mnrgroup

Original Horror

2008-01-25T00:02:00.001-08:00

Cynthia Norris sat in her cubicle, checking her email for what seemed like 50th time that day. Actually, it was more like that night. She looked over at the red led clock beside her PC, "11:04 p.m." Could it really be that late? She thought, it was only 8:22 p.m. a few minutes ago. Time always seemed to fly when she worked.
What had she done since the last time she looked at the clock? She tried to think. "Two project plans and three emails." She thought out loud. Yes, there had been over 2 and a half-hours work since then.
She leaned back in her chair, and laced her hands behind her head. A yawn escaped her before she even realized it. It was definitely time to call it a night.
This project would further automate the pharmaceutical plants she was responsible for. She knew it would automate part of the quality control system by randomly selecting quantities of the product and doing the test with a computer chemical analyzer. She knew that it would probably put about 50 chemists and shift workers out of a job, but it was promised to save the company over ten million a year. For that, she received a fat bonus.
She was thinking about her upcoming vacation to Italy. She was daydreaming about strolling along the Arno River. Then she thought of writing a cute little email to her fiancée.
She began to type "Dear Philip, this has been a tough project and I know we haven’t been able to see much of each other. I’m really sorry. I can’t wait to go—"
A loud ring from her desk phone brought her out of here reverie. The Caller ID on the phone read "0000- XXXXX" with no name.
"All zeros?" She thought out loud. She thought that all zeros must be the front desk operator, or at this time of night it was a front desk security guard.
"Norris here." She answered with her usual cool business voice.
Silence.
Must be either a wrong number or a glitch in the phone system.
She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Some coffee would be good before the drive home. She got up from her seat and stretched. She started to walk toward the coffee machine when her phone started to ring again. She glanced down at the display again.
"0000-XXXXX"
This time she just pushed the speakerphone button.
"Norris." She breathed.
She was answered by some low-pitched electronic tones.
She pushed the speakerphone button again, hanging up the phone and started on her way toward the coffee machine.
As she walked it seemed like the phones in each of the cubes she came to rang and stopped ringing as she passed.
"Hello?" She called out to the empty office. "Is there anyone here?"
Silence.
She shrugged and made her way in to the break room.
As she walked into the hall she gazed out the window and saw the first tell –tale signs of and approaching thunderstorm. She saw lightening strikes in the distance and a slight rumble.
She inserted a quarter and a dime into the coffee machine. A cup dropped down into the vend area, and faithfully filled with hot coffee.
From behind her she heard a scraping/grinding sound.
She spun and saw the door on the coffee supply closet shaking slightly.
Then there was a strange "turning" sound.
"Hello?" she choked. The sound of her voice sounded feeble.
She slowly approached the closet. The door was knocking and the scraping sound started again. In a rush she raced to it and flung it open.
In a startled shock, a pile of white Styrofoam cups fell as a mass of flailing black fur and claws came flying out with a shriek.
She jumped back three paces as the office cat, Samantha, came skittering across the floor.
]
The cat had been "hired" to handle the mouse problem they had incurred and done a good job of it. Someone had probably opened the supply cabinet door, the cat ran in without him or her noticing, and they closed it again.
Samantha crouched in a corner, and stared at Cynthia, her tail twitching.
Poor thing was probably scared. Cynthia went to the refrigerator, retrieved the carton of milk people used for coffee, sniffed it and added a splash to her coffee. Thinking better of it, she filled a small Styrofoam thimble with milk and put it on the floor near Samantha.
The cat inched forward and sniffed at the milk tentatively. She began to lap at it, all the while not taking her keen eyes off of Cynthia.
Cynthia took her coffee, and went back to her desk. A ringing phone greeted her. This time without looking at the ID she picked it up and put it to her ear. She didn’t say anything, expecting the computer tones again.
She almost replaced the receiver when a voice bellowed, "Hello Cynthia!" The voice was deep and slightly electronic, it reminded her of the Master Control Program from TRON.
"Who is this?" This time she glanced down at the caller ID. It read "666- Diavolo."
"This is your Master, Cynthia. I wanted to thank you for all the souls you have sent me." The voice bellowed an insidious laugh.
She adopted a ‘very funny’ tone, "OK, I know you IT guys are bored down in the telephone data center, but quit this shit now."
"Ah, Cynthia, if you only knew. How many valuable employees have you put out of work in your career? Do you even know?" The voice was gloomily jubilant.
"Look, I don’t know who you are, or what your trying to do but—" she is cut off.
"Cynthia, innocence through ignorance is one thing. It is a taste I have enjoyed through the ages. " The voice no longer seems to be coming from the phone now but from all around. "But your innocence is tainted in a way that is unique to this century… I must taste your soul."
Cynthia’s heart was pounding now. She reached for the phone receiver to call security. If this was a joke it had gone far enough. She went to dial the number and discovered the entire keypad and much of the phone was melted.
She swallowed hard a taste like swallowing a penny. It was adrenaline, and right now she felt like she could jump out of her skin. She jumped up from her seat and ran to use the phone in the next cubicle.
The keypad was also molten. So were all of them.
"I must be crazy!" She thought aloud. She had her hands over her ears interlaced in her hair.
The voice bellowed. "How many people have you put out of work in the name of PROGRESS!? Do you know!? A hundred!? A Thousand!? How many of them killed themselves!? Do you know how many of their souls I have feasted on!?"
A deep, sickening, macabre, laugh rumbled the floor beneath her.
She ran to the elevator and pushed the down button furiously. Seconds ticked. They seemed like years.
The voice continued, "…your soul must taste unique! It is flavored by indirect, ignorant sins! I must taste it!!"
With agonizing slowness, the doors parted and admitted her into the waiting elevator car. She ran in, her side slamming against the veneer wall. She pounded the "door close" button and then P4 where her car was parked, four levels above the lobby. The doors slapped shut.
"Where did you think you could run!?" The voice boomed.
It suddenly became very cold in the elevator. Cynthia folded her arms about herself. She could see her own breath. She shivered. The elevator began to descend rapidly. The lights in the elevator car flickered. Cynthia closed her eyes and squeezed out hot tears.
She opened her eyes again and saw the lights blinking on and off. In one of the flashes on she saw a figure in the car next to her. The figure was not standing, but hanging. It was a man in a hard hat and safety glasses. She recognized his uniform as the same worn by the shift workers in the Chemical Plants she automated last year. He was hanging by noose made by a computer cable. His face was pallid and white and his eyes open seemed to stare at her…no…through her.
Then the lights went out again. The elevator rocked back and forth. She heard the hanging body hit the wall. Then the lights came on again and a different figure was in the car with her. She recognized him as the plant Q/A supervisor. He wore a sour expression on a bloodless face. He offered his wrists to her, revealing the "T" shaped slash wounds. Blood was spurting out of them in puddles. The figure let out a moan.
Cynthia tried to scream. All that came out now was a hoarse wail.
The lights flashed out again. This time when they came back on, it wasn’t a wretched suicide victim, it was an imposing dark figure. This figure had glowing, red eyes, black lips, a set of wickedly misshapen teeth and two black ram’s horns protruding from its forehead.
It moved closer and opened it’s mouth. She could feel it’s hot breath in the numbing cold. It’s breath stank like burning sulfur and it’s presence was palpable.
"I WILL TASTE YOU." It whispered, and smiled. A cold wet tongue protruded and licked her cheek.
The lights went out again. Cynthia prayed for a quick and painless death. Anything, rather than to face that creature again. She could still feel and smell its breath.
The lights came on. This time she was alone, and the doors opened to reveal a nearly empty parking garage level.
Cynthia was shaking now. The summer air in the parking lot felt warm and inviting against her skin compared to the freezing cold of the elevator. She peered out of the door and found the floor was as deserted as it looked.
She ran out of the elevator car and made a mad dash for her car. The lot was nearly empty and she had little trouble finding it.
"Oh shit," she thought, "my purse is upstairs."
Then she realized she needed her key to go to the break room. Her hands fell to her pants pockets. Her keys were blessedly in her right front pocket. She retrieved the small ring of keys on the Mustang key fob. With her hands shaking she managed to find the right key and open the car door.
Cynthia felt her stomach rise into her mouth as with a wail her car’s alarm went off. She had to swallow hard to keep from retching. She fumbled with her keys once more and located the remote alarm switch. With a chirp, the siren stopped.
She used the door for balance and fell into the driver’s seat. With a vital need to feel secure she swung her legs in and slammed the door home. Reaching out with her left fingernail, missing the button twice, she pushed the auto door lock.
She closed her eyes for a second and breathed. She felt her heart pounding.
With a familiarity with every cheap horror movie she had ever seen, she was sure the dark creature was in the back seat. She could still smell its hot stinking breath and still feel its wet slimy tongue on her cheek.
She looked in her rear view mirror and saw a flash of something red. She spun around in her seat to see…nothing but the red scarf she had worn the day before and casually threw on the back dashboard. Reaching out with her left hand she snatched it off the back dash and threw it to the floor by the back seats.
She straightened in the driver’s seat and saw the dark figure looming in front of the car.
"Damn it, enough!" She said. She slapped the key into the ignition. The V8 started with a roar as she gunned the gas. . This thing had scared the daylights out of her, and she had just reached her breaking point.
Depressing the clutch she jammed the car into first. She felt in control now. She narrowed her eyes and aimed for the figure. She slammed down savagely on the gas and snapped her foot off of the clutch.
With a howl of rubber on tarmac the Mustang’s tires spun and smoked. With the fury and raw power of one of Ford’s strongest engines, the car barreled forward.
The car’s speedometer read 50 MPH when it passed harmlessly through the figure. The speedometer read 70 MPH as it struck and passed through the guardrails. As the Mustang became a thing of the air, flipping completely over once, before striking the asphalt of Broad Street and bursting into flames.
"…Must’ve been suicide." The garage attendant told the investigators. The security video footage showed a very distraught Cynthia Norris, getting into her car by herself, accidentally setting off of the alarm, resetting it, and driving like "a bat out of hell" directly for the nearest guard rail and over.
Her company was very upset at her loss, but was grateful for all the work she had done on the automation project and are implementing her plans. However, the company’s internal communications department was very upset at what the thunder and lightening had done to some of the desk telephones.

Success Stories

2008-01-25T00:00:00.001-08:00

My daughter, Aimee, is autistic. She didn’t talk and would not give me any eye contact. I had traveled to visit my mother, and before I left, I had purchased pull-ups for nighttime, but I forgot to bring them.
It was evening and Aimee had some orange juice. She gave me the sign language for more. I then said (more or less to myself rather than her), "Oh, I forgot the pull-ups. I’m afraid if you have too much to drink you’ll wet the bed. I should’ve brought them." She continued to sign "more." I continued to mutter. Finally, she looked me in the eyes, and fervently said, "I," pointing to herself, "want more," giving sign for more, "or-ange juice, please." Needless to say she got her juice! - L.T., Hamilton, NJ
I am not a parent, but a proud older sister of a 15-year-old brother who is blind and autistic. As a child, Meir would constantly get upset when something would bother him. Getting upset included screaming uncontrollably and getting completely out of hand. With the loving and constant guidance of my parents, Meir (even though he has a long way to go), expresses himself way better than before. - S.S., Brooklyn, NY
My youngest son, Brayden, was born three months premature with heart and brain defects. He is now 4 ½ years old. He is multi-handicapable. When he was young, the doctors told us he probably wouldn't survive, much less ever sit, walk, talk, or eat. He began eating orally a year and a half ago. He began talking one year ago, and is now nearly age appropriate in expressive communication! The most exciting accomplishment, however, is his walking. He had a bilateral tendon release on his hamstrings and gastrocs last November. Since recovering from the surgery, he began pulling to stand, cruising furniture, and could take up to 6 independent steps, even without his walker! Only other parents of children with special needs can understand the intense emotion that surrounds such feats!
Now, he is walking around the house with little assistance and now able to squat to pick something up and stand up again without help!! I cannot wait for the day that he can walk up to those nay-saying doctors and show them who is really in charge!! - J.B., Bartlesville, OK
My almost 7-year-old is only about 4 months in her development and very tiny (the size of a 15-month-old). She has never done anything "age appropriate" til now... she just lost her first tooth and has 3 more loose ones, just like a "normal" 6-year-old. It's funny to see my family so excited about something so small to most people. - J.J., Denton, MD
I would like to share with you my story of my son. "S" was born at 26 weeks gestation weighing 880 grams (1 lb. 15 oz). After 81 days in the NICU and a typical course of being a preemie with all of their complications, he came home weighing 4 lbs. 3 oz. Such a joy! He received early intervention services for a time, but was discharged after about a year because he was hitting his developmental milestones and seemed to be on track.
When he was 18 months old, we were in a car wreck which left him a low-level quadriplegic. After five months of the ICU, rehab, and another stay in the ICU, he came home. Such a joy! He again received early intervention services under a new diagnosis and later was transitioned into the school system for services. He has since had multiple hospitalizations for pneumonia, seizures, and surgeries (the most recent being anterior and posterior spinal fusion).
"S" is now 13 years old and a Boy Scout Second Class. Two weeks ago he was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society - SUCH A JOY! I am very proud of my son! - A.S., Fredericksburg, VA
My son, Christian, was born with a genetic anomoly (2p+) and has since been diagnosed with autism. My wife and I went through the typical grieving and realignment of our own expectations through his younger years. Through all of the doctors, teachers and therapists, we have asked for just one blessing for our family: We prayed that he would be able to communicate with us.
We moved to Houston a couple of years ago and enrolled him in the school program. He has a teacher that loves him dearly and several assistants that take exceptional care of him. His language skills had blossomed from a single word to several one-word responses in a short period of time. One weekend, my wife had left town to attend a family wedding, and I had stayed behind with Christian and his brother, Noah. We went to a local amusement restaurant, since they enjoy playing the games and watching the activities. That evening, as we drove home from the restaurant, Christian began speaking in whole sentences and just "talked my leg off" the entire way home. We joked and he told me all about his evening. Christian's language explosion has continued for several months and has even expanded. He is able to communicate all of his wants and needs and is able to respond to many questions from his parents and teachers.
His language skills are not 100% and they probably never will be, but we could not ask for more than we have already received. Our son can now talk with us and we are grateful. - J.H., Houston, TX
I have so many success stories with my 15-year-old non-verbal autistic son. Communication breakthroughs are my favorites. My favorite moment was when I truly realized that there is a real normal boy inside my son that just can't get out in the typical ways. I had been trying to teach my son how to nod his head yes. He could say the word, "no," but he had no way to indicate the word "yes." So, when he was 13 years old, I decided to work hard on teaching him to nod. He would come home from school and we would work hard on nodding. One day, once again, I said to my son "Eric, nod your head yes," and he looked at me and struggled for a moment and very clearly said, "I can't." I wasn't sure I had heard right so I asked him to nod his head again and he said, "I can't." For two weeks, whenever I asked him to nod, he would say "I can't." I was so incredibly excited. He was right, he couldn't nod his head yes. So, I then taught him to say hmm-mmm for yes and he is able to do that. Now he can communicate yes!
One other moment that truly made me look at Eric different was at lunchtime one day. I was making him choose between lunch items and he was having a hard time. For 15 minutes we went back and forth on choosing. He kept changing his mind. Finally, out of exasperation, he yelled, "Make 'em both!!" My husband and I looked at each other and about died laughing. Guess what? He got both items for lunch!
This boy never ceases to amaze us. He is so intelligent, but he just can't get it out so the world can see. We see, however, and we thank God every day for blessing us with a very special child. - L.P., Kennesaw, GA
They say God only gives special kids to special people, and I really didn't think I was that special to get two of them! But my boys compliment each other well! Matthew keeps Justin physically active and mentally stimulated, and Justin aides Matthew's social abilities and really brings out his personality. They greet each other after school with big hugs - they are brothers AND best friends!!
My oldest son, Justin, is 5 ½ years old and has Down syndrome. He is in a Life Skills class this year, but after Christmas break he started integrating into regular kindergarten class for social times (centers, library, music, recess, etc.). This has helped both his speech and socialization. We just had his end of year ARD and I am very proud of several points. 1) He is scoring, on average, approximately a 4-year-old level academically. 2) He will remain in Life Skills as core class, but has been moved up to FIRST GRADE for inclusion opportunities. 3) Testing done indicated Justin scored 109 in SOCIAL SKILLS (normal range is 90 to 100). He is my social butterfly and everyone instantly falls in love with him. It is nice when I pick him up from school and several other kids from different classes run up to tell Justin "BYE." Everywhere we go, I see kids tapping there mom saying, "Momma, Momma - that's Justin!" He makes me very proud!
Outside of school, we are involved in Special Olympics. He has recently taken pictures on a police motorcycle to be used for fund-raising and at a law enforcement recruitment for personnel to participate in the annual "Torch Run." The Torch Run is law enforcement’s effort to support Special Olympics both personally and financially.
Justin and Matthew have learned to swim without any "floatie" assistance! They are even diving in the shallow end of the pool picking up objects off the bottom, and swimming greater distances underwater. They go swimming at least 2 or 3 times a day!

Horror Stories

2008-01-24T23:59:00.000-08:00

When my son had his G-tube stoma re-positioned (the first one was so high that it rubbed against his ribs as the ribs grew, and took 2 years to "prove," by way of scar path), the GI doctor told me there was an outside chance that the second one might puncture the colon. It was an outside chance, but it was possible. He tried to reduce that possibility by having a surgeon perform the PEG (percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy) procedure. All looked good.
A few weeks later, when the foley catheter (what they put in during the procedure and which stays in the stoma until it's healed well enough) was switched for a MicKey button, it was done simultaneously with a bilateral hip tenotomy, and my son was placed in a cast from the waist to the knees. That procedure was done on a Friday. Because he is medically fragile, he recovered in the PICU.
After a suitable amount of time, they started up the feeds, and my son had really odd diarrhea. It continued, and looked very much like the stuff we were pumping in. It was a big, nasty mess, getting well-integrated into the hip cast. The GI doctor wanted to rule out the "outside chance," and ordered a radiological exam. That was scheduled for Sunday. I went down with my son to radiology, and helped the radiologist (not a technician, but the real thing) perform the procedure. He was so swift, I hardly had the time to look at the image myself. He quickly said the second G-tube was fine.
We went back to PICU and continued to change his diapers every hour. After 3 more days, and a slew of antibiotics, with test results coming back "WNL" (within normal limits), the PICU doctor sent us home, assuming it was a nasty bug picked up from the hospital, from which he would recover best at home. We left continuing to change his diaper every hour.
Two weeks later, my son, having lost weight, was now listless and pale. The GI doctor, thoroughly confused, ordered a lower GI study. Fortunately, we were able to get the best pediatric GI radiologist (since retired, sadly) in the LA area. He found nothing wrong with the lower GI, so he checked the upper GI just in case. And lo and behold, there it was, clearly evident that the G-tube was misplaced. The error was corrected, my son "plumped back up," was less irritable overall, and was hospital-free for an amazing 2 years. The GI doctor apologized to me for the error, but I told him he was not to blame; it was the radiologist who ruled it out. - L.S., Altadena, CA
My "Horror Story" began when my daughter turned 3 and "graduated" from the ECI (Early Childhood Intervention) program in my little town and transitioned into the public school district. My daughter is and has been undiagnosed but is being labeled with cerebral palsy. Panic began after I was introduced to her teacher and the teacher told me that bottles were not allowed in her room. My daughter had low muscle tone in and around her mouth and was having a hard time transitioning to a training cup. I used the 2 months before school started to frantically work with her to get her off the bottle. I did not succeed. I told the diagnostician that I was sorry that I couldn't get her off the bottle, and she said it was no big deal. When I told her what the teacher told me, she said there was no such rule. Whew!
Next ordeal: My daughter spent one week in the hospital after a scary seizure that was prompted by a high fever. She stopped breathing, but my husband and I know CPR, thank God. She had many tests performed that week. I went to pick her up the first day she returned to school and found her parked in front of an open door (in January). She was soaked from her hips to her knees in her urine. I was highly upset. I made sure the teacher was aware and reported it to the Special Education department and the school's office. 2 weeks later, I was called at work and told that she fell out of her wheelchair (a child that cannot walk or move around on her own?). I rushed to school to find the sweet face of my little one bruised and swollen. Apparently, the teacher allowed another child to push her through the gravel playground. She was supposedly strapped in, but if she was, she wouldn't have fallen out. I had to take her to the hospital for an MRI and a check over. I had enough and reported the teacher to Child Protective Services. After an investigation was done, the teacher was not allowed to return to teaching (at least in our school district). That year was filled with non-stop frustration of "weird" incidences and off-the-wall statements from the teacher on how I should take care of my daughter. Being in a small town, I was unable to find a daycare that would take on a child with special needs, much less an individual that would be willing to care for her. The only comfort I had in leaving my daughter in the school was that my husband's cousin was one of the aides in the class and promised to watch over my little one when she could.
In the second year with the public school district, my daughter was bitten twice, and sent home repeatedly "sick," when she was not. I learned later that some kids were sent home "sick" due to the fact that if the aides or teacher called in sick, there was no one to cover. I met with the superintendent of the school regarding many issues that had been going on since my daughter had been enrolled, but that got me nowhere. I also talked to many other parents that had stories of their own. I then made the superintendent aware of problems I had heard about from the other parents. Reasons given were that the assistant superintendent was in the process of quitting and any follow-up and investigation had fallen through the cracks. Also, they said that the teacher did very well during her interview and was hired due to the fact that she had worked with children with special needs in a high school for 1 year.
In the third year with the same school district, I thought things were going to be better. The PPCD program had gone through 4 teachers within my daughter’s two years in that class. I was finally impressed with her new teacher, but one month later she quit and moved away.
Last year, her teacher was much nicer and experienced BUT my daughter didn't get to finish the year without having a bad accident. She was propped up against a bar in a big metal spaceship on the playground. She was not spotted (my daughter can bear weight on her legs but cannot stand on her own). She fell back and split her head open. This resulted in her getting 3 staples put in her head.
In closing, my daughter is now 6 years old. My daughter's experiences prompted for me to search for a new, safe learning environment. I loved the town I was living in but the Special Education department had too much to be desired. I just bought a home in a new town and am thrilled with her new class and teacher. She's already showing signs of improving and seems to love her new classmates. - L.E.B., Pflugerville, TX
My non-verbal son was bitten by a fellow first grade classmate as they were preparing to leave for the day. He was crying uncontrollably so they took him to the nurse. She called us to come get him, saying to my stepson something about this kind of child shouldn't be in school. Once I got there my son showed me clearly what had happened. We returned to the room where the incident occurred and he was able to indicate who bit him to the teacher and other classmates; even though that child had left for the day. The nurse had also indicated to me that he shouldn’t be in that school, because she couldn't understand him (something to that effect). This was all during the chaos of kids being called to the buses, etc., so I couldn't be sure of what was said. Because of this, I didn't report it. - S.C., Pittsburgh, PA
Here are several Horror Stories that come to mind:
1. At birth, as my ob-gyn doctor was finishing up my C-section, the neonatologist had examined our firstborn baby girl. Facing away from me, she put her arm around my husband to tell him of her findings. The single word "chromosome" floated across the room and struck my ear, at which point I went into shock and started screaming for my husband... (Our daughter has Down syndrome.). Then, my trusted ob-gyn muttered to the doctor next to him, "Oh, I had suspected that." (Without mentioning this to us? Huh?)
2. The home care physical therapist had us grasping our baby by the arms with her head flailing back unsupported, taking her from lying to sitting. Even my mother knew that looked WRONG and had us stop doing it soon after.
3. A pediatric psychologist examining our 5-year-old and concluding, "Just look at her... you can see the child inside her she would have been..." - Anonymous by request, San Diego, CA
I am a mother of two boys. One is listed ADD/hyper and dysthemic disorder. He is 16 years old. The other is a 19-year-old that is listed EMH at school, but on record ADD/hyper, dysthemic disorder and intermitted explosive disorder. The state found the school system guilty of not giving a free appropriate education, no transition plan, and no behavior plan. The whole IEP was not valid. I have literally stayed at the school just about every day because teachers would not do their job. I finally asked for a bed and a room to live in. With all the complaining from us and the state to do the IEP right and to get it in order, it was to no avail. Now, because of them not seeing that all the federal laws were handled the way they were suppose to be, there was legal action against my child.
All the advocacy group tells you to do is to write letters. Letters are good and keeping good records is important, but it does not make them do their job. They tell you they are no different from other children and that is how they are treated. If they had put in place the behavior plan, behavior specialist, and private tutoring or home bound as requested and had read the doctor reports, we would have not gone to court over assault on a government official. Had his one-on-one aide been there, this might not have happened.
When you are at a meeting at school and you want something done or request an evaluation, please write it down. If they tell you they are going to do something, document it on the IEP or on the back of the paper for the school. I have all my papers, and if they had done their IEP right, this would never have happened.
We have now finished with the courts. The free lawyer that the court appointed requested a forensic evaluation. He found that Jacob was indeed mentally retarded and mentally incompetent. At court, the D.A. still wanted to have the trial. So we went another week later for the competency hearing and the same day after that was suppose to be the trial if they found him mentally competent. The D.A. put the one-on-one aide on the stand and tried to prove that my son knew what he had done. He asked the normal questions, like how he was doing in school, if he was doing things like the other students and if he seemed normal to him. The aide answered yes to all. Our lawyer then asked what kind of a degree did he have in special education and he said a high school diploma. The lawyer also asked why he was working with him and he said just to help him out some. He also said that he did not need that much help but he was hired for the explosive disorder. My son has never been in trouble at school like this before.
The school and I went to the manifestation meeting and all that ever came out was that the resource officer was elbowed. Nothing else had been proven otherwise. From what I have put together, my son might have elbowed him to kid around with him. There are really no witnesses to the incident. The teacher’s statement that was taken proved that, but there was one teacher’s statement that makes me wonder if the officer had done something to provoke my son. The statement read: "Officer Johnson told my son to hit him again and then he placed him under arrest." Why would he tell my son to hit him again? I have asked for the SBI and the FBI and also the local police to investigate the officer, but they all have refused. It is bad enough to tell a "normal" person to hit you again, much less a mentally retarded student that has explosive disorder.
When one of my son’s special education teachers took the stand, he was also asked what kind of a degree he had in special education and he stated he had a masters degree in agriculture

SOFTWARE HORROR STORIES

2008-01-24T23:57:00.000-08:00

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The Mars Climate Orbiter crashed in September 1999 because of a "silly mistake": wrong units in a program. Story Story Report
The 1988 shooting down of the Airbus 320 by the USS Vincennes was attributed to the cryptic and misleading output displayed by the tracking software. Story More
Death resulted from inadequate testing of the London Ambulance Service software. Story
Several 1985-7 deaths of cancer patients were due to overdoses of radiation resulting from a race condition between concurrent tasks in the Therac-25 software. Report Report Story More More More More
Errors in medical software have caused deaths. Details in B.W. Boehm, "Software and its Impact: A Quantitative Assessment," Datamation, 19(5), 48-59(1973).
An Airbus A320 crashes at an air show. Story
A China Airlines Airbus Industrie A300 crashes on April 26, 1994 killing 264. Recommendations include software modifications. Summary
The British destroyer H.M.S. Sheffield was sunk in the Falkland Islands war. According to one report, the ship's radar warning systems were programmed to identify the Exocet missile as "friendly" because the British arsenal includes the Exocet's homing device and allowed the missile to reach its target, namely the Sheffield. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American, vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 48.
An error in an aircraft design program contributed to several serious air crashes. From P. Naur and B. Randell, eds., Software Engineering: Report on a Conference Sponsored by the NATO Science Committee, Brussels, NATO Scientific Affairs Division, 1968, p. 121.
An Air New Zealand airliner crashed into an Antarctic mountain; its crew had not been told that the input data to its navigational computer, which described its flight plan, had been changed. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American, vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 52.
The Ariane 5 satellite launcher malfunction was caused by a faulty software exception routine resulting from a bad 64-bit floating point to 16-bit integer conversion. Report Story Story Story Story
During the maiden flight of the Discovery space shuttle, 30 seconds of (non-critical) real-time telemetry data was lost due to a problem in the requirement stage of the software development process. Story
A train stopped in the middle of nowhere (London' Docklands Light Railway) due to future station location changes after the software was deployed and reluctance to change the software. Story
The Dallas/Fort Worth air-traffic system began spitting out gibberish in the Fall of 1989 and controllers had to track planes on paper. "Ghost in the Machine," Time Magazine, Jan. 29, 1990. p. 58. Story
Several Space Shuttle missions have been delayed due to hardware/software interaction problems. Story
An airplane software control returned inappropriate responses to pilot inquiries during abnormal flight conditions. Story
The Pathfinder reset problem. Story More
An Iraqi Scud missile hit Dhahran barracks, leaving 28 dead and 98 wounded. The incoming missile was not detected by the Patriot defenses, whose clock had drifted .36 seconds during the 4-day continuous siege, the error increasing with elapsed time since the system was turned on. This software flaw prevented real-time tracking. The specifications called for aircraft speeds, not Mach 6 missiles, for 14-hour continuous performance, not 100. Patched software arrived via air one day later. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol 16, #3. See Story More More More
Bug-infested [air traffic control software] was scoured by software experts at Carnegie-Mellon and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to determine whether it could be salvaged or had to be canceled outright. Story
Were a missile to approach at a certain tricky angle (all) 27 programs would fail to shoot it down. Story
The Apollo 8 spacecraft erased part of the computer's memory. From G. J. Myers, Software Reliability: Principles & Practice, p. 25.
Eighteen errors were detected during the 10-day flight of Apollo 14. From G. J. Myers, Software Reliability: Principles & Practice, p. 25.
A 1963 NORAD exercise was incapacitated because a software error caused the incorrect routing of radar information. From G. J. Myers, Software Reliability: Principles & Practice, p. 25.
The U.S. Strategic Air Command's 465L Command System, even after being operational for 12 years, still averaged one software failure per day. From G. J. Myers, Software Reliability: Principles & Practice, p. 25.
An error in a single FORTRAN statement resulted in the loss of the first American probe to Venus. From G. J. Myers, Software Reliability: Principles & Practice, p. 25.
On June 3, 1980, the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) reported that the U.S. was under missile attack. The report was traced to a faulty computer circuit that generated incorrect signals. If the developers of the software responsible for processing these signals had taken into account the possibility that the circuit could fail, the false alert might not have occurred. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American, vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 48.
The manned space capsule Gemini V missed its landing point by 100 miles because its guidance program ignored the motion of the earth around the sun. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American, vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 49.
Five nuclear reactors were shut down temporarily because a program testing their resistance to earthquakes used an arithmetic sum of variables instead of the square root of the sum of the squares of the variables. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American, vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 49.
In a 1977 exercise, when it was connected to the command-and-control systems of several regional commands, the WWMCCS had an average success rate for message transmission of only 38 percent. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American, vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 51.
Aegis was installed on the U.S.S. Ticonderoga, a Navy cruiser. After the Ticonderoga was commissioned the weapon system underwent its first operational test. In this test it failed to shoot down six out of 16 targets because of faulty software; earlier small-scale and simulation tests had not uncovered certain system errors. In addition, because of test-range limitations, at no time were more than three targets presented to the system simultaneously. For a sizable attack approaching Aegis' design limits the results would most likely have been worse. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American , vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 51.
On June 19, 1985 the Strategic Defense Initiative Organization performed a simple experiment: The crew of the space shuttle was to position the shuttle so that a mirror mounted on its side could reflect a laser beamed from the top of a mountain 10,023 feet above sea level. The experiment failed because the computer program controlling the shuttle's movements interpreted the information it received on the laser's location as indicating the elevation in nautical miles instead of feet. As a result the program positioned the shuttle to receive a beam from a nonexistent mountain 10,023 nautical miles above sea level. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American , vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 51.
The first operational launch attempt of the space shuttle, whose real-time operating software consists of about 500,000 lines of code, failed because of a synchronization problem among its flight-control computers. The software error responsible for the failure, which was itself introduced when another error was fixed two years earlier, would have revealed itself, on the average, once in 67 times. From "The development of software for ballistic-missile defense," by H. Lin, Scientific American, vol. 253, no. 6 (Dec. 1985), p. 52.
"The change was so simple he didn't feel he had to inform anyone that it took place and the mistake he made was so stupid. He had no idea of the damage it would caused." The day after the product shipped 50 beta testers called and reported that all the paychecks were being printed at zero dollars. Story
The Sendmail security bug. Story
INTEL processor bugs galore. List Pentium discussion
A computer-monitored house arrest inmate escaped and subsequently committed murder. This was caused by the reporting software not re-trying when it received a busy signal at the main computer number. Story
The clock in the video camera indicated a customer had withdrawn his money at the same time as a fraud occurred, so the bank forwarded his photo to the authorities. The clock had been off by about one hour. Story
The nine-hour breakdown of AT&T's long-distance telephone network in Jan. 1990, caused by an untested code patch, dramatized the vulnerability of complex computer systems everywhere. "Ghost in the Machine," Time Magazine, Jan. 29, 1990. p. 58. Story
On July 1-2, 1991, computer-software collapses in telephone switching stations disrupted service in Washington DC, Pittsburgh, Los Angeles and San Francisco. Once again, seemingly minor maintenance problems had crippled the digital System 7. About twelve million people were affected in the crash of July 1, 1991. Said the New York Times Service: "Telephone company executives and federal regulators said they were not ruling out the possibility of sabotage by computer hackers, but most seemed to think the problems stemmed from some unknown defect in the software running the networks." Within the week, a red-faced software company, DSC Communications Corporation of Plano, Texas, owned up to glitches in the signal transfer point software that DSC had designed for Bell Atlantic and Pacific Bell. The immediate cause of the July 1 crash was a single mistyped character: one tiny typographical flaw in one single line of the software. One mistyped letter, in one single line, had deprived the nations capital of phone service. It was not particularly surprising that this tiny flaw had escaped attention: a typical System 7 station requires ten million lines of code. From The Hacker Crackdown, by Bruce Sterling, 1992. Story More More More
During a payday rush in 1989, a faulty program shut down 1,800 automated-teller machines at Tokyo's Dai-Ichi Kangyo Bank. "Ghost in the Machine," Time Magazine, Jan. 29, 1990. p. 58. Story
When an airline's reservation system went down in 1989, 14,000 travel agents had to book flights manually. "Ghost in the Machine," Time Magazine, Jan. 29, 1990. p. 58. Story
In the early 1980s, Buick had to give 80,000 V6 cars a chip transplant to fix flaws in their microprocessors. "Ghost in the Machine," Time Magazine, Jan. 29, 1990. p. 58. Story
The New York Stock Exchange opened one hour late on Dec. 18, 1995 due to a communications problem in the software. Story
Chemical Bank went down for 5 hours on July 20, 1994 due to a file update overloading the computer system. Story
There was a San Francisco 911 system crash of over 30 minutes on Oct. 12, 1995. Patched but not fixed, it still misses between 100-200 calls per day. Story
The hole in Ozone layer over Antartica left undetected for extended period because data was considered anomalous by software because it was out of the specified range. Story
The Denver airport stayed closed for over a year due to software glitches in the automated baggage handling system. Story More
Bell Atlantic Corp. failed to bill approximately 400,000 AT&T customers in parts of Virginia, Maryland, Washington D.C., and West Virginia for their long-distance calls on their January 1998 bill. AT&T stated that their Operations Support Systems provided Bell Atlantic with the correct billing data for three of the twenty billing cycles, customer's billed on the 2nd, 4-5th, and 7th of the month, and that a Bell Atlantic computer error failed to produce the AT&T portion of the bill. Bell Atlantic has stated that the problem was a "systems glitch", "processing error", and/or "data processing error". [Supposedly, computer tapes were used to transfer the billing details between AT&T and Bell Atlantic.] From an AT&T press release, dated 16-Jan-1998, reprinted in the Richmond Times-Dispatch, 17 Jan 1998, p. C10.
Oodles of software will fail in the year 2000. Story More More Lots more
The IRS uncovered an unintended side effect of its effort to eliminate the Year 2000 computer bug: About 1,000 taxpayers who were current in their tax installment agreements were suddenly declared in default due to a programming error. [There are 62 million lines of source code to check; the error was caused by an attempted Y2K fix.] From the Associated Press newswire (AP US & World, 23 Jan 1998, by Rob Wells).
An alert to all National Association of Miniature Enthusiasts (NAME) members: A member recently called the office to find out why she hasn't received her Houseparty Gazette. She discovered that the computer has deactivated ALL members whose memberships expire in the year 2000 and beyond. Kim ... said she had no way of knowing who those folks are unless they call her and let her know. From the rec.arts.dollhouses newsgroup.
One production line shut down when the laser-driven printer putting "sell-by" dates on products couldn't handle the 2000 date. Industry Week, Jan. 5, 1998, p. 26.
Many programs err in, or simply ignore, the century rule for leap years on the Gregorian calendar (every 4th year is a leap year, except every 100th year which is not, except every 400th year which is). For example, early releases of the popular spreadsheet program Lotus 1-2-3 treated 2000 as a non-leap year, a problem eventually fixed. But, all releases of Lotus 1-2-3 take 1900 as a leap year; by the time this error was recognized, the company deemed it too late to correct: ``The decision was made at some point that a change now would disrupt formulas which were written to accommodate this anomaly''. Excel, part of Microsoft Office, has the same flaw. From Calendrical Calculations , N. Dershowitz and E. M. Reingold, p. xviii.
The New York City Taxi and Limousine Commission chose March 1, 1996 as the start date for a new, higher fare structure for cabs. Meters programmed by one company in Queens forgot about the leap day and charged customers the higher rate on February 29. The New York Times, March 1, 1997.
A computer software error at the Tiwai Point aluminum smelter in Southland, New Zealand at midnight on New Year's Eve 1997 caused more than $AU 1 million of damage. The software error was the failure to account for leap years (and considering a 366th day in the year to be invalid), causing 660 process control computers to shut down and the smelting pots to cool. The same problem occurred two hours later at Comalco's Bell Bay smelter in Tasmania (which is two hours behind New Zealand). The general manager of operations for New Zealand Aluminum Smelters, David Brewer, said ``It was a complicated problem and it took quite some time [until midafternoon] to find the cause.'' The New Zealand Herald , January 8, 1997, and The Dominion, in Wellington, New Zealand.
A "computer error" is blamed for a false report of three death by an incurable disease when a woman killed her daughter and tried to kill her son and herself. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 10, no. 3
A Norwegian class gets a pornographic image because of cache problem, when a recycled link leads to a pornographic site. From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS), vol. 19, issue 47.
Computers were blamed when, in three separate incidents, 3 million, 5.4 million, and 1.5 million gallons of raw sewage were dumped into Willamette River. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 13, no. 3.
The U.S. national EFTPOS system crashed on 2 Jun 1997 for two hours and 100K transactions were "lost". One central processor failed and backup procedures to redistribute the load also failed. From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS), vol. 19, issue 21.
Computer blunders were blamed for $650M student loan losses. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes , vol. 20, no. 3.
An Internet routing "black hole" cuts off ISPs; MAI Network Services routing table errors directed 50,000 routing addresses to MAI; InterNIC goofed, as well, 23 Apr 1997. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 22, no. 4.
Votes were lost by a computer in Toronto. The Toronto district finally abandoned computerized voting, leaving a year-old race unresolved. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes , vol. 15, no. 2.
A cat was registered as a voter to demonstrate risks (no pawtograph required). From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 20, no. 1.
A "read-ahead" synchronization glitch and/or an eager operator caused a large data entry error, and the wrong winner was announced in a Rome, Italy city election. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 15, no. 1.
In a German parliament election, the program rounds up the Greens' 4.97%, which was less than the 5% cutoff; when corrected, the Social Democrats attained a one seat majority. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 17, no. 3.
An Oregon computer error reversed election results. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 18, no. 1.
A (CTSS) raw password file was distributed as message-of-the-day, due to an editor temporary file name confusion. See Morris and Thompson, CACM 22, 11, Nov 1979.
The U.S. Social Security Administration systems could not handle non-Anglo names, affecting $234 billion for 100,000 people, some going back to 1937. From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS) , vol 18, issue 80.
Software prevented the correction of a recognized Olympic skating scoring error. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 17, no. 2.
A computer scoring glitch at an Olympic boxing match causes the evident winner to lose. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 17, no. 4.
A man's auto insurance rate triples when he turns 101 (= 1 mod 100). From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 12, no. 1.
A Montreal life insurance company dies due to software bugs in its integrated system. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 17, no. 2.
A computer test residue generates a false tsunami warning in Japan. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 19, no. 3.
Chicago cat owners were billed $5 for unlicensed dachshunds. A database search on "DHC" (for dachshunds) found "domestic house cats" with shots but no license. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 12, no. 3.
The Korean Airlines KAL 901 accident in Guam killed 225 out of 254 aboard. A worldwide bug was discovered in barometric altimetry in Ground Proximity Warning System (GPWS). From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 23, no. 1.
A "computer error" affected hundreds of U.K. A-level exam results. From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS), vol. 19, issue 40.
The Paris police computer mismatched a Corsican city code with postal code, and was unable to collect motorists' fines. From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS), vol. 19, issue 41.
Netscape Communicator 4.02 and 4.01a allowed disclosure of passwords. From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS), vol. 19, issue 34.
A bank robbery "wanted" poster of the wrong person was due to an unchecked match. From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS), vol. 19, issue 29.
The Soviet Phobos I Mars probe was lost, due to a faulty software update, at a cost of 300 million rubles. Its disorientation broke the radio link and the solar batteries discharged before reacquisition. From Aviation Week, 13 Feb 1989.
An F-18 fighter plane crashed due to a missing exception condition. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 6, no. 2.
An F-14 fighter plane was lost to uncontrollable spin, traced to tactical software. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 9, no. 5.
A Parisian computer transforms traffic charges into big crimes. From ACM SIGSOFT Software Engineering Notes, vol. 14, no. 6.
CyberSitter censors "menu */ #define" because of the string "nu...de". From Internet Risks Forum NewsGroup (RISKS), vol. 19, issue 56.
In a heavily loaded computer system, a steady stream of high-priority processes can prevent a low-priority process from ever getting resources. Generally, one of two things will happen. Either the process will eventually be run (at 2 A.M. Sunday, when the system is finally lightly loaded), or the computer system will eventually crash and lose all unfinished low-priority processes.... Rumor has it that, when they shut down the IBM 7094 at MIT in 1973, they found a low-priority process that had been submitted in 1967 and had not yet been run. From Silbershatz and Galvin, pp. 142-143.
GTE Corp. mistakenly printed 50,000 unlisted residential phone numbers and addresses in 19 directories that were leased to telemarkteters in communities between Santa Barbara and Huntington Beach. GTE blames the problem on a software snafu. The company faces fines of up to 1.5 billion dollars, if found guilty of gross negligence. From comp.dcom.telecom newsgroup (27 Apr 1998); X Telecom Digest, Volume 18, Issue 60, Message 4 of 7.
On Sept. 19, 1989 an overflow (of a 2-byte integer) at a Washington, DC hospital caused a computer to collapse and forced them to do things manually.
On Nov. 16, 1989 an overflow (of a 2-byte integer) in the Michingan Terminal System caused a computer crash in Newcastle, followed by crashes all over the U.S.
Midwest Telephone Company had a program to assign telephone numbers with a $5 million annual maintenance budget. In 1981, they reported: "No more than 15 known errors remain unsolved at the end of each month." In fact, people had stopped using the program and were entering numbers manually, leaving the database hopelessly outdated.
Bank of America was forced to write off a $60 million investment in a new software systems and reverted to its 15-year old predecessor.
Due to a software error, Continental Airlines consistently undercharged for plane rentals by one day.
SRI International's computer reset the time by averaging 11 clocks, though one was 12 hours off.
In 1980, the ARPAnet shut down on account of a self-propagating error.
Rumor has it that a military plane flipped over when crossing the equator.
Rumor has it that an Airbus plane crashed into its hangar, since its onboard computer interpreted a bump as turbulence in the air.
Software reboot during the Apollo 11 landing forced Armstrong to manually land the lunar lander. Story
In 1989, Swedish Gripen prototype crashed due to new software in the fly-by-wire system. Story
In 1995, Swedish Gripen fighter plane crashed during air-show. Story
Soldiers killed. Story
Roundup of US government Y2K bugs.
French ticket reservation software took 4 months to get working. Story
In October 1995, 200,000 French civil servants were paid twice.
On May 3, 2000, Paris area telephone service collapsed. Story
Software error causes patients to be declared dead. Story
Shuttle simulator bug. Story
Software suspected in 1994 Chinook helicopter crash, killing 29. Story Report
For two days during the summer holidays in 2004, the French national railroad company's reservation system was disorganized, due to a faulty patch. Report

After he had surveyed his

2008-01-24T23:51:00.000-08:00

After he had surveyed his surroundings to make sure that the coast was clear, Trent entered the underbelly of Portland through an old utility entrance under the rising, steel-grated skeleton of St. John’s Bridge. As he ducked through an open section of chain link fence near one of the bridge’s main columns, he could see the bustle of traffic high above him roaring over the iron-meshed grills - black rubber tires created that comforting sound of ‘home’ as they roared over the metal grates.
Once inside the small, trash-strewn, fenced perimeter of the concrete pillar, Trent scanned the area around him again. Seeing that no one had followed him and that it was safe to proceed, he hurried along through the garden of discarded plastic bottles, mouldy, sun-bleached newspapers, rotted boards, broken glass and used condoms until he had reached a small manhole covered with a rusted iron cover. Again, Trent took a look around and when he was finally convinced that all was safe, he lifted the cover off and slipped down into the darkness that led into the belly of Portland.
Trent placed his foot on the first rusted rung of an iron ladder. The ladder was nothing more than a rickety series of iron strips sunk into the concrete wall that had once been used by Portland city workers decades earlier. When only Trent’s head remained above ground level, he held on to the top rung with a white- knuckle grip. With his free hand he pulled the cover back over the hole and continued the climb down until his feet were firmly planted.
As soon as Trent’s feet hit the concave concrete of the old sewer tributary beneath him, he immediately went into a dead run, hoping that whatever he had just seen above ground would not follow him.
Trent ran through the dark sewer until his heart pumped acid into his veins, making the muscles in his thighs, calves and feet burn. He exhaled; his breath hung in the cold air like a rain cloud. Then he ran some more. He was lucky his instinct guided him through the darkness of these tunnels; he knew them like the back of his hand after living on, and below, the streets of Portland for the last three years. Only when his body could not withstand any more of the abuse, did he stop for a rest on a dimly lit brick ledge under a grate. Above him through the metal grill the noon sun hung in the smog-filled, grey sky, and Trent could hear the bustling of midday traffic, the honking of angry car horns and the patter of pedestrians who went about their business above ground. As Trent sought to catch his breath, he eased back and rested his head against the crumbling, brick-lined sewer wall to relax for awhile to enjoy a cigarette that he fished out of the inside pocket of his denim jacket.
As Trent took in the first stale drag from his cigarette, he pondered over what had just transpired. Maybe he had just imagined it, hadn’t really seen what he thought he had seen in Cathedral Park only a few minutes ago. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Still, Trent had lived on these streets for three years. Down on his luck or not, Trent knew damn well that you have to keep a good head on your shoulders to survive on the streets of Portland - and whatever the hell it was that he had seen, it seemed real enough to him and he wasn't prone to flights of fancy or seeing things that weren't there.
The image played over in his mind again, burned into the backs of his eyes and he could still see it when he blinked - indelible. He wondered why it was that he felt safe down here in the ghost that was once a city, beneath the beast above that was Portland; surely there was considerably more safety in the vast numbers of people on the streets, safety in the sunlight, safety in the day time, above ground, safety in reality and normality. But this was his reality, this was his normal, and this was where he felt safest.
That wasn't right kept ringing inside his head. It was something that should hide in dark places, something that had no place being up-top, on the outside, all the way up there with the regular folks.
He remembered all the old urban legends he'd heard over the years, things his grandfather had told him when he was a little boy on his Gramp’s knee and he thought the old man was 837 years old. He remembered stuff he'd heard at school - from kids and teachers, things he had overheard in coffee shops and bars, out on the street...and under it. Those were the worst ones - the one's he'd heard down here. And yet this was his home, this was the place he felt safe.
In particular, he remembered a story that Guitar John, one of the oldest guys who lived underneath Portland, had told him when he first came underground. At the time he thought that maybe the old hippy who liked to talk to his own hand was just trying to freak the ‘new kid’ out as a part of Trent‘s rite of passage to acceptance in his new home. Still, the grizzled man’s story about a little girl’s disembodied head screaming through the tunnels un-nerved him due to the man‘s flair for vivid details. For weeks after that, Trent would move very cautiously through the tunnels on this side of the city, half expecting something from an old horror movie to jump out from every blind corner he went around. And when the old rusted pipes that ran along the sides of the tunnels would creak and emit inhuman groans that emanated from throughout the entire tunnel system, Trent’s fear would erupt into a dead and blind run that led him haphazardly into sections of dark tunnels that were unknown to him.
Not too bright, nor brave for sixteen years old, but that seemed like a lifetime ago to Trent after being under the streets for three years. He was a man now, wily, street-wise, always ready with a broken bottle to slice into flesh if some newbie got out of hand down here and needed to be cowed.
But it was safer way down here than it was sleeping rough on the dirty streets and the filthy alleys of Portland. They'll fucking kill you for your cardboard quilt as soon as look at you, he was told by a stinking old drunk who turned out to be a famous writer once upon a time, but was now only notorious for being a hopeless drunkard. ‘Sit-ups’ they called him, on account of him having to sleep sitting up in order to avoid choking on his own vomit every night.
He had some chilling memories of being up top when he first got to Portland. Memories that still made beads of cold sweat spider down his spine and a look of child-like fear freeze his gaze whenever he allowed them into his head.
Now, panting in the underbelly of the city like Jonah in the guts of the whale, he felt that way again - too young and too green to be here, the reek of nievety coming off him like stale sweat. He was a little boy again hiding beneath the covers from the monster under the bed, pissing himself rather than put one foot out and onto the floor in case some thing grabbed it, the teenager wondering whether or not to take the shortcut through the cemetery just to make it home on time or take the well-lit way and be roasted alive for being late.
They were all closing in on him now - all the things he’d ever had to live with or get over or deal with. All those things that he’d overcome to get where he was, be by himself, not bothered by anybody anymore. He was a non-person, yes, not even a government statistic, he was nobody. And he’d worked damn hard to become him.

That was when I hit the fucker.

2008-01-24T23:49:00.000-08:00

That was when I hit the fucker. I hit him hard and square on the bridge of the nose; with a hammer, and watched in delight as his funny, laughing face caved in and gushed red-black blood.
I smiled, knowing that I had finally killed him.
And that was when he started laughing at me, his wicked pink plastic face melding back together from the blow I'd dealt him. Giggling as I let out a deep sigh and reached for the hacksaw amidst the pile of torture implements scattered on the table.
I bought him for my daughter's fourth birthday.
I remember walking into the toy section of Wal-Mart, sweating under those phosphorescent lights as I turned a corner and faced a thousand "My Pal" dolls smiling deviantly from the windows of their bright pink boxes. Out of the corners of my eyes I even saw them turn their tiny heads and grin at me through little pairs of fangs as I walked past them.
Fuck, I hate them!
Ever since I was a kid, I was all too aware of the truth behind dolls.
I was five and my parents had let me stay up late to watch "Fantasy Island" on T.V. You know, the one with the midget named "Tattoo"? And in that episode I was made aware that dolls came to life a midnight and ran amok.
I took the hacksaw in my hand and pondered over the little guy bound in the tiny red plastic chair where he had been drinking tea next to the teddy bear before my wife and daughter went to church.
Fucking dolls!
Forget what you think you know about dolls.
Never mind that bear, he's okay in my book and he doesn't say much; but dolls .... They sleep during the day and wake up when everyone is asleep. Plastic ones, porcelain (those are the worst!), cloth, wood or whatever, the whole lot of them come to life at night like the little vampires they really are.
Forget the hacksaw!
They walk around houses and streets at night doing god knows what! I think they even have their own social system.
I plug in the skill-saw, open the throttle full bore and taunt the blade at Pal's face as I grin over him.
"Now you're really gonna get it!" I cackle.
I swear it! Remember when you were a little kid and you used to talk to your toys? They'd answer you back, wouldn't they? Don't tell me that they didn't because you and I both know that they did!
I put the saw up to Pal's neck and he starts to scream as the blade rips through his chin and bright red, blood mingled, pink plastic sawdust sprays the room and I grin as Pal's head falls off the bloody pink stump of his neck onto the floor. I give his head a strong kick for good measure and watch it streak across the playroom and bounce off the wall.
"Take that, pal!" I laugh, and downstairs I go to grab a cold one after a hard day's work. I slump in my chair and click on the tube to watch baseball, but quickly change it to "In Search Of ..." hosted by "Spock" from Star Trek when a "Talking Tina" commercial comes on.
I must have drifted off to sleep from the boredom.
It was dark outside when I awoke and saw the car keys on the table and could hear my wife loudly snoring in bed. I checked my watch.
It was 12:02.
I crept up the stairs quietly and gently pushed on the half open door of my daughter's room.
My daughter was sleeping quietly and there clutched in her tiny arms was Pal. He slowly turned his head, grinned at me with a mouthful of sharp teeth and gave me a short, knowing wave with his tiny arm.
I let out a deep sigh, felt a knot in my stomach and slowly closed the door.
Tonight I won't sleep, and maybe tomorrow I'll have to try the garbage disposal.

the girl's family

2008-01-24T23:45:00.000-08:00

From the very Begining, the girl's family objected strongly on her dating this guy. Saying that it has got to do with family background & that the girl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him.
Due to family's pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: "How deep is your love for me?"
As the guy is not good with his words, this often cause the girl to be very upset. With that & the family's pressure, the girl often vent her anger on him. As for him, he only endure it in silence.
After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated & decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I'll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?"
The girl agreed, & with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in & agreed to let them get married. So before he leave, they got engaged.
The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails & phone calls. Though it's hard, but both never thought of giving up.
One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realised that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice......
The doctors says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.
During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry,.....it's still just silence cry that companied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart everytime it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. & not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.
With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions & millions of reply, and countless of phonecalls,.. all the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying....
The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything & be happy.
With a new environment, the girl learn sign language & started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came & told her that he's back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.
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A year has passed & her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy's wedding. The girl was shattered. When she open the letter, she saw her name in it instead.
When she was about to ask her friend what's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her. He used sign language telling her "I've spent a year's time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You. With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. The girl finally smiled.

The passengers on the bus watched

2008-01-24T23:26:00.000-08:00

The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he'd told her was empty. Then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg.
It had been a year since Susan, 34, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. And all she had to cling to was her husband, Mark.
Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.
Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan, and fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task.
Soon, however, Mark realized the arrangement wasn't working. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But she was still so fragile, so angry - how would she react? Just as he predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again.
"I'm blind!", she responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to know where I am going? I feel like you're abandoning me."
Mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day.
He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt to her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat.
Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus-riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, And his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself.
On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying the fare to exit the bus, the driver said, "Boy, I sure do envy you." Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? Curious, she asked the driver, "Why do you say that you envy me?"
The driver responded, "It must feel good to be taken care of and protected like you are." Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and again asked, "What do you mean?"
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The driver answered, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine-looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you as you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches until you enter your office building.
Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady." Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was lucky, so lucky, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe - the gift of love that can bring light where there is darkness.

He was driving home one evening

2008-01-24T23:23:00.001-08:00

He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small Midwestern community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit looking. Ever since the factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home.
It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, that came in handy.
It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry.
He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan."
Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk.
She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Bryan added "...and think of me."
He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant.
Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor. It didn't ring much. Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.
After the lady finished her meal and the waitress went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, and then she noticed something written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote. It said:
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"You don't owe me anything, I have been there too. Somebody once helped ME out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you."
Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all right, I love you, Bryan."
Please note that this story is an expanded version of the song Chain Of Love by Clay Walker. All rights for this story belong to its respective owners and Love Fate Destiny does not owe any rights to this story.

Peter and Tina are sitting in the park doing nothing

2008-01-24T23:17:00.000-08:00

Message: Peter and Tina are sitting in the park doing nothing, but just gazing into the sky, while all their friends are having fun with their beloved half.Tina: I'm so bored. Just wish I have a boyfriend now to spend time with.Peter: I guess we're the only leftovers. We're the only person who isn't with a date now. (both sigh n silence for a while)Tina: I think I have a good idea. Lets play a gamePeter: Eh? What game?Tina: Eem..It's quite simple. You be my boyfriend for 100 days and I'll be your girlfriend for 100 days. what do you think?Peter: Oookay..Anyway I don't have any plan for the next few months.Tina: You sound like you aren't looking forward to it at all. Cheer up. Today will be our first day and our first date. Where should we go?Peter: What about a movie? I heard that there is a really great movie in theater now.Tina: Seems like I don't have any better idea than this. Lets move. (went to watch their movies and sent each other home)
Day 2:Peter and Tina went to a concert together, and Peter bought Tina a keychain with a star.
Day 3:They went shopping together for a friend's birthday present. Share an ice-cream together and hugged each other for the first time.
Day 7:
Peter drove Tina up onto a mountain and they watch the sunset together. When the night came and the moon glowed, they said sat on the grass gazing at the stars together. A meteor passed by. Tina mumbled something.
Day 25:Spend time at a themepark and got onto rollercoasters, and ate hotdogs and cotton candy. Peter and Tina got in the haunted house and Tina grabbed someone's hand instead of Peter's hand by accident. They laughed togetherfor a while.
Day 67:They drove pass a circus and decided to get in to watch the show. The midget asked Tina to play a part as his assistant in the magic show. Went around to see other entertainments around after the show. Came to a fortune teller and she just said "Treasure every moment from now on" and a tear rolled down the fortune teller's cheek.
Day 84:Tina suggested that they go to the beach. The beach wasn't so crowded that day. They have their first kiss with each other just as the sun is setting.
Day 99:They decided to have a simple day and is deciding to have a walk around the city. They sits down onto a bench.
1:23 pmTina: I'm thirsty. Lets rest for a while first.Peter: Wait here while I go buy some drinks. What would you like?Tina: Eem...Apple juice will be just fine.
1:43 pmTina waiting for about 20 minutes and Peter havent return. Then someone walked up to her.Stranger: Is your name Tina?Tina: Yes, and may I help you?Stranger: Just now down there on the street a drunk driver has crashed into a guy. I think its your friend.Tina ran over to the spot with the stranger and sees Peter lying on the floor with blood over his face and her apple juice still in his hands. The ambulance came and she went to the hospital with Peter. Tina sat outside the emergency room for five and a half hours. The doctor came out, and he sigh.
11:51 pmDoctor: I'm sorry, but we did the best we could. He is still breathing now but God would take him away from us very soon. We found this letter inside his pocket.
The doctor hands over the letter to Tina and she goes into the room to see Peter. He look weak but peaceful. Tina read the letter and then she burst into tears. Here is what the letter said.
Tina, Our 100 days is almost over. I had fun with you during all these days. Although you may be greedy sometimes and less thoughtful, but these all brought happiness into my life. I have realize that you are a really cute girl and blamed myself for never taken the time to knowing that. I have nothing much to ask for, but I just wish that we can extend the day. I want to be your boyfriend forever and wish that you can be beside me all the time. Tina, I love you.
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11:58Tina: (sobbing) Peter. Did you know what was the wish I made on the night there was a meteor. I asked God to let us last forever. We were suppose to last 100 days so Peter! You can't leave me! I LOVE YOU, but can you come back tome now? I love you Peter. I LOVE YOU.
As the clock struck twelve, Peter's heart stopped beating. It was 100 days.NOTE*Tell the guy or girl that you love them beforeits too late. You never know whats going tohappen tomorrow. You never know who will beleaving you and never return

There is a story many years ago of an elementary teacher.

2008-01-24T23:16:00.000-08:00

There is a story many years ago of an elementary teacher. Her name was Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same.
But that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard. Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer - the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
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They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

1986 was a year

2008-01-24T23:13:00.000-08:00

1986 was a year that will change my life forever, sitting outside on one summer's day a flash of beauty just passed me by her name was Zia, now this was love at 1st sight, gasping for breath I tried to get control of my self.
This moment was going to change my life forever.
From the moment I looked into her eyes, I knew she is the one, the one I would spend the rest of my life with, until my time was done.
I was lucky enough that soon someone suggested a night out.I at the time was ecstatic as my only wish that she would hopefully be there.I was even more thrown over board when I heard she would beThe few hours I had to wait felt like a few days, wow the time has arrived to fetch her.She gets into the vehicle and we are on a night out to remember
I can't stop keeping my eyes off herI try to hold her and she is abit defensive at first.
The evening is the most romantic as you could get a full moon with the backdrop of lovely mountains I start to talk her and hold her hands.She gives in and we hold hands.This was the softest hands I have ever held in my life.I just could not let go from that moment forward.
We walked around holding hands very discreetly my heart pounding away as I have never felt like this for anyone in my life; I was shocked at the way my heart was pounding.
This was the first time I had all these emotions, where just new to me.
This was the night where the grass was green; this was the night where the moon lit so bright.This was the night of discovery. The night of recovery... This was the night of a new love the night where we became one.
We walked and let out some very inner feelings the evening felt too short ,she turns around and we are alone ,I put my arms around her I feel her soft gentle lips on mines and this is my first kiss.I kiss her passionately as I have never kissed anyone like this before.I felt abit embarrassed, did I kiss her correctly or did I look so stupid.For me this was the kiss of a lifetime.From that moment forward all I could do is only think about my love.I count not eat sleep or do anything without thoughts of her on my mind.This was the start of a relationship that would last for eternity.
I get home all flushed ,excited ,with butterflies in my tummy not knowing what was actually happening to me ,I asked is this love what is this I cant breath ,Oh god help me make sense of what is going on in my heart.My parents where taken back with me asking me if I was sick or was something wrong as I was too occupied with her on my mind and not saying much.
We spent days and nights on the phone even sleeping on the phone this love far beyond anything I could have ever imagined.Within 5 months by parents moved near her family which took me miles away from my sweetheart.
We got to live near some of her family which I got to know very well and spent allot of time around them Zia would come down on holidays which was brilliant.Everything between her family and I seemed perfect as could be.We would meet discreetly from the family until we both felt we where ready for marriage.We by now have been going out for 3 years the love just got stronger with every day.
First we both come from Indian families' culture religion plays a major part in our families.Culturally & religiously what we have been doing would have been deemed in correct.Having a romance like we have was taboo at the time.Our long distance relationship went on for years with me travelling to her on every opportunity I received.The feeling of being loved giving her every attention I could give from my body heart and soul.We lied hid and did anything possible to get every moment together we could manage.
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By now we could not keep our hands off each other and being a part for anytime was something neither she nor I could handle anymore.Well she and I both decided that it was time we spoke to the family as they know me so well over the years and there really should be no problems if my parents asked for her hand in marriage.I was lucky as my parents where very liberal so it was much easier for me to talk to them.

It's a cold February night.

2008-01-24T23:11:00.000-08:00

It's a cold February night. People are bustling through the streets, either pulling up their coat collars or wrapping scarves around their necks, trying to stay warm.
It's so cold today.I'm standing at my window, looking at the people moving like little dots. Standing in a heated room, I'm beginning to pity those people. Why don't they go home? Do they plan on wandering until morning?
"Almost time to go home! My boyfriend must be going crazy." One of the nurses breathe a sign of relief. "Still needs to work overtime on Valentine's Day. It's so unfair!"
"You are fortunate." Another nurse says. "Some people don't have anyone waiting for them."
"You mean Dr. Shu?"Like Sherlock Holmes, my ears perk up when I hear my name."Do you remember how she lost control on this day last year?""Of course I do." A nurse shudders. "I've never seen Dr. Shu like that. Crying and yelling, like she was crazy."They are talking about how I was last year. They are correct. I was out of control, like they said."You can't blame Dr. Shu. If my boyfriend died in front of my eyes, I would probably go crazy as well.""Keep it down. She hasn't left work yet. She might hear you." The two nurses are too late. I heard the entire conversation through the canvas wall."Dr. Shu, what are you doing standing here?"
Just as I was deciding whether or not to reveal myself, another nurse exposed me. I awkwardly step out. The 2 nurses who discussed me start to blush. Their faces became redder than the bow on Valentine's Day chocolates.
"I'm waiting to go home." I pretend that I didn't hear anything."Dr. Shu, you must have gotten too involved in your work. It's already past time to go home. See you tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day!" She waves goodbye.
"Happy Valentine's Day." I wave back and watch the 2 nurses hurry away.
That's fine. I was ready to go home anyway. Even though no lover is waitingfor me, at least there's a lazy cat waiting for me to feed.
After I come home, the first thing I do is feed the cat. I forgot when I first had the cat. Probably since last year's Valentine's Day. At that time, I was like an abandoned cat, with eyes filled with despair. Cats don't cry, I do. That's the only difference.
"Better drink all the milk or I'll skin you." I threatened the cat. Her name is Christine, my least favorite English name. I don't know why I named the cat Christine. Christine meowed once to let me know she heard me, but her eyes are complaining about my severity. Her eyes remind me of someone I used to know, standing in front of me with eyes of rebellions.
An year ago today, I had lunch with my boyfriend and took the opportunity to complain to him.
"Today is Valentine's Day. Why didn't you give me any flowers?"
He raised his eyebrow. "Why should I give you flowers? You are not my anyone."
"Then... you should at least give me a card!" I pouted my lips, hurt by his tone.
"I know, I know. After lunch, I'll send you an e-card."
E-card. That sounds so impersonal, but that's the way he is. "You have to e-mail it to me. I'll be waiting." I excitedly smiled and planned to sneak home after lunch to check e-mail. Even though he wouldn't use any romantic words, I still looked forward to the card.
"I can't stand you women. Why do you make such a big deal out of Valentine's Day??" He grumbled while eating his food. His comment induced me to fight with him again.
"You are not romantic at all!! Don't you watch any Japanese drama?"
"Japanese drama? I only watch Discovery Channel."
"Your life is so boring." I made a face at him. "One recent drama was really good. You should have watched it."
"What's that drama called?" He didn't believe in the love portrayed in TV and movies. He always thought they were lies.
"It's called 'Story of A Century'." I gladly answered.
"What kind of trashy plot did it have?"
"What do you mean trash?? Show some respect!" I was so angry. "That drama was very touching, and the theme song was beautiful as well. It's called 'Only Love', performed by Nana Mouskouri." I wonder if he knew who Nana was.
"Nana, I know her. A Greek singer with really expensive albums."
"Her voice is worth it." Even though I secretly agreed with him, I couldn't bring myself to admit it.
"Whatever." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you 5 minutes to tell me the plot. After that, I'm leaving."
I tried hard to explain 6 hours worth of story in just 5 minutes. The drama portrayed the love stories of 3 generations of women spanning 100 years, from 1901 to 2000. Each generation was portrayed by the same actress. The story was tear-jerking.
"What's so touching about it?" He asked, after listening to the story.
"Don't you think each generation's story is wonderful? If I have such great screen writing ability, I wouldn't be a doctor anymore. I would become a screenwriter."
"If you become a screenwriter, I bet no one would watch the show. The TV station can go out of business." He quickly interjected.
"I'm going back to work. Hurry and send me the card!" I was so mad that I went home immediately, not even finishing my coffee.
As soon as I walked in my door, I turned on my computer and go online.
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Staring at the empty in-box, I began to reminisce about how we met. Maybe no one will believe me, but my boyfriend and I were actually neighbors. Our homes were only 1 wall away. Ever since we were kids, we liked to fight with each other all day long. I still remember when I moved to the country that year. Used to the city life, I couldn't get used to the simple life in the country. After school, I would just go home and do nothing. Whenever that happened, he would always come over to tease me.

That the generation to come,

2008-01-24T23:10:00.001-08:00

That the generation to come, "might not be as their fathers, a stubborn and rebellious generation; a generation that set not their heart aright, and whose spirit was not stedfast with God."~ Psalm 78:8 ~
ime may heal all wounds, but the scars can last a lifetime. Whether physical or mental, we all carry the baggage of the past with us into the present.However, there are people who do not have the burden of baggage. Two days after Jerome Overholt's thirtieth birthday, his fifty-two year old father was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer's disease. Like a burglarized house being stripped of its valuables, the memories that Arnold Overholt had accumulated over the fifty-two years of his lifetime were slowly being cleared away. There was no cure. With only the faint hope of some unforeseeable breakthrough in medical science that would halt his descent into madness, Arnold Overholt and his family prepared themselves for the unthinkable.Charles Dickens once wrote, that "time and tide waited for no man." The same could be said of Arnold's family. Life ran its course, even though the world seemed to be an alien one. Vera, Arnold's forever-timid wife, now fought with the insurance company to pay for her husband's expensive medication. Jerome, their eldest son, was actively pursuing his career in the health care business back East, a desire he had since graduating from college. Jerome dreamed of bettering America's failing health care system-- a dream that would tarnish through the coming years.Three years after Arnold's diagnosis, Charlton, the Overholt's only other child, married Martha McEntire. Charlton and Martha settled in Los Angeles, California. Since Arnold and Vera had lived in Southern California for most of their married life, the proximity of their youngest son was a great comfort to them both.God always does things for a reason. Nothing ever happens without one. Two years later, though, Charlton no longer made the pretense that he believed in providential reasons. He had endured his father's heartbreaking diagnosis and remained close to home so that he could help his parents. All this he felt could be endured. Then Martha died an hour after giving birth to their only child. Before dying, she had named the new baby girl after him. His daughter, Charlotte, had come into the world at the cost of his wife's life. Charlton never blamed Charlotte. No, he blamed God instead.After Martha's funeral, Mrs. Janice McEntire, Charlton's mother-in-law, insisted that Baby Charlotte should return to North Carolina to be raised by herself and Mrs. Angela Goodman, Janice's surviving daughter. Mrs. Vera Overholt disputed that the baby's place was with her father's family, while the McEntire family and the Goodman family disputed otherwise. Angela Goodman had a daughter that was one year older than Charlotte. The two girls could be raised together. Martha, they insisted, would want it. The families stood divided. Jerome, who had flown in from the East for the funeral, ducked and ran for cover whenever anyone asked for his opinion on the matter.Feeling as though the only remnant left him of his wife, was now trying to be taken from him, Charlton packed up Baby Charlotte and moved to Butte, Montana. There they lived for the next fifteen years, until God, once again, stood in Charlton Overholt's way.Charlotte Overholt, now fifteen, unlocked the apartment door and dumped her school books on the sofa. Exams were tomorrow and she had a lot of cramming to do. Last week, Charlton had pulled her out of school and taken her with him on a camping trip with his group that lasted for five days. The group consisted of six stressed out city people paying a total stranger to take them out to the middle of nowhere, in hopes of forgetting their troubles. Charlotte usually enjoyed these camping trips with her father, even though she was expected to cook for eight people. Lately, however, Charlotte had noticed that her absences from school were biting deeper into her grades than she had previously thought. Charlotte arranged her books on the kitchen table and tried hard to concentrate on the text before her.Charlton glanced up at the clock over the store counter. It read four fifty-two.

Introduction

2008-01-24T23:09:00.000-08:00

Introduction
n the year "Mountain Wild" begins, the American frontier was still in its infancy. The exploits of Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett were fresh in the hearts and minds of Americans, for their legends were still relatively new. These famous frontiersmen led the way for a nation expanding ever westward, and those who followed in their footsteps were eager to prove themselves equal to the challenge.A certain breed of men picked up where America's early frontiersmen left off. They were the mountain men. Rocky Mountain trappers hunted the streams in search of beaver, and explored lands that had never before seen white men.From about 1824 to 1840, mountain men hired by fur companies formed brigades that trekked deep into the wilderness in pursuit of pelts. The furs they caught were later shipped back to "polite society" and turned into hats and all manner of goods.The few who did not work for fur companies were called free trappers. These mountain men answered to none but themselves, and like their company counterparts, often became as wild and untamed as the Rocky Mountain wilderness in which they lived and died.This story begins with a free trapper.
Chapter OneInto the Wild1836, near Jackson Hole, in what would later become the State of Wyoming."He will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him."~ Genesis 16:12 ~
he day was looking to be a bust, even though beaver signs were evident along the banks of the stream. Beaver were getting scarce in most places, but Josiah Brown knew this small area of the stream was not well-known to trappers, and still had beaver to be found. Even so, this knowledge would do him little good, if he couldn't catch his elusive quarry.Josiah sighed as the last of his traps came up empty. "They ain't coming to medicine," he muttered dully. Josiah's bait usually proved successful, but today the furry animals were staying away, and it only added to the trapper's consternation. Nothing seemed to be going right, and by the way things were transpiring, the rest of his day would probably be filled with the same bad luck.The surface of the water broke nearby and Josiah's eye caught sight of a brown animal quickly diving back to the underwater entrance of its lodge."I'll git you yet," he promised the beaver, as he waded out of the water and headed for his pants. Pulling on the last of his buckskins, the unexpected sound of a gunshot cracked through the air, jerking Josiah's head up in attention. Instinctively, he grabbed his Hawken rifle, and scanned the line of timber on both sides of the stream.Josiah frowned. The wildlife had gone quiet, and he had been too busy with the beaver to even notice it until now. It was dangerous for a man to be caught off guard, and Josiah silently scolded himself for being taken by surprise. The gunshot had been nearby, and the sound of it carried easily against the Rocky Mountains flanking him on either side. Lightly tensing his muscles in readiness, Josiah placed his rifle in the crook of his arm and gathered the last of his gear. Even though he was expecting his companions any day now, until Josiah knew who had fired the shot, he would not rest easy.

Chapter OneNo Longer a Child"

2008-01-24T23:07:00.000-08:00

Chapter OneNo Longer a Child"For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee." ~ Isaiah 54:7 ~
hot Japanese sun shone through the white curtains of Izumi Mizukiyo's bedroom. She turned over in bed, ignoring the sun's call to wake up. Not to be ignored, it shone into a mirror standing on the right side of Izumi's futon, reflecting a bright glare onto her sleepy eyes. "Okay, I'm awake," she said groggily, sitting up. Satisfied with her acknowledgement of the new day, the sun dispersed it's reflection, leaving Izumi to rub her stunned eyes. Though she wanted to move the mirror, the glare served as a useful alarm clock. Sitting up in bed, she began brushing her black hair in the small mirror, talking to the reflection as to a familiar friend. "Did you enjoy my graduation?" Not waiting for a reply, she continued, "I'm so glad you could come! My parents meant to be there, but something came up. I'm sure they would have come, if they could." Her face fell a little, but brightened upon the next thought, "Mrs. Tanaka, our teacher, called us 'young women' at the ceremony yesterday. She never called us that before," Izumi added quickly, as if Mrs. Tanaka's address to her students was proof enough of her womanhood. Izumi picked up her diploma, and read it again, savoring every word.The Tanaka Young Ladies School hereby certifies that Izumi Mizukiyo has fulfilled the requirements needed to graduate. Izumi has honored her teacher, Mrs. Natsumi Tanaka, by finishing first in her class.She ran her finger along it's edges lovingly, for this small piece of paper represented long hours of tedious work. A satisfied smile parted her lips. "They will be proud of me now."
Izumi Mizukiyo is pronounced'E - zoo - me Me - zoo - ke - o'. Izumi's bedroom was not actually a room at all. Wooden partitions fenced off a small square of space from a larger room, making up three of her walls. The bedroom was just big enough to comfortably accommodate a futon and a small mirror given to her by Mrs. Tanaka. The partitions stood up against the wall, encircling the only window in the small apartment. Izumi loved to set her room up around this window, for at night, she would stare dreamily out and imagine herself strolling through a Japanese garden, inhaling the fragrant honey of the nearby flowers. She would keep this picture in her heart as she slept, and would dream of it as a baby craving for it's mother. A peaceful smile would often creep across Izumi's face, making her look beautiful and serene. What a pity that her parents never noticed this nightly transformation!Izumi carefully folded up her partitions, taking care to do it quietly. Her parents slept in a partitioned room against the opposite wall.Quietly, she put away the futon and placed her mirror on the window's ledge. Izumi tiptoed to the kitchen, and knelt next to a small stove with one burner. It stood solemnly beside a tiny refrigerator that sat on the tatami floor. Unstacking some containers in the corner, she pulled out a bag of rice. Izumi measured portions of the white grain into a pan, carefully rinsing it in the kitchen sink. She quietly set the pan on the burner, and turned on the fire. She then went to the closet, and slid open the thin wooden door. Behind the clothes, Izumi pulled out a small table, about a foot tall. Placing it in the middle of the room, she arranged the bowls and tea things on it.