Author: Dallas

Silence. One word. Says it all. Or does it? The deafening screams of the nighttime crawl against her skin like nails on a chalkboard in the middle of a classroom on a hot summer day. She has never heard anything louder than the carefully orchestrated sound of pure and absolute…silence. What a horrifying sound to wake up to. The night terrors had haunted Michelle ever since that night. A night of horror, or as John had said to her earlier that day, “Its going to be a night to remember”. Oh what a memory she had. Every minute detail down to the very second it all happened. Those images never went away. It was just as horrifying now, 10 years after the fact. And it replayed over and over..

10 years ago life was perfect for Michelle, as embraced the new title as Mrs. Natur. Finally, after all those years of struggling with boyfriend after boyfriend leaving her. She has finally settled down with the one who could handle her depressive waves. Because he too, also experienced the same. They understood each other, and they both knew when those moments came, to give each other space. Not that they didn’t want to wrap their arms around one another and tell them everything would be ok, they just knew it wouldn’t work. Their whole life they had been told the same thing over and over. “Everything will be ok”, and both of them hated hearing that. So they gave each other space. To self isolate until the waves went away on their own.

One evening, John had run into the very woman that hurt him the most in his past while he was out grocery shopping. Its not easy to just ‘let the past go’, when you see constant reminders throughout your everyday life. He was over her. He had clearly moved on, as most people would say. But that didn’t mean the mental trauma had moved on. The feeling of being left for someone else, hurt much worse than your typical breakup. Actions speak louder than words, and being left for someone else hurt deeper than anything. It meant you obviously weren’t good enough for the one you gave your all to.

Michelle noticed something was up the moment John came out. She wanted so desperately to reach out and talk to him, but she knew he would clam up and stay inside of his shell. Hidden behind the mask he put on even around the ones he loved most. Self isolation is self healing for some.

John worked his way upstairs after taking off his coat and setting his briefcase down just inside the front door. He didn’t bother removing his shoes, he just worked his way up the stairs and out of her sight.

As he walked into his bedroom, he immediately proceeded towards the bathroom located on the east side of the master bedroom, once inside he closed the door.

Reliving the past and replaying the feeling he had felt the moment she left was horrifying. He figured she had moved out of the city and that he would never have to worry about seeing her again, but was he wrong.

He placed his hands on the marble counter top and lowered his head. He couldn’t bear to see himself in the mirror. He couldn’t bear to see the worthless person that would be staring back at him. “Hey John…” He heard coming from somewhere near him. Confused, he lifted his head up. John would have heard if Michelle had come upstairs. But the voice he heard wasn’t hers. It sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint who it was as he looked around. Searching for someone. Who was in his house? He opened the bathroom door expected someone to be on the other side, but there was noone there. “Hey John…” He heard it again..only this time he heard it from behind him.

As he turned around to find the source of voice, he then immediately noticed it as he looked at the mirror. It was his own reflection. This was impossible. There was no way his reflection was speaking to him. So he stared intently at the man looking back at it. Nothing. “I’m losing my mind.” He said as he began shaking his head in disbelief. “No youre not.” He heard echo back, bouncing off the walls that enclosed this small bathroom. John looked at the mirror once more, and inched closer and closer until he was just inches from the mirror. He placed his hand on the glass, feeling around almost as if to see if it was broken somewhere and someone was talking through it from the other side.

As he was feeling around, he heard movement on the stairs. Michelle must be coming up to check on him, or to investigate who he was talking to. Because the voice wasn’t whispering. It was loud. As he slid his hand across the last part of the glass he hadn’t touched yet, he heard Michelle walk into the bedroom. “Is everything ok babe?” She said as she looked around for him and then saw he was in the bathroom and began to head that way.

The moment she reached the doorway, she heard the voice too. But this time it was scary, and what she saw was traumatizing to say the least. Just before her eyes, John was touching the mirror when out of nowhere a voice yelled out, almost in a demonic voice. “Yes, John, its me. Your past reflection. Welcome back. Now, get over here.”

Just like that, the reflection seemed to reach out through the glass mirror and grab John and pull him in. Like a vacuuming black hole. “No!” Michelle cried out, as John disappeared into what the voice called “The Past”. Everything grew eerily quiet. Michelle fell to the ground in disbelief. The fear alone prevented tears from flowing. She couldn’t understand what just happened. It was like she was witnessing a live action nightmare in 1080 HD. She was so confused, in disbelief, in shock.

Would it happen to her? Why John though? Life has moved on. Things are so much better now. She finally pieced together what was truly going on. It was only a matter of time before it came to get her. It wouldn’t be long before she too, would get pulled back into “The Past.”

Sitting at the airport typing this. Awaiting my journey back to the treacherous hell known as Arizona. A place where the sun penetrates through every cell and molecule that makes up what is known as me. Dehydration happens the second my feet touch down to the burning pavement that sits below my two feet. If hell had an actual location…its Arizona. A place where souls burn alive under the sun. No relaxation. No palm trees. No….shade. Its not just the sun that penetrates each layer of skin…no..thats what happens from the outside in.

The environment, the memories, the had it all…lost it all… never forgotten and easily remembered memories. The ones that rip you apart from the inside out. Starting with your heart and pulsating through each vein until your screaming for it to end. The things you once cherished and loved… are the same things that have calloused your heart to the point it has become petrified. And even the slightest disappointment or heartbreak will shatter it to pieces.

Unlike most things that are petrified, this heart is not locked away for safe keeping. This heart is not guarded by security working around the clock to preserve what little is left. No. This heart is open.. windows broken..no 2 by 4s holding it together. It is set to collapse any minute. So if you have a piece of it. Hold on tight.. For that may be the only thing left of it thats worth keeping.

Ive given away all of the hope that the heart once carried..whats left has been dried out and rotten to the core. Ive wasted all the talent it once carried. Whats left has been walking a tightrope for the past few years… careful to not slip and fall into a darkness no man can understand.

A place where love is non existent and hope is no where to be found. No longer a home full of love, this heart is nothing more than a house. A house I live in alone. Love dont live here anymore..

So as I continue my tightrope journey, walk with me if you will. But don’t try to balance me. The rope is thin and the fall is long. So keep your distance and do your best to not get too close. This heart just isn’t ready for another destructive heartbreak. This heart has been flying everywhere else but where it needs to be. This heart is on an endless journey, hoping to touchdown one day at the right landing spot.. This heart leaves a piece of it everywhere it goes. Eventually the puzzle will fall apart in a way that it can no longer be put together. But you, and only you have the antidote. The super glue to mend it all together. The only question is: where the fuck are you?

Max sat the pen down. “Holy shit.” He said out loud. Even he surprised himself with the way he wrote that blog. He had been known as the Mystery Heart Blogger for years. Never having made his identity known, he always posted anonymously.

His personal and passionate blogs touched every broken hearted women’s heart to the point that he seemed like the knight in shining armor. The man everyone fantasized about having. Granted, they didn’t know for sure if it was a man or a woman writing the blogs, the way they were written pretty much made it obvious it was a man who had his heart broken one too many times.

Something felt perfect about this story. “I think its time.” Max said, once again out loud to himself in his empty apartment. Even though it wasn’t a direct reply, his echo made it feel like someone else was there with him, listening. It was time to make his identity known. To publish the blog under his actual name. To stop being anonymous. To finally open up and let people in. It was time to open up the Petrified Puzzle Heart for the world to see. Are you ready to begin the tour?

THE LIGHT BEARER:

The sun had been down going on 21 days now. A darkness unbearable even to the creatures of the night. As amazing as it sounds, it is quite the opposite. The sun metaphoric for the light that had once been inside of 30 year old Andrew’s life. But she was gone now. 1300 miles away. And here he was covered by dark clouds that brought nothing but storms into his life. Trapped inside the tornado ripping apart everything in sight until all that was left was nothing. When it rains…it pours… Not just isolated thunderstorms bringing out nothing but a light sprinkle…no.

These storms were destructive. The clouds attracted to Andrew like he was some kind of magnetic field pulling in all the negative, and harmful thunderclaps and lightning strikes. To everyone else in Apache County, Mother Nature was providing a comfortable weather full of sunshine and blue skies. But much like his very own mother, Mother Nature despised him. Rejected him. Was out to destroy him. How can women have so much of a destructive impact on one’s life? Living in the dark for so long, anytime a good woman came into poor old Andrew’s life…he’d just push them away. Because something so good and beautiful and healthy for him seemed nothing more than a fairytale.

The women of his past all presented themselves as a perfect little lamb when they first came into his life. Without blemish. Pure and holy. And hed be damned if he allowed himself to fall into that deceptive lie again. So here he sat. Alone in the dark. Searching for the light at the end of the tunnel when there were none in sight. Not a single fluorescent glow peeping through any crack of the night. It was dark. It was scary. It was unbearable. A darkness darker than anything hed ever seen in his life.

Now he was walking blind. On a journey. A journey to find a way out of the dark. Someone, somewhere, would be the light bearer he’d been searching for for so long. A carrier of hope when all hope seemed gone. Somehow, someway, he was determined to find them. The worst part about the darkness, is that light bearer could be right in front of him…but he’s surrounded himself with darkness that would prevent him from seeing them. But he continues searching. Theres still hope. There always is.

DREAM FOREVER:

“The stars look perfect tonight.” Katie had said out loud to her husband Mike as they lay atop the trampoline that sat in their back yard. Many years ago, their children, now fully grown adults, spent more time on this trampoline than they did anywhere else in the small town of Hugo, Nebraska.

Hugo was a place where many families flourished to, to raise their children and eventually retire at. The white picket fence type of town where mothers got together for tea gatherings, dressed up in their fancy casual attire and sat on the back patio admiring God’s creation.

“They sure do.” Mike replied. “But not as perfect as you.” He turned his head with a smile on his face. To change his view from the beautiful nightime sky to his beautiful and perfect wife of 30 years. As he looked over in her direction, she was gone.

She’d been gone. Matter of fact, she only existed at times when being alone drove him to the point that he was envisioning her there next to him. His whole life had been spent searching for the perfect woman to be by his side. Theres a saying that goes, “speak it into existence”, but for Mike, he preferred “envisioning it into existence.” The perfect life, the perfect woman….only existed in dreams.

Sleep was the one thing he enjoyed the most at age 67. Because in his sleep, in his dreams, nothing else mattered. Everything was perfect. Being awake was a punishment, and sleep was a heavenly vacation. Dreams were the ultimate paradise. If only, he could dream forever…

ARE WE TRULY FREE??

Freedom: ..The state of not being imprisoned or enslaved.

His professor, Professor Hunt, of the English 101 class, had issued a homework assignment to be based on what the word Freedom meant to each of the students. They were allowed to research anything they wanted in regards to freedom and must write a 2000 word essay on what they felt freedom meant to them personally and present it to the class. He was big on public speaking, which many of the introverts absolutely hated. But he believed it to be effective in personal growth. To break free from the shell we all hide in. So they were forced to suck it up and present their assignment in front of the class of 47.

“Ok so granted that isn’t the direct definition of freedom. Just the definition I found most fitting for the headline to the story I’m about to present you with.” Zeke said out loud to his fellow classmates of Liberty Junior College.

Zeke was normally a think outside of the box kind of guy. A “go against the grain” type. So his overthinking automatically assumed all of the other students were going to rant on about the freedom we have as Americans. It would be the same story, just told in 46 different styles. He wanted to be different. To get deep and personal with what freedom really meant to him. After the experiences he had had in life, freedom had a whole different meaning. Hence why he chose the definition he used as the headline when he began his presentation.

“I used that definition because its not what you would normally think of when you think of freedom. But I bet it got your attention didn’t it?” He looked around as he heard some of the classmates chuckle. As he looked around the room, he could feel every eye on him. No one was distracted by their cell phones or laptops. All eyes were on him. He had already won them over, and he had only just begun.

“To us…civilians, our definition of freedom can be completely different than the inmate whos been behind bars for 20 years. Different life experiences bring different views on things for us. Granted my presentation is not about an inmate who’s been locked up most of his life. No. My presentation is about every single one of us in this room today. We may not be in a physical prison, but we are all prisoners of our own minds.”

“We all have issues we face with every day. Whether it be anxiety, depression, worry, jealousy, any of the above, and many not listed. There are things we are chained down to mentally that we just can’t escape from. So unlike the prisoner who’s been locked up for 20 years… we have all been locked up and tied down our whole life. Held captive by the things we have no control over. Everything can be going fantastic until the depression, aka, the prison guard comes knocking and mentally locks us up in solitary confinement. We become isolated. We can’t speak to others, we shut down and stay in our cell. Sometimes we don’t eat, sometimes we don’t even get “rec” time. We just stay in the dark.”

He could see everyone inching forward to be able to hear him better. He was no mental health counselor or psychologist. But having book knowledge about mental health issues aint shit compared to personal experience.

“Freedom to me, is not about living in a free country. Freedom to me is nothing but fantasy. A dream that will never come true. When you struggle every day to wake up, to take on the world, to even meet people, because your trapped inside your own mental prison with no way out, freedom is nothing but false hope. To me, to truly be free….is to live free of those things. To truly be happy every minute of every single day. To enjoy life to the fullest and never have to worry about being let down or having your heartbroken. Everyone always wishes for world peace but can’t find a way to make that happen. I say, find a 100 percent effective cure for depression, anxiety, ptsd, and many others, and the peace will bring itself to the world. The stars will align. Then, and only then, will we truly know what its like to experience true freedom.”

His self cockiness and feeling like he actually just impacted every single one of his fellow classmates, he dropped the mic. Case closed. ‘Beat that’ he said to himself as he watched everyone rise to their feet and give him a standing ovation. Even the professor was on his feet clapping, with tears in his eyes. Maybe now, people would actually understand why he is the quiet kid in the classroom. And maybe, just maybe, he was able to help others break out of their shells. Maybe that finally meant his one wish would finally come true. Maybe, he’d finally be able to make a friend…

Isabel sat perched up against the cobblestone wall that surrounded her in every direction. A beautiful young lady in her mid 20’s with a fascinating bouquet of platinum blonde dreads peering down to the top of her shoulders. A fierce penetrating look in her deep hazel eyes peered around the room. She thought it was quite ridiculous that she had to be strapped down by these rustic chains, connected to a bolt planted deep into the dirt of a ground she was seated on. Normally she would have been able to escape, since dirt is quite easy to wiggle around with and break loose. But this time was different. They had firmly secured it at least 5 feet deep, a depth that was impossible to break.

It was just yesterday that the hideous Orc brought her here. One she hadn’t recognized, which was strange because she had been here most of her life and knew almost all of them, most of them not in a good way. A foreigner she thought as she carefully examined his build, searching for a moment of weakness to break free from his death grip. Mortuz was his name, she only knew that because she was eavesdropping in on his boss giving him orders. But something seemed different about this one. Despite his out of the norm, deep sapphire shade of blue color to his monstrous body, he just seemed…different. Something she found very intriguing to say the least. She knew she could use it to her advantage, if only she could figure out what that was.

Throughout all of this mess, she found it quite satisfying to cause a ruckus with the beautiful symphony of the chain orchestra. Making melodies out of swinging the chains almost in like a whipping style pattern with the occasional hi-hat moment when she would flick her wrist and they would echo off of the wall. Mortuz didn’t mind. He sat outside of her cell and was on watch duty until other others were given.

Isabel could feel his eyes staring at her, and every time she turned her head to look at him, he would quickly look the other way. She found it. His weakness. And it was her disturbing form of charm that was going to help her escape. But first she had to gain his trust.

“I hope you know I didn’t steal the Albus. They set me up. You see me? I’m a tiny women, how on Earth would I be able to carry a thousand of them? Surely I’m not that strong!” The Albus was the form of currency that only the kings had access to. A currency designed specifically for the noble, the kings, the rich, if you will. She heard a grunt as she looked at his one dagger style tooth that overlapped the outside of his upper lip. He began to shake his head, in what appeared to be an agreement with her previous statement.

Now that the ice was broken, she desperately fought for his attention even more. His FULL attention. “Mortuz? That’s your name right? I heard one of your buddies call you that. I’m Isabel.” She watched as he nervously glanced up at her but quickly look away. “Hey! Look at me please.” Once again he raised his head and their eyes locked. She could see the battle scars scattered throughout his facial complex. A 3 inch scar running from his right eyebrow down to the base of his nose stopping just inches from his lips. She saw other scars all over him. Some of the almost white like as whatever had cut him had peeled off layers of his sapphire scale mounted skin.

“Look at these chains. Look at my wrists. See that? Their starting to dig into my skin. It hurts. You know I’m a beautiful girl. I can see it in the way you look at me. But, I wouldn’t be so beautiful anymore if I stayed in these chains that are peeling off my beauty layer by layer now would I?” She watched as her lowered his head and buried them deep into his hands. ‘Hes a softy’ she thought. It was at that moment she knew she knew she had him.

Isabel could see that he wasn’t like the others. Eve though he appeared to have fought a lot of battles, she could tell he didn’t enjoy it. It was almost like he was a slave to the other Orcs. And that was something she could relate to. The feeling of not belonging. Or trapped in a position you absolutely hated, oh how she could relate.

She soon began to develop a heart for him. Not because her plan was to win him over and gain his trust just so she could be free, no, she genuinely began to care about him. And something deep down in her heart couldn’t just leave him here, probably to end up killed by the others after she were to break free. As she thought to herself, ‘ If I can get out, hes coming with me’, she began to develop a plan.

“I know you hate what you do for the others. I get it. I can see just by looking at you that you want to get away. I’m right, aren’t I?” She watched as his eyes slowly began to tear up as he grunted to acknowledge her. A grunt she understand simply as …’yes’.

“I see.” She said as she looked at him as he continued to wipe the tears away from his eyes. “You and me both. Two is always better than one right? If we work together we can get out of here once and for all. My father, bless his heart, has about 1000 acres of land, roughly 7 kilometers from here. There’s plenty of room for us to hide out. Is that something you’d be interested in?” His head immediately began to move up and down signaling a yes. It was then that she explained the plan to him.

Within a matter of minutes Mortuz stepped away from the door leading to her holding cell and returned with the keys to unlock the chains that so rudely had tied her down. As he unlocked the final one, she grabbed his monstrous hands that were 3 times the size of hers. “Thank you.” She said as she looked him in the eyes, and planted a kiss on what she figured was his cheek. And they began their escape.

As they reached the door to the outside world, they could hear the other Orcs yelling, well, more like heavily grunting at them as they sprinted towards them. Mortuz then set fire to the entryway with the fuses he had gathered together before they began their escape. As he watched the entryway erupt in flames, they both watched for just a few seconds, satisfied because they knew there was no way anyone was getting out of there. Would the whole castle erupt and then eventually collapse? That was the goal, but they definitely weren’t sticking around to find out.

As the flames increased they sprinted and ran as fast as they could. “No looking back.” Mortuz cried out, as Isabel’s jaw dropped in surprise. “You speak! How? Why?”. As they continued running, there was a few seconds before Mortuz had replied as they both began breathing heaving. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but I’d like you to find out.” She smiled as she grabbed his hand and they drifted off into the land with one destination in mind. The city of Goffix was nothing but a rear view town etched in the back of their minds as they journeyed on towards a new life together.

It all happened at once. Blindsided by an invisible force that lies deep within the shadows of the outer realm. More than just a coincidence as some would argue, everyone just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. All cell phones, computers, anything powered by electricity was shut down. Technology as we all know and love – gone. No explanation. No answers. No-one knew anything about what caused this massive wipe-out of the world as we know it. Or so they thought.

Sam Truvli. Years ahead of his prime has now wiped out an entire platform dedicated to checking their Facebook accounts, or hash-tagging this or that. All the while sipping on the iced cold caramel frappuccinos while walking around gazing at nothing but their stupid little phones. As he looks outside of the window of his second story two bedroom apartment inside the core of downtown Phoenix, he watches, and laughs at all of the people running around looking as confused as a bird would look trying to swim across the Atlantic.

“Step one: check.” He murmurs to himself as his master plan all begins to unravel. One step at a time….