Like Missing Rain

I miss you as I miss the rain.

The clean, unique smell I always remember.

The soft caresses on my skin that make me want to melt into the touch.

The cozy feeling of wanting to lay snuggled in bed.

The calming, gentle sound, like music to my ears.

The inviting, comforting sight that never ceases to make me smile.

The familiar taste, sweet and delicious on my lips.

The deep love that always has me awed and breathless.

Its absence makes my heart yearn for its return.

When the rain falls again, I wish nothing more for it to stay.

So missing you is like missing rain.

Not always here, but always in my thoughts.

Existing

The rain was coming down slowly. It wasn't enough to be a cause of concern, but it was plenty to ruin any outdoor activities. People could be seen rushing to their destinations, getting themselves even wetter than they would be if they had just walked. All the shops on the busy street were brightly lit and bustling with customers. All except for one little shop on the corner, the bell on it's door constantly silent. No one passing by even gave it a second glance. If they had, they probably still wouldn't have noticed the slender figure staring out the dusty window.

Inside, the figure stared at what little reflection the window showed. Straight, brown hair; sky-blue eyes, and a thin, feminine face. The person reflected in the window wiped at it with an old rag. No matter how much she washed it, the letters spelling “Adam's Bookstore” were barely legible to anyone passing by. She didn't turn around when an older man set down a box on a stack behind her. After straightening up and stretching his back, he walked over to the girl.

“Staring out the window again, I see,” he said in a cheerful, grandfatherly voice. Standing at nearly a head taller than the girl, he preferred to sit when he talked to her.

The first thing the girl always noticed about him were the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, showing he obviously smiled a lot. His salt and pepper hair made him look older than he really was, but his vibrant, blue eyes made up for it. He was a very handsome man but old enough to pass for her father.

The girl didn't turn around. She merely sighed again at stared at the rain with a wistful expression.

“We haven't had any customers in days,” she muttered finally.

The man laughed and patted her on the back.

“Sylvia, we're a bookstore,” he chuckled. “and an old one at that. Young people these days prefer their electronics to books.”

Sylvia crossed her arms and turned around, her face set in a scowl. “My friends and I like books, you know. We're not all video-game junkies,” she added, rolling her eyes. Then she took on a thoughtful look. “Can I ask you something, Mr. Adams?”

It was Mr. Adams' turn to roll his eyes. “Please, you make me feel old when you call me that.” Sylvia snickered, but he waved her off with a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. 'But you are old, Mr. Adams.'” He shook his head and mumbled, “Kids these days.”

“Okay, fine, can I ask you a question, William?” Sylvia asked sarcastically.

Mr. Adams thought for a second. “I don't know...” he finally answered, a smile evident in his voice. “Depends on the question.”

“Well, I was just wondering why you keep this shop open if no one even knows it exists.”

“Ah, now see, that is the kind of question that requires some deep thinking,” Mr. Adams said, pacing back and forth.

Sylvia sighed. “It's just a simple question, I don't see how you have to think about it.”

She was answered with a grin. “You see, Sylvia, that's just it. Maybe this shop exists, but then again maybe it doesn't.”

“Uh...I don't follow...”

Mr. Adams stopped pacing and spread his arms wide, gesturing to the whole shop. “Maybe the only reason this shop exists is because he believe it exists. If either I or you, or both, cease to believe it exists, then would it actually cease to be? Or would it still be here?”

Sylvia looked at him blankly for a few moments. Then she said, “Are you on something, Mr Adams? I never took you for one of the hippie types.”

He simply laughed and patted her on the back once more. “You know what they say about the ramblings of old men.”

“No,” Sylvia said, crossing her arms, “I don't.” The old man blinked.

“Huh...you know...neither do I,” he laughed, making Sylvia roll her eyes. “Finish wiping off that window, and then you can go home for the day.” He walked off past a dusty book shelf, still laughing, and left Sylvia to finish her dusting.

“He is so strange sometimes,” Sylvia muttered to herself on her way home from the bookstore. It had taken her another two hours to finish dusting everything. Not that she was complaining. It was an easy job, and, if Mr. Adams wasn't paying attention, she would grab a book and take a break to read it. Besides, she would rather be inside at that moment. It had been warm that morning, so she had tossed on her favorite black skirt, her worn out sneakers, and matching black tank-top. Now, since it had been raining all day, it was a bit to cold for her liking.

“I wonder what he meant, though,” she said, thinking out loud. She twirled the light blue umbrella she was holding and bit her lip, a habit she developed for when she was deep in thought. “There's no way that something could cease to exist just because we choose to believe it doesn't,” she said to no one in particular. She stopped walking, though, still biting her lip. She loved anything to do with science fiction and couldn't help but give what Mr. Adams said a little bit of thought.

Sylvia stared up at her umbrella, listening to the rain hitting it and sliding off. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. After a few moments, she could have sworn she couldn't feel the umbrella anymore, but she thought it was probably because she was gripping it so tight. Then her hand flew up to the top of her head, patting at it. When she brought it up to her face, it was wet.

“No way,” Sylvia breathed. She quickly opened her eyes and looked up, frowning as soon as she did. Her umbrella was still there. She laughed, shaking her head at how silly she was being.

Sylvia started to walk home again, keeping to the right side of the sidewalk so she didn't get splashed by the passing cars, or pushed into traffic by the impatient people rushing down the sidewalk. She attempted to avoid the muddy puddles that dotted the sidewalk, but it was slow progress. People passed her in annoyance, some even shoving her into the sides of the shops. Growing frustrated, she squeezed her eyes shut once more and deliberately walked through a puddle.

She gasped. Looking down, she saw that her green and purple sneakers were perfectly dry, save for a bit of mud on the very bottom. Sylvia moved over, hugging the wall to avoid getting trampled. To her amazement, she saw the huge puddle everyone was walking through, and the one she had just crossed. There was no way she could have avoided getting wet without going completely in the road, the puddle was too big for that.

Dropping her umbrella, she raced as fast as she could back to the bookstore. The bell clanged for only the second time that day when she burst through it, shouting for Mr. Adams.

“Mr. Adams! I need to talk to you!” Sylvia called, looking around the empty shop. Her shoes made a squelching sound as she walked down the isles, leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind them. She could have sworn the store owner had been there when she left, only ten minutes prior. She kicked a few boxes over in her frustration, coughing when a cloud of dust filled the air.

Stumbling backwards, she felt her back hit a door. Sylvia turned around to see the old oak door that led, supposedly, to Mr. Adams' apartment. She wasn't sure, though, since she had never been allowed through the door. 

She put her hand hesitantly on the tarnished doorknob, debating on if she should turn it.

“It's probably locked,” she told herself. Still, she didn't move her hand. She had always wondered what was really behind that door. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself. As soon as she made to turn the handle, a hand fell on her shoulder.

Sylvia jumped back and screamed, clutching at her chest. She turned around to see Mr. Adams staring at her, his hand still outstretched.

“What in God's name are you doing here, Sylvia? You nearly gave me a fright!” He laughed a bit breathlessly, running his hands over his face. “I heard the bell and went to check for a customer, but all I saw were these wet footprints leading back here. I thought maybe we had a burglar.”

“I-i'm sorry,” Sylvia managed to say between gasps. “I wanted to talk to you, so I came back. You scared me, though,” she said, giving him an apologetic look for what she almost did.

“Well, then, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Mr. Adams escorted Sylvia over to a couple of chairs, covered in dust like everything else in the shop. Once seated, she proceeded to tell him what had happened with her umbrella and the puddle.

“It was so strange! I knew there was no way I could have avoided it, so I concentrated without thinking, and I walked right through it!” She could barely get the words out fast enough. “When I turned around, expecting the puddle to be there, it was there, but everyone else walked through it and got wet. So I ran all the way back to tell you about it.”

Mr. Adams sat in silence the whole time she was telling her story, nodding here and there. When she had finished, he merely said, “Interesting...” He didn't sound at all surprised to Sylvia. In fact, he sounded as happy as he looked. He next comment surprised her almost as much as he had earlier.
“Well, my dear, I think its time I left this shop to you.”

Sylvia stared at him, her mouth open. It took her a moment to regain her voice and say, “What the heck are you talking about? I'm only 19, I can't take over a bookstore!” Mr Adams just pattered her back like he had that morning and stood up. He had a wistful look on his face when he next spoke.

“Sylvia, I am not as young as I look. I have been around for decades longer than this shop has, decades longer than even this town has.” When he turned to stare at her, she saw an old wisdom in his lively eyes she had never noticed before. “I've been waiting for someone who has the ability to do what you just did.”

“I don't understand,” Sylvia stammered. “You're not making any sense.”

The old man she'd known almost her whole life just smiled at her. “Child, I'm not like other people.” Almost absently, Mr. Adams picked up a book, then closed his eyes. After a few seconds, the book disappeared, right before Sylvia's eyes.

“How...how did you do that?” she breathed. She looked up, really seeing him for the first time.

He just smiled. “I told you. I'm not like other people. It wasn't just the ramblings of an old man when I was explaining about my shop to you earlier. Very few beings have the ability to make things disappear just by willing them to cease existing.” Pausing, he sighed, looking much more like the old man Sylvia always thought him to be, and ran a hand through his hair. “It gets tiring, though. Wishing something would just disappear over something petty, not really meaning for it to...”

Sylvia frowned. “Couldn't you just will it to exist again?”

“Ah, there is a problem with that,” he sighed. “Unless you know everything about whatever it is you want to make disappear—every single detail, no matter how insignificant—, willing it to exist again will not result in the same thing you made nonexistent. And people....” Mr. Adams shuddered. “People are one thing you never think that about, because when they're gone, their gone. It's as if they never existed. Whatever they did with their lives, their ties to family and friends, anything they affected in their lives—it all gets erased.”

“Wow,” the girl whispered. “I never knew something like that was possible.”

Mr. Adams nodded. “Indeed it is.”

Sylvia looked down at her hands. “So does this mean...I'm different? I'm not me anymore?”

“Of course not, dear,” Mr. Adams reassured her. “Quite the contrary, nothing about you has changed at all. You've always had this ability, Sylvia. I witnessed it when you were small, though I did grow slightly concerned when it stopped happening. You've merely regained an ability you were born with.” 

He looked away, looking slightly sad. “I, however, have changed. I have made my share of mistakes, and I'm too old a man to keep remembering to watch my thoughts.” Slowly, but deliberately, he got up and walked around to the very back of the shop. There was another oak door that Sylvia was never allowed to open, and it looked better taken care of than the one she had tried to open earlier.

The old man placed his hand on the handle, much like Sylvia had before. Turning to the side, not looking quite at her, he told her, “It is quite possible to believe yourself out of existence, Sylvia. And though it takes a heck of a lot more skill and practice than you have now, I wouldn't advise it. I've spent the past few decades away from society, making sure anyone I used to know was long gone before I decided to do this.”

“Do what? Mr. Adams, what on earth are you talking about?” Sylvia demanded, but to no avail. The bookstore owner merely gave her an apologetic smile and quickly slipped through the door. Too confused at first to do anything, she quickly grabbed for the door before it shut, but she was too late. She tugged on it as hard as she could. It wouldn't budge. She kicked and pounding on the door, knowing it wouldn't help, but needing some way to vent her frustration.

Then she stopped, placing her now red hands on the door. Sylvia shut her eyes and concentrated with all her might. Within a few seconds, she no longer felt the door beneath her hands and quickly ran through. When she opened her eyes, she was standing at the beginning of the forest that surrounded her town. She turned around to see the old shop, the door still intact.

“Looks like I can only make things cease existing for as long as I concentrate on them,” she muttered to herself. Feeling she'd already lost enough time, she followed the muddy path into the forest as quick as she possibly could

It was hard for Sylvia to see anything. The thick vegetation, coupled with the dense fog, made her progress slow. Still, she kept running. She wanted to stop Mr. Adams from doing...whatever it was he was planning on doing. She was soaked to the skin and shivering like mad, but she wasn't going to turn back yet.

It didn't take her very long to reach a clearing. Sylvia could barely make out the shape of Mr. Adams bent down in the mud by the lake shore. He looked as if he was writing something in the mud.

“Mr. Adams!” she called. As soon as she took a step forward, the fog grew even thicker, obscuring her vision all together. Suddenly, a strong wind blew through the forest, sending her sprawling in the mud. Almost as quickly as the fog had appeared, it vanished, leaving nothing but an empty lake shore
.
Sylvia struggled to her feet and stumbled over to where she had seen Mr. Adams' figure crouching in the mud. She looked around but found no sign of him. She sank to her knees, frustrated tears filling her eyes. Then she froze. There, scrawled in the mud in Mr. Adams' handwriting, were three words that sent her sobbing. Three words that would remind her forever of just how powerful a simple belief can be:

“I don't exist.”

My Most Important Necessity

When I met you, I wanted to be your friend;

After I became your friend, I knew I would fall for you;

After I fell for you, you said you felt the same as me;

Then you said "I love you," and I wanted to say it back;

When I said it back, I wanted to stay with you always.

And now that I'm with you, I'm never letting go.

I love you with all my heart and more.

You're my most important necessity.

O.A.E.

Always in My Heart

Though our time together never seems like enough,

Though getting through the day alone may seem so tough,

Though it may be difficult to be so far apart,

Just remember that you're always in my heart.

I love you.

Only, Always, Ever.

How Much I Love You

Have I told you how much I love you?

I love you

more than the air that we breathe,

more than the life that I lead,

more than this world that I see,

and much more than me.

Only, Always, Ever.

What You Are

Shall I tell you what you are?

You, my dearest love...

are more wonderful than the rain in the Spring,

more incredible than the lightning in a storm,

more perfect than the purest gem,

more amazing than the clearest night,

and more important than anything in the world.

You mean everything to me.

Only, Always, Ever.

Every Breath

They tell me we shouldn't be together.

They say we could never be.

They think we don't belong with each other,

Why can't they see what I see?

I see the kindness in your eyes,

and the gentleness in your smile.

I hear the care in every word,

and the joy in every laugh.

I feel the tenderness in our embrace,

and the passion in our kiss.

Most of all, there's the love in every breath you take.

And if they don't understand how I could know all this,

It's because I feel the same for you.

Only Always Ever

Goddess of Wolves

On Mount Olympus reside the gods and goddesses who rule over all the universe. Alas, I have no place there; for I am the goddess of wolves, and wolves belong in the forests of Earth. Ferniseus, the god of the forest, is my father, and Selene, goddess of the moon, is my mother. My father was deeply in love with Selene, but she did not believe it could work. She could reach the earth in the form of the moon's rays, but he could not touch the moon. Every night the moon shone, Ferniseus would change into a wolf and climb to the highest point in the forest to howl his love for Selene. One night, when the moon was full, Selene took pity on the love-sick god. She appeared to Ferniseus in a dream, for she alone of the goddess could not venture to Earth, and told him, "I will make us a daughter from the light of the moon and the spirit of the wolf. She will be our connection. During the full moon, when I am at my most powerful, go to the lake deep in the forest and howl for me. As long as she is with you, we can be together." She kept her word, and the people of Greece could hear my father's howls at every full moon.


My mother gave me life, while my father gave me a soul. They called me Lupina, and made me the goddess of the wolves. Man is the wolf's only predator, and so they are my enemy. They hunt my children for sport or revenge for killing livestock, blaming them for the deeds of common wolves. My wolves do not eat anything outside this sacred forest. Any man foolish enough to venture too close to the sanctuary of our lake soon meets his end at the fangs and claws of my children. Sometimes, I shift into that of a wolf with ivory fur and hunt beside them. Women need not fear me or mine, for I have not met a woman whose intention was to harm my wolves. Only one mortal has entered our sanctuary with my blessing. The crossing of our paths intertwined our fates, and this makes it a tale worth telling.


  I reside on an island in the Aegean Sea. Zeus created it as a blessing for the love between my parents and named it after me. He called it Lunaria, and even went so far as creating a duplicate to my parents' lake at it's very center. It has a bounty of wild game, medicinal and edible plants, and clean water for my wolves and me. The thick forests that envelope the island protects them from prying eyes and threats, but there are always some men who are braver and more foolish than others. A young Trojan warrior named Inesius was one of them. He had heard about my island through tales of men that I had been merciful enough to let live. The men gave him a warning: Beware the white wolf that guards the lake at the island's heart.


Inesius, like many warriors his age, was full of pride. He took their warnings as a personal challenge and vowed that he would not leave until he bathed in the waters of this mystical lake. After gathering a crew of twenty men and a small ship, Inesius made his way to my island. I was beginning a hunt with my wolves near sunset when I caught the scent of fire and wine. Keeping to the forest’s shadow, I circled the island until I came upon their camp. All of Inesius’s men were sitting around a fire, toasting their safe journey. My sharp ears picked up their conversation: they were planning to set out for Lunaria’s lake at first light, hunting along the way.


Their casual talk of plundering my island angered me. I howled, calling my wolves to me and causing the men to stiffen. The air was suddenly ripe with the scent of fear, making my wolves restless and eager. We waited until dark, as is the way of our kind. One by one, the wolves woke the men with their howls while I reverted to my mortal form. By the time the sun awoke, only Inesius remained alive. I had no quarrel with the young Trojan, for he alone had not spoken of hunting my children or their prey. Rather, he claimed the provisions and water on their boat was sufficient for their stay. I left the rather handsome mortal when he awoke, disheveled from sleep and staring in disbelief at the bloody, yet empty, camp. As long as he stayed away from my wolves, their food, and our lake, he need not fear me. I remained distrustful, though, and decided to stay near until he made for home.


The disappearance of Inesius’s men did not keep him at the shore for long. He was not visibly shaken, but I could smell the uncertainty emanating off of him, and my keen eyes could see the tenseness of his body. Soon after midday, he had packed several days’ journey worth of food and water before striding with a false air of confidence into my forest. He was quite graceful for a mortal, having no trouble navigating the cluttered forest growth. The forest seemed to calm him, soothing away fear’s stench, and soon his confidence was genuine. I kept to the shadows as I followed, alternating between my mortal and wolf forms. The possibility of his noticing me never crossed my mind. One could say I was overconfident, as most of us gods and goddesses are when involved with mortals. If I had been more careful, less proud, these events would not have led to the breaking of my heart.


I had taken my preferred form when I ventured too close to where Inesius sat eating his lunch. A twig snapped under my paw, causing Inesius to look up and see me for the first time. I had expected to see his eyes widen in surprise, and smell the sudden fear of existence. Instead, he startled me by saying, “I was wondering who had been following me.”


His words stung my pride, but I was fascinated despite myself. It was not often a mortal surprised one of us, and I was intrigued. No mere man had ever detected the presence of any of my wolves until it was too late. On a whim, I decided to reveal myself to this strange man. I stepped into the shadows once more, emerging in mortal form, for all knew that no man or woman could look upon a god as they are and live. What he saw was almost a mirror image of my true self: a slender yet strong woman, with amber eyes burning with the spirit of the wolf, and long, silver hair. I walked fluidly over to him and sat down, taking pleasure in the way he stared. I told him I was the guardian of the forest and goddess of the wolves. Inesius surprised me again by blushing, embarrassed. He explained that he had planned to bathe in Lunaria’s lake, wanting to defy the white wolf. I grew angry again. I warned him away from the lake and immediately changed back into a wolf. Growling, I ran back into the woods. I kept far enough away that he wouldn’t know I was still watching. Despite my anger at his words, I could not bring myself to harm the warrior. I decided to keep following him, leaving him alone unless he actually found my lake. 


Though I actually tried to be silent instead of relying on the wolf’s natural silence, Inesius still knew I was there. He talked to me during his journey, even though he couldn’t see me. He told me about his family in Troy, and how he joined the army to help feed his siblings. Normally, the life of a mortal man would not interest me. For reasons I could not explain, though, I cared about this man. The more I watched him, the more he reminded me of one of my own wolves. One day, I instinctively growled at one of my own children for taking an offensive stance towards Inesius. It was then that I realized I had fallen in love with this warrior. I had heard of such phenomenon occurring between mortals and gods, so I didn’t give it much thought.


On the fifth night after he arrived, Inesius stepped through a thick mass of trees and entered a lit clearing. I watched his eyes open wide in wonder at the sight of my family’s lake. I followed him, taking my mortal form for the first time since he angered me. I wondered aloud how he had found my lake and why he reminded me so much of a wolf. Inesius turned, smiling sheepishly when he saw me, and said he followed the scent of the water. He admitted to me that he was not originally from Troy. He was found as a babe, wrapped in a wolf’s pelt. Later, he discovered he and his birth parents hailed from a village descended from wolves. They were like me, he said, but instead of a goddess who could shift into a wolf, they were wolves who could shift into mortals. Inesius said I was sensing his ancestors’ wolf spirit, as he had been sensing mine while I was following him. Startling me once again, he said he knew I had fallen in love with him, easily sensing my emotions while I was in my wolf form.


I smiled, feeling happier than I could ever imagine being, for I had never found another, mortal or god, to capture my heart. I took a step forward to embrace him when I heard a howl by the lakeside. I looked around, noticing for the first time the clearing was not lit by the sun, but by the moon. I had been too preoccupied to notice the moon’s changing phase. Turning rapidly towards the lake, I saw my father howling his love at the full moon. The moon’s reflection began to shimmer, and I quickly tried to pull Inesius away. Unfortunately, he was still young enough to be curious instead of cautious. He turned to uncover the source of the strange howl, just as my mother appeared in all her fierce, godly beauty. I watched my first and only love fall down dead, just as I knew he would.


My mother, hearing the thud of the body, grew angry. She turned to me, forcing me into my wolf form. She had arrived early to tell us Zeus had at last agreed to let her stay on Earth. Instead, as a punishment for my bringing a mortal to such a sacred place, my mother put a curse on me, never allowing me to leave my wolf form again. She and my father left me for Mount Olympus, a place I, never able to return to my true, goddess self, was forever banished from. My parents never visited me again, forever leaving me on my island. From that moment on, I spent every full moon by the lake, howling my grief for all I had lost in just one night. I had heard from Poseidon that my howls could be heard across the sea; that the wolves on land howl in response to my pain. Though I could never leave, I was comforted by their sympathy. So great was my grief that wolves around the world still howl for me to this day.

My Dear Lady Timber

My Dear Lady Timber


She is young and she is old.
She has always been there for me, ever changing with the seasons.
Here comes Sir Spring, riding on Sun’s rays to shower her with gifts.


First he gives her a light gown of flowers and fruit.
Then he places a waving veil of grass and leaves upon her head.
She rejoices, dancing with Wind’s cheery song.
All her children come out to greet her, all furry, feathery, and scaly.
She’s ecstatic as she enjoys their company.
Then here comes Summer.


He dries her veil and stomps her dress, but she won’t bend.
It will take more than heat to wither her heart.
But Summer’s passing has aged Lady Timber.
Yet, still her will is strong, for Summer has no strength to defy her.
He moves on to make way for Timber’s next visitor, Fall.


He brings a chill and a new gown spun with gold and copper leaves.
But not even the rain he showers on her can restore her form.
So she has aged still more, but she isn’t ready to give up.
She says good-bye as Winter arrives to greet her.


He presents her with a new gift: a blanket of soft fluff to cover her nakedness.
His gift comes with a price that costs Timber the rest of her youth.
She is old and withered now, and as barren as the moon.
And all her children are grown and deep in sleep
Still, she is very beautiful, as elderly women often are.


Her heart leaps as Sir Spring arrives once again
She bursts out of her gloom and is a young maiden once more.
And so continues the cycle that gives her strength, then takes it back.
It has been this way since I met her, though she intimidated me at first.
I feared her treacherous trails and deadly children, and I dared not visit
her while Summer was around.


Her peaceful melodies, like the rustle of her leaves or Wind’s cheery song, 
can always calm me when I’m upset.
She reveals her secrets to me, but I have given up much time to earn them.
She may be cold and heartless in Winter’s company, but I’ve learned to see
the young maiden underneath.
How could I know such a lovely goddess, you ask?
All I have to do is walk out my door, and there she stands to greet me


My dear Lady Timber

Hope Poem

There are times in our lives when hope is merely a memory.

When peace and comfort seem completely out of you grasp..

When getting out of bed and through the day is a difficult task.

When you can't even remember the last time you felt truly happy

There are times where we are so far in the darkness, we no longer remember light.

Sometimes, we can see no way out of the long tunnel we have traveled down.

Sometimes, there is no salvation from our pain and sorrow to be found.

And sometimes, we seem to be wandering aimlessly in a never-ending night.

These are times every person on this earth will go through.

Things that we fear we will never be able to get past.

Things that we believe will never end and are always going to last.

Things that we think will break our hearts in two.

I myself have been trapped in a despair that never shrunk, only grew.

But I've found the courage to overcome that perpetual murk.

And I've found the strength to dispel the misery and hurt.

Now I've found a way to share a ray of hope with you.

Take a moment of your time to appreciate the little things.

Enjoy the simple pleasure of the sun's rays on your face.

Experience the simple solace of a quiet, shady place.

Simply relax and listen quietly as the mockingbird sings.

Stand outside and let the clear night sky fill your heart with wonder.

Stand by the sea and let the waves wash over your toes.

Stand by a garden and let the flowery aroma fill your nose.

Stand in the rain and listen to the rolling thunder.

Most of all, think about the one you've given all your love.

Think of their love for you shining from their eyes.

Think of the lingering kisses before your goodbyes.

And think of the way they seem like a gift from above.

When you're hope has run dry, their love can end the drought.

When you're filled with pain, their love can ease your heart.

When you're lost in despair, their love can light the dark.

When you're drowning in sorrow, their love pull you out.

There will always be remedy for the pain.

A ray of hope that shines through the clouds.

I will always help you free that smile from misery's shrouds.

And if all the world goes dark, my love for you will always remain.

“Hope, it's just everywhere. There isn’t a single day that one can live without facing hope. But only when you begin to distrust it, will hope abandon you. The second you doubt it’s ability to have faith in you, is that you don’t have faith in yourself.”~ Annonymous

Almera

  The stars were shining brightly in the summer sky. A breeze brought the smell of the ocean to where I sat under the tree. I closed my eyes, enjoying the peace. Strong arms slipped around my waist as I leaned back, listening to the heartbeat of the one I loved.

“Cami,” he whispered. He had a high, feminine voice. “Get up, Cami.”

Puzzled, I turned to look at him. I found myself staring at my little sister.

“Ah!” I jumped back and hit the floor. When I sat up, I was tangled in my covers next to my bed.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Sara, my 10 year-old stepsister, was looking down at me from my bed. I glared at her as I got to my feet.

“You scared the crap out of me! What’s your problem?” Not that she ever needed an excuse to make my life difficult. 

“Nothing,” she answered cheerfully as she bounced off my bed and headed to her room. She stopped in the doorway and added, “Just thought you’d like to know you’re late for school.”

“Yeah, I bet you—” I spun around with one leg in my jeans and shouted, “What!” I stumbled over to my alarm clock, struggling to get my other leg in my pants. “Eight thirty! I’m already a half hour late!”

I sprinted to the bathroom, throwing on a random shirt. After taking care of my teeth and hair, I grabbed my flip-flops and almost tripped down the stairs in my rush. I snatched my bag and car keys off the couch without stopping.

“Stop right there, Camilla!”

I froze with my hand stretched out to the front door. Sighing in frustration, I trudged back through the living room and into the kitchen. Sitting in a bathrobe at the table was Harmony, my stepmother. She was glaring at me with her arms folded.

“May I ask why you were running in my house?”

No, you may not, I thought. Instead, I muttered, “You mean my house.”

Harmony narrowed her eyes. “What was that?”

I bit my lip. I knew better than to provoke her, so I said quickly, “Nothing. Look, I’m late for school, I really need to go—”

“I don’t care if you are!” Harmony interrupted. She stood with her hands on her hips. “This is not a barn, young lady, regardless of what your pathetic father may have taught you. You will walk in this house. I am your guardian, and until you are eighteen you will obey the rules of this house.”

I knew better than to say anything. I knew it would only get me in trouble. I should have just kept my mouth shut and I would have been fine.

I guess my mouth didn’t get the memo.

“That’s right,” I snapped. “I should obey your rules for now. But I should tell you that when I am eighteen and this house will belong to me, you will either be following my rules or looking for another place to—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Harmony slapped me hard across the face. Provoking her again would only lead to another slap, so I merely stood there, hanging my head and clenching my fists. I hadn’t realized I’d dropped my keys until she picked them up and pocketed them.

“I think walking to school might teach you a little about respecting your elders,” she said coldly.

“Fine,” I said through my teeth. I whirled around before she could say anything else and stormed out the front door. I slammed the door hard before taking off running. It was a twenty-minute walk to school and I was already late.

It was a crappy start to a crappy day.

“Well, thank you for joining us, Cami,” my teacher said as I walked into the room. “Class begins at ten after eight, young lady. It is currently eight forty. Do you have an excuse for being so late?”

I groaned. My first hour was history. I hated history, so, naturally, I hated my history teacher. The problem was he was the type of teacher that you would hate no matter what subject he taught.

“I had to walk to school, Mr. Nab, I’m sorry,” I muttered. My teacher just shook his head.

“That’s the third time this week you have been late, and for the same reason.” Mr. Nab scribbled on a slip of paper before handing it to me. I knew what it was, so I snatched out of his hand without reading it and walked quickly to my seat. It’s not like I’d never had detention before.

“Ahem,” Mr. Nab cleared his throat. “As I was saying, even though we called it the Vietnam War, it is referred to as the American War by the Vietnamese. Now, what do you think—”

A knock on the door interrupted him again, causing him to curse. Most of the students snickered. Mr. Nab motioned for them to come in. The door opened to reveal the principal’s secretary leading a young man into the room. 

My first thought was, Holy crap, he’s gorgeous! He was tall, much taller than the teacher. He wasn’t buff, but there were still muscles visible under his blue T-shirt. Dark hair fell in an unruly mass around his face. I didn’t have to turn to figure out that every other girl in the class was also staring at him. While Mr. Nab and the secretary were still talking, the boy turned to stare at me, as if I had done something to call attention to myself. I felt a shiver when our gazes locked.

I caught myself staring at icy blue eyes, and just as cold. I couldn’t believe anyone could have such piercing eyes. Still, my face grew warm from his stare and I quickly looked down. Get a grip, Cami.. I shook my head to clear it just as Mr. Nab cleared his throat again.

“Please give me your attention. And put away that phone, Jeremy,” he snapped at the boy in front of me. “It seems we have a new student. This is…uh…” Mr. Nab turned to the boy. “What did you say your name was?”

The boy laughed softly, making me shiver again, but for a completely different reason. “Call me Kai.”

Mr. Nab raised an eyebrow at the strange name, but he didn’t say anything. “Anyway, have a seat Kai.” My teacher checked his watch and sighed heavily. “And since we only have five minutes of class left, the rest of you can do as you like.”

The buzz of conversation started almost immediately. I wasn’t the only who disliked this class. I tuned them out, though, like I always did. Their drama and gossip didn’t interest me. I had my own problems. So, instead of talking, I decided it would be a good time to continue the book I had been reading. My bag was slung over the back of my chair, so I had to turn around to get into it. I didn’t notice anyone was there until a hand appeared in front of my face. Startled as I was, I wasn’t thinking clearly and made the mistake of looking up to find Kai’s ice-blue eyes staring at me.

He chuckled a bit at my expression. “Did I startle you?”

I blinked a few times before answering, “Yes.” Ignoring him, I went to grab my book again. Unfortunately, my hand was shaking, and I ended up dropping it on the floor once I got it out. I started to reach down for it, sighing, but Kai was a bit quicker.

He held the book out to me, barely repressing a smile.

I just sat there and stared at him. I couldn’t help feeling like I was being an idiot, but something about him made me want to avoid touching him.

Sighing, he placed the book in my hand and sat down at the desk behind me. “I don’t bite, you know,” he said, pouting a bit. “You don’t even know me and you’re treating me like a leper.”

I bit my lip. He was right. I didn’t know him. Here I was acting like he was some sort of criminal when I’d only just met him. All because I didn’t like the look in his eyes. 

I turned to him, smiling apologetically. “I’m, um, sorry about how I just acted. I’ve kind of had a bad morning. You know how parents can be sometimes.”

Kai just shrugged, then leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Not really. I don’t have any parents.”

I was speechless for a few seconds. “Oh…I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”  

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, grinning. “I was too young to remember them anyway. What are your parents like?”

“Parent,” I corrected him reluctantly. I didn’t like to talk about Harmony, or my family life.

“Oh?” Kai tilted his head. “So you’re parents are divorced?”

“Um, I do live with my step-mom, but my parents weren’t divorced.”

Kai was suddenly a bit more attentive. He leaned forward to rest his chin in his hands. “So if your parents weren’t divorced, how do you have a step-mom?”

I sighed. “My mother- my real mother- died when I was barely old enough to remember her. At least, that’s what the police told us probably happened.”

Kai cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘probably’?”

“Well…” I hesitated. I always hated telling people this because they always acted like they didn’t believe me. Most of the time I just made something up, but I didn’t think it could hurt to tell him the truth. “My dad told me I was only three years old when it happened. I guess he and Mom were walking around the park. They each were holding one of my hands and I was walking between them.” I paused for a second, a few images of that day flashing in my mind. 

        “So what happened?” Kai asked. His question startled me a bit and reminded me of what I was doing.

“I guess it was around sunset when they finally decided to go home. Dad told me that was when Mom started to get a little anxious. I sort of remember that because I recall telling her she was squeezing my hand and it hurt. Dad said he’d noticed her glancing at the shadows a lot, so he asked her if everything was okay. He told me he would never forget the way she looked when she answered him. She looked defiant and resigned at the same time. Like…she knew something was going to happen...” I stopped again, blinking.

Kai tilted his head. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I said slowly. 

Several seconds went by before Kai asked impatiently, “What is it?”

I shook my head, clearing it. “Nothing,” I answered. “Anyway, when Dad asked her that, she said, ‘You have nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine soon.’” 

As I chewed on my lip thoughtfully, the bell rang.

As usual, everyone was rushing to get out the door. I decided to stay in my seat for a minute, not wanting to get trampled. A heavy sigh told me Kai was apparently doing the same thing.

“Is this how class always ends?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

I shrugged, surprised to find myself smiling. “More or less. It’s a lot worse during fourth period.” I stood up and grabbed my bag from the back of my chair and waited for Kai to do the same.

“Oh? Why is that?” He seemed genuinely curious, which seemed a bit weird to me but I ignored it. “Fourth period is right before lunch,” I explained as we followed the throng of students out into

the hall. “So what’s your number?”

He blinked. “My…number?” He was looking at me like I’d just asked him for the meaning of life. The first thing that popped into my head was, God, he looks even better when he’s confused. 

Shaking my head, partly out of amazement and partly to clear it, I said, “You’re locker number. Where’s your locker?” 

Kai smacked his forehead. “Locker, right. Um, I believe it’s 237. Although,” he continued thoughtfully, “I have no idea where it is.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I know exactly where it is,” I said.

“You do? Well, that’s just wonderful.” He gave me a huge smile, the same one that made me shiver earlier. He didn’t look surprised at all now.

“Yeah,” I said, suppressing a groan. “It’s right next to mine.”

“Cami!” My head snapped up.  “Would you please lift your head and pay attention? Or would you rather stay after class?” Mr. Lansing, my seventh hour grammar teacher, was staring at me with his hands on his hips. 

Well, what he had of hips. Mr. Lansing wasn’t exactly small. He didn’t know it, but the students called him Bruno behind his back. Something to do with how much he looked like his bulldog.

“Well? Are you going to answer me?”

I shook my head a bit. I’d been nodding off the whole hour. I was always like that in grammar. It being the last hour of the day coupled with the fact that it was an incredibly boring class didn’t help me to stay awake. I was particularly drained anyway.

“Uh, sorry, Mr. Lansing,” I said, stifling a yawn. He just rolled his eyes and turned back to the board. I guess he’d been asking me to tell him if the sentence was written right or something like that.

“Psst, Cami.” The person behind me was apparently trying to get my attention. I already knew who it was, and I didn’t feel like talking to him.

Kai was the reason I was so drained. We only had two classes together, but he always managed to be at his locker at the same time I was at mine. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t help but feel tense around him. It was probably nerves from being around such a gorgeous guy, but I couldn’t help thinking that it might have been something else. His smiles seemed real, and his comments were innocent enough. It was just something about his eyes—they always seemed to give me a weird feeling. 

I couldn’t help staying tensed until I’d made it to my next class and was sitting safely at my desk. Then I’d finally let out a big sigh and relaxed. I did that for five hours, excluding lunch—I took my tray to the library and tried to catch up on some reading.

So, needless to say, I was a bit tired, and it was making me irritable. 

Closing my eyes, I hissed through my teeth, “Are you trying to get me in trouble?” 

“Of course not,” he whispered in my ear. I jumped, startled by how close his voice was to me. “I just had a question.”

I sighed heavily. Leave it to him to bother me with something trivial. He’d been doing it all day. Whether it was asking what the weather was usually like around here or if I thought marshmallows tasted better roasted. I mean, what kind of questions were those? Granted, I did answer him—and yes, marshmallows taste way better roasted—but I was just trying to be friendly.

“What is it this time?” He lightly tapped my shoulder, and I turned my head slightly to see why. He was holding a folded piece of paper in his hand. I quickly grabbed it. “I thought you said you weren’t trying to get me in trouble!” I whispered fiercely.

“I’m not,” he whispered back. “Oh, and I guess I have two questions.”

I glanced up front to see if Mr. Lansing had noticed anything yet. Thankfully, he was lecturing one of the kids in the front row on the faults of iPods. “Well?” I asked as I turned back around. “What did you want to know?”

Kai sat back and thought for a second. I ground my teeth, glancing at the front of the room nervously every few seconds. 

“I was thinking, since you had to walk to school today, that I should take you home.”

I spun around, my mouth open. “Did I hear you right?” I asked a bit too loudly. Some of the students stared at me.

Kai nodded and put a finger to his lips to remind me to stay quiet. I leaned towards him a bit, lowering my voice again. “Why on earth would you want to take me home? I mean, you just met me. Besides, I have detention,” I added in annoyance, having temporarily forgotten. 

He shrugged. “I was in the office when you signed in late. Seems you live pretty far to be walking to school.” He’s right about that, I thought. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let you walk back home.” He gave me one of those smiles that made me doubt his motives, but distracted me all the same.

“But you don’t even know where I live,” I argued, shaking my head a little.

“That was actually my second question.” Kai dug around in his bag. “Just write your address. I’m sure I could find it.” He held out a piece of scrap paper.

I just stared at him for a second, wondering if he was serious or not. When he didn’t move, I just shrugged and took the piece of paper. I used my own pencil to write down my address, along with a short description of my house. 

When I was finished, I handed it back to him, making sure the teacher wasn’t paying attention. 

“Well, isn’t this convenient,” I heard Kai whisper. I turned around to look at him, raising an eyebrow. His gaze met mine, his blue eyes dancing. “It seems we are more than just locker neighbors,” he explained with a grin.

I tilted my head. “What exactly are you saying?”

Kai rolled his eyes. “I’m saying,” he started, writing on another slip of paper and handing it to me, “that I live right next door to you.”

I stared at the address he had written down. He was right. It was the address of the house next door to us. 

“This is all starting to sound a bit too convenient to me,” I muttered. To Kai, I said, a bit sarcastically, “I suppose there’s no reason for me to say no, since you live next door to me and all.”

“Great!” He smiled widely, though it looked wrong somehow. “See you after detention,” he said as he started to get up.

“Hey, what are you—” The bell interrupted me. I checked the clock and was a bit surprised that I hadn’t even noticed the time. When I turned to ask Kai why he didn’t tell me it was almost time to go, he was already gone.

“I swear, that boy is really starting to irritate me.” Sighing, I grabbed my bag and hurried out the door, insanely wishing detention lasted longer.