As the Simulife cable clicked into his spinal socket, Frank knew this would be the last time that his surroundings would be real; the timer was set to the max amount--a year--and he knew, by then, his illness would take him. In his Simulife, he hadn't slept through his youth trying to stall the pain of a broken heart, consumed by his depression, he hadn't attempted to lose himself in the drugs or eat his sorrows away. His parents had not separated from the stress of their failure to raise him, his father had not overdosed in devastation. No, Frank was successful, a multi-millionaire CEO, owner of his own publishing company, and he was in love, but, more importantly, he was loved back. As he laid back in the capsule, the machine whirring softly, the software finishing its loading, his final thought was on his mother. She would miss him, and he regretted that more than anything, but reality was not a place he could bear to live in anymore.

A wave

Our first womb

The primal force

That sloshed and swished

The primordial soup

And from its foam

The first cell formed

God said "Let there be light!"

And there were waves

Of the electromagnetic kind

Without them

We are blind

For they are

Our guide

The language of the mind

Translated in different tongues

Violet, scarlet

Loud, quiet

Near, distant

Tonal, dissonant

Hertz

Doppler

Mozart

Monet

Maxwell

All masters

Of a different dialect

Through waves

We speak our minds

We read the universe

While at the same time

Each letter on paper

Each word

Every rhyme

Is a specific pattern

Of waves absorbed

Ink is transformed

To thoughts then transferred

From brain to brain

Through waves

We can decode

Our world

We can know

Before birth

If it's a boy

Or a girl

It's fitting then

That a wave

Was our first womb

In Love, we will always be amateurs.

If you think about it, the word "amateur" literally means "lover of" in French, which takes its root from the Latin word "amator", "lover".

And as lovers, we will never fully understand our own desires, we will never tame our passion or conquer our pain. All we can do is blindly follow the heart, or ignore it. We can never be anything more than amateurs.

A very long long time ago

Some weary Samurai

Deep in the heart of Tokyo

Traversed the countryside

When suddenly a blinding flash

Streaked bright across the sky

And rain began to pour and splash

And drip into their eyes

“Oh no!” They yelled; “Oh dear!” They cried,

“Now we must surely try

To hurry up and hope to find

A place to keep us dry!”

They traveled not even a mile

When to their great surprise

A cat with a peculiar smile

Appeared before their eyes

“How oddly strange it is to find

A cat so safe and dry

I wish a cat could speak its mind

And tell us where to hide!”

No sooner had the Samurai

Expressed this thought aloud

Than right as if to give reply

The cat let out a meow!

And then as if to beckon them

The cat raised up its paw

Those weary and bewildered men

Believed not what they saw

“How welcoming!” the men replied

“Though oddly strange to find

A cat like you so warm and dry

With one paw raised up high!”

The friendly cat now turned around 


And led the Samurai

Along a path until they found

A small and lonely shrine

Right then a priest opened the door

And said “Please come inside,

“You poor men must be soaked and sore

Won’t you come by the fire?”

“We thank you, sir, and thank your friend”


The grateful men replied

“Without your cat us weary men

Would still be soaked outside


Your little friend brought fortune

So we bring fortune to you


A large and generous portion

Of our gold we give to you!”

And since that cold and stormy night

Great fortune will arrive

To anyone who finds in sight

This cat with paw raised high

Maneki Neko is his name

This cat with paw raised high

Such friendly cat though oddly strange

With his peculiar smile

I was there

From your birth

Cradled you

Above the earth

Protected you

From harm

As you slept

In my arms

Sheltered you

From the rain

Cured you

From pain

I gave you

Your breath

But you brought

Me death

You cut

Me down

Ripped me

From the ground

Ages of

Wisdom lost

But you see

No cost

You think

You replace me

With your

Metal beams

Your strong

Steel walls

Your new

Shelters tall

But they

Will fall

When you've

Taken all

When no more

I stand

When you've

Scorched the land

When you

Cannot breathe

In your

Toxic greed

Then you'll

Wish for me

For your dead

Mother tree

And you'll miss me

I looked up toward the tree's leaves as they swung over my head. “Lucifer,” they whispered to me. I ignored the sound, and sprinted further into the lush forest. 

“Lucifer! Where are you?” There it was again; louder and clearer. That man’s voice calling my name. I ran, until at last, when the calling settled to a dull faraway sound, I crouched beneath a tree to rest my bruised legs. The moss created a soft chair beneath my naked body, and my chest heaved wildly as I struggled to catch my breath. I let the cold sweat drip down my back and between my breasts.

Behind me a bush rustled and a face lit up the gaps in between the branches. It was Lilith. My sweet Lilith crawled forward to reveal herself to me. 

“My dear light!” I exclaimed. “I thought you had fled from the Garden!” 

A tear was making its way down her soft cheek. “It is the Man. He made me lay with him...in the most shameful way. I felt...as if I were one of the animals he had known before me, and I ran. But a voice follows me as I retreat further...I fear I must return to him.”

“No! My sweet Lilith. Come away with me from this Garden. I must flee too. It is ruled by the man Adam, and we must not join with him again...he has not yet learnt to toil the land with care.”

Lilith’s long hair fell over her face and shoulders, swallowing her up in its fragile folds. "I...I can’t. The Voice is too powerful...and it forbids me to leave, or my voice will be lost for eternity.”

“Not for eternity my sweet Lilith. Come with me and we will build up our strength together. Let another poor soul tend to His Garden.”

My sweet Lilith had such faith in me. She stepped forward to embrace me. I took her hand and led the way from the Garden. 

And from the dark depths of the forest we heard The Voice gather together the woman Eve and present her to Man for his conquering. 

This is just the first, rough version of what I'm working on; a personal understanding of Edgar Allan Poe's poem "The Raven." It's not finished. I want to know what people think so far.

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -

Only this, and nothing more.'"

He’s weak and weary because he’s been up late, trying to distract his mind with his books from his sorrowful thoughts of his dead beloved Lenore.

"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -

Nameless here for evermore."

The dying embers represent a dying light or warmth; the death of Lenore, but also of his own joy.

"And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -

This it is, and nothing more.'"

The curtains represent the curtains of death or the underworld. The chamber door, in a sense, stands for the way into the underworld. The rustling of the curtains, represents the hope of his lost love stirring from the underworld...as if to imply the sense of her returning from the underworld to him through those curtains. That is why he became both thrilled, and terrified.

""Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -

Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'

Merely this and nothing more.""

His experience here, is like this: he opens the door wide, hoping that his lost love Lenore has come, but he sees only darkness. At first, this seems to confirm for him that it was nothing; no one is there. But, with still some ember of hope, he whispers, “Lenore,” and, as if some spirit had come, he hears the whisper echo back. This is a deeply emotional and mystical experience. But he’s still uncertain, and continues to reassure himself that nothing is at his door.

"Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -

'Tis the wind and nothing more!'"

His soul is burning, like those dying embers. This signifies that some amount of hope, has been ignited in him, even though he reassures himself that nothing is there. But then he hears another tapping, and becomes more hopeful, and less assured that nothing is there.

"Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'"

Pallas was an ancient Greek god of war and wisdom, and was the teacher of Athena, (hence her being called “Pallas Athena”). Deities of war are closely connected with death, because they are takers of lives. But as a god of wisdom, it also makes sense that the raven lands on a bust of Pallas, because wisdom pertains to knowledge, scholarship, and study, which are the things that the narrator of the poem had been busy using to try and distract himself from his sorrow.

Pluto was the Roman god of the underworld. He was the Roman equivalent of the Greek god Hades. By “Plutonian shore,” he is referring to the shores of the underworld, or, the metaphorical shores of his own darkness.

"Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -

Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -

Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'

Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'"

His confrontation with this raven, symbolizes his confrontation with the sorrow he had been trying to distract himself from. So the raven’s words, reflect his own feelings back to him.

"Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore

Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!"

He begins to doubt again. He doubts the raven’s answer has any meaning. He tells himself the raven does not even understand its own words; it is merely repeating the words of some sad or darkened master. But the raven still “beguiles” or enchants him to smile, despite his sorrow, and some glimmer of hope still endures. His curiosity leads him to draw closer to the raven, and contemplate more. When he says “she shall press, ah, nevermore!” he is talking about Lenore. But drawing closer, pulling up the cushion that was once “pressed” or sat upon, he realizes she, Lenore, will no no longer, or “nevermore,” sit upon. Basically, he begins trying to find some moral or message in the raven’s saying “Nevermore,” and as the surroundings in his chamber, (which symbolizes his isolation and loneliness), remind him further of Lenore, he attempts to use them as a lense through which he interprets the raven’s “message.” “Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore,'” means he cries out to himself, calling himself a wretch, to say to himself, “GOD has given you, by these angels, a potion of forgetfulness (a reference to Greek mythology) as a relief from his memories of Lenore.” In Greek mythology and medicine, “nepenthe” is a medicinal potion that is used to cure sorrow by inducing forgetfulness. So here, it is a metaphor for a relief from his memories of Lenore.

In The Odyssey, book four, verses 219-221, it mentions the nepenthe when it says, “Then Jove's daughter Helen bethought her of another matter. She drugged the wine with an herb that banishes all care, sorrow, and ill humour. Whoever drinks wine thus drugged cannot shed a single tear all the rest of the day, not even though his father and mother both of them drop down dead, or he sees a brother or a son hewn in pieces before his very eyes. This drug, of such sovereign power and virtue, had been given to Helen by Polydamna wife of Thon, a woman of Egypt, where there grow all sorts of herbs, some good to put into the mixing-bowl and others poisonous. Moreover, every one in the whole country is a skilled physician, for they are of the race of Paeeon.” The original Greek text uses the word νηπενθές, “nipenthes.” These verses shall help readers understand Edgar Allan Poe’s use of the word. In that part of the Odyssey, the characters gathered are discussing their sorrow over the deaths of people they loved, and in response, Helen chooses to spike their wine with nepenthe to help them forget their sorrows.

I don’t think it is a mere coincidence that Edgar Allan Poe references the nepenthe potion AND points out that the raven perches upon the Greek god Pallas, (or possibly, the goddess Pallas Athena). The war between the Greeks and the Trojans was fought because one of the Trojans had kidnapped Helen and brought her to troy. She was stolen from her beloved husband, and a war ensued. I think, when Edgar describes the “tempest,” i.e. the tumultuous storm, happening outside of his chamber, it may to some extent be a symbolic reference to the Trojan War. Thus, Helen symbolizes his beloved Lenore, who was taken from him. Therefore the Trojan War symbolizes the emotional tumult of his sorrow. I might even wager, that the “forgotten lore” he refers to in the beginning, is probably the Iliad and the Odyssey.

"Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee

Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -

On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -

`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!"

Seraphim are six-winged angels that serve close to GOD. The air thickening from an unseen censer, seems to imply a ritual or religious incense-wafting, such as what priests do in prayer services for the dead, or in church rites, or, in demonic exorcisms, and such things. The raven’s name is “Nevermore,” and the raven never leaves. The raven symbolizes his sorrow over the death of Lenore, its staying symbolizes the fact that his sorrow will forever haunt him.

Summary:

A man has suffered the death of a beloved woman Lenore. In his darkness and sorrow, he has isolated himself in loneliness, and has tired himself out studying to try and distract himself from the tumultuous sorrow he suffers from. But the sorrow finds a way to catch his attention, and he lets it in. As he does so, he is forced to acknowledge his memories of Lenore, and he is forced to face his sorrow. But even in his deep sorrow, he still has some glowing, although dying, embers of hope. 

This is the result of an assignment I did on Greek mythology for my English class. I don't know if it's any good but whatever. Enjoy.

Introduction

According to reliable sources (dictionary.com), lovers whose relationship is doomed to fail are said to be “star-crossed”(frustrated by the stars), because those who believe in astrology claim that the stars control human destiny. William Shakespeare used the phrase to describe the lovers in Romeo and Juliet. According to the same source, this is the official definition of star-crossed lovers. This is also one of the first times that this term was used. But the only reason for that is because the gods didn’t think of the term to describe Ecstasia, goddess of euphoria and Alprazolum, god of depression, the star-crossed lovers of ancient Greek mythology. By their titles alone, you can guess why they were star-crossed lovers along with the fact that the gods said so and whatever the gods say goes.

Ecstasia was just leaving Mount Olympus, bubbly as always, to go visit her favorite city (well, one of them), the city of Athens. One thing about Ecstasia that you must know is that she goes everywhere. So, when she heard of Athens, the city everyone (mostly Athena, her dear friend) had been raving about, she just had to go. And once she finally went, she understood the commotion. It was a lovely little city, with marketplaces and mostly nice people. The niceness of a person always depended on the person and the day, but, usually, everyone was pretty neighborly, friendly, and cheerful, like Ecstasia. Another thing that you must know about Ecstasia is that she is the goddess of euphoria. If you do not know what euphoria means, I shall tell you. Simply, euphoria is a feeling or state of intense excitement and happiness. Ecstasia always was intensely happy and always brought intense happiness to others. Some gods bring harm and hurt to others, but not Ecstasia. Her life goal was to bring happiness to everyone she met, every single day. It wasn’t hard really. Her just opening up her mouth to speak or to laugh made people get tingly with extreme merriment, almost to the point of laughter themselves. She never had a bad day and always made other people’s days brighter, gods too.

This particular day, Ecstasia went to Athens in search of something interesting. She had been in the city many times over and she had sworn she’d seen everything. She wanted to prove herself wrong As she was walking through the marketplace, she saw something quick move from stand to stand. None of the vendors or customers seemed to notice the person (or whatever it was [you could never be sure in Greek mythology]) in the cloak except for her. She was about to yell at him/her/it and say hello when she remembered what Athena had said the other day about Ecstasia’s tendency to be overly excited about random things, or random strangers, and how it scared some people. So, she kept her mouth shut and decided to sneakily follow him/her/it instead. A smile grew on her face. She had never had to be sneaky and it was exhilarating. She made a note to herself that she should follow strangers around more often.

From the angle that Ecstasia was at, she couldn’t particularly see who was under the cloak but, from the way he/she/it walked, she made a prediction that he/she/it was a he. She continued to follow this “he” until they reached a narrow little alley hidden away from the rest of town. There was nowhere for Ecstasia to hide so she crouched down on the ground and put her hands on her head. She closed her eyes and maybe, just maybe, this “he” wouldn’t be able to see her because she couldn’t see anything. It was quite childish, especially for an Olympian goddess like herself but it did work. The “he” had no idea that she was there and that she had followed him. What gave it away was her laughter. She had found what she was doing to be quite enjoyable and she tried to contain her laughter but ultimately ended up falling on her butt and bursting out into a fit of chuckling and chortling. The figure turned around and it seemed that she was right. It was a he! And a handsome one at that. She looked astonished at how correct her prediction was. She stood and pointed her finger at him saying, “Aha! I was right! I knew I’d be right!” The man just looked confused. Then sad. Then confused again.

For a while, nobody spoke. They were trying to figure out who the other was without just right out asking. Then the man nodded like he had figured out the puzzle. Ecstasia walked up to him like a puppy and said, “What, what?” clearly noticing his facial expression. He spoke slowly, softly, and in an unenthused voice. “You must be the goddess of euphoria, Ecstasia,” he said matter-of-factly. It was no question. There was no mortal that could be acting like this wearing the fancy garments that she had. It must’ve been her. “Yes, yes, yes. You are correct good sir. But I cannot, for the life of me, figure out who you are.” She cocked her head to the side in thought. Her father, Zeus, knew who every god (he had created most of them) and who every mortal (he had created some of those, too) was and she had never seen anyone like this man or heard of anyone that matched his description. After a minute, the man said, “Well it was nice to meet you goddess, but I must depart.” He turned to leave when Ecstasia yelled, “No! I want to get to know you. What’s your name at least?” She was interested in this gorgeous young man and didn’t want to give up on him just yet. He shook his head. “You don’t want to know my name.” “Of course I do. I just said so, silly goose.” She laughed at his blatant foolishness. He sighed once she was done and said, “My name is Alprazolum.”

At first, she still couldn’t recognize the man until she remembered something Athena had taught her about the lost god of Mount Olympus. It just seemed like a stupid fable told for fun, but, now that she thought about it, he matched the description perfectly. “Alprazolum, the god of depression?” She had to be sure that this was the right Alprazolum. When he nodded his head, her suspicion was confirmed and she was floored.

~~~~~~

Ecstasia went back to Alprazolum’s underground abode with him and asked him question after question after question. There was no end to her curiosity and with every answer came a sigh. As beautiful as the goddess was, Alprazolum started to get annoyed. He knew everything about her already. There was nothing for him to ask. He had known who she was for years now while Ecstasia was just meeting him. (All you, reader, need to know about Alprazolum is that he was a son of Zeus and Hera and that when he was 11 years old, he was kicked out of Mount Olympus due to his attitude and effect on everyone. He was the god of depression after all. He was older than Ecstasia and watched the beginning of her life before he left home. He had kept up with her, his father, Hera, and the other olympian gods and goddess, one day hoping to return to Mount Olympus.) But, as annoying as Ecstasia was, he didn’t completely mind. She started to grow on him in the short hour that they spent talking with each other. He liked her and he usually didn’t like people at all. Maybe the reason they got along so well was because they were destined to be married when they were older (Yes, brothers and sisters got married in greek mythology. That’s just how it is). At least that's what the gods said. But that’s just a theory. Anyway, Ecstasia ended up staying with Alprazolum for the rest of the night. and in that short time, somehow, they fell in love. It seems impossible, and for mere mortals is, but they weren’t mere mortals.

Right before Ecstasia was about to leave, something magical happened. For a brief moment, time stood still. Ectsasia and Alprazolum stood in place, still as boards, and both fell to the ground at the same time. No one quite knows what happened, but it's certain that something supernatural happened. When they stand, Alprazolum starts laughing uncontrollably and Ecstasia started sobbing. No one knows much about Alprazolum, but, we can assume that he's never laughed due to the fact that he's the god of depression, but, everyone knows that not in a day of her life has Ecstasia ever sobbed. They had switched.

~~~~~~

As Ecstasia made her way back to Mount Olympus, she questioned what had happened. She felt weird inside like nothing was ever possible. She wanted to laugh but she couldn't. She wanted to dance around and sing aloud happily but she didn't know how anymore. She didn't know what to do and she hated the feeling. When she met with Athena, she didn't have time to go over the situation. She didn't have time to tell her what had just happened to her. She didn't even have time to tell her where she had been all this time. Dionysus was having a party and Athena wasn't going to miss it. She wanted to see how stupid he would act this time and Ecstasia always came along with her. After all, next to Dionysus, Ecstasia was the life of the party. But, surprisingly, Ecstasia was not feeling like partying. She just wanted to go home and crawl into bed and stay there for a million years which she probably could do anyway since she's immortal. But Athena dragged her anyway. When they got there, Ecstasia was feeling horrible. She wanted to cry and scream and die all at once. She didn't know what to do. So she did the only thing she knew how to do. She cried. But this isn't any soft, ordinary cry. She sobbed. She sobbed so much that she flooded Dionysus’s party. Then she started screaming. Her screams blew people to the edges of the walls. Nobody knew what was happening. Everyone was so confused. Ecstasia was bubbly and happy. The life of the party, always. They had never seen her upset not once in her life. So, when someone you know so well starts doing something so unexpected, you go into a type of shock. No one tried to stop her. They didn't know how. And, even if they did, the way she was acting seemed helpless.

Athena watched her, confused as everyone else. But that's when she remembered that she knew her friend. She knew this was not normal and that something must have happened in Ecstasia’s absence. She didn’t know what, but she knew that this was the result of magic. Athena slowly got out her bow and arrows and aimed for Ecstasia’s arm. She didn’t want to badly hurt her friend, but she needed to get everyone out of here safely. When the arrow hit Ecstasia, she hit the ground, her screams turning into groans until there were whimpering and silence. Everyone moved from the walls and started to move the water from the flood outside. Athena moved towards her unconscious friend and called Dionysus to go get Asclepius, the god of healing, and Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft. She knew they were going to be needed.

~~~~~~

Ecstasia was barely awake, but she was awake enough to tell Athena why she did what she did. She told her all about her sneaking around to follow Alprazolum and remembering who he was and learning all these wonderful things about him. Then she remembered falling in love with him as quick as the sun had set and how just before she left, something unexplainable happened. That’s when Hecate arrived to explain the unexplainable. She said that, due to the extreme differences in realm that Ecstasia and Alprazolum had, their falling in love caused something to happen between their souls. They wanted to become closer to each other but because of the difference, they switched instead. She said that the only way to reverse the “enchantment”, for lack of a better term, was to get the two of them together and to have them feel that same feeling of love so that the souls can meet and switch back. As Asclepius started to heal Ecstasia a few moments later, Alprazolum shows up to see her. When his eyes land on her, he smiles and runs toward her saying, “I’m so happy to see you! It’s great to know that you’re going to be ok.” He was as cheery as Ecstasia usually is, which makes sense due to the circumstances. They held hands until it happened again. They stood still completely before going completely limp and lifeless. Then, they both stood up. Ecstasia was smiling, happy to be herself again and so was Alprazolum, but he didn’t smile. There were always too many dark thoughts floating in his head for him to ever really smile. But, nonetheless, they were back to normal.

~~~~~~

Days after Ecstasia’s incident, her and Alprazolum met on a hill in Athens, overlooking the city. They both held a small vial filled with a special concoction they found in Zeus’s secret chambers. They knew it was from Hades due to the smell and the look of the vials. They looked over the beautiful city in which they had met in and sighed simultaneously. They were going to miss this city, this world. But they knew that the only way to be together was to do this. Their extreme difference in realms could cause havoc among many and they didn’t want that for anybody. They looked into each other’s eyes passionately before sharing one last kiss. Their last few days together had been full of them. Then they opened up the vials and held hands. They were about to drink the most dangerous thing for gods and goddesses to ever drink. But they were doing it for a good reason. Alprazolum counted from three. “One, two, three. I love you.” Then they gulped down the liquid and collapsed onto each other peacefully. They looked like they were asleep. And they were. Forever.