistake of letting Jesus get close to a girl. He would never make that same mistake. "We don't have time to argue about this, Jesus. We knew this could happen. Look at my face Jesus. Now imagine what they would do with you."
"I'm not going. They can try and take me -" Jesus started, a slight rise in his voice.
"Don't you ever speak like that, Jesus," his uncle cut him off, "we are not like them. We don't hurt people." Martin spoke with authority, one that Jesus knew very well to respect. "Five minutes, Jesus. I'll be downstairs."
Martin nodded and looked at Jesus, waiting for his nod of approval. Jesus finally subsided and nodded. He sighed and began to gather the essentials. He lingered a while longer even when Martin began to shout at him to hurry up. He couldn't keep his eyes off of the photo beside his bed; the one with Joan. They were at the Santa Monica pier.
"Come on, cowboy. Let's go!" Martin shouted from down the stairs. Jesus scanned his room one more time. He shut off the lights and ran down the stairs.
Martin was at the door, a few bags in his hands. He wore the usual getaway gear; black pants, black vest. Nothing out of the ordinary. "When I tell you five minutes, I mean it," he said when Jesus finally reached the landing.
"Where are we going this time?" Jesus asked.
"The only place that's safe," he paused to open the door, "we're going back home."
The news struck Jesus and paralyzed him momentarily. He had never imagined going back there after what happened. Surely Martin was mistaken, he couldn't possibly want to go back there. People had seen what he had done; how he healed the man's sight. They would expose him and Jesus knew the consequences of being exposed.
"We can't go back there, dad. They know about me." Jesus protested, dropping his bags on the floor.
"An old friend has decided to help us. She's very persuasive. If we stay here any longer they will catch you, Jesus, and then they'll kill me." Martin said, very matter-of-factly.
Jesus knew what they were capable of. He couldn't dispute what Martin was saying. If he said they had to go, he was serious about it. Jesus sighed and walked out of the house and Martin followed behind. They got into the car and took off.
"Come on, cowboy. Let's go!" Martin shouted from down the stairs. Jesus scanned his room one more time. He shut off the lights and ran down the stairs.
Martin was at the door, a few bags in his hands. He wore the usual getaway gear; black pants, black vest. Nothing out of the ordinary. "When I tell you five minutes, I mean it," he said when Jesus finally reached the landing.
"Where are we going this time?" Jesus asked.
"The only place that's safe," he paused to open the door, "we're going back home."
The news struck Jesus and paralyzed him momentarily. He had never imagined going back there after what happened. Surely Martin was mistaken, he couldn't possibly want to go back there. People had seen what he had done; how he healed the man's sight. They would expose him and Jesus knew the consequences of being exposed.
"We can't go back there, dad. They know about me." Jesus protested, dropping his bags on the floor.
"An old friend has decided to help us. She's very persuasive. If we stay here any longer they will catch you, Jesus, and then they'll kill me." Martin said, very matter-of-factly.
Jesus knew what they were capable of. He couldn't dispute what Martin was saying. If he said they had to go, he was serious about it. Jesus sighed and walked out of the house and Martin followed behind. They got into the car and took off.
- Chapter 10 -
On The Road
The sky was sparkling bright with stars the first night they hit the road. Jesus was struggling to fall asleep in his twisted uncomfortable position. It wasn't easy catching z's in the back of a pick up truck. They had managed to sell their previous sedan and were fortunate enough to stumble upon this '93 Ford Ranger. Martin had driven south most of the day. They finally decided to sleep a bit before heading on the road again.
Their location was a rundown truck-stop diner. They had gotten a quick bite to eat, borrowed the showering facility and then nestled the best they could in the cab of the Ranger. Jesus was twisting and turning, trying to position himself comfortably. He knew Martin was awake, making sure Jesus would fall asleep first. Images of his girlfriend, Joan Archer, were running through his mind.
He had barely spoken all day, still angered by their sudden departure. Jesus knew the consequences of staying there, he simply couldn't grasp why he had to be the one to lead this life. He hadn't asked to be leader of a unknown mission twisted with secrets and deception. He simply wanted to lead a normal life. God had chosen a different path for him, though.
He was playing around with his hands, lighting the tips of his fingers and removing the rust on the small patch of metal that had been welded in the corner of the cab. He had first learned of this special ability when helping a man back in his hometown, the same town they were heading to. The villagers, those who had learned of what Jesus had done, had decided to scare them out of town.
This news of a kid with special powers took flight with no looking back. Soon media reporters from around the world were beckoning. People wanted to meet the boy who could heal the world. Martin was upset about this, frightened even. He knew this would finally attract the opposition he always feared: The Sacarii.
They were an elite cadre of assassins, hell bent on proving destiny was in their hands, and not the other way around. They had been following them since Jesus' birth and adoption in the hands of Martin Christ.
Their leader and members were unknown to the Agency, the group that was helping and protecting Jesus.
Those two groups had been at war for centuries, and it came at no surprise to Martin when he eventually learned of their goals to twart the prophecy.
He was thinking about just that when Jesus finally spoke, for the first time that christmas day.
"You promised you would tell me the name of the prophetess who predicted what I would become, what I would do. You promised me to tell me the truth on my sixteenth birthday," Jesus said, turning over to face Martin, "You promised to tell me everything"
"And that is something I regret, Jesus." Martin's voice trailed off, a slight lump passing visibly down his throat. If the trucks weren't rolling into the diner's parking lot, Jesus would have heard the gulp of Martin's harsh swallow. "Telling you will only put you in more danger then you already are."
"Isn't it my right to know this? I have been in the dark most of my life. Finally I have the chance to know more about myself, about what I am suppose to do"
"If I tell you, you will spend your days trying to find her. I don't want you putting your life at risk, Jesus."
Jesus processed what his uncle had just said. He wanted to know the truth for once. He wanted the name of the women who predicted his final mission. She was the key to ending all of this, to make things right, to tell him that this was all a lie, a dream, that we would wake up and be a normal boy. She was the answer to life.
"It has already happened, dad. Prophecy. Destiny. I am suppose to do this as predicted by a seer. It basically happened already, nothing we do will change that. Maybe you were suppose to tell me. Maybe i'm suppose to visit her." Jesus pleaded, getting up from his resting position and looking out at the stars. It was warm in the south, something Jesus wasn't use to on Christmas day. On his birthday.
"Thinking like that will only get you killed. A prophecy is only as good as it's key players. Be humble, Jesus. You'll appreciate me hiding this information from you in the long run."
"Doesn't matter. I die anyways." Jesus grunted, a distinct finality in his tone. He was done for the night, and showed this by turning over and closing his eyes. "Goodnight, Martin"
He was thinking about just that when Jesus finally spoke, for the first time that christmas day.
"You promised you would tell me the name of the prophetess who predicted what I would become, what I would do. You promised me to tell me the truth on my sixteenth birthday," Jesus said, turning over to face Martin, "You promised to tell me everything"
"And that is something I regret, Jesus." Martin's voice trailed off, a slight lump passing visibly down his throat. If the trucks weren't rolling into the diner's parking lot, Jesus would have heard the gulp of Martin's harsh swallow. "Telling you will only put you in more danger then you already are."
"Isn't it my right to know this? I have been in the dark most of my life. Finally I have the chance to know more about myself, about what I am suppose to do"
"If I tell you, you will spend your days trying to find her. I don't want you putting your life at risk, Jesus."
Jesus processed what his uncle had just said. He wanted to know the truth for once. He wanted the name of the women who predicted his final mission. She was the key to ending all of this, to make things right, to tell him that this was all a lie, a dream, that we would wake up and be a normal boy. She was the answer to life.
"It has already happened, dad. Prophecy. Destiny. I am suppose to do this as predicted by a seer. It basically happened already, nothing we do will change that. Maybe you were suppose to tell me. Maybe i'm suppose to visit her." Jesus pleaded, getting up from his resting position and looking out at the stars. It was warm in the south, something Jesus wasn't use to on Christmas day. On his birthday.
"Thinking like that will only get you killed. A prophecy is only as good as it's key players. Be humble, Jesus. You'll appreciate me hiding this information from you in the long run."
"Doesn't matter. I die anyways." Jesus grunted, a distinct finality in his tone. He was done for the night, and showed this by turning over and closing his eyes. "Goodnight, Martin"
- Chapter 11 -
Duty and Honour
The morning sun was creeping up over the mountains. It illuminated the meadow that surrounded the beat up pickup truck. The bright light warmed the soft skin of Jesus' eyelids. He opened his eyes, adjusted his sight to the glowing landscape and shifted in his sleeping bag. His growth spurt was apparent by his awkward crouched position within the sac. He fit easily inside a few years ago.
"It's time you change that sleeping bag, cowboy" Martin said as she approached the pickup, fresh fruits in hand.
Jesus sat up and catched a ripe orange just in time. He smiled and his blue eyes sparkled. The roadside dinners could make excellent fried food but what Jesus craved the most was the juice of a fresh fruit. He inhaled the fragrant smell of the orange as he peeled off the skin.
"You look famished" Martin laughed between bites off his own orange.
"It's been a while since we had these" Jesus answered back.
They remained quiet, enjoying the early morning breeze and the sounds of the wild birds. Jesus couldn't help but to think of Joan, of her silky blonde hair, of her smile that curved just slightly when she looked at him. Going back to his hometown was something Jesus wasn't looking forward to. So many secrets were kept there, memories trapped in time.
"What you said last night had me thinking," Martin said, finally breaking the silence. He rested his back against the truck, he golden locks enhanced by the rising sun. He looked at Jesus, "When we get to Bethlehem, I'll tell you everything you need to know about everything."
Jesus was apprehensive; Martin had made such promises before with no rate of succes. He threw the remains of his orange to the ground and proceeded to roll up his sleeping baf. He kept a watchful eye on Martin.
"Why the sudden change of heart?" Jesus asked.
"I made a promise long time ago, Jesus," Martin started, "One I have to honour. Our past and our future depends on that."
"Depends on what? You telling me the truth?"
"Our fate is in your hands, Jesus. It's all I can say for now. Everything I have done has been to protect you. That is my duty, and you have to understand that."
Jesus placed all of his stuff in the corner of the truck them jumped to the ground. "That's what you always say and then I never get any form of follow up. I am not a kid anymore! I don't need your protection!"
"I know you aren't. And that's why i'll explain everything once we get to Bethlehem. We'll be safe there." Martin replied as he got inside the pick-up.
Jesus sighed and hopped in the passenger side. He knew he would only get half-answers from Martin. It would most likely only get worst once they got back to Bethlehem. Martin was always secretive, even with his brothers, Malcom and Michael. No way would he discuss prophecies, secret organizations, and abilities in front of them.
They took off on the country road, the sun blazing behind them. After nine long years on the run, they were finally heading back home. This was suppose to be a moment to rejoice. But Jesus felt a chill in the air, a tingle in his spine. Something was about to go terribly wrong...
"It's been a while since we had these" Jesus answered back.
They remained quiet, enjoying the early morning breeze and the sounds of the wild birds. Jesus couldn't help but to think of Joan, of her silky blonde hair, of her smile that curved just slightly when she looked at him. Going back to his hometown was something Jesus wasn't looking forward to. So many secrets were kept there, memories trapped in time.
"What you said last night had me thinking," Martin said, finally breaking the silence. He rested his back against the truck, he golden locks enhanced by the rising sun. He looked at Jesus, "When we get to Bethlehem, I'll tell you everything you need to know about everything."
Jesus was apprehensive; Martin had made such promises before with no rate of succes. He threw the remains of his orange to the ground and proceeded to roll up his sleeping baf. He kept a watchful eye on Martin.
"Why the sudden change of heart?" Jesus asked.
"I made a promise long time ago, Jesus," Martin started, "One I have to honour. Our past and our future depends on that."
"Depends on what? You telling me the truth?"
"Our fate is in your hands, Jesus. It's all I can say for now. Everything I have done has been to protect you. That is my duty, and you have to understand that."
Jesus placed all of his stuff in the corner of the truck them jumped to the ground. "That's what you always say and then I never get any form of follow up. I am not a kid anymore! I don't need your protection!"
"I know you aren't. And that's why i'll explain everything once we get to Bethlehem. We'll be safe there." Martin replied as he got inside the pick-up.
Jesus sighed and hopped in the passenger side. He knew he would only get half-answers from Martin. It would most likely only get worst once they got back to Bethlehem. Martin was always secretive, even with his brothers, Malcom and Michael. No way would he discuss prophecies, secret organizations, and abilities in front of them.
They took off on the country road, the sun blazing behind them. After nine long years on the run, they were finally heading back home. This was suppose to be a moment to rejoice. But Jesus felt a chill in the air, a tingle in his spine. Something was about to go terribly wrong...
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