I’m a little upset…

I’m extremely upset with myself but not for any of the reasons you’re probably thinking. When I went to the doctor in December of 2016 the doctor told me ‘throughout the whole year I had lost 10 pounds’.  He was excited however I knew I could do better.  Small changes & I could take off way more than that.  So I decided that I would change the way I ate, not take anything out but just eat less.  When I get full I’ll stop.  I went to the doctor in March of 2017 && I had lost 18 pounds.  18 pounds in four months without changing what I ate only how much, how often, &&& I was NOT exercising.

I was on cloud 9!  Because I just proved my preaching correct.  Yes, it’ll take me a while to get the other 147 pounds off but I know I can do it.

Sitting in the doctor’s office I decide that I’m going to add exercise to my life.  You know, just a small walk – once a day between 20 & 30 minutes.  If I go longer yay!  If I don’t Yay!  When a person doesn’t get any exercise whatsoever, a small amount does wonders.

So last Wednesday I decide to put it to work.  I go for my walk and feel wonderful but I’m hungry.  All day.  Every day.  Because I know logically I’m not eating enough food.  Because when you start calorie counting it scares the living crap out of you!  You look at things you eat daily and finally realize that you are in taking so many calories.

I scared myself into calorie counting when I began this by just wanting to add exercise.  I wanted to prove to the world that you don’t have to chew on lettuce, or snack on celery.  That you could go and enjoy a meal out when you don’t feel like cooking.  Or stop by the convenience store and get some crispetoes.   But I didn’t do that.  I stopped eating anything deep fried (I don’t that often anyway), stopped asking for pizza.  I WAS STILL EATING PIZZA WHEN I LOST THE 18 POUNDS WITH NO EXERCISE.

I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re miserable.
I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re hungry all the time.
I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re not satisfied with what you’re doing.

I got to the point last night that I was scared to eat.  &&& I was hungry.  I’m not talking bored hungry, or whatever.  I was stomach growling uncomfortable please give me something in an IV hungry.  But I was scared because I would go over calories.  Who cares if I eat over 1,910 calories a day.  Last weekend at work I was miserable.  MISERABLE.  I’m sitting there hungry just thinking about  the next moment I get to eat.  I wasn’t thinking about work.  I was thinking about food.  Because I was hungry.

I do believe that I need more water.
I do believe that I need less deep fried foods.
I do believe that I need more greens, veggies, & fruits.

But I also believe that I will not do this if I’m hungry all the time and only thinking about food.  So I need to stop && readjust what I’m doing.  Because I’m doing something wrong.

When I go back to the doctor in July if I don’t lose the 47 pounds – that’s okay.  But I do want to see if it’s possible to lose weight without eating ONLY veggies and fruits.  I’m a huge meat eater – I don’t think a dinner is complete without some form of meat.  People will & have argued with me over that, but if I look at a plate of nothing but veggies and fruits, I’m unhappy.  Now, add a piece of nicely cooked chicken or pork chops, I’m happy.  When you’re fighting food you can’t be unhappy with it because then you’re just going to try & find something to make you happy.  When you have issues && turn to food – guess what you’re going to do trying to find a happy place.  You’re going to eat.  &&& eat.  &&& eat.

What I need to readjust in my head is my motivation.  I want off my medication.  I don’t want it to get worse I want it to get better and until I pull off some weight it won’t work.  But I’m NOT going to be unhappy while I do this.  Because I’d rather stay overweight && be happy, then lose all of the weight and be scared of food. Be scared of eating an apple because they have hidden sugars and it might make me fat again.  What kind of life is that?

What if I want to make spaghetti one night and have a big bowl of it and just enjoy it?  I can’t if I’m scared of food.  I don’t want to be scared to buy food at work the days I wake up so tired && it takes everything to go for my walk let alone make myself breakfast, lunch, diner & snacks.  When I could just go to work and get something.  Yes, it’s not healthy, but I feel like eating nothing but fruits and veggies will be unhealthy too.  Especially for someone like me.  Who – when hungry – eats, and eats, and eats until I get to the point of making myself sick.  But I am full after I eat in the first place I don’t think about food as much.  I mean I’m always thinking about food – that’s just me.  Like I have already figured out what I’m making tomorrow night for dinner and I haven’t been to sleep.

No, I’m not trying to talk myself out of weight loss.  I’d never do that.  What I’m trying to do is secure the weight loss.  I’m trying to make sure I don’t fail…. again.  I’m tired of being overweight.  I’ve been tired for year.  I know calorie counting with my app on my phone works.  But I’m unhappy.  I will never finish my weight loss if I feel like this.  I’ll never get to a healthy weight if I feel like I do right now.

What made me realize all of this?  I freaking LOVE Frito chili pie.  LOVE.  IT.  I’m not a chili eater unless you give me Frito’s, cheese, onions & salsa.  &&& I’m in love.  Tonight the Boyfriend wanted that for dinner and I’m not going to tell him no.  I made a Frito chili pie tonight for myself using the serving size.  I don’t know if anyone has ever tried to eat a serving size of Frito’s & chili but it seriously made me so sad.  I just sat there & thought about what I was trying to accomplish and what I was doing to myself not eating a normal portion for someone my size.

So I’m going to turn right && choose to eat what I want to eat.  Yes, I will still eat the good-for-me foods like I have been.  But I think I’m going to stop counting calories.  I’ll keep my app, I’ve had it for years.  I want to see if adding exercise, & drinking more water will double my weight loss in July.

So yeah, I probably just made this even harder for myself to get the weight off && it’ll probably take me years.  But that’s okay.  It is.  It’s fine.  But I’d rather be doing this for years then be unhappy right now.  But we never know… maybe a miracle will happen && I can get the next 150 pounds off in the next year & a half.

All I have to remember is one thing… exercise. exercise. exercise. exercise.
Plus, as I exercise and my body gets more used to it I’ll be able to increase it and do more.

One day at a time.

Quick Update.

I have been slacking a little.  It’s normal for me, though, to not write daily.  I try but then I fail.  I usually welcome the fail before I fail.  That way I’m not disappointed.

It’s basically been a week since I began this and it’s not been too horrible.  I have obstacles, just like anyone else, that I have to jump.  Some of them make it hard – like the fact that I’m still fat.  Yeah.  I had one of those moments – where you go exercise and feel fantastic then get a glimpse of yourself && realize you’re still fat.  It’s heart breaking!  But it’s okay.  One day at a time.

Monday & Tuesday weren’t good days.  They weren’t horrible days – but they weren’t good.  That’s okay though.  I woke up late on Monday (I work that night) so I didn’t have time to get in some exercise or making my own dinner.  So I ended up eating a chicken fried steak sandwich from Toby’s Keith’s & chips & dip.  It was delicious but was it worth the calories?  Probably not…

Tuesday is my first day off, however, getting home at 6 in the morning I tend to sleep until afternoon to early evening.  So I woke up with enough time to make dinner – ended up making chicken parm with spaghetti and meatballs.  Yeah!  That’s right.  When I ruin my diet I ruin it well.  But if it makes everyone feel better – it made my stomach hurt and I was in the bathroom most of the night getting it out.

My stomach was pissed off!

Tonight we’re having hamburgers & hot dogs but have no fear I’m doing it the smart way.  I’m not going to over due it.  I exercised today – had Boyfriend && his daughter join me.  0.73 miles.  21 minutes.  Doesn’t take me long to do it but like I said, I shoot for at least 20 minutes because that’s a lot compared to nothing.

I’ll end this one really quick – dinner is done.  After I eat and Boyfriend goes to work I’ll come back and ramble some more.

Enjoy your day!

End of Day One.

Normally I will update the day I’m on however last night while cooking dinner I aggravated myself somehow and just wanted the day to end.  So I went to bed.

My goal of calories for the day is 1,910.

I started the day off on a high note.  I was so proud of myself.  Woke up way too early (I hate waking up that early for any reason whatsoever) and made myself breakfast.  Decided to use the night before left overs which was a small pork chop.  Diced it up and added spinach, white onion, and mushrooms.  Sautéed all of that together and then added three eggs, yes, seriously, I added three eggs.  Horrible habit I must break.  Then I made some shredded hash browns and sprinkled some hot sauce over it.  All of that together was 433 calories.

I live in an apartment complex and there is a side walk that circles the buildings.  I figured it had to be really close to a mile  which usually takes me about thirty minutes to walk.  So after breakfast, too close to breakfast && it made me a little sick, so I took a walk around the complex.  It took me 20 minutes to walk 0.73 miles.  Which sucks, but it’s okay.  20 minutes is better than nothing.

I couldn’t find the fill line of my stomach yesterday so all day I stayed hungry but I knew I’d need a little extra calories for dinner so I decided just to toughen it out.  So around a normal lunch time I made a small lunch.  Boiled some pasta, added a can of tuna, with mushrooms, white onion and spinach then made a small fruit salad with apple, banana, & kiwi.  That came out to be 451 calories.

I know that one of the hardest parts of changing the way you eat is feeling hungry when you logically know you’re not.  Have to find ways to make things filling so you don’t feel like that.  However, it takes me some time to figure out the line.  I had to run up to the store for some flour and I ended up eating a monster size Slim Jim (270 calories).  Yep!  Seriously.  I knew better and logically I knew there was something better for me at the store but I ate it anyway.  I finally got to the point where I didn’t feel like I was starving.  (Please don’t let my feeling of that detour anyone from redoing their eating habits.  Even before sometimes the more I ate the more hungry I felt.  So it’s just me.)

Once home I began making dinner and ended up having a chicken fried steak, green beans with bacon, mushrooms & onions, and a side of Rice O Roni (Rice Pilaf flavor).  (723 calories)  Sometime during the process of making this my mood shifted and I ended up getting really upset.  I have no idea why or how or anything.  But… I did & I ended up eating in silence, and then going to bed and laying there in the dark for a few hours before dozing off.

But.  Sadly before that I ended up eating ice cream that I didn’t have the calories for (I had 33 calories left because I don’t add in the exercise calories).  I think it was between 90 & 150 calories.  That’s where I stood that day I don’t even know how many calories was in the ice cream.

It’s okay though!  Completely okay!  Today is a new day and I just have to get back on.  Heck it’s only day two.  So I can’t get too mad at myself.

Goals.

Everyone talks about goals for weight loss.  I am not sure if I actually said what they are.  My goals are simple – to fit in some pants that I bought a few months ago that are too tight.  Right now they won’t go past my hips (which is weird to say because I don’t have hips) and I can’t put them on.  I tried my grandmothers trick – unbuttoned them, laid flat on the bed, and tried to button them like that.  I did get them on and buttoned, but it was only because The Boyfriend buttoned them for me.  But I couldn’t breathe so I took them off and put them away.  But I will get in them.

I would like to pull off 47 pounds before July 12, 2017.  Why this date?  I had a doctors appointment last week and I saw that I had pulled off 18 pounds in four months without exercising and without taking nothing away.  I was still eating a large pizza by myself, deep fried foods, etc.  I figure if I start exercising I could double that easily.  So, I figure 47 pounds should be a breeze especially if I start counting my calories.

I want off medication.  Right now I take four things per doctors orders & one because of what that medication does to me.  I take losartan & metoprol for blood pressure.  Then I take janumet & trulicity for diabetes.  Then of course since all four of those medications give me heartburn I added in Prilosec because I cannot handle the after effects of the heartburn.

See!  Realistic goals.

My unrealistic goal.  To be in a bathing suit before summer.  That would take a miracle. :)
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Day One Continued…

I’m going to drown you people with blogs.  I hope you’re ready for this….

At least today.  I’m sure they’ll start dwindling as the days progress.  I’m eventually going to get mad about that bucket of chicken.

Here are my rules for my weight loss.
1. No getting mad at myself if I fall off the wagon.
If one day I decide to eat that bucket of chicken in one sitting with a gallon of extra sweet, sweet tea watching reruns of my 600-Pound life crying like a two year old.  I will not get mad at myself.  I’ll just dust off the chicken crumbs, throw away the tea jug, stop watching that show (it makes me cry every time) and move on to the next day.  Tomorrow is always a new day…

2.  I will NOT keep anything from my diet.
I see a lot of people fail because they decide that they can not eat bread, pasta, rice, sugar (I barely eat this anyway), cakes, pies, etc.  So they pull it from the house and their daily consumption.  Here is what I learned the first time around: if I take something away and tell myself I’m not allowed to eat it.  I’m going to eat it.  And I’m going to eat a lot of it.  So, if I tell myself that I can have it, I’ll still eat it.  But I’m going to eat it reasonably.  So, if I want a piece of birthday cake – I’ll eat it.  Although, I don’t eat much sweets which makes me a weird fat person.  I make it up elsewhere, don’t worry.

3. Exercise is a must.
So what?  I only get in twenty minutes one day.  I won’t hate myself for that either.  I’m going to take that 20 minutes & be proud of myself.  (Went for a walk this morning and realized it only took me 20 minutes – I was aiming for at least 30.  I guess I walked too fast.)  Some doctors and specialists say that 20 minutes a day is perfect.

4. Have a cheat day!
Some say a cheat day detours you.  I don’t agree.  I’m also not a doctor or specialist – just a fat person trying to not fail.  When I pulled off the 50 pounds in three or four months I gave myself a cheat day.  It was payday and I would take myself to the Chinese place a couple towns over.  I eventually stopped going and did it less.  (I get paid bi-weekly.)  But I left that option there because it’s the only thing I find myself craving.

5. Give in to your cravings.
It sounds kind of weird.  But.. if you crave it.  Eat.  It.  If have a craving for something and tell yourself you can’t have it you’re going to be eating any & everything you can to fill that void.  So ladies, if you’re craving chocolate.  Eat it.  Just don’t eat the whole candy bar.  It’s possible, I promise.

6. Be lazy.
I toyed with this one for a while.  I always figured if you want to lose weight you can’t just sit & do nothing.  You always have to be up && doing something.  But when I realized that I am allowed to do nothing & just watch television, I was able to stay on track better.  You look at a lot of the well built people – body builders – gym goers… they always seem to be doing something.  So why can’t I find something to do?  Sometimes you just don’t have anything to do.  (Keep in mind you get exercise by doing household chores.  Laundry.  Dishes.  Sweeping.  Vacuuming.  Playing with your children.)

7.  Take a breather.
Don’t be stupid and over do it.  Your body will tell you how far and how much you’re able to do.  Don’t be stupid and go too far, too long, and kill yourself.  That’s pretty much more dangerous than being overweight.

8.  Eat your pizza.
This seems to be the one thing people hate giving up besides cheese, of course.  Don’t give it up.  Eat it.  Just don’t go crazy.  If you’re like me and cannot get full off of two to three slices… add a salad.  Yum!  Who doesn’t love salad?  Stop looking at me like that.  Eat a salad along with those two to three slices.  Yes, it’s a lot of calories, but so is the food you’re going to eat trying to fill that pizza void.  Just eat it.

9.  Don’t do it alone.
I’m not saying put everyone in your house on a diet.  What I am saying is to cook for everyone the same way.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with cooking better for other people.  Switching out baked fried chicken for oil fried chicken is healthy for everyone.  Having a turkey burger rather than a beef burger.. chicken rather than steak.    I mean, hey!  If you can make them fried chicken && not eat as much of it, all power to you!  I can eat one piece and walk away.  But I’m weird. :)

10. Don’t expect a miracle.
You didn’t put the weight on in one day no matter what you think.  It took years to get to the weight you’re at and you cannot expect to pull it off in one day or one week.  Or even one month.  Give yourself realistic goals and set them for yourself.  Realistic means something you know you can accomplish.  Don’t tell everyone that you’re going to pull off 100 pounds in six months.  Logically that is dumb.  You’re only supposed to lose 2-3 pounds a week, that’s only 8-12 pounds a month.  Stop setting yourself up for disappointment!

Some after thoughts:
Drink water.  Don’t get me wrong I will not give up soda, fact – I have a 2 liter diet cherry diet pepsi in my kitchen.  However, now instead of drinking a 2 liter in one day I can now make it stretch to at least a week.  I have put in more water in my diet because it’s good for you.  Don’t like straight water?  Crystal Light!  I freaking LOVE crystal light.  Especially the pink lemonade & cherry limeade.
Keep a food diary.  I have an app on my phone called FitnessPal.  It’s easy to use, quick, and I absolutely enjoy the app.  I also use one called Runtastic for exercising purposes.  It took me a few minutes to figure out but once you do it’s great!  I have looked at other apps thinking maybe there was a better one, but I haven’t found one that I like more than the two I have.
Explore with seasonings when cooking. You can make any and everything taste fantastic when you find seasonings that you like.
Find a hobby.  One of the problems I found I was having with losing weight is that I wasn’t thinking about anything ever other than food.  It was literally my first thought when I woke up, every thought during the day, and last thought before going to sleep.  Until I was around nineteen when I realized my food habits is in fact a problem and I found a hobby – which anyone who has followed me for a while knows it’s writing.  So now, my first, middle & last thought of the day is writing.  What to write about?  How to write it?  When will I write it?  Who is going to read it?  Who might like it?  I find myself lately only thinking about food when I’m laying in bed (when I’m too lazy to get up and eat) or when I am hungry.  Or when it’s time for medication.  Plus, I read somewhere from a specialist, I don’t remember where or when, but it said the urge to eat/snack/pack fried chicken in your face only lasts about ten minutes.  Once you get past the ten minute mark, usually you don’t have the urge to eat anymore.  Is it true?  I don’t know, I usually get angry when I don’t eat.  I’m working on that.
If I can give any advice right now to anyone.  It will always be “don’t be afraid to eat”.  I get it, whatever you put in your mouth stays.  I understand that.  I’ve fought weight issues all my life and up until lately I didn’t realize there are simple things you can do to fix it.  SIMPLE.  When you become afraid to eat you lose all power you have over food.  It wins.  && you cannot let it win.  You have to be the one who wins over it.  Right now it has a lot of power over you && once you realize why, or how… you can become victorious!

You’re probably thinking.. what gives you any right to tell me how to fix something when you are still overweight yourself.  Well… stay put, walk with me and follow along… and I will prove it to you && actually tell you what I eat and how many calories it is.  I will tell you how I feel afterwards, and everything.  I promise to prove to you everything I will say works for me.  &&&& I honestly feel like it would work for you to.

Keep wishing me luck!
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The beginning…

I’ve been trying to figure out a reason to use this blog.  I mean – I have had it since February of 2012 and I have issues about getting rid of things without a good reason.  But I think I have decided how to use this so I can keep up with different stuff.  Will I keep it updated?  Hopefully.

Today is day number one.

For what, you may be asking.  Well, I have decided to give this “weight loss” another try.  Back in 2013 I pulled off 50 pounds – boy was I so happy.  It took me four months to realize that I am capable of pulling the weight off I just have to have determination and stop eating a full bucket of chicken just because I can.  (I honestly don’t remember eating a full bucket of chicken in one sitting, but it’s a great example of what not to do.)

I fell off of track around November of that year.  I began having issues with my right foot, a pain so horrible that I was crawling to the restroom or crying when I walked on it.  I finally sought a doctors help and was told that I have plantar fasciitis in that foot.  For anyone that doesn’t know what that is – it hurts like a mother*bad word*.  I’m not 100% sure but I’m pretty sure that it has something to do with my weight and the fact that I am flat footed.  I’m not a doctor – I don’t know for sure.  But for some doctors my weight is the reason for everything.  “Oh, you’re having nightmares?  Yeah, it’s because you’re fat.”  “OOOOOH, you’re clumsy and breaks cups all the time?  Yeah, it’s because you’re fat.”  You might giggle at that, but I have had it.

I know, common sense, that most of my issues is my weight, which is what I’m attempting to do.  So, as long as someone fit doesn’t make fun of me for exercising – again – I’ll stay on track and do what I have to do.

So, again, this is day one of probably three million, seven hundred, eighty-nine days to go.  (I might be exaggerating a bit.)

Today has started out well but then again I have been up since about six-forty and it’s only 8:46.  (In The Morning)  Yep.  I’m awake with the sun and chirping birds.  My television is off.  Not by choice – well, I am mad at it.  It won’t stay connected to the internet and I can’t watch The Chew like I wanted to.

I feel like I got a full nights rest.  I drooled, and woke up wet.  That’s usually a good meaning.  Wait!  Stop that you dirty minded person!  Wet.. as in I drooled all over my t-shirt.  Ya nasty!  Would I still be asleep if the boyfriend hadn’t turned on all the lights in the house and blinded my darkness?  Maybe.  But I’m not so enjoy this.

Laid there for a little bit until he fell asleep.  THen I realized I was hungry.  Here is where the problem always happens.  Food.  Food is my problem.  Always has been.  I am pretty sure that it’s not because I want to eat it.  There are days (Like Saturday at work) where I don’t eat or want to each much.  So what’s my issue?  The taste.  I feel sorry for anyone out there who hasn’t eaten something and in the middle of that bite just stopped, took a deep breath with your eyes closed and just thought, “damn!  this is good.”  It’s a great feeling!  I decided though that just because I’m attempting to lose weight doesn’t mean that I will lose that feeling.  I just have to stop.  I can’t let that feeling go on for an hour – or I could if I eat slow… which I do.  Sometimes my speed of eating worries me.

Back on track.  So realizing I was hungry I decide to make myself breakfast.  Breakfast.  Breakfast.  Breakfast.  I’m saying it a lot trying to get my head to wrap around the fact you’re supposed to eat it daily and some say it’s the best meal of the day.  ((I like dinner.))  I have never been much of an egg eater and lately they don’t settle completely in my stomach.  They end up giving me, what I like to call “sulfur belches”.  The best way to describe them is farting out of your mouth.  Yes!  It’s really that disgusting.  I hate having them so I just tend to stay away from eggs as much as possible.

I have realized, though, that you don’t have to eat eggs for breakfast.  There’s other foods that are just as tasty.  All else fails – I’ll just make me a smoothie with tons of fruits.  But today I chose scrambled eggs (because I cannot make an omelet) with pork, spinach, onions, mushrooms & cheese with a side of hash brown. (483 calories)  I wonder, though, what is the appropriate amount of calories for breakfast?

I ate it.  I still feel hungry.  I’m not & I know this.  But I feel like it.  Snacks are going to be my friend.  Good snacks.  Like freshly popped popcorn or an apple.  Orange.  Banananana.

I think my downfall is and always will be exercising.  It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal especially when my goal is to exercise four days a week.  Why?  I work on Saturday, Sunday & Monday with not very much time in between.  I get home around six fifteen in the morning, go to sleep, wake up around three in the afternoon just to be at work by five thirty to do it all over again.  Three twelve hour days are fantastic until you realize that if you had a different shift you would have time to relax in between them.  Like third, the shift the boyfriend works – he goes to work around eight thirty at night and get’s home around six fifteen in the morning.  He has time in between shifts to do whatever.  Would I switch to third?  No.  Not at all.

I found time the first time around to exercise before work.  Wake up at two and exercise and still give myself enough time to get to work on time.  I live closer to work now but the big question, will I exercise before work?  If I do then I could actually exercise up to seven days a week.  That seems like a lot of exercising.

One issue I always seem to have when trying to lose weight is that I don’t want to be one of those people who cannot live without exercising.  I understand the benefits of it but do I want to do nothing but worry about exercising.  Miss one day and then get so mad at myself that the next day I nearly kill myself trying to make up for it?  (Yeah, I don’t think I’d get to that point either, but what if?)  I want it for the benefits of losing weight, getting off medication, and living past 40.

So… day one is starting off well.  Hopefully I get to a day 30 and everything is still going swimmingly.  Only time will tell, I guess.

Wish me luck!
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The Cure: Part Four

I know it’s been a few months, I apologize for that.  I have the attention span of a flea sometimes, that &&& I’m lazy.  Lazy as in I do nothing.  But I’m pretty sure everyone is like that sometimes.  But here, finally, is part four.  For anyone who thinks their behind and wants to catch up, or just haven’t read them yet: Here is Part One, Two, &&& Three.  I’m working on Part Five as I write this && should be done by the 20th.  At least that’s what I hope since that’s when it’s due for the thing at work.  ((I hate the way it copies.))

Anyway, enjoy!
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It had been a month since Zaire had been brought to a location without any knowledge.  He felt in a daze ever since Quinn had brought him in after lying to him about her motivations.  He wanted to zip inside of a time machine back to the day he met her in the hospital where she began spitting out lies about how she turned down a wrong road moving into a town which she loved and now everyone in the town, except her, has the same illness he has.  But in reality there is no such town or people, and he’s the only one that was poisoned and that’s because of Quinn.

He had never wanted to go home as much as he did right now as he sat in the middle of a twin concrete bed, a thin stained mattress – without a sheet – with one pillow and a thin white blanket.  The room he was given was small, almost the size of a bathroom in most apartments in New York City, and included a small window above his bed, a desk with an old style typewriter, stack of a solid white copy paper, and a lamp sitting on it, a closet that held his clothes, a two drawer side table that held pencils, notepad, and a bag of erasers.

Was Quinn trying to tell him something?

The restroom was three doors down on the left in a hallway by itself right next to a water fountain.  He wasn’t grateful for much, but he was really happy that the door to his room wasn’t locked and he was able to leave.  It wasn’t much, however, since he wasn’t able to leave the actual building.  He found himself a few times standing on his bed looking out of the window at the grass, trees and people that walked by.  He realized he was on an actual street with families probably in a large house.  The inside didn’t look like it, though, since all of the walls were silver and bolted together almost like everything was metal.  He was pretty sure the outside looked like a house or people would be looking at it weirdly.  But they weren’t; people would just walk past smiling and making jokes.  But for him this was a complete nightmare.

Standing up from the bed he stretched his legs and then back.  The last couple of days his legs have been bothering him – hurting in places he’s never hurt before.  At first he was blaming it on his illness but he has come to realize it’s because of his sitting all day and every day.  His body was giving up on him and there wasn’t much he could do about it.  So instead, he would stand up in his tiny room and walk around, or walk around the hallways that connected other rooms.  He began doing this daily, up and down hallways, trying to get the feel of the building and land trying to decide what he was going to do.  On the walks he’d look at all of the closed doors and wonder if there were other people in them.  Are they sick?  Did she lie to them and tell him how she was a sad maiden living a life of happiness and needs someone to slay her dragon?  Or was it just him?  Was he the only one she has treated like crap over a span of months?

After his daily walk he made his way back to his tiny room and sat down at the desk and stared down at the typewriter.  Since being here he had actually never sat and just looked at everything on this desk.  The typewriter was a brand he hadn’t heard of, Steinaker.  He thought of himself as a typewriter connoisseur.  But looking at this one and staring at the brand name he realized he didn’t know as much as he thought.

He looked around at all of the objects sitting on top of the desk.  A couple of them seemed a little shocking to him.  They went out of their way to make sure that the bed was made of concrete and the chair, sitting at the desk, was made of concrete and then they placed a small, thin, red seat cover on top.  But on the desk was a pair of scissors, a box of paper clips, thumb tacks, a metal letter opener and then a few other odds and ends like a telephone (which he was pretty sure didn’t work),  tape dispenser, a bottle of Purell, speakers that was connected to an empty iPod base, a box of Kleenex, pens and pencils.

Why would they do that if they wasn’t going to keep the bed metal or have a metal chair?  I could do more damage with scissors.  He shook his head trying to clear his mind.

Noticing the piece of paper sticking out of the top of the typewriter he pulled it out and read the line that was written out loud, “Write until your heart explodes.”  A part of him was pretty sure she meant that literal.  Figuring he’d humor her he grabbed a clean sheet of paper and slid it inside of the typewriter and began typing: He was silent as she stood behind her.  He could see the goosebumps form on her arms, she knew he was standing there but she didn’t move a muscle.  Normally, people would move when the person who wanted them dead stood there.  But she didn’t.  She decided to go ahead and trust him, the man, one who used to trust and have faith in every word that she said.  A part of him even believed there might be a future friendship, but no – lies.  It’s all she told and he couldn’t help the impulse. 

At times he found himself feeling like he was in a trance – she was the witch.  He needed to get away and he’d known it all along but that part, the single part that believed everyone had good, trusted her way too much.  Now he finds himself in trouble – a bleak predicament that he didn’t see himself getting out of anytime soon.  Doing her bidding because she was too afraid to do it on her own.  He laughed inwardly, still silent – the crazy part of him didn’t want her to have any satisfaction with any mood he may, or may not be in.

Right now he was angry.  He has been for a while.  But he…
A knock at the door stole his attention.  He sighed – it had been so long since he was able to sit and just write, even if he didn’t feel as if the words would take him anywhere – that it felt nice.  His fingers sliding across the keyboard clicking the letters and watching as they print themselves onto the beautiful white paper.  He stood up and made his way over to the door – he opened it revealing a large Mexican man, his name tag read Jorge, holding a tray of food.  He handed Zaire the tray, nodded, and turned – walking away.  Zaire knew this is the part of day he should be excited – who doesn’t get excited over food?  But for him, this was about as good as receiving a large box of snakes screaming your name.

He chuckled to himself, a box of snakes might be better.

He placed the tray of food on his bed and sat down beside it.  The best looking part was the roll and butter.  He wasn’t sure what the rest was – it kind of resembled what his mother would call goulash – but since it was all he could have for the rest of the evening he decided to just be grateful she fed him anything and ate it without complaints.  The sweat tea, however, was a welcomed gift.  He sometimes found himself wishing he got it more often.  But she – she as in Quinn – would only give him water to drink throughout the day leaving the sweat tea for meals only.

 

 

12:00 AM flashed on the clock that hung on the wall above the desk.  Zaire wasn’t asleep, he instead was rolled into a ball in the farthest corner of his bed – he felt like he was sixteen again after watching a scary movie and couldn’t sleep.  He couldn’t shut his mind off, finally understanding how women felt when they just sat up until odd hours of the night just thinking about everything – his main thought was of course – is there a way out of there?

He could pull a scary movie stunt and start screaming while looking through the window, even though it’s closed and locked – knowing no one can hear him.  He could attempt to run – he has found the front door – it should be too hard to open it.  He could attempt to overpower someone or something or…

Zaire took a deep breath and felt defeated. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make a break for it through the front door because it is logically locked and would need a key.  He also realizes that there is no way he could overpower anyone in this place to get a key to one of the doors.  He may not be a rocket scientist, but he’s not completely dense.  He knows he is stuck here to wait for Quinn to decide what she really wants him for.  He figures if it is to actually kill an evil dictator, he will soon die anyway.

But tonight he has decided he’s too tired to fight or care.  His body feels like it has been ran over by a semi-truck and then tied to an anchor and sent to the depths of the ocean.  Tonight – he has given in to his fate of death – and is accepting it is what it is.

Tomorrow, he might feel different.

 

Breakfast is just as bad as dinner possibly worse since they decide to make gravy which looks a lot like grits.  At first he thought it was grits until he realized it was slathered over biscuits.  Everything is bland unless he finally just lost his taste buds.  He was told once it might happen but he knew he needed to eat to survive, so he did.

Once finished, like he does every day, he picked up his dirty dishes and made his way to the door.  Opening it he came nose to nose with Quinn.  His face fell, he flipped the tray toward her, shut the door and walked away.  No part of him ever wanted to look at her again and knowing that she was there meant she was going to explain herself – he didn’t want to hear anything she had to say.

The door opened, Quinn let herself in, “That was extremely childish.”

Zaire laughed, “Me… Being childish?  You have nerve to come in here and tell me that.”

“You know you’re going to have to forgive me, especially when you start your mission.”

He shook his head, “I don’t want a mission.  I want to go home and die – alone.  But you’re making this really hard for me.”

“I’m not making it hard, I’m just trying to get you to understand that you’re meant for more.”

“Who says?  You?  You did all of this.  It’s not like God dropped down to my door step and explained to me that there was an evil guy who needed to die.  Do I look like someone who goes around killing people willy nilly?”

“Zaire, this is why I picked you.”

His anger was building but he knew there was no point in being this angry.  There was nothing he could do about it – she wasn’t going to let him go.  He wouldn’t be able to get out so he might as well just accept it.  He took a deep breath and stared at her with an emotionless look.

“Then do tell, Quin…”  His voice was dry.  “What exactly do you want me to do?”

Quinn paced the floor, “I need you to dispose of Josef Aguilar.”

He rubbed his face.  “I’m not sure I recognize the name.”

“You wouldn’t, he’s nameless; faceless, right now.  But if we don’t do something quick he’s going to be all over everything and that’s not a good idea.”

“Let me guess, you got your information from a gopher.”

She sighed, “No, and please take this serious, I know this because he’s my Uncle.”

He went to say something but stopped leaving his mouth open a tad.  He wasn’t sure how to take this.  She wants him to kill her Uncle.

“Yes, Zaire, I want you to kill my Uncle.”

“But why?  Why would you want me to kill your family member?”

Quinn took a seat on the bed and patted the spot next to him for him to sit, never taking her eyes off of the floor.  “He has plans that are going to hurt many people and I feel as if I have to stop him.”

“Okay, so why do you need me?”

“When I first met you, Zaire, I thought you were him.  I have never seen someone look so much like him that I almost called you Josef until I heard you talk.  That’s when I realized you wasn’t him and I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“Where did you first meet me?  You said you’re the reason I’m sick – so where did you find me to get me sick?”

Quinn shrugged, “You went to Taco Bell one night to get a very late dinner.  I was sitting in the parking lot in my car.  When I saw you I got out and followed you because of the resemblance.  But when you ordered your food you sounded nothing like my Uncle.  So I left.  Once at home, even while I slept, all I could do was think about you.  I figured if anyone could bring him down it’d be someone who looks a lot like him.”

“So that night, at home when you were lying in bed, you just decided to make me sick so when you brought it up I’d feel… what?  Like I was obligated to do something heroic since I don’t have much of a life left?”

“Not exactly the thoughts I had.”  Quinn reached in her pocket and pulled out a cell phone – clicked a couple buttons and pulled up a webpage.  She turned the phone toward him and showed him his Facebook page.  “When I couldn’t go to sleep that first night I looked you up.  It wasn’t hard to get your name since it’s such a small town.  I noticed you were a writer in a slump, I figured you could write about this adventure.  That’s why I have so many writing things in here.”

“So you stalked me?”

She shrugged, “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“So how much of what you told me was true?”

Quinn licked her lips and made a face, “I knew you’d eventually ask me that.  Most of what I said is true.  The town doesn’t exist, both of my parents are alive, and I didn’t come from California.  I was actually born in Davenport and my parents live on the Northside.  My Uncle, Josef, actually lived in Davenport once himself, he was a teacher, but once he decided to take over the United States he had to go back to the mainland.  He needed people and many at that.”

“You haven’t told me his plans yet.”

“When he left Davenport he found a group of people that believe like he does.  They have all agreed that one day he’s going to dress up like a plumber and drive to the White House.  Go in pretending to be a plumber and make everyone sick – put them to sleep, if you will.  Once everyone is out him and his men are going to break in, tie everyone up, and drag them to the basement.”

Zaire starts laughing, “I’m sorry for laughing, but that is the dumbest idea I have ever heard.  He’ll never be able to pull anything like that off.  There are way too many people in there and I’m pretty sure not everyone drinks tap water.  I personally don’t have to kill him, he’ll kill himself when he tries – which is when?  Do you know that information?”

“Next Thursday.  Josef is smarter than you think.”

“I don’t want to do this, you do realize this, correct?  I don’t think I have a murderous bone in my body anywhere.  The fact that you’re asking me to kill someone shows you didn’t stalk me very well.”

“Fine!  If you cannot kill him then bring him to me.  That’s it, then you can leave, and be done with everything.  Can you at least do that?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Quinn stood up from the bed and walked over to the door.  She reached out and wrapped her hand around the door knob before stalling with her eyes on the floor, “We’re going to find out soon, very soon, Zaire, if you have what it takes to go get him and bring him to me.  I know you’re hesitant, but this is the only way I will be able to let you go.”

“Quinn, the other doors in this place.”  He stopped trying to get his thoughts together.

She turned the door knob to leave but pause in the door way and looked back at Zaire, “They didn’t do what I asked.”

 

 

 

 

 

Late July, Early August

When I was a kid there wasn’t much that excited me.  I was practically the definition of boredom in human form.  But there was one full proof way to excite me and it happened every single year.  Funnily enough, it still kind of excites me to this day &&& I have no reason to feel that way.

School supplies.

No.  Not the start of school or the first day.  I’m talking the supplies you buy before you start school.  Stepping into all the stores starting in mid-July and seeing all of the supplies in large boxes on displays – it was the thing I looked forward to all Summer.  While other kids, including my brother, were starting to get sad because  of the fact that we were beginning to wind down from the summer activities and start thinking about English papers, math tests, and science projects.

For me – I couldn’t wait to buy school supplies.

Every time we walked into Wal-Mart I would grab a school supply list and take it home and read it over and over – by the time my mom would take us for school supplies I would have probably had a hundred copies of one single piece of paper.

We’d always purchase our back packs a few weeks before the actual supplies along with a pair of shoes.  Oh how it took me forever to decide on those two single things.  I always wanted something colorful when it came to my back pack but I didn’t want it to be childish – even when everything in my life was childish.  &&& when it came to my new pair of shoes I always wanted a solid white pair but didn’t want to spend 30$ so I usually ended up with shoes I never actually liked.

Then came the day we’d go supply shopping.  Our mother would give us the list and we’d dive into the aisles and pick out the pencils, pens, highlighters, and erasers.  I was a big fan of Lisa Frank (Yes! I want to purchase one of their adult coloring books) when I was younger so most of my elementary & early middle school supplies involved her.  Oh, how I loved the brightly colored plastic trapper keepers they had.  >.<

After we finished shopping we’d go home and I’d dump all of my supplies into the floor forming a circle around me.  Tissues in one pile, pencils, pens, crayons, ruler, etc.  Then, starting with the boxes of tissues I would start packing my back pack.  Usually, I would get most of the things in to it before it filled up but I could never quite fit it all.  But trust me, I would try over &&& over before giving up and realizing that I would have to carry my tissues in a Wal-Mart.

Now the school I attended has a 25$ supply fee.  I wouldn’t have liked that one bit.

One of the hardest…

English in school whether it was middle school or high school had one thing in common.  At the beginning of the year we were told to buy a notebook and we usually all picked out the same black & white notebook with wide lines that costs a $0.97 cents at the local Wal-Mart.  (I actually have three of them in my bedroom right now.)  We, as students, knew exactly what it was for so we made sure to get the notebook with wide lines.  (When not for school, I never buy wide lines – the more the better for me.)  We’d start school and the teacher would explain that this notebook, this cheap white wide ruled notebook, was our notebook and every day we needed to write at least half of a page about anything and everything.  && everyone had the same reaction to it – the inability to write anything ever.  We all ended up waiting until the day before it was due and we would just scribble a bunch of crap.  I remember one year I sat and write “blah, blah, blah” over && over until I took up half of a page.  The teacher always said they’d never read it but you know they at least glanced through it &&& probably didn’t like seeing twenty to thirty pages of nothing but blah in very large print – one letter covering three lines, it was almost as if I had just started writing again.

I think back on it now && find it quite hilarious that I had such a hard time writing in that ‘journal’.  Even when I hit college I found it hard to write in a journal – yes, in one of my English Composition classes she wanted us to keep a journal (half a page in one notebook).  I ended up writing a short story instead, which it would seem that would be the harder part – but it took me twelve hours to write a full short story (which I have ruined since then).

I suppose through the years it hasn’t gotten any better, I still have trouble sometimes writing more than I ought to, but I’m not perfect so it’s not like I can cough and spit words out.  Although, that would be FANTASTIC if it were possible.  Because then – yes!  I could have thirteen novels ready to go.  But no, I can’t do that.  I have to type the words that are put to paper and sometimes my brain breaks.  Okay, my  brain breaks often, but no worries!  I may have issues sometimes writing, I’ll never give up on writing.

Just like cooking.

It’ll always be there.

I don’t think I stayed on topic.

Oh well!

The Cure : Part Three

My work gives out a monthly “newsletter” which includes jokes, job related notifications, and recipes.  I wanted to see if maybe she would like to add a monthly story (whether it was on going or many different short stories) and she loved the idea.  So every month I have been writing a few pages and I have been uploading them.  This month is the third installment.  If you just joined and haven’t read the first two you can find Part One & Part Two.  I hope you like it & enjoy reading it.

***********

          The water bounced the boat back and forth, side to side, waking Zaire slightly.  His head was groggy as he looked around and saw nothing but water.  His stomach rumbled as his eyes spun around trying to take in the scenery without puking all over Quinn.
Quinn laughed, “I can see now why you stray away from boats.”
He scratched his nose, “Why is that?”
“Since the moment you got onto this thing you’ve done nothing but either vomit or sleep.  That’s basically sea sickness.”
He snickered, “How would you know?  You don’t get seasick.”
Quinn repositioned herself on the boat, “You don’t know that, do you?”
He glared at Quinn just long enough until he felt his stomach churn and pushed his head over the side of the boat letting out his contents into the water below them.
Quinn smiled out into the ocean as she watched the wave’s splash into others forming a large layer of blue.  A light breeze blew across her skin forming goose pimples as excitement built up inside of her knowing that she’ll soon have everything she needs and wants.
Zaire smiled to himself as he watched her eyes twinkle in the sunlight and wanted to take note of how wonderful everything was.  He unzipped a small messenger bag and pulled out a medium sized notebook, flipped it open and began scribbling in his horrible handwriting.  He may not write much, but when he does he feels like he’s on a million types of drugs and they are rushing through his veins and it becomes the most beautiful thing he’s ever written – even if to everyone else it is udder crud.
He stopped writing for a brief moment and looked up at Quinn who was staring daggers into his forehead.  “So, Quinn, tell me about your town.”
“First,” Quinn readjusted herself in the boat, “what are you writing?”
“Don’t sound so paranoid – You knew I was a writer and that I planned to document this trip.”
“Yes,” She shook her head, “I realize that, however, you never said you’d be writing about me.”
“Quinn, darling, you are a part of this trip.”  He shrugged, “Plus, if it wasn’t for you and all of your nagging I wouldn’t be here in the first place.  I would be at home, dying in my own bed with all of my belongings and a real bathroom.  But no, here I am floating across water to a destination I don’t know what it is or where it is.  So if nothing else, you owe me information about you and your town.”
“Sheesh, dude, you don’t have to be dramatic about it.  However, I do see your writer side sticking out.  I’ll tell you about anything you want to, I just have a request first.”
“What’s that?”  Zaire figured he couldn’t lose much else.
“No matter what you see when we get to the Island, you cannot freak out and leave.  You have to stay and help me – no matter what.”
He let the words sink in trying to figure out what would scare him off and why she was worried about him leaving so easily.  What was he walking into?  “I can only do my best.  So, you – tell me about you – The real Quinn.”
She took in his posture.  He sat straight with his left leg crossed over his right at the knee and had his notebook sitting gently only top of his thigh with his left hand gripping his pencil tightly.  His eyes, emotionless, staring at her – waiting for words to be said.  “I’m not sure what to say.  There honestly isn’t much about me.  I’m Quinn Fabre and I was born in Alaska to a great set of parents.  After their death I decided to take off not sure where I was going to end up.  I somehow managed to make it to Calypso, got a job, and rented a tiny house.”
“What made you end up in Calypso?”  Zaire scribbled the question on the next empty line of his notebook and looked up at Quinn for her to answer.
She chuckled to herself, “Wrong turn.  I was trying to get to San Francisco, I wanted to be a dancer, but somehow I ended up taking a wrong turn down a long road that took me over an ocean and you can’t quite turn around.  So I kept going and ended up there.  The town seemed nice when I finally stopped and asked someone where I was at.
The guy I spoke to said there was one house empty if I wanted to stay.  I looked around for a couple days sleeping in the only bed and breakfast they have and ended up not leaving.”
“What job did you find in such a small town?”
“The town is known for grain – so I basically just took the only job the grain factory had – receptionist.  I liked it a lot and didn’t see why I hadn’t gotten lost years before.  I sat at a desk that was mine answering phone calls, taking orders on computers, and making sure everyone got their paychecks.”
“A grain town, huh – is that how everyone got the sickness?”
She shrugged, “That’s what they are thinking but I wasn’t there so I honestly have no idea.  Plus, I’m not the doctor.”
“You seem to know a lot about this to not have been there or want the cure for yourself.”
“So you’re saying that a person cannot want to help other people?”  Anger began to build and she began to speak quicker, “They took me in when I had nowhere else to go.  I owe a lot to the people of that town.”
“Woah, dang girl, calm down.  I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that…”  He sighed, “Let’s continue with your story.”
“I never saw myself leaving the grain factory until I received a call from my mother.  She said my dad was sick and wasn’t going to last much longer so she asked if I might come home for a while.  Basically to say good-bye and I love him, so I did and I was gone a while. “
Zaire scribbled words in his notebook attempting to keep all the important information together.  “When you got back to Calypso, everyone was sick?”
“Basically – a few hadn’t gotten sickly, but yes, they were.”  She sighed to herself and drifted off with memories.  “I can still remember the children and the elderly.  The ones around our age could get around fine and still go to work when I got back but the children and the elderly.”
He saw a twinkle underneath her eye and realized she was about to cry, “You don’t have to tell me anymore about that if you don’t want to.”
“No…” She trailed off waving her hand in the air in front of her face, “I just really want to find the cure.”
“Trust me, so do I – but a part of me feels as if you feel responsible for their illness and you cannot live like that.  You need to realize that if you had been there you couldn’t have stopped it from happening but you’d be just as sick as everyone else.  You should feel lucky.”
She glanced at his hand that now rested gently on her shoulder.  She hadn’t noticed when he moved closer, almost ninja-like.  She couldn’t remember the last time, since her dad’s funeral, where someone wanted to comfort her.  Felt the need to make sure she was okay before running off to their busy day.  Of course, however, she knows he cannot really leave – unless he can swim, and the vibe she gets, he can’t – but it seems as if he cares, nonetheless.
“I have tried to look from that perspective, but I can’t.  I honestly feel as if I had been there we wouldn’t have gotten that shipment of grain and I could have stopped it.  They even said the shipment looked funny but yet they accepted it anyway and made so much bread.  There is no telling how many people have it and I feel as if it’s my fault.”  Tears inched down her cheeks, “I shouldn’t have left and went to my parents’ house.  How will I live without myself if I don’t find this cure?”
“Quinn this isn’t your fault – because in that sense me being sick is your fault.”
“How do you figure?”  Quinn whipped the tears away with the back of her hand.
Zaire shrugged, “Because the bread that I consumed that made me sick was from Calypso.”
Her eyes widened, “What?”
“But,” He stopped and lifted his hand in the air to stop her, “I don’t blame you because YOU had nothing to do with it.  You’re an innocent bystander who wasn’t even in Calypso when it happened.”
She decided to stay quiet and just not comment anymore.  She had her feelings for all of this and knew he’d never understand.  Sitting here and word-fighting with him isn’t going to get her anywhere.  She knew exactly what she needed to do and how to do it, whether he was on board with it or not.
He shook his head and maneuvered himself back to his side of the boat and stared at Quinn for a couple minutes before the boat hit something and jerked him forcing him into the bottom of the boat.
Quinn jumped up cheering, a large smile plastered across her ordinary looking face, “Finally! Yes!  We are here!”
He sat up, happy that they are finally off the water, and looked around.  His eyes grew large as he scanned the island and slowly his lips parted and his jaw dropped.  His words came out a lot slower than he thought they would have, “Whaaaaaaat thhhhhuuuuuuuhhhh….”
“You promise,” Quinn pointed her finger in his face, “You promised me that no matter what you saw you wouldn’t abandon me in this journey.”
“But…”  His eyes watered from all of the electricity that was bouncing through the air from one tesla coil to the next.  He counted mentally the number of tesla coil’s that lined this island – he counted approximately thirty-two and all he saw was bright lights of lightning flashing around him.  “How do you expect us to walk through that?”
Quinn laughed to herself, “We’re going to shut it off, duh!”
“How do you expect us to do that?”
“There is always a shut off to anything that works, we just have to find it.  Using common sense, which I don’t have much of but I have some, I can pretty much promise you it’s on the outside.”
His mind began playing scenarios over and over of things that could or might happen.  His one thought surrounded one thing – he knew one thing for sure – the Tesla Coils were set up to keep people out or to keep something in.  He heart pounded in his chest and felt the need to vomit.  He looked around and Quinn had disappeared and in that moment he knew something bad had happened.
“Quinn?”  The words were loud and shaky.  “Quinn!”  His voice was even louder than it was.  His heart began to pound, normally, he thought, someone would have said something with the second yell.  His head swung back and forth trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything as his mouth dried up.  His nervous tick began something he’s hated all of his life, and dropped his messenger bag onto the ground.  He rubbed his face with his fingertips trying to control the facial tick that made the left side of his mouth lift along with his eye blinking.
He turned on his heels and sprinted back to where he remembered Quinn tying up the boat.  He stood there at the edge of the island and felt his heart fall.  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing – she left him there.  Alone.

          The hours passed slowly almost feeling like days.  The sun was hot on his skin while he sat on his bottom in the tiny sand beach.  He knew that he was more than likely already sunburned – his pasty white skin doesn’t hold up well to the UV Rays.  That’s one thing he knows for sure – he has always been an inside person.
He inched his whole hand into the sand wiggling it side to side as he anger flared within him.  He knew she wasn’t going to come back, but he also knew if he was to ever see her again he planned to rip her head off her shoulders.  Not that he would actually do it but the urge was there.  He has and never will be a violent person.
He shook his head and grunted inwardly.  Sitting here isn’t going to help anyone or anything, but what could he possibly do?  Try and swim back home and hope he doesn’t get eaten by some form of large fish that may be swimming within the waters?  Even if that sounded like half of a decent plan, he had no idea which direction was home or how far it was.  He knew they had traveled by a small boat with a motor and it seemed to be approximately one in the afternoon when they arrived after leaving a quarter to nine in the morning.
He decided to walk around Tesla Island, since it didn’t seem very large to him, to see if maybe someone actually lived out here.  Looking at all of the coils, that were still slicing the sky with lightning bolts, he knew someone had to have put them up.  He stood up and began his walk, walking toward what he thought was North, looking up through trees and bright flashes of light.  He made a mental note of the fact that the coils made flashes of light that actually lit up the sky, even with the sun out.  It was partly mesmerizing to him.
His pace started out strong, moving quickly through the sand, his feet dragging slightly, but as the sun began to set his pace slowed to almost turtle-human speed.  His legs began to shake slightly as his body shivered from a cool breeze that came in from the water.  He stopped and looked around, exasperated, when he realized he had been walking all day and has yet to see anything that resembles any form of life.  He looked through the flashes and realized if someone does live on this island, they are going to be on the inside – in the middle of the lightning bolts that flew up and out.  He sighed but remembered what Quinn had said, there is always a shut off to anything that works, we just have to find it.  Using common sense, which I don’t have much of but I have some, I can pretty much promise you it’s on the outside.
Taking a deep breath he tried to remember, out of what he’s walked so far, did he see anything that looked anything remotely like an off switch or a lever.  All he seemed to remember was a bunch of tree’s that looked like they were about to attack him, and small bushes that were probably hiding tiny animals that wanted to eat human flesh.  He wasn’t really feeling the urge to be eaten by anything that is smaller than his foot.
He figured that since he hadn’t seen anything that looked remotely like an off switch while he walked – he would finish walking the rest of the way. He stood, stretched his leg muscles and began to walk finishing his way around the island.  He sighed when he realized how slow he was moving – he was hoping after his rest that he’d be able to do this quickly.  He looked out in front of him and noticed something that looked like a tall black brick wall.  He approached it with caution, just in case, and gently pushed the tree branch that was covering it to the side and saw a large button.  He stared at the button as if it were an animal about to attack.  Next to the button had an engraving in it that, to him, looked Latin and almost talked himself out of pressing it, but he knew this was the only thing he has found that looks like it would shut off the coils.
He shut his eyes tightly, counted to ten and prayed silently to himself.  Opening them quickly he pushed his hand forward and hit the button and braced for whatever was about to happen.  He heard a noise that sounded like a large rock was being moved and a zip-zap just in time for the coils to stop sparking and it was quiet except for a ticking noise that sounded like a food timer spinning.  That’s when he realized once it stops ticking the coils are going to turn back on.  He quickly looked around him and sprinted to the inside of the coils where he wouldn’t have to really worry about it.
As soon as he passed the coils and was standing on the inside the hum of the electricity began and thanked everything that he was finally on the inside.  But how, he thought to himself, will he get out?  He wouldn’t think about that right now though, because the only thing he wanted to think about was finding someone to help him get home.  That’s all he wanted more than anything was to just go home.

          He walked around for what felt like hours and in circles.  He passed a large oak three that he could swear he had passed multiple times.  Aggravation began sitting in, a feeling he was getting tired of, as he realized this isn’t working.  He could barely see what was around him or where he was going due to the fact that it was basically dark – the sun had set hours ago but he didn’t want to give up, he wanted to go home.  But he began realizing that he should probably find somewhere to rest for the evening and start up again in the morning – but where?
Zaire wasn’t sure if anything was really “safe” enough for him to just settle in and sleep so he figured he would walk back toward the coils, they should give off enough light where he could see around, or maybe he will find something with a top.
Once he was close to the coils he noticed a large opening that looked like a darkened cave.  He glanced around and realized this is where he entered into the coils.  On the other side of this cave is the button he pressed to turn off the coils so he began betting himself, since no one else was around, that the button to turn it off again is inside of this cave.  He decided, however, not to go too far into it looking for a button or lever to turn them off, the only thing on his mind at that moment was to sleep for a little bit.  Exhaustion finally hit him when he decided to settle in for the night, yawns coming every couple of minutes.
He cautiously entered the extremely dark cave and stopped just inside.  Not too far in but far enough in that if the clouds that were floating around above him decided to let go of its moisture, he wouldn’t get wet – that’s what he wanted from this.  He tossed his messenger bag to the ground, and stretched forcing a yawn to the service.  He rubbed his eyes and glanced around wanting to make a last ditch effort to see if someone, or something, was hiding in the dark shadows of this cave.  Not seeing anything, he went to squat, finally to lie down just and felt the ground began to shake.  His body tensed as he tried to keep his balance, but the shaking got worse, and attempting to keep his balance became harder and harder.  At times it felt as if he was trying to stand on a board that was sitting on top of a rubber ball.  He grabbed on to the sides of the cave and the sound of boulders forced his attention, he turned his head quickly to the left and saw the entrance close up.
His heart stopped, crap, he thought, I cannot get out.
The rumbling didn’t stop; his feet vibrating underneath making him do a small dance while he attempts to keep them in one spot.  His fingers grasped at the side of the wall but with one strong tremor his fingers slipped, and he lost his balance, and his body tumbled to the ground slamming the side of his head into a large rock.

          Zaire lifted his hand and touched the side of his head with as little pressure as he could muster.  His head pounded and all he wanted to do is cry – cry for his mother or father to come hold him – cry in a way he hasn’t cried since he was a tiny child after falling off of his bike and skinning his poor knee.  Of course, though, he’d never admit that he wanted to cry even if someone could prove it.
His whole face hurt – a pain he couldn’t remember having before.  His mouth was parted and he slowly opened his eyes not wanting to scare his pupils with a light that was so bright he could feel it to his bones.  As he let the light enter his eyes he realized he was no longer in the cave where he was but instead he sat in a wooden chair with no arm rests in a large white empty room.  The only other thing besides him in it was a large wooden desk, papers covering the top, with a chair turned backwards.  Fear was prominent in his mind, mostly from wanting answers, and then he tried to stand.  He grunted as he felt himself fall backwards and hit his bottom on the chair.  He looked down at his legs…
“Why are my legs tied together?”  He asked into thin air knowing he wouldn’t get a response.
“Because Zaire, I don’t need you trying to escape.”
He knew that voice, or a part of that voice – he couldn’t place it.  “Where am I?  How did I get here?”  His words came out in a hurry.
The chair at the large desk turned around toward him, “I brought you here.”
“But why – I don’t even know where this is.”
“In time my dear, all the answers will be unraveled.”
Zaire blinked a couple times attempting to focus on the figure that was sitting at the desk looking at him.  When the cloudiness cleared he realized why he knew that voice.  “Quinn?  Why did you leave me on the island alone?”
“Because Zaire, I needed you to get here on your own.  I needed to make sure you were the one I needed to find.”
“What?  We were on a journey to find a cure for the illness we have.  What are you talking about with all of this we needed to find?”
Quinn stood up not looking like the girl she was when he first met him.  In town, when they first met, her clothes seemed drabby – dirty discolored khaki slacks with a long sleeve white shirt and a dirty old grandmother sweater draped over her that had to have been four sizes too large. Now, standing in front of the desk she is cleaned up.  Her hair is pulled back into a nicely composed pony tail, a calf length pinstriped skirt, a form fitting button up long sleeve white shirt and a pair of black stilettos.  A part of his man self was briefly attracted to her until he realized that she had him tied to a chair and actually had been stalking him.
He glared at her, “How long had you been stalking me?”
She chuckled to herself, “How long have you been sick?”
“Wait – what?”
“You didn’t get sick off of bread from Calypso and the whole town isn’t sick.  In fact, last time I was there everyone looked pretty healthy if you ask me.”  She took a couple steps around the desk to the front of it and seductively sat on the edge and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“But why,” Zaire shook his head, “You still haven’t explained to me why.”
Her face relaxed and she moistened her lips with her tongue, “You were chosen for this and I had to make sure you could handle what we needed.”
He lifted an eyebrow, “Chosen for what?”
She tilted her head to the left and looked him up and down, “For the mission of your life.”
He chuckled, “My life?  Psh, thanks to you I don’t have much of a life left.”
“That’s exactly why I had to poison you – you wouldn’t say yes if you had a full life ahead of you.”
“So what is so important for me to do that you have to kill me to do?”
She straightened herself and dropped her arms, “You, Zaire, are going to kill the evil dictator.”
He blinked a few times before responding, “What evil dictator?”
Quinn took a couple steps toward him and ran her finger down the side of his face.  “You’re going to kill the evil dictator that shares a very, very strong resemblance to you.”
He jerked his face away from her touch, “What if I say no?”
“Then I kill you now.