The Answer; Part 2.

28th March; 6:45pm


"Take Warren home," my wife said. "Keeping him here would bore him to death with our stacks of papers. Besides, Demi must be waiting," as she tied her hair into a high ponytail with 2 quick swifts of twirling her hair.


My wife, Georgia, who seemed as sexy and inviting to me at the moment as she ever had, who was the very reason I'd been thinking of green sweaters being slipped off and jeans unzipped, and corks popping out of bottles of wine all evening, my wife was sending me in this provocative, luscious, alluring woman in my life. My first love. And unrequited one at that.


Talk about sending a firecracker into the inferno. "Ok," I said and looked for my jacket. Then I muttered, "Don't say I didn't warn you." "What did you say?," asked Georgia. "Nothing," I replied as I went upstairs to wake little Warren up from his deep slumber.


-

29th March; 12: 11pm

"What was he like?" I repeated, killing a few more seconds of time. "Well, let's see. He was very popular in & out of school. A good basketball player. And he had one of those personalities that made people want be around him a lot. Like Fonzie." Warren listened somberly, nodding at each of my declarations. He liked what he heard. Especially the Fonzie remark. And it wasn't as if I was lying to him.


Andrew Ford, with his Bryan Adams good looks, was as popular as they came. That's how he managed to snag Demi Luke in the first place. He probably would have been popular even he wasn't selling weed on the streets of Trotte Avenue. And a couple of times I really had seen him shooting a few hoops with the boys at the high school basketball court. He has a good, sure aim and could dribble as though narcotics agent were hot on his heels.


"And he was very good-looking," I said, "just like you are." Come on McDonald's, come on McDonald's, come on McDonald's, I thought as Trotte Avenue's only traffic light blinked green and I was free to turn right and head for the milkshake. But Warren was not to be pacified with ice-cream and milk, not after asking those questions about his father. Late-father.


"Mom says he was a dreamer," Warren continued, more to himself than to me. " She's says he took off to Alaska like a leprechaun looking for a pot of gold. Mom says don't blame him, you can't expect more than that from a dreamer." I smiled. It would be so like Demi to give Warren the truth in by wrapping it in some nice, poetic gauze.

The Answer; Part 1.

25th March; 5:34pm.


"Let's walk, Scott," she said. "Like the old days. Remember how we used to dream of having our driver's licenses one day so we wouldn't walk?" A sweet spring evening fell in about us as we walked on, a fresh smell of leaves on the breeze.


"Warren never knew his dad," Demi said. I kept my eyes on the boy riding the bicycle ahead us. "He was less then a year old when Andrew went chasing some dream in Alaska. He doesn't keep in touch anymore. I don't think he ever really wanted a kid." I put my arm around her shoulder, to offer what comfort I could.


"You aren't going to say I told you so about Andrew?" Demi wanted to know. I shook my head. "Not just yet," I said. "I'm waiting for the perfect moment." She nudged me in the side. Just below my ribs. Demi's nudge. I wondered how many of them I received in my years of being her friend.


-


26th March; 1:45am.


That night Anne and I made love for the first time in weeks. It seemed our schedules at the office, our frantic jousting in the small-town rat race, kept us too tired to think about just anything at all.


"You know, Chris," she said, "it's okay that you still love Demi a little. I looked down at her, her face mottled with light coming in from the street, and I was thankful for the semi-darkness. Thankful that she couldn't see my face, my eyes. I was never good at lying. "What are you talking about?" I asked. Anne laughed.


"I'm talking about the crush you have on Demi," she said. I was shocked, and I told her so. "Whatever makes you think such a thing?" I wanted to know. This amused her further. She lifted her head and looked squarely at me. I could finally make out her eyes, there on her face, dark ovals before me.


"You're kidding, right?" Anne asked. I shook my head I was feeling as embarrassed as a teenager caught with his hands beneath the bedsheets. But this time, by my wife , instead of my mother. "Demi is my childhood friend," I said. "She and Ross both." "All I'm saying is that it's alright that you've got a crush on her," said Anne. "I think it's just natural. After all, I still have a crush on Freddy Polanski."


"I do not have a crush on Demi Luke," I insisted. I could feel my face and my neck burning just a bit and was thankful again for the cover of darkness. I kicked my toes under the blanket, loosening from its tight tuck. I hated a tight tuck. "I think it's sweet," said Anne. "That's all." "There's nothing for you to think sweet," I said again, this time with a bit too much anger.

I knew Anne was waiting for this sign: anger in me meant she had hit the nail on the head. "Damn blanket!" I added, and kicked at it again with my feet. Anne giggled triumphantly, then turned her back to me. With a quick jerk she pulled her share of the cover over to her side. I said nothing for a long time.

We lay side by side, Anne's steady breathing keeping up with a sweet rhythm next to me in the dark. I watched the passing trail of lights race cross the ceiling. Cars headed home from the late movie showing at the theater just across our street. When I was certain that Anne had fallen into the first comfortable stages of sleep I flicked my toes against her bare leg under the cover.

"Hey," I said. "Hey, you. Wake up." Anne groaned as she pushed toward consciousness. "What?" she finally mumbled. "Who the hell is Freddy Polanski?"

Manipulation Subject: No. 4

My heart aches.

Yesterday was such a total suckfest. I didn't know why I did it in the first place. That one tiny or should I say one big decision was either gonna make me or break me. Well, it broke me & made him. Did he actually really listen to my personal message? I dont know. I just thought he never noticed things around him. Maybe the same excuse again. Your busy. I really thought he's be good....

I called yesterday night the moment Dad left the computer room. I quickly snatched th cordless from the charger & dialled your number in excitement. When I heard your voice on the other line, my heart did back-flips, rolls & spins. I was happy to hear him. He had been very busy for the past few days but at least yesterday I got him all to myself. And thats when all the nightmare began. Somethig I dreaded for a very long time.

"...a cool off."

Sure. We can cool off.

But something was very wrong. And maybe the decision I made was wrong too. It broke me down so badly that I cried into my pillows throughout the whole night, thinking I would never stop. Ever. I couldnt stop thinking. Then I started to get flashbacks. MY flashbacks.

The times where you would burp and I would try to burp as loud as I can. The times when we were on the phone & you would just go to the bathroom & just pee without caring I was there, knowing it made me so annoyed. The kisses I would have reluctantly give so that I could just get one small wet kiss? The sessions we'd have. And sometimes at the end of it, we would laugh?

It hurts so much to let the good memories go. I loved him so much. But sometimes one has to let go for something he has to do. I figured it was the best thing for you. But not for me. Andre, the truth is? You were basically my everything. Even though there were funny moments when you would snore on the when we slept together (which was really kinda funny!), I loved you all the more. You were the boy who would cheer me up & wipe away my tears when I cried, the person to be there for me when i needed a shoulder to cry on and not now... mother would be very upset that this.. US. is over.

She has been really looking forward to meet you. I'm not using it as an excuse or whatever. But its the truth. And without even telling chelsea, my kid sister knows.

"why did you do it erika? he loved you."

I still couldnt understand what you meant when you said, :"Erika, it doesnt have to end this way." You were so cold when you say that, you know? If only I could tape it down. Now all I have is happy memories of you and all the bullshit you threw to my face and that one big question mark on my head to why i did it. Sacrafice? Maybe not.

"No matter who or what which has been working hard at tearing us apart, my heart will always beat for you, Erika. Even if you fall in love with another guy, even if our paths cease to ever cross again, my heart will always be beating for you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I want to feel again. Love. Feeling very sappy now. Like, what can I say. My only excuse is that i'm very out of my element now and that i'm still a girl who wants to feel.

I threw all my 5 senses out of the window, wondering when I'll get it back...

Just You & Me!

Hurry Josh! I miss you! Come back here to Singapore!
I miss you truckloads. Coffee. You and me.
And cook for me the best dish you can serve to your bestfriend!

Ahhh, I just miss you so much, Josh.
So make it quick!

Different & The Same.

Zoned out. Over Medicated. Stoned. That's what everyone keeps saying behind my back. Nobody ever says it to my face. Not that I would notice even if they did. Guess that's what happens when you're reduced to a zombie. But it has nothing to do with drugs or alcohol. Depression? No.

It's about sleep. Not that I can't sleep; but that I don't want to. I don't like where my mind takes me. "Who are you? Who do you want?!" "I mean you no harm. This place... it haunts you. The darkness it brings is like poison in your soul. You must expose the truth for what it is."

I'm in the woods. It's very dark and I despise the dark. I'd like to use the word "Hate", but that word is too strong of a word for me to use. The lights are very glaring and I had a gut feeling that they were going to abduct me... again. Their slimy hands. Green skin, yuck!

"They're here!" "They know you are special and they want to know your secrets. You must look within to solve the mystery. It can help protect you from them."

"SSSTTTOOOPPP!!!"

"Where am i....?" "Meeeenaaamuahhhhhhhh!" "Who... who's there? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" "Don't touch her." "Please... Please help me." "You don't need my help." Suddenly, things seem to look clearer. He put my glasses on for me. "You simply need to look to your past, Piper."

I closed my eyes and pictured myself unlocking myself from the chains. Waaa-la! "Can't believe I did that." "Hey! Over here!" What? Me? That can't be me. But... how is this possible? I opened the door and dashed out of that stinking place.

As the images became clearer, so did the truth. They weren't monsters. They were just men. We just kept running. Not taking a chance to look back. My heart was pounding in my chest I swear it would've jumped out!

"That one's locked! Try the other one! ," said my twin. "Who are you? Why are you trying to help me?" "I'm your sister, Debbie! We were seperated at birth, this is my home. Don't make it yours! Now, go!" I slipped through the tiny hole with such ease. "Come on, Deb!" "It's too small... how did you...?"

"PIPER!" "NO!!!!!!!!!!"

-

"DEBBBBIIIEEEE!!!!!" "It's okay, Piper. It's all okay." I hugged my father very hard. I didn't want to let go. But why? Why Debbie? I... I remember now. There was nothing extraterresterial about my abduction that night. Those men violated my body and my mind before someone erasing the entire event from my memory.

Or, I should say, our memory. Because, now I know the truth. She isn't from my dreams. Debbie is from my past. I have a sister. I kept crying, not knowing when I would stop. "Doctor, she's having these dreams again. The dellusions of a sister... she seemed so good for so long. I dont understand what happened."

"It's okay, sometimes external forces trigger the episodes. You did the right thing by calling. Don't worry Ma'am. We'll be right over and do your daughter good... again."

Pieces Of Me.

My name is Ryan Tyler. I have recurring dreams consisting of a series of bizarre images, but each night, it ends the same way... with my own death.

-

If dreams are a way for the subconscious mind to send messages to the brain, then mine is just plain nagging, because I have the same dream every night... the same terrible dream.

"You're new. But being part of the dream, you already know that, don't you? Have you come to give me answers? Some understanding?" "Only you have the answers. Life is to be understood, it is nothing to be feared", said the pale looking boy.

"Great, I didn't think so." I looked out to the sea and up to the sky. Hues of blue. At this time of year in France? Couldn't get better thing this! "And again, we have crows... always seven. And here I thought that was a lucky number. What do you think? Oh, so it's going to be like that huh?"

He refused to say a word. I took a cold breathe in and exhaled out warmth. The atmosphere constantly changes. I looked away and made my way to the old grimacing castle that stood before me. The very same ones that you'd see in vampire movies. The gargoyles always gave me the creeps. But the structure of the Gothic building? Mind blowing.

Like I always said, I've had the same dream before. But still, each time it feels new.

"Ryannnnn..."

Hearing my own name always startles me. It sounds like it's coming for upstairs.

"Ryannnnn..." "Ryannnnn..."

But the higher I climb, the softer the voice becomes. "Ryannnn..." And then, it's gone... Ryan, this is your life. Parts of it anyway. I found myself in a very old dusty, Victorian-like church. On the glass panes of the church, I saw my past, the present & the future.The good, the bad and even the ugly.

The images makes my blood boil. I want to drive my fist through the glass. Erase it from my memory. It hurts too much to remember how Gloria left me... how she was taken away from me! This time, I understand. "That's strange. Is that me?"

I was happening to be looking right at myself into the mirror. Except, that wasn't me. "What are you smiling at?" My mirror image gave a smug smile and pulled me into the mirror. I found myself falling... "THUD."

-

I always heard, that if you die in your dream, you die in real life. Well, I die every time. So, what does that tell you? It tells me the freud was an idiot. Dreams don't mean squat. "True, dreams are not to be the focal point of our existence. That which is here, should remain.", the pale boy whispered into the lifeless body.

While you direct your attention elsewhere, focus on what matters most. The life that you still have.