Birthright
Chapter I
The rain poured all morning, but there we sat, staring at the droplets collecting on the glass of our bay window it has been a fortnight since the death of his Lordship Alexander Helmsley. After a short silence Julian spoke, “What now?”
Turning to him, “we wait,” said Edward still starring out the window.
The clouds grew darker, a servant entered, “My young Lords, young Lady, lunch awaits, Should I alert your guest?”
“No Martin, that will be all,” said Edward coldly. Turning to us, Edward whispered, “moment of truth. You go on ahead; I’ll be right down.”
Julian made a run for the door in a way only little brothers can, I look at Edward briefly before I made my way down the main staircase. As my hand touched the mahogany rail, for the first time this place felt like home. I tried to burn the feeling into my memory. Each step felt like a stride of justice or perhaps restitution for the tribulations of my young life. As my cheap shoes slid about on the landing stair, I tried to push the creeping thoughts of the orphanage to the depths of my consciousness.
Sebastian, the Valet, was waiting with a smile at the bottom of the stairs, “this way Miss.” He was young and handsome as far as I could tell. Dark brown hair, chilling blue eyes, tall slender build, with a keen and impeccable manner, of all the servants he seemed the most interested in attending to me—each servant has their favorite member of the house. Sebastian’s hand gently touched the back of my dress—to adjust my crooked sash so I would look presentable before I entered the room.
Julian was already sitting at the table in his normal place, scarfing down the fruit on the table. Sebastian pull out my chair as I sat he scooted it in and poured water into my drinking glass. He then brought a tray of savory scones and offered me one. As I took the warm scone from the silver tray; Edward and the shrill Mr. Lawrence, of Pearson & Lawrence, a known law firm out of North London, entered the room mid conversation. The servants tried to look disinterested in our conversation but, even in the short year we had become acquainted, Julian and I knew better. We shared a look and went back to our lunches.
Mr. Lawrence, whom I can only presume felt inclined to foster a conversation out of motivation to hear his own voice began, “I know you are all worried about the affairs of the estate,” he took his fork and poked his food before continuing, “the paperwork seems to be in order. I should…”
“We can discuss this later,” interrupted Edward. “How is your family? I received word through the servants that your mother is unwell?”
“Yes, yes she is but the doctor said she should show signs of improvement within the week,” replied Mr. Lawrence.
[...........]
Star Child
For a long time there was nothing but light. Our world knew no darkness. We had peace and harmony. Until Oumai gave birth to a son, Star Child. The boy loved to play and cause mischief, nothing malicious, but he just liked to poke a bit of fun. It wasn't long until he poked a bit too hard and Red Sun, his older sister, became very angry. She was not amused by his antics and pleaded with Oumai, me, the mother of all, and Wahai'pe, father of all, to punish Star Child for misbehaving.
Wahia'pe in all his misguided wisdom agreed with Red Sun. He thought Star Child needed to answer for his minor indiscretions. Wahia'pe came to me. He bowed and remained knelt in my presence. He spoke softly, "My Goddess, I love our son, the beautiful Star Child, but he is reeking havoc and causing disharmony between the other children, Red Sun and Small Moon agree that something must be done to reign in their younger brother."
"How quickly they forget their own naïvety and youthful exuberance," I said.
"My Goddess, I know your words to be true, what would you have me do?"
"I would have you love Star Child as I do, and drop this matter."
"Yes, My Goddess," replied Wahia'pe never looking up. He backed out of the room keeping his head to the ground.
Not but a moment later Star Child appeared to me.
"Have you been here long?" I asked.
"No," Star Child replied sheepishly.
"What would make you happy dear boy?"
"I want somewhere to play mother, it is so boring here. And no one seems to like me. Red Sun and Small Moon keep picking on me and most of the time I get blamed for their foolishness."
"Oh, Star Child. You must accept responsibility for your own actions, before you go blaming anyone else for theirs."
"I just want to play," said Star Child with a sigh and then he left.
The next morning, I, Oumai, woke to find my pure carbon head piece had disappeared. I looked high and low. It wasn't long before Red Sun came to me.
"Mother," said Red Sun in a vengeful tone.
"Yes," I said calmly.
"Star Child has run off with all of my robes, he has taken Small Moons shoes, and Wahia'pe's bow."
"Where did he take them?"
"We don't know, everyone is out looking for him," said Red Sun.
"Then we shall too."
After an hour of searching we still turned up nothing. Weeks passed. Months passed. Time went on and on....
One day, Star Child returned.
"Star Child," I said to him, "where have you been?"
"Playing mother, why did you not come for me?"
"I did but I figured you would return on your own. Did you bring back our things?"
"No mother. I sold them."
In that moment, I knew Star Child had gone too far.
"You stole from us Star Child. While I may forgive the stealing, I cannot forgive your thoughtlessness in selling our items."
Red Sun and Wahia'pe appeared.
With the darkness and jealousy created by my favor to Star Child he was cast to a tiny rock on the outskirts of the universe, called Earth.
Over time Star Child fell in love with an Earth Woman, Niimu, and they had many children, all of whom, loved to play.
Touched By Zeus
Normal day. Nothing special. Sunglasses on. Music blaring into my ears. Playlist: Workout Mix. All my favorites are on there. Rocking out.
Minding my own business. I see a group of people coming forward, odd since most classes haven't let out yet, I check my phone. Nope, not late, skip song and go back to walking.
I see two men that have separated from the others. They are sharing a laugh. Both have dark hair, are around my height, and are bulky in a "fit" (athletic) way.
As I walk by the one on the left looks me in the face. A surge of electricity courses through my veins and I can feel it making my toes tingle. I am stunned. Not really sure what is happening. We pass each other. I wait a few seconds and turn my head to try and catch a glimpse of him one more time.
When I do, he turns back and looks at me. Freaked out I turn back and proceed to walk quickly away. As I do so, I wonder to myself, did I just have a spontaneous "o"? And dear lord I need a cigarette.
After hastily making my way to a designated smoking area for a much needed inhalation of cancerous materials, I can't stop shaking.
My body is very jittery. And my mind is still trying to encapsulate--what just happened? I try to put it into words. But, it's not working.
As best as it can be described I was touched by Zeus, the God of the lighting...
Even now, years later, I cannot forget his face or that feeling. He shall live in my mind and my heart as the "Muse".
Yeah, This Blows
Yo Dairy,
Day One. I don't have much time...so I will try to hurry...
Well, it didn't happen like 28 Days Later, Shawn of the Dead, or hell, just about any zombie movie ever made...it happened when our newly elected president, the very original, the very unique, Drumpf was smoking cigars in the Oval Office. Someone gave him the bad news that Nigel Farage, Kim Jung and Satan wanted to meet up for afternoon tea around 3pm on a Tuesday. Of course Drumpf had to go, he hadn't decided to skip all those "dumb" intelligence meetings for nothing...
That was a week ago. Or at least I think it was a week ago. Time moves so slowly now, it's hard to tell the day from the night.
Ya see, shortly after tea started (Satan was Live FBing the whole event, it almost broke FB site) Drumpf and Satan got into an argument over who had the most "followers" on Twitter and then that snowballed into a heated debate over who was the most "influential".
Nigel sipped his tea with his ugly smug mug. He babbled on about how he convinced the U.K. to vote for Brexit.
Kim Jung-un quipped he has the most influence because he blocks out all the media he doesn't like...he ended by saying it's exhausting exercising so much control over people's lives.
President Drumpf reminded everyone that he convinced the United States he was a better candidate than Bernie Sanders and Hilary Clinton. President Drumpf laughed. Nigel laughed. They laughed.
Satan quickly interjected, and brought up the fact he's flipping immortal and has been slowly collecting souls or as he calls them "followers" since time immemorial.
All of them agreed Satan hadn't really earned those "followers" and asked that he put a limit on the number of years...to bring it more inline with everyone.
For some reason about 45 minutes into tea Putin showed up. He kissed Drumpf on the cheek and sat down. "Sorry I'm late babe, you know how it is.." it was at this point I ralfed into the nearest bin.
Satan and Putin then got into an argument over the LGTBQ treatment in Russia. Satan told Putin their souls only burn in hell if they are bad people....because get this, hell doesn't care about sexual orientation, hell only likes sinners.
Then out of nowhere Drumpf, who must have felt the conversation wasn't giving him enough attention made fun of Kim's accent. And pretended to be disabled and spoke in a stereotypical "Asian" version of broken English.
We all saw Kim Jung throw hot tea in Drumpf's face then the camera goes wobbly as a fight breaks out.
And that was it.
Screen went black.
"Broadcast Interrupted"
Everyone went on with their day...until dinner time on the west coast. Then all hell broke loose.
Canisters and large metal drums of toxic waste started dropping from the sky. They were rigged to explode and though we still aren't sure who launched the attack we are fairly sure the majority of our armed forces have been deployed elsewhere. The people were left to fend for themselves.
At first the attacks seemed random. But soon, we started to notice water supplies were being targeted.
In just a few days the disease spread to all the major cities. The waste once ingested mutates the cells--those cells adapt so fast...
Unlike in the movies these zombies...can change from human to feral in under 10 seconds. The only way to kill one of these zombies is with fire or explosives. Bullets do not cut it. Shooting them in the head...just pisses them off...it's a freaking nightmare...
My group and I have survived this far because some of us have read something called the "Anarchists Cookbook". While my friends played GTA back in 8th grade I learned how to live it; I grew up poor and my grandpa was a kook, it's amazing what old people leave out for us youngsters to find.
Anyways, those slimy buggers are gnashing at the door again...and these Molotov's aren't going to throw themselves...
I hear Del calling I have to run...if I make it--I'll write more tomorrow....
*Image from sookie on Flickr used under Creative Commons--some rights reserved*