Writing Challenge: Part X

Note: This is in a desperate need of a rewrite. Read at your own risk!

I received an email from my mother. Rather than explain what is in the letter, I’ll just let you read it:

I’m sorry I can’t see you in person. It seems circumstances have become my enemy. I hope to see you again soon. In the mean time, I know I owe you some explanations. I’ll explain what I can. The rest will have to wait until we see each other in person. Please don’t put this in your blog.

First thing is first. Becky, Jewel, and I are doing fine. Becky has fully recovered, and even is looking forward to taking Domonic on again. She said it was the best night she had in a long time. Fortunately we convinced her she should stay with us in hiding, by asking her to help protect us. On a related note, I don’t want you hanging out with Becky anymore. She is a very bad influence, and more than a little dangerous.

That is enough of the present. What you really need to know is the past. Where should I begin? I suppose it ought to be the beginning.

A long, long time ago, in the way, way, way back when there were men and women. These men and women died. Some of them, very few of them, were given the opportunity to come back as something more. Depending on the circumstances of their rebirth (so to speak) they came back into one of two groups. The first group is ruled by ambition, and the quest for strength and power. The second group is ruled by intimacy, compassion, and sympathy.

For a long time these two provided balance to each other. Eventually the first group (the group Becky, Domonic, and the other men from that night belong to) became known as demons, and the second (the group me and Jewel belong to) became known as angels.

Although demons and angels are normally associated with god, that isn’t the case in reality. I’ve never met or know of anyone that could rightfully claim to be God (or any deity). I also have never seen any evidence that God doesn’t exist. It is as much a mystery to us as it is to you.

A long time ago, in the way back when, one of the demons gathered together an army and waged a war against the angels. This person sought out all demons that sought to be strong physically and mentally, and that sought to prove their strength in battle.

I’m unsure as to why they decided to attack us. To this day, those that were involved say it was because they got tired of angels interfering with their plans. I suspect there are other reasons though, not the least of which is simply because they could.

Angels, although physically stronger than humans, were not quite as adept towards war as the demons were. Out main advantage was that we outnumbered those demons that chose to fight. For two centuries the two sides battled each other. Finally the angels gathered together for one final assault that they hoped would end the war. It did, but not in their favor.

Since then the same group of demons hunted down the remaining angels and killed them. As far as I know me and Jewel are the only two left. There are occasionally new angels born, but even with guidance it takes time to learn to control their abilities. That makes it easy for the demons to hunt them down and kill them.

That leads to the next set of questions I’m sure you have been waiting to ask: our abilities. While angels and demons are very different from each other both mentally and physically, there is one similarity. W are both immortal, and can effectively only be killed by each other.

Beyond that, we are opposites of each other. Angels are twice as fast, but half as strong. This is why we carry small swords and use bows, while the demons tend to wield large heavy weapons. It is also why we seem to disappear at one place and instantly reappear at another. As you might have guessed we are just moving too quickly for you to see. While running, demons can maintain their top speed for hours. We can only maintain ours for a short distance.

We also heal much faster, but our bodies are not as durable. For example, if I were to be shot, the bullet would travel through me and the wound would heal almost instantly. If a demon were to be shot, the bullet would bounce off him.

I’m sure your also curious about the glowing weapon thing we do. It’s a pretty cool effect eh? Our weapons are made from a special allow which allows us to imbue part of our spiritual energy into them. It also helps angles bodies heal faster and demon’s bodies to sustain more damage. The more energy we put into our weapons the more damage they can do, but it means our bodies can sustain less damage before we die.

All living creatures produce this spiritual energy. The difference is the amount produced, the amount that can be stored, and the amount that can be controlled.

There are a wide variety of all 3 for both angels and demons. It is the later two that matters most in a fight. Although skill is important, those that can contain a large amount of spiritual energy and unleash it quickly have a significant advantage.

There is a lot more of course, but enough technical details for now. I’m sure your also curious as to why I didn’t come to see you sooner and tell you the truth. Well it was a year and a half before I came back (yes it often takes that long).

After I came back, Becky was the first to find me. She was sent to kill me by the others. To this day I have no idea why she didn’t. I was confused and helpless. You might think it was pity or compassion. If you think that, then you obviously don’t know Becky very well. I honestly think she was just bored and wanted to fight a well-trained and powerful angel.

Instead she hid me, and began training me. It was difficult. She is a fantastic warrior, but her abilities are vastly different then mine. She forced me to fight her over and over again for years. It was nothing less than torture. I honestly tried to kill her every time. Alas, she was just too good. Till this day I have not been able to even do her any significant harm. They were the worst years of my life.

They were also the reason I’m still alive. With out her training, I’m sure I would have died a long time ago and so would have Jewel. For that I’m very thankful.
I’m sure that you have more questions, but they will have to wait. We are still being pursued by the demons. It isn’t safe for me to come to you yet. If I find any way of seeing you without putting your life in danger, I promise to do so.

Until then know that I love you, and I have always loved you. I will try contacting you when ever I’m able. Good bye for now.

Mom

Writing Challenge: Part IX

Note: I haven't cleaned this up. Read at your own risk

I stepped off the plane and took a big breath. I had arrived. Step one of my search is complete. I just had no idea what step 2 should be. Luggage. That’s step 2. I found the signs that lead to the baggage claim. Step 2 is in progress. There is no need to worry about step 3 yet.

As is my habit, I’m getting ahead of myself. It has been 3 months since Jewel gave me the letter from the women who claimed to be my mother. When most of my classmates where getting their resumes together after graduation, I was obsessively searching the internet looking for any information about her.

After about a month of searching, I almost concluded that there was nothing out there (or I just didn’t know what to search for). Then I found an article from London about a woman that saved a little boy from a speeding car.

The witness’s events were sketchy. The witnesses said a women fitting her description came out of no where and carried the kid to safety. It was obvious from their wording that they were hiding something, but couldn’t for some reason say anything. Was she threatening them?

It was a really, really, really long shot, but I couldn’t find anything else. I had to do something, so I bought a ticket off my credit card. I had to buy the ticket’s a month in advance just to be able to afford them.

So here I am now, waiting for my baggage, and trying to come up with step 3 of my increasingly lame plan to find my dead mother in a foreign country. I guess talk to the witnesses. Maybe they will be more forth coming to me then to police or reporters.

“Hi! You are Stacy’s kid, aren’t you?” Startled I looked up to see who was speaking. I looked around for the conversation I was over hearing, but the woman that spoke was standing right in front of me. She was obviously talking to me. She had long black hair and brown eyes. She had beautiful soft dark skin, but she wasn’t African. Maybe she was from a South East Asia or middle eastern decent? She was short (about 5 feet), and stalky, although not quite fat. She seemed quite muscular, but still very attractive. She had old blue jeans and a t-shirt on.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“The name’s Rebecca - the real Rebecca, but please call me Becky. I tend to kill the people that call me Rebecca. You wrote that blog about us, about your mother? Your grammar sucks. Didn’t you ever take an English class?” She said as she sat down next to me.

“Who are you?” I blurted. I think she was intentionally confusing me.

“I’m an acquaintance of Stacy’s, your mother’s. I’m looking for her as well. Well I’m really looking for the people that are looking for her, but she is easier to find. She always sucked at hiding. That’s caused me no end of grief,” she said.

It seemed every time she opened her mouth, I became even more confused. There were so many questions rolling around my head I had to take a moment to organize them. She kept silent, and waited for me to speak. Finally I decided on the first question. Really the only question that mattered at the moment: “Who are you?”

Becky smiled. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise. Ooo there’s your bag. Lets go. We have an old friend to meet.”

I thought about refusing to go. I was about to go into a dangerous world, and I wasn’t sure I was fully prepared. I imagined myself back home, safe and sound, and not knowing who Rebecca (my Rebecca, or should I just start calling her Stacy?) really was. If she was my mother, and if not how she got a hold of her ring that was suppose to be buried with her. I also wouldn’t know who this Rebecca was, and how she was connected to Stacy.

My mind made up I looked for Rebecca. She was already a few yards away from the exit. “Who is she?” I yelled as I tried to catch up. “This person we are meeting.”

“It’s so much more fun not knowing. Don’t you like surprises?” she said. “Trust me!” she added after seeing the concerned look on my face.

She led me to her car. I really expected it to be some kind of sports car, probably red. I was surprised when she got out her keys and put them into the door of an old beat up Volvo. She had to lean over and unlock the passenger door to let me in.

Her driving left me mostly speechless the entire way. I’m pretty sure I left claw marks on the dash, and it looks like mine were not the only ones there. She pegged the gas petal to the floor, and rarely used the breaks. She nearly hit every car, some pedestrians, and most posts along the way. I could handle all of that, but she also looked directly at me for long periods of time as she talked.

I didn’t pay attention to most of what she was saying. I was busy praying to survive the trip and for a police officer to pull us over so I could get out. She was talking about my blog. First she pointed out all the grammar mistakes (not that I can remember any of them now). She then said something about how it shouldn’t have been possible for me to write any of it, and that I must have some kind of gift, whatever that means. Honestly, of all the questions circling in my head that ranked near the bottom, so I let it drop without saying much.

We stopped suddenly. When I looked around I noticed the car was parked perfectly in a spot on the street. I wondered why everyone around was staring at us, but then I realized the screeching tires would have attracted their attention. I had gotten use to the sound during the ride. I noticed Becky looking across the street, and assumed that was where we were going. I leaned forward to get a clear view through the driver side window. It was a bar. Not the typical London pub. I could hear laud music coming from the place even across the street, but it didn’t look like a typical dance club anyways.

It was a typical down town London street. Most of the buildings were brick or plaster. The streetlights gave an eerie glow off the buildings. It reminded me a lot of the jack the ripper stories you always here about. The rest of the buildings looked like stores or offices. Obviously they were empty or the pub would never be allowed to be so laud.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“A pub, obviously. It’s karaoke night tonight. That’s why the laud music. Usually its just drunk assholes screaming at the TV, which is often lauder,” she said. “Come on.”

We walked into the bar and began looking around. It was a fairly large bar, with a lot of people. Thankfully the bar wasn’t filled with smoke like it usually is back home in the states. After a few minutes I spotted Jewel at the end of the bar drinking what looked like water. Jewel, that’s who we were meeting. I was hoping it would be my mother, so that I could get my answers and go home before it got too dangerous.

A man was talking to her, obviously trying to pick her up. When we approached, Becky said “Hi! Who are you?”

“Geoff. Hi. I’m trying to convince your friend to let me buy her a drink,” he replied. He seemed pretty charming. He might have had a shot with anyone else in the bar.

“I would rather you didn’t do that,” Becky said with a frown. “She is my wife, and I’m the jealous type.” Shocked she would say such a thing, I glanced at Becky, then looked at Jewel to see how she would react. She was far more shocked that I, but didn’t say anything. She stared at Becky for a moment, then shook her head and turned her gaze to her glass. If I didn’t know her any better (and I didn’t really), I would think she was wishing she ordered scotch instead of water.

It also took Geoff several seconds to recover, but he finally spoke, “Um…Sorry. I didn’t know. Um…Why don’t I buy you both a drink?” he asked timidly. Becky didn’t torture him further, and dismissed him with a “No, thank you”

“She already left town,” Jewel said the moment Geoff was out of earshot. “She left last week, but her search party is still in town. I don’t know where she went, but if I had to guess, I would say Russia. Her Russian is pretty good and she should pass as one of them.”

“Could you help us track her down?” I asked anxiously.

“No. I wouldn’t even if I could. It is too dangerous even for me,” she replied, and took a sip of her water.

“I can take care of myself. I must find her. Besides how tough could they possibly be?” I said. I knew it was futile, but I had to try.

“I didn’t mean from them. I meant from your mother. She would kill me,” she replied. The words took me by surprise. It was the first time I had absolute confirmation that she was my mother. It was getting to be far to strange for me.

“What about you?” Jewel said, turning her attention to Becky. “Why do you want to find her?”

“I have my reasons. Do you know where the people tracking her are now? Are they still in town?” She replied. Jewel lifted her eyebrow in surprise. Obviously she read more into that question than I did.

“Ah, so that’s why the sudden interest in your old friend. Your after revenge,” she said with a disapproving look.

“So you know then. Good then we can skip the explanations. Can we also skip the lecture? I know how you guys like a good lecturing, but I honestly wouldn’t be listening anyways,” she said. Before Jewel could respond something caught their attention at the entrance. They both stared at the door for a few seconds.

“Why yes. I do happen to know were Stacy’s trackers are,” Jewel said. It was a joke. Obviously they had just entered the bar, but I couldn’t tell who they were.

“Excellent,” Becky said, and began walking towards the entrance. Jewel grabbed her arm before she could take a second step.

“You can’t fight them here! People will get hurt. Besides we must get him to safety first,” she said. Becky looked disappointed, but relented. I however, backed away before Jewel could grab me.

“We have to hurry. They are going to spot us any second!” she said.

“I’m not going anywhere until someone explains who they are!” I did my best to look confident. I’m pretty sure it didn’t work.

“They're nobody,” Jewel said.

“They’re demons,” Becky said.

Jewel gave her a disappointed look as if she just caught her daughter with a stolen cooker in her mouth. “You were not suppose to tell him that!”

“Relax, he isn’t likely going to survive anyways,” Becky replied dismissively. She still hadn’t taken her eyes off the person now walking through the bar.

My attention was on Becky, hoping she would continue to give me answers. Jewel was clearly much more concerned with leaving. “So your all demons? And my mother?”

“No. Your mother and I are angels. That is why they are here. They are part of a group that hunt and kill us angels. We really don’t have time for this. Can you please just trust me?” Jewel pleaded.

“Why can’t you call on God to help us? I mean your angels right?”

Becky laughed. “Don’t be so gullible kid. None of us, no angel or demon has ever known or heard about God. It is all just as big of a mystery to us as it is to you.”

I looked at Jewel. She glanced at the demon, who was now walking towards our end of the bar. If he didn’t see us by now, he would in seconds. She grabbed my hand. “I was alive, died, and came back as this. That is all I know. No more questions. They are extremely powerful and dangerous. If they find us here they will kill us all! Now come with us.”

I let her pull me towards the back exit. Becky hesitated for a second then followed. We pushed our way through the crowd, made our way through the kitchen, and out the back door, only to be greeted by 3 strange men.

They were all young. They couldn’t possibly be older than 18. They all had T-shirts and blue jeans on. The man standing in the middle to us had short blond hair. The other two had darker hair, one short, and the other long past his shoulders, but in a ponytail.

My eyes moved from them to Jewel. She had a look of utter fear across her face. She looked from them to Becky, who had an evil grin, as if this was the best birthday present she could ask for.

“Rebecca,” he called. “Long time no see. I’m glad your doing well.” Rebecca knows these people personally? What did I get myself into?

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” She replied sarcastically.

“Well we only came for her. Don’t interfere and you can go free,” he offered.

“What a coincidence. I came here for Dominic. So if you don’t interfere, I’ll still kill you. So your just screwed in that regard I guess,” she replied.

All three laughed. There was a fourth sound of laughter coming from behind us. The man chasing us out of the bar had come through the door as well. Becky took a few steps towards the 3 men in front ignoring the man behind.

“Why so confident? In all the times we spared during our training together, you never once beat me,” he said. Turning to his companions he added, “Don’t worry about her. I can handle it.” He then grabbed a large war axe that had been attached to his back. I had not noticed it before? How could I not notice someone caring a big axe around? The axe itself was almost 3 feet. It had a double edge, with a semicircle as a main edge that was at least a one and a half foot in diameter. The second edge was smaller. Both edges were steel (or something similar) and looked very sharp. The shaft was a wood color, but was too smooth to be real wood. Metal or marble maybe?

Becky grabbed her own axe from her back. I had been with her for several hours. How could I not notice her axe at all? Especially considering the size of it. It was almost the same size as she was, at least 5 feet in all. It was also double edged, with the secondary edge as large as her opponent’s main edge. Her main edge was about 1 and a half feet in diameter, with the top shaped in an odd way to create a point at the tip. The edges were steel as well. The shaft was black with multiple handholds. The end was shaped in a sharp point.

She swung her axe across her shoulders so it was parallel to them, and lazily hung her hand around the end holding it balance. “I should warn you. Don’t take our encounters before so seriously. I never did. I was much stronger than I appeared, and even stronger now,” she said.

“Ha, we’ll see,” he said just before closing the gap between them impossibly fast. He struck straight down on her with all of his might. She easily blocked it with the handle from her axe. He made several more strikes. She blocked each easily. He struck again this time at an angle. She dodged the blade almost lazily, which left an opening for her to ram the point of her handle through her chest. His axe fell to the ground, followed by him falling to his knees.

“How?” he said in surprise.

“Like I said, I never took our fights before seriously. I wanted to avoid a higher ranking. If your not the strongest, then what is the point of being the second strongest?”

“I see,” he said between deep breaths. “Lets see how strong you really are. Get her!” The two men had already sprung into action before the order had been given, but so had Becky. She swung her huge axe down on the man to her right.

I was distracted by a swoosh beside me as the fourth man sliced the air were Jewel used to be. She was now several feet away, holding a sword. It was a typical medieval double-edged sword with a sparkling jewel in its hilt. The handle was barely big enough for both of her hands, and the blade was a little over 2 feet. It looked more like a knife in comparison to the huge weapons everyone else was wielding.

Undeterred, the man leapt at her again. She dodged his attack and countered, but he managed to block it just in time. He lunged at her with another powerful attack. She disappeared and reappeared a few feet away. It was like she able to transport herself.

“I can see your now used to fighting us,” she said to her opponent, reading the shock on his face.

He chuckled and said, “Well there aren’t many of you left are there? There are reasons for that though, so don’t get cocky. I was just starting to have fun.”

I saw no way to help either of them. Feeling helpless, I backed up against the door to the bar so at least no one else could wonder out here and possibly get hurt. I then turned my attention back to Becky.

Her opponent that was on the right was dead already, almost cut in half, presumably by her initial attack. The leader had managed to get up and was now fighting with his comrade. How could he shrug off an injury like a huge gapping whole in his chest? It was all too much for me. I could do nothing but watch the epic battles in front of me.

Becky seemed to have no trouble with any of this. She easily blocked or dodged both her opponents’ attacks. It was like watching a professional with years of experience battle a couple of high school amateurs. It seems from the look on her face the only reason they haven’t been defeated yet was because she was enjoying it too much.

A scream from Jewel brought my attention back to her fight now raging on the opposite side of the ally. She had a deep slash across her body. She was panting heavily. The tip of her sword was resting on the ground as if it was now too heavy to carry. Her opponent attacked again. She transported herself a few feet away, but he was too quick for her. She tried to block his attack, but it was too powerful. She managed to deflect it slightly, so it sliced across her shoulder instead of through her main body.

Her heavy breaths were audible, as blood began to soak her shirt and drip to the ground from her 2 slashes. “Ha! I expected more from you,” the man taunted.

She lifted her sword, “I’m not finished yet!” she yelled, and again transported herself behind him, slashing through his back before he could react. He fell to the ground, but was immediately on his feet again. She lunged at him again, trying to keep her advantage, but he was more prepared this time and was able to block her attack.

Before he could counter a scream from one of his comrades fighting Becky distracted him. I turned my attention back to that fight just in time to see Becky pull the pointed edge of her handle out of the chest of one of her opponents and deliver a finishing blow to him.

She lazily swung her axe across her shoulders again as she faced her final opponent, their leader. She smiled as his face turned from shock to anger.
“Bitch! How could you be this strong? How could you have hidden this from all of us?”

“It was easy. I never fought at my full strength, not against you anyways. I’m still not. It’s slightly more entertaining that way,” she said as if she was explaining something to a child.

He threw himself at her relaying more on his anger and raw power then his skill. She dodged his blow at the last moment, and stuck her pointed handle through his back as he rushed by. Wasting no more time, she dealt the finishing blow, slashing her axe through his back.

She slung her axe on her shoulder once more as she walked over to me. Standing beside me she surveyed the other battle between Jewel and the last remaining man that attacked us.

Jewel was in bad shape. She had suffered another blow and seemed to have lost the ability to move her arm. Her opponent had his share of wounds but clearly she was no match for him. I didn’t see anyway she could win.

“I don’t think she can give us any more information. We should go before the cops show up. It isn’t like I can explain any of this, at least not in a way to keep us out of jail,” she said.

“You’re not going to help her? He is going to kill her!” I shouted at her.
“I handled 3 for her, she can handle her one. It’s only fair. It isn’t my fault she can’t hold her own weight in battle. He is even the weakest of the 4,” she said and turned to leave. Shocked by everything that has happened, I watched her walk away. After a few steps she stopped and took a big audible sigh. She turned around and started walking towards Jewel. “Fine. Whatever,” she said under her breath as she passed by.

Jewel has suffered another blow. She was now laying helpless on the ground. Her sword had fallen a few feet away. Her opponent taunted her as she waited his final blow. He lifted his axe and brought it down upon her with all of his might. At the last moment, Becky blocked it. Becky swung her axe, shoving him back several feet.

“I reckon that was a mistake young lady,” said a man from the other side of the ally. I turned to see Mr. Seven as he tipped his hat.

Fear paralyzed Jewel as she stared at the man approaching us. Becky, however, was smiling, as if Christmas had come early. Becky swung her axe back on her shoulder and stepped towards him.

“Leave her to me Dominic. I can handle her,” the last of the four original attackers said.

“I think not, lad,” Dominic replied. “She is stronger than she looks.”

“She would have to be,” he said with a smile. “I’m stronger than you think. I’ll be able to take her no…” Becky had turned and delivered a forceful blow from above with her axe. The man tried to block it, but the force was two strong. The axe cut through his weapon and then him.

“Sorry,” Becky said turning back to Dominic. “He was getting annoying.”
Dominic laughed so hard he bent over and slapped his knee. “I missed you Rebecca. You should never have left. It was always more entertaining with you around. I’ll tell you what. This has nothin to do with you, or the boy. Y’all can leave. I just came after her,” he indicated to Jewel.

“You should take the boy and leave. I can deal with him,” Jewel said softly as she stepped closer.

“You might want to sit back down. Delusions are a sign of serious head trauma,” Becky said. It was hard to miss the heavy sarcasm in her voice.

“Y’all feel free to discuss it as long as you need,” Dominic called, also being sarcastic.

“Thank you!” Becky called in an uncharacteristically cheery tone and a smile.

“This isn’t your fight demon,” Jewel said in a stern, almost angry voice. “Save the boy. Save yourself!”

“No,” Becky said in a determined tone. Seeing the confused look on Jewel’s face she went on, “Evil is what evil does. It’s kind of like stupid in that regard, which you are obviously more familiar with. Don’t worry. I’m going to win. I promise,” Becky looked Jewel directly in the eye and with a kind smile said, “It was kind of you to offer. Thank you. Oh, if you interfere I’ll stab you through the chest.”

Becky approached Dominic so that they were only a few feet apart. Her axe was still on her shoulders. Dominic grabbed a huge claymore from his back that I hadn’t noticed before. The sword was as big as Becky’s axe, and it looked just as heavy.

“You have never beatin me before, lass. Don’t be throwin your life away for one ‘o them,” he said.

“I’ve been waiting for you, why would I leave now?” she replied.

“Is that right? Well then lets not disappoint,” he replied. He lifted is sword. The blade began to glow with a shimmering red light. It looked like the inside of the sword was burning with a red-hot flame. The glow from the sword reflected in his eyes, to make them appear to shimmer with a red light as well.

Becky held her axe at the ready and it too began to glow with the same eerie red light. “You should go now,” Jewel said now standing beside me. “This fight is going to get…destructive.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

“Then at least back up. They will need a lot more space,” she replied. They were already 50ft in front of me. How much more space do they need?

It was Domonic that attacked first. Becky barely managed to block it. Dominic attacked again before Becky could counter. It appeared as if Becky was now the amateur and Dominic was now the professional. Domonic pounded her with attack after attack as Becky was forced to give ground. The few times Becky could counter, Dominic blocked it easily.

It was Domonic that drew blood first. He dodged Becky’s last counter attack which left an opening. She tried to throw herself out of the way, but the huge sword’s reach was a bit too long. It cut her across her body.

Her shirt was torn open and blood dripped from her cut. She was drooping over breathing heavily.

“Still thinkin your gonna win las?” he said with a smirk.

Becky smiled. “I’m just a bit rusty. I’ve spent too long beating up on wimps like them,” she indicated towards the 3 corpses near their feet. “Don’t worry. I’m nearly warmed up.”

She lunged at him with impossible speed and strength. It caught him off guard, but he was able to block it. She attacked again. He blocked it and countered, but he over extended himself. She was able to block and swing her axe around her body with a speed that surprised him. He jumped out of the way, but the tip of the axe sliced into his upper arm near his shoulder.

He laughed. “Much improved lass. This might just provide a bit of entertainment after all,” he said.

They went at it again. With every attack Becky seemed to be getting better and better. Finally she spotted an opening. She swung her axe around, but he was too quick. He stabbed her through the gut. He drew close to her as his sword run her through to the hilt. Inches from her face, he said, “I told you lass. You could never defeat me.” With all of his might he threw her through the brick wall of the building opposite the bar.

She was still alive. She managed to lift herself a few feet off the ground, not quite kneeling. Her axe lay a couple of feet from her. The eerie glow it was emitting through the entire battle hat ceased. Her wound from her stomach oozed a dark red blood, which mingled with the blood still coming from the cut across her body, and began to spread across the floor. She coughed and vomited more blood.

Dominic stood over her just on the other side of the wall. His sword was resting on his shoulders. “There is one thing I want to know before I finish this. Why were you waiting for me? Why did you want to kill me?”

Becky managed to get to her feet and grab her axe, although she could not find the strength to lift it off the ground. “Well 2 reasons really. First, it isn’t you per say that I’m really after. It’s the people Lucy will send once I defeat you,” she said.

Domonic laugh hysterically. “You hadn’t come close to defeating me, and you’re aft’r those that are far beyond me? I reckon the other reason’s got to be a doozie.”

“I just don’t like your accent and clothes. It’s seriously pretentious. You out date that culture by what? At least a couple of millennia?”

Domonic laughed even harder, and didn’t stop for at least a half a minute. “You certainly have been entertaining despite the fight you put up. But I supp’se its time to finish ya.”

Becky lifted her axe to the ready position, and with a determined look stared down her opponent. Her axe began to glow again, this time more brightly than before. “Oh, I’m not finished yet,” she said.

She lunged at him through the brick wall, forcing him back a few feet. Her second attack was blocked, but the twisted her axe and managed to use it to through his sword to the side, leaving an opening. He tried to dodge the blow, but she was too quick. The forceful blow sliced through his body from his shoulder to his side. She attacked again, but he was able to recover enough to block it and counter.

“Ha!” he said with a smile. “You certainly a spirited lass. Don’t be getting cocky. I’m just startin to have some fun!” He attacked again undaunted by his injury. She blocked it and countered. They went at it again, attack after attack. It seems she did get a bit too cocky. Domonic was able to cut across her body again. The cut was much more shallow than the last, but the shock from the injury allowed him to run her through for a second time.

She fell to her knees as blood ran from her new injury soaking the ground. Not wanting to loose the advantage, Domonic swung his sword for the killing blow, but it was blocked by Jewel’s sword. It too was glowing in the same eerie way as the other weapons, but white instead of red.

“It was a mistake interferin girlie. It makes no difference to me how I finish y’all off in,” Dominic said. Before Jewel could reply, Becky stabbed her through the chest. She fell to her knees in shock.

“Why?” she uttered in shock.

“I told you not to interfere,” Becky said.

Domonic laughed heartily. “I like your style Rebecca. I always have,” he said. “Don’t be to harsh on her,” he said to Jewel. “She saved your life. At least for the time being that is.”

The two opponents again stared down each other. Becky looked to be in bad shape. Blood was now dripping at an astonishing rate from her many wounds. She was breathing heavily. Her face however betrayed her condition. She believed fully she could still win.

Becky leapt over Jewel to delivery a hard attack that backed Domonic up a couple of steps. The advantage she gained vanished instantly, as Domonic delivered blow after blow. Becky was noticeably slower than before and was getting slower with every blow. Encouraged by this turn of events, Domonic’s blows came harder and faster.

It was Domonic’s turn to be too cocky. He swung his massive sword at her, but the managed to dodge and shove the pointed end of her handle through his chest. He stepped back and tried to recover, but it was too late. Becky’s axe began to glow fiercely, much brighter than before. It lit up the entire ally way. She brought it down across his body. It cut deep. I was surprised it didn’t cut him in half.

He backed up several steps and fell to his knees. Blood sprayed from his wound. He smiled. “It seems I was the one that was too cocky,” he said. “Tell me where did this new power of yours come from? You were never this strong.”

“There was once a man kind enough to hold my hand. My power? It came from his smile,” she said.

Domonic rose to his feet and lunged at her with one smooth motion. Becky was just able to block his blow. “That is the stupidest saying I’ve ever heard in my life,” he said without a hint of his former accent.

She smiled. “He thought so too,” she said and shoved him back. He threw himself at her again, but she dodged. He was too week to stop his momentum and it carried him past her. She buried her axe tip first into his back, so that the tip and some of the circular blade shown through on the other side. He fell to the ground face first, unconscious.

Becky collapsed to her knees and let her axe fall to the ground beside her. Jewel rushed to her side, and I followed. It appeared as though her wounds were nearly healed, even the one Becky had given her earlier.

“How do you feel?” Jewel asked as she got to Becky’s side.

“Peachy,” Becky said with a smile. The smile turned to a frown as she said, “except for the numerous and gapping chest wounds,” in a sarcastic tone.

A sound from the other end of the ally way distracted us. Several people had entered from the street and the leader was clapping.

“That was very impressive, but it appears it isn’t going to be enough to survive this night,” he said. Jewel immediately faced the new group and held her sword at the ready.

The man was tall and thin. He had blonde hair that hung to his shoulders. He had a short beard, as if he hadn’t had time to shave for a couple of days. He wore a blue sports jacket over a nice t-shirt and slacks. You could tell he took pride in how he dressed and looked. “It seems you trained your pets quite well,” he continued.

“I’m too tired for this witty banter, or just banter, since it isn’t at all witty. But feel free to carry on without me,” Becky said.

“Fine, lets cut to the chase then,” he said and attacked Jewel with a large metal mace he seemed to pull from nowhere. The mace had a large spiked head at the end. Jewel managed to block the first blow. She counter attacked, but over extended her self. The man turned and delivered a heavy blow to her body. Jewel flew several feet and hit the brick wall hard. Only her lack of mass and good workmanship of the wall kept her going right through it. She bounced several feet off the wall and fell before the new enemy.

He swung his mace to deliver the killing blow before she could recover, but it was blocked by Becky’s axe. Jewel managed to get to her knees. Her shirt was soaked in her blood from the mace’s spikes penetrating her abdomen, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

“You are one of us Rebecca. Nothing you do or is done to you can ever change that, save for your death. Lets not make that tonight,” he said.

“Like I said, I’m too tired for this witty banter, but if you want to postpone, we can all meet back here tomorrow,” she said.

“It is a shame,” he said and gripped his mace a little tighter. As he did it began to burn red hot and give off an eerie glow just like Domonic’s sword and Becky’s axe. In response, Becky’s axe began to glow once more.

The man attacked. Becky managed to block it, but another attack came, then another, and another. Blood still dripped from her wounds as she blocked each attack. She no longer had the speed or the strength to counter attack. It was only a matter of time before she no longer had the strength to even block the attacks.

The man began to laugh. “Have you gotten weaker or has that itty bitty sucking chest wound slowed you down?” he taunted. Becky gathered her last remaining strength and attacked. He was able to block it and countered. She was barely able to get her axe around in time to block it. She then countered and over extended her self. He easily blocked her attack and delivered a devastating blow that knocked her to the ground. He immediately stepped on her arm and kicked her axe several feet away from her.

“Sorry dear. You were never going to survive this night. Lucy sent all of us to kill you. Running into her,” he indicated towards Jewel, “was just icing on the cake. And him,” he indicated towards me, “Well what does he matter really?” He lifted is mace to deliver the killing blow, but then a shot of white light sped through the ally and through his chest.

Blood gushed from the wound as he lowered his mace. A shocked look showed on his face as he searched for the source of the attack. I turned searching for it as well. Stacy stood holding a bow and cocking another arrow at the far end of the ally. Then she suddenly appeared next to me, still with the bow and arrow aimed at the man standing over Becky.

The arrow was glowing white. It looked like the metal was burning white hot and had turned liquid, but still held it shape. It shimmered as if the metal had trouble containing the fire. It gave off an eerie glow that caused strange shadows to be cast throughout the ally. It was exactly the same as the effect as Becky’s axe, and the other weapons, except it was white instead of red.

The arrow began to glow brighter and brighter, until finally Stacy released it. I felt a rush of air and a strong pressure against my abdomen that pushed all the air out of my lungs. I looked up to find my self slung over Stacy’s shoulder. We were most of the way down the ally. I finally understood. Jewel and Stacy were not teleporting before. They were moving incredibly fast – too fast to see.

The man had blocked the arrow with his mace. He and the other men, that had until now been content to stand and watch, were giving chase. They were impossibly fast. They had already covered most of the ground to us.

Then there was another rush of air as I suddenly found us around the corner and several yards down the street. After a moment, Stacy again teleported us (for lack of a better term) down the street further. Jewel carried Becky and was keeping up with us as well. Stacy and Jewel teleported several more times. There was a second or so delay between each one.

The men gave a valiant effort to keep up. If Stacy’s arrow hadn’t distracted them initially, they might have been able to. Stacy and Jewel maneuvered around corners, down ally ways, across streets, and through crowds. Each twist and turn caused a moment delay, as the men had to search for them. Eventually they were completely out of site.

Stacy and Jewel continued to run for what had to be an hour carrying Becky and me. Finally, they came to a stop. They were both breathing hard, but not as hard as me. Each “teleport” caused all wind to be knocked out of my lungs, which left be gasping for air for the last hour or so.

“Go home,” Stacy said at last. She was stern and had a “you’re grounded” look on her face. “You will be safe. They are after us, not you.”

“I can’t,” I gasped. “I can’t just ignore everything that has happened. Trust me. I’ve tried. I need answers. I won’t go back without them.”

“Answers won’t do you any good if we are all dead. Go home. I’ll contact you within the week somehow. I promise,” she said. “Please. It will be easier for us to get away if you’re not with us.”

“No!”

She put her hands on my face. “You have to trust me,” she said. “I will give you the answers you’re looking for. I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner, but you have to leave now. It’s too dangerous for all of us while you are here.”

“Just tell me one thing. Are you really my mother?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. I stared at her as I tried to let it all sink in. Not just the fact that my dead mother is alive and standing before me as a young woman, but everything that has happened tonight and the last few months. Finally, I gave up, if only for the night.

“Becky. Will she be alright?” I asked.

Jewel still held her across her shoulder. Blood now covered most of Jewel’s shirt, with her own mingling with Becky’s. “Yes. They recover faster then you would think,” she said. “She will be good as new in a couple of days. That is assuming we survive.”

“How are you? Are you sure we shouldn’t get you two to a hospital?” I said, although I suspected what the answer would be.

“I’m fine. I’m nearly healed already. A hospital would be a bad idea anyways,” she said.

“Fine. Go, but remember your promise. I get my answers in a week. If you want to be early, I won’t complain.” I said. Stacy smiled at me and then took Becky from Jewel. They both vanished and appeared instantly several yards down the street. They vanished again, and didn’t appear again with in view. Presumably they had gone around a corner.

I hailed a cab and headed back to my hotel.

Writing Challenge: Part VIII

I was waiting at the café for Rebecca to arrive. She was quite late, which is unusual for her, and I was getting quite annoyed. I sipped on my coffee at my outside table and watched people walk down the street, mostly fellow college students. Poor suckers. They still had to worry about homework and finals.

A woman I had never seen before sat down in front of me before I had even realized she was there. She was oriental, Japanese probably. She was young, a little younger than I was. She was fairly short. Maybe 5 foot, but it was hard to tell with her sitting down. She had long dark hair that went past her shoulders, and brown eyes. She had a thin slender body. She was very beautiful.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late,” in a high pitched happy tone and a big smile. Puzzled I waited for her to introduce herself and explain why she was here, but she began signaling the waitress. Obviously she wasn’t going to offer any explanation.

“Who are you?”

Shocked by my question she took a moment to reply, “Oh, you don’t know me.” Another moment passed as she straightened her napkins and silver ware.

“Hence the inquiry of who you are,” I said speaking clearly.

“Oh right. I’m…let’s say Jewel,” she said and smiled. At first I thought she was insane, but the more I studied her the more I convinced myself I was wrong. Her eyes portrayed wisdom, and her demeanor exuded confidence.

Before either of us could speak the waitress appeared asking for an order. Jewel ordered a black tea extra sweet. She made eye contact with the waitress, gave her a pleasant smile, and thanked her. The waitress smiled back, as if that one moment turned her worst day of her life into her best.

“I’m a friend of, um. What did she call her self? Rebecca! I’m afraid she can’t make it today, or any day for the foreseeable future.” She spoke with a look of sympathy on her face. “Before you ask, explanations are in this letter.” She sat a letter in a sealed envelop on the table, but kept it on her side of the table with her hand over it.

“Why?” It was all I could think or say as my heart sank. “Is she ok?”

“She will be fine,” Jewel said in a firmly tone. “She is just gone. It is for the best, I think. Our life is complicated, and not for…most people.”

“Tell me what is going on. I might be able to help. I want to help,” I pleaded. My mind raced with all the things that could possibly be going on. Drugs maybe? Jewel didn’t seem the type, and Rebecca definitely wasn’t. What then?

“It is Rebecca’s right to tell you or not tell you what she deems appropriate. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to help,” she said as the waitress delivered her tea.

“I need to know what is going on,” I said, but she ignored me.

I looked at the letter. The answers must be in there. She moved her hand to lift the tea for a sip. My eyes followed her hands all the way to her mouth. She had no rings on. In fact, she had no jewelry on at all. She didn’t even have her ears pierced, which I thought ironic considering the name she had chosen for herself.

I quickly reached for the letter while her hands were occupied with her tea. Her hand appeared over the leader again, or so it seemed to me. She moved amazingly fast.

“Not so fast. I just got my tea. I’m sure you can wait until I’m done. Besides I would hate to ruin the opportunity to get to know you better,” she said smiling again. Annoyed I wanted to demand she give me Rebecca’s letter, but that would have gotten me nowhere.

“Why the letter? Why couldn’t she explain it to me in person? Is it really that bad?” I asked.

“Honestly, yes, but that isn’t the reason why she isn’t here. She is more courageous then you give her credit for. Besides if that were it, I would rip up the letter and kick her ass all the way here. She couldn’t be here.”

“Please, tell me about yourself,” she continued. “You grew up in foster care yes? How did that go for you? I hear they are not all that bad these days, well better then they use to be in my time anyways.”

She continued her inquisition into my life, with a pleasant voice and a smile. I answered robotically and with terseness. My thoughts were on Rebecca. What kind of trouble was she in? Why doesn’t she trust me to help her? It was overwhelming. If only this women would let me read the letter.

Her questioning continued on for 30 minutes as she slowly sipped her tea down to nothing. After asking for the letter for about the 100th time, she finally relented and handed it over saying, “It was pleasant having tea with you. I hope we will have a chance to do it again sometime.”

I hesitated opening it. I just held it in my hands staring at my name with Rebecca’s writing. Now that I held the answer in my hand, do I really want to know? There was something else in the envelope. It was some small object.

I looked up, but Jewel had disappeared. There was no sign of her anywhere.
I took a deep breath, summoned the courage from somewhere inside me, and opened the letter. I ignored the small object, whatever it was, and unfolded the letter and read:

I love you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this in person. It seems I have so little time nowadays, which is ironic. I hope you will forgive me.

I’m afraid I have been harming you for my own benefit. It was wonderful getting to know the man you have become, even if it was under false pretenses. I’m sorry for the emotional distress it has caused. That was never my intention.

I also fear I have placed your life in grave danger. Again I was being selfish, and again, I am sorry.

I’m afraid I can’t and may not ever be able to offer you a full explanation. However, I realize now it was wrong for me to hide everything from you. When next we meet, we will have a long talk, although it may not be for years. Please stay safe and wait for me. Above all else, find happiness. I promise I will find you again when I am able. Until then, please keep my most cherished possession.

I love you.

I opened the envelope to retrieve the object inside. It was a ring, my mother’s ring.

Writing Challenge: Part VII

I invited Rebecca to hang out with my friends and me at a local bar last night. It was karaoke night, which is always a good time. Most of the night went really well. She got along famously with all of my friends. I’ve never seen anyone so at ease with a complete group of strangers.

There was one interesting thing to note for the beginning of the night. First I should explain my friend Jack is an idiot sober, and twice that drunk. Anyways, when we first arrived we were watching the DJ get set up, and Jack said something like “You do have great breasts,” to Rebecca. (I had mentioned her comment about me staring at her hands instead of her breasts.)

“Damn straight I have nice breasts,” she replied without pause. The entire table erupted with laughter.

I leaned into her ear and whispered, “You should prepare yourself for when he gets drunk. That is only the beginning of the wonder that is Jack.” She had an evil grin on her face as if she relished the challenge.

The rest of the night was really fun. We all got up and sang at least one song. We even sang Bohemian Rhapsody as a team. Rebecca had a very beautiful voice. The rest of us were awful as usual, but the more we drank, the less it mattered.

Finally the last call came. Jack was the last person to sing. Fortunately the bar was nearly empty. Only Rebecca and I remained of our group (other than Jack). He sang something from Hannah Montana and somehow made it sound worse. By this time, he was so drunk; I was surprised he could stand, much less sing.

When we left Rebecca insisted on walking home instead of taking my car. I tried to tell her I didn’t drink that much, but she would have none of it. As soon as we walked out the door Jack had to run around the corner to puke. Rebecca and I waited near the door for him.

“Your doing it again,” she said after two woman walked by us heading for their car.

“What?” I said surprised. I hadn’t the faintest idea what she was talking about.

“You were staring at their hands as they walked by,” talking about the 2 women that just walked by. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to push for an answer this time,” she said. “The suspense is killing me.” She gave me a sympathetic smile to encourage me.

I didn’t want to talk about it, but at the same time I also wanted her to know. I think God made a mistake when he refused to give us telepathy. I took a breath and summoned the courage to speak.

“I told you my father died in a boating accident when I was 5. Well, I was on that boat with my mother at the time. We were going under a bridge down the Snake River when a speedboat passed to close and forced us into a pillar. It caused the boat to turn over. The back currents near the pillar kept me under the water. I couldn’t swim very well at the time,” I explained. Rebecca cut me off.

“I don’t understand what this has to do with hands. Oh…the water was dirty. When your mother reached for you, you could only see her hand,” she said, and was silent again.

I decided that was explanation enough, but wanted to add something, “The sun penetrated the water just enough to cause her engagement ring to sparkle. It was the most beautiful site I have seen in my life.” I shook my head to banish the memory from my mind.

“Anyways, after that my mother always kept me at her side. She was always holding my hand. The only clear memory I have of her was her hands with her ring on her finger.”

“She loved you very much,” Rebecca said.

Jack appeared again before I had a chance to respond. Thankful for small miracles, I simply said, “Lets go.”

The trip home was pretty silent, other then Jack chatting away the entire time (when he wasn’t vomiting), but both Rebecca and I ignored him completely. Jack lived in the same apartment complex as Rebecca, so we went there first. Once we tucked in Jack for the night and made sure he would be ok we headed towards Rebecca’s apartment.

As we were walking out of the door she turned to me with a smile and asked “Is Jack always like this?” I honestly wasn’t paying attention to her. Maybe it was too much alcohol, or the way she was smiling at me, or the way the moon lit up her hair (ok, it was mostly the alcohol), but I really wanted to kiss her. I leaned towards her, but she took a step back.

My heart sank. I couldn’t hide the disappointment and embarrassment on my face. I wanted to crawl under a rock and sleep for a millennia. I raced past her and walked away as fast as I could. I just wanted out of there.

“I told you I couldn’t have that type of relationship with you,” she said, but I wasn’t listening. I was intent on getting out of there as fast as I could. “Please wait!” she called after me. I ignored her, and kept walking.

Suddenly she appeared out of nowhere directly in front of me. I must have been quite drunk. “I’m sorry. It was never my intention for it to come to this, but I can’t get involved with you in that way,” she said.

“Yea, well I can’t not feel the way I feel!” I replied trying to keep from shouting at her.

“You’re right. This is my fault. I should have known it wouldn’t work. I should have left the moment I saw you in that bar,” she said almost to herself.

“Good evening,” a man said appearing out of nowhere. He was an older gentleman. He wore a light brown leather jacket, a plaid shirt, blue jeans, a cowboy hat, and boots. His pants were tucked into his boots. He had a stern, determined face. He was chewing on a toothpick as he spoke. He looked so much like a character out of a John Wayne western; I swore I could see a revolver at his side.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I reckon you could use a bit of sav’n, if you know what I mean. That conversation looked painful,” he said to me.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m a friend of your lady friend here. I know it’s late, and I don’t mean to disturb ya. I just got into town, and I said to myself, ‘It would be rude not to stop by and say hi.’ I didn’t realize she would have company though, or I would have waited till tomorrow.”

“What is your name?” I asked. Now that I have one of Rebecca’s mysterious visitors here with me, I wasn’t about to go home empty handed.

“Well, you can refer to me as Mr. 7. Me and your lady friend, we go way back.” He turned to Rebecca and asked, “What is your name again?” This forced a smile out of her as she gave him her name.

I leaned into Rebecca’s ear and asked “Mr. 7?” To which she replied, “It’s just a nickname. It isn’t important.” Her eyes, however, never left his the entire time. That alone was enough to make me nervous.

“Well I can see you’re indisposed at the moment. I’ll have to meet up with ya some other time, but it will have to be real soon. I have messages from back home to deliver to ya,” he said. He tipped is hat to her and walked down the street alone. Rebecca’s eyes didn’t leave him until he was completely out of site.

“Who was he?” I asked once he was gone.

“Nobody important,” she said. For someone so mysterious, she was certainly a really bad liar. “Let me walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that. You’re already home, and he is gone anyways. I’ll be fine,” I said. I honestly didn’t want to spend any more time with her.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” she said. She looked determined to win this fight, so I relented. The trip home was uneventful. Neither of us talked. For that, I was thankful. When we arrived she reminded me to lock my door, and left quickly.

The next day I almost broke the lunch plans we had made previously for Tuesday, but in the end I decided I needed answers. I was going to force her to give them to me one way or another.

Writing Challenge: Part VI

This is just a quick update. Rebecca finally called. She seems all right. She said she and her friend gave the men everything they deserved and they were satisfied with it. Whatever that means. Hopefully she doesn’t mean sex (it certainly didn’t sound like it).

Writing Challenge: Part V

Rebecca finally called yesterday. We made plans for dinner that night. She even told me where she lived, so that I could pick her up, just like a real date (although she insisted it wasn’t one. It was a non-date as she called it).

It was a nice night and she wanted to try a new restaurant within walking distance. I contemplated bringing her flowers, but decided against it. I didn’t want to push my luck. Still I didn’t want to go empty handed, so I brought her a packet of green tea. It was the only thing I really knew about her.

I think she liked it. She certainly seemed pleasantly surprised. She laughed of course. I knew she would. Still, it wasn’t the worst start of the night. Better than the ending at any rate, but I’m getting ahead of myself again.

We had a pleasant conversation as we walked to the restaurant. We both avoided the touchy subjects from last time. It was an unspoken agreement that I wouldn’t mention her husband, and she wouldn’t mention my parents. We simply talked about why she wanted to become a psychologist and why I chose mechanical engineering as a major.

Through most of the dinner conversation, we talked a little about our likes and dislikes on a range of topics. She apparently likes the West Wing, along with other similar dramas. She also likes baseball almost as much as I do, she is even a fan of the Twins.

Unfortunately the conversation turned to politics. They say you should never discuss politics with anyone you want to stay friends with. I can attest to this. She is very much a bleeding heart liberal, while I’m more of a libertarian. That conversation got very heated, and we had both been drinking which didn’t help matters.

Thankfully she had her wits about her and ended the conversation before it got physical (and not in a good way). Unfortunately she did so by steering the conversation towards another touchy subject with me: “Most men stare at my breast when they talk to me. You, however, keep staring at my hands. In fact, you look at the hands of every woman you meet. What’s up with that? Are my breasts not good enough?”

“Sorry. I guess I like hands. Is it really that abnormal?” I said hoping she wouldn’t push the subject too much.

“Yes, actually. In fact, you’re the first person to have a hand fetish. I’ve heard of feet fetishes, but not hands,” she said. I should have known she would have no sympathy.

“Well I do like to be unique date. I guess I’m doing pretty good in that regard.”

“First it isn’t a date. Second, that isn’t an answer, but I won’t push it this time,” she said. Would the appropriate thing to do after that be to stare at her breast? I didn’t of course, but only because her smile captivated me for some reason.

Dinner ended shortly after, and we began our walk home. We had a few more drinks than we should have (or at least I did) so walking was more adventurous then normal. We decided to take a short cut through peoples yards. It was probably a mistake to do so, as we were quite loud. I’m sure we were disturbing people. I even tripped and fell.

She was a few feet in front of me when we were tramping through the yard of the apartments across the street when she froze staring at her apartment. I caught up to her to see what had her spooked.

Two men were waiting near her apartment door. They were wearing suites. I couldn’t tell from this distance in the dark, but I would imagine they were cheap, cheesy suites. One was leaning against a car smoking a cigarette. He had a blue suit with a matching hat lazy tilted down his face. The other was staring down the street looking for something.

They were both young looking (maybe my age) and fairly well built. The one against the car was white, but with a fairly dark complexion. Italian maybe? The one looking down the street was black and bald. Neither looked like good news.

“Maybe we should avoid my apartment for a while,” Rebecca said.

“What do they want with you? You can’t hide from them forever. Tell me what is going on. Maybe I can help,” I offered.

She chuckled under her breath at the offer. It seems she thought I was a joke compared to them.

“I’m sorry to get you mixed up with this, but I don’t need your help. You must stay out of it. You have to promise me you will stay out of it,” she said. The look of concern was genuine.

“Look if you’re in that much trouble, then we should go to the police. I can go with you,” I said. We moved behind the apartments we came from to get out of the line of site of the men across the street.

“That would not be a good idea. I swear to you I can handle this. I’m stronger and more capable then you think, and I a friend that can help. You have to trust me. Go home. I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise,” she said.

“Well that isn’t a good idea,” I said.

“Why not?”

“For one, that is my car he is leaning against,” I said.

“Oh right. I have a cell phone. We can call you a cab. In fact we can share a cab. I should go to my friend’s house. She will need to know about those two,” she said and started to dial on her phone before I could object.

She made us walk down the street to meet the cab, to be sure we wouldn’t be seen or drive past the two men. We both got in. I tried to ask questions about who those men were, but all I got out of her was they were dangerous, I should trust her, and that she and her friend were capable of handling them on their own. I eventually stopped trying.

I’m not sure how I wanted this non-date to end, but certainly not like that. I guess it could have been far worse.

By the way, she still hasn’t called me, but it is still pretty early in the morning. I hope she is all right.

Writing Challenge: Part IV

I called Rebecca this morning. It was a weird conversation. She said she didn’t have time to talk, and she would call back. There were people yelling in the background. I thought I heard another woman call her Stacy. She must have been talking to someone else though. For those of you who don’t know, Stacy was my mother’s name.

Anyways, I hope she calls back soon. *crosses fingers*

Writing Challenge: Part III

I arrived first. I was eager to find out more about Rebecca, and I had nothing else to do anyway. That is the major benefit of graduation, no more homework or studying.

She arrived at exactly 11, almost to the second. “Hello,” I greeted her. “I’m really glad you came.”

“As I recall, you didn’t leave me a choice,” she said with a smile.

“Yes, well, I do have a way with the ladies,” I replied, and she chuckled. The waitress came for our drink orders before we had time to continue the conversation. I really had no idea what to say anyways. I had my usual morning drink, coffee with extra cream. She ordered green tea, extra sweet.

“So you just graduated. What was your major? Did you do well?” she asked after the waiter left.

“Mechanical engineering, and they are giving me the diploma, or so they say. I must have done better then I thought.” I replied with a smile. “You’re entering a Ph. D. program here? What for?” I asked.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asked.

“What?” I hadn’t realized it, but I was studying her, looking for any differences between her and my mother. After a moment of introspection, I replied, “You look like someone I know.”

“Is it Jennifer Aniston? ‘Cause she’s gorgeous,” she said with a smile.

“Jennifer Aniston has nothing on you. No, you just sometimes remind me a little of my mother. I know. It isn’t what woman like to hear on a first date.” I said gently, not knowing how she would react.

The waitress interrupted the conversation to deliver our drinks. “Psychology,” Rebecca replied after the drinks were sat down, “And it’s a conversation not a date.”

“What can I get for you?” the waitress said before the conversation could continue.

“I’ll have the scrambled eggs platter with bacon,” I said, and handed in my menu. “Thank you”

“I’ll have the vegetarian omelet,” Rebecca ordered with a smile while making eye contact.

“You were talking about your mother. What was she like? I mean is she still alive?” Rebecca asked once the waitress left. She lifted her cup of tea to her lips while waiting for an answer.

“No, she died when I was young. She was beautiful, kind, and caring,” I said. After a pause, I continued, “I loved her very much.”

“What about your father? What was he like?” she asked.

“He died a few years before my mother in a boating accident. I don’t remember him as much, but I do remember him being strong and kind and caring,” I replied.

After a moment, she lifted her hands slowly. My eyes naturally followed the movement of her hands as she swayed them back and forth. It took me a moment to realize what she was doing, and what I was doing.

“So why the hand fetish?” she asked.

“What?”

“You were staring at my hands,” she replied.

“Oh, sorry. Um…I’m not sure how to explain this. You see the clearest memories I have of my mother are her hands. Specifically a ring she always wore. I think it was her engagement ring. Talking about her must have made me remember it.”

She smiled sympathetically. “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk about her anymore.”

“You use to wear a ring. I can see the tan line. What happened to it? Did you lose it?”

“No. I used to be married. I’m not anymore. It is one of, but not the top reason this ‘conversation’ is a really bad idea.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said as the waitress delivered our food. The conversation died as we both began to eat. It seems neither of us had eaten yet today.

“So what happened?” I asked after a few bites. “Why are you not married anymore, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I do…mind. Can we talk about something else?” she replied. “You said your parents both died when you were a kid. Did you go to foster care? What was that like?”

“Yes. I was lucky. I found a great family almost immediately. They had 2 older kids and 3 other foster kids. They were great to all of us. My eldest foster sibling is graduating from Princeton this year. The other 2 are both attending college as a freshman and junior. Our foster parents paid for all of it.”

“It sounds like you were pretty well off, all things considered,” she said. “I’m really glad to hear that. After your childhood, you deserve it.”

“Thanks. What about your parents? Are you guys close?” I asked.

“My father died a while back. My mother lives in Montana. Unfortunately I don’t get to see her as often as I would like,” she said after taking her last bite.

“That’s too bad. You will have time to visit before you start school right? I have a grandmother in Montana. Maybe we could go up there together and surprise both of them sometime.”

“I’m not sure about that,” she said. “Like I said before, my life is complicated right now. I’m not entirely positive I’ll be able to attend school.”

“Oh well, it was just a thought,” I replied in a defeated tone.

“Listen it was great talking to you, but I really must be going. I’m meeting a friend this afternoon,” she said while getting up.

“Might I have your phone number? I would really like to get together another time,” I asked. My heart was pounding as I waited her answer.

“Well…Ok, but I want to make it clear. I’m not interested in a relationship. As long as you agree to that, then I would like very much to get together and talk once in a while.”

I complied as she wrote down her number on a napkin. She gave me a pleasant smile before she turned and left.

Writing Challenge: Part II

Thanks to James I finally met her. I tried to sneak a peak at her ring finger to see if she wore my mother’s ring, but I never got a good look. I’m getting ahead of my story though.

James told me he met someone that looked a bit like my mother, and that she had an interview for some Ph. D program at our university (He works at the admin office, for those of you who don’t know him). The interview was scheduled for yesterday (May 20th). So I decided to wait for her outside. I know how it sounds. The only thing I have to say for myself is that my stalker permit should be arriving this weekend.

I finally got a good look at her from across the campus. She did look a lot like the photos I have of my mother. She had the same slim figure, without being skinny. She had short light brown hair, and hazel eyes. She was however taller then I remember my mother being. Her long legs added to her height. She had beautiful hands, with slim long fingers. I thought she had a ring on, but I couldn’t tell from this distance.

I approached her slowly. She was walking my way, so it didn’t take long to catch up to her. When she saw me she stopped and smiled. I figured that was a good sign, and began to relax a little. I hadn’t realized how nervous I was.

“Hi, do you remember me from the other night?” I asked.

“Of course. You were the nice man that tried to help me out,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you…again.”

“How did it turn out the other night? Did he give you much trouble?”

“No, not at all. He was…my cousin. He wanted something from me. Once I gave it to him he left. I’m sure he won’t be anymore trouble,” she replied. “How did you find me?”

“I have a friend that works in the admin office. He told me about your interview. How did it go by the way? Good I hope.” I smiled. She just had that effect on my.

“Yes, I think so. I guess we will see,” she said while lifting up her crossed fingers. “I have got to go, but it was really nice talking to you again.”

“How about we get together later today. I would really like to continue this conversation.” My heart was pounding waiting for her reply.

“I don’t think that is a very good idea,” she said obviously taken back. “My life is…well crazy right now. It isn’t a good time for me to start a relationship.”

“Who said anything about a relationship?” I said quickly before she could think about it. “I only mentioned a conversation.” She opened her mouth to speak again, but I cut her off. “I won’t take no for an answer. I found you once, and I’ll find you again. The way I see it you can either have a new friend or a stalker. The choice is yours.”

“That is the most interesting pickup line I’ve heard yet. Ok, but I really can’t tonight. Buy me brunch tomorrow at the café down the street at 11. See you then,” she said as she began to walk away.

“What is your name?” I shouted after her.

“Rebecca,” she said after a pause.

“My name’s…” I began to say but she cut me off.

“I know who you are. You’re not the only stalker in this friendship.”

So I won…the first date at any rate.

Writing Challenge: Post I

The last time I saw my mother was 15 years ago. It was the last time anyone had seen her, since that was the day she died. Yet there she was standing before me. Of course, I could have been mistaken. I had been drinking quite a bit and didn’t have a clear view.

I focused my eyes and conjured up an image of her. The woman I was looking at had the same shape and hair as my mother. Even at a bad angle I could tell she was very beautiful, just like my mother. The only real difference was the fact that mom would be at least 40 years old now, and this woman couldn’t be much older than me.

She was laughing at something some guy said. Even after 15 years, I still remember her laugh. My mother was the only woman I have known with that carefree infectious laugh that was ringing through me ears now. I was sure. This woman was my mother.

It’s impossible. I had to have been much drunker than I thought. Still, I had to talk to her. I had to be sure.

I started towards her trying to think of something to say. I decided to ask if we knew each other. I know. It’s a terrible pickup line, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Did I mention how drunk I was?

I approached her and waited until she noticed me. She had a weird surprised look on her face, as if she didn’t know what to say. So I made the opening move, “Hi,” I shouted trying to make myself heard over the loud music and noisy chatter in the smoke filled bar.

She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again, obviously not knowing what to say. I know how she felt. Usually I’m the one dumbfounded when meeting new people. When she began to speak again, something at the entrance grabbed her attention. I turned around to see what it was. There were several people on the dance floor, some guy looking around (obviously for his friends), others sitting around the tables chatting. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except for 2 girls dancing a little too close together, but that didn’t seem a likely candidate for her attention. Puzzled I asked, “See someone you know?”

“No,” she replied immediately pulling her gaze to me briefly then again to the entrance. “It’s nobody…I mean nothing. I have to go. It was nice meeting you.” With that she rushed towards the back of the bar.

“But we haven’t actually met,” I mumbled to myself, and then rushed after her. I know it wasn’t exactly an appropriate thing to do. Some drunk guy chasing after a girl in a bar, but I had to know who she was.

I was just a couple of steps behind her as she stepped out the back door, but when I reached it, she was several paces in front of me. She stood frozen staring down a man at the end of the ally. The man was dressed in a black leather jacket with a dirty white T-shirt, and dark blue jeans. I couldn’t really make his face out in the dark ally, but I could have sworn he was smiling at her.

“Hey, do you need help? Is he causing you trouble?” The words came out before I had time to consider what I might get myself involved in.

“It is kind of you to ask, but the thing is, I didn’t. Ask that is. So, I would appreciate you going back inside.”

“Do you know him? Will you be alright?”

“Yes, and yes. Now go back inside and have fun with your friends. I need to go talk to him about this thing. Don’t worry, I’ll be alright.”

I relented. I probably shouldn’t have, but she seemed confident, and the guy was freaking me out. I figured I could talk to her when she came back in.

“Congratulations on your graduation,” she called to me just before the door closed. That was the moment I knew she wasn’t my mother. There was something about her smile. Besides my mother was much taller.

I watched the door like a hawk, but she never came back in. When I went out to find her, the ally was empty, except for a police officer checking something out around the corner.

So that is the exciting thing that happened to me at my college graduation party last night. To this mysterious young lady, if you’re out there and read this please leave a comment. I would really like to get together and talk. If anyone else out there knows who this woman might be, please do the same.