Waves were rolling up onto the shore. The moon was high and full, and along with the stars, made the water sparkle beautifully. She carried her sandals in one hand and had her other arm wrapped around his waist. She was wearing a light blue cardigan and black jeans embroidered with blue and green flowers. He was wearing jeans and a nice button down blue shirt. During dinner they had been the picture perfect couple. Both were fifteen, sophomores at the local high school and they had known each other all of their lives. It was a true story of high school sweethearts -- young and free. They walked along slowly, allowing their bare feet to sink into the sandy beach and the breeze ruffled her hair. She shivered as a cool wind blew off the water, and he pulled her closer to him. Soon he pulled her away from the waves.

Both of them knew this deserted stretch of beach like the backs of their hands. They had come here during the summers when they were younger to climb these very rocks. Here was where they had learned to swim. On this very stretch of beach was where they had first kissed. This is where they now came to be alone on their one year anniversary. He sat down and she leaned against him. For the moment she was content to simply be in his arms and sighed happily before she closed her eyes.

"I have something for you," he whispered.

She sat up and watched as he pulled a rectangular box from his pocket. He handed it to her and when she opened it, she felt her eyes tear. Inside was a small gold locket, on the surface of which was inscribed 'Love is Forever.' Inside were two pictures; one of each of them. He leaned over and fastened the locket around her neck.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she replied.

They kissed. Sweet and gentle just like that first kiss a year ago. Soon they were kissing harder, urgently. His hand was under her cardigan and he shivered at her touch. He pulled away and then kissed her softly, "Is this ok?" he asked. She nodded and he kissed her again -- hard and urgent. He unbuttoned her cardigan and removed his shirt. They were kissing still, he moved his mouth down to her breasts and she shivered at his kisses. He moved his mouth once again to hers and his hand moved slowly down her body. Soon he was trying to unbutton her jeans and she gently moved his hand away as she always did. But this time he moved it back. Once again she moved it away, but again it found its way back.

"Stop it, that's not funny," she said.

"What? Don't you want tonight to be special?" he asked.

"It is special," she whispered.

"But this is going to make it more so," he said insistently.

"No, I don't want to," she said.

"Yes you do, you'll see," he replied.

"Stop," she said growing scared.

"What? We've been together a year, and I love you. I am tired of waiting, don't you love me?" he asked fiercely.

"I do love you, you know that, but I can't. . ."

"Yes you can, you know that you want it."

"Please stop," she said starting to cry.

"You want it. You owe me it," he said angrily.

She tried to scream but he put his hand over her mouth so hard that she flinched. She was trying to get away from him but he was bigger, and had her pinned. He slapped her when she tried to bite his hand.

"Shut up," he seethed, "shut up or you will just make it worse."

She cried. She stopped screaming because it was useless, they were on a deserted beach; there was no one for miles. She could hear the waves now, but they were no longer the safe rolling waves she had learned to swim in. They were crashing down, loud and menacing. Through her tears she did her best to distance herself from her body; the pain and humiliation. After what seemed an eternity to her, though it had probably been no more than a few minutes, he got off her and dressed himself.

"See that wasn't so bad now, was it," he asked with a smug smile on his face.

He stood and looked down at her frail and half naked bruised form, "Get up. We're leaving. It is almost your curfew." She simply laid there shaking and crying.

"I am going to leave, get up!" he shouted. Still she didn't move.

"Fine, stay. See if I care," he snarled and walked off.

Eventually she sat up and got dressed. As she was buttoning up her cardigan she felt her neck and realised that the locket was missing. She started to feel in the sand for it and when she found it she sat and looked at it for a long time. She stared and cried. Soundlessly she cried, looking at what she had lost that night. Slowly she closed her eyes and felt the locket slip from her hand. Her whole body hurt and she was not sure if she was bleeding or not, though she was afraid she wouldn't be able to walk. However, she wanted nothing more than to be away from that place. She forced herself to stand and half stumbled, half walked away from the beach. She had no idea where she was going or what she would do when shegot there but all she knew was that she couldn't go home, she could never go home again. So she walked. . .

"We found her four years ago, just wondering the streets." said the nurse. The doctor looked at the girl in the bed. She was awake though she was crying and squirming as if trying to get away from something, though she never left the bed. She had just awoke screaming and the nurse had called the doctor after giving her a tranquilizer. She slept most of the day and anytime she woke it was screaming and she was given a tranquilizer. Then she would fall asleep a few hours later only to wake screaming and needing once again to be sedated.

"Who is she?" he asked.

"A Jane Doe," the nurse replied," we found her four years ago, as I said. We suspect that she had been raped and beaten. We could not find any identification on her, and she has not said a word in those four years here."

"Can she hear us?" he asked.

"We are not sure. The only noise she ever makes is when she wakes up every night screaming, as if from some horrible dream, though we don't know anything about it."

"Can you hear me?" he asked her, "Blink if you can hear me."

She stared blankly, still writhing, trying to get away, away from herself, her body, this pain and humiliation. Of course I can hear you, but I won't talk. I cannot tell you what happened. I hear you talking, the pity you feel for me. You will never know what really happened, the shame is too much to bare. Every night I will be woke by this nightmare, the one I try to escape but can't. That memory will linger, and so will the shame and humiliation. For the rest of my life I will be awoke with that memory, as clear as the night it happened. I can never trust anyone to understand or stay with me. I will never speak again.

Here is another story...one that has no ending yet...any ideas would be welcome:

She  ran her fingertips lightly over the surface.  Wherever they touched she
produced tiny ripples, ripples that edged further and further from her. 
Further from the source of their life, their maker.  Further and Further
away they edged, how she envied them.  The freedom they had to move, on and
away and never look back, never think ahead.  That had always been her
problem, unable to forget the pat, and unable to stop thinking  of the
future.  She was a dreamer, but very skeptical and remorseful.  Some said
those could not coexist, she had learned long ago that they could, but such
a contradicting personality was hard to live with.  Her dreams were plaqued
by skepticism.  Everytime she decided to fulfill one she would think oof how
it would never work, and so go back to her life and let yet another dream
slip by, unbeknownst to anyone but herself.  She rarely ever told anyone of
them, since they were all doomed in her mind she thought it better to spare
the embarassment.  Always living in the past, or the future, never the
present.  She had found living in the pressent too hard, it took to much
strength.  Living in the present would make her face the world, something
she found harder everyday that past.  She was still able to force her boddy
to be there, but her mind never was.  No one knew what went on behind her
smiling face.  Not even her husband knew, at one point she had prided
herself on that fact.  She kept a certain distance away and no one got hurt,
especially not her.  She had often fdreamed of finding someone, someone she
could tell her dreams to.  Someone whom she could love and who would love
her.  Someone who would know how she felt, where her mind was, just by
looking at her.  Yet that was just another dream destined to be unrealised,
though once not for failure to try.  After the first few tries she realisd
that that didn't exist, and left it at that.  It wasn't that she didn't love
her husband, she did, very much.  But it wasn't that kind of love, he was
kind to her and he could be very romantic, but she couldn't bring herself to
tell him even one of her dreams, and he could never tell what she was
feeling.  He was good to her though, that was all she could ask.  She
thought back over various one-night stands, people wwho had been her friends
only to have those friendships end when the night was over.  Some she had
tried to tell her dreams, some had even pretented to care, but all hurt her
in the end.  She had decided that settling on her husband was best.  She
looked down at the address in her hand.  She had thought about doing this
for a long time.  She smiled thinking of all the talks they had had.  When
everyone else in the house was asleep.  She would call him and they would
talk for hours on end.  They talked about everything and anything.  he was
the one she told her dreams too, the one who listened.  No matter how silly
or stupid her drea he always encouraged her to try for it, but as of yet she
never had.  She looked at the address again and then back at the house.  The
sun was starting to rise and she knew her husband would be up in a couple of
hours and would findher note.  She wasn't sure he would understand it right
away, but hoped someday he would.  She picked up her siuitcases and put them
in the car.  She got in and started the motor, then looked back again at the
house.  Doing so almost made her stop, but she looked at the address in her
hand again and remembered what she had written in that note:
    " It's time I stopped living in the past and the future, and time i
started living in the present."

She had meant it when she wrote it and she still did.  She drove out of the
driveway and left, never looking back.

And so she drove.  She wasn't sure how long or how far.  All she knew was
she had to keep going, keep heading south.  She knew it would take her at
least two and probably three days to get to her destination. From there who
knows.  Maybe she'd stay there for awhile, maybve he'd laugh in her face and
she'd leave.  She pulled into a little McDonald's and sat in the car, breifl
paralysed by that thought.  What if he did laugh, tell her what a foolish
girl she was.  Maybe she should save him the trouble and change her
destination now.  She thought of going to stay with her sister, but slowly
pulled herself away from that thought and got out of the car.  After
stretching her legs and getting a luinch to take with her, she found a pay
phone and dialed his number.  She was going on hope that he wouldn't be
home, and she was in luck. After telling his answering machine that she
would be there in a couple days she hung up, got int hte car and drove away. 
She drove the rest of that day and for the next two days.  Only stopping for
food or drink, or to sleep a few hours before being on her way again.  She
did make a quick stop at her sister's, just to tell her where she weas going
so that they wouldn't worry.
    Here she was, three days after that early morning merely minutes ffrom
the address on the now crumpled peice of paper in her hand.  She had called
him from a near-by gas station to make sure he was home, and now she slowly
pulled her car in front of his house and looked at the front door. 
Hesitantly, she stepped out of the car and walked up to that door.  Before
she could knock the door opened and there he was.
"I saw you pull up.  How are you?" he asked softly.
"Fine," she replied.  Then she turned around,"I should go this was a
mistake, I won't bother you again."
She felt a hand gently gripping hers, "Don't be silly, at least  come in
before deciding," his hand held hers firmly but gently as he guided her into
the house.  She allowed ehrself to be guided into the living room and sat on
the couch he pointed to.  Her mind was blank as he got them drinks and sat
down next to her.
"Now," he said genttly,"tell me why you are here."
She spoke slowly, almost without feeling of that early morning, and of the
night before.  She told him of her decision to finally realise  at least one
of her dreams, seeing him. Being with him.  At the mention of the last thing
she thought he would pull back.  Put on his facade of detachment and tell
her she should go home, but he didn't.  Instead he put an arm around her
shoulders, stroking her cheek with his other hand and slowly and tenderly
kissed her.   
   She pulled back with surprise.  For months she had dreamed of all of
this.  Of seeing him, being here with him, his kiss.  And now it was
happening, and she didn't know what to do.  So many emotions flooded her,
and she cried.  She sat and cried and he pulled her gently towards him and
held her.  Craddling her like a child, he soothed her and lt her cry her
tears.  She couldn't rememeber how long she had cried, or when she fell into
her  fitfull sleep.  When she woke it was dark.  She was lying in bed, still
completely clothed except for her shoes.
   As she stretched  her arms sleepily she felt a warm touch on her cheek. 
She opened her eyes slowly and looked up.  There he was, sittting on the
edge of the bed looking down at her and smiling.  She pulled herself up into
a sitting position and looked back at him.
"How you feeling?" he asked her handing her a cup of tea.
"Drained," she replied smiling a little," I am sorry about all this." She
gestured around her, "I hate to inconvenience you."
"Shhh, no inconvenience at all," he said smiling," you know I am always here
for you."
She nodded and swung her legs off the bed," Well I guess I should go find a
place to stay.  Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"
He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes,"Stay here," he
whispered kissing her lips softly,"with me."
She blushed turning away,"I don't want to impose."  As she said this she
looked around and saw her bags were already sitting on the floor.  He placed
his hand under her chinand pulled her head around to face him. "You once
told me you wanted to fall asleep in my arms, and I figure that now is as
good a time as any."
With that he pulled her to her feet and slowly began removing her clothing,
kissing her softly as he did.  She closed her eyes enjoying his lips, his
touch.  When she was left standing in only her panties, he too began to
undress.
"I can't have sex with you," she whispered.
"Shhh," came his reply, "I know, I just want to feel you against me, to kiss
you as we fall asleep."
He pulled back the covers and layed down, motioning for her to join him. 
She did.  And they lay there kissing softly.  It was a kiss of long time
lovers, ones who knew each other, not the hungry passion of strangers.  As
she fell asleep in his arms she couldn't help but wonder what the furture
held in store for her.
She awoke the next morning, but he was not next to her.  She assumed he had
gone to work and got up, busying herself with her morning routine.  She
looked in her suitcases but, not feeling like dressing just yet, pulled on a
flannel robe she found hanging in the bathroom and walked toward the
kitchen.  Halfway there she saw him come out of the kitchen walking towards
her.  
"Get back in bed," he told her,"now"
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but did as he told her and
slid back under the covers.  About fifteen minutes later she saw him coming
toward her with a tray in her hands.
"Breakfast is served," he said smiling.  She couldn't believe he was
bringing her breakfast in bed.  No-one had ever done that for her.  She
smiled and a tear slipped down her cheek.
"You shouldn't have. . ." was all she got out.
He reached up and wiped the tear from her eye, "Shhh.." he said,"I wanted
to."
She reached for her fork and began eating, wondering why he was not at work. 
As if reading her mind he smiled and told her he had taken a week off.  He
wanted to spend it with her, help her figure things out.  She protested
slightly, saying she had figured it out adn that was why she was here.  He
kissed her softly and said the still needed to talk about it, together.
"So, I guess I can't stay here huh? It was a little foolish of me to think I
could. . ." she trailed off unsure of what to say.
"Stop that," he told her, "I said no such thing, only that in the end I
don't think you will want to stay with me."
"But. . ." she started, "I love you, you know that."
He started to mutter something under his breath but she interuppted him and
asked what he was saying.
" We are but men, amigo.  We are not gods, but any man can be a god or a
hero to a woman if he does not stay to long.  Then she sees he is but a man,
who gets up in the morning and puts his pants on, one leg at a time like any
other man.  She sees him sour and unshaven, she sees him bleary from
weariness or too much drink.  But me? Ah, amigo! She remembers me!  Always
shaved!  Always clean!  Always riding the pretty horse twirling his
moustaches." As he finished the quote he waited for her reaction.
"Fuentes," she said softly.
"Excuse me?"
"The quote, Tony Fuentes, from L'amour's  The Man From Broken Hills."
"I am impressed," he said smiling down at her," but eat.  I am going to clean
 up, we can talk about this later."
She started to eat as he walked back out of the room.  When she'd finished
eating she got up and dressed and went to help him clean.  She saw him
vacuuming and stood in the doorway, just watching him.
He looked up and saw her.  He shut off the vacuum cleaner and started
putting it away.
"What can I do?" she asked.
"Sit while I put this away, then we will talk."
"At least let me help you clean since I am imposing on you and all."
He took her hand and led her to the couch,"Sit," he ordered," I am done
cleaning for today and we need to talk."
Nodding, she sat and waited for him to return.  As she did she tried to
anticiate his words, but it was useless.  She had no idea what he would say.
He came back in, set a cup of soda on the table and sat next to her.
"Why?"
She was startled.  She hadn't expected so small and simple a question. 
"Because. . ." she trailed off.  Why had she done it, she wondered.  She
loved this man.  A man who until the morning before had been only a voice on
the phone.  Was that why she gave up her other life?  For a man she had
never "met" who probably didn't even want her there? Not that the life she
had left behind was anything.  A husband who was more like a casual friend,
though he had treated her well.  A life she wasn't in, dreams she never
tried, and failures she could never give up.  She traded that to a chance a
man she had never met could feel for her what she felt for him.  Maybe it
was a fair trade, but how to explain to him? How could she tell him, why?
So she started talking, telling him what she had figured out.  By the end he
only looked more confused so she found any easier way.
"Because I love you, and i don't love him or that life."
"You make it sound so simple," he said,"life isn't that simple."
"If you don't want me here, say so.  I will go with no hard feelings."
He smiles," First, you forget i know you, there would be hard feelings you
would just try and hide them.  Second, I never said I didn't want you here,
but as I said before you may not want to stay."
"Why?" she countered.
"Touche."
She wondered if he would actually tell her the real reason.

(To Be Continued {I hope})

And here is my latest story, I would appreciate any opinions you have since i am not really sure how i feel about it:

	She looked around the bedroom, with everything laid out so straight. 
She glanced at the tray in front of her.  One hundred perfect circles, lined
up one after another.  She had counted so carefully, not one more and not
one less.  She had to use them all.  Near her were two shiny metal pieces
and a bowl.  She hoped she wouldn't need them, but if the circles weren't
enough than she would have too.
	Shakily she changed into her nightgown and laid the notes on the
nightstand.  One of them she knew wouldn't be read for years, but she
couldn't live with herself if she didn't leave it.  She had to laugh a
little at the futilness of that thought.  Nonetheless, it stayed with the
rest of them.  She just hopes someday everyone would understand.
	She sat on the bed, a picture of her family in her lap.  Slowly she
traced their faces. Look at us...so happy she whispered  
what happened?
	But that was a rhetorical question and there was no-one to answer
her anyway.  She knew what had gone wrong -- she had.  She tried to imagine
what it must have been like for him.  He had to watch her torture herself,
deteriorate slowly and then recover suddenly, only to deteriorate yet again. 
He never knew who she would be from one day to the next, or what bruises
(mental, physical, and emotional) he would from her self-abuse.  She hated
to imagine what he had been through, and would never forgive herself, but
now she didn't have too.
	She had stepped to the edge.
	She sat on the bed, a pill in one hand and a glass of water in the
other.  She apologised to them all, not for what she was about to do but for
what she had already done.
	She brought the pill to her lips, teetering on the edge, when she
heard a tiny cry.  That cry pulled her away from the edge.  All the pills
returned to their bottle, and that along with the blades and the bowl
returned to her dresser.  Hidden under her clothing where no-one else would
look.  Again the tiny cry.
	As she walked away from the edge she was afraid to look back.  She
knew she'd be back and that time the cry may not be there to pull her back. 
As she left her room she wondered when that day would be, then all thoughts
left her as she concentrated on soothing her baby girl.

A flock flies by
Slowly soaring above my head
A perfect "V"
Each one in it's place
And a place for each 
I watch them
Soon they are merely specks in the sky
I turn to look away when something catches my eye
Another bird?
The lone stragler, with no place
Strangly he doesn't seem worried
Going along, setting his own pace
Thoughts run through my head
Poor bird, all alone, no friends
Then I laugh
Maybe he likes being alone
Maybe he doesn't want to conform 
Many pity the lone stagler
But not I
He is not to be pitied
But admired
Not a sad site
But a courageous one
A martyr and a hero
The lone eagle flies on
Soon overtaking the flock of crows


Trust
fucking Trust
so hard to Trust
once you have been betrayed
once you put your front on 
it's hard to take down ---
everything is funny and you are laughing
laughing so they all think you are happy
but when they are gone
so is the laughter ---
there are always tears on the inside
but when there is no laughing to hide behind
the tears overflow and run down your cheeks ---
but wait they are coming back
hurry hide the tears ---
laughing once again ---
and Trust
fucking fake Trust


She is numb
Numb with the effort of forgetting
All pain is gone
Except that deep within her
The burning ache that never goes away
He left it there
And no one can stop it
She looked at the empty bottles
damn those over the counter pain killers
She should have known they wouldn't work
All that money wasted. . .
She had watched them disappear
As one after another they slipped down her throat
One after another until she was so numb
She couldn't lift her arms anymore
But the ache wouldn't leave
Nothing could numb it
She felt herself slipping down on the floor
She was afriad of sleep
Too much time to dream, uncontrolled dreams
But she found she welcomed it now
Because somewhere, in the back of her mind
She knew this time. . .
There would be no dreams



 the hand reaches out . . .
 slowly reaching out to touch
 touch the cold
		hard
		     metal
the hand recoils involutarily
body and mind no longer together
now at war
the great civil war
mind fighting to be free
	free of body
		free of pain
body fighting for unity
	unity of soul
		unity of life
the war wages on
mind forcing body forward
forward to the cold
		   hard
			metal
body is losing
	      losing
	            losing
mind watches as body struggles
struggles against mind
but mind is strong
and this time body can't recoil
the hand closes over the cold
			      hard
				   metal
pulling ever closer
body weakens
eyes close
gun to temple
mind watches
then the explosion
mind has won
	it is FREE


 Email me  any ideas or
comments you have.

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