The Russians know how to do a good park.  Their winning formula is simple: Bold, well-sculpted statues, bombastic God-save-the-tsar or Long-live-the-party rhetoric on every plaque, and incredibly huge open spaces.  We're talking open space so big it'll bend your camera lens.  So big you want to yell and wait for an echo.  So big it would make the Great Plains look like a shoe-box diorama (okay, maybe I got carried away here, but you get the idea).

Here, giant parks are only natural; Russia is a big place, after all.  The biggest, in fact.  Not only that, but the tsars always had a thing for extravagant splendor and were able to indulge their whims to unheard-of extremes, unencumbered by funding or manpower thanks to serfdom and a weak noble class.

Nowhere is this more pronounced than in St. Petersburg, Peter the Great's "Window on Europe."  He wanted something impressive, and with limitless expanses of open swampland and hundreds of thousands of poor sops conscripted to do the grunt work (it is estimated that between 100,000 and 300,000 people died just during the initial construction). The staggering results can be witnessed at the Summer Gardens, Mikhaylovsky Gardens, Tavricheskiy Gardens and the Field of Mars, to name a few Petersburg parks.

When the Soviets came to power, they had a similar agenda for public building projects: shock and awe. They drew on a patriotic naming scheme (Park of Victory, etc.) rather than religious imagery, but the scale was just as large and the monuments just as forceful.

It beats the crap out of Peace Park back in Madison, Wisc.

[caption id="attachment_198" align="aligncenter" width="312" caption="The eternal flame at the Soldiers of the Revolution memorial. Mothers, keep an eye on your kids."][/caption]

]]> http://ephesians.wordpress.com/?p=655 Thu, 04 Sep 2008 00:50:02 +0000 peacefulone http://ephesians.es.wordpress.com/2008/09/04/praying-for-fire-by-elaine-davenport-thursday-september-4-2008/

IT’S PAST TIME FOR US TO TALK SOME RELENTLESS TALK TO SOME PEOPLE ABOUT JESUS AND SHOW THEM SOME SIGNS AND WONDERS!

Settle [it] therefore in your hearts, not to meditate before what ye shall answer: For I will give you a mouth and wisdom, which all your adversaries shall not be able to gainsay nor resist. Luke 21: 14,15

Blessings, Dear friend! How are you doing? I pray that this note finds you well. I really care. Everyday I pray for you because you are so critically important to the body of Christ. You do make a difference with your efforts and your pure heart. You know, God has called so many people forth to pray and to make a difference and while some are thinking about it, analyzing it and dissecting it; you came forth and have stayed. God is pleased. I just wrote to you to tell you that your good efforts are noted and that there is much to do. However, I’m not concerned in anyway because “we” can handle it! There is a bigger homeless problem than the world talks about. I’m not being presumptuous, I have a question for you and for myself:

WHAT ARE “WE” DOING ABOUT THE KINGDOM HOMELESS?

You know…the people who right now have no residence in heaven. What are we doing about them? They’re all around us, we’ve got to get to work. We must be relentless!

Relentless means: being persistent, unyielding, insistent, inexorable which means: uncompromising, unstoppable, unavoidable and changeable. Have you been this way about the Gospel? If you have, then you’ve got to help somebody else.

There There is a fire that burns on the inside of every believer. Inside of you and inside of me. Sometimes it is raging out of control. It gives us a passion to tell others about God, about Jesus and about the Holy Ghost! We want to tell them about salvation and healing and wholeness and some more good stuff that will set them free. We want to give them hope for the future and to tell them about victory; but they literally don’t want to hear it sometimes. I’ve watched people and they will listen to stuff that they hate; but they definitely don’t want to hear me talk about God. It feels like they are throwing water on my fire and trying to put it out. But, I don’t go by “feelings”. Smile. Over time that wears away at you if you aren’t careful and you’ll find yourself being selective about who you tell. Well that’s what the enemy wants and so I won’t do it.

I want to encourage you to prepare yourself to take God’s message to the far corners of the earth…(and even next door) Make that Word intense and lively when you speak it! If it is dull and unexciting to us…it will be the same for the people who hear us talk. First, get your ammunition, get in the Word and get clear on this! If you’ve got it down pat…help somebody else. You won’t have to go far, I assure you!

There’s also a fire that burns in side of every unbeliever. We’ve just got to help them get that fire going. They’re unsure, uncertain, doubtful, hesitant, indecisive, undecided because they are waiting for YOU to cross their path and SAY SOMETHING!

I recently sent a letter to two people in the mail telling them about the LORD. They were two people who have faced multiple challenges and I was sure that they would throw the letter away and never read it. Imagine my surprise when they called and said: “What should we do next?”

We have to be prepared to tell them what to do next. I sure learned a lesson there, smile. I just want to tell you: Don’t let them (anyone who doesn’t want to hear your words) throw water on your fire and if they do…rekindle it right away! YOU HAVE AN ETERNAL FLAME! I love you and be Blessed fellow officer in the LORD’s army!

LET'S PRAY FOR FIRE!

“Oh yeah,” David said.

Melissa laughed. She was positively happy in that moment, sometimes feeling the need to be in moments like those. She was happy just then, and felt no reason to hide her feelings.

She leaned on David’s shoulder, taking her drink, and thanking the woman, before turning to David. “So you and Dyle have a good day hon?” she asked sweetly, batting her eyes at him. She did not mind being flirtatious when it really meant nothing. When it started to mean something that was when Melissa got scared.

“We had a bit of a domestic disturbance that was hard on Dyle, but he’s a strong one, you know that.”

Melissa nodded a little. “Our big case of the day had Rico a little dazed, odd enough,” she said shaking her head. Both of them had partners who pushed a little too hard. “Geez David, we both have such good guys on our side.”

“I agree, we do…wish they’d just hook up though.”

Melissa burst into a fit of laughter, still hugging to David’s shoulder. She walked with him back to the table and sat down, drink in hand. No sooner did she sit down however, then did she hear the soft strands of music beginning to play.

The music playing on the far side of the room seemed to get a little louder, catching Melissa’s attention. Lissy looked over at it, trying to focus on the soft strands playing. The music seemed to help take away her thoughts.

“Hey Lissy, dance with me?” David’s words broke through her train of thought, which was confused soft and moving fast. She looked at him, feeling hot and flushed knowing that she must look dumb, staring at him and gaping. It wasn’t that it was rare for David to do such things, it was just that it had surprised her.

His eyes were shining as he looked at her, and Melissa could only nod a little bit. Once again she reminded herself that David had done things like ask her to dance before .She didn’t know why she was so freaked out, but today was an odd one.

He took her hand and led her out to the part of the bar that was made into a little dance floor. There was a sleek wooden flooring, slightly raised from the other floor, a small step up and there were a few couples on it dancing.

He pulled her against him, in a gentle and fluid motion. Melissa closed her eyes, trying to listen to the words to the music, to make her forget the sharp pounding in her ears caused by her heart which had been sent into a whirl by David’s touch.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Rico and Dyle still sitting at the table. Dyle touched Rico’s arm lightly and pointed to Melissa and David. Rico laughed a little. She could only imagine what the boys were saying about the two of them.

Melissa held tightly to David, looking up into his beautiful eyes. They were green, very green, like something you would see in a lush tropical forest. He smiled like he was having the time of his life.

She kept looking out of the corner of her eye at Rico and Dyle, out of nerves. Simple nerves behind here with the man she loved more than anything, her David. Rico and Dyle were laughing and then Dyle took Rico’s hand. It was so surreal. It was a fact of life that Rico and Dyle belonged together, just as she and David did .

The day was surreal, like a dream.

She closed her hand around David’s bigger one, wanting to slip into this surreal life and never let go of it. She let her head fall against his broad shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist and it felt like everything was just slipping together. It just felt comfortable when they were together. It had always been comfortable from the day they had met, when they were together. They had been the same since they met.

Her corner view once again caught Rico and Dyle. They were laughing, both talking with wild gestures. Then Dyle said something, soft and suggestive and Rico smiled in response. Dyle grabbed Rico’s hand and they walked playfully onto the dancefloor. They were on the other side, but Melissa had to gasp when she saw Rico’s arm snake around Dyle’s waist. Sure it was just playful but it always sent a rush through her to see her favorite boys together.

“Hey David, look.”

She swirled her partner around so that David could get a good look at the sight in front of them. He turned his head and grinned. “Melissa that’s adorable.” She nodded against his chest and held even tighter. The music picked up pace and she felt her head swimming.

“They are adorable,” she said dreamily, looking up into David’s eyes and then away.

The lights cut out then, a loud sound deafening to her.

Respiath raised a hand and for some reason I instantly understood his command. I stripped off the general’s shirt, leaving his chest bare. Still a woman, I could not keep my hands from running over the smooth skin, admiring the way it pulled tight over a significant amount of muscle. “What do you think of the name Bethyi, Syiath?” Respiath asked in a conversational tone as he took a knife out of it’s sheath.

Both of our attentions turned to that knife, as was my father’s intention. It was a sharp silver blade that jutted out from an intricate golden sheath. It was obviously something ancient and beyond what a human would ever wield, and it left us both in awe.

Syiath snapped out of it before I did, because my eyes were locked on the knife when I heard him speak next. “It’s a very lovely name, befitting of a lovely girl.”

Respiath took the blade and ran it across his flesh. My tongue darted out behind my lips, the temptation of the blood flowing almost too much for my young mind. Syiath watched too, absolutely stunned. Respiath was calm, in comparison to myself and my young lover, who were both in an absolutely chaotic state of mind. “It’s the name you will be giving the child you infested my daughter with,” he said in a calm even tone.

Respiath’s head snapped towards me. “You…with child?” he asked almost as if he did not believe it. I had yet to believe it so the idea was still fresh and harming my every thought.

“Yes, I am with child,” I said softly, touching his head and brushing back his hair.

Respiath waved a hand and I left my partner’s side. Syiath was pressed back and I watched, as Respiath rubbed the blood into the wound, massaging it throughout the deep injury. Respiath had already mastered the art of healing by this point. Syiath hissed at the life that sizzled black into his veins. Respiath was very calmly speaking to him through his panic.

“Syiath, do you plan to take care of my daughter?”

The man twitched and turned his head. “Of course, I am eternally faithful to my lady.” He was very calm and devoted.

“Good, do you have any questions?” He patted the open wound and it had once again been closed up.

Syiath’s head turned in towards Respiath. “Will her child be…like her?”

He nodded with a strong minded expression on his face. “Sleep now,” Respiath said with a strong tone to his voice. The man’s eyes closed and within a few seconds he was asleep. I was stunned, watching my lover sleep while my father stared.

He turned to me. “It is time I teach you about your daughter as well Suna. Come.”

“You will learn what you possess.” He said this in a very confident tone, but I don’t mean confident in the human sense of the word. Respiath was confident in the sense that what he said was law, my doubts of my strength faded.

“I will,” I promised him and I found myself just trying to get closer to him and his warmth. I wanted to know why I was so drawn to him but at that point the only thing that I cared about was the warm flame that was licking at my skin and drawing me down. “I want it.”

“I know you want it,” he told me in an arrogant tone. His arrogant was also different, more proud than any other sense of the word. He leaned down and gave me a chaste kiss on the lips. “I will give it to you if you just lie still and let me handle you.” After saying this he brushed my hair, long at that time behind my neck, and leaned down into the place where a woman’s neck meets her shoulder.

We spent several minutes like that. I watched the soil beneath my legs, and let him nuzzle into my neck. It seemed like he was breathing me in, and I really did believe at that time that the vampire had total control over me and the world that I knew. “Respiath,” I said softly, getting used to his name. As I slowly adjusted to the fact that this man was my savior, I felt the first pain.

I realized then that the skin Respiath had so carefully been nuzzling was now being bitten with inhumanly long teeth. I sank against his big body, clinging to the cloth on his chest, with tears brimming in my eyes. “It’s only a moment of pain child,” he said softly as he brushed my hair out of my eyes. “I promise my pet, it is just a little bite.”

It was only a little bite, but then Respiath started to drink. That heat that I had felt from him was now more than a warmth that barely touched my skin. It was radiating through my blood as it drained itself from my body. “Close your eyes , little girl,” he cooed into my ear and I was helpless to obey. I did not know this but by that time Respiath was an elder with much control over the minds of others. I soon slipped under, the warmth turning instantly cold and shocking my entire body. “Drink Suna,” I heard above my head .

I did not even know what the words meant until I felt the heat refilling me through the mouth. The blood drained itself inside of me, leaving me breathless and staring up into his eyes, mind open to the night sky again. I was being filled with the most searing intense heat and life was being put back into my veins, my blood so different now.

I was gone again. “Rest now my Suna and then you will be as I am, fulfilling your purpose.” I stared helplessly at him.

I rested as I was told to.

When I woke I was just filled with fear. I screamed. “Calm down now girl,” Respiath said, grasping me tightly. I had not yet become in tune with my emotions. “It’s alright child, really, really”

“No, no, no,” I screamed. The emotions were too much. They just kept strangling me.

“You’ve felt this before Suna. Anger so deep that you saw red and green bursts behind your eyes. Sadness so profound you thought you’d never escape. You have felt the pains of an immortal long before I did this to you.”

I sobbed still but his words triggered thought in me. Often Master had scolded me for having pointless emotional outbursts. I often cried, screamed or smiled needlessly. I have seen explosions in the back of my mind’s eye. “I have.”

“I knew that you ha the inner flame,” he said, and I could tell that the man looked tire. “I’m a blood drinking immortal an to this day you are to.”

I was appalled but I found my fear of the man slowly fading away. I knew then that I needed him with all of me.

“Thank you sir,” I said desperately, that gratitude to Respiath just running through my veins. I knew that I would always need him.

“Sir?” he asked with a slight laugh, petting my hair gently. “No Suna you will forever know me as your sire or your father.” He seemed very childishly stubborn in this.

From that moment on I obeyed this command and would always call and consider him my father, even when others would take his place. Respiath began to train me diligently, not only physically but he tried to teach me about my body, something that I was so unaccustomed to and afraid of at times. Around this time a general from Athens had been in the forest, and I felt something I had never felt before – desire.

“Sire, father, I have no idea what is happening to me every time I see that man camping out in the forest.” I was flushed and heated, and now I realize that we really did have a cliched father daughter sex talk that afternoon, the sun set fresh and the darkness all around us.

“Suna, the urge to procreate is strong in an immortal,” he said to me tenderly, pulling at my hair gently, fussing over me as if I were his baby. “Having intercourses is something that is in our very nature. You will feel this desire often.”

“I feel like I’m falling in love.”

Respiath had shaken his head, pressing a hand to my heart. “Suna I know it feels like love but do not let yourself be lost to the illusion.”

My Syiath was a general in the Athenian army. He was very poor and at the time he was also married to a woman named Mele, who I heard him speak to his comrades about often. He was on a mission when we first met, but as that faded away he spent a lot of time in the towns, conversing, getting drunk as men tended to do.

Syiath also had a habit of walking alone. I met Syiath in the deepest part of a forest that he was keen in visiting. He was stunned to see a woman in such dangerous and forbidden by men parts of the world. He started at me with shock, which turned to superstition.

“Wood nymph?” he asked in a breathless tone, his body contorted in a half bow. His dark blonde hair was hanging over his face looking like tresses of dark silk. I had no choice but to play with the boy. I would like Syiath to the men on today’s romance novels. He had those green eyes that seemed to sparkle and a little crease of three lines by the side, but only when he smiled. His gaze was deep and penetrating.

“Yes.” It was my first lie of many to Syiath. It was the only and the right thing to do at the time.

“I am rumored to be of the olive nymph Adamanthea, though my mother died when I was young.” It was such arrogant bragging, but it wooed me easily, my senses on fire. Syiath was trying his hardest to charm me.

“You are arrogant,” I spoke, finding more confidence than ever as I tried to keep up with façade that was what he believed me to be. “But do not apologize; I am not displeased with you. I have been observing you for awhile and I must admit I feel a connection to you stronger than that of any mortal.”

Respiath had promised me throughout my toiling hours of training with him that I would gain confidence to go with my new powers. Here was that confidence, strong and blaring through every fiber of the being that was once a shy and worthless slave girl.

The mortal looked at me as though he thought I was insane. “You are very flattering.”

He stood still as I carefully observed him, thinking about the dangers of blind faith, something I was obviously being given. I let one of my hands rest on top of his head, as the sunlight’s head radiated off of it and into my chilled fingers. “You deserve flattery.”

His words came out in a whisper, as if he was afraid of speaking them. “Thank you sweet nymph.”

“My name is Suna,” I told him in a soft voice.

“Suna you have my soul in your hands.” With this power I began to crave my influence over other’s souls. Always the slave, I just wanted to pull the other into my arms and make him mine. I wanted to be the owner for once and I realized that I had a man’s soul in my hands. It was a very empowering moment.

“Good boy,” I said holding his soul in my hands and loved it. I was afraid of the faith that Syiath put in my hands but I also loved him for it. I knew that he was mine. I touched him and brought him to me, and he touched my neck and throat with his lips. It was almost as if we were both lost in a trance. He was a good boy, so obedient and nice.

I felt a little bit of guilt for manipulating Syiath. He had no way of knowing what I was doing to him, and barely a year into my new life I could not know what I was doing to him. We made love that night in the forest, all hands and lips and love and lust. Syiath turned me into his princess and for once the slave had become the slave owner. I was the one with his soul in my delicate hands. When Syiath and I had made love in the shelter of the forest it had been my first time making sweet love. I did not even think as loving Syiath as a struggle, or induction to the impure. I felt the burning need of passion, as hot and gripping as the need for blood and we had done what felt right .

I left Syiath that night telling him to leave his wife and come to my home on the next sunrise.

My home, the place that I shared with Syiath was beautiful. We had hidden it deep inside the uninhabited forest and it was a home above the times. Stone and wood, it was a safe place and somewhere that we felt safe. It was near a cave so we were safe in the son was well.

Syiath obeyed me, my manipulation would be complete by the next day.

I went to see my father. I take this time out now to call my father Respiath a saint and a silent reminder that there always is something holy in the evilest of daughters. Respiath’s love would be continuous until his death and for that I thank every deity I do not believe in. Respiath knew every fault that I had, and the exact amount of pain and pleasure that I would be bestowed because of them. Respiath was an elder even then and read my thoughts and help me inspire myself. Yet when I entered our stone main room, he was father and I the daughter, sunk into his arms.

He smiled tensely when I embraced him and then sighed as though defeated. I know now that my father could see the chain of despair that I had started. Respiath had told me about a vampire’s sex drive and fertility but I had done the one thing to inhance my chances at pregnancy – copulation with a mortal man. Respiath was wise though not to stop the course of fate because I needed to learn. He had smiled and then went to his knees and kissed me on the belly.

I was so confused. “Father, what are you doing?” I asked with young and naive eyes, watching as he looked up at me. “She’ll be a girl, I think,” he said. I did not know that Syiath had the kind of sensitivity that he did, or that his elder path was that of a seer. “But I feel her moving away if you don’t hold her close.”

All of this he said quickly and my mind was reeling. It had only been a night since that beautiful passionate loss of innocence and gain of strength. I did not know that the time of lovely passion had resulted in a baby. Yet father was internally wise and his love for me was strong. He never did once judge that I made love to Syiath in the low light of evening, only after meeting him.

“Sunshine in the eternal dark, my Suna, your knowledge will expand soon along with your love.” Respiath whispered poetic vows to me, holding tightly.

I hugged my father and felt more helpless than in the moment when I lost my mortal life. I sagged in Respiath’s arms, more limp than a child’s wool doll. “Father,” I pleaded for his knowledge. “How can this work? Syiath believes me to be a nymph.”

When Respiath looked on me with blank eyes I crumbled on the spot. Every child young or old, immortal or no tends to fall apart when they realize that the vast paternal knowledge is a partial façade, and that our parents don’t know as much as we believe. “Can you blame him Suna?” he asked with a slight smile. “You are magical, fruitful and young. Your beauty surpasses that of the fairytale concoctions of the mind. You are the bedside story and so much more.”

“But what do I do?” I inquired, my mind dwelling on future things. “Syiath will find me to be a creature of nightmares instead.”

“He will learn.”

“And the child?” I asked excitable and frantic.

“Name her Bethyi,” he requested blankly. “My mother’s name was Bethyi before the grand Leto sired me. I would love to give that to your child.”

I said yes, trusting and sure of my admired sire.

I returned to my beloved Syiath and the next sunset. I will tell the modern mortal now that vampires do not burn at sunlight, but it is immensely uncomfortable and tends to have an adverse affect on the skins of young ones especially. We freeze. Syiath was probably confused as to why we met at this time, but we did.

Syiath dropped to his knees before me and I quickly moved him up. When I was young I was shy and naïve but now I was demanding and strong. “Syiath are you well?”

“My wife’s father has tried to slay me,” he yelled gently. I realized that that he had stab wounds in both his shoulder and thigh, minor and yet bleeding profusely. I took him to my father.

“Father, he is hurt…he must stay with us now.”

“Oh, this is your father?” he asked staring at my father with admiration.

“Yes,” I said burying myself in our home, leading him in. “He will help us.”

Together us three trudged inside our deep home.

Yeah, they had even had a mock wedding at the end of first grade. Melissa still had the pictures stowed away in a shoebox under her bed. She had been mocked mercilessly by her brother, but they had been happy.

Melissa sighed dejectedly at the memories, but she was quickly cheered up when she saw the neon moon that meant they had reached their destination. “Now I know David’s pretty, but what’s all that dreaming for Melissa?” Rico asked her with a slight laugh. “We’re at the Blue Moon now, you know?”

Melissa grinned. “Sorry baby, just thinking that’s all. Some of us do that from time to time.”

Before Rico could retaliate, he had stopped the car. Melissa flung open Miracle’s working back door, and went rushing over the seat and through the doors of the Blue Moon bar and club. They swung open in her wake, like some kind of western movie, and she giggled at the thought. She located the two boys she was looking for at a booth near the corner of the room. She jumped up and slid on the table of the booth grinning. “Miss me babies?”

“Always Liss.” Jacob Dyle was shaking his head at her antics, his dust colored hair shaking back and forth with the motion. He took off his glasses and was staring down at her with the clearest icy blue eyes that Melissa had ever seen. She grinned up at him, making kissy faces and grabbing his strong shoulders to pull herself up. She slid into the seat between him and the other man at his side. Then her ears were treated with the most melodic laughing she had ever heard in her young life. David Rinadli had the laugh of a god. It was sweet, a tinkling sound that got her heart going. She wrapped an arm around him and used his shoulder to pull herself up, Dyle smiled at her and David was doing the same within seconds. She was really internally shy but she hid it under antics like this, hoping that David would finally make that move and ask her out. It had been years in the coming afterall.

“Lemme guess Big R,” Dyle teased, as Rico entered the bar and took a seat at Dyle’s side. “You guys had a good one to start the day off?”

Rico nodded, his dark eyes lighting up as he leaned slightly onto Dyle. Melissa shot a glance at David who nodded spectacularly. They were always trying to do their part to force Rico and Dyle together. Rico and Dyle were two men who just belonged together as far as she and David were concerned. Melissa thought the same of her and David of course, but she was not about to let her own feelings relate to those about her friends.

Dyle slipped an arm around Rico’s shoulders and laughed. “I knew it. Nothing puts Melissa into a mood like that except a really good episode.” Rico nodded again and Dyle leaned into the other’s shoulders, whispering a little bit about Melissa. She shook her head in a mock scolding.

“I’m thirsty,” she declared loudly, pretending that she was irritated with the others. She grabbed David by the hand and pulled. “Come with me and I’ll buy you a drink pretty boy.”

“Dyle and David are off?” she asked, not able to hide the hopeful sound in her voice. She eyed Rico hopefully, even though she knew just by the look in his eyes that was the case. Nothing made Rico happier than the ability to spend time with their fellow officer Jacob Dyle. She knew that look from miles away and was always more than willing to find a way to bring Rico and Dyle together. Just seeing that look was enough for Melissa.

“Got off about an hour ago, they’re down at the Blue Moon.” Rico’s eyes were alight and suggestive, and Melissa nodded eagerly. The Fearsome Foursome, the police chief had called them several times. Melissa, Dyle, Rico and David were four police officers who just happened to be the best of friends. They made this inseparable group that all the other officers were either fearful or jealous of. It was a friendship like Melissa could never imagine in all of her years.

Melissa grabbed some clothes out from under her desk, knowing that Rico would just change his shirt before they arrived. When she returned she was a ball of energy, bounding out of the bathroom and out of the station before Rico could honestly bat an eye.

“Well what are we waiting for?” she asked when he finally made his way outside after her. “We need to get to the Blue Moon, stat. Do you think that Miracle is capable of this?” She laughed softly, extremely happy that she was sharing this joy with the other officer.

Rico grinned, his expression indignant. “Of course she can Melissa,” he said rolling his eyes. “Stop doubting the car would you? My baby is more than capable of handling a couple of wayward officers.”

Melissa laughed and rushed out to the beat up car. She pulled on the door and as always, it didn’t open. She made a couple of remarks under her breath before jumping up and inside of the car. Miracle had not had working locks for years, but Rico assured her that nobody would ever attempt to steal anything from a car that looked like she did.

Rico followed suit, sliding into the driver’s seat of his precious car. He flashed her a very cheesy smile. “Am I prepared for another instance of As the World Turns?” Rico asked, as he started the car. The man was often quick to joke that Melissa’s feelings for David were like a soap opera, but he hardly ever realized that his for Dyle were just as bad.

“Am I ready for yours?” she retorted. Usually she would not bring up Rico’s feelings for Dyle, as they seemed to make him more sensitive and moody than usual but he was sinking just as low mentioning hers for David. Usually the joking didn’t bother her, but still her feelings for David were so difficult to deal with.

“Melissa Anne Peters,” he said with a slightly breathless tone to his voice. “You never cease to amaze me.”

As he was being shoved into the back of one of the older officer’s cars, the boy seemed to wake up. “You cops are sick and twisted man,” he slurred as he stared up at the others. “I’ll have my dad sue you…and then you’ll never work in Los Angeles again.”

“Pretty pathetic isn’t it?” Rico nodded a little, indicating to Melissa that he was just fine. Rico looked somberly as the offenders were rounded up in front of them. Melissa could see the little lost look in his eyes and leaned over and kissed his cheek out of instinct. She knew it looked unprofessional but Rico looked so somber that it just tugged at her chest. She knew that she should feel similar sadness at putting away children, but Rico was a better man than she was. “Rico it’s okay,” he said as he touched the other’s back a little bit. “Not all kids can be as lucky as you, you know?”

He gave her a weakened smile. “Yes Melissa I’m aware of that,” he said as he turned back to the boys. “I guess they took out the trash for us so we’re free to go.”

As the panic cleared and the other officers seemed to handle the situation more firmly, a young couple approached Rico and Melissa. They were both so young, very likely younger than either of the officers. The woman was heavily pregnant and smiling brightly, even though she was obviously panting from the effort of running over towards them. Melissa met her husband’s eyes before either could talk, judging the protectiveness in his eyes. One could assume they were a young couple just trying to scrape by for the baby.

“Thank you so much miss,” the man said, reaching forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Melissa could not help blush at his earnest thanks. She leaned back against Rico, always modest. Many had often marveled how someone so talented could be so modest. “I was so worried,” he continued, one arm draped around his wife. “There was so much worry about those kids, and with my wife so near her date I was terrified.”

Melissa smiled a little bit. “Well you are welcome,” she said as she shook her head. “It’s our job and I am really glad we could make this place a little safer for your family.” She looked up at Rico and she was flushing heavily. He could never believe her modest, and he couldn’t help laugh. She gave them a small nod and then lead Rico back to the police car.

Rico looked to Melissa, the moment they got back into the car. He was driving this time around because she was definitely too pumped up to do such a task. “How can you be so modest?” he asked with a slight chuckle. He had fallen back to his old self, and she shook her head at him.

“I didn’t do anything that fantastic,” she said as she shook her head a little bit. “Don’t worry about it. I just never understood such gratitude.”

Rico bit his lip but when she turned to him he said almost nothing.

They reached the center of the complex, eyes looking around for the source of the disturbance. It hit their ears hard before they saw it. The loud bass was now unbearable, thumping painfully in Melissa’s ears. She glanced at Rico to see that his soft face had hardened and he was in his work mode. Melissa recognized every part of it, from the hard glance to the angry stare that Rico gave the distant threat. His hand lingered near his gun holster.

The bass pounded, shaking the fragile earth under Melissa’s feet. Now the threat was in plain view, not only an auditory warning. There were six of them, five boys and one girl. They were darkly dressed, a gang of some sort, though Melissa had a feeling they were just some ‘wannabe’ punk kids. Melissa instantly did zone in on drugs, a few bags and a lot of empty whisky bottles.

“This is the Los Angeles Police Department, stand up and put your hands over your heads.”

Usually Melissa would allow that announcement to Rico, who obviously painted a more threatening picture than she did, but she was reeling from all of her pent up energy. She watched as the teenagers slowly recognized that they were there, and yet made no move to turn off the music or stand. In fact, none of the teens did anything except continue laughing at her.

The stillness quickly evolved into movement. Rico lifted his gun out of the holster, but Melissa’s expression and body language remained impassive. The only female in the group, who had been gyrating some on the lap of one of the oldest looking boys, jumped up swaggering her hips as she moved near Melissa. “Where do you get off comin’ over here?” she slurred, nearly falling when she reached out towards Melissa. “What do you think you are blondie?”

“I think,” Melissa said harshly, hands on the girl’s shoulders to keep her out of her face. The child kept getting closer, closer, and Melissa gestured for Rico to not do a thing, yet. “I think that I am an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department and you and your little friends are inches away from being slapped with a charge of resisting arrest.”

Rico had called for backup, while this was happening, and Melissa gave him an approving nod. The girl shortly burst out laughing in Melissa’s face. Melissa wanted to hold her nose then at the thick scent of alcohol and marijuana. She pushed the girl back with force that one would not expect of her tiny form. “Nobody arrests the Ser-ser-serpents,” the girl said with a loud giggle.

Melissa gave Rico a short nod.

Rico had ducked down and grabbed the oldest looking boy by the arms, cuffing him and tossing him down to the ground. He hit the ground with a sickening crunch to the head, moaning loudly. A knife was drawn somewhere to her partner’s left and Melsisa grabbed it, encasing the cold hard thing in one hand and wrenching down. She had yet to draw her gun and several of the boys scrambled her way to attack the seemingly weak female. She drew the offending knife on them to back them up, and then grabbed her gun, pointed it at the boys. Rico had the young man below him unconscious and was now holding a gun to them as well.

None of them were too high to realize that they needed to stop. It seemed the world had stilled around them. The residents watching from their apartments were all in silence. There were sirens from far off indicating to Melissa that her backup was on it’s way. The adrenaline slowly flooded out of her blood stream.

“Alright boys,” Melissa said with a slight smile as she helped Rico cuff and restrain the offenders. “It’s over.”

One of the boys tried to resist Melissa’s tight hold . “My dad’s in the town congress there’s no way you can do this,” he said with a manic laugh. He struggled and Melissa had a hard time holding him down. The rest were on the floor, hands above their head, most of them already restrained.

Melissa tapped the radio at her side. “Peters, Sanchez we’re coming in.” The cars swarmed around and several other officers made her way to them, taking care of the offenders. Melissa let go and returned to her partner’s side.

Rico just grinned in response to her concern. “Since when did I listen Melissa?” he asked her in a huffy tone of voice. They pulled into a parking spot and Melissa took the key out of the car’s ignition. Rico flashed her a pathetic smile and then opened the passenger door. “It’s okay baby girl I just need to toughen my act up a little bit that’s all.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Rico, you’re the most...” She groaned loudly as she was cut off by her partner slamming the door and trotting ahead of her down to the scene of the crime. She loved Rico like a brother, but honestly he was the most stubborn man she had ever met in her entire life. Sometimes she just wanted to reach over and smack him, the way that he selflessly put his own hang-ups aside.

The parking lot was filled with cars, old beat up things that seemed to be in barely workable conditions. Melissa thought to mention to Rico that his car would fit in perfect, but no, serious business required a serious face, that much she knew.. So she advanced, several strides behind her partner, struggling to keep up with him.

An elderly woman was standing in the parking lot in front of them, hovering closely to a brown van with scratches and chips accentuating it's age. Her dangerous, possessive stance touched Melissa's heart briefly. She knew by instinct that the woman was dying to keep the van safe. "Ma'am?" Melissa asked quietly, stepping out of the car. "Hello, my name is Melissa Peters and I'm from the Los Angeles Police Department. Were you the one who made the call to our station?"

"About time don't you think?" she asked cantankerously. She croaked as she spoke, and advanced even closer to Melissa. She kept getting closer, so close that Melissa could smell her, a mixture of tobacco and staleness. "Those hoodlums have been hanging around my house for hours. I don't feel safe at night in this godforsaken place anyway. Why aren't you doing something? All the taxpayer money put into this and a woman has to play guard dog to her vehicle. I’m eighty-one years old!”

"Ma'am," Rico said respectfully. Melissa had always admired Rico's calm demeanor when dealing with people of a less than polite nature, but she knew even Rico could not take this if it kept going. Rico was trying, hard nevertheless. His hand went to Melissa's shoulder, trying to keep her wild temper under control. Melissa herself had no room for people like this woman. She was lucky Melissa was under Rico's sturdy control. "The Police Department does all it can to prevent incidents such as these from occurring. Could you please instruct my partner and me to the source of these disturbances?"

The woman pointed in an utterly straight direction, but her stance indicated that she was not going to accompany, or further help them. She walked closer to the brown tinged van, and leaned against it, holding her long nightgown about her. Rico led Melissa into the direction that the crone had pointed to, patting her comfortingly. "Calm down, Lissy...calm down."

Melissa shook lightly against him. She turned her face towards him and rolled her eyes lightly. “I get disrespect Rico, but from someone that age, it just seems so ridiculous. The last thing you could imagine.”

Rico stroked her shoulder gently, walking with one arm against it until they had made their way to the center of the complex. Melissa had far too strong of a temper for a good police officer but she was often forgiven because she really was one of the best. “You just save that pent up anger for these punks okay?” She nodded softly.

However, as of today’s date, January 24, 1975, I have learned that the concept of reincarnation is a reality. Leto, the first of my kind and mother of all of us who fell afterwards had proved that reincarnation is real. She proved this yeas before her untimely death nearly fifteen hundred years ago.

They will come back to us in other forms, says the seer, my daughter Bethyi.

Reincarnation of those closest to me has already begun, according to the prophecy. In this year someone from my past has been reborn. They are to play a key role in helping me find my Utopia. With all love for the kind, the sun will set.

Forever, S.

Melissa was certain that the diary she had found, in the attic of her newly inherited home, had been written by her clinically insane brother, William J. Peters, or Billy. The diary had been left abandoned, only one page with writing on it, tucked inside a floorboard. Her parents had never been big on details, or looking around.

Billy had been a boy with delusions of grandeur, who had always believed that he was some part of a movement towards a new world. Billy was insane and she knew this.

Still she had never expected to find that diary on one of her first nights living inside of her childhood home. She had never expected to read something that insane, and then fall asleep. Obviously it was not in the point of view of her brother, but he was the most fanciful creature she had ever known. She had not slept at all that night, except to drift in and out of consciousness, a cry echoing through her from her dire need to just sleep.

Even though a normal sleep was not possible that night she woke up in a cold sweat, thinking of words her brother had spoken in his own point of view. Billy, with his arrogant smile, had looked down on her and said, “The sun will set on you my dear sister. It will set on this entire world, leaving it in chaos until the worthless race of dominance learns to capitulate and fall into the darkness. Only in that submission will the world work again.”

She shook herself, trying to get rid of the sweat that seemed to have enveloped her. It seemed that her entire body had been encapsulated in an icy cocoon, which had shattered upon her waking. She trashed about in panic, blue eyes wide and furious as she looked around for her older brother. She grasped around, finding only the grey comforter that she had pulled over herself the night before upon finally falling asleep on the couch. Her hands balled into fists, holding the material as though it were her only connection to the living. Unfortunately, when she turned her body, her side hit the solid diary. She leaned down and grasped it in one hand, sighing softly as she felt the hard and old leather.

On the small end table just beyond the couch, the red display of the digital clock read that it was four-thirty in the morning. Melissa groaned loudly in frustration. She was supposed to be up and getting dressed for work already. Once again, memories of the past and personal pain had kept her from doing her job correctly. What kind of officer was she? She did not even want to answer that question. As much praise as the petite blonde received from her colleagues, she would never believe them. In her mind she was a terrible cop, a terrible woman and someone so completely caught up in the past that she could not do anything in the present correctly. She clung to the diary, tightly.

Melissa jumped up from the couch, groaning and nearly tripping over her feet as she ran into the bathroom. Quickly, she shed her pajamas, the bright red ones that the police chief had given her for Christmas last year. They made a fancy red heap at the foot of the shower and Melissa jumped into it. She kissed, as the spray of water came out icy cold. After a moment, it began to warm, as did her mind. She felt increasingly calm as the hot water washed away the memories. She hated that she still dreamt and thought of Billy. It was not that dreaming of her dead brother was new or anything, but the dreams had become more and more vivid lately especially in the last month or two. It was as though she could see him in front of her again, looming over her in that way he used to, intent on terrorizing her.

Shivering, she groped the bar of soap sitting in the tray beside her. She quickly washed herself, staring at the front of the shower, mentally tracing the patterns in the shower tile. She tilted her head backwards, allowing a stream of water to gush over her head. She turned off the water, her body not able to stop shivering. Why was this house always so damned cold? It seemed that the years could not take that quality away. She stepped out of the shower, finding a white cotton towel on the top of the toilet. She wrapped it around herself.

As she was walking out of the bathroom, Melissa stopped by the mirror. It had always been there, the slightly cracked full length mirror her mother had bought at an antique shop when she was a little girl. It had always been there but for some reason today it stopped Melissa in her tracks. She let the towel drop and stared at herself in it, Billy’s opinion of her appearance replaying in her head. She brushed a hand through her wet and stringy blonde hair. Billy always used to tell her, at least when she was a small child, that she always reminded him of the sun with her bright disposition and natural beauty. He had always been so eager to see the sun set as well, just like he was intent on torturing the child that he claimed to love. She let her glance fall down the mirror and over the length of her naked body. She was skinny though not painfully so. She had long muscular legs and a mostly flat stomach. Many had called her pretty over the years, yet Melissa still really couldn’t see how people found her attractive. She thought that girls with curvy hips, a larger waist and round breasts were much prettier than her, “real women” so to speak. Melissa found that her figure was far too boyish for anyone’s tastes, let alone hers. She was never good enough, not in any way. Sighing she stepped away from the mirror and went to her bedroom.

Melissa quickly flipped on the light switch, never being one to enjoy the dark. The light flickered before it stayed on permanently. Her uniform was lying at the edge of her bed, folded and pressed neatly. She unfolded her pants, and smoothed them out. Carefully putting on her underclothes, Melissa looked over the uniform with a sense of pride she knew that she would never lose. Being a police officer in Los Angeles, a woman and a young one; well that was a rarity and the accomplishment that she was very proud of. Melissa loved her occupation, and the fact that she had managed to become an officer at a young age and without an impressive physical form was a feat that few could accomplish. Of course, just because her form was unimpressive did not mean that good things did not “come in small packages” as the clichéd statement went. Her partner Rico and even the police chief of their precinct, Daniel Alexander, would always jump to say that she was one of the most physically capable officers on the force. Offenders always seemed to underestimate the pretty petite girl. Those were usually the ones that would up face down on the floor, Melissa’s knee pressed into their lower back and that taunting laugh of hers echoing in their ear. She knew she was powerful and she would never totally deny it, modesty put aside in that part of her life.

By the time Melissa was pulling on her jacket, she heard a loud crackling sound just below her window. She opened it, and surely enough, her favorite clink bucket was outside of the apartment. The car was called “Miracle” because; well honestly the fact that it was still driving the streets of Los Angeles was a miracle in itself.

Miracle was the personal car of Melissa’s partner on the force, Rico Gonzales. It was the man’s pride and joy, almost family to him. Rico’s head popped out of the car’s window, and the offer yelled suddenly. “Melissa! Come on, it’s alright five and we’re going to be late. Yet again.” She smirked as she watched her slightly older partner have a miniature meltdown. Rico’s face had turned red, and she could almost feel his heart pounding through her window, the way he looked. He was temperamental for sure.

She stood at the window, taking a moment she did not have, to observe her partner. Rico was handsome, that much was obvious. He was a dark skinned Hispanic young man, with beautiful well sculpted features. His dark eyes were fierce, like those on a bird of prey. He had begun wearing his hair a little longer in the past few months, something that Melissa had intensely supported, and it was now hanging halfway down his face.

“MELISSA ANNE PETERS STOP STARING AT ME AND GET DOWN HERE!”

Melissa laughed softly, and cracked open the window. “I am coming, Rico Edward Gonzales. Oh and please tell me that you took your happy pills today, or else I am gonna quit.” She shut the window again, grinning and grabbed a ponytail holder from the top of the bathroom counter, yanking her hair back and heading for the door. There was a new bounce in her step. Rico always made everything feel so much better. He was like the brother she never had. He was the brother that Billy would never be.

She headed downstairs and bounced down the path in front of the apartment, straight into Rico’s car. She patted him on the shoulder. “Since I was running late, you could have gone to the station and picked up our squad car. Now I don’t even know if I’ll get to work in one piece. It’s so tragic.” She pressed the back of her left hand to her forehead dramatically. She could not suppress her laughter.

Rico grumbled next to her, starting the car. It made a loud noise that reminded Melissa of someone coughing. Like someone coughing on their deathbed, she added to herself with a giant smirk. “Lissy, insulting my car at the crack of dawn is not a good idea,’ Rico mentioned quietly. She grinned and leaned against his shoulder, smiling darkly at him. She knew for a fact that Miracle meant a lot to Rico, but she could not help making fun. Rico very well knew it was all in good fun too. He was just a big jerk when it came to the early morning. Melissa was on the opposite end of the spectrum. She was a morning person and did not mind it at all when she and her partner were scheduled at the crack of dawn.

“I didn’t sleep well. I’m delirious, it’s not my fault.” She flashed her partner an impressive grin as the car clanked along the highway. Someone from behind them honked a horn, loudly and she turned her body around, wondering if the aggressive Los Angeles driver d’jour knew that there were two officers in the car. Off duty officers yes, but Melissa knew the sight was intimidating to anyone. She found it odd how easily people were intimidated by uniformed officers of the law. She grinned back at the men honking at Miracle, trying to make her uniform very visible. She leaned into Rico and that same grin plastered itself on her face.

“Are you having nightmares again?” he asked a look of concern washing out his youthful face and making him look too old for his age. She sighed. She hated the way that her best friend, partner and brother constantly worried about her. She was not worth his worry, especially not when Rico worried about everyone. She did not want to be his burden.

“Big R,” she said softly, shaking her head and running a hand along his arm. “I am more than alright. I had a bit of a nightmare, yes, but I’m perfect.” She flipped her head, loosening her hair from the ponytail she had put it up in before leaving and shaking it out. She was not okay. The nightmares were becoming worse and worse, and she was convinced that sooner or later she would lose her mind with visions of Billy. Still, Rico, the sweetheart, the worrier, did not need to know this.

In a few minutes, the two officers would up at the precinct. They were immediately put on a call, though it was not a total emergency, so they had to file their sign in papers, get the squad car and leave.

When they walked into the station, Melissa felt a comforting wave of familiarity. Lucky thirteen – that was what the thirteenth precinct of the Los Angeles Police Department had chosen to call themselves. The second they stepped inside a familiar French accent called out to them. Lester was an older man, a brilliant detective and a better friend. They loved the old man, who had always supported them as a duo.

“My bet ez on you Rico, and Melizzy. You are ze very best there is.” He was waving his hands about and looking quite a sight. Next to him stood the police chief, smiling gently and shaking his head at the slight hysteria. “Mister Sanders thinks eet will be Dyle and David but I know you will be ze most successful team for this month.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Les,” Melissa said smiling as warmly as she could as the man gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. She could not help laugh.

“Especially you Melizza, you eez one of the best,” Lester replied, winking at her. Rico chuckled and they walked outside to grab their squad car. Melissa snuck around Rico’s side, shoving him playfully and gripping the handle to the driver’s seat door.

“Mine,” she purred in her partner’s general direction. Rico shot her a pretend look of hurt, but before much more conscious thought could happen on either part, they were speeding down the highway to an apartment complex down town. Melissa sighed, sinking into driving. Trees whizzed past her and the other cars on the road became just blurs of radiant color. The buildings rose like temples around them, testament to the world that had been created by man. Melissa was lost in it, in having conrol.

“Watch out Lissy we’re almost there,” Rico muttered quietly, breaking the spell. His eyes were locked on the navigation equipment situated on the dashboard, that stated they were approaching their destination.

Suddenly she turned into the exit lane of the freeway and sped onto a quiet road. “Where is it?” she asked. She turned on the siren as she did. It began to blare an eerie and alarming sound that still never failed to surprise her.

“It’s called Shady Glen,” Rico said softly and took a sharp intake of breath. He pointed at a rustic looking slight. “It’s right over that way.” Melissa took a look at the sign and nodded. Before she could think much more however Rico was speaking again. “It looks really run down and this is known gang territory.”

There are few words to describe the vision of a man who had appeared in front of me. He had jet black hair that shook over his shoulders gently. His eyes were of a jade green color that took my breath away. He had a strong upper body and held me as tightly as he possibly could. I shook and thrashed against him, screaming for him to let me go.

“Suna love, hush,” he said gently. I looked up at him and I was surprised to find that his face contained a look of total adoration. I melted under those eyes, that were looking at me as though I was a long lost child, or a long lost love.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice raw from running and crying so hard that I was exhausted. He brought me to my knees, falling down with me and gently petting back my hair.

“My name is Respiath,” he said very gently. His hand was in my hair and I knew then that the man intended to take care of me no matter what I did. I had never really felt such a  sensation of being in a father's arms. "Suna, I am going to change your life. I have been watching you since you were that little girl that relished in the fields."

Maira was very sickly. I suppose it was some kind of birth defect. She was a bright and beautiful child. That was when I received my duty. Cleo told me that I was to be a sort of surrogate mother to my charge. I took this to heart. I had very little going for me in life, that much was obvious. Maira was the sense of duty that changed and saved my life. That tiny delicate child was to be a very basic reason for living.

Maira and I were friends, above all else. Maira grew up loving me. Her first word vaguely resembled my name. I remember yelling proudly and holding the year old child to my chest. “I love you Maira,” I cooed, holding her tight to me and bouncing her gently. “My little girl.” Part of me deluded myself into thinking that I was her mother. Maira grew up in my care looking at me with a child’s eyes. I had never known such happiness. At first Maira even called me her mother, a habit her parents quickly crushed. There was something in the way that Maira looked at me, like I was her word. Her wide eyed almost gold colored eyes, adored me. She was a clingy child, never able to be as self reliant as she wanted to be. Maira had so much frustration and I wanted so badly to ease it.

Maira’s illness was a huge hindrance to everyone’s life. Lycus often denied the existence of his daughter. She was an ill girl, a double shame to her father. Maira always kept up a cheerful disposition but it was painfully obvious to me that she felt as though her entire life was a burden to others. “No man will ever want a frail wife, even if she lives long enough to marry.” Lycus’s words were cruel and in total earshot of his tiny daughter. He was always so cruel to her.

Maira and I fell closer all the time, but visions started to strike me. My eyes would go blank and I would see the most horrific images. They made no sense to my mind at the time, and I was cursed by them. I saw blood and destruction and so much indescribable hate. I saw men killing other men and then beautiful creatures swooping down and drinking the blood of dead men. I was haunted by blackness, my body always tense and my mind always jumpy. I was slowly drawn away from humanity by these green hued dreams that nobody saw nor felt.

Then I had a vision of Maira dying. Even though losing the child was a fear of mine, I could not believe that I had seen that in one of my accursed visions. I saw in the vision a Maira several years older than she was, lying in a bed. I saw that she had lasted many years more but the illness had reached a peak that the youngster could no longer face alone. “Maira!” I begged outside of my vision. “Maira please!” Though the picture in my head did not indicate death, I was cursed with knowing she would die. In the vision she died and I awoke screaming.

Lycus was enraged. Eventually I could not keep my vision a secret. I was afraid of whatever evil god had possessed my head. Lycus backhanded me across the face and I fell. To this day I believe that Maira meant more to him than he would ever let on to other men. I collapsed completely. When I wake up, Cleo told me that in no uncertain terms I would pay for my sins. What sins? I was banished to a cellar and brutally hurt.

Imprisonment was hell. Maira pled my case boldly, even though she was a small and mostly helpless child. Lycus considered killing me several times. I remember waking up once to find the man holding a blade over my head. I do believe that Maira’s love for me was what saved my life during this horrible time. And oh, it was horrible times! Lycus consulted several other local men to try and beat the demons out of me. I was certain that I was not going to make it.

I was eventually freed. I knew that it was Maira’s incessant pleading and not the fact that I had been cleansed of demonic thoughts that did the trick. Little Maira confronted me on her vision shortly after. Her tiny fingers touched my cheek. “Why I die?” she asked and I knew then that the ineveitable death people spoke of actually scared her. “I am not that sick anymore.” I promised her with a weakness I could not deny that she would not leave me.

Maira kept getting sicker and I knew the child was not going to live much longer. I was horrified, feeling like I was suspended over a giant pit. At the bottom of this pit lay Maira’s death and I knew that when I reached that point there would be nothing that I could do. I was getting so scared and my visions were getting worse with each passing day.

I distanced myself from Maira as the visions raged on. I had long ago learned to keep all things that were seen behind my eyes within myself. I knew that I would be killed if their persistence was found out. Every time I had a vision I would crawl out to that field I had played in as a child and let the dark images crash. Soon however the nightmare was made real.

Maira passed away. She was so young and yet so gracious in her time of dying. She lay in the same deathbed I saw in my vision. “I love you,” she said, her eyes locked on me. She slowly slipped into the land of death and I cried like I had never cried before. I really loved that child. Though so many barriers kept us apart, I cried hysterically mourning until Maira was laid to rest.

Memories of my vision arose soon. Lycus was infuriated. “You did this!” he roared at me. “I swear by the gods you have killed her with your witchcraft!”

I ran. I ran as fast and as far as I could. Deep in my soul I could not take being a horrible man’s slave without the girl that kept me going. With every fiber of my being I moved to get away. I ran into the darkest forest possible, running as fast as my legs could take me. With everything in myself I knew that I was breaking free.

The soldiers had been ordered to set fire to the dwellings of our tiny village. I had been in my home helping my mother to cook. All of a sudden the smell of smoke had rising from behind me. “Mama!” I shrieked as the first licks of flame came behind us. My mother turned her head and the look of terror in her eyes was mimicked in my child’s eyes. She took my hand in hers and with all of her strength shoved my little body out of a square window like opening. She quickly clamored after me.

My village lay in ruins. Almost every dwelling as well as all of the barns had been lit on fire. Horses ran rampant, baying and screeching in their terror. Families had been separated and I watched children as young as I cry out in pain or terror. The warriors were cruel metallic gods coming down and striking fear and death into all of our hearts. Their swords cut and there was so much blood none of us could escaped. The screams echoed.

Prayer was not an answer. My father lay dying and there was nothing that any of us could do to save his life. It was then that I realized at the young and weak age of three years what death was and how cold of a grip it had. “Papa!” Mother and I were briefly separated in the clamor. I ran to my father’s side and clung unashamedly to the man who had given me life and yet was slowly losing his. I shrieked like a vengeful goddess, my anger overwhelming. He started up at me, his breathing going shallow as my mother approached. Soon his breath was no more.

Shortly after his last breath I was yanked from my mother’s arms. I know that she was holding me as I screamed, but in moments she was not. In my youthful confusion I had blacked out but from the outside I saw that a large man had torn the two of us apart and out my tiny limp body over his shoulder. Even in my reflecting and searching I do not know what happened to my mother, but that grief soaked and confusing moment was the last I ever spent with that woman. I had lost my family.

When I woke up I was at the large city state. I did not know this at the time because I was in a cold room made of thick stone with several terrified youth and women. In instantly clung to one of my father’s sisters, yelling incessantly for my lost father and mother. We were in that room for hours, maybe days and I was petrified. I screamed and cried but in their own personal hell none of my fellow captives paid the screaming child much mind. Word that our little village had been taken and that we were slaves spread like wildfire. I did not understand until the big man who had carried me and his wife came to us.

The woman nodded slowly. “You were right Lycus she is a very precious thing.” I did not understand but indeed felt a mortal outrage when the woman talked about purchasing in hushed tones. I followed the woman quite blindly but my very essence was protesting the fact that I was but a purchase. I knew I was but the idea appalled. I was taken back to the manor and it seemed that I was expected to fall into the life of a slave. I did not accept it at all though, a feeling that this could not be my fate.

The manor was beautiful and there was no doubt to its beauty. I hated it however, and until my mind was old enough to understand did not know why. When I was a three or four year old child, I only saw it as tainted black, the place that made me constantly afraid I would be turned out or sold as property. It was the place I was taken to when every shred of paternal love I had was taken away from me in a brutal way. The manor was an extravagant and beautiful place but its beauty was deeply tainted by the pain that it caused my young heart.

I met the man of the house, Lycus, a few days after arriving. “She is a prime specimen,” Lycus assessed and over the next four years he continued to complement me in the same vague and demeaning way. Lycus with his vague praise was much quicker to an attack, I would learn. He often hurt his wife, which angered my young soul because as disturbed as she was she protected me.

There was a field out back which I loved to play in. Whenever was not caught up in the dull tedious duties I was forced to do, I would run and play, twisting my tiny body. It was lush and green of its own accord and I would just run around, collapsing and dreaming about my future even though I have know idea how I knew to dream of anything aside from my death in slavery. Still I dreamed and while these dreams filled my mind, I felt the eyes of the man who was to be my future.

My duties were few for that first year. Cleo really did like me, and treated me as though I were her own child. She was a very young woman with issues birthing a child of her own. She was a nice woman who contrasted with her husband’s cruelty and odd words. I spent a lot of time playing personal aide to her, and she told me in confidence that I was far too good for my life. I enjoyed the fact that she held pride in me.

She sang to me. The song translated roughly to “my precious little girl, my child who was a gift from the gods.” My mother indeed did see me as her sacred gift from the gods. There were few women of the times who held their daughters in such high esteem. My mother tended to my needs with duty and devotion, the strongest of forces.

My father, though not as impressive of a soul, was a sweet and gentle man who took care of his family and his home through the worst types of strife. He was a strong sweet force of a man, and I must admit that I wish I had known him better.

When I traveled back to those days and saw my birth. I came from my mother’s womb shrieking. “For such a frail baby she has such a scream,” my mother commented breathing and panting heavily. She really did look like an angel, sweat soaked hair hanging down her face.

“It’s a good sign for a baby to cry that much,” the midwife told her brushing back her long hair. My mother kept me close and fed me. I was so taken aback the first time that I witnessed this scene. I was given the most beautiful and unconditional love ever. “My beautiful little girl,” she cooed gently rocking me in her arms. She sang to me until she passed out and the midwife took me. The woman wrapped me up in ratted linens and took me to my father, who had to toil even on the day of his first and soon to be revealed as his only child’s birth.

“Meet your little girl,” she said to him. He threw his tools down and took me from her grasp. Very few fathers held daughters in high esteem either, but his look was one of outright joy. “My angel,” he said in total amazement as he looked at the woman and then down at me.

The reaction of the members of our tiny village was very interesting to me. The other children seemed to be evasive. The older people laughed and made joked. “She is like a beautiful little devil, being perfect and yet scaring off the other babies. She has a spark.” Perhaps it was my flame that they felt, strong and frightening. It was too much for them to handle or so I assume by all of the negative or frightening reactions in these moving pictures of the mind.

The only person who seemed constantly in support was of course my mother. In our short time together she continuously built up my ego and my soul. “You are great my daughter and will amount t greatness.” Did she see maybe that I would stand the test of time and prevail? I will never know.

Our world was in so much turmoil back then. Men of old, they were as cruel as the men of today and wars raged throughout the country side. Little villages like ours meant nothing in the scope of things, unfortunately they were easy conquests and often my life was filled with the anxiety and fear of my village. I grew up fast and was often called a bright child. It was not uncommon for me to say things like “bad men coming” and “we need to hide.” I often found myself calming the fears of much younger children when their parents made them hide.

Program Feature: Environment

Big Event:

5 Troop Meeting / swim tryouts

6 Committee Meeting

12 Troop Meeting

15-17 Scouting 101 Camping.

Rob C is coordinating the adult menu and will be sending out a request for assistance with the menu.

Joshua C is coordinating the Scout Menu. Who will be following up with each scout to ensure that each scout pays up for the food. I believe the cost will be $12 per scout for food. Please, Please, settle up with Joshua C ASAP. He needs the money ASAP. More to follow, I am sure from both Rob C and Joshua C

Also, I have again attached the info sheet for this campout. If anyone has any questions about the trip, contact me by Thursday before noon. I am heading up there early Thursday and will not be available after this.

Also, if anyone is thinking about coming home on Saturday night, we have at least one scout that is trying to get home a little early. If you are an adult coming home Saturday, Andrew C (one of our new Eagle scouts) needs a ride. Please let him know of your plans.

Also, a big thank you ahead of time to Andrew C, Daniel D and Joseph P for coming out this weekend. These older scouts will be the instructors for our training this weekend, and have volunteered to come out and help the younger scouts. Please thank these young gentlemen for their interest and involvement in helping out. Also, please note that since these young men will be in charge of our program they are invited to join the adults in our meals. A man sized job deserves a man sized meal!!!! Thanks guys, I appreciate your help more then you know.

We will be working on Knife and axe, knots and lashing, water rescue techniques, first aid, and cooking. If anyone has any water rescue equipment (throw ropes, life jackets, throw rings) please bring them out.

I think that is all for now. I hope to see all of you this weekend. We will have fun.

Directions:

Take Highway 50 east from Placerville for 21 miles to the Icehouse Road turnoff on the left.   Travel north for 16 miles to campground entrance, which I think will be on the left.  (Also try these hyperlinks for maps.  I pulled them off the “Reserveamerica.com” website.

Phone Park for More Information:
Information: (530)293-0827

Program plans for this weekend will include:

Cooking
Knife and axe
Knots and Lashing
More First Aid to finish up what we didn’t cover on the last outing
Water Rescue techniques.  This will be in keeping with the requirements for Second and First Class.  It will involve some wading in the water.  Everyone should bring their swimsuit, towel and sunscreen.  Also, if you have any water rescue devices please bring them.  This includes ropes suitable for throwing, and rescue rings, life-jackets, kickboards, etc.  We will be following the “Reach, Throw, Row, Go” philosophy in this training.

Jon P

19 PLC Meeting, Troop Meeting

26 Patrol Meeting

September

Program Feature: Physical Fitness

Service Patrol: Hammerheads

Big Event: Caving

2 Troop Meeting

3 Committee Meeting

6 Caving

9 Troop Meeting

16 Court of Honor

19-21 Fall Camp

23 PLC Meeting, Troop Meeting

30 Patrol Meeting

October

Program Feature: Leadership

Service Patrol: Lightning

Big Event: