Aethryl

Book post.

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:37:35 GMT

Prop 8: Rational Discussion

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 05:34:13 GMT

Some background:

I am a straight Catholic. I love my church.
I attend a Catholic discussion group. We discuss the liturgy of the hours (usually writings of Catholics from the early church) at a local bar and how it relates to our times.
I think proposition 8 is wrong.
I am ambivalent about (I would be very happy if the church changed, but it is still my chruch so I live with it and I do not impose it on anyone else/judge anyone by it) the churches teachings on homosexuality. Well, I guess to put if more simply, I am very, very glad I am not a theologian.

In response to prop 8 passing a friend of mine posted: http://fordarkness.livejournal.com/458365.html I, reacted a bit irrationally rather than respecting those that support prop 8. My rejection of it remains unchanged after thought but I don't view those who voted against it with nearly as much anger. I do still remain angered by the ad campaign mentioned.

Anyways onto the point of this. At this discussion group I mentioned prop 8 to see how other Catholics viewed the issue. Our discussion ended up being much more in depth though. It turns out one of the people there is working as a counselor. One of her clients is gay. She has been torn up because she is a Catholic (seems to be against gay marriage, but not very), but she also knows being un-supportive would be, well wrong, Because of this internal dilemma she had been looking for a place to talk about it, not feeling comfortable having that discussion in, well anywhere in Chicago. I have a lot of respect for her, going through this personal dilemma. The people in the group for prop 8, well basically they felt gay marriage would lead to state intrusion on a church issue and did not seem against defining a state marriage (same for everyone, gay or straight or w.e) as separate from church.

Anywho while that was interesting, the best part of the discussion came later. We had some interesting talk about the unity of the church and then one of our leaders, well he amazed me. It turns out his sister is gay. She, amazingly enough, has the courage to attend church regardless of it's stance. I am flabbergasted by what it must take to do that. (This may offend, but I feel that she, she willl be in heaven before me). He also told me about a program at St. Nicks:
http://www.stnicksglff.org/history.html

I guess, I just found the coincidence of fordarkness' post and this meeting to be pretty amazing, and I at least, was satisfied with the discussion that resulted.

Oh in closing, some observations from the bible/church history:

The early Church was very communal.
Jesus said: "The most important one," Jesus answered, "is this: Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbour as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these."

finis

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 09:50:47 GMT

And the rest. Good to finally get the plot down and fleshed out after so long. Still some errors of course, but it was fun and something new for me at least.

Chapter VII: Dust

And after that? Well I came to Mr. Hill standing next to me saying: “Ash, the police are here, they need to talk to you.” I told them about the two guys attacking us but, even as I noted that I had stabbed one of them, they never asked to see my knife. There blind spot was disturbing but I was loath to question it especially as that little blade had saved my life. After the police finished with me Mr. Hill drove me to the hospital where Jania was. The hatchet hadn’t bitten too deeply and they expected her to regain full use of her arm but the damage still required much work. I learned then that we would be driven to and from school from that point on which, while annoying, was frankly relieving to hear.

Jania awoke while I was visiting Friday morning. She stared at me rather strangely and asked where I had gotten the knife. It seems at least one person had noted its’ existence. I spilled everything: its’ strange sharpness, the visions and strange thoughts, and even the weird ability at math. She promised to help me if we could and suggested researching the starburst symbol at the library: “The library computers have access to a lot of different research databases, maybe we could find something related to it that could, well, explain what’s going on.” I turned down her offer though, countering: “Jania, you’re in the hospital, just concentrate on getting better and going back to school. We can worry about this later.”

Saturday I went to the library and started trawling through databases. I found nothing. I continued my research every day however until on Tuesday Jania came home. She was even going out to the movies, and maybe dinner, with Kevin on Friday. She wondered if I wanted to join them, especially since I would be home alone otherwise since her parents were attending a conference that weekend, but she seemed to be excited about going to the movie with Kevin, not about going to a movie with all of us, so I declined. I had the car to myself since Kev was driving Jania, so I decided to stop by the library for more research but I couldn’t find anything beyond the old legend Mr. Hall had already told me. Defeated, I headed home.

Arriving home I found the door from the garage smashed open. I looked inside and saw no one so I went to the kitchen to call the police. It was wrecked and the phone was smashed. I fled back towards the car and found the smashed door repaired and jammed shut. I reached for my knife and realized it wasn’t there. I had left it in my room since I had started driving to school and was, I had thought, no longer in danger. Anyways I had my pouch… which I checked immediately and realized it was still empty. I grabbed a kitchen knife and started up the stairs when I saw a man come in through the front door. He was carrying a nasty looking saw and smiling strangely. I ran upstairs and he followed, moving much quicker than should have been possible. His hand closed on my foot as I reached the top of the stairs.

I kicked at him but with one leg under his control I couldn’t deliver any force. He brought the saw up to my leg and, panicked, I chucked the knife at him. By happenstance it hit him blade first in the arm. He screamed and let go of my so I headed to my room. Once I got in I locked the door and started working on get my warped window to open. I heard him starting to bang on the door and was about to just break the glass when my closet doors opened. One of the seniors stepped out carrying a knife in one hand and two glowing rubies in the other. I backed up to my dresser. He smiled and stepped towards me: “I have something special planned for you, my little survivor.” He took another step and held out the gems to me. He shook his hand and black dust billowed out floating towards me. I took another step back and opened my dresser drawer, felling for my knife with my right hand while waving at the dust with my left. It was an instinctual reaction but the wrong one. The dust clung to my hand and then PAIN! I watched in horror as the dust started eating into my figures.

I finally found the knife and brought it out but the dust continued eating away. I screamed and stabbed at the other student. My dagger hit the gems and they dissolved. They seemed full of red dust which was immediately absorbed into my knife. Then, finally, the dust dropped off my dissolved figures and floated into the blade. The student collapsed and the banging on my door stopped. I looked in surprise at my knife and found it changed. The blade was no longer some black substance; it now looked like ordinary steel with a watery pattern. The handle was still black but it now resembled obsidian rather than a strange dark wood. And then I caught a glimpse of my left hand. The tips of my figures were gone eat to the bone. And the pain, oh the pain.

I woke up in the hospital. I could see shapes. The resolved, eventually into Jania and ?my mom? Yes it was her. She sitting in a chair by my bed crying. And then I saw my hand. There were bandages coving my knuckles, but only my thumb was left. And the pain, it was still there. But the rubies were gone and so was my knife. Over the next week I slowly recovered. I learned that the student and the man in my house had been found, brain dead in the Hill’s house. They had apparently just lost mental functioning and then died as their bodies shut down. It seemed to be over then. I prayed it was.

Finis

story cont.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 01:49:18 GMT

Well, looks like I'm on a roll. Things are going much more quickly than last time since I have most of the plot in my head already. Hope it isn't too terrible.

Chapter V: A dance! It could be worse, oh wait, it was.

While walking home from school on Monday Jania had her revenge for math club: “Hey Ash, you know that school dance this weekend, the costume dance before Halloween? Remember how I did math club with you for 2 weeks? Well… guess what? Dad got tickets for both of us to go to the dance; we’re shopping for costumes tomorrow.” I just nodded my head, stuck speechless in admiration for Jania’s vengeance. We both thought badly of how our school organized dances but only I truly despised them.

When we got home I ran up to what had become my room and grabbed the sheath. I grabbed my talisman from around my neck and took the both to Mr. Hill. He examined the marks carved into the sheath and tooled into the pouch. The one symbol that appeared multiple times on both was almost a starburst bisected by a spear. He asked if I could leave them with him to study. I was reluctant to give both up so I left the sheath with him. Soon it was dinner time and after eating I ran back up to my room and started doodling patterns for a bit.

I thought back to the vision I had seen but I still couldn’t make anything of it and the thought just worsened that headache that had been my constant companion since Sunday. To take my mind off things I picked up some problems from math club I had been meaning to get to, but they ended up being rather easy; I could almost see how they worked in my head. I didn’t think much of that though until I put them away and saw the pages of work I had filled earlier in solving only one of them. Thought flashed in my head: “What was happening to me?” and strangely enough I got an almost-response. I “saw” again the picture of me wielding the knife, and felt a foreign regret, then a feeling of debt, and then a word: “Recompense.” And with that I decided to go to bed, hopefully in the morning things would make more sense.

Tuesday classes were even more boring than usual but since my headache had been slowly going away all day I counted the day as a net gain. When I started to walk home though, I was given an unpleasant reminder: “ASH! Where are you going? Mom’s picking us up today to get costumes for the dance.” Since I wanted to keep my pouch-talisman, I had decided I would go to the dance as a Native American. Since Jania was going as a gunslinger, her mom had decided to go to a friend with a local historical society for help for both our costumes, thus all we had to shop for was materials. We did have to help out in making the costumes but they turned out fantastic so I didn’t mind.

When we got home Mr. Hill brought me back the sheath. As its’ material was not, in fact wood, but instead some artificial substance it wasn’t a true artifact, but he had still found reference to the symbol. He took out an old book and showed me a copy of the symbol. Apparently it was related to an old legend of a spirit that had slaughtered a village slaughtering most of the population and burning the rest. The shaman for the tribe had forced the spirit out of the soul survivor and trapped it in a vessel which was then buried in a hidden place. The vessel was inscribed with the very same starburst and spear design. That story was the only reference he found to it.

Wednesday’s math club confirmed that something had happened to me since visiting the tree. I could see where to go with even the hardest problems and the scary part was that it didn’t feel like someone was helping me with the answers; it felt completely normal, just like solving basic algebra problems had in the past. I went through the rest of the week in a daze which promptly ended when Jania dragged me home on Friday to get my costume ready for the dance.

It was as expected, boring. There were barely any upperclassmen there so I only knew a few people there. Someone had even gotten rap music into the mix, which was just about the last straw for me. At least I wouldn’t have to adjust my prejudices about dances. Jania dragged me out onto the dance floor and even got me into some of the group dancing. And then, horror of horrors, “soulja boi” began. I left before that atrocity could be inflected upon my unwilling ears yet again.

It was dark outside but the school being only a mile from home I decided to walk anyways rather than wait for a pickup. A block from the school I noticed somebody following me. I stopped and looked at him, wondering if it was a friend who had seen me leave. It wasn’t. I was about to turn and run when I saw fire trickling from his hands and dropping to the ground. And then he was running towards me. I screamed but there was no one nearby. I pulled out my pouch, hoping to use the stones in it to damage him, when I realized that all it had in it was dust. He was almost to me; was reaching with hands full of flame, when I reached into the pouch and threw the dust into his face. The dust covered him. He clawed as his eyes. His fire went out. He inhaled it. And then, then he collapsed, going into some sort of a seizure. And then something, some sort of black cloud, left him and fled away.

When the ambulance and police arrived they confirmed he was dead, cause unknown. They questioned me some. I explained what had happened and how I had thrown dust into his eyes. When the report came back and they learned that he had died of a heart attack by no means caused by inhalation of dust I was allowed to go home. I later learned that he had been the son of the professor who had earlier been murdered.

Chapter VI: Consequences of survival.

I exalted in being alive. True, I slept an exhausted sleep but on Saturday I was alive! I spent the morning jogging in a nearby park rather than doodling as per norm. I did, however, take my knife with me. It was, thankfully, a short blade and legal in my state. That night we had Kevin and Erin over and watched movies. And then, as I went to sleep, my headache momentarily returned, much worse than before. After it left, I felt terrible and had a thought stuck in my head: “He will rage.”

On Sunday I got another visit from the police. Detective Barnes informed me of the identity of my attacker and asked if I knew anything further about the rubies. At first, I drew a blank but slowly a disturbing thought entered my head. I showed him the sheath I had found and the symbol upon it and asked him if it might be the same symbol as the one upon that half-burned statue found in our campfire so long ago. He brought out some pictures and, as far as he could determine, it was. Eventually I referred him to Mr. Hill for the background about that symbol and he asked to take the sheath with him so he could make a match. I assented; I didn’t really think he was going to be leaving without it if he could help it. Anyways, while the dagger was abnormally sharp, it seemed to do just fine in an ordinary sheath.

On Tuesday comprehension hit me. An hour after I came home from school Jania came up to me trembling in horror: “Ash, Ashley, look at the newspaper.” She was ashen. The first article read: “Slasher/burner spree takes 7. Two families were found dead Sunday night. The evidence seems to indicate that both fathers killed their families and were then burned alive. These crimes are reminiscent of the Bradley murder were the prime suspect, his post-doc was found burned to death after the murder.” I started shaking. I thought for a time and then made a few searches online. Then I found Mrs. Hill: “I was wondering if I could take the car out to go shopping for a few items of clothing.” She told me were the keys were and I drove over to a sporting goods store. I purchased a new sheath that I could secure under my shirt so I could carry my dagger with me. Then I bought some new shirts I could wear with it so it wouldn’t be obvious. That would have to do.

Thursday afternoon Kevin’s backpacking group met to being preliminary planning for our next trip. Jania and I stayed late to clean up and when we got outside everyone else was gone and there were two guys standing between us in the car. One held a hatched and the other had licks of flames covering his hands. I told Jania to run and reached into my pouch for some dust but it was empty. I panicked for a second and they almost reached me when Jania threw her backpack at them. Hatchet took a swing at her, blood flew from her arm and I, I grabbed my knife.

I began to strike at Hatchet when fire punched me. I fell, but the flames, they were absorbed by my knife. Jania, meanwhile had recovered, yelled, and ran. Fire took after her while Hatchet swung at me. I blocked his blow with my knife and his ax just fell apart. The lack of resistance turned my block into a strike and my dagger was soon buried in his head. We both collapsed and I felt my dagger become heavy in him. Then Jania screamed. I ran to her and found fire standing over her, his hand beginning to catch flames again. I stabbed him in the back. As he collapsed, I saw a dark cloud leave his body but when it tried to float away, it was drawn into my blade and absorbed.

Stories

Sun, 02 Nov 2008 03:54:41 GMT

So... as I may have mentioned, I am currently a Graduate Student at Northwestern, since my family lives in Atlanta, I see them rarely. When we do meet, esp. when some of my cousins are present, I occasionally tell scary stories.

When I went on a retreat in the Spring, I decided to start to write a more complete story. And then, it fell by the side as I became busy.

Fast forwarding to now, I have decided to start it up again. For fun, and to encourage me to keep with it, I am going to post the first chapter. I'll try to put everything up eventually.

Chapter I: Fire, Do not apply to arm.

My story begins with an argument. It was an innocent thing. We were camping in the woods, and I wanted to go for a walk, to feel the breeze and watch the birds flitter between the trees. Sadly, I had my favorite ball and chain with me on the trip, my 15 year old brother, Chris. While I was joyful at being on our family trip, Chris was sulking at being stuck in the stupid woods. I was doing my best to charm my brother into agreeing to take a walk by threatening bodily harm, but sadly, my towering 5 foot frame just didn’t inspire sufficient fear in him. He was insisting on me agreeing to do the dishes in exchange for agreement. Fortunately, dad intervened, suggesting that, if we wanted a fire, we might gather firewood, which would involve taking a walk. My brother was tided over to a more correct attitude by the promise of fire.

And so I ventured out into the woods with Chris in tow and began collecting deadfall. Chris soon became bored and went back to get the hatchet and have some fun cutting down trees, but I was enjoying myself too much to care. There is great beauty to be found in a forest while the day gives way to night. I wondered fairly far in my quest to gather fallen twigs, and soon found myself face to face with an enormous, ancient tree. After staring at it for some time, entranced by its age, I realized it was time to head back and check on my brother. I soon found the trail I had left while entranced by the sights of the woods and not long thereafter found my brother, standing by a dead tree trunk, picking up twigs, seems that even the mighty lumberjack bored quickly of the work involved in cutting down saplings. As I approached he snatched a piece of carved wood up and turned toward home himself.

After we reached camp, dad set about gathering up the twigs and kindling and began to build the base of the fire. Chris, meanwhile, instead of becoming interested in the prospect of something burning, immediately grabbed his pocket knife and began whittling at some chunk of wood. Seeing that he was finally occupied, I applied 1 part sweetness and 2 parts begging and procured permission to once again head out into the woods to see the sights and look at the stars, as long as I carried a flashlight and stayed close to camp of course. Mumbling about how my stupid brother was old enough not to need me to baby-sit and keep him entertained, I headed off. Stumbling through the woods, letting the light breezes take me wherever they willed, I rambled around, occasionally looking up at the stars and observing the bats. Eventually I found myself back at that old ancient tree. I lay down, and daydreamed about being a powerful sorceress, and rescuing dragons from bloodthirsty knights.

I came back to myself to the hooting of an owl, and felt the cold of the night trickle down my back. Twilight was over and darkness had fallen so I switched on my light and headed back. It was right after I found the path that I heard the scream. It was faint, but I was sure it was from camp. I arrived breathless to find Chris lying half in the remains of a burnt out fire, his right arm holding the hatchet, cover in blood, and his left burned, almost charred beyond recognition. My vision tunneled in on the body, I pulled him from the fire before realizing that he would never stand again. Still dragging him back, hoping I was wrong, I stumbled over something. Turning around I found my mom. She was bleeding from a few wounds, unconscious, but I could tell she still breathing from the movement of her chest. Still her wounds looked terrible. I tried to cover them with my sweater, but, well, I knew little of first aid. I yelled to dad for help, but he didn’t answer, and so I went into his tent, and found him their lying on the ground, his head half severed by strokes of an ax. When I came to, I reached into his coat, grabbed his cell phone, and called 911. After I explained where I was, they promised to send help and told me to stay on the line.

It was then that I heard a sound coming from outside the tent, I dropped the cell in fright, turned around and stared at the fire from which a few embers, and the still burning statuette, had fallen in the direction of my brother’s crisped arm. And for some reason, even though my heart had already been broken, it was this simple sight that truly frightened me out of my mind. It was almost as if the dying fire was reaching out to consume my poor little brother’s body. After staring in terror for many, long seconds, I found some resolve deep within, filled some bowls with dirt, and smothered those damned embers.

30 minutes later, a chopper arrived, dropped off some detectives, and whisked me and my mother away to the hospital. During the ride I fell asleep, and thus did that black day end.

Chapter II: And then, school.

I awoke in a chair outside a hospital room to a detective, Officer Barnes, shaking me. They had a few questions about what had happened. After I told them about how I had arrived to find Chris and dad dead and mom out of it, they showed me the hatchet and asked if it was one that we had brought with us, once I confirmed this, they showed to me a pair of rubies and asked if I recognized them. They were as puzzled as I was when I responded no. And then I remembered Chris, sitting by the soon to be made fire, whittling at that chunk of wood. I asked if the rubies might have belonged to that half burned statuette that was left in the fire. When they said yes, I said that my brother had found it when we were gathering firewood. I was able to give little else in the way of information.

Later that day Jania, and her dad, Mr. Hill came to pick me up. She had been my best friend since we were silly little freshmen together, and ran right up to me: “Ash, we got your call, it’s just, terrible.” When we got to their house they regaled me with some of the legends of the local tribe, Jania even going so far as to act out some of the more… appropriate moments. They were obviously trying to keep my mind off my troubles, but it was no good. Eventually, I went to the guest room and stared at the ceiling late into the night.

The next morning I went back to the hospital to see how mom was doing, and learned that she was no longer in critical condition and had regained consciousness. As I went into her room, I saw the two detectives leaving, so I asked mom what they had wanted. She started crying. I gave her a hug and she tearfully explained that they wanted to know who had attacked her. And she, she had had to confirm that it was my brother.

Two days later, I visited mom again. She looked to be recovering, but her face was haggard, she barely looked up as I entered. She simply murmured “how?” and sobbed. I gave her a hug, but she, she just didn’t seem to be completely aware and didn’t respond at all. I slowly began to realize that my stay with my friend would in no way be short term. I spent the rest of my visit silent, just being in presence in the room with mom. And, like this days passed.

Two weeks after it happened I awoke to a most unpleasant announcement: “ASH PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DOOM, WE GO SHOPPING!” I mumbled to Jania: “Huh, wha, why?” And so the implications of time passing dawned upon me as Jania patiently explained: “School starts next week, time to buy stuff.” Many hours later I had folders chosen that just might survive a year of me, various other arcane implements for my course load, and a dread of the words: “Oh, Jania, look at this, this would look so fantastic on Ash.” As we sorted everything out that night while watching Firefly Jania sweetly informed me that the trip had been fantastic: “I’ve never gotten out of there before without mom finding at least 20 things I just had to try on.” Jania was less amused when I volunteered us to join the schools math team though during orientation the next day: “Come on Jania, you were saying about how math class was too easy, it will be fun!"

Chapter III: Mistakes will be corrected.

After a week of school, I was certain that little would be different from the previous year, well academically at least. My sketchbook had already gained a few new additions, and homework was, for yet another year, not aptly named. Math club was OK, especially since it didn’t conform to the stereotype of a gathering place for the less social students, well, other than me. On the homefront, mom hadn’t changed. Oh, her wounds had mostly closed, but she had retreated even further into herself. I held her hand a lot.

Thus when Friday night came I was graced with an absence of school work. I was spend my time doodling trees when I heard a crash and PAIN! My arm burned, and a was unable to trap a scream. Lying on my bed, with my left arm spread out, I saw, lying in the glass fragments a brick, and tied to it was a note. "That there was one survivor was my mistake, but that will soon be corrected." Once I was sure I could speak without screaming in pain, I yelled for Mr. Hill, and he called the police after I showed him that my arm was not in need of medical attention.

After we told the officer about my father’s earlier murder, Detective Barnes came to see me again. Even though it was rather obvious that the brick came from outside, he was still skeptical of the note, seeing as my brother was, being dead, rather much unable to write. He noted that all the evidence pointed to my brother having been the sole killer, and told me it was probably just some sick prank. I wasn’t able to think of anyone who would do such a thing to me and as there was no physical evidence the police had nothing to start on.

I spend as much of the weekend as I could in bed, covering my bruise with compresses. Monday was miserable, but after classes Jania, bubbling with excitement: “Hey, Ash, remember Kevin? Guess what? He’s forming a backpacking club! Aaron and Erin are both joining, and they are organizing a weekend trip in two weeks. You wanna come right? I told Kev you would.” She was so sure that it would cheer me up, that I just had to go, and in the end, it worked. With anticipation driving my days, the week passed without much pain.

On Friday the anticipation was replaced with dread. First I learned that mom was moving in with my Grandparents. She wasn’t well enough to care for me, so I would be living with the Hills. And I got to see Detective Barnes again. He came to visit with another officer and asked if he could talk to me. He began by asking me, again, if I had any recollection of the two rubies I had been shown earlier, and showed me a picture of them. I was puzzled and again told him I hadn’t.

He then showed me a piece of a newspaper. The article began: “Professor found butchered in lab! Professor Bradley was found in his laboratory, killed by multiple stab wounds. When entered his home was found to be vandalized and the post-doc who worked under him was found, dead, in the kitchen, with one arm burned to ash, and the other hacked off. His son is missing, presumed dead.” Detective Barnes informed me that the professor had been examining the two rubies from my father’s murder and that the only things missing from his lab and house were said rubies, along with all the results from the tests he had run. Even knowing this though, I couldn’t remember anything else that could be relevant.

Chapter IV: Again with the Tree.

Thankfully, Friday didn’t set the trend for the weekend. Saturday morning I got another Jania style wakeup call for a new shopping expedition, however, shopping for a backpacking trip turned out to be much more enjoyable than finding clothing and school supplies, although I was somewhat dubious where Jania’s choice in foodstuffs was concerned: “Come on Ash, silver-turtles are great and pistachio pudding, it’s like a must for camping trips.”

On Sunday I visited mom for a last time before grandpa was picking her up. She was out of bed at least and was actually able to talk to me but she looked so downtrodden; her heart just wasn’t up to happiness. I tried though: “Mom, schools going great and guess what? I’m going backpacking next weekend with Jania, Kevin, and some friends. It’s going to be great.” Her response was a lackluster: “That sounds great honey.” We both sat in silence for a time before I gave her a hug and left. I guess, in then end, I was the only one to have survived. On Monday mom left.

School that next week was endurable but barely. After class on Thursday the club got together and we agreed on our route. Our fun was interrupted when Kev’s dad reminded us that since we were going to be gone all weekend we should get a start on homework early, but we decided to meet in an hour at Kev’s house to get our work done, finish packing/preparing, and watch a movie. Getting ready was fairly fun although since Aaron and I were the only ones in physics I had to play tutor for a time, but eh, it beats memorizing stuff for bio. As for the movie, well by the time we were done with our work it was rather late, so instead of renting something we raided Kevin’s collection. We ended up watching some weird anime movie which wasn’t bad. Too bad he didn’t have Serenity though.

After class let out on Friday we split into two cars and drove out to the trailhead. The car trip was kind of fun. After Erin turned down the music Jania suggested a game of ghost and ended up wiping the floor with me. When we got there we got our gear on and started the short mile hike to our first camping spot. Fortunately in our planning we were able to choose trails to avoid where my family had camped on my last trip, so I was able to enjoy myself. The short hike was invigorating, and after we set up camp we gathered firewood. By the time we started cooking it was nearing twilight so we ended up eat next to a roaring campfire. At which point Aaron had an idea: “Hey let’s have some fun. While we make smores, we tell scary stories. Each person has the time it takes to roast a round of marshmallows to tell their story. Whoever’s story is scariest gets lead for tomorrows backpacking.” I started with a tale of a mutated lizard raiding homes through the sewer system, which ended up being about as comic as it was scary. My enjoyment of the moment was fragile though and when Erin told an old tale of an Ax-murderer killing a family in the woods the mood died.

The next morning we had the pistachio pudding and hot chocolate for breakfast, which was OK I guess, but only because I wasn’t hungry. Then we policed our site and started out. We had planned an 8 mile hike for the day, 4 miles, then lunch and 4 more. The trip was somewhat strenuous, but time passed quickly while we told stories. Jania had a great one about her biology teacher: “On Friday when we were studying evolution he actually set up a shadow puppet show and “evolved” from crawling to walking upright. It was hilarious.” When we reached the camping site we set up our tents and ran over to the nearby river to skip rocks and play around. It was a blast but I soon decided that I needed sometime to think and set off into the woods. After twenty minutes of ambling along I lay down and gazed at the sky through the leaves. It was then that I noticed a massive old tree which looked rather familiar. Going up to it, I was certain it was the same on I had rested against those few weeks ago. I realized that this place, this was where I was when it happened. Finding the bodies flashed through my mind as I fell against the tree. Things went black.

I awoke lying against the trunk of the tree and felt some dig into my back. Turning around I saw a short dagger sheathed in some beautifully carved wood and with a black handle with something carved into it. Attached to the handle by a leather string was a pouch. Taking hold of it I felt an image form in my head of me holding the dagger out as a darkness menaced me. The darkness was drawn into the blade slowly. I shock my head thinking: “This isn’t happening.” Continuing my investigation I drew the dagger and touched the blade. It wasn’t cold at all and felt more like wood than metal but when I tested it against a nearby tree, it sank right in. I stumbled back and let go of the knife, which fell out of the tree. I mumbled: “That, that’s impossible.” Gathering my courage, I sheathed the short dagger and opened the pouch. I could see nothing but dust in it. Not feeling adventurous enough to stick my hand in, I dumped the pouch out. The dust fell and swirled around me but there was nothing else inside. I closed the pouch, slipped the dagger into my belt, and headed back to camp.

Arriving at camp, Jania ran up to me and crashed into me: “Where have you been! We got back from the river almost two hours ago. Kevin’s mom was really worried about you!” I replied: “I found the tree I was at back then.” She stopped talking and gave me quick hug and everything was forgotten. We had the silver turtles that night and after eating played a bit of manhunt in the woods. When we settled into our tents I showed Jania the sheath and pouch I had found, not mentioning the vision, nor the dagger. She recommended I take it to her father who specialized in studying the tribes that had lived in the area. I agreed. Later that night, after Jania fell asleep, I pulled out the pouch and looked into it again. It still had some dust in it, but nothing else. “Might as well put it to use” I thought. I improvised a sort of necklace, hung it between my breasts, and dropped some skipping rocks I had picked up at the river into it. I guess I felt of it as if it were some kind of talisman.

I woke with a mild headache which endured all day despite a painkiller, but otherwise Sunday was a rather plain. We finished up our trip and drove home, where upon I promptly shower, halleluiah, got dressed, and went straight back out to go to mass. As I fell asleep that night I realized that I had forgotten to show Mr. Hill what I had found and resolved to bring it up to him after school on Monday.

So I went on retreat.

Thu, 15 May 2008 02:56:40 GMT

Had a great team with some old friends and some new faces, and go to talk a lot, which, well it's something I like doing.
Also wrote a little, which is new for me, and sketched some, which I love to do on retreat, and so I present....

<Resolution is better in the scrapbook version>

Weather is fun!

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 23:10:45 GMT

So, this is my first spring in Chicago, and wow, the weather is schizophrenic. It was a balmy 60 degrees last week and I finally got to break out my shorts and tees. So, I get up this morning, late as usually, and head off to class, not realizing things have changed until I get out the door. I decide to just deal with it in my shorts, since I am already late. Bad decision. Walking 15 minutes home in rain with the wind-chill knocking it down to 27 F.... not pleasant.

In other news... it appears that my professors communicate more than we expected. Tomorrow we get our week long take home midterm in one of my classes, and another prof, who has as of yet given 1 assignment is finally getting around to do another one. Joy.