Chapter 6 (Pt I.)

The sun was bright, the air bitter to the skin as Kassidy and I walked the tiny town of Remington, a town so miniscule that it failed to register on most GPS. You would have to Know the way as the locals would say. Remington was a town hardly touched by time, it was like being thrown back in the early 1900s, just catching up to the early 2000s. They even had a payphone near Mama Ed’s the local grocery store. Kassidy told me many stories of how as a kid she would come here with her grandma to purchase the juiciest peaches you’d ever find in all of Georgia. Then they would go home and make grandmas world-famous peach cobbler and listen to the life lessons she had gained growing up in a time before Rosa Parks sat down on the bus.

A storm was approaching the south and soon the roads would become unacceptable. The winter getaway was only planned for a weekend and now that weekend would turn into about a week. It was estimated that by Christmas the roads should be travelable but until then our necessities needed to double to deal with the extended stay in the cabin.

After the visit from Sheriff Walton early this morning, we had turned on the TV as we indulged in our breakfast. There was a well-dressed woman in a red blouse and black pencil skirt standing in front of weather map of the eastern side of the United States. The words “Bomb cyclone”, flashed across the screen. An apocalyptic-sounding winter storm set to hit the East Coast with freezing precipitation to affect Florida all the way up to New England. Here in the mountain region of Ga, They may get some snow but not the amount that was expected to reach. “Record Highs” the weatherwoman stated as she spoke to her fellow newsmen.

The Remedy

Your Sex plays as my remedy

How can I deny it?

Your Sex fucks with my sanity,

This addiction I can’t fight it,

Your Sex serves as my therapy,

Don’t take away this Erotic prescription from me

Your Sex is my clarity,

Sip the Love of your drug from a Styrofoam cup

Not looking for forever, just something momentarily

Poison me with the taste of your lips, not looking for easy, make it rough,

Your sex takes me to Paradise

I’m obsessed with these acts of obscenity

Even if it’s a lie, I want you to make some kind of love to me,

No matter how twisted, feed my soul your lies

Just give me the remedy for the night

I’m devoted to your toxicity,

Rehab is a no,

I hope you know

When I’m sinking in that place so low

It’s your sex that serves as my remedy

This kind of abuse I’ll never let go

I just hope you know, I just hope you know…@Sexwithluna

Chapter 5: The Flickering Light of the Past (Part II Final)

“King? Are you okay Baby?” Kassidy smile quickly turned into worry.

“Yea, just… I don’t know.”

“You were calling out some other woman’s name you know.” Her lips shifted, and her left eyebrow moved on its own, her look now was one of curiosity. It kind of reminded me of how WWE The Rock would do his to rile up the fans.

“I was, when?”

“Yes, in your sleep duh! Someone named Claire I think you kept saying. You wouldn’t be cheating on me would you and now your guilty conscience eating at you.”

“Wooooow, you funny but no. Claire Williams from way back at St. Ovaria.”

“Claire from when we were kids? Wow that’s going way back, I haven’t thought about her in ages”

“Yea, me either” I watched as the snow plastered pine trees faded into blurs, I tried to search the depths of my mind for a reason for the sudden trip to the past and what the hell did I dream to frighten me so bad about it. After pulling off to the approaching exit we soon past a large wooded, timeworn road sign with “Welcome to Remington” inscribed across its surface.

Chapter 5: The Flickering Light of the Past (Part I)

I awoke to a flash of dazzling lights. It was inviting, totally different from the cold of the lonesome shadows of death; I felt at peace.

     Through Darkness, Comes the Light, from its warming brace I could hear the proverbial whispers of my mother. Could this be The Light, the Light found at the end of the obscure tunnel? The guiding light to Paradise, to Heaven almighty where the angel dwell?

“Jesus, Nero, are you really sleeping?” Kassidy scoffed. I turned from the brightness of the daylight wiping the sleep from eyes, to see Kassidy in the driver seat steering the Ford down the scenic mountain road. We had just past a green Stagg road sign that read REMINGTON 1 MILE. It wasn’t what I thought, just the sun, it was the sun which woke me some hours later.

“Maybe next time I’ll hold back from taking your soul if you can’t hang Baby.” Kassidy clowned while sticking her tongue out while tooting her ass.

“Don’t kid yourself, Queen, you’re good but you could be Hella lot better.” I retorted with a slight grin. I struggled out of a terrible dream — I was chasing after someone or something had been chasing me. I couldn’t remember vividly, the only thing that stuck was the heart gripping, skin crawling, soul-freezing fear I had experience, and a familiar name from my younger days of attending St. Ovaria private school, Claire Williams. I was unbearably hot; my skin was damped with sweat. Sitting back in the passenger seat I cracked the window letting in that cool mountain air. Could this have been fear of the nightmare? No, the sun rays had been gleaming down on me for only God knows how long as I slept. Beaming down on me through the window like an ant under a magnifying glass from a mischievous child. Better yet it was probably a combination of both the Heat of the sun and the cold fear of the dream causing condensation to emit from my flesh.

Chapter 4: Memories of eyes made of Coal (Part IV Final)

“Nero…” A familiar voice whispered my name. I instantly shot up surveying the halls.

“Nero hurry…” My eyes could hardly believe it, I don’t think I could believe it. It was Claire, Claire Williams!  I wasn’t alone, an actual person and not the Snowman. Claire stood in the center of the hall looking at me with a slight smile. She turned walking down the hallway, I got up quickly following her.

Claire took a right down the foyer, as did I, she took a left and with no delay, I trailed behind. Locker’s begun to swing and close on their own, the closer I got to her, the louder they banged against each other. There was a flood of clashing metal clinging together. I tried drowning out the gaudy sound by covering my ears. Claire disappeared into the blackness of a classroom, just as I was to follow her the door slammed with a terrifying force, there was silence all around me.

“Please, Nero… where are you? I’m scared. He-He’s coming!” Claire called out. I rush to open the door, trying my hardest to pry it open but I stopped after looking at my feet, a pool of inky red fluid oozed around my tiny shoes.

Fear-stricken I took a step back as an earsplitting little girl scream could be heard from the other side, I slipped in the sticky rust smelling liquid. Out the corner of my eye there he stood with that smile and eyes made of coal at the center of the hall. His snow-white body stained with carnage.

The screaming stopped. The lights started to shut off, section by section the darkness started to creep. The Song of Moonlight, I thought to myself. I need the music box to keep the monsters away. I search my pockets only to come up with lint from the lining of my pants,

You Dropped it running after her… I thought to myself. I was now encircled by the darkness only a spotlight around me. But even in the darkness… even in the complete black, I could still see his Black Eyes.

“He’s Coming…” I muttered as the lights flickered on and off until the blackness finally consumed me.


Chapter 4: Memories of eyes made of Coal (Part III)

“Daddy, Daddy please help me.” I shut my eyes even tighter now, shaking my head in disbelief. If I couldn’t see him then he can’t be real, it can’t be real. With the music box still in my hand, I would keep winding it and play the sweet tune, my mother adored so much. Yes, of course just keep playing the music box, the music kept the monsters away,

Nero, we are safe when bathed in the light. The sun in the day, and the moon at night, so long as there’s a glow the monsters hold no fright. Yet even the brave fears the darkness, fear the loneliness it what gives the things that go bump in the night their bloodlust. They smell terror, so when I am not at your side play this song of Moonlight.

Again, I opened my eyes merely to see the hall lined with the pale red lockers. Looking back out of the clear double doors, the Snowman was back at his post only this time he was gazing intently at me.

He forgot about you, the snowman seemed to utter from its smile of coal. I curled myself into a ball tucking my head tightly into the folds of my arms.

Chapter 4: Memories of eyes made of Coal (Part II)

The silence was deafening, not even a creek could be heard. Reaching into the main compartment of my bag I dug out a tiny crystal translucent box. A teeny handled protruded out from the side of it. Using the tip of my thumb and index finger, I wound it until the handle became tight. A sweet melody began to play, Ludwig Van Beethoven Moonlight Sonata, the tune broke the silence, each time the song would stop I would crank the miniscule handle and play the jingle all over again. It was comforting from the quietness, I didn’t feel as,

But you are alone… an Icey chill voice whispered. “Not alone, I am not alone” I chanted to myself. The Snowman was facing the door peering profoundly at me with his dark hardened eyes. I closed mines hoping he would simply go away, back to standing at his post. When I opened them, his cold frosted round body was now in mere breath away from me.

Chapter 4: Memories of eyes made of Coal (Part I)

Snow fell from the steely sky on a cold December evening. The halls of St. Ovaria private school lie uninhabited, everyone must have left for the day. Pops late again, most likely at the hospital with mom, Doctors said it won’t belong. That it was best we spend what little moments we had left.

I sat on the bench next to the pale red lockers, feet swing to and fro. I gazed out the clear double doors at the road, any moment now Dad would be pulling up in that old 97 gray Nissan Sentra. As time passed, so did my hopes of seeing that Nissan, maybe tomorrow I guess. As I stared out into the snow-covered field, a snowman took sentry over the lonely winter wonderland. Ever so vigilant, standing watched as the many children scampered into the cars that carried them away to their warm and loving home. He and so many other alike reigned over the snowy plains. With all the humans bunch up together around one another, they were free to do as they please in absolute secret. This was their land, the land of the Snowmen.

The Seed

The sun gave light brightly on a cloudy December afternoon in the small city of Columbus, Ga. It’s a typically busy Saturday here, more so now as its the post week of Christmas and the very night before New Year’s Eve. People all over are out and about prepping for a night of fun and festivities. Liquor stores and weedmen all around bank big on special occasions like these. Everyone wants to either throw the biggest end of the year bash or at the very least attend the biggest end of the year bash, full of what my elders would call “Burning Water” and “The Devils Lettuce”.

I guess I should be out doing the same but lately, as I get up in years those type of parties tend to lose their luster. The last one I tended to, was just to get over a bad breakup, and calling it “Bad” was putting it kindly. That was a wound that has long since healed I guess, time gave way to a new wave of thinking and maturing. Sitting in Starbucks enjoying the latest special menu items, a Black and White Frappuccino and the BOGO Protein box, BBQ Chicken and Power Slaw, I couldn’t help but notice a young couple in the midst of a heated argument in their car. Hand gesture and rapid aggressive movement said all that had to be said. They got out, walked in, made their order, taking a seat out on the patio a few chairs across from me.

“Why do you keep doing this?” he said. “Why can’t you just trust me, shit. I don’t say anything when you be out with those bitches of yours.”

“Trust you? Are you fucking kidding me, I couldn’t trust yo hoe ass to go to the damn grocery store without you fishing for some stray bitch, let along go to a fucking party without me.”

“Wooooow, really? Okay really, you think I would fuck around on you?”

“It wouldn’t be the first, hell not even the 21st.”

“Tsk,” he sucked his teeth in irritation, “Really? Like fa real you just going to bring up the past like that? Why can’t you let shit go, damn!” He shot up walking off, she quickly followed behind him. They both got into their vehicles slamming their doors, and I just couldn’t help but dig up a conversation I had with a coworker the other day about relationships.

     Love is like planting a seed.

We all want those grand “Relationship Goals” we see plastered all on social media, dripping down our timeline. But do you understand just what it took to get there? What they had to endure and overcome to get where they are? Just how many other trial and error relationship they had to go through before finding each other.

How many times did they have to plant that seed called love?

You see when you sow that extraordinary seed, you expected it to grow and mature into something promising, especially if you invest so much time into it.

But if the soil is troubled, then nothing will be able to grow from it, nothing hopeful at the very least. Sometimes we just need to know when to uproot and replant in fresher, better soil.

A wise woman once told me, “Never take from the old and pot it with the new all that will do is spoil and weaken your seedling. Let new be new and the old stay old. The best thing to do is to take what you learned from the last and adjust to how you handle this new rooting.” She would go on to add. “Never take to how green other flowers are it only takes from the color of yours. Stay focus on what’s yours not there’s because with enough TLC it to will grow vibrant and fierce.” Back then I didn’t understand much of what she was talking about, but now as I sit here sipping down this Frappuccino, in this mildly cold southern afternoon; I believe I understand just what she was getting at.

Plant your Seed in the right soil, then and only then when you nurture it right, it will grow into a strong and prosperous Tree. A tree that only gets’s stronger as time passes and leaves its mark for future generations. Grow your Love to become a beautiful and healthy relationship.


Chapter 3 (Final V)

“Well, I don’t mean to take too much of you folk’s is time. My name is Sheriff Walton-”

“Walton? As in Alice Walton?” Kassidy interjected.

“The same.”

“Omg, it’s been ages! Do you remember me?”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! As I said before, I know just about everyone around these here parts, and you know different Kassie.”

Evidently, in time passed, the sheriff and my wife shared fond memories with one another. Kassidy, a dainty, brash, fun-loving country gal from Cusseta, Ga running through woods barefoot in the soft mountain soil., and Alice, a tomboyish ruffian who knew no fear, always striving for the next adventure. Then again maybe it was the other way around? That it was Kassidy, the wild child who moved outward to the big city of Atlanta, gradually adjusting to city ways and Alice was the Fragile country flower that matured to the robust woman standing at our door today. Time has a way of changing some people.

“Let us not be rude, would you like to come in? We were just about to have breakfast.” I offered.

“Hey yea, we can catch up for old time sake” Kassidy added.

“I thank you, but and as nice as that would be, I’m afraid I must decline this time around. There are other matters that beacon my attention and other homes I need to reach out to before then, so I’ll have to hurry right along. If you haven’t already, I’m telling you now that you may want to either stock up or hurry on back to the city. The weatherman tells of massive snowstorm heading our way. Shouldn’t last too long, a couple nights at the most, all honestly you folk should be fine if all was aim to do was spend quality time together than I wouldn’t cut out early.”

“Oh, well thank you, Sheriff,” I said with my hand extended out.

“No thank you for the time and for bein’ so gracious.” Sheriff Walton brace my hand into hers. Warm and rigid, the hand density of person that worked hard for everything they own.

“It’s always a pleasure to see a familiar face, who knows, maybe next time I’ll take you folks up on some of that fine eatin’.” Sheriff Walton tipped her hat to us again with that cheery smile. She hoisted herself up into her SUV and cranked up the engine. It bellowed a gust of exhaust as she rolled downed her window. “Y’all have a good one ya hear.” Sheriff waved backing out.

It wasn’t long before she was no more than fading cloud of dirt and snow.

“I think we’ll be good, although we probably should head into town and stock up on a few necessities.”

“Yea and YOU need to call the Grands and let them know we won’t be back for Christmas.”

“Shit that’s right! The kid’s presents! Well, we did have half the gifts still tucked away and wrapped so they should be good. Besides Mommy and Daddy coming back from the north pole with even more gifts should send them into a frenzy of joy.”

“Good thinking King, be sure to let them know that, I’m hungry and I’m sure the food is about lukewarm by now so I’ll warm up Breakfast and you get a movie set up for us to watch.” Kassidy kissed my lips and sauntered on back into the bedroom, I soon followed suit to set up the TV for a bit of Netflix, breakfast, and that rekindling of flame, Sheriff Walton spoke of