There is something odd about Chrissy. Everyone knows it, they can feel it, can see it. The only problem is they can’t exactly put their finger on it, explain why they feel it, explain what it off, they just know that it is, that there is something. One day she’ll come in all smiles, laughing and singing. Then next day she is sulking and sad, looking at people in a way that made even the adults shiver. Then she’ll be her happy self again. Most said, at least at first that she had depression and that these moments of a sudden change in character was a bout of depression. It was more than that though. It was a feeling around them, all the happiness seemed to be drawn away at times, others all sadness. Times people would feel fearless around her, at others they would be barely able to move for fright. Well Timmy was going to figure it out, he was going to solve this mystery. He knew that there was something, and we was going to figure it out. He packed his camera and radio to class, and he was going to follow her from school. He had been doing it for a few weeks, and he started to notice that whenever she went into the forest she would change, so whatever happened in there, that was the answer, and he knew, he didn’t know how he knew, but he did, that today would be the day, the day she would go into the forest. He followed a ways behind her, not wanting to be seen, but really he needn’t worry really, she seemed far to absorbed in what she was doing, she walked through the forest, following a warm path, and it was barely visible, and if he wasn’t following her Tim wouldn’t be able to make it this far into the forest, and her probably get lost, though really he probably was lost anyway, he really didn’t know where he was, or how to get out of here. He really could only do one thing, and that was to keep going, keep following her, seeing where she is going. Eventually she stops and looks around. She seems nervous, and she shivers a little. Tim feels the temperature drop, and fog starts to roll in. It’s very dark by now, the only light comes from the moon and stars, though it is obscured by the canopy. Just when Tim is about to come clean, and ask for help finding his my back, he sees a shadow, tall and moving in a jerky unnatural movement, his breath catches in his chest. As it comes closer he can see the features better. Long black hair, a rasping wheezing breath. It looks like Sara, but darker, and the eyes…. Cold black eyes. She comes up to Sara and they seem to talk like friends, like they know one another, then the shadow looks in Tim’s direction, a bone chilling smile crosses her lips. “Closer…” the voice is raspy and cold. Tim is frozen in fear. He doesn’t move, then he sees the shadow touch Sara. And is pulled in, disappearing into the happy sweet girl. Sara turns and smiles, though her eyes seem cold, and more like the shadow’s she approches him, then as she stands in front of him a sudden coldness washes over Tim, and he feels like someone stands behind him. “You know it was foolish to come here…” The voice is cold, and almost seems distant, not quite Sara’s “But we are glad that you came here. That you followed her. It means that your shadow self… your other can join me in this realm, just like Sara. You can come out now and then too… but it may take time… after all you’ve had years to get used to this realm, and you’ll need time to get used to ours” He didn’t have time to ask questions to figure out what it all meant. A sudden coldness washes over him, and he is plunging into a dark abyss, the last thing he heard was a cold laugh, chilling him to the core. The next day people at school noticed it, and started talking about it. There was something about Tim now… he was different. He was more rude, and would laugh at misfortune. He seemed to have more of a temper now, and would avoid the things he used to love. And it seems that he hangs out with Sara more, and when together they seem to whisper more… but nobody really understands what they say, and most chilling of all, is their eyes. They seem cold, and pierce you to the core.

I groan out loud. I’ve been sitting here at this desk for hours. At least that’s what it feels like. Trying to write, trying to think of something to write about, something to get the creative juices flowing again, but nothing comes to mind. I can think of nothing. I look over in my armchair, dosing by the fire is my loyal cat. I ponder about her, what her life is like, what she does all day. I smile a little. I dip My pen in the ink bottle, setting it to the paper, a little ink dribbles there as I slowly write. I hum a little, looking at the words. Then I pause. Looking over at the dozing cat she stirs a little, and when she sees me watching her gives a little meow, and I can’t help but remember why I had to rescue her. I lean over to pet her, feeling the silky soft warm fur. She purrs for a bit then, when she’s had enough pets nips my hand, batting it away. I look at the paper and start to write once more, writing about the softest, warmest blanket, one that gives instant and complete comfort to anyone who wears it. That changes to a great treasure, the pen seems to dance across the page, ink now and then splatters fine drops of black ink. The inspiration flows, the small drops of ink that splatter do nothing to slow me down. I look back at her, she kneads dough, her claws come out and retract, she looks at me, sees me watching her and gives a great yawn, opening her mouth wide, revealing her sharp teeth. My mind shifts to a fierce predator, hunting her prey. My pen moves slower this time, the scratching sound clearer. More pronounced. She purrs again, curling up a little to doze back to sleep. I yawn and look over at the clock. I check the time again, how did it get so late so soon? I put the pen and ink away. And covering the pages so they don’t get damaged by the cat, who has a habit of destroying paper. I pet her gently before walking out of the office. A dull thud and soft meow tells me that she’s following me to bed. I turn the lights out as I leave the room, shutting the door behind us. I move slowly to the bedroom, bed after changing climb into bed, and soon feel her jump up too. I pet her and after telling her goodnight. Tun out the lights. Tired, though glad that I have such a well of inspiration.

Dear diary, I have received the worst news. Though it is not unexpected. I have been feeling terrible for weeks, and now I know why, and I wish I could say it is a comfort… I still hate the news. I am dying, and sooner than is fair. I am sick, and the doctors can do nothing for me. I have thought a long time before writing my thoughts down, thinking what I can say, what I should say. What do you do or say when you know that you are dying? I guess you could say it was a good life. That you… that is to say I lived life to the fullest, and have no regrets. But that is untrue. I did life a good life, though not to it’s fullest, and I have plenty of regret. But I was kind, and cared for others. I did what I wanted, and though I made plenty of mistakes. I don’t know if I’d really change anything. Perhaps I would date more, have more fun, not let nerves get the best of me, to be more bold and daring. To take school more seriously and get things done quicker… but really that is contrary to each other. Then I guess you’d give advice to those who may read in the future… though really that’s lame, I’ve always thought so. Let them live their lives, and let others live theirs, be excellent to each other. And be happy.

Sarah and Jenny had traveled all over the content. They had seen all the great wonders of the world. From old statues of great men. To temples build by long dead hands. They had seen the saintly, the profane, to the secular. They had seen everything... except Montre Gorelle. It was once a shrine to the earth goddess, and had long fallen out of use. Though stories of its use still floated around, the odd thing was... nobody was really sure where exactly it was or how to get to it. Those who have been there, or at least that claim to have been there generally agree that is, or rather was in the mountains, surrounded by trees, apart from a small clearing. After all Montre means mountain, as for Gorelle, no one is really sure, though many think it means god, or goddess in the forgotten language of the priests.
The pair had decided that Gaia mountains would be a good place to start, after all they were poorly mapped, and Gaia was an earth goddess. So here they stood. The base of one of the tallest peaks. It would be a long hard hike, the fog clung to peak, a fine misty rain drizzled, they sighed, and looking at each other started to climb the peak. It was slow going, they had to be carful as the rocks were growing slippery, and several times Sarah tripped, or Jenny would slip, and barely catch herself from falling several feet. In the end they decided to camp earlier than either of them really wanted to, but the rain was really coming down now, and they were both soaked through, better to be cold and turn in early then hurt or dead. They set up camp, and as they were unable to light a fire ate jerky and dried fruit for supper and turned into bed early. The rain hitting the tent all night. They both woke early, cold and stiff, neither sleeping well at all. In the morning the woke up with the sun. The warm rays hitting the mountain, lighting the mountain forest as the light shine through the leaves and the branches. The packed their things after a dismal breakfast and set out again. Moving slow, climbing higher and higher. They were on the look out, from the descriptions of those who claim to have been there, and the partial records it was high up, “among the clouds, in a clearing surrounded by forest”. Well they certainly were high enough to be considered ‘among the clouds’ but the forest was as dense as ever, with no sign of clearing or thinning in the slightest. Then, about when they were to stop for lunch, they saw what seemed to be a patch of ground, free of trees, they could see this as the sun shone brighter than all around them. The didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to get their hopes up. Still they moved quicker, almost running. Then, they burst from the forest into a clearing, and stoped. Their mouths open wide. It stood there, beautiful white marble, high tower with what was once a bronze roof, now a dull green, though still beautiful. It doesn’t even seem to be abandoned, the only sign it could possible that it’s no longer used is the trees nearest it are unkempt, and vines start to creep up on the walls. They beam at each other, they found it! It is as beautiful at the legends say. They smile at each other, and slowly make their way up to the doors. They are still as sturdy and look as if they had just been made. The whole building upon getting closer seems as if nothing is wrong, it looks pristine and even cared for. They push on the doors, and they open with a smooth clean motion. Inside candles light up and illuminate the inside of the temple. They walk all around the inside, taking in every inch. Once they had their fill of looking all over, they move to the alter and pray. And then they meditate, for hours they pray, or meditate, or simply marvel at the building. They would love to spend forever here. But they know they can’t they step outside, having decided that they really can’t stay any longer, and find that it has grown dark outside. They sigh, though they are happy, now they have an excuse to make camp and spend the night here. They have they best sleep of there lives. And even in the morning a great peaceful calm hangs over them. They pack, slower then normal and after turning to take one last glance at it, and making sure they know exactly where it is and how to get there start to head back home. Looking back they don’t know what happened to their map, or notes on where the shrine is. They made several more journeys o try and find it, though none were a success, despite being so confident that they were going the right way, that this is how to get there. In the end they had to admit defeat and that perhaps it was the shrine hiding itself, that it was a treat, a blessing that they were able to find it, and that it was meant to be hidden, a challenge to find it, and it’s not meant to be easy to find, and that’s what makes it so special when you do find it.

It happened so quickly, I was driving to work, it was an awful night, the rain was pouring down, the thunder and lightning only made the evening that much worse. Then, I saw it, a semi truck speeding towards me, its horn blaring, the lights blinding me, then a horrible crunch, pain then nothing. No thoughts, no feeling just an empty nothingness. I was dead, killed by a truck that had lost control. There is no point in feeling bad for me, it happens so people have good luck, others, well others don’t. I don’t know how long I was in this nothingness, but all I know is that when I woke up, I hurt, and barely could move, my muscles where still and protested my desire for them to move. I felt cramped, and the air was stale. I opened my eyes and saw only darkness, I reached out and my hands connected with something solid. “What the hell?” I hit what ever it is that’s in my way, and curse again, whatever it is, its solid. Slowly the memory of the truck coming at me creeps into my mind, I start to feel my surroundings, soft, and silky with some lace, I try to move, but I seem to be in a box, a coffin. I scream, crying out for help. How could this happen? How could they assume that I was dead, clearly I’m not! Or wasn’t if I don’t get out I may soon be dead for real this time. I start to pound the coffin lid, doing my best to ignore the pain and push through it. And soon, at least so it seemed I felt the lid give way, heard the loud crunching of the wood splintering, then felt the dirt come pouring in. I felt my heart pound in my chest, felt the pressure of six feet of dirt on top of me. I gather my thoughts, at least the best I could. I start to craw higher, moving the dirt. Climbing the best I can. I try to control how much dirt falls on top of me, I can’t let too much fall or I’ll be trapped. Trapped with now air. I move slowly but at a steady pace. Moving little by little. The ground seems to cool the higher I go, soon I think I can hear birds. Or at least something that is not dreadful silence. Then at last. Somehow, a miracle, my hands break through the surface of the ground, then my arms. Slowly. Delicately I pull myself from the ground, from my grave. I gasp for fresh clean air, soaking up the cool air. It’s dark out, all except for the moon, it lights up the cemetery, it’s creepy I’ve never been to a cemetery at night. I get up and start to walk around the graves. It’s a slow ambling walk, but I make progress to the gate. I need to go home, I need to leave. But deep down. In the back of my mind a quite voice, a worried voice says that something is wrong… very wrong. They don’t just burry people, and those same people don’t burst from their coffins then climb out of the grave. It I don’t want to think of that, or more of I don’t want to think about what that can mean, or all the terrible possibilities that could lead to. So I push it back and not worry about it for now, right now I need to find a way out. Find my way out then home.

I woke up, tired and still groggy the alarm screaming into my ears. I reach for it, slapping the off button and, sitting up turn the lamp on. Warm light fills the small room and after contemplating going right back to bed, stand up and stretch my back, and wipe the sleep from my eyes. After a few more moments I walk over to the closet, the cool floor on my feet help to wake me up. I pick out my clothes, tan loose fitting slacks, a white shirt and tie, and to finish it off, a brown vest. Heading downstairs I brew some tea and after getting some cold cereal head to the table, though I see a rolled up piece of ancient looking paper, tied up with a sting. A note is attached. I stare at it, unsure of what to do or how they got here, though curiosity got the better of me. I figure that the best thing to do is read the card first. “My dear sir, I know how you thirst for something more, how you want something more” I pause, whoever gave me this doesn’t seem to know me all that well, I like the comfortable and familiar, not for adventure, and sure I may hunger for more, but usually its more delicious food. but I decide to continue reading. “This map will provide just that, it will lead to adventure, and a great prize at the end, I hope you enjoy the journey and put this map to good use, and to help it fulfill its purpose.” I stare at the words, reading and rereading them. This is a joke right? This can’t be real… can it? I muse over the words, ‘lead me to adventure…’ do I want adventure? And what would be at the end? What would it all lead to? I eat the rest of my breakfast trying not to think too much about the map or the note. And before I really know it I am driving to work, though for some strange reason I brought the map, as if I couldn’t leave home without it. I know its silly, but I had to bring it.
It was the hardest day of work ever, my mind kept drifting back to the map, and what could be on it, what secrets it holds, and what it will lead to. When it is finally over I rush out, and head straight to my car and rush to a park, some place that I can look at at the map, I unroll it carefully and unroll it, my heart pounding, and nothing, there is nothing on it. I shake my head, how could I be so stupid? Be roped into such a silly idea? I toss it onto my passenger seat, looking out the window, disappointed in myself, and maybe to a degree that the map wasn’t real, that it was all some strange and pointless joke. I get ready to leave, ready to head home and go to bed, I glance over at the map, I don’t know why, maybe I wanted to disappoint myself again, or maybe I something told me to. But I glance at it. I see that what was once empty parchment now has lines, and writing all over it. It look like the town, at least in the center. Lines lead all over the place, fanning out in all directions from here. My heart seems to skip a beat, and I actually start to get really rather excited about it. I look, closer, really inspecting the map, and where all the routes seem to head to. One looks like it goes deep into the forest. Normally I wouldn’t go anywhere near there, at least not without planning and making all sorts of preparations for it. But that doesn’t seem right, at least not today… not this time. With that, still not really understanding why I am doing it, head for the forest, its a short drive, but just like the work day it seems to go on for ever, but I do get to a good spot to park the car and head towards the forest trail, following it until the map seems to indicate that I should leave the trail, heading off another way. I Pause, looking at the map for several minutes, then looking at the trail, I really shouldn’t leave the trail I could get lost… but I do have a map. I smile and take a step off the trail, heading the direction the the map leads me. its hard slow going, after all there isn’t a path, and the trees seem to be growthing thicker and denser now, what’s worse is that its growing steadily darker and harder to see. A nagging voice speaks up in the back of my mind. ‘You fool! Now you’ve done it. You’ve gotten yourself lost, and what’s worse is its getting dark!’ That’s true. Now I dint know what to do. But then an idea comes to be. I have a phone with a light, just go a little further, just a bit more, whatever I am supposed to find is near, I just need to take a few more steps. I turn on the flashlight, the beam of light struck a the ground, lighting my way. Ten more steps? I keep walking. I should be here. I look around and sigh, shaking my head I look up at the stars. They are beautiful. The darkness may be all around me, and the night air is cold. But I feel calm, I feel at peace. I would have liked to find whatever this map was supposed to lead me to but, it was worth it coming out here, maybe I’ll come back and camp? I laugh to myself. I can’t believe I’m thinking that, or that I really want to. I decide to look a little harder, despite the fact that it’s now pitch black outside the flashlights beam. But then I find it, a small box. I grab it and open it, inside is a small note. “Ah good, you found me. Though I must confess it was a bit of a lie saying the map would lead to adventure… even if it rings with a little truth… see it was to give you a taste of adventure. So that you will make your own. Now… now go out for your own adventure” Smiling I nod. I will!

I stepped onto the beach, and looked around. It seemed to be abandoned, the small secluded island stood in the sea, the waves of high tide slowly coming higher on the beach. The waves lapping at my heels. I take a breath and look up on the peak. The sanctuary looking like it’s starting to fall apart. I need to climb higher, most of this island will be submerged when high tide is in. And as my ride off the island won’t be here until the morning… I have little choice. I press on, climbing up into the mountains region, all the while keeping my eyes on that ancient looking building, almost looks like a temple. The water creeps up the beach, I look back, and sigh. There’s no going back to the beach, not tonight

I stare at the wall, the many small wooden cases, filled with spoons. Some are commemorative, others show the many travels the collector has been on, but my favorite is a plain spoon, dull patches are setting in, showing it’s age. My great-grandma gave it to me before my first family trip. She collected spoons and wanted me to start collecting them, and get her one whenever I went anywhere. So when she died we both had a very large collection. And each one I love dearly, they all have a memory of her with them. A small one with a bell on top, meant to be the liberty bell. Another a crown, from the Tower of London. One with a monk… I paise as I look at it. I don’t remember. I smile to myself, I guess that happens when you have so many. I look over the collection. I don’t want to pack them up, I don’t want to leave this place, an irrational fear tells me I’ll lose them, I guess that’s why I find myself putting my favorite, my first one in my pocket, so I know that one is safe. So I know that one will never be lost.

Time flows, it always seems that is the case. Marching on towards an unknown end, so will we. Birth starts our journey upon a funny little hunk of rock making it’s way through space. Moving unending life, full of sorrow, joy, love, all shall be felt. Friends need meeting, families made, memories created. Unceasingly progressing onward winding into challenges though not stoped, or untarnished until finished, tired broken, laid for eternal rest. Slumber, peace, rest. Worm help nature reclaim us, return our bodies to that Mother Earth who breathed life into empty lungs filling, starting anew. Thus it starts over

Maria is gone, there’s no beating around that. She was in our lives, she made them better and brighter because of it, but now she is gone. It seems so easy to be sad. And for a time we will be. It will always hurt, there will always be an empty void where she once was. But we can’t live like that, we can’t wallow in the pain. Maria taught us to smile, to live like we had no worries, to live life to its fullest, to be the brightest shining star we could be. Life continues, an unending march moving through the good and the bad. We all have our challenges that we must overcome, that we can learn from so we can get better, so we can improve ourselves and other in the process. Maria stood for this, she believed it with all her heart and she would tell anyone she met, that life may be hard but it can still be a joy. Challenges will come she would say, they will come if we like them or not. So why not face them head in, face them, beat them and learn from them. Become better because of it. She wanted this for us, so let us live like that, not for Maria, but for us, though it will now be in honor of and in memory of our beloved Maria.