Thinking Of Lost
I feel my bottom comfortable in my warm dress that separates it from the rough cushion. My feet, cold and bare, tickle from the position I lay in. I feel my long brown hair, falling from its tight bun, and my fingers vibrating from my typing. I think. I think about my life. I wonder why I am here and what to do. I think about anger and meaningness. Why does this matter? I want control. Why? Why do I do the right thing? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions. I write. I feel whole and I feel well. Compassion. Love. Creative. I write more and more but don’t know what to write. I focus. I am alone. I think. I think. What do I feel? Nothing. Emotion. None. FULL. I look over my page of writing and correct all my errors. I forget that what really matters is the writing and what it is telling the reader. I read over it. I read over my work and am satisfied. Again, I focus on my spelling. I live in the future and say what I will write next in my head but try not to. I try to have the words slip into my brain as I am writing it. It doesn’t work. I try. I don’t know what to write. I think. I focus. I let the words slip out and not worry about my errors. I think. I want. I tickle the thought of life. That came to my head. I think about what it tells me and I say no. That doesn’t sound right but then I listen. It tells me more and makes sense. Confusion. No one understands me. I am confusing. I try so hard and harder. Feeling my quiet heart is like knowing what love is not. I don’t know what you mean when you speak. No one knows what you mean when I speak. I am confusing. I am confused. I am a person. I think. I taste the coffee I recently sipped, I smell nothing as my nose is clogged up, I feel the keys underneath my fingers, I see my writing with red lines underneath words, I hear the air from my parents’ empty room, my sixth sense opens. Creativity. My mind is the most powerful part of me. I don’t believe that. My heart. No. Together my heart and mind go hand in hand. I think. My sixth sense its think. think. think. I repeat the words seven times three. I pause after one seven. I count on my fingers. Think think think think think think. That is three sevens. You are confused. I say the word one more time, but this time I obey it. I think. I close my eyes and say the word again. My hands continue on the board while I keep my eyes closed. I repeat the word and this time only say it in my head. I focus on my breathing I open my eyes and continue writing. I now go over my errors. There. Complete. I fixed my writing. Does it need to be fixed? I think about judgmentalness. That is no word. I often make words. We look. We stare. We Jude. I cry. I think about what people say to other people. It hurts them. I think about what they say to me. It hurts me. It isn’t about me, not always, not now. Judging is not my job. It isn’t yours. I feel sad. I feel anger. I feel judged. Prose. I... get upset that I don’t get likes. FOOLISH. I am told that I should not be on this if I continue to blind myself in self-pity. Not those words, never those words. I feel morange the more I try for likes. I want to be accepted by society. What’s wrong is right and what’s right is wrong. I choose what they say or the opposite. They don’t like confusion.who am I. I am lost. That is who I am. LOST. I read over, one more time...and I hit publish.
You
I love your smile.
The way you smile--
You smile like you’re breathing out of your mouth,
where I can see your teeth
and the way that your lips tilt up at the edge.
Your sharp eyes catch hold of me.
Whatever color they are.
I can’t even tell exactly, but they are dark.
Dark and beautiful.
Oh, handsome.
You’re tall, dark, and handsome.
Your towering stature.
You make my heart stop.
Please don’t stop.
With those arched eyebrows.
And that silky hair
combed back.
You make me weak.
Why?
Why
oh
why?
Why
am
I
attracted
to
you?
I try to avoid you,
but I can’t stop looking.
I can’t stop looking for you.
I’m addicted.
I need to stop.
But I can’t.
You’re too alluring.
My heart.
It beats.
It beats.
It beats for you.
Oh help me.
I need
to catch
my breath.
Help me.
I--
Draria’s Origin Story
Trees moving, sun falling, ground jumping, he runs as far as he can, as fast as he can, as much away as he can, but, he won’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do what he always wanted to do, not after what happened. As much as he wanted it, he had responsibilities and he had to do the right thing. He couldn’t let anyone else get hurt, hurt the way he was, ripped from your happiness with no way to get back.
He could see his village clearly, on flames. He saw his mother holding his sister in her arms. His father was trying to find a way to break down the walls. The walls that were supposed to protect the people of Shema, were keeping them in to be consumed by the flames. He was in the distance. He watched his parents as they burned to death. His feet were stuck to the ground. He was in so much shock and couldn’t move. He stood still the same way he did before, when it happened. He could have done something but he didn’t. He could have saved his family but his shock and cowardliness took over. He lived with that guilt for seven years. He had promised he would never let it happen again and it did. His fire wasn’t the first or the last. Last night, the rebuilt houses of another village of Shema Kingdom was destroyed. He wasn’t just a coward, he was a liar. So many people died, again. The fires over the past couple decades were not accidents, they were someone else’s doings. They would kill hundreds of people just to show power. If a fire struck then the people of Shema would work harder and listen to the higher classes, the ones in control. They were the ones who killed.
This time, Haylen knew who was to blame. He knew whose fault it was, and who caused the misery. It wasn’t the people in control. It wasn’t the Shema king, who ordered a village burnt, the blame still went to someone else. Someone who promised to save the kingdom. Someone who lied. It was him, himself. He could have done something. Even though he knew who set the fire he only had himself to blame.
“Haylen!”
“Hi, Draria.”
She linked her fingers with his. She knew that Haylen didn’t need someone to tell him it wasn’t his fault. What he needed was someone to gaze at the sky and think about their faults.
“Draria,” he turned towards her.
She nodded.
“It is all my fault, I should have done something.”
“Haylen, it isn’t. We know who did this and it wasn’t you.”
“I know, but I should have done something, I should have seen it coming.”
“No one ever knows when they are coming. The Sea is too powerful. They use fire and evil. Their army and their king, they control us and this is how they do it.”
They looked up at the bright sun until the stars popped up, and then rolled over and fell asleep.
~
“Help!” The boy played, “Oh help my desperate soul.”
“How many times have I told you, don’t yell help or else someone will think you are in danger.”
“Leave all your blame here,” Draria said as they walked back into the village.
“Draria, you lost your dad because of me.”
“That was seven years ago and I am done being angry at you for that.”
The wind blew hard. Instantly, rain poured down.
“Uh oh. Let’s get inside.”
In a nice cozy house with a blanket around him, he wrapped his arm around Draria.
“Haylen, you are like a son to me.” Draria’s mother said.
“Thank you.” He said respectfully, “Do want me to get that.”
“Get what?” Draria asked.
“The door.”
“What door?”
Three loud bangs from the door arrived.
“That door.”
“How do you do that?” Draria asked.
Haylen stood up, “I just heard footsteps.”
He opened the door for him.
“Adam,” Draria called. She ran up and kissed him.
“Do you want to go hunting?” He asked.
“Mother?”
“Sure.” Mother said
They walked out the door.
“Be safe,” Haylen called before they left.
“So, how are you doing?” He sat down next to her Mother.
“You beautiful boy, always worrying about everyone else. I know I am not your mother but I hope I can be more than just your friend’s mother.”
“No, you are the next best thing.”
“Well, that is good to know.”
“I need to go,” He kissed her on the cheek.
As he walked past the burnt houses he thought about his parents and his sister. He never was that close to her but he wished he had more time. Tears ran down his face. It was his fault. He may not have been able to prevent last night’s fire or any other fire but he could have saved his family. That is on him.
He stood there thinking about the fire and his family’s death. He was still and his eyes showed guilt but what brought him out of it was a scream. A scream coming from the woods. He shook his head and followed the cry for help. People followed. What happened next is hard to tell. Not just sad, but gored with blood and horror. A Tragedy that not even you would expect. I don’t think I could tell you. Haylen never could forgive himself, not after this. After hearing screaming he ran as fast as he could.
Slashing and screams, everywhere. Draria wasn’t the one to get hurt. Adam was. His death was slow and painful.
“Draria, what happened?”
“I...”
People found Adam as he died slowly.
“What happened, Adam? Was it The Sea?” Haylen asked.
He shook his head, “It was... Draria.”
“What?” Draria stepped back, “no... I would never do that.”
Adam took his last breath before he died in the arms of his fellow brothers and sisters. They covered him with dirt as they thought about what he had said. They buried him right where he died, just like they did to the people who didn’t Turn to ash before they died.
people were arguing about what had happened. Know one understood. Adam had scratch marks and deep wounds. There were no weapons around, how could she have even killed him?
“Draria?” Haylen asked.
“I didn’t do it. I promise.”
“Okay, I believe you,” Haylen said calmly.
A priest approached and place his hand on her.
“I beg of you Lord, show me the truth on what had happened and we promise to do as you command with thy truth.” He mumbled a few things to himself and opened his eyes.
“Nothing, the Lord wishes to keep this from us and we shall respect his decision.”
“But-”
A bright wave passed through them as an imagery appeared.
“It seems the Lord has given us the truth in a vision.” The Priest knelt.
Everyone took his example and looked upon the scene. Their expression changed from Confused to horrified to worried and back to confused.
Draria crouched over Adam as she tore him to pieces. Blood dripping off her hands she cried for help. She was different though, bigger. She was covered in dark fur and she had long sharp teeth.
Draria, The only one standing dropped to her knees as she begged for mercy.
“I didn’t know. I don’t remember that. Lord, I beg for mercy.”
“She doesn’t deserve mercy,” someone called. People started yelling at Draria and yelling at each other. They argued about everything. They blamed her for the fires.
“Hey, the fire was my fault, we all know that. I said I would protect you like my father once did and I didn’t. whether or not she killed Adam she is still human.”
“We saw it. She killed Adam.”
“You saw the way she looked! she was different!” Haylen yelled. Everyone started yelling louder and pointing fingers as Draria cried on the floor.
“I am sorry.”
“Pfft, you are a murderer.” someone yelled.
“She doesn’t deserve mercy.” Someone repeated.
People started repeating that while others said she did. They went back and forth. No mercy! No mercy! Mercy! Mercy! No mercy! Mercy!
“Is this the way we respect thy Lord’s gifts!?” The Priest yelled, “By yelling and fighting over who deserves mercy or not? Because no one here is perfect and no one here deserves mercy and we are not the ones to decide who gets it. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. Whatever thy Lord wishes is what will happen. Give me your word the Lord has spoken to you and we will do as he says.”
“The Lord says to stone demons and we all saw what she did to Adam.” Another girl called.
“It wasn’t her,” Haylen called. Everyone looked his way. “You saw that something came over her. She had claws and long teeth and fur throughout her body.”
“Half-women half-wolf.” The Priest said.
“A demon, stone her.” An older man called.
Every one gasped. “The Lord has spoken.” The Priest called, “He says to release her into the wild and let Him do his doing.”
“You’re going to banish me?” Draria stood up.
“You can’t," Haylen said.
“Young girl,” the Priest held her hands, “We know that you meant no harm but we must obey thy Father’s word. Now go. Run into the woods. Remember listen to what thy Lord wants you to do and you will find your way back to us. I am sure you will. Goodbye, Draria, goodbye.
She ran into the woods as fast as she could and wasn’t seen for three more years.
Three years later she returned. She was different. She was taller and stronger. Her hair was cut and she had scars all over her.
“Haylen,” She ran and hugged him.
“Draria, I haven’t seen you in forever. I searched everywhere for you. Two more fires in another village. It is crazy but now you are back and can help us get justice.”
“No, I can’t stay. I killed Adam and was banned.”
“It’s okay, we will figure out away.”
“It’s okay,” Draria said, “I found a place I could stay. People need my help and I can use my ability for good. I can control it.”
“What, no. You can’t leave. I don’t understand.”
“Come with me,” she grabbed his hands.
“I can’t, I have to stay here and protect the kingdom, and you, have to protect yourself. Go, do what you need to do.”
“Ok, I will. I will come back, I promise.”
“Ok, but just answer one question? Who are these people? Who needs your help?”
She smiled.
“There names?” He nodded
“Touren, Amelia, Luke, and Layla.”
Dangerous Two Words
“The time has come”
I was suddenly transported into the grey windowless room. My legs and arms were bound to a chair. It was almost straight out of the movies. Only it was so real. I panicked and struggled as a group of people wearing identical green suits in the room advanced towards me.
“No you can’t do this, I haven’t done anything!” I yelled, thrashing against my restraints.
“Put her under”
Pain. Blackness.
~~~
I gasped, waking up from my nightmare. My arms were sore from struggling and entangled in the bedsheets. I shakily got up and walked over to the kitchen to get a cup of water. As I clenched the glass in my hand, flashes of the nightmare came back to me in sharp bursts. Groaning, I walked over further to my window and placed my forehead on the cool glass. The glass soothed my aching head, and I sighed with relief.
“Estás bien Cassandra?”
I jumped, my heart beating fast again. But, when I turned around, it was only my aunt.
“Tía, you scared me” I replied reproachfully. I crossed the room, setting my glass on the counter, and hugged her. “You can’t sleep too?”
“No, I can’t” she replied, smirking. Then her smile faded. “Thinking about tomorrow?”
I nodded slowly, meeting her hazel eyes.
“No te preocupes, Cassandra. Everything will work out in the end. It will be for the best.” She smiled again. “Come, you better get some more sleep. They won’t want you falling asleep on the stand, like poor Miguel Vasendra, el tarugo” she said shrewdly. I chuckled as I remembered the annoying lawyer who nodded off before the judge could give her sentencing to his client. She was so furious that she rose from her desk and banged her gravel on his head to rouse him. The amusing memory chased the nightmare out of my head, and I allowed Tía to take my hand and lead me to my bedroom. She helped me back into my bed and tucked my sheets around me.
“Dulces sueños, Cassandra” she whispered, closing the door softly. I sighed and rested my head back into my lumpy pillow as I drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
~~~
When I woke up for the second time this morning, it didn’t feel like morning at all. I rolled and looked at my clock, which read 6:50. Panicking, I leapt out of bed and threw on my pantsuit and stockings. I skidded out to the kitchen where Tía was working on breakfast.
“Good morning Tía” I said, hastily kissing her. She smiled and poured out a simple scramble of huevos, queso, and arroz onto my plate. “Gracias,” I said, shoveling the food into my mouth.
“Cálmate Cassandra. You don’t need to be there until 8,” she chided, waving her finger at the clock.
“Yo se Tía, pero I want to get there early and get a good look at what we are dealing with” I replied, running over and placing my dishes in the sink. Tía groaned and rolled her eyes, but grasped my hand after I put my shoes on and grabbed my briefcase.
“What?” I asked as she squeezed my hand tightly.
“Just...be careful….. and decide what YOU think is best, not what everyone else thinks” she answered, taking my hand and placing it over my heart. I nodded and smiled.
“I will,” I said confidently. “I always do.” Giving her one last hug, I rushed out the door and down the steps into the watery Chicago sunlight.
~~~
It took me a surprisingly short time to reach the bus stop. On a normal day of traveling to work, the stop would be packed. However, no one was traveling to work at 7:00 in the morning on a Sunday. Once the bus arrived, I waved to the driver and hopped onboard. Staring at the brick houses rushing by, I soon became lost in thought. This seemed strange, being called to something so low as jury duty. Normally, I would love to be in the action of the case, instead of passively sitting on a bench with eleven other strangers, deciding the fate of the victim with barely any evidence. I would have thought given my career position that I would not have been selected to serve on the jury this dismal morning, but the message still arrived. I frowned as the bus bumped its way to my destination, lost in thought.
~~~
After a very short hour, I arrived at the courtroom. The halls were eerily silent as I walked inside, my footsteps echoing as I walked. At the end of the impressive hall were a security guard and a metal detector. The guard looked like he was falling asleep as he sluggishly motioned for me to hand him my briefcase. I grimaced in sympathy and walked through the metal detector, stopping to collect my briefcase.
“What do you expect us to do, attack you for not getting enough sleep?” I asked the guard jokingly.
“You never know with people” he responded sleepily but with a touch of humor in his eyes. I nodded and continued walking down the hall to the assembly room. There was quiet conversation as I entered, and I took a seat in the back of the room. Looking around, I spotted a man who was interviewing the possible candidates.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said walking towards him. “Is it…..that case...that we have been called for?” He seemed to be startled and looked up at me in further surprise.
“Ms. Lopida! I didn’t expect you to be here,” he said, shaking my hand in disbelief.
“Neither did I, honestly,” I admitted, turning to look at the people behind me. “When I heard the news, I thought…..about not coming at all…. But then I realized it wouldn’t be fair.” The man nodded.
“I know what you mean,” he said, shuddering. “But a famous lawyer such as yourself should have no worries with something as trivial as jury duty!” He added, smiling.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “It will be a nice change of pace, I think.”
He nodded and ushered me forward.
“Come along, in! You just so happen to be the last of our fine serving jury members today.” I walked into the room, feeling a sense of foreboding beyond the doors.
~~~
Bang! The familiar but deadly sound of the gravel rang through the courtroom.
“Ms. Crowe,” started the judge. “You have been called here for your crimes in the state of Illinois, which include igniting multiple bombs along the DuSable bridge- killing 20 and seriously injuring 12, also attempting to kill Lori Lightfoot, mayor of the fine city of Chicago, and shooting 7 children at Lincoln Park High. How do you justify these horrendous crimes?” Alexandria Crowe stood up as if she was asked to sing an encore at an opera. I shuddered as her gaze swept to the members of the jury, locking eyes with me for a second.
“Not guilty,” she said, a smile on her face. The entire courtroom gasped with her bold declaration. The judge, the only one brave enough to hold her gaze nodded.
“Explain yourself.” Crowe smiled again.
“I was with my niece the entire day. I know how much she misses me when I am away with my work,” she said, with the air as if she was in on a joke the rest of the court was not.
“What kind of work?” asked the judge.
“I work for a private company that employs individuals with special skills,” answered Crowe.
“And you are the primary guardian of your niece?”
“Yes” answered Crowe.
“What sort of company employs you?” I asked, immediately regretting speaking out of turn. The judge frowned at me, but Crowe turned her attention to me and smiled.
“Ah yes, the famous lawyer. I’m afraid that I can’t disclose the name of the company or my employer. Additionally, you will find an abundance of evidence that I am innocent of all charges,” she said, smirking. I sat back down and took careful notes on the rest of the trial. It seemed to go slowly, as I sifted through all of the evidence she gave.
~~~
“Well, I suppose we’re all in agreement then that she’s guilty,” said the pompous-looking man who sat next to me during the trial. We were now in a separate room, deciding our ruling.
“I mean, she had to have done it, there’s no way she couldn’t have!” I frowned.
“I don’t think that she did it,” I said, glancing at him. “Mr…?”
“Role,” he supplied, glancing at me in annoyance. “Look, just because you’re some fancy-ass lawyer doesn’t mean that you can just come in here and…”
“Being part of the jury means that you have to reserve all past judgments that you had before stepping foot in this room and use your life experiences to come to a validated conclusion,” I interrupted, angry.
“What evidence is there that she wasn’t the one to commit the crime?” a woman asked.
“Oh come on,” I said. “First, her niece testified for her, second, the pictures on the crime scene are extremely blurry, and third, there was no way she could be in three places at once! I thought she was there, I read the news. But after hearing her case… there is no way that she is guilty of this crime,” I shouted, panting and glancing around me. I looked at 11 scared people and realized that I was alone in my belief. I sighed and my shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Let’s get this over with then,” I mumbled, turning back toward the door.
~~~
“Guilty.” whispered the woman.
“Guilty.” muttered the fighting young man. The word “Guilty” rang out eight more times before the pompous man sitting next to me said “Guilty” clearly. Then it was me. It was always down to me. I tried to say the words, but they wouldn’t come out. I shook my head, knowing my career was on the line with these dangerous two words
“Not guilty!”
“Here we go..” the pompous man muttered.
“There is no way she could have done it…. You all are so quick to judge!” I said, my voice raised. “Why?”
Crowe looked at me with a strange look on her face. Almost determination. Then, she stood up.
“Well this is touching,” she said sarcastically, laughing softly. “Well done Ms. Lopida,” she said raising her hands to slow clap for me. I frowned, confused by her reaction.
“Well done?” asked the judge, equally puzzled as the rest of us.
“Yes,” said Crowe. “She was the only one smart enough to see the truth. And she will be the only one returning with me!”
“What…” said the judge, but at that moment, Crowe twisted a ring on her finger and all the lights went out. Shrieking, I felt two hands grab my shoulders and pull me away from the stand. I struggled, but I couldn’t escape their vice-like grip. Suddenly, there was a patch of light and I saw a green suit cuff.
“You’re them,” I said astonished.
“That’s right darling,” said Crowe. “And I’m sorry about this.” With a quick movement, she placed a procured cloth over my mouth, and the darkness consumed me.
