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A bright day. It's warm with a mild breeze.

My little brother walks beside me. He is nine; I am nine years his senior.

He chatters tirelessly. I smile and nod to acknowledge I'm listening; I'm only half-listening though. My thoughts flutter forward to what I'll be doing later-- where I'll go and who'll I'll see. The image of a smiling chestnut-haired girl lingers in my mind.

We come to a crosswalk.

"Hold my hand when we cross, kay?" I say to him. He says okay and continues chatting.

We stand at the corner for some time, waiting for our signal.

It never comes.

A sudden darkness, like a passing cloud or plane, eclipses everything. We look up. The sky is not blue, but red.

Profound silence replaces the former street sounds. People exit their cars to stare. An eerie stillness, then--an explosion of noise!

I feel myself flung into the air.

I crash onto the ground ten or fifteen feet away from where I was standing. The world vibrates around me. I become deaf in an instant. My thoughts turn into a mush. I feel encased in searing heat--dry, unbearable, toxic.

I reach for my little brothers hand. I fumble in my personal blindness until I touch someone's fingers. They're warm and dry. They're unattached from their owner.

I feel light-headed. I try moving more, but pain swarms my legs, neck, and chest. I feel stiff. I try one more time to sit up, but I can't. I'm weak and sleepy.

Unconsciousness finally swallows me.

The Cycle Begins

This is not a happy story, if you want to know the truth. This is not your typical hero tale where the villain is only evil and wins throughout most of the story, and therefore you think it's over for the hero when the two face-off at the climax when suddenly, though planned in the most dramatic way possible, the villain is vanquished forever, and the whole amiable village that took good care of the hero celebrates--even that one guy who is skeptical of the hero because he is secretly jealous; yeah, even that guy celebrates the villain being vanquished. Eventually, all the little town folk and the hero and the hero's companions learn that the greatest power of all is love--and love, dear reader, lies within all us. Lovely.

No, this is not one of those stories--that, if you continue reading, you'll be assured of. This is a much more sadder tale of loss, betrayal, anguish, antipathy, and defeat. There might be some scenes or instances of brief contentment; hell, at times there are even times when the level of anguish and pain is relaxed--just a little, mind you. These things I'll begrudgingly grant you. But, underneath each of these good fortunes lies another series of miserable events, greater dejection, and moments where you go 'Damn, that sucks'; and it's true: whatever just happened in that particular scene to make you say those words out loud, and possibly in front of your parents or teacher, does suck. Lots of things in this story suck. And whatever sparkle sparkle of hope you may see in the fogged and overcast night will quickly be extinguished with great animosity--always.

I am telling you this to serve as a warning. Reader, you should, right now, stop expecting a happy ending to this novel because, well, it just isn't going to happen. Got it? Just stop. Right now. There will be no happy ending. There. The longer you delude yourself into thinking there will be one the longer you'll be miserable. And just so you know, once you start to read this story, you won't be able to stop reading until it's done, at which point you'll feel terrible because of the unhappy ending. Do you see what you got into now? Just go.
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Has my warning not sent you away yet? Fine, I concede: you may continue, if you really want to do so.
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Still?

Okay, but I warned you: let's begin.

Across the backyard lawn at the small party

I looked over at you, and I don't know if you knew I was admiring you, or if you knew I was looking at you, right at you, instead of someone else behind you, but if when our eyes struck each other and I could see the beautiful amber of your eyes set in piercing white orbs, and you could see me, a stringy, not too handsome yet not too bad looking, smart, socially inept guy sitting in solitude with his laughing friends who, though not actively searching, sometimes notices someone who could one day be his greatest confidant and life partner, his future wife and other half, his lovely girlfriend, then fiance, then wife; the only other person with whom he could talk with, really talk with, talk with beyond anything he's ever experienced, which is something he knows he could only do with a wonderful girl who loved who he was and who would love him for what he would later become once he finished grad school and left for the peace corps and came back two years later with a completely different outlook on life; who could love him on trips around the world and around the country and around the state and around the city and around the house and around the backyard as he played a goofy life, taking it as serious as it needs to be--which is not very--and only becoming a little less goofy under certain circumstances, never once forgetting to appreciate the tangible colors of reality with a deep breath and a 'thank you' sailing through smiling lips, emanating from a solid pair of lungs that live to skip through life on happy beats of invigorating gratitude; if when our eyes struck each other and you saw me admiring you, it's because at that beat of a second my heart was pulled deeper into my chest and my whole body felt as if it had fallen a hundred feet in two seconds, and I suddenly become conscious of the small breath of air I barely managed to inhale, that I would like to talk to you to get to know you better; you seem like a very interesting, funny, smart, warm, passionate and compassionate human being. But if not, if it wasn't me you were looking at, or if it was me and you're not interested, or if you aren't an interesting, funny, smart, warm, passionate and compassionate human being, then I, an average guy with an extraordinary store of love to give but who is incapable of sharing it with anyone else but his life partner, won't bother you with another glance, although I think you're missing out, really; and even though you may not want to know what a kind, funny, smart, interesting, all-around wonderful individual I am, I want you to know that I saw you tonight under clouded Los Angeles stars and beneath wide, sky-scraping palms next to dozens of buzzed people and through the loud, ripping bass of a DJ; and even though I don't know if you know, it was you--only you--I was looking at.

The Twenty-Story Monster Part 1

I have to fight it. No one has told me this. I just know.

It's about twenty stories tall and ugly and smells like rotten milk. The world around me becomes still and silent. It exhales a deep and low moan. I cover my ears before my head explodes in the upsurge of noise.

It stops but my head keeps swirling. My ears are ringing like I'd just been knocked in the head.

It bellows a huge gust of wind. It's hot, cancerous breath coils around me like a tornado. I gag as I inhale large chunks of green poison up my inflamed nose and into my lungs.

I can't think anymore. It's too hot in here.

I force every part of my body to run. Nothing happens. I push and push against the fatigue in my head and the weariness in my legs. I'm losing consciousness.

I push one more time. My nerves and muscles almost split from the force. This time, I manage to push myself out of the rushing wind and take a huge gulp of clean air.

The monster is large but fast.

It reaches down and yanks me from my arm. I feel something tear and I scream with my entire body.

I faintly hear the sound of rushing wind as I'm pulled two hundred feet up in the air in the span of two seconds. I can't feel my head anymore. My thoughts turn into paste. I'm beyond confusion; there's no relief for this.

It's holding me in front of it's face. I can't keep my eyes open. The pain spewing through my body is too much.

Only now do I realize I'm violently shaking. I'm convulsing like a madman and I can't stop.

It laughs. Honest to God, it laughs at me.

I'm pathetic. I know why its laughing. I'm a pathetic maggot and I deserve to be laughed at.

I can't fight--I'm too weak. I've been struggling too long to fight anything. I'm tired. All I want is rest.

I know I'll finally get it in a few moments though. I'm grateful it'll be over soon.