Eleven's Ink on... Letting Go and How Hard it Is To Do.

I often get asked how I feel about one topic or another. I am very opinionated and tend to be a bit more verbose than I should. The fact that I used verbose should be an indicator. The fact that I explained why is just proof beyond proof.


WTF Happened?!
So you just said goodbye to a friend, a lover, an important person in your life, and you're trying to assess the information. You re-read the texts, the FB messages; you grab at all the pieces that fell and try to assemble the puzzle. You think you have the answers, but every answer leads to another question. Did I end it? Did they end it? How did it come to this? You Google search "How to cope with endings" and "How to start anew" simultaneously until you realise that a Netflix Marathon is a hell of a better idea.

It's totally fine. I'm okay, I swear. KILL ME NOW!

You've had your first night's sleep. You probably slept like a baby cause your mind totally warped at the end of the season 3 finale of Dexter. You're most likely groggy and - OMG YOU JUST REMEMBER THAT YOUR RELATIONSHIP/FRIENDSHIP/KINSHIP ENDED. It's fine, you say. You calm yourself down and decide a shower is perfect to wash away the memories. Totally fine, right? Wrong, and cue the thought process: "how the fuck did this happen? Why aren't they texting me? Should I text them? No, no I'm totally fine. Don't cry, don't cry. Smile! Omg I'm crying. No I'm fine!" You basically want to place your own crazy self in an asylum for weeks on weeks to numb out the pain.

But everything was perfect!
You've gathered the puzzle pieces, but the end result does not resemble the picture on the box at all. You've accepted that it's your fault, their fault, your fault, their fault, and now you just want to plump on the couch with jalapeno pizza and forget it all. But you see their face in one of  the jalapeno slices. And the melted cheese reminds you of a steamy night you had with them. Oh and that fucking marinara sauce smells exactly like them!! And you finish by throwing the pizza on the wall and remembering just how magical everything was. The laughter, the excitement, the sharing of stories. What was so horrible about it?!?!?!


I'm the bomb.

You're done agonizing over whose to blame, why you're feeling crazy, and you've removed the rose-coloured glasses and guess what? It's time to take a selfie! You've lost weight, you went to the gym, you've been getting a shit-load of compliments and you're starting to feel awesomazing about yourself. The mission at this point is to cause as much accidents on the road as possible cause you just know people are swervin' and dodgin' over your looks.

BOOM. Explosion!

It's been like three days now and this whole process is amazing. You're glowing, you're flexing your muscles (guys), your pushing up that bra (girls), and you're moving on. Cause you look flawless, right? Wrong. All that excitement has finally fizzled and you're about to explode. This is the part where you throw everything of theirs in the trash, write obscene thoughts down in which you fantasize about murdering the bejesus out of them. You can also punch pillows and shit but for maximum effect, invest in a punching bag.

Should I or shouldn't I, that is the question.

You're passed out in pizza slices with wine and vodka stains all over the god damn floor. You're a mess. You've slept through the last four episodes of Dexter. You haven't showered in well over three days and it's starting to show. You've basically lost all sense of survival; get it together. In your mind, getting it together means accepting that it ended but HELLO, that's not what you want. You desperately search for your cellphone and think you found it when in reality, it's the TV remote. You panic. You NEED to reach them to let them know that it's all a mistake, everything will be okay and let's just forget this happen, k? K.

Yeah, no. Then you realise that this is all one-sided. "What if they don't want the same thing? What if they don't reply? What if they blocked your number? What if they laugh when they see how much you're still caught up?" You look at your phone, you've typed the message already (we're on the same page here, readers. I'm living this - you can't deny it.) and you're thumb is so close to the send button that your fingerprints can basically scratch the surface of your phone. And then you think: "But what if they feel the same? What If they are only waiting for me to write back? Maybe they're just shy or scared of what is going to happen." What to do, right?!


I'll just subtlety let you know I'm still alive. I'll be over here if you change your mind.
I cringe cause I did this. But hey, we're only human right! You've obviously decided NOT to contact the person cause "I'm such a strong individual." The phone is down, but not for long. Instead, you've switched on the Wi-Fi and liked their latest Instagram photo, you poked them on FB, and you shamelessly retweeted their last tweet about popcorn being the best snack out there. You want to tell them you miss them so much but are so afraid of the reaction that you go on this crazy tangent of just creeping the fuck out of them. Don't. Do. This. Go back to Netflix and dirty pizza slices.


Snap back to reality
It's been close to a week by now and you haven't lost all your hair. Your local mall is still up and running. The sky is still blue and Rob Ford is still mayor of Toronto. Clearly, the world didn't end. You decide it's time to shower and shut off Netflix (but omg what will happen in season 8 of Dexter?!?!). You're still talking about them but less frequently. You have occasional bursts of tears and you question absolutely everything. But you've slowly started realising the world outside again. You see people smiling back at you; children waving as you walk by them, head down and solemn. The sun is even peaking to say a short yet welcomed "hello!". You feel like things can get slowly get back to how it was before.


LOL, life's a bitch - it ain't this easy

And then a week and one day passes and you repeat the process. Oh you thought it was over? LOL, life doesn't work that way. If life was easy the saying wouldn't be "Life's a bitch", it would be "Life's a slut." But it ain't easy. There is no recipe for success, or shortcuts to happiness. You have to balance yourself out again and it can take time. So take it, enjoy it, live it. Cry it out, talk it out, laugh it out. The worst thing you can do is censor your emotions for whatever reason: "Because guys don't cry." "Because I want to show him I'm a lady." "Because I don't want them to see me weep." The relationship is over, so worry about yourself and what you have to do to move on and be happy. Life is short, love again.

But...But...But...

There is not but. There is just life and their is time. And both need you right now. It's tempting as fuck to drop everything and rekindle but what if it is worst? What if the person moved on already? What if you're already a memory? Sure it could also be: What if they miss me too? What if they are waiting for my call? But the key words here are: What if?

You don't know. You can't know. It's up to you to decide if you want to put yourself out there or not and risk getting hurt again. It can also be the complete opposite and you might find them responsive to your request. Take a chance if you want. Or don't if that is what you choose. It's a personal decision but hopefully you found laughter and a bit of truth in this blog post. It definitely made me feel better.

If you need to talk or feel alone and have no one to talk to, feel free to contact me. You can find me on facebook by clicking the link on the right or on twitter at @Elevensink or on instagram at @K_kiddo86. You can also leave a comment on here.


Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink.

Eleven's Ink on...Awesomeness!

I often get asked how I feel about one topic or another. I am very opinionated and tend to be a bit more verbose than I should. The fact that I used verbose should be an indicator. The fact that I explained why is just proof beyond proof.


WTF?!:

It takes a lot for me to qualify someone as being genuinely "awesome". There is a trial part where I generally just groove around someone to get a sense of how their fun gravitates around their logic. It's all about balance really: equal parts intelligence, equal parts humour. You need to have both to be worthy of this title.


LOL!!:

Once the X is matched neatly with the Y and a yingyang of LAUGHS! and BRAINS! is created, that is when you start to see the foundation of awesomeness. It's such a fantastic event to witness, this creation of sheer awesomeness. I suggest you bring sunglasses and a bit of wine along for the ride. You've been warned.



OMG!!:
The best part of this trifecta is, you gots it baby, the climax! That is when you see the "ok i'm cool" blossom into "Move bitch, i'm awesome". Seeing that state progress in its natural habitat is rare and should be taken advantage of. Film it, snap a picture - hey draw the fucking event if you have Picasso's talents! Don't have talent? Smudge paint on a canvas like a three year old and call it art. As long as you remember vividly the details of witnessing such perfection.


XOX!!:

Once you've explored the universe of awesomeness, assured it's capabilities of life-support, and landed on Planet Fuck Yeah!, then you are good to remove gear and appreciate the land of awesome. Feel the earth, breathe in the air, run through the meadows, and swim across those oceans of joy and excitement. Be happy that you landed on a planet that welcomes your kind. Be awesome!





Not feeling awesome today? Think of good memories, good people, good food. Think about how awesome you are every other day and how today is going to be jealous. You don't want that. So be awesome again!

Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink

Heartbreak: Not Only For Couples

This is an honest account about how I dealt with losing someone I cared about. It is not a piece to belittle that person. I value and respect what once was. I wrote this in hope that maybe ONE person will be able to identify with this. As I had no one to look up to or talk to about this.



I haven't written a personal blog in a while!  I will literally just write my thoughts down as I go along. It will not be structured, and most likely not coherent. I think the last time I published a journal was when I had a terrible fight with my sister - *goes to check* - Yup, that was the last time. Wow, so much happened since then and I can't help but to think that things got better because of it. When two people have a disagreement or a falling out, two things can happen:

• You can take the time to learn from the experience and grow, change, evolve.
• You can internalize it, feed in what people think of you, and rot from the inside. 

If you are like me, you probably chose the first bullet point. Who wants to rot from the inside, right? This is the reason I am writing this personal experience of mine and sharing it with the world. Maybe someone else will relate and not feel as alone as I did. There is a lot of blogs out there for women to relate to but there is not much for us men. And men are humans, hence we have hearts and obviously, heartbreaks. So here is my story:

Context:

I have been a free agent most of my life. I don't search for nor idealize commitment. Not in the traditional sense. I believe in loyalty, respect, and love. But do I, personally, believe that two people can truly stay committed? No - because love, like sexuality, is fluid. It is constantly changing, constantly evolving. Is it possible for two people to evolve together, though? Absolutely! I never gave 100% of my heart and trust to anyone, in fear of being hurt, of being abandoned; Of being on that other end of change and evolution.

I met someone who changed all of that. I met someone who made me feel like they understood that part of me. I considered this person a friend first, a confident second, and then a lover. Maybe you had someone like this in your life? Someone who didn't need a title for affirmation, but just needed someone to understand them. Nobody needed to know, nobody needed to understand. Because we knew, we understood. You feel a bond so strong that even the most resilient army would fall at your feet. I had never met someone like this. 

And so as time flew, and the nest of comfort grew bigger, so did my emotions. As is only natural. I love my friends. All of them equally. The reason for my love changes from one to another, but everyone in my life is loved equally. 

Everything (at least on my end) was going good. We had a rough patch where I suggested we remain just friends without the added complications. I was a lot more clued in to what was happening then I let on. I could feel detachment, guilt, and something else, something I couldn't put my finger on. I am always willing to change my relationships if it means building a stronger bond. Again, I believe in evolution. Stagnation is for mosquitoes. But if you've been in this situation or currently living a similar situation, you know that the "just friends" title will not be taken seriously on one side or the other*. 

We reconnected once more after that (*told you so). To say that it was one of the best nights of my life is not even giving it justice. I felt warm, I felt loved, I felt understood without pressure. I felt like this was a friend for life. I felt like I had found someone who would enjoy this part of life with me, for however long it lasted. We were goofy, we were having fun! I knew it wasn't going to last. They knew too. But I was happy living that moment, knowing that this would most likely be the best chapter in my life. I suggested we see each other again the following Sunday and to my surprise I was invited for the whole weekend. I was elated. I was happy and excited to spend some time with someone I valued and appreciated so much. And for once, I felt that they valued me as much as I valued them: as a human, looking for understanding. There was only a few days left to the weekend when everything changed.

The End 

I will go through the emotions as I experienced them, in that specific order. I will avoid major details because nobody needs the details. I hope you can relate though with how I felt, and maybe it can help you find closure as well.
 

Confusion:

 I was not ready for what happened. I did not see it coming (although part of me was terrified that it would end like this - a fear I had expressed to the other party.) when that call came in on the Wednesday night (or was it a Thursday? You also lose track of time, apparently) I felt like my world had shattered. They were drunk, announcing irrational news, making false assumptions about my emotions and my intentions  My emotions were not only discarded, but almost stomped on. I was made to feel like it was my own fault that I got attached, that hearing their life story was not a valid reason to feel connected; as if sharing so many memories, stories, laughs, and intimate moments didn't warrant my worrying. My friend's backstory and drunken state when the phone rang left me in a panic. I was worried, sad, but most of all, I was confused.

I didn't know what was going on? I couldn't understand their reaction, I couldn't understand what was happening to them? This news was just dumped on me and then I was expected to rationalize it, without question, without worry. As if I wasn't a human, a friend. This is how confusion begins. You are meant to see a side of someone until they can't keep up anymore. You are shown a world that doesn't exist. And when that world shatters, it hurts. And then everything is left in the air for you to grasp and remove responsibility from THEIR hands. Do not take that responsibility. Do not ask questions. Do not dive into waters that were troubled and gloomy before the storm even arrived. I tried so hard to explain that I even understood why they were angry at me. That's how compassion works. When you can look at your actions and accept that they weren't always the best for the other person. That was sadly not reciprocated.   

I spent countless hours and sleepless nights trying to figure out why they couldn't open up to me NOW, when they had opened up to me so much before. I had heard this person in every state imagineable: confused, sad, angry. Why were they blocking me out, now? This question bothered me for days, prevented me from sleeping and working and just plain living. It was eating me inside.

Sadness:
Once the confusion subsided and I kinda felt like I've got some answers (because let's be honest, they don't want to give you answers, that'll hurt THEM too much. They don't want to think about it - remember, they are removing the responsibility from the equation. They leave it up to you to figure everything out.) that is when the sadness kicks in. I remembered the way we met, how we cultivated our likes and our dislikes, the laughter, the jokes, the tricks, the adventure, the compassion, the grins, the fun, the lust. Everything comes flooding back. I remembered being there, unconditionally, because my heart ached when their heart ached. We had shared similar stories. That is sympathy. And it is NOT excluded from friendship.

My heart tugged and I cried on more occasions that I'd be glad to admit. I felt ripped apart. I couldn't watch TV, couldn't listen to music. I stopped cleaning, stopped eating. I surrounded myself with friends, the true kind that accept it all in the name of love. My couch really was my savior and my best friend. (love you, couch ♥) Everything good that had happened had been somehow tainted on their side. I had been painted as something bad, something to be eliminated. I stopped asking questions about why. I didn't need to know anymore. I knew that their sadness and their pain needed to be evacuated. Maybe they didn't remember, but I held onto every single tear that person shed, every single word that pained them. I was ready to be a shield for that, to absorb anything and everything and say: **Tell me everything bad, tell me how you feel, scream at ME like you would scream at those who hurt you. I can take it, cause I care.** It made me sad that instead of using this to vent and to let the bad out, it was used to hurt me, to insult me and belittle me. The pain in some can be so deep and so cruel that they feel the need for you to feel that way too.

Don't be sad. Don't doubt yourself. Don't take it personally. Cherish the good moments, value the relationship like an adult. If you felt good, if you felt right at that time, do not turn around and discredit your emotions. Don't shame your memories. Be glad you had good moments with someone. Regardless of the outcome. Not everyone has the power to do this, but if you're like me and you love too much, keep this thought in mind. Keep that love growing because maybe they still feel it. And maybe it will help them find solace.

Anger
This is the tricky one. I've had to let go of relationships before and maybe the reason this one hurts so much is because it fell apart for no valid reasons. There was no effort made, there was no drama, no fights to invite this kind of outcome. I end all my relationships on a positive note now that I'm an adult. And since I had no closure on my confusion and had to make up my own scenario of why this happened, and that my sadness was brought upon a situation I had little to no control over, anger settled in like desperate Europeans in the time of colonization.

I was angry at myself for not reacting the way THEY wanted me to react. I was angry at them for being so evasive of my questions, my RIGHT to now what I did to cause so much pain to them. From my point of view, I was more than an okay friend. And when you start listing off the things YOU did for the relationship VS what THEY did for the relationship, that is pretty much when anger reaches it's boiling point. Especially when you (I'm assuming if you made it this far, you relate as a "person who loves too much") invested so much in someone. All I wanted in return was respect and appreciation, as do most of us who love too much. We accept that we love too much. We just want respect back. It made me angry that they weren't listening to me but asking me to listen to them. I was angry that they were calling me a hater and a ho when they were the one with bad habits and hurting people in the midst of it. I was angry that I was being told I couldn't understand as if I was a child, when I was standing there, broken hearted, ready to absorb all of the anger they possessed while having my own emotions, my own words twisted around and used against me. Understanding is a two way street. It made me angry that I was being completely pushed aside, as if I was nothing more than a fuck and a dreamcatcher. Absorbing all the dark and emitting nothing but light. It made me angry that I thought that everything they were telling me was for a reason, when in fact, it was for game. I was angry that I had fallen in the spider's lair.

Live that anger. But don't let it live in you. People separate emotions in two categories: bad emotions and good emotions. In fact, ALL emotions are healthy when expressed correctly. So weigh your words, think of what you want to say, remain honest but humble and polite. Like my idol Lana Del Rey muses in one of her songs: "It's fine if you're hateful, just as long as you remain grateful". Some people get so angry and are so used to being neglected for it that they assume the worst. They don't know what a good relationship is. It's easier for them to dump on you and leave then stay to see how you react. They don't care that it can get better, they only focus on their own mistakes and how you might leave them for it. They don't understand that you're there regardless. And that made me so angry. If you are willing to put up with anything, like I had, then do it. Strive for it. Forgive the lies, the shadiness, the plotholes, the unnecessary grievance. Forgive it all. But when the person tears down the wall, assume no responsability. You only cared and they LOVED that you cared until it became too much for them. Not for you. When someone assumes the worst in you, seek out the answer. That is your right to know. Don't forget it. Even if the person decides to cut you out. I am letting go of my anger, my confusion, and my sadness through this.

Acceptance
This right here, ladies and gents! This is the tough part. I didn't want to accept it. To me, accepting it was accepting defeat. That I wasn't good enough to help, that I had to change to please this person. **Why can't they see I care? This is making me sad. OMG NOW IM ANGRY** And when the confusion passed (trust me, once anger settles in, who the fuck thinks about confusion?) and the sadness (which right now I feel like will last forever), and that you managed and controlled your anger (omg I'm imagining the things I would have done if I had NO self-control over my mind and respect - still, imagine - for the other person), you get to the point where you just accept it. I accepted that this was not the healthiest of relationships. I accepted that my love and understanding was no longer welcomed. I accepted that I was just another pawn in their game.  It's hard to accept but I promise it gets better. Look in the mirror, really look, and think of all the people you met in your life. Think of all the nice things they said about you, how they smiled and cherished your presence. Those are the people who will help you get through the hurting and the grieving. Not the person who caused it. Do not search for acceptance from him or her. I did and I swear it was the biggest mistake I made in all of this. It just made me repeat this cycle all over again.

This is the point where you repeat this to yourself: they aren't necessarily a bad person. But I was treated badly. And I can't forget that. I can't white-wash it because the other person had "reasons" to be mean. It doesn't come easy to all, and sometimes it doesn't come at all, but I accept that I made bad choices in my life, I talk about them freely. I am not saying this to be pompous, I am saying this for people to relate and understand where I am coming from. Communication is key. It always was and always will. I talk about the bad that was done, doesn't mean I think the person is bad.

What helped (and is still helping, this is all very fresh to me) was having my friends around me. What made it tougher for me is that the relationship was not one that I could talk about openly. If you're living this type of relationship, be careful. I was okay with it - as stated above, I felt no need to share or define what we had because it just was, great and vast and amazing - but now that it is over, it is hard to process and digest without the thoughts and input of others. I value other people's emotions and experience so, so much. Being vague about what is happening can be ten times more debilitating. Just remember not to hurt the other person. They are not hurting you because they want to, they are hurting you because they don't know any better. Remind them of why you were there, why you cared. Remind them that life is good, that they are good people. If they are hurting someone they just said they cared about, then they must be hurting. A lot. Keep that in mind. Even if they keep swearing and cursing at you. It may change nothing, but never stop giving it your all. Be yourself. Do what you would have wanted them to do for you. It's not about being perfect, it's about being compassionate. It's about understanding where YOU come from and also understanding where THEY come from, regardless of it they recognize that or not. At the end of the day, you are the one resting your head and living with your thoughts. Just make sure they're good. Be proud that you are strong enough to support both of you. Even when the other decides that it never happened that way. Denial is a bad fruit, one that rots once you ingest it. Don't eat it, even when offered.

Outcome
I feel like I just wrote everything so fast that it doesn't make sense. But then again, this whole situation seems out of this world to me. I talk as if my emotions have passed but I'm still hurting. I'm no longer confused, nor sad, nor angry. I guess I can say I'm a mix of all three, but just a bit. I think of all the charity work I did, all the people I listened to and helped along my perilous road called Kevin's Life, of the downs I went through in my early 20's trying so desperately to understand myself. How I had wished to have someone who understood me then like I was for my friend. My friend. It stings a bit writing this. As if it wasn't true, as if it was a character I had written and fell in love with, unable to kill them off or write them out of the story. Admitting you are hurt is not a weakness. It is a strength. Because now you know you have to move on, you have to take that pain and build something with it. Live it but don't let it live in you.

If you love too much, like I do, don't feel bad about it. You'll find a friend, a confident, a lover, whatever, that will accept that. They won't judge you, hate you, bully you, belittle you because of it. They will cherish you, they will say how much they appreciate you, and how much they value your input, care, and understanding. They will do this out of love, and not because they feel it is "kissing someone's ass". Being nice is normal. It is so very normal. To expect kindness is normal. Everything else is not. They will not be afraid to show their dark side, or express anger because they'll know you care. They'll know you will stand by anything. Not everything is perfect, but it doesn't have to be when love is involved. Once you find that person, they will not twist your words around to fit their lies and purpose. I am blessed to say I have many people like this in my life. Is it sad that I couldn't reach that person? Sure it is. Will I beat myself over what-a, could-a, should-a? No, I won't. I gave my all, what more could I have given?


If you've given everything you got, remained yourself, you were nice and polite but firm, then there should be no regrets. Be yourself. Be happy. Be the change you want to see in this world. Live. Laugh. Love. Forgive and forget. And most importantly, do not regret. Leave that to the other person. The one who can't accept that love isn't always easy. It isn't always what we see in movies. Love cannot be defined by relationships, expectations, societal pressure, and boxes that can be checked off. But you, reader, already know that. Because you love too much, like I do.

Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink

 

     

The Rising: The Complete Blog Story

 

 

THE RISING

 

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

 

click on the chapter title to read.

 

Chapter 1: Dark Paradise
Chapter 2: Elvis
Chapter 3: Find My Own  Way
Chapter 4: Last Girl On Earth
Chapter 5: My Best Days
Chapter 6: Teenage Wasteland

Chapter 7: All You Need
Chapter 8: You And Me

 

 

 

 

Candles are out,

Eleven's Ink.

 

 

 

 

 

 



The Rising | Chapter Eight

EIGHT | YOU AND ME

Got a light in your eyes, I can see it
Look into my mind to believe it
-Lana Del Rey


Denson and I are sitting in the living room, the soft glow of the burning logs in the fireplace setting the tone for our conversation. Louis' bright red firetruck rests lazily on the coffee table. The three men who accompany him are outside the door, presumably to keep watch - although I know they are there to prevent me from leaving.

I shift in my seat, my eyes diverting back to Elvis' dark corner; the one he always emerges from. Denson takes a sip from a metal canister and then slips it back into a pouch in his black jacket. The residue leaves a red tint on his lips. He leans back and examines me.

"So how long have you been out here, Katherine?" He asks, my name sounding so foreign on his tongue.

"I want to know where Phillip is." I answer coldly, putting extra emphasis on the little boy's name.

"I can't answer that question, Katherine, because I don't know who Phillip is." Denson says, unfolding his arms from his chest and laying them on the armrest. "Why don't you tell me?"

"He's the boy that was with me. I heard him screaming upstairs!" I jump from my seat but Denson doesn't move, doesn't even seem threatened by me. "What did you guys do to him?"

He nods his head and then looks up at me. "All you had to do was say that Phillip is the boy upstairs." Denson smiles and gets up from the chair. My heart stops and without thinking, I grab onto the man's outstretched hand.

"I want to see him! He's all I have, I need to see him" I say through tears and sobs. In this new world, all I had were those who stuck by me. Maggie. Phillip. They are all that matters and I want them by my side again. I can't walk this wasteland without them. "What did you do to him?!" I  scream, letting go of Denson's hand and backing away.

Through the strands of dirty hair and with tears fogging my view, I spot Elvis standing still behind Denson.

"Elvis!" I run to him and fall on my knees in front of him, not unlike a worshipper of Christ. "Please help me! Please!" I beg like a child, grabbing and pulling frantically on his crisp, white jumpsuit. The King. He stands so proud, looking down at me with such sorrow and sadness. But he doesn't say a word. I confided in him all these times and now he stands in front of me in my darkest hour and he doesn't say a peep. Not a word.

Denson creeps in behind me and rests his hand on my shoulder. I snap around, expecting him to hit me or tie me up but he only carries the same look as Elvis in his eyes. He pities me.

"Don't look at me like that!" I yell, getting to my feet and facing Denson. I can barely recognize my own voice. I feel something stir in the pit of my stomach. Something weird is going on and it is scaring the fuck out of me.

"There's nobody there, Katherine."

"SHUT UP!" I clench my fists and I can feel all of the muscles in my body tense up like a steak does when you cook it too quickly. I'm heating up, I can feel the fire burning in the pit of my stomach like an insatiable hunger.

"Katherine - You have to calm down!" Denson says, his arms extended out in front of him like a negotiator. As if I was the one scaring him. He came into MY cabin and changed MY world. He had no right. "When's the last time you've had some, Katherine? You need - "

"You did this!" I bark through barred teeth, spitting like a mad dog. "You took Maggie! You hurt Phillip!" I grab the wooden table that sits between the chairs and swing it at Denson. The red firetruck falls to the floor and shatters. I run towards the staircase, towards Phillip.

"PHILLIP!"

I make the landing and turn left into Maggie and I's bedroom. The shutters are open again and there's a warm breeze coming in from the barren wasteland. My eyes scan the room until they rest on Phillip, lying on his back on my bed. I run to his side and I kneel down besides the bed.

"Oh Phillip..." He's so pale. I run a hand in his untidy hair and gently tap on his cheeks. I want a response. I want him to open his eyes. "Phillip!" Move. Breath. Phillip, why won't you move.

And then Denson's voice echoes behind me. "He's dead, Katherine. So is she."

Dead? She? But...I look over to Maggie's bed and find it with her lying in it. Still and peaceful. And pale. As if she had been drained of her blood.

"Maggie!" I can't stop crying and can barely say her name. Gooseflesh run along the sides of my arm like wild horses chasing after game. I go to her side and lay down beside her. I brush a few white hairs away from her eyes and seeing her makes me smile. She's finally back. I lose myself to the blissful feeling that rushes inside me at the sight of Maggie and completely forget that Denson is here. That Phillip is dead. That Maggie is dead.

"They're..." I turn towards Denson, "...dead?" I say the words but I can't bring myself to believe them. It can't be. I must have been poisoned by the air outside. That must be it. "I'm hallucinating," I whisper it, almost to myself. I run my hand through my hair, tugging at it just a bit to make sure I'm not dreaming.

Denson snickers and cocks his eyebrow. "That's funny."

"What did you say?"

"Oh, I just said how funny your last comment was. You see, we've been watching this place for weeks now, Katherine, and do you know what we saw a lot of? We saw a lot of you talking with nobody -"

He keeps talking but I don't hear him. I hear Louis, laughing because we just surprised him on his sixth birthday...

*****

"Happy birthday Louis!" I say, kneeling down to his height. He smiles as I hand him his present.

"What is it?" He asks, unable to remain calm.

"Open it and see!"

Louis drops to the floor with the box in front of him and proceeds to tear at the wrapping paper. I laugh while mom takes a polaroid shot of the moment Louis sees the red firetruck. He squeals and jumps in my arms.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

Louis' tight embrace leaves me almost breathless but I manage to say: "I'm glad you like it!"

Mom walks into the living room with my other brother beside her. He's always beside her. "Okay now it's Phillip's turn to give you his present. Go on, Phillip." My mom says, whisking my brother towards Louis.

Just as Phillip hands his present to Louis, my dad walks in the living room with the phone in his hands. "It's for you." He says, slurring his words. He'd obviously been drinking. Louis, Phillip, and I stop what we're doing to watch.

Mom gives him the evil eye and grabs the phone. "Hello. Oh, hi Maggie. You still picking up the kids tonight? Great. See you soon." She hangs up, and all three of us are looking at her.

"Don't all look so excited." She says sarcastically. "I thought you loved spending time with Granma?"

"We do," Phillip says and turns towards me, blood dripping from his mouth. "It's just that Katherine's going to kill her. And then she's going to kill me."

I go to shout, to say something but I find my voice lost. The room starts to spin and my vision becomes blurry as if I was the one drunk. Mom goes out of focus and I stumble forward and fall onto the wood floor, right at Denson's feet.

I roll over and crawl towards the wall. My stomach churns and I feel like I'm going to vomit. I lean against the wall and tuck my knees in.

"What just happened..." I say, shaking all over, from within.

Denson inches forward, excitement in his eyes. "Did you just remember your old life?"

"Yes." I answer calmly. I'm in shock; This isn't making any sense. They're not my family. We just met. "I didn't kill them! He says I did, but I didn't. I couldn't." I look over at the beds where they lay quiet and still as stars in the night's sky.

"You did kill them Katherine," Denson says as he approaches me. His words stab me in the heart. I look up at him and I don't see malice in his eyes, but rather concern. "When we found this cabin two weeks ago they were already dead. You went out exploring one day and we searched the place, found these two bodies. They were your family, am I correct? Blood had been drained from both their bodies and that's when we knew." His eyes meet mine and a smirk appears on his face.

"That's when you knew what?" I say, forcing the words out because I'm starting to figure it out. All of those memories I've supressed are all coming back to me in rapid, succesive flashes.

Granma Maggie, picking us up at home. We had to leave Louis because he had eaten too much cake and wasn't feeling well. Before leaving, he had handed me his firetruck. Then the Great Shake happened while we were on a long deserted stretch of highway. The earth shook and cracked all around us. We were safe on what we later called Highway Island. We were surrounded by fissures and fountains of lava. All we could see for miles was darkness and death. All we had was the car and the little food that was in it. After a few days we had to leave. And that's when we encountered the ghostly figures for the first time.

They were just like us in appearance but they were also shadows, unable to walk in our world as they were still bound to the one they called home. At first they stayed away from us and as we trekked our way over and around the new landscaped of our Earth, they slowly started approaching us. A month after the Great Shake, we were attacked in the night. I was attacked.

When I woke I was different. I felt a tightening in my stomach and had sudden urges to feed an ever growing appetite. It was devouring me from the inside. Granma Maggie, Phillip, and I kept on walking and they were oblivious of what had happened to me. On the outside I hadn't changed, but something within me had.

Several days later we found the cabin. We made good of the cans and dried food we found. I ate and I ate but still that tight pressure in my stomach continued to grow. One day, Phillip was sleeping and I was arguing with Maggie downstairs. I can't remember what happened that made me snap but I grabbed the frying pan and smacked it across her head. I cried. I hated myself as I saw the pool of blood forming around her head. The smell of it was intoxicating. My nostrils flared and I felt my stomach tighten like never before. I was so hungry.

"STOP IT!" I yell, zoning back to reality, back to now with Denson. He's looking at me again with that strange expression. "What is it you knew, Denson? What did I do?"

"You and me, we're the same Katherine." He says, smiling. "We're vampires."

The Rising | Chapter Seven

SEVEN | ALL YOU NEED

All you need
Is some peace
While you are here
-Lana Del Rey


I wait outside of the cabin, in the scorching heat as Phillip struggles to leave the place he's come to associate with security and comfort. I keep reassuring him that I'm here, that I won't leave him - but he can't bring himself to step outside. The lava that erupts every so often from the fissures combined with the completly absent landscape and dead vegetation is most likely not helping the situation.

"Phillip, you can't stay there forever. Come on, already." I stomp my foot and cross my arms, as a desperate sign of frustration. Something I never would have been caught dead doing when Earth was still buzzing with life.

"It's..." He looks around, his eyes constantly jetting back to the black skies. "It's...I can't, Katherine. I just can't."

"Phillip! We can't stay here! It's not safe anymore. Those men will find us again!" I gesture for him to step outside but he just shakes his head.

"Why are you afraid of them?! Why can't we just fight them!"

"Because...Because they scare me, Phillip." I drop my pack and let out a deep sigh. This isn't the time for us to fiddle around outside. Those men can be watching us as we speak. "But I'm ready to venture out."

Phillip's eyes suddenly go black and his pupils grow to the size of quarters. He tilts his head and I spot blood around his collar. It seems fresh. He claps his hands togheter and snaps me out of my daze.

"You aren't ready at all." I see a flash of tears and twisted lips before Phillip turns and runs back inside the cabin. I retrieve the small axe from my pack and run in after him.

"Phillip!"

I scan the kitchen and the adjacent rooms quickly, my heart pounding so hard against my chest that I can feel it resonate throughout my body. What the fuck had just happened? For some reason, as my eyes adjust to the dim-lighted cabin, I come to the conclusion that something is off.

"Phillip! Where are you?" I scream out loud, but he doesn't answer. I think back to those dark-roasted eyes settled on me. "Don't leave me alone!" I yell even louder, my fingers clenched togheter in a fist. Tear suddenly break and I crumble to the floor. I sob and dust rises from the wood floors with every shallow breath I take.

I'm alone. Everyone is leaving me.

I crawl towards the corner in front of the staircase and curl myself in a ball, my knees tucked tightly against my chest. My messy hair falls around me as I bury my face in my knees. It feels like the whole room is spinning around me, faster and faster.

"STOP!"

The cabin suddenly starts to shake violently. Old picture frames fall and crash on the floor, as does the vintage chinawear that sits over the counter. The windows rattle and the stairs creak furiously and I just wrap my arms around my knees and bring them in even closer. I don't look.

"STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Voices begin to echo and bounce off the walls. First I hear Maggie, telling me about what happened to Earth when I first woke up. Then Louis, my six year old brother, telling me how much he loves his present. I had bought him a red firetruck with my allowance, I remember it vividly. And just as quickly, Phillip's voice rings out and it is one of distress.

"PHILLIP!" I scream, lifting my head, my eyes opened as wide as quarters. Hair falls sporadically in front of my face, dancing to the rythmn of my heaving. "PHILLIP!"

I jump to my feet as I hear the pleas for help again. It's coming from one of the upstairs bedroom. "PHILLIP!" My feet hit the stairs before I even have time to grab the banister. I reach the second floor landing in three seconds and I immediately go for Phillip's bedroom.

I take a deep breath and open the door. There's nobody there. Just then, another scream comes - from Maggie and I's bedroom. I collect my wits and remember that Phillip is only thirteen. Something is attacking the people that I now call my family and I need to defend them. It took Maggie and now it wants to take Phillip. I won't let it!

"I'm coming Phillip!" Before I even exit Phillip's room, a man appears in the hallway. And it isn't just a random man; it's the one that looked up at me the day Phillip and I were visited. The one with the crisp trenchcoat and the strange look in his eyes. He's holding something in his right hand and it seems to be Louis' firetruck.

"What do you want! Leave us alone!" I scream and back away. That man genuinely scares me. For someone who survived an earthquake of apocalyptic proportions, he's pretty damn clean. Plus, there's something about the way he moves, it's almost snake like. He doesn't seem surprised to see me, I would even say he seems pleased. Our eyes lock and he starts walking towards me.

"How about we start by introducing ourselves?" He says, extending his hand, "My name is Denson."

The Rising | Chapter Six

SIX | TEENAGE WASTELAND

Let's get out of this place,
Cause you're starting to waste,
Within this teenage wasteland.
- Lana Del Rey


The Great Shake has disturbed most of our atmosphere and the rising dust clouds have cast us into a hazy darkness. We are rarely visited by the sun and as I contemplate my ragged state in the bathroom, I notice just how much my pale skin reflects that sad reality.

My conversation with Elvis kept me up most of the night, thinking about strategies and plans for Phillip and myself. I figure our best option would be to leave the cabin and go searching for more profitable grounds, if any still exist. Those four men who found us will surely come back and I don't want us to be here when they do.

I close my pack and head downstairs where Phillip is finishing up the chores around the kitchen. He lifts his head when he hears me and smiles. I smile back and throw my pack on the chair beside him.

"Are you heading out?" He asks me, and puts down his rag. There is genuine concern in his eyes.

"We both are," I start, waiting for his reaction. He only gives me a sideways glance, slightly puzzled by my declaration. "Those men are going to come back. I think I know a place where there are more survivors, we're going to head out there today."

"What do you mean, "other survivors"? Katie, we can't go out there, you told me so yourself." His voice is strained and I can tell he's trying to hide his fear. He's trying to be brave for me and it warms my heart.

"I told you that because that is what Maggie told me - and she isn't here anymore." I see him look away, towards the view outside the window. "I didn't mean it that way, Phillip. It's just...Maybe Maggie was wrong, maybe there is more out there then we know."

When Phillip looks back at me, his eyes are filled with tears and the skin on those puffy little cheeks are turning red. He couldn't play tough any longer. "Katie..."

I run to him."I know it's scary, Phillip. I'm scared too, you don't have to hide it." I get down on one knee and, like Elvis did to me last night, I hold onto Phillip's hand and look into his eyes. "Hey, everything will be okay. I promise you, I'll find us a safe place to live."

He nods and looks away. "Is there any more Mapleroots?" And accompanying his words was a low grumble in his stomach.

I hold him at arm's lenght and smile. "We're going to have to find some. On our own." I answer him, wiping away the tears in his eyes. I get back up on my feet and sling the pack over my shoulder, trying desperately not to display my anxiety. Because I have so much of it building inside me.

What if we don't find anyone? What if I am unable to distinguish what is Mapleroots and what isn't? I've never seen it's original state, only the hot brews that Maggie prepared for us. I've gone out exploring once and it almost got me in trouble when I spotted the people by the fissures. Maggie had warned me about them later, told me to stay away, that they were not what they seemed. It scared me to think what could happen to us out there, in the wastelands.

"Are you ready, Katie?" Phillip asks, tearing me out of my mental exhile.

I take a second to examine him. My Phillip; with his dishevelled hair, his turned up nose, and cute-as-a-button smile. I have to fight for him, to make this new world seem less of a burden on him. We are going to make it.

"Let's go." I say, as calmly as I can.