Shattered Reflections – Rough Draft Excerpt

Storm Brewing

Trying to think of what was going on over the next few days, the girls still held on my mind because they both stated that joining them would be the best move for me. There was other things that soon took my attention. I was in the car before I knew what happened while the street lights passing by as we made our way to the motor hotel. Spring break had just started leaving the town nearly empty while we took our bags up filled with what we could pack right then. My bag had enough stuff in it to entertain myself more about catching Mewtwo that kept me from falling asleep.

Janet had made a comment about Pops touching them. My brother had it happen as well. There were moments where flames were in my eyes. These actions occurred when I was at a friends, and my mother allowed it. Turning to her sitting on the bed I had to ask.

“What was the point of coming here if you heard about this and did nothing for a week?” My volume was higher then expected.

It would not have surprised me if the room next door could hear. Fuck’ em was my thought because Madre just sat there on the bed looking at her hands telling how we needed the money he brought in for everything. Really needing that money was not a reason that added up to scratch in my mind. My mother allowed a week without telling me. She had taken effort to make sure I was not to be told. After my knockout she was afraid my response would have me in a cop car. The whole thing was crap in my eyes. The Cozies were a family that I had taken a lot of time after helping her son out of a couple spots. They also had a fair grasp of things. I had to leave from this situation because it was clear they did not want my help with anything.

Sarah, their mother has had to see me tape myself up on a few occasions. Mom had asked her not to tell the cops while I was spending the nights at their place after I got back from Sean’s. Giving the excuse that they needed a little time to put affairs in order financially before he got sent out. What they told them was just based off the physical abuse against me.

Being corrected on the actual relations on the next night over there that Pops was in hot water made them feel played. They were feeling played, and that was started by my mother making sure that no one else would know. It was only after they talked again, and assured that he would stand trial provided that Sarah gave the week they originally agreed on. After that shouting match she had with mom over the phone Sarah had made her way to the couch where I was sitting that night after my friend had gone to sleep. Wondering where everything was at in my life made me just feel numb.

My friend never had to fight for his friends, or for his own life. He never had to bandage himself up, clean the blood out of his hair, or check older injuries. Part of me just broke down in that living room crying in a throw pillow to quiet the sobs. Up to this point I never got to let myself cry much. Everything was just too hard to find time to decompress for a period of time. There was always a danger, a fight, a problem, a knife in the back, gang problems, and now the family situation. Between all the problems that was piled on it was just an effort not breaking down. On that couch with the room half dark the years of pain finally had to let go, and it was the first time since the week after Sylvia’s death that I cried. Sarah really felt sorry for me as I cried while I just felt sorry for crying.

Going back to my house Madre did not want to say anything. Their friends would not say anything. From past experience the police would not believe someone like me. I didn’t have the power to make them listen. Then it came to me. I did not have the power to make the police listen, but maybe someone else did. Letting the idea roll over in my head it was clear that time had to be of the essence, and if they would not tell me the first time things had happened then my family could not be informed of my efforts. Despite some people not liking it this was one of those things that had to be done.

School was one of the few places where saying anything that the communication would travel up the chain to go uninterrupted. My health class was starting soon which would also give me access to possible resources or avenues of research in case any other skills would have to be demonstrated health wise.

When we had gotten back it took a little time to find my spine after the class period that day to explain the situation. Wondering where do I go with the information where it can’t be intercepted. Madre would want everything in house, but this time there was not going to be any change or mercy. Pops had to go for what he did for if any justice existed then he would have to pay for what he had done. Miss Logan said it was brave to do such things while I explained that it was more of a vengeance thing. True to her word the teacher made sure the word was not intercepted, but Pops was a couple days from collecting retirement from the military. His pleas to stay that way they could collect it gave him time to put his affairs in order. That week was hell in it’s own right.

Shattered Reflections Excerpt

Stealing For Charity

I was part of student congress. Do not ask me how I managed to do it even with all the fights. What gets me even more was I had to be elected from my Japanese class to do it. They had to fill the seat with someone and no one wanting to do it left me with it pretty easily one would think. Anyway each after school club had a different amount of fundraiser they could run in a year. Japanese club had used their only one for a can and bottle drive as summer became fall. Prime time for that sort of thing with plenty of return one would think. ASB was the group in charge of scheduling everything from within the school while also having the right as a club to plan a half dozen different fundraisers for things like prom, letterman jackets, and whatever else was so much flappery.

ASB had a habit of taking money from other clubs because Mr. Sullivan was the teacher in charge of student congress as well as the ASB club. When a club wanted to do something for a fundraiser they would have to let the congress knew who would have to vote on it and let Mr. Sullivan put it on the schedule. The point of all this was to make there was not a whole lot of competition allowing the best possible amount to be gotten with each fundraiser.

Thinking further head then other clubs Mrs. Grey tried to get as much funds as possible to lower the cost of the Japanese exchange program. More of the money we would collect here would lower the remainder that would be paid for them later. There wasn’t a chance in blue hell of going myself, but it was for a good cause and I wanted people to enjoy the trip.

Running both parties Mr. Sullivan also thought he would OK a fundraiser of a can drive a week before ours after one day of time between ASB and student congress Sullivan sent the request and congress Sullivan approved it request while everyone else had to give at least two weeks notice. That two weeks notice was fair because it allowed us to advertise further making sure the one shot we got were made the most of. ASB scooping the cans before we could collect was a grimy move, and after finding out where the cans were being held at made it clear that some imaginative reclaiming plans had to be committed to.

Edward and Tiny were up and Tiny’s brother decided to give us a ride with his truck. After figuring out the plan one of their friends confirmed the exact location of the cans at the bison ranch with the rest of the family out at a convention for a few days leaving just my fellow student. We all agreed on how to take back the stolen funds that were already bagged up for our pleasure.

Starting that night the weather was good while were in the back while Tiny’s brother drove the truck. The night was cool while not being uncomfortable with a bright full moon in the sky which in this case was a positive. Buildings dotted the compound giving a lot of dark corners to hide in. We all knew that the guy in the house would not give a shit searching because not a whole lot of people would fuck with a bison ranch. Police were out in the boonies an hour away leaving us with a nice opening to move in case everything goes sour. We made our way from different sides in the case that one of us being spotted didn’t mean we were all busted. There was going to be a patrol ATV making us at least careful enough to listen when hiding.

Bison are really gentle creatures provided you make sure they know you are not a threat. I know this because my path took through the animal pen and unknowingly the rock I was hiding behind when the ATV had come was warm and furry. Having my back to it after putting the pieces together the bison that was sleeping opened one eye to look at me. Seeing a high school student with face paint in kabuki ribbon style with camouflage colors; we had all done different designs to get in the spirit of things. Snorting for a minute part of me wondered if it was laughing at me or just wondering who was dumb enough to rest against a sleeping bison, but it went back to sleep with nary a care in the world. Not one creature in that pen cared to move when I needed to make my way out.

When we got to the door of the utility shed the lights in the house had just gone off. Edward was last of us to show up remarking how bison crap seemed to stink to high heaven. Calling our truck in there was a span of five minutes where the occasional dog barking would remind us this was technologically still a crime. Loading up the bed with our reclaimed prize we transferred it over Ed’s place where his mother surprisingly let us hold it no questions asked, as long as we were sticking it to Sullivan.

His club moaned stating how the perpetrators would be brought to justice. Some were even happy to see him and me at student congress, but it isn’t about what you know, it is about the evidence. None of which on the bags of cans could be traced to us when we put them forth as my own donation we were never brought forward as the evil crew. The Japanese club had to wonder how despite seeing me drink all the soda that all those large bags would be coming from one person.

Shattered Reflections – Excerpt

Hospital Rules and Back to School

Janet was in the hospital again, and I was being dragged out of school to show our support for another surgery where more of my sister’s innards would actually be put together properly.

I hate hospitals. Back then they were boring and dismal places that one would think would have something for people to do while waiting for something to happen. That is all that happens in a hospital though, waiting for something to happen. Pokemon Red would get me through the dullest moments plugged on top of my electric purple Game Boy Color. When it was my turn to see her while everyone was getting all emotional my turn had come with madre. While mom got all teary eyed over the next surgery and how she looked in the hospital bed because that scared Janet most of all.

She wanted things to seem as normal as possible while in the hospital, and seeing me like that the first time she had to ask if I was worried.

“Should I be?”

“Well I don’t think so, but everyone is acting like it is bad.” She wondered.

“People are stupid Janet, they do not think with logic.”

“Is that why people cry all the time in hospitals?”

“No, they cry because although it is a small risk it is still a risk. That and people are just stupid sometimes.” I rebutted.

“How come you’re not scared?”

“Because even the doctors say this is low risk versus some of the other ones in the hospital. I think if it were to happen then it would be on something the doctors are a little more fearful of.”

Playing through the safari zone for a Kangaskhan she wanted to have a Pokemon of her own. After madre got involved saying the next one I caught had to be hers. She would get to name it while my opinions got return fire out in the hall. Only for after a while we walked back in to see her acting like her dyed blonde ditzy self again.

“Bro, your not scared are you?”

“Nope, you will know when I am scared when I show up of my own volition, and not dragged here.”

“You really think I will be okay?” She questioned.

Putting down the game boy our mother watched Janet calm down as my answer was explained before being shepherded out of the room. Our father would be watching the next shift passing us before we left the hall. Madre just ruffled my hair while asking how things worked in my head before we started our way to the car. School was coming back, and it was better to be in school then be out of it.

Sylvia waited less then five minutes before hugging me in front of most of the class. Twirling lightly it was a bad dance we were inseparable again in the first week especially catching up about the various things of our summers.

The warm autumn sun and smell of decaying walnuts, her hair under my chin with the darker tones of her skin on mine before we giggled happily at one of our stupid jokes. We had a wonderful surprise as half of the school would be heading out with both of our groups in the same period. Thoughts of sleeping in the same campground made us blush slightly.

The happy kids we were catching up we would just enjoy the moment.

We even talked at night on the phone whenever we had the time. It was just better because we didn’t have set guidelines to our relationship. We were each others friend. We ere each others confidant. Just her and just me enjoying each others presence to the point that our other friends were comfortable. Everyone should have someone like that in their life, and it surprised me that she was happy with me.

Outdoor school was camp for two weeks with various activities supposedly to help us learn about the different sciences. It also helped us to keep our focus away from everything that we could have been doing. Walking in the forest with our counselor and teacher for different classes. The rest of the time we would go to the various extra activities where different cabins would meet up while different counselors supervised.

We would meet only a handful of times outside of lunch at camp wide announcements. One each week and whatever time we could see each other which was an additional four times. Lunch was something our groups would have in common and most of the time we would eat together. Other kids would always say we were like a married couple that would get a blush from both of us. Sylvia’s ears would go red in case any of her friends brought up any dream wedding plans always gravitating towards grabbing my hand while arguing with others about why she was blushing so hard.

While we were being driven back we would just sit and chat while the clouds began to darken. She had taken to training my Raichu while I wasn’t playing. Trying to catch her off guard one quick peck one her cheek got her attention turning towards me slowly before draping herself over me.

“Muk attack..”

The smile on her face as well as her proximity making both of us blush.

“You know for how often this happens one would think we were used to it.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not really, I’m just sure we would both be over it by now.” Pulling her close to me we both could smile.

Wrapping my arm around her we both sat back against the window.

Hearing the clicking sounds of a camera woke me up. We were back at the school where I threatened one of my classmates about stomping the camera to dust before hearing them snicker off. She shifted on tome of me muttering how warm I was. Which took of all my strength not to face wide blush. Having her snuggle against my chest was my trigger to as my teacher would say “blushing so brightly he could be a substitute stoplight.”

Shattered Reflections -R.D Excerpt

To Be The Best

Jamie was someone who did not really know me. We met through her boyfriend who was sympathetic towards everything that happened as well as playing me in Yu-Gi-Oh. She has wanted to spend more time with him, and thought the best idea was to play the game next year. The summer was coming up fast, and mom was trying to light all of her finances that were joint with pops in to a bonfire. Wondering why I was the one she had asked to teach her, and she told how everyone would ask for different handicaps to play against me.

Others had believed me to be one of the best especially since we had our five on one contest that I still had won. Considering she also wanted to be competitive against him then she would like to learn from the best person she could find. She knew how I would take jobs, and just wanted to spend one summer training how to play this game. Hearing how much her boyfriend complained about me winning nearly every time we decided to talk over the job. Adding the cherry to the cake was that there was no female players despite the group being fairly large when it came to trading card game groups. She wanted to be the representative.

She would need multiple sessions a week to catch up as her boyfriend had been playing for a few years. Payment would be in cards after she felt comfortable playing, soda when I was there, and an open mind. Living a few blocks away from the house it would not that hard to walk there. There was enough cards in my own stores that we could use until she felt comfortable. Each training session would be for an hour minimum. We could go longer if we were both up for it and no plans had to be changed.

Going over the various basics, media, mistakes that were common, how to test a deck, how to make a deck, what you want in a deck, sizes and proportions. After that it turned into how to play the people because the person’s style was a strong variable when it came to preferred strategy. We would have lessons once or twice and sometimes three times a week. We had asked her boyfriend to play seriously against her after the first day of school giving a good test of her skills. I couldn’t help her in any way when they had their game, but I could watch.

Over the summer her ability to learn was on full display taking more time with the difference between the actual game. The difference of the card types working in to combinations were something that intrigued her. Working from my extras after half the summer she had begun to get cards to flesh out a style that was her own. Teaching someone to play that was always one of the hardest parts I found out because when you teach someone one of the things that you would need to be clear is where style differs from technical ability. You do not want someone to just mirror your style because while the teacher has had experiences over their time that maybe the student would not understand. While she would gather information there was extra efforts to go over what was more of style. Doing that she had actually began to feel comfortable with cards that while I would not play could be used in a very competitive match.

Harpies were the cards that she had really fallen in love with. That was a set of cards based around the Harpie Lady all the cards that worked well with were tracked down within reason of cost because one would be surprised how expensive some cards can be. Building her own deck she had asked for some of my extras that were not expensive, but as it was easier for her to use I had decided at the end of the summer to do something.

My tournament had not gone well, and it had gotten around from other sources. I was just boiled at the incident rather choosing to wave off the question. Judging seemed to be a better fit doing it when there was need at some of the smaller stores in the city. People enjoyed that it was more about the players and the experience while keeping things fair. A judge should never have to be calculated on in a game like that because it can ruin the entire experience. Back to the point at hand she picked the game very quickly and to act as the cherry because she did push herself to learn.

Respecting that intensity, and feeling that the game did not have a whole lot of love left. My deck became hers with it all the cards in it that she had hated when she was practicing were now hers. Black Tyranno had been able to find a new home with someone who had found a love of the game which was good enough for me. She wanted to use those cards in the deck in the match with her boyfriend, but she thought better of it. Playing him in a three match series she had swept it easily earning the ire of her boyfriend even going through a game without taking damage making him rage for a moment leaving a smile on my face.

When she left high school she had begun to make her way to California where her tournament lifetime in the state went better in mine, and one of my favorite moments was an email about her successes including a picture from one of her events after a match she had won. The picture showed her field with the various cards that could be called beautifully artistic cards except for one. Sitting in her monster field years after she had been taught was the Black Tyranno in attack mode ready to go. It was a sign of something that made me smile all those years later. Games really can be so magical when you think about it, and getting someone to find a passion for a game was a nice little thing in a world that seems to be bass ackwards.

Typey Typey Typey

Shattered Reflections is just about 30k in words with a goal at just about 65k. What gets me more then the writing is the typing because now to allude to 2 the Ranting Gryphon. I have a shoulders and neck made out of candy corn. Things happen it just cuts my speed in half, and I have gone over that before. That does not mean that we can’t learn from it. I hate having something negative. I do not like cons that can’t be turned in to a pro through either a style change or something.

Despite my speed being dropped by half, but it has given me a better process to add or edit details in the various forms of typings. Maybe exchanging the speed of the old school gunman for more of the calculation of the sniper if we want to look at it in a action hero inspired light.

Looking at NaNoWriMo coming up all I would hope is that my big two writing projects are at least typed up. That will be difficult to do, but part of me is kinda relishing the challenge because I know what I can do the question is can it be pulled off. Can the mental strength get past all the problems that may pop up physically. Which is the stronger side of people, mental or physical?

To get some of the works done would be great to have it ready to go and then more of the advertising would begin again. If the pictures can be added to the other books then there is a possible of four books that could be released. Wanting to be a writer that can sustain on his own works can be. Trying to break in as writing for a job has been a little more difficult. That’s okay though because the harder the trip, the sweeter the victory.

Typing and Games

Right now Shattered Reflections stands at about 11k words and my shoulders are already complaining about what is to come. The goal on this project is 65k to 90k erring probably on the shorter side. It is an auto biographical project that some people have asked for after finding out some of the experiences I have had. The way it is right now I am just looking at it as a good way to practice writing of that length. Considering writing is something I want to get better at and grow maybe into a career or at least something that would be interesting to try.

My typing speed has taken a nose dive because of my shoulders which sounds weird, but you need your shoulders to keep things going. Without a good base then your arm is pretty much only half of what you can do at your best, and that is weird to think about unless you need to. It will be something that will just be just needed to worked through because, and anyone that has a condition that has to deal with pain can tell you one must either handle it and use it to push or they will always be pushed because of it.

It is nice to see the old stories as well just to go back in time again for certain things. Doing a project like this provides you with some perspective that some people do not have just going through the paces in an average life. This world has too much in it to experience for people to just go through the paces month to month and year to year. Which by the way my father the self professed redneck and I decided a few weeks ago to have a single day in the city of Portland which will be an experience on here soon.

Things are going as well as as they can. Found a little time to play a little bit relaxing with one of the Ludum Dare creations called Steam Heart. It will bring a lot of memories of old Megaman games, and I played to the end of the first boss while not botching too badly. Unfortunately those are the kinds of games that I have absolutely no skill in, and boy does it show. The game is fun enough that even scrubs like me can get through the first boss somewhat easily. The controls are easy to pick up and if you like those kinds of games then please look it up on Newgrounds or even on Google.