ONCE UPON A DAYTIME TELEVISION SHOW

There was a chicken who ate all it could--it ate mainly Harry Potter books and Edgar Allen Poe poems because it was pro like that. His name was Sam.I.Am, as opposed to Will.I.Am, whom he considered a golden cheetoh.

Sam once crossed the interstate bypass route and was promptly run over by Chuck Norris in a SmartCar. It was the once instance where a SmartCar crash 1)did not destroy the SmartCar and 2)did not kill the driver. Chuck Norris jumped out of the vehicle and wept over the bloody and horribly mangled body for five minutes--when he punched it with the fist hiding underneath his beard. He then round-house kicked the body halfway to Timbuktu, where starving rodents ate its remains.

A mouse who happened to eat this carcass suddenly gained awesome Chuck Norris powers, grew larger and more anthropomorphic with washboard abs, and began riding motorcycles and looking cool for a living. It beat up Stephenie Meyer for no reason at all (other than the idea that it was a horrible author and should not be allowed a computer to type on, more or less pen and paper, but then again, this was an idea, a mere passing thought, a notion, rather than a stewed belief it had harbored for years). And then it died after shaking hands with Bo Burnham. The End.

AN EXCERPT

A piece of a story written in my journal that I enjoy because of the emotional response it gets out of me. Supposed to be for that Mirror's Edge-like comic I wanna write. 8D

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Each window she tried, Zephyr was promptly shunned by a swiftly sliding metal cover. Her heart raced. How would she get out? Even the door was being covered, and it was a long way back up to the vent she had just fallen though. She spun and stared wide-eyes at the man at the desk, and suddenly she could feel every heartbeat shaking ever fiber of her being.

The man was calm, almost too sure of himself. He stood from the large leather chair and began to walk around the desk, a similarly intimidating size. Slowly, he stepped, and talked as he did.

"You," he said, his voice no longer rich and inviting but devilishly charming with an ominous underlying tone, "heard all that, didn't you?"

Suddenly, Zephyr lost her ability to lie but also the ability to speak. She nodded her head, eyes wide as saucers.

The man nodded back, looking down at his feet, slowly, ever slowly stepping towards her now. "You weren't supposed to hear it," he said. Suddenly, a hand from his pocket reached across his chest, under the fine black jacket, over the scarlet tie, and retreated with a polished ebon-colored pistol. Finding her feet, Zephyr moved backwards, eyes on the man and the pistol hanging loosely from his hand.

"That means, well," he lifted the gun, barrel pointing at the ceiling, as if pointing it out if she hadn't already noticed it, "you know what this is, and what it does, and what I intend to do with it, right?"

Zephyr nodded again. Her back came in contact with the wall and she glanced back at it, almost snapping out of her trance state. But her eyes were still fixed on the man looming over her now. his handsome face had a certain coldness to it, like a beautiful ice sculpture. His similarly icy-blue eyes bore into her own warm brown ones, scouring her mind, instilling fear there.

"But first," he said, and put the gun-hand against the wall next to her head, "I suppose, since its just you and me, we should have a little bit of fun."

Fun? Zephyr was confused. Was there a morbid edition of fun he had in his mind? But her heart nearly stopped when he used his body to push her closer to the wall and she realized what he meant. Hard muscle nearly squeezed the breath out of her. She clawed at the wall behind her, searching for something, anything.

Suddenly, the man's shoulder punted forward as an earsplitting boom rang out. The look in his eyes, once the epitome of calm and confident, changed to pure animal fury. He swerved around and Zephyr could see a figure a few meters before her, with electric-blue hair as its dominant feature.

"Nihilus..." Zephyr whispered, and realized that never before had she been so relieved to see him. In his hand he held a pistol, faintly shaking from Nihilus' sweaty and nervous palms.

"Get away from her," Nihilus commanded, gripping the pistol with both hands.

The man's face changed again, to the composed mask he had before being shot.

"What now?" he queried, "Are you going to shoot me?"

Nihilus cocked the hammer. The man only chuckled and continued.

"Oh, little boy, you have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?" The man dropped the gun and put his hands in his pockets, walking towards Nihilus. "If you're a man, you should pull the trigger and kill me. Save your little girlfriend. Be the hero for once."

Suddenly, Nihilus pointed the gun downwards and pulled the trigger. The man fell to the ground, clutching his knee, anguished cries escaping his lips, teeth grinding against each other with excruciating force. Nihilus only stepped around him and ran for the button on the desk. He smacked a palm on it. The sheet metal lifted from the windows. He ran back to Zephyr and grabbed her arm.

"Come on!" he shouted, and pulled her in the direction of the windows. He shot the window and discarded the pistol, throwing it against the already-shattered glass as insurance against its breachability. The gun flew through without much resistance. Zephyr almost hesitated as they approached, but when she saw helicopter blades rising up before the windows, she ran at full speed.

As predicted, the glass came apart as if it were nothing. Nihilus and Zephyr jumped, stretching for the bottom-most bar on the helicopter.

Zephyr felt as if all time suspended, and there was nothing but the helicopter, herself, and the blue sky above.

Then, with sudden force, her hands came in contact with the bar and she snapped back into reality. She clung for dear life, gripping the bar with all her might as her legs swung back and forth, adjusting to the change in inertia, coaxing her to let go. A hand appeared before her, and Zephyr looked up. Azrael's grave face came into view. Zephyr could have cried. She took his hand and was promptly lifted into the cabin of the vehicle. She looked around.

Behind her the tall skyscraper grew small, moving away into the horizon, camouflaging among the other buildings with their white sides and silvery glass windows. Beside her, Nihilus clung to Shanti, who had just pulled him up. Michael and Decimus sat on the far side of the cabin, looking like the most dog-tired men on the earth.

Azrael squeezed her arm, demanding her attention. When she looked at him, she noticed the expression in his eyes was remorseful.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Azrael asked. She shook her head, and he gathered her into a tight embrace. "Thank God... I'm so sorry I couldn't be there. I heard it all. Oh, Zeph, at least he didn't..." He squeezed her harder for a moment, then let her go to look at her face. There were tears in his crystal eyes. "If there's anything you need, just tell me. I'll be here for you."

Zephyr stared dumbly into his eyes, then said, "That man... he was so handsome and beautiful, but... there was something about him.... like, he's not human." She envisioned the look in his eyes and the force of his body on hers, and she shuddered. Her stomach coiled into knots and Zephyr truly thought she was going to vomit.

Azrael pulled her close again and Zephyr curled into him, trying to forget everything that had happened in the last ten minutes.

"I want to go home," Zephyr muttered into his chest.

"Not now. We still need to go to Providence." Azrael paused, then said in a grave tone, "If Edwards' men don't get us first."

Zephyr looked up into his face, confusion written on hers. What did he mean? He stared off into the distance, and Zephyr followed his gaze.

Two more helicopters followed them. These things were different, though. On each side they carried a huge barrel, and one smaller but still menacing-looking barrel sat below. Zephyr realized what they were--military-issue assault helicopters, and they were hunting the defenseless vehicle Zephyr sat in now.

A sudden movement made Zephyr look up at Azrael, and his head was now facing in Michael's direction. Michael nodded, and he turned to the pilot.

"Get us closer to the rooftops. We're going to have to run."

The pilot nodded and the copter dived. To Zephyr, it seemed like hours before they were close enough to the rooftops to leap out.

After everyone dismounted, the pilot took off. One copter followed it while the other went straight for them.

"Go! Go!" Shanti shouted, pushing Zephyr forward. As a group, they ran, but as runners, they knew the golden rule by heart: divided we stand, united we fall.

"Split up!" Michael commanded, "He can't follow all of us!" He looked over at the three teens. "Take the east route. We'll go north."

Swiftly, the three took a right turn and left the adults to their northern fate.

The teens leaped off the building and tumbled to the next. Zephyr chanced glancing back and saw that the copter no longer chased them. Instead, it dropped off a pair of pursuit cops and continued on its way, towards the adults.

Fear gripped Zephyr's heart once more. Pursuit cops were ten times deadlier than any assault helicopter. Trained in the ways of Parkour, they could follow Traceurs and Traceuses anywhere, unlike regular cop or even the trained eye of a sniper. She turned back to the boys ahead of her.

"Company!" she shouted, and they glanced back as well. Their eyes widened as well and did exactly what Zephyr did at that moment; ran faster.

Zephyr searched for any sort of turn or hiding place that they could find refuge in. Nihilus caught it first. "Come on!" he shouted, and turned left, towards an open door that led into a building. Azrael, the last one in, closed the door behind them and made sure to lock it. Quickly, the three made their way down the stairs and collapsed a couple flights down, keeping a good distance away from any door. There, they collected themselves and took a short breather.

"We can't stay here," Nihilus said in between breaths.

"Then where do we go?" Zephyr asked, glancing at both boys. "We belong on the rooftops. They're not safe anymore."

"The streets are always an option," Azrael offered, "I don't think the cops will be at the bottom floor of this building by the time we get there."

Each teen glanced at the other. There really was no other option. "Streets it is," Zephyr said, as if finalizing the group's decision. "But first, a break." She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, soaking up as much oxygen into her system as possible. Her mind immediately went back to the man in the suit. She jerked, as if reacting to being hit, her fists clenching. The look in his eyes, the way he spoke... there was something otherworldly about him. Inhuman. Evil.

"You okay?" Azrael asked. Zephyr opened her eyes to glance at him. His eyes were worried.

"Not sure..." she said, and tried to rest again, but the image of the man invaded her mind. "I just... that man..." She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling of concrete stairs. What about him? She sat up and looked at Nihilus. "Thank you, Nihilus, for saving me."

Nihilus glanced away, but met her gaze again. "Uh, you're welcome."

Zephyr smiled at him, but powerful emotion began to overflow in her heart. She couldn't contain it. In a flash, her arms were around the blue-haired teen, gripping him tightly with all her strength. Tears began to fill her eyes.

"Nihilus," she began, her voice cracking, "Thank you so much. I don't know what would have happened if you didn't come... I don't know..." In reality, Zephyr did know what would have happened--but she didn't want to think about it.

For now, they needed to get back to Providence.

I AM IN CHRIST

There is a dark place I know
Which I like to always go
To get away from rain and snow
Where all my crap is safely stowed
One two three four left right up
I can never seem to cheat enough
The cops will get me for this stuff
Until then I'll hide in the fluff

Converse or Vans is the decision
Both seem to alter my vision
So quietly I make an incision
On your heart to stop it's beatin'
How far can you jump on the swing?
I pride myself in better things
Like making crappy lunch to bring
and on your strings I will cling

I want chocolate and vanilla
Swirled together, intermingled
I eat with you a day and forever
I don't think I'll ever love another
I play blackjack in fake vegas
So I don't lose money to the haters
I like to hang out with the skaters
I invite them home for mashed potaters

JOURNEY'S END

Passionate orange mirrors your eyes, o lonely one

You have journeyed long and far, but where do you go?

Is it time to find a new family?

Is it time to find a new home?

Black and blue mirrors your heart, o wandering one

You have lived long and prosperous, but what do you know?

Can you see the children dying in these parts?

Can you hear the cold wind blow?

The shadowy clouds mirror your love, o king of beasts

You have seen skies like this, but were you alone?

Did you run from those who hate you?

Did you read the words on their gravestones?

The dry earth mirrors your life, o keeper of the east

You have walked roads like this, but did you bow?

Would you hold this weapon of mass destruction?

Would you dare sit upon Satan's toe?

And although you are but a beast

And I am but of man

We see alike, in different ways

Only I know how my tears taste

BORED, YET AGAIN

Music: Title and Registration by Death Cab for Cutie

A slender hand pointed upwards, towards the black wall glittering with tiny lights.

"You see that?"

Dan turned his head to face her. "What?"

"That constellation." She glanced over at him before trying to map it out with her hands. "That long stretch of stars there. Do you recognise it?"

"I don't see it, Hikari, what are you talking about?"

"You seriously don't see that, Dan?" Shun asked, glancing over at his friend. "It's right there."

"Come on, you guys!" Dan complained. "What am I looking for?"

"Okay," Hikari began, pointing to another part of the sky, "Do you see the Big Dipper?"

Dan concentrated for a while before replying, "Yeah, I see it."

"Okay, look down and you'll see a cluster of stars that crawls up to the right a little bit." She drew the line in the air in hopes that he would see and understand. "The Big Dipper is actually Ursa Major, if that helps any..."

A minute of silence passed. "I still don't get it," he said. "I see it, but what is it?"

"It's the constellation Draco," Hikari said thoughtfully, as if it should mean something to Dan. "It's hard to spot sometimes, because it's so long it looks like it blends with other stars but it doesn't, not in Draco.."

Puzzled, Dan turned to his small red spherical friend. "How does that star look anything like Drago?"

"Not Drago!" Runo exclaimed. "Didn't you hear right? Draco. It's different."

"But it sounds the same..."

Hikari rolled her eyes and Runo smacked the boy in the back of the head. While the two bickered, Drago floated over to Hikari.

"I don't see it either," the bakugan admitted.

Hikari shrugged. "No worries, Drago. Just look at it and think of it as more of a snake with a dragon head. That should clear things up."

Drago peered at the sky once more. "Ah, I do see it. It's not like me at all. Why is it called Draco?"

"The people who looked up at the stars and decided to name them thought this one looked like a dragon--or what they thought was a dragon at the time. Not all dragons are the same."

The little white and yellow ball next to Hikari's head popped open and spoke up. "Like not all humans are the same? Or bakugan?"

Hikari nodded. "Exactly." Her phone in her pocket buzzed. Hikari pulled it out and read the message from her mother--dinner time.

Looking back at the still-fighting Dan and Runo, Hikari decided it was time to end this. "Okay, you two, either get a room or come down for dinner." With that, she scooted off the edge of the rooftops, her partner Wapiti clutching to her shoulder, and strolled inside.

AN IMAGINED DREAM

I see myself in a world in the past.

It's a birthday party for my best friend at another friend's house. He has a pool. We all swim in it, except for me. I didn't bring my swimsuit, and I just got out of surgery. I can't swim in bacteria-infested pool water. You would think that I would be home resting after heart surgery, but I feel fine. I want to go to my friend's house. Besides, I had been hospitalized for weeks. I want to be somewhere.

There's music blasting out of an old radio. Some of it's good. Some of it's crappy new age stuff. Some of the new age stuff is danceable to. But I don't dance, because I'd be the only one with goofy moves.

Later, a couple of my friends go into a sort of laundry room type building and come out minutes later with a cupful of kool-aid. The birthday girl fills little red dixie cups and passes them out to people in the pool. They all pass around the cups, some cringing.

I can't believe my eyes. I want to go home. They're not twenty-one yet, not a one of them. I see one of my classmates sipping from the cup. I'm sure he'll get expelled.

I can't stand it and decide to go inside. The AC is broken but it's survivable in the living room, where a ton of fans are blowing air around. I sit and wait. The dogs who live here visit me every so often. I think they can feel my anguish. I lay down and go to sleep. Nobody bothers me, except for the dogs who come and sniff. I wonder if they think I'm dead.

I wake up later. I don't know how long I was sleeping or what time it is. Bleary-eyed, groggy, and a bit delirious, I walk to the backdoor. Someone comlplains that there's red liquid on the floor.

"Maybe I peed there," I said.

"Then it would be yellow."

"Maybe it's my red pee."

They stare at me as if I'm growing tails out of my eyes. "Okay, first of all, that's just gross, secondly..." I don't remember what was said after that. I turn around. Another one of my best friends came in, toting people I don't know but they are friends.

"Hi, honey, how was work?" I said.

"Good, good."

More antics around the pool. I don't feel like participating. I hang out in the living room. A friend comes in and turns the TV on. We watch Family Guy. There was a part when Peter denies the handicapped access to his food and he ends up handicapped himself "for forty-five minutes" and apologizes. If you think about it, he's already handicapped because he's retarded, I think to myself.

Later, more friends and non-friends gather at the door. They want to go walking around the neighborhood, like going to the park. I want to get out of this house and do something fun that doesn't involve water, so I'm like, "I wanna go too!"

But my friends are all standing around, speaking in low voices. I hate that. "Why do you have to speak in small voices? What is so secretive that we can't tell anyone else?" I tell them. I'm so fucking sick of it I want to puke. My best friend pulls me aside. The moment of truth.

"We're going to go out smoking, okay? Guys, just stay here, okay?"

NO, NOT OKAY, I want to say, but I just fold my arms, look away and sigh, obviously unhappy. It's dark in this room. The only light comes from the TV. I see it casting dark shadows on his face. He's pleading me. Why can't I say no to him?

"Fine," I tell him, but I really want to say, "No, don't go! Please! Stay with me! Watch movies with me! Forget about getting high!" I consider getting on my knees while pleading. But I just watch them all walk away down the street, anguished. Tears form in my eyes and I wonder when we suddenly became part of the norm.

Didn't we pride ourselves on being different from other people? Isn't that why we listened to oldies instead of that Miley Cyrus bullshit? Isn't that why we dressed like we just didn't give a flying fuck? I watch them walk away and become the people they never wanted to be. I go inside and watch I Love You, Beth Cooper.

It kind of reflects my feelings at the time. They're not who I thought they were. I thought they were unique--one of a kind people who were like diamonds in a haystack. I didn't want haystalk people for friends. I want the needles that are hard to find. I'm in the room with those people--three others out of the twelve or so that used to be here. A few others left before they went out smoking, so only five or so are those people that I wish I could keep with me.

After a few minutes, the door opens and in walks those who walked out on us. They avoid us. I go to the kitchen to see the birthday girl picking at the remains of the birthday cake. She looks like hell.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

She doesn't answer. I wait. She pushes past me and goes to the backyard, where all the others on the walk have gathered.

I go back to the living room and I want to cry. Is she so messed up that she doesn't recognise me? Above me, the fan light flickers. It's positioned in such a way that the light hits the fan and flickers like a nightmare light setting. I tell my friend so. He agrees that it does look a little creepy.

Later, the birthday girl comes in and sits on a chair behind one of the couches. The look on her face is unreadable, but she still looks like she was dragged by the hair through hell and back. Soon, my mother calls me and says that its time to go home, and she's outside in the driveway. Before I go, I give everyone I know a hug because I know I won't be seeing them for a long time--they're all going to college, and I'm staying behind in high school.

The birthday girl won't let go. She's crying. "I'm sorry guys..." she says, but I don't know why. I want to cry but if my mother saw the tears in my eyes, she would ask why and I would tell and nobody would ever be my friend ever again.

Only days later did she call me and tell me she was sorry because she felt like she had abandoned us on her birthday. Instead of saying "Oh, it's okay..." I said, "I accept your apology," because it wasn't okay. She and my other friends had abandoned us and just about broken my heart. Which is shit because I just got it fixed. Now I have to go in again.

ITS TEN O CLOCK AND I AINT SLEEPIN

Written for a site as a backstory to their plot. READ IT KIDDIES AND ENJOY.

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“Doctor Hessler! Doctor Hessler, wait!” cried the out-of-breath assistant. She had learned on the first day of her job to wear sneakers or other comfortable shoes at work—chasing around her superior became a routine part of her job. As much as she cried out, day after day, for Doctor Gordon Jeremy Hessler to wait for her after she had gotten stuck behind a stampede of reporters, absentmindedly kept her eye off of him, or nearly ran over another staff member, the man would not comply. “Doctor Hessler! Where are you going?” Quickly, the young assistant nearly leaped over a stack of mail and used the momentum to carry herself closer to the man. For being well in his forties, he moved like an Olympic runner.

“I need to see the President,” said the doctor, not even pausing to turn his head to the woman, “Get me his secretary. Tell her I can’t hold, this can’t wait for another time.” With that, he sharply turned into a hallway, and the assistant turned with him.

“The President?” she asked, eyes growing wide. What is going on? she thought, and made a note on her clipboard. “If she asks the occasion, what do I tell her?”

“Tell her,” Dr. Hessler growled, “That it involves the fate of the human race.”

The assistant slowed her steps. Has he finally gone senile? she questioned, then sped up to meet shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Excuse me? The fate of the human race—what?”

The Doctor sighed and finally stopped in his tracks, startling the assistant nearly running to keep up with his long stride. She took a couple paces back to meet with him face to face. He rubbed his temples before finally telling her, “I know, I sound crazy, but it’s really urgent. Just… please, do it. Of all the crazy shit I make you put up with, please do this for me Krystle.”

Stunned, Krystle gaped and stared at his back as he walked away. He finally said please! What now, were pigs going to grow wings and fly off? Was the dispute between Coke and Pepsi over? She shook these ridiculous thoughts from her mind and made the long trek to her office.

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Krystle paused, one hand on the receiver, other twirling the phone cord around her finger. “That’s what I said!” she exclaimed. Another pause, shorter. “No! Nononono! Please, don’t hang up! I’m serious, please! Just, please, can you tell him that it’s very urgent, and… look, Dr. Hessler is an intelligent man. He doesn’t fool around like this. I know him best—I bend over backwards for the man. He even said please! He never says please! Just please, please, tell him it’s urgent, and we’ll be over there right away.” Krystle gripped the receiver tighter, hoping, wishing, praying. After a moment, she smiled and balled her hand in the cords into a fist, shooting the fist high into the air. Trying her best not to sound too excited, she replied, “Thank you so much. You have no idea how grateful I am, really.” Another pause. “Okay. Thank you. Goodbye.” She pushed the receiver into its place and untangled her hand in the cord. She had to tell Gordon.

As usual, he was in his office, staring blankly into his multiple computer screens. “I just called the secretary’s office. She said she would tell the President, but…”

Dr. Hessler looked up, his expression gruff as his eyes bored into Krystle. “But what? What?! Tell me, for God’s sake, don’t hide it.”

“It’s his son’s birthday today. He won’t miss it for the world.”

Groaning, Dr. Hessler looked back to his screens. “Oh well. We’ll crash the party and show him these scans. Of course, he’s no rocket scientist, so we’ll have to explain what they mean.”

Krystle raised a brow. “We?”

Unmoving, Gordon looked up at her. “Yes, Miss Krystle Frost, we, are going to convince the President that the human race will be wiped out unless we act now.” He looked back to the screen, clicked harshly on the mouse, and stood. “Come on. I’ve booked a flight for us.” He turned to his printer to pull out sheets of paper, hot and fresh with ink.

“Now? But… That’s in D.C.! We can’t just go to D.C.! I have a dog! She needs to be fed and taken care of and—“

“Then ask your roommate or mom or whoever to take care of her. We have to go.” He turned to Krystle, connecting gazes with her. “Frankly, the human race is more important than Fido.”

Krystle’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t just leave her dog behind! But then again, he was right—humans had a priority over animals. Slowly, sadly, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed her brother’s number.

QUICKIE

Once upon a time there was a fat cat that could only speak three languages: Japanese, Ancient Egyptian, and Cantonese. He only ate at restaurants where others could speak any one of these languages, so he ate alot of chinese food and sushi. He wondered what egyptian food tasted like--nobody else in the world who served food spone ancient egyptian. So, he decided to charter the services of a time machine and went back to the year 2000 B.C. There, the fat cat approached the pharaoh's cook and demanded food. The cook, highly superstitious, ordered all of the cooks working under him to make all kinds of delicious food for this cat, guardian of the underworld, eater of fine foods. The cat ate so much egyptian food that he gained five pounds--this would not do, because back home, he had a wife who would only love him if he were exactly fifty two pounds and three ounces. He demanded that the cook find a personal trainer so that the cat could work his weight back down to the correct size. There were no personal trainers, so the fat cat had to go back home and find one. He had spent the last of his money on renting the time machine, so he would have to find a personal trainer that would help him despite his finance troubles. After searching Italy for a month, he encountered a man named Chuck Norris who agreed to take pity on the cat's plight and work him back down to his previous size.

Finally, after two long months, the fat cat was exactly fifty two pounds and three ounces. He said Sayonara to Chuck Norris and went back home to his wife. Yet when he came home, she said she was leaving because she had found another cat to love her like he did not all this long time. He tried to plead his case to her, but seeing as she didn't understand either Japanese, Ancient Egyptian, or Cantonese, it was useless. She left with everything they owned.

DIDN'T WANNA WRITE ABOUT FORESTS SO HERE IS A SPIRITED AWAY FIC

Long bit of fanfiction I write when I'm bored. Here it is.

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Brown eyes watched the little fish mill about her feet, nibbling on her toes. Chihiro threw another piece of bread into the water and took a deep breath. How long had it been since she left the bath house? Despite the hard labor and trials and tribulations, she really missed all of the people there; Lin, Ubaba's son and pets, even Yubaba herself, Granny, and especially Haku...

Well, his name was now Kohaku, since she remembered he was the spirit of the Kohaku river. But Haku sounded so much more familiar. Of all of her friends, Haku was possibly the only one she could see--if only she could find her way back to the Kohaku river... But it was miles away, far away even still from her old house that she grew up in at the time she visited that river. But her grandparents did live nearby--maybe she could ask to live with them for a while?

Chihiro did like their new home--it was old and had history, but it wasn't like a centuries-old sliding door, tatami mat house. It was designed after the western style, with swinging doors and walls made of brick, covered by wallpaper. It looked just like every other house on the street--its only striking feature was its place at the end of the road. Also, the previous owners had installed a koi pond in the backyard, so Chihiro's father filled it up, got it working, and added goldfish. She often fed them--after all, it was officially her job to feed the fish.

"Chihiro!" her mother called, "Come inside. Time for dinner."

Chihiro stood and turned to face her mother. "Okay," she replied, and walked inside.

After dinner, Chihiro trekked down the hall to her room. Maybe, she thought, I should go back to the bath house and see if he's still there, and I can meet him! The old station was only a few hours' walk away. Surely this lazy weekend day she could go?

---------- ---------- ---------- ----------

Chihiro had packed all she would need in her backpack--water bottles, snacks, and a first aid kit, just in case. Chihiro's mother had instructed her to take all these things with her, acting the role of the responsible mother.

The young girl made her way across the forests and, in the distance, spied the old train station. There on the horizon it stood, bright red and perseverant. As she made her way to the entrance, she spied the strange-looking two faced stone statue. When she approached, she bowed in greeting, then went on to traverse through the station.

Just like before, Chihiro felt the wind tugging at her heels, stirring up old leaves, sending chills up and down her spine. Before long, she was at the end of the long tunnel, and before her lay a vast field of green

Chihiro sniffed the wind and searched for that familiar food scent that wafted through the air. She didn't find it. Curious, Chihiro ran through the fields, jumped over the brook, and climbed up the stairs.

The buildings were still there, but there was no food cooking.

Maybe it's too early... she thought, and walked down the open street. Maybe someone is here! Maybe Lin is here and she can tell me something!

"Hello?" Chihiro called, facing every building and stand, "Hello?"

"Hush, kid, do you want to wake up every spirit in the place? I swear, sometimes, these children have no respect for the dead."

Chihiro whirled around, searching for Lin, but instead saw nothing. "Who's there?"

"Shhhh!" hissed the voice, and Chihiro noticed it was noticeably closer--behind her. "Keep it down. Are you deaf or something?"

Chihiro turned around and found herself face-to-face with none other than... not Lin. It was a spirit, she could tell, and a girl only a little older than Chihiro herself.

"Who are you?" Chihiro asked.

"Shhhhhh!" She hissed once more, her expression clearly annoyed. "How many times do I have to tell you before you understand? Geez..." The girl then smiled and replied, "I'm Kiku. I'll bet my last sapling that you're Chihiro."

Dumbfounded, Chihiro nodded and replied, "Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Well, not only are you the talk of the town," Kiku said, then winked with a sly grin, "but I had special orders to look for a certain little miss Chihiro. You know, you are the hardest person to coax out of your house. Do you know how many bribes I had to pay in order to get you over here? But I guess that's nothing compared to the thanks I owe you."

Chihiro's expression did not change or waver. "Thanks? But what for?"

Kiku's eyes grew wide. 'What for? You don't remember? For freeing my big brother of that witch's grasp, that's what for."

Still, Chihiro wore a dumbfounded face. Kiku groaned to the sky and decided to be frank.

"Kohaku! You know!"

Chihiro blinked, then moved in closer to Kiku's face. "Kohaku? haku? He's free now?"

Kiku rubbed her temples, looking away from the young girl. "Boy, I knew that you were rumored to be stupid but I didn't think it was true." Kiku turned back to Chihiro with a smile on her face. "Let's start over. Hi, I'm Kiku, Kohaku's little sister. Thanks for helping him out of Yubaba's evil old croney grasp. Let me take you to see him. He's waiting for you."

Chihiro could not believe her ears. She was going to meet Kohaku, easy! Her heart filled with joy and her lips widened into a full grin. "Well, let's go! I want to see him!"

"Finally!" Kiku exclaimed, and her body changed. Chihiro stepped back and gasped. Before long, Kiku was a long dragon, glaring at Kiku with two bright golden eyes. She was notably smaller than Chihiro remembered Kohaku being as a dragon, but what she lacked in size Kiku made up for in beauty. Her scales, while dark brown like tree bark initially, flashed in the light a peacock green color. Her mane from the top of her head all the way to the tip of her tail exploded in cherry blossom pink. Chihiro had never seen such beauty in a living creature--Kiku was all of the beauty of the forest in one breathtaking dragon.

Kiku lowered her head, indicating that Chihiro should climb aboard. Gleefully, Chihiro did, held on tight to Kiku's little white antlers. Before she was sure she had a good grip, they were off.

One thing that differed significantly between Kiku and Kohaku (besides the color and size and obvious sex differences) was that Kiku was much faster. Chihiro found it difficult to keep her grasp on the antlers--it was like trying to hold onto two poles atop a jet plane at top speed. Chihiro could hardly breathe. She spied the ground far below them, growing smaller at a much faster rate than she would have liked. With all of her strength, Chihiro pulled herself up to Kiku's ear and shouted to be heard over the rushing wind.

"Slow down! I'm slipping!"

With that, Kiku did--to a much slower, more leisurely speed. Carefully, Chihiro climbed closer to Kiku's horns, holding tight. With her mind off of saving her skin, Chihiro felt free to look around.

She could see the horizons of the spirit world--all sea, with nothing but the bath house behind them and the train tracks bordering it as landmarks in the vast blue sea. On Kiku's back, she felt like she did when she flew with Kohaku--peaceful, free and at one with herself.

Soon, in the distance, Chihiro could see the presence of trees. Within minutes the trees grew closer and larger than she expected. These trees were humongous! But one tree in particular stood out from the rest. With a thick, sturdy trunk that stretched for what seemed to be leagues, Chihiro could hardly believe that this tree was real.

Kiku flew into the tangle of leaves and branches, careful not to injure herself or Chihiro and landed on a particularly flat and wide branch. Chihiro dismounted, and Kiku returned to her human guise.

"Wow! This tree is huge!" Chihiro exclaimed, gazing up at the canopy of green above her.

Kiku chuckled. "Feel free to look down. If you fall, one of us can catch you."

Chihiro ran to edge of the branch and looked down. The floor was the same as the canopy--nothing but branches and leaves as far as the eye could see. Chihiro wondered if she ground even existed here.

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Will finish later. I've got like... -counts pages- 12 pages of this stuff left.

WAS TOO TIRED FROM WATCHING 300 SO THIS IS WHAT I GOT

"So," I began, clasping my arms around my legs, "Who do you live with around here?"

Lanoo must have sensed that we would have a long conversation because he sat down next to me and leaned back on his upright arms. "Oh, you know, just with my cousins and friends."

"What about your parents?" I asked.

"Don't have any," was the reply.

"Well, everyone's got to have parents," I told him, wondering how in the world a bunch of kids could live under one roof. "You mean to say you were orphaned, right?" Maybe he lived in an orphanage not far from here and snuck out because he was a rebel.

"Oh, no, never orphaned," he replied. Lanoo looked down to the rift in between us and stroked a little white flower that grew there. "Not in our culture. You may think it's abandonment, but it's just life for us."

"Okay..." I said, choosing my words carefully as to not insult him. 'Would you mind telling me what that culture is?"

"Mine," he replied.

Nice. Obscure answers were the best. Had I been a terrorist type of person, I would have blown his head off right then and there. I wanted to know more about him, but it Lanoo was going to give me more obscure answers, I really didn't want to ask any more questions. Maybe that was his plan all along.

Lanoo turned to me. "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything?"

"Creepy..." I said. I wasn't sure if he was purposely getting on my nerves or if he really was a creeper. No, he was too handsome to be a creeper. Creepers generally didn't take care of themselves and looked creepy on top of just plain unattractive. Maybe he was a different kind of creeper? "Well, be more specific." Please don't ask a creeper kind of question, I prayed.

"Well," he began, and searched for some question to ask. The flower growing in the bramble must have given him an idea because he then followed up with, "What's your favorite flower?"

It wasn't hard. "Daisies."

"Why?"

What kind of a question was that? But I did have a reason for liking them, so I didn't hesitate. "They're small and cute and simple. They're easy to draw, too."

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As it continues, I realize that this Willow person is becoming less and less like me. I like sunflowers over daisies.

I think she's becoming more of her own person.

MUST READ THE PREVIOUS POST BEFORE CONTINUING

A continuation fo the previous post. If you haven't read it, I urge you to do so.

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Once at the cabin, I immediately felt better. He stopped at the front door to let me down.

"Hey, you got a phone number I can ring you up at?" I asked, ready to whip out the old pen and notepad in my bag.

Lanoo shook his head. "I'll be out here tomorrow if you like," he offered.

I was a little disappointed. I fully expected him to want to trade numbers, like any normal person. But he wasn't normal. Maybe his family didn't like in the twenty-first century, let alone the twentieth. I nodded. "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow." I turned around and went inside.

My mother attacked me first. "Who was that boy?" she snapped, "And why was he carrying you? You're a mess--what happened?"

I tried to play it off. "That boy? That's Lanoo. He lives around here."

My dad looked at us from around the corner. "Are we going to eat or not?"

Mother dropped the subject for the sake of food. Once washed up and at the table, my dad brought it back up.

"So who is this Lanoo boy?" he inquired.

"Some kid who lives around here," I began, but my mother interrupted.

"Honey, He's not just any kid," she said. Her tone was deep, as if warning us all. "He's super handsome. And he's got the hippie look. Does he do drugs?"

I shrugged and swallowed a piece of bread. "I dunno. I thought he might, but he doesn't seem like that bad of a kid. But yeah, he's SUPER cute."

"So what did you two do?" Dad asked.

I improvised a quick cover-up story. "Well, when he found me he saw that I was drawing one of the bluejays so he sat there and drew some pictures with me. He talked about the forest alot, not much about himself. I asked him for a phone number but he says he doesn't have one."

"Planning a second date?" Mom asked before shoveling a forkful into her mouth.

"Pshh. That wasn't even the first! But he said he'd be out there tomorrow, so I can meet him again."

Dad spoke up. "I want to meet this boy before you two get into anything serious."

I laughed. "Don't worry. We'll probably just stay freinds." I knocked on the chair a couple times. Mom noticed and grinned.

---------- ---------- ---------- ----------

I didn't even have to avoid one spider home before I found Lanoo. He wasn't looking in my direction and seemed to be concentrating on something in the sky. I approached slowly and quietly.

"Hi," he said without even turning to look.

"Hi," I said, taking a seat next to him. "So, are you on drugs or something?"

He looked at me, incredulous. "Of course not!"

"Do you do drugs?"

"No!"

"Oh, okay. Just making sure, cuz you dress like a hippie and hippies do drugs."

Lanoo looked at himself, assessing the clothing. "These old things? I just picked them up off some dead guy stuck in a tree."

I gave hima curious look, not quite sure whether he was joking or not. He grinned and laughed.

"I'm just kidding. The dead guy was floating down the river."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Lanoo was classic.

WHAT INSPIRED ME TO DREAM

A little self-insertion before going to bed.

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"Don't go too far, Willow!"

"Kay!"

"Keep your walkie-talkie handy!"

"Kay!"

"And don't step into any spiderwebs!"

I could have rolled my eyes. But at this point, I was too excited to say anything else but, "Kay!" as I leaped through the forest.

Being even more of a man than my brother, my parents trusted me to stay safe in the forest all alone. The odds of getting attacked by either humans or animals was slim to none, and I am one of the most sure-footed people I know, even in galoshes. I could climb a cliff face with no shoes, but it didn't hurt to have protection from boiling rock every once in a while.

With my mountain pack full of goodies, I leaped over logs and sidled around ferns. More than once I spied a spiderweb and narrowly avoided it. Those were spider's homes. No way was I going to ruin their home.

After a couple minutes of hiking, I stopped and looked to the sky. Wow! The trees never ceased to amaze me. Reaching heights of three hundred feet, Redwood trees were the largest living plants on the planet. I took a deep breath and smiled. How amazing was this place! I could feel the magic of it all welling up inside me. I felt like I belonged here instead of that dismal city filled with smog and crime.

The next step I took sent me rolling down the mountainside. So much for sure-footed, but everyone makes mistakes sometimes. I crashed through a couple ferns and bushes before hitting a tree. Then I blacked out.

I woke and noticed the sky was orange. Wasn't the sky blue? Oh, right, it must be evening. Oh, SHIT! I fell and blacked out! Now mom and dad would never let me go into the forest alone! Groaning and moaning, I stood and wavered. A dizzy spell hit me like a ton of bricks--I had to sit back down. Falling seemed easier than just placing my butt on the floor, so I did that instead. Leaning back against the tree, I checked for blood. Right on my temple sat a little scratch. While it didn't hurt, it bled like the Mississippi river. Great. Just what I needed.

The radio crackled. "Willow, enough playing around. Come back and get ready for dinner."

I took a few moments to locate the walkie-talkie ad then spoke into it. "Yeah, coming." I looked back up the mountain. In no way was I in any mood to climb that at the moment.

"Shit..." I growled, then decided to crawl up. I couldn't stand, but I could sure conserve energy for the walk back. As I did, I sang a quiet song I heard long ago. I wasn't sure about the lyrics, because it wasn't in english (probably celtic or scottish or something), but I knew the tune well enough. It made the slow climb up the mountain easier. Finally, I reached the unofficial path wrought through the trees and ferns and took a quick rest. My arms and legs shook like young tree boughs in a stormy wind. It would be hours before I felt fit enough to stand and walk.

"Ugh, damn," I groaned, and attempted to stand. It worked, but not for long. In the end I found myself on my hands and knees in the bramble and dead leaves. I considered radioing my dad to come and get me. Well, I would never be able to walk outside the house again, but I would be alive.

"Need help?"

Startled, I looked up. It took a couple seconds before I realized that the person who spoke was right in front of me, just a couple of feet away.

I felt unworthy in the presence of this roman godlike creature. He was strikingly handsome with a strange beauty that shocked me to the core. Who was this person? He seemed like he could be a little older than I was, but at the same time had a childlike appearance that suggested he was younger than his near six-foot height proposed. He wore a total hippie outfit, which made me happy and nervous at the same time--pinto pants and a leather vest with tassels at the shoulder, in pure Michael Lang style. He wore no shoes, and I could tell that his skin looked similar to the inner wood of a redwood tree--probably why I hadn't spotted him earlier. His hair, long and unruly, bore three shades of brown; light, red and dark. It was a strange combination, but matched with his hippie-foresty look. Even from my point of view on the ground, I could tell that his eyes were blue as the sky and seemed to pop out of their sockets because the color was so bright. I could have been relieved, but I was more nervous about what he might do--like instead of helping me, kicking me back down the mountain and killing me for good. He could be high for all I knew.

"Help would be nice," I said, then asked, "But who are you?" At this point I realized I was gawking and tried to look more inquisitive.

"Call me Lanoo." He offered his hand. I went to take it, hesitated, but then let him help me to my feet. "And you are?"

"Willow," I said with a smile. I didn't want to seem like I was coming onto him strongly, but I had to lean onto his frame if I was going to stand at all.

"Nice name," he told me. He didn't seem to notice at all that I had used his body for support.

"Thanks. Could say the same about you. Don't meet too many Lanoos around here. You live around here?"

Lanoo nodded. "Yeah. Say, need help getting back to where you live? I know you can't walk with those legs. You look like a newborn fawn."

I laughed and nodded. He must be in the forest alot if he reffered to me as some sort of newbie forest animal. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I'm not sure how long I've been out here, but I know I took a bad step and cracked my skull on that tree a while ago and I've been bleeding ever since." I pointed up at the cut on my temple.

Lanoo inspected it and grimaced. "Ouch. I should get that patched up soon before it gets worse." He put his hand on the scratch and I began to protest.

"I can't spend too long out here, because my dad has dinner ready and if he finds out I'm late because I fell and knocked out on a tree, he'll--"

"Shh, he won't find out. See? All better." Lanoo took his hand off my head. I wrinkled my brows in confusion.

"All better? Wha--?" I touched the spot where the scratch once was. Now, all that was left was a raised line like a mini mountain range on my face. Now I was getting suspicious. "What did you do to it?"

"I fixed it. Now," he turned around and kneeled a little, beckoning me to climb on his back. "Let's go." I had no other choice. It was either this or die by way of parental fire. I climbed onto his back and directed him towards the cabin.

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Didn't finish. Maybe later.