Growing and growing, not noticed just yet.

Look away and a new red pelt is formed on that rose.

Day by day, it grows to be astonishing.

Then the pelts, welt away, day by day.

Just like that, every red pelt has had its day

And the rose lived to simply welt,welt away.

-Kabanzag

Written By Kabanzag

(IMAGE CREDIT:http://cosmicstarseeds.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/shadow-beings.png)

Sunlight from the rising sun gleamed through her blinds, filling the once dark room with a shade of red and orange. 

                                                              .

Kathy paid no attention, as the sun nor the moon dictate her sleep schedule, or lack there of one in this particular case. This was the third night in a row that she spent the entire night, trying to sleep, but alas to no avail. Her eyelids were closed, but all she did was stare at them for eight hours, for three nights, that is twenty four hours of studying the back of her eyelids. Kathy wasn`t studying for a test that involved researching her palpebral conjuctiva or her own meibomian glands, but doing this seemed like a better alternative than keeping them open and seeing the “shadow people”. These “shadow people” as she coined herself, only seemed to appear to her a few months ago. 

                                                                .

She is utterly convinced they exist.She sees and hears them, day or night, it doesn`t matter, they are always lurking about. Now Kathy calls them “shadow people” because that is all she sees; their shadows, never anything else. It would be as if you were walking down the street behind someone and you`re staring down at your phone or what have you. You can see their shadow in your peripheral vision,but then you bob your head up and there is no one making that shadow. Now Kathy knows seeing and hearing these shadows is completely irrational. Thinking sanely doesn`t make you sane. When someone is convinced of something (especially when inside of their head, they are seeing people who are essentially just shadows, who also mumble things to them that aren’t distinguishable) rationality doesn`t exactly factor into what you believe to be true or false.

                                                                     .

The sun is now fully risen and Kathy, for the time being, feels well enough to get out of bed, make some coffee, and start her day. There was still some coffee in the pot from the day before, so she poured some into a mug and set it inside the microwave. She starts to set the heating time for two minutes, but before she is able to, she hears a voice. “ Dont. That`s too long. The heat will crack the ceramic and coffee will explode all over the microwave”. She turned around, and looked in every direction. No one was there. Turning back towards the microwave, she sees a figure in the corner of the microwave window. This figure seemed to be a few steps away and she could only make out the lower half of it. She turned around again. Again, no one was there. Turning back around, she closes her eyes, murmurs to herself “No ones there,no ones there” and presses two and heats her coffee. As it is heating,with her eyes still shut, she continues to murmur this phrase, like her own shadow-people wielding mantra.  

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“Beep!Beep!Beep!”. The microwaved exclaimed, letting the user know the microwaving process was complete. Kathy slowly opened her eyes, while still continuing to utter “No one`s there. No one`s there.” She abruptly stopped this mantra as she opened the microwave to retrieve her coffee, hoping the voice was wrong about the exploding mug. After what seemed like forever for the microwave window to pop open, she was relieved to find the mug just the way she left it. And certainly no coffee all over the inside of the microwave walls. Not only did this not waste any of her precious day old coffee but this left her with some reassurance that she still had some control over her life.

                                                                               .

She carefully took the coffee out from the microwave, turned to face the window,looking into her backyard and began to take a few sips, standing with one hand on the counter, trying to regain her composure. Her husband called her from their bedroom exclaiming,” Don`t forget, Marina is coming over today! And can you make a new pot of coffee?!The stuff in there must taste like sludge by now!” “She`s coming today?! I could`ve sworn she said she was coming over next week! She must need money!”. “No, she`s coming today! And the coffee!Thanks babe!”. This short exchange left Kathy flustered for some reason. She closed her eyes to try and calm down and slow down her heart rate. Then she heard a whisper, “He`s lying. They`re all lying. You can`t trust anyone”. Upon opening her eyes, she saw the same shadow from before in the reflection of the mirror. Startled, but remembering her mantra, she began to repeat it again and again in her head and shut her eyes for a brief time. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was her husband, “Are you ok? You`re shaking.” “I`m fine. I just thought...I saw…I heard. Never mind, its nothing. It was the coffee. Its too hot. Caught me by surprise. That`s all.” “Alright. Well. I can see that you didn’t make a new batch of coffee, i`m running late to work, i`ll just grab a cup on my way there.” “Oh…but it`s Sunday…you don`t work on…” “Honey,it`s Tuesday. You sure you`re ok?” “Positive. I was going to make the coffee, but I didn`t realize you were working today and were in a hurry.” “Really,it`s fine. Just get some rest. I`ll be home a little late, the boss has me working overtime. Love you.” He kissed her cheek from behind. “Love you too hun, drive safe.” She didn`t bother to turn around to say good bye or even look at him because she didn`t want him to see how flustered she really was. Like that he was gone. Faster then the money of a bad gambler playing craps. Her mind was still in shambles from what she had witnessed before he came in to say goodbye, that she didn`t hear the front door open or close, and the car turn on and drive away.

                                                                                        .

After a moment of deep breathing and ensuring herself everything is ok, she stumbles towards the kitchen table and manages to sit down. She stares down at the now lukewarm coffee. The home phone rings. It`s within reaching distance. She lets it ring four times until she summons up the courage to answer it. The voice on the other end starts the conversation. “Hello?”Kathy doesn`t respond. “Kathy? Are you there?I can hear you breathing.” It`s her brother. “I know, things have been tough…but you need help…I can help…let me help you.” Kathy looks back down at the coffee. In the reflection, she sees a blurred human-like creature crouching like a gargoyle, right above her on the ceiling. In a raspy tone, she can hear it command, “Never trust him. Never HIM. NEVER.” Her brother speaks up once more, “Kathy, are you listening to me? Should I come over? I`m worried about you.” This time, Kathy seemed to agree with someone and it wasn`t her brother. “ NO. Don`t ever come over here! I hate you! I hate you! Don`t call here EVER again!”She threw the phone as hard as she possibly could against the wall. The blurred figure complimented her actions. “Good. Very good. He was coming over to hurt you. You did the right thing.” She looked into her coffee mug, up at the ceiling, and all around her. No one was there. The phone was still in the receiver. “Wait…what…didn`t I…” Kathy questioned whether or not she threw the phone or if she had even talked to her brother. She frantically gets up and heads towards the utensil drawer and grabs a large paring knife. The voices seemed to be all around her now. Multiple voices all chanting different cryptic messages directed solely towards Kathy.

                                                                                            .

She runs towards her living room couch seemingly trying to evade the voices she`s hearing and pulls a blanket to cover herself from their view. “They`re after you. All of them.” “You can`t hide from the truth.””Life is a lie.”Everything a person doesn`t want to hear is all Kathy can hear. Then as the voices got louder, she heard the doorbell. “They`re here. We told you.”The doorbell rang again. Someone opened the door and Kathy could hear footsteps coming toward her. She clutched the paring knife like her life depended on it and kept her eyes wide open. Kathy was uncovered. “Mom! What are you doing?!Put that down!” It`s Marina, Kathy`s daughter. Kathy immediately drops the knife, along with with some tears flowing like a fountain down her face from her now,shut eyes, filling with shame and confusion. Marina cries along with her mother and they have a long, emotional hug. “As soon as your father left for work a few minutes ago, I dont know…I dont know what happened…I feel like i`m losing my grip on…”. Marina stops her mother from finishing what she was about to say and her face begins to fill with a compound of different emotions. Worried. Confused. Scared. “Dad?” she questioned with curiosity. “Yes. You`re father. You only drop by when you need money and now you forget you have a father?” “Mom. He`s gone.” “That`s what I told you, he left for work just a few minutes ago” explained Kathy. “No…he didn`t.” Marina started to question whether or not her mother was just in the denial stage or if she needs serious help. “We buried him months ago. He died. Don`t you remember?” Kathy tries to explain that she just saw him moments ago, but also remembers, she never actually “saw” him. She had her back turned during their entire interaction. “I can take you to his grave if it`s closure that you need. My therapist tells me it always helps with grief to fully understand a loved one is gone by visiting their resting place.” Kathy doesn`t know what to believe. Who to trust.What to say.

                                                                                                     .

Without Kathy saying a word, Marina slowly grabs her hand, walks with her to the door, and put her mom in her car. They pull out of Kathys` driveway and they both know where they are heading. Even though Kathy is still not fully convinced her husband is dead, she feels like she taken this drive before. Marina clutches her mother`s hand with a smile while she is driving and says,” It`s all going to be ok.” Kathy smiles back, but then wanders forward with a thousand yard stare. They`ve arrived at the cemetery, where Marina`s father and Kathy`s husband is buried. She is thinking of what those “shadows” told her before. Kathy sits still for a while. “Mom?You ready?” “Sure.” Kathy emphatically agreed. They both exit Marina`s car and walk towards her husbands grave;you can drive throughout this cemetery, so it makes it quicker to walk, to see the mourning familys` loved ones. As they are walking the fifty yards to her husband`s resting place, a shadow appears in the corner of her eye, she quickly turns to see if anyone`s there. Nothing. Then a whisper quickly followed berating Kathy,” This will not end well for you. You did not listen to me. You cannot trust her.” Marina doesn`t seem to notice her mother having this little episode, as she is focused on seeing her father`s grave as well. Kathy rushes to catch up to her. They are both looking over, what appears to be both Marina`s father and Kathy`s husband`s tombstone. “Well?” Marina asks her mother with anger. “Well, what” she replied. “You believe me now right? He`s clearly gone. You cannot possibly believe otherwise now.” Kathy looks down at the tombstone. It does indeed say he passed, just a few months ago. Right along the same time period, she started to see the “shadow people” and hear those voices. “Yes. Ofcourse, I believe you dear. I just didn`t want to believe he was gone.I loved him so,so much.””I know.” Marina quietly replied. They hugged once again and headed towards Marina`s car. Like the drive before, they were both quiet on the drive back to Kathy`s home. Pulling into Kathy`s driveway, Marina asks,” Will you be ok? Work texted, they need me there right away.”Kathy can feel how concerned Marina is for her. “Thanks hun, but i`ll be fine. It`ll all be fine now.” They both smile. Marina`s smile is filled with doubt, as Kathy`s smile is filled with fear. “Well, i`ll see you next week,ok?” Kathy says ok and she waves to her daughter as she drives away. Kathy walks towards her door, trying to believe what she just saw was real. It must`ve been, she felt. She walks back into her kitchen and heats up another day old cup coffee. In the middle of this process, she hears her front door open. 

                                                                                                                     .

“Kathy! Hun! I`m home! You won`t believe the day at work i`ve had!”

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I can hear hear little legs sprinting towards my bedroom.

She jumps onto my bed, with a big smile and I joking say "But, Molly there`s no room!"

At the shelter I got her, we locked eyes, I knew she was the one.

Although, to the other dogs, including the upright mammals lurking, she was quickly shunned.

She was weak and scared.

I couldn`t help but be frustrated with who had her last.

If someone else had not left her stranded or even have bothered to cared.

But Molly is mine. Healthy and loved.

To her, a life such as that must be what she hoped for, or even above.

K could not sit still. In between his index and middle finger, he held a cigarette. In the other hand he held a cup of coffee. The cup was incredibly hot, but he was so consumed with frustration from other fruitless countless nights, that were engulfed with nothing but misery and aimless thoughts, he didn`t even notice. 

Inspiration was not striking him like it had it the past. It was like it had gone from constantly sunny days to cloudy, dim, foggy, times. This feeling of restlessness only increased with each exhale of cigarette smoke and sip of coffee. A combination so cliche, but it didn`t seem to bother him, it is what he enjoyed. He took pride in hand rolling his own cigarettes. Although if he were too drunk to make them perfect, he would be fine with anything that was atleast "workable". 

K could not longer take part in what he loved to indulge in the past, because at this point, it would most likely kill him. So the indulgences he does take part in now are only, but a few, but he seeks to make the best of it and not sulk in the corner. 

With each exhale , he can taste the difference from let us say a "camel" or a "marlboro". With each sip of coffee he can taste and differentiate the different he beans crushed used for the coffee. This was a common practice of his in these recent times. 

Still nothing.

Just aimless thoughts and regrets from his past filled his mind. Memories resurfacing out of the blue to occupy a mind that is trying to forget them. And a neighbor`s dog that just keeps barking and barking with the owner paying no mind. 

It is  almost as if he is trying to torture himself for not doing what he has been noted to be the best at by his peers : Writing. The weight of the expectations put upon him. 

Not only having to do himself proud, but alot more people as well. 

His family. His "friends". His agent. And so on and so forth. 

Although for K, it is certainly not the pressure that is necessarily keeping him from his work. 

Maybe it is just...he thinks he has done his best work already.

Maybe, the drive to succeed and impress is no longer there.

It is deep, very deep within him, he knows this. 

K, although unconciously, thinks a glass of his favorite whiskey, or a strain of of his favorite "mota" as he likes to call it, or even a line of some white columbian substance may drive his creative force. 

As he smokes the finest of his own hand rolled cigarettes, he ponders this thought.

In the past, these vices certainly did seem to excel his creative force.

The people responded with enormous praise, as did the critics. 

There was a little bit of tobacco left in the cigaratte left. He looked at it for a brief moment in contemplation of quiting as all people "who want to quit, but never do,do" and crushed the rest out and angrily threw the butt into the street. 

With, the now luke-warm coffee, he tossed the rest into the bushes beside him and went back inside his home. 

As he nestled back into the comforts of his humble abode, he could not help but think where his life was heading and how it would eventually end. Even with the success and everything that comes with it, K knew he was no different from everyone else. He would eventually be no more. Would it end with him surrounded by his loved ones and his adoring fans posting "RIP. A legend was lost today" on Twitter or would he be alone with an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand,an empty syringe in his arm, and an empty bottle of anti-anxiety medication on top of his $25,000 Victorian drawer. 

He walked towards the kitchen, thinking to himself,"Should I take my old nosing glass and pour it to the brim with Jameson and gain some inspiration?"

Instead, he felt something. K has not relieved himself all day. 

His stomache was making a sound familar to him that needed immediate attention. 

He tightened every muscle in his body as much as he possibly could, without straining himself. Slowly, but surely, he pushed his thighs and calves together to keep from having to explain to his maid why a foul smelling mess was all over his kitchen floor. 

Now. As nice as a big house can be, it does have its downsides.

This particular architect who constructed this home put four bathrooms within the confines of this enormous place.

One is in the master bedroom, which is entirely too far, for this gastrol phenomenon happened suddenly and was coming faster than Usain Bolt on a 100 meter sprint. 

Another was in his daughter`s old bedroom, but as with the master bedroom, the same problem emerged, it was too far.

The final two rooms with toilets were slightly farther from one another. 

K had to make a definite decision. And fast. 

In a desperate move, he quickly changed his stance from that of a penguin stumbling towards warmth to that of a decorated Olympic athlete. 

Still clenched, he awkwardly, yet quickly found his way to the bathroom that was about twenty five feet from where he first stood.

If there were a bystander present at this notably unique scenario, they would have witnessed quite a magnificent feat.

To watch such an act. An act that consisted of running fifteen feet through a granite kicthen floor, with a magnificent marble counter top. 

Then to make a sharp left through a hall, with only having ten more steps to get to that porecelain throne.

Even alone, he still had his dignity. 

God forbid, he would have relieved himself all over his kitchen.

Albeit it may be his own defecation.To tarnish his own home he has worked so hard to get. He could not let that happen. 

Finally. Now sitting. At peace. Doing his business where it should be done, he realized a few things. His underwear and sweatpants remained unsoiled. Also.

He was holding a glass. Not an empty glass, but a glass filled to the brim with the Jameson he so longly felt he needed.

END OF CHAPTER 1. SOME CHAPTERS ARE LONGER THAN OTHERS.

Uncle Carl is not with us here today

But he is in spirit and he will never go away

It is true what they say when you die.

When it is found out, the deceased are the only ones unable to cry.

Now. Lets not call this a farewell, but rather a goodbye.

For we will see Carl when it is our time to lie where he lie.

Life and death coincide.

They cannot exist without the other.

It would be like making a PB & J without the peanut butter.

So let`s rejoice!

Not that Carl is no longer with us,

But because he experienced a life no other man can replicate.

With all that said, if Uncle Carl were here, he would want us all to celebrate!