Why should I bother? he thought, eyes forward as the storm approached. The storm was a beautiful tragedy. Multiple twisters touched down on the desolate land. The sun was setting on the horizon, causing the dirt and sand to fill the twisters with a reddish coloring that almost looked like fire. 
He stood atop a small cliffside, around 100 feet drop if he fell. It wouldn’t have caused much damage if he jumped. Maybe if I jump when the storm arrives and headfirst, it might be able to end me in one quick strike. The ground around him was sun-dried and cracked. His stomach made a noise, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in a long time. 
Yes, this will be a good way to go. Maybe this will please them. The sun fell slowly beyond the horizon, darkness slowly swallowing the land. For a moment, though, it reflected something far off. A golden flash blinded him in the dim light for just a moment, and for an even shorter moment, the outline of a large building, unaffected by the twisters and the great winds of this dying land. How did I not see it before the storm? 
Curiosity overcame him, and he decided to investigate. First, he had to find shelter from the storm. Many were built in the last days of this world. Though he wasn’t here when it ended, his arrival is something new to this seemingly dead world. He had seen these storms and knew roughly how long it should take. It didn’t take long to find a shelter. 
The shelter felt like entering a crypt and smelled more like a morgue. The rancid smell of death filled his nostrils. He started breathing through his mouth. Whoever was here must have starved to death. It was dark, the darkness that made your eyes play tricks on you. He tapped his exposed wrist in a particular pattern, and the top of his forearm shone brightly. 
Squinting at the bright light, he made a fist, knuckles facing him, and pointed his brightened forearm away from him. Then, he began descending into the crypt-like shelter. He stepped slowly down the wooden stairs; it seemed to go down a long way. 
He was in no rush to get down there. He had plenty of time before the storm would let up. Based on the scent, he was confident he knew what he would find. The shelter had a dirt floor and four concrete walls. It seems a family lived there until they ran out of food.
Two of the corpses were adults; the other was that of a child. He shone his light around the small room. It had plumbing, with a single toilet and sink, both out in the open. He walked over and, feeling curious, tried to flush the toilet using the lever on the side. The bowl was dry, and no water flowed in at his jiggling of the lever. 
He had trouble estimating how long they had been dead; their bodies had decayed. There were no maggots or flies in the crypt that he could see. He didn’t bother searching for food or anything of use; he learned months ago that nothing remained. 
They had a bookshelf; many of its books had decayed, indicating they may have been here far longer than he realized. Two books had remained firm. The first he grabbed was the large book. The pages were thin and felt fragile upon touch, and he couldn’t read the language it was written in. Perhaps if I were still on the net, but well, that line of thought doesn’t help.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed something strange. One of the bodies hadn’t decayed at all. It was a man who appeared to be in his late 40s. His beard was longer than any he had seen before. It was dark in color with grey speckled throughout. He nudged the body, trying to awaken the man. His hand dropped a small chain necklace with a lowercase t. Curious, He grabbed it and wrapped the chain around his hand, eyeing the t. His pockets did not function, so he couldn’t store them there. He checked for a pulse, and the body was cold. He frowned and opened the other book. The other book, he could understand, having stored the local language in his memory. Upon reading the first page, he decided it was a personal journal. As he started putting it back on the shelf, he froze momentarily, a thought popping into his head. They die a second time if you don’t remember who they are, and this death is final. Let them live one last time. His shoulders slumped, his head drooped, and he audibly exhaled. Then, chastising himself, he opened the journal and began reading. He quickly skimmed through the pages from front to back, flipping them with his fingers and stopping on the final entry. He noticed it was dated on the top corner, opposite the binding on each page. It was Earth Standard, but they didn’t put a year in, so it is uncertain when it was written. This marks the first day. My family and I were unable to escape to the parish. However, this hole I was led to should provide safety. Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirt: now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen. April 16th Many early pages spoke of their struggles living there and their inability to leave. The person writing this seemed to believe that the building above collapsed into itself and closed off the entrance. The man paused his readings and looked up the stairs, realizing for the first time that this wasn’t simply a storm shelter, and this place had been from before the beginning of the end. It is impressive that any of this is still around. He took a deep breath and continued reading the journal, noting that all the pages had the same last line: Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen. It has been several weeks, and I have eaten scarcely and allowed my wife and daughter to eat what little there is. Is this the end of times? Or is it simply the end of this time and world? Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirt: now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen July 3rd We have run out of food. We will be joining Him soon. My beloved wife has already joined Him. My sweet daughter is looking ill. I feel as strong as ever. Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirt: now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen July 28th

God has granted me a miracle, and through His Grace, I could perform the miracle of making food. Glory to him! My body is yours, oh God, and my soul belongs to you. I have not needed to eat more than one time a week to feel fully fed! Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirt: now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen August 1st

This will be my final entry. My sweet child has passed from this world. She is now resting in His embrace and no longer in pain. My prayers have been answered, and I shall soon join them. My life has been in His service, and I will die in His service. I tried to leave again, but the doors to leave will not budge. I am sad not to see the light of God’s creation one last time in this body. I am, however, excited to be embraced by the One who died for me, the unworthy sinner. Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirt: now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen September 1st That was the last page; there were no names. They likely died of starvation. Why is the body not decayed like the rest? What does he mean he created food? He frowned and shook his head. At least now I can let the storm take me after seeing that strange building and have no guilt about this man and his family. They gave themselves a final death by not remembering who they were. He tapped on the side of his head, took a deep breath, and momentarily closed his eyes. He opened his eyes, shocked by how much time had passed. Then, he tapped it again. On his way out, he noticed more: intricate carvings on the wooden stairs and the fact that they were still sturdy. If his guess were correct, these stairs would have been hundreds of years old.
Upon leaving the shelter, he climbed back where he initially saw the building. He saw it off in the distance; it was dark like all at night but seemed to reflect the stars in a way he’d never seen another building do before. He began his journey, which he estimated would take him a few days to walk. The ground was dry and cracked. He wasn’t sure water existed on the planet anymore. He was infused with a trial run of CRA-9, so food and water weren’t necessities for him any longer. He still felt hungry and thirsty, but only for a time. The journey was longer than he had anticipated, and his mind wandered. He began to consider how he had ended up on this planet in the first place. The sun rose in the west and set in the east. Backward from what Earth was accustomed to, but he had seen all kinds. Ironically, never Earth, though. It's odd how we always compare other places to Earth; most of us have never been there. Escaping reavers ended him here. He wasn’t sure if the swift but painful death from the reavers would have been preferred to this he walked now. Of course, he wasn’t sure he could be killed any longer. The CRA-9 was supposed to heal all wounds rapidly without medical attention. He was in a cycle of hunger pains again with dehydration but could easily ignore it. His body was nearly as augmented as organic, so he didn’t need much food since taking this new serum. When he arrived at the building, it was grand and majestic. He wanted to enjoy it. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Buildings weren’t built like this anymore; they were bare when constructed, and with AR, you could make them what you wanted. He wasn’t on the net, so he stared dumbly, knowing this to be an actual building. It stood tall and proud, a barrier to the winds, a guardian of the land, a relic of a forgotten age and possibly forgotten people. He circled the building, taking it in, and a quick scan showed it to be around 419 feet tall, 220 feet wide, and 417 feet long. It appeared as if multiple buildings were attached to it, making it one massively beautiful structure. Each section had its domed roof, a total of 8 or maybe 9. It was hard to tell, as he couldn’t get an angle that would allow him to see enough of the top. Each domed peak of each roof seemed to be affixed with what appeared to be a lowercase t. He looked down at the necklace he still had wrapped around his hand, and it looked like a miniature version of those t’s at the tops. There were arches with pillars on all sides; each entrance had seven pillars with arched doorways. The back area was not an entrance but a full balcony with pillars and arches. It was approaching nightfall when he finished this self-appointed task of checking every building detail. It was a white marble on the outside, though the pillars were more gray than white, and each domed portion of the roof was golden but not likely composed of gold. He decided to wait until morning to view the rest. You can only experience art for the first time once; any time after that, while still beautiful, it isn’t experienced the same. He had no idea what to expect when he entered, but he had hope for the first time since he crashed into this apocalyptic death planet. No, before then, even before the company was the last time you had hope or excitement for anything. You can’t lie to yourself. He tried not to dwell on the time before. It didn’t matter anyway. The time to come is the only thing left. He started pacing, and in his self-recrimination, he didn’t even notice the winds beginning to pick up and a storm forming. A gust of wind suddenly and forcefully knocked him down. He looked up, finally noticing the storm upon him. His eyes widened, and as he stood up again, he was blown down. He continued in this manner, making no progress toward the door. When a damning thought occurred to him, is this what I deserve? A fleeting moment of purpose came back to me for the first time in several centuries, just to be taken. He lay on the ground, accepting the pummeling the wind gave him. Then, he stood up with a sudden and unexpected force of will. He began ambling towards the front doors of the building. The wind hitting him almost seemed to be screaming at him, trying to knock him down. Cuts began to open, one hand up to protect his eyes as best he could, the one bearing the necklace. The other rested across his chest to keep his loose-fitting clothes from beating him more than the wind was. The building wasn’t far, but somehow, this walk seemed hours, losing sight of it in the fight against the wind, which seemed bent upon his destruction, against his entry to this building. “YOU CAN HAVE ME WHEN I SEE WHAT IS INSIDE!” He bellowed in rage as if the wind could hear his defiant shouts, as if the wind cared enough to give him this. Then, everything went still. He stopped, stunned that it worked, and took a few deep breaths, allowing the wounds on his arms and face to heal. Then, he looked up, hoping to see the clear night sky, realizing with sudden horror that he was in the center of a fully formed twister. He ran, putting everything he could into running before the winds began in full again. He wasn’t fast enough. They immediately started hitting him. He was so close that the pillars were mere yards away. He pressed on. With each step, the wind hit him harder and harder, knocking him left, right, and left again. He continued onward. He was nearly there, within arm's reach of a pillar, when he lost his footing. He realized with shock that it wasn’t just his footing he lost; he lost the ground. The twister had picked up enough force to grab him from the ground. He cried out, spinning every way, not hitting anything but being hit by the wind. The wind howled triumphantly at his screams of dismay. "So, I die, hopeless in the end, unfulfilled." He closed his eyes and accepted his fate; the wind hesitated momentarily. He dropped several feet toward the ground, and once more, up and down, he noticed something as he spun through the air: one of the t-shaped objects at the top of the buildings. He reached out and grabbed it, and while it looked small, it was incredibly sturdy. He clung to it, burying his arm in the crux and having faith it would see him through this treacherous storm. The storm seemed to batter him down for a time, and he continued to hold to this t. Cuts opened on his body and immediately stung, becoming full of dirt and sand in the wind. Yet he held, and the winds eventually died. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the storm had passed or had disappeared entirely. His final wounds sealed, and he noticed that he was at the t on top of the highest of the domed roofs. The sun was up now. It was a sight to be up this high, but nothing was around. He couldn’t even make out the hole he had hid in days before. Then he looked down. I think I could survive this fall, but I don’t want to find out. A gentle wind seemed to blow, one that he thought was encouraging the idea. So, with no other prodding, he began his descent. He tried to control his fall, sliding down the side of the dome roof. He sped up as he slid, clawing the sides to slow the descent. He stopped abruptly, both feet hitting the ledge surrounding this dome. Unfortunately, his knees buckled, and he fell head-first off the building. He screamed as he fell, watching the ground approaching at a frightening speed. Is this how it ends? Survive the storm to die plummeting headfirst from over 400 feet up. He got hit by two strong gusts of wind, spinning his body, so he landed feet first. He broke every bone from his feet to his hips. It took an agonizingly long time to heal from it. He was worried the wild winds would attack him again. Foolish thought wind doesn’t have a mind of its own. He even began to laugh out loud about the idea, and more importantly, he survived the fall of 419 feet. He laughed again; fall felt like a 421-foot building. Wiping tears at his bad joke, he finally stood up. He had stiffness in his right hip and figured it would go away. He finally walked to the arches and touched one of the connecting pillars. He continued in and instantly noticed it was a quiet place. This wasn’t an ominous quiet; it was a peaceful quiet that didn’t want to be disturbed but was willing to make an exception. He felt calm radiate within him, a peace he had never felt in his life, then pulled the door open and limped in. None of the interior lighting worked, but light seemed to shine in this place anyway. Seeing was not tricky, and he did not need to squint to make out the majesty of this structure. It was a hallway on both sides and pillars connected by archways on each level it went up. The corridor led deeper into the building, and the roof had a dome shape, as he had seen from outside. It led to a larger area; the roof here was domed and ornamented by what appeared to be a mosaic. The archway leading into it, the mosaic depicted twelve people split evenly. The heads were pointed toward the center of the archway. Each of them appeared to be a person but also not. Nothing about them looked different from any person he had seen. They were done in a way that didn’t look like a normal person, leaving him unsettled, an almost otherworldly presence. He nearly laughed at the notion since he wasn’t from this planet but instead allowed a smirk on his face. Continuing not to disturb the peace in this place. Each figure had a blue background, and some words he didn’t understand were written beside them. All of them seemed to have a similar pose. A few differences included some holding onto the t, almost like he had. On either side of the twelve people was an ornately and beautifully made pattern, perhaps flowers, but they mirrored each other across the archway. The domed roof was a truly majestic piece of art. This was a half dome, and central to it was a person in a red robe with a shawl, perhaps a woman, over the top of their head. Cradling an infant, the infant lay on some slab, perhaps of stone, with what seemed to be an entrance to a cave behind. What appeared to be a horse and a cow behind them, overlooking the infant. A point from the top of the half dome seemed to point toward the child, a symbol akin to a star drawn in a circle between the child and the top. The infant had a circle behind its head, displaying something he once again couldn’t identify. It was letters, but he was uncertain what they meant. Above the cave entrance and to the left were what appeared to be men with wings sprouting from their backs, staring down upon the child as if in gratitude for the child's birth. Beside them were three men on horses, perhaps, and it seemed one was proffering a gift to the child. Below them were another three men. The middle seemed to be wearing a fur cloak, and to his left was a man with a walking stick. Both seemed to be trying to counsel the third man, who appeared thoughtful upon a rock. Sheep and a single horse were grazing. Above the cave entrance and to the right, another winged man was gesturing in a manner that appeared to be to get others to bear witness to this infant. A man and woman, perhaps married, looked upon the child in wonder, the man wearing a fur cloak and the woman a brown dress. A man, perhaps a minstrel, played what appeared to be a flute nearby, maybe a boy, and looked at the infant. Below them, a woman poured water into a container. Off to the right, it appeared the infant was being prepared for his first bath. A woman was holding him, perhaps his mother again. He knew, through no apparent signs told him, that this infant was a boy. He could be wrong, but somehow, he knew it was a boy. He stood in wonderment, staring in disbelief at the beauty before him. He began to weep, unsure if the tears were tears of joy or sorrow. He let them streak down his face and did not bother wiping them. He didn’t know how much time had passed before him, but he rose when he finished, and his last tear had dried upon his cheek. With a limp, he continued to view the majestic creation he had stumbled upon. However, nothing struck him nearly as magnificently as that first depiction. It was a strange occurrence, but somehow, he always knew, with no clear indication, who the infant was and his mother. From the depiction, he could tell this child was the focal point; he grew, he lived his life for a time, and then he was killed. He was familiar with the style of killing, known as crucifixion, and he had stumbled upon a few empires that used the method to deal with the most heinous of crimes. He wondered what the crime this man committed was. Though he died, it seemed death wasn’t enough to stop him. He continued to work after dying. He then ascended, perhaps. The iconography, somehow, he knew that was the proper term for it, depicted a hero who died for the world. He was born to and consigned to death, like all people, but his task was greater even than that. It was, unfortunately, not an adequate way to tell the story. He needed and wanted the details. He needed to understand further. He decided, then and there, to pursue this group and learn the story the

Never trust a survivor until you know what they did to survive. It’s a lesson I have been taught time and time again. Unfortunately, I am a bad learner. “Let’s get ready boys” Charles said “it’s time to get this job done.” “Hey Chuck I’m older than you. I ain’t no boy” Buck said. Charles just glared at him and said “Yeah well if you ain’t ready when it’s time to go we’re leaving you and taking your cut of the job.” Buck mumble something under his breath but continued to get ready, maybe he was going faster . This was a big job, but Chambers always picked Charles for the big jobs, since he has had a 100% success rate. Often times Charles is the only survivor though, meaning he gets a larger cut but so does Chambers.

“Okay evening is almost on us now. Does everyone remember the plan?” Charles said to the crew, about 6 of them counting Charles. “We wait for them to stop and move in over the cover of night. We wait for them to start fires and then hit them after they have gone to sleep, it’s simple chuck not sure why you keep saying it” Buck says as He shakes his had and chuckles to himself. Charles just glared at him, and thought “Why do I ever bring this man along with me.” Carlos, looked with that inquisitive look he often had. Wonder why he took the job barely being able to speak English Charles thought. Charles looking through the scope on his rifle said, “alright they are stoping so we should stop here and dismount, wait for the sun to get below the horizon and start moving on foot.” They all looked at him and nodded. “By my count there have 10 people, We are out numbered but we have the advantage of surprise. Do this right and everyone makes some money, do it wrong and you’ll be dead.” It sounded ruthless but Charles has no place for people who don’t do what they are suppose to, the west is a tough place to live and even tougher if you’re stupid.”

 As they all moved into position and the fires were lit the camp was already dead asleep, strange that. Doesn’t matter, he gave a Whistle that sounded similar to a whippoorwill to signify that it was time to move up, Buck was too big to be stealthy so he stayed at the perimeter to try and cut down anyone who may have wandered out for a piss. As they got closer to the camp they noticed it was way more dead than any of them expected because, there was no one here. They investigated the carriage and it was still full. This wasn’t how the job was suppose to go though. 


 Charles called for Buck to join the rest of them, but he didn’t respond. He told them all to be on high alert and sent Roscoe and Tom to go investigate and not to leave each other’s sides. So that just left Carlos, Sherman and Charles in the camp, Charles gathered the other two and saddled up the carriage to make off with the goods. Carlos and Sherman both voiced complaints that we were leaving the others and Charles simply responded “Do this right and we make some money do it wrong and you’ll be dead.” They both paled slightly realizing what he meant by that this time and that it meant the same thing earlier. 


 The three of them got on the carriage with Charles in the back, Carlos and Sherman up front. He never lets someone behind him if he can help it. Especially after threatening their lives, people don’t tend to trust you quite the same after you threatening them, or maybe they trust that you might just go through with the threat. Chambers won’t be thrilled though. We didn’t get the job done like we were instructed. These too poor saps won’t probably survive. Surviving is my curse, not theirs. 

  Not long after they left, they found themselves being pursued. Charles let the other two know to ready their 6-shooters, those were mighty fine enough guns but nothing compares to the fine shooting of a man with a rifle, sure they weren’t good close but that’s why you don’t let ‘‘em get close. He pulled up the scope looking out the back of the carriage and saw it was Buck, and he was covered in blood. “What the hell is this” Charles whispered under his breath. He tries lining up the shot, but the carriage is too bumpy. “Boys, slow it down, it’s to bumpy for me to take the shot” Charles ordered. They blessedly complied without any complaint. He lined up the shot, and pulls the trigger. 

  The bullet missed its mark though. Buck slowed down just as he pulled the trigger. “This is what happens when you bring someone on too many jobs.” Charles thinks to himself. “Didn’t even spook the horse. Charles spits and takes a deep breath, lines the shot up again. “The bastard is closer now but still out of 6-shooter range. Can’t afford to miss this shot” Charles says. Then Carlos on the reigns, slows down further. “Damn boy. I didn’t tell him to do that.” Charles thinks. Then takes the shot. 


  It doesn’t hit Buck, he missed his target again, but he got the horse this time and it starts to kick. Good enough, “Hurry it up!” Charles shouts, “He won’t be able to catch us now.” Just as he finished Sherman says “Wait, that’s Buck!” “Don’t wait!” Charles hissed, “He didn’t follow the orders I gave, he isn’t getting anything outta this job.” Hell he is lucky I’m letting him survive, Charles thought. Charles pulled out his six shooter and said, let’s take the loot back to base and hope that Chambers doesn’t have us killed. 

   He instructs the boys as to where to go in an attempt to lose anyone who may be following. Avoid the towns and taverns, stay off the main road. After 3 days of traveling they make it back. 

   They enter the compound, a series of well maintained caves in the middle of nowhere, with the carriage and horses. “Something don’t feel right, be on alert” Charles said, “We may have to fight our way out of here.” They exit the carriage when they get to Chambers tunnel. Charles looks around suspicious, this place always made him feel uncomfortable, to many shadows someone could be in and sneak up on you. 

 Chambers wearing an impressively clean cut suit, stands and clasps his hands behind his back, raises an eyebrow and says “you were suppose to kill the individuals not steal their supplies.” “Aye sir, their camp was empty and I think Buck sold us out” Charles replied. “So what did you do with Buck?” “Shot him boss, like all traitors” well shot at him anyway what’s a little lie going to do? “I see. Well failure as you know comes at a cost.” Replied Chambers. He slowly walks up, Carlos and Sherman both grimace and look at Charles, expecting his death. Chambers pulls a pistol out from the inside pocket of his suit, points it at Charles.

 The gun goes off. But it isn’t Charles who is hit, it is Carlos. Sherman turns to run and then he gets shot in the back 4 times and falls to the ground. A wave of Chambers hand and someone comes and removes the bodies, putting two more bullets in Sherman’s head. Chambers Then walks back to his chair sits and says “I never can look into those eyes of yours and pull the trigger. Why do you always seem so confident I will never do it?” Charles responded “It’s simple, surviving is my cur…” he is cut off as a knife catches him in his neck. He turns to see Buck there still covered in blood smiling a toothy grin and holding him as he bleeds out and says “Never trust a survivor until you know what they did to survive, eh Chuck?” A muted gunshot goes off, Buck looks down and sees a hole in his gut from a six-shooter. He falls to his knees making eye contact with Charles one last time, to which Charles simply gives him a knowing wink. That says, “right back at ya partner.”

This world is foreign and mystical, yet not to different than our world. Their is a strange magic in this world. The knowledge of magic and its works come from a floating city where the majority of upper ranked mages reside. Magic works on a “voluntary” sacrifice, they magic user requires that the sacrifices utters a specific phrase in clear wording for the desired result. So many young orphans are “adopted” by the mages and groomed as part of their cult willing and ready for sacrifice. They are only ever taught to speak specific phrases from a very young age. There is a group of assassins that are legally allowed by all, well known. Their hierarchy at the top is the one who chooses to accept and deny assassination requests. The assassins also have a deal with the mages not to assault one another, though there is a group of assassins that have anti-magic weapons and armor that are sometimes hired to kill rogue mages. The kingdoms have all but disarmed, keeping a token peace keeping force for drunkards and other crimes. The mages handle anyone who tries to be bandits or anyone who tries to bring up an army. Technology has stagnated with nearly no advancements in known history. The anti-magic weapons and armor is made in an opposite way of how magic works, the assassins learned a method of getting iron out of the blood and forging weapons and armor, though only 6 people have such weapons or armor and most of them is only weapons.

Today is the day, knowing it is coming doesn’t make it hurt any less. The day we found out broke our hearts. Somehow the day we put you into the ground is even worse. I had never known I could love someone without meeting them.

One week earlier

 “He is going to be coming any day now” Dakota said. “That’s true but I have barely been having any kind of cramps and they said I have barely started labor” Amanda said. “Oh he will be here when God thinks it’s time love” responded Dakota. 

2 days later

  Amanda came home and feeling strange, having cramps but they weren’t consistent or close enough together. Dakota didn’t think anything of it but reassures Amanda “Don’t worry, it’ll all be okay and work out fine, you have to trust in God” 

The due day

   “I am about to go to work love, let me know if they say anything about inducing you at you appointment today!” As Dakota is working he gets a phone call, but he is busy at work so he doesn’t answer it, he gets a text message immediately after and he goes to the bathroom reads the messages from Amanda. It was a short message that simply says “Harrison is now in heaven.” Dakota stunned by the message doesn’t know what to do and begins panicking. He goes to talk to an HR rep and then his supervisor about leaving early but he is panicking and doesn’t explain just says he has to leave. His manager is helpful and lets him clock of early and leave. He calls his wife and discusses what the doctor said “They couldn’t find a pulse, so they need to do an induction.” He tells her he will meet her at the hospital. On the way there he calls his dad, and tells him the news. Dad is as dumbfounded as everyone else. 

That night

  We have been at the hospital for a couple hours, many family and friends have come by and shown us love, to the point the hospital opened up another room and cleared it out for our visitors and guests. Amanda has been pumped full of many drugs to help her feel as little pain as possible. Her water hasn’t broke and she isn’t barely dilated. Dakota has spent much of the time alternating between the room for visitors and the room with his wife. Sleeping in a hospital is hard enough, even harder under these circumstances. 

The morning

    Amanda’s water has finally broken. The dicots is on his way. The moment has finally come, Dakota prays for a miracle that his sons comes out crying and there was a mistake with the machine. The doctor shows up, he starts prepping everything and Dakota is doing his best trying to be supportive for his wife. As his son starts coming out the head first, then the umbilical cord wrapped tightly around his neck. All remaining hope left Dakota at that point and was replaced with despair. He didn’t have time to despair though, his wife needed him. Bury it down, take care of her first. 

That rest of that day

   That day was spent many of those same guest came and held our beautiful son. Everyone got to hold him for several hours and lots of pictures. There was still an air of despair surrounding the couple. Then they say it was time to take him to the funeral home, so they could prep him for the funeral.

The rest of the week

   That week was a blur, many people visiting trying to do all they can, gifts of money and food. Yet there maintained a hole. Something that seemed to have no way to be filled. 

The funeral

   We buried you today, much of it was a blur. But I remembered all my friends and family coming and giving hugs expressing love and sadness on our behalf. I cried a fully bawling cry at, the first time I have since this all started. You have a place in our hearts that cannot be replaced. We go on living with the question “what would you be like today?” We go on knowing and believing that one day we will get to see you again. Yet we still ask God why he would do that to us. We go on living, with the hole you left.