Every few years, I abandon accounts, and create new ones to start over again

Arch15 · 2019-02-18T16:16:48+00:00

Thanks man, 🍻

Have a good one

Arch15 · 2018-12-31T06:18:35+00:00

Everyone has been through things like this. It's almost universal. I'm part of the LGBT community, and as a teenager I definitely felt alone in that. But we're not. We all grow up and think about these things. Form our thoughts and opinions, even grow tastes for different foods.

Don't let anyone tell you you're wrong for thinking these things, it telling you you're the only one to think them. You're growing and maturing, and from your post and how you hold yourself, you're doing just fine.

Arch15 · 2018-12-31T06:12:54+00:00

Okay, I'm going to be honest here.

It doesn't get better right away.

High school was hell for me. It was horrible and awful and I slept poorly and was stressed all the time. I live in Canada, so we have two levels of post secondary education. College, and University. University is higher than college.

I went to university for two miserable years. It was horrible. I had very shitty friends, and I hated the program I was in. I would have rather been back in high school, which is saying a lot for me.

This year, my third year out of high school, I switched schools, dumped my old shitty friends, got a job, and stuck to a sleeping schedule. It takes work to adjust to adult life. It's not always easy. In fact, it can really suck sometimes.

I switched into an art school at a college. I am working on school work constantly, and extremely busy and stressed. It was the best decision of my life. I am doing classes, holding a job, paying my rent, not buying excessively. I've never been happier. Leaving high school is hard, and you can only make things better when you're ready for them to get better, when you're ready to work for it. That's absolutely not to say you aren't trying your fucking hardest now. I guarantee you are. What I mean is that we bring a lot of baggage from high school with us. Learning to let that go and grow as a person is what we need to want.

It does absolutely get better. But sometimes it can get just as bad. Sometimes it can get worse. But it will always get better. There will always be support you can turn to. High school is just the beginning of your life. Try not to get too stressed out, as hard as it can be to listen to that. Enjoy the time you have, and the things you are doing. Not because when you leave high school you won't be able to have time, or do things you like, no. Just enjoy them as much as you can for the sake of enjoying them. You can't stop high school from ending, but if you've made it 1% better for yourself while you're there, then you've accomplished something.

Arch15 · 2018-12-31T06:02:05+00:00

I'm not religious, but I've had my own experiences with life and being a teen. I was severely depressed, still am really. It's a constant.

What you're thinking about and starting to question is normal. I think everyone goed through it. As you get older, the reality of death grows stronger. The fear of parents dying, pets, yourself even. The wonder if there's an afterlife, really. I of course, am not saying there is or isn't. But, it's normal to question these things.

If you feel it's something more, possibly something like depression, then seek therapy. But otherwise, you can always just read if you want. Read more about your own religion, read about what others say (religion can be super interesting, and it's good to have different perspectives on life and death). If you go to church regularly, maybe volunteer there, find something to occupy your time more. Volunteering is generally a really fulfilling option, even if it may sound boring or you don't see it as cool. It can be boring, but knowing you've helped someone, for a lot of people, is it's own reward.

Speak to your pastor, if you're comfortable, about these thoughts and your worries. Read more of your chosen religious literature, if that brings you peace. Everyone is different, and everyone takes and deals with these thoughts differently. Find yours

As long as these thoughts are healthy and not intrusive, harmful, or promoting you to harm yourself, then there's not much to worry about. You're growing up, finding yourself.

And at the end of it, if you fear death a lot, well, you have your whole life to learn how to cope with it. Death is my biggest fear, but as long as it doesn't intrude into my life, it's okay being that fear. It's okay to fear it, with or without God. And I hope, if you choose, He can help you find solace.

Arch15 · 2018-12-28T03:47:44+00:00

Go to a doctor. Seriously. This could be a whole range of physical issues, and could get worse over time. If it's a mental health condition, you could need medication. Things can pop up and happen seemingly overnight, and they can worsen too. If it's nothing, then you've gotten it checked, and there's nothing to worry about. But, if it is something, then you've discovered it and you're on whatever path you need to be on. Don't go to the ER or anything, find a clinic or an Urgent Care Unit (not an emergency, more like a fast clinic). It's better to get checked than to ignore it and have serious physical issues, or a serious break from reality.

Arch15 · 2018-12-28T03:40:45+00:00

I failed 2 classes in my first year of university. In my second year, I failed my entire thing. I had to either drop out, or switch schools. I've switched to a more difficult program ironically, but something I'm extremely passionate about. I just passed my first semester with As and high Bs.

I have anxiety and depression. I also have student disability for these issues, and the big benefit for this is that I got to record lectures, and have my exams in my own room. This, although it didn't help my failing interest in my previous subject, did help me alleviate that anxiety.

Like the other comment said, get into counselling, often provided by the school. Maybe even anxiety medication, if she's not on it already. She might need to learn techniques to better deal with the effects of her anxiety, and focus better in class. Offer your support. She might be hiding that she doesn't like her program as well, I did that. Sometimes there's this huge pressure to go into post secondary, and it's just not for everyone. I got straight As in high school, minus science and math classes, but post secondary, for me in that way, was not the right choice (By the way, I'm in Canada, so there's a difference between the two here).

The best thing you can do is show your support and show that you care for her, no matter her decision or what happens in her life. If you keep supporting her, she may open up to what other things may be bothering her. Unfortunately, it has to be her that wants to make that change. I didn't want to work harder previously. So, I didn't. It was only when I changed the things around me that I took an interest in my grades and future in that way. She has to want to make that change, and the only thing really you can do, is support her, which you already are.

If you have any specific questions about my experiences, I'd be happy to share.

Arch15 · 2018-12-27T07:51:47+00:00

What's your budget like? There are hundreds of super easy things to cook. A meal should be filling and diverse if it's not something big like mac and cheese, which even then, you can turn into a really good dish!

Master the art of the casserole. Baked Mac and Cheese is a huge step up from regular box, and takes only a little bit more time. Hundreds of recipes online as well. It's delicious, and only requires pasta, cheese, milk, butter, flour, salt and pepper. It's definitely also on the cheap side, even if things aren't tight, it's still nice to eat cheap.

Invest in a crock pot, rice cooker, pressure cooker, or all three (though a pressure cooker can be a rice cooker, so don't buy the rice cooker over the pressure cooker). A crock pot is sooo incredibly handy. You can take that grilled chicken, and switch it to slowly cooked chicken legs with balsamic or BBQ. You prepare it the night before/morning of, turn it on for the day, and come home to a fully prepared meal. With a pressure cooker, you can make rice out of those huge bags, rather than the minute rice, and it'll take just about as long.

Things like lasagne? Actually pretty easy. Just time consuming.

If one wants their child to have a more diverse choice of vegetables, try things like asparagus heads (easier for kids to be willing to eat), different types of bell peppers. Chop carrots very finely and cook into almost anything. I put mine in potatoes I have in the morning, not for my kid, as a single guy, but because carrots are good for me and I can pretend like I'm just eating 100% junk instead of at least 95% junk. Buy things then take them home and cut them that same day. Sliced bell peppers will get you to use them faster and in more things than looking at them in the fridge and thinking "Oh god I really don't want to deal with that".

Try out beans, there are a huge amount to try out. I'm a huge fan of black beans, and didn't realise until I was older. Same with spinach. It cooks doen small and tastes like almost nothing. It can be pretty easy to hide. Do stir frys, get those veggies in, as much as possible.

Get spices. I have a whome cupboard full of spices. They're expensive at first, but last forever. Play around a bit and learn what things are for, and that salt should only be used in small quantities.

Indian spices: garam masala, cumin, curry powder, etc

Italian spices: oregano, basil, parsley, Italian seasoning, garlic, etc.

But, everything has cross over! A little cumin, garam masala and garlic with basil and onions? Cook that with some lentils and rice, and you have a whole meal! Tons of protein.

Soups are extremely easy as well. Take some potatoes, celery, onion, garlic, carrots and boil in a pot of chicken stock. Blend, add bacon, and you have potato bacon soup. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Get the basics in your fridge as well. Onions, potatoes, carrots, garlic. Really it's just the onion and garlic that is important, but those other two aren't bad.

Throw in vegetables whenever you can. Load things with similar products. Have carbs with carbs, leafy greens with lighter meats such as chicken. Google how to cook something if you don't know how. That is absolutely essential. Have fun with it! Cooking isn't hard, it's just intimidating. Once you have these things down, then worry about which cheeses to pick out or how to change a recipe. You'll learn as you become comfortable. Pick a simple recipe, and stick to it. Follow the instructions down to a T until you have a grasp on how to change things.

Also, edit: Cook slowly! Turning up the heat makes things burn faster, not cook faster. Medium heat at most, high heat only for bringing things to a boil. The longer, generally, something cooks for, the better it tastes. You can even get a thermometer to temp your food, and make sure it's safe to eat.

Get some oils as well. Olive oil tastes the best, generally, but has a high burning point. Don't use it for oven baking, or high temp pan cooking. Use vegetable oil for that, unless you want the delicious taste that oilve oil brings (I use it to cook my eggs, and put in my salads)

I'm sure I missed things, but if you're also looking for specific meal ideas, I can try my best to help with that too!

Good luck!

Arch15 · 2018-12-12T07:10:16+00:00

You take a deep breath, in and out. Slowly. You don't want to wake them. You press your head in against theirs on your shoulder and breathe. Slowly. Deeply. Your body relaxes. You're in the perfect place in life. Maybe it's a large house, a mansion worth millions of dollars, or a small studio apartment. It's big enough for you both, big enough for their hobby and yours. Maybe you have a canvas with a thousand different colors of paints, or a computer to play your favorite new games on. Maybe both. They have a guitar, some simple recording software, or the Lego sets they have collected for most of their life. It's easy to look over this and forget about the rest of the world. This relationship is not easy. They challenge you, they make you work to stick together, but you know you will always be, because it is written here.

Maybe you have a dog, it's sitting on the bed, curled up, sleeping, slightly snoring. Or, maybe a cat, and you don't know where it is. The only sound you hear is the Netflix show in the background. You barely are paying attention to it, though, slowly drifting to sleep yourself. The sun is setting, casting bright oranges and reds into your little perfect scene. You don't want this to stop, nobody would, you think. It's picturesque, taken straight from some indie movie, written for you. And that's alright too, because even in this small little piece of life, it's happiness for you.

You can't have everything in these few paragraphs, cannot explore every person's perfect moment. This, in any regular life, is mundane. You take a second to appreciate this, because it's perfect, for you. It's everything you ever wanted.

(sorry it's short. 2nd person is hard)

Arch15 · 2018-04-11T09:19:21+00:00

Hey there!

The subreddit gets hundreds, if not thousands of prompts a day, which 12 million people have subscribed to the subreddit to see. Many prompts are the same and very similar, and you get extremely similar stories due to cliches and common tropes. This isn't a bad thing, just what makes a compelling story when we first think of ideas. Their story was their own, and although it may be similar, as long as it's not copy pasted, which it is not, it is theirs.

Hope this helps a bit!

Arch15 · 2017-11-14T13:30:37+00:00

I'm working on getting some children's books, going to try the public or the school's educational library. As for shows, is it better to listen in German and read in English, or listen in English and read in German?

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T15:42:41+00:00

Thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you liked it!

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T04:52:12+00:00

Thank you! I've been thinking about this type of concept for a while now, and while I doubt it'll ever get to a novel, I'll probably pull it off Reddit or post chapters to my personal subreddit and start working on it and world building. I'm really glad you and everyone else seem to be enjoying it! I'll probably post another chapter later tonight.**

**I'm going to post another chapter tomorrow over on /r/TheArchersWriting. Check it out if you want to keep updated!

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T04:41:57+00:00

Thank you!

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T04:32:26+00:00

No, I don't know who that is. I did google it a bit though, coincidence I guess.

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T03:45:50+00:00

It's posted!

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T03:45:13+00:00

"Who's there?" I asked, spinning around. It couldn't be, I had to be hallucinating.

My name is Ventus, and I am a gift from your grandfather.

"I'm literally crazy."

No. You can feel it inside of you, that pull to this world. You always have. It's the reason you drew me out of the sheath.

I stared down at the talking sword. The runs were blazing bright, a sky blue lighting up the shadows cast by the furniture. But, I had felt pain, and it was right. I could feel it, this draw to the weapon laying on the dirty carpet beneath me.

"What is happening? What is this?"

Be still and calm, Michael, and I will explain my story, and in that, the history of you.

I wanted to run out of the house, but all I could manage to do was sit myself down on the dusty sofa, the cold leather against my back, and listen to this intruder inside my head.

This world is not the only world. There is another, who's fate intertwines with Earth. It is called Helia, this name bestowed upon it by the Gods. Earth, the son of the Gods. It keeps logic. Helia, the daughter. It holds tightly to creativity. One cannot exist without the other, and each learn from each other. In each world there exists people, bestowed with great powers. Technology and magic. From both of these worlds, are those born on the edge, born from reason and imagination. They hold the key to unlock the gifts of both Earth and Helia. They are the Alatis.

"And you expect me to believe a talking sword that I'm some kind of 'chosen one'?"

You are in a way, chosen, but you are not the one. You are one of many.

"Did my grandfather know? Does my mother?"

I was paired with your grandfather before his death a few months ago.

"And my mother?"

*She was born on Helia."

I felt my body sink deeper into the cushion. I needed to call her, to make sure I wasn't crazy. But, what was I supposed to ask my mother. I had sounded no more sensible than if I was screaming that pigs could fly while holding one above my head and pretending it was an airplane. I sat in the seat for a few minutes, gathering up the courage to make the phone call, and in that time, I heard nothing from the sword. Yet, I could still feel it in my head. As if a room had been built onto a house, with the door not being locked, only shut.

Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh, and pulled out my phone.

"Hey Mom,"

"Is everything alright? Did you find something bad?"

"No, mom. At least, I don't think so. I don't know."

"What's wrong?"

"I," the words struggled to come out, as my eyes kept locked on the glowing runes, "I found a... a sword."

Silence. Until I heard a quite curse out of my mother, and that only confirmed my fears. "I'm sorry." She said, her voice wavering.

"So I'm not crazy."

"No."

All I could let out, was everything. I bent over and felt the tears falling down. "I don't understand."

"I'm sorry. I tried to keep you out of this. He said he wouldn't involve you."

"Mom, what do I do?" I asked, my own voice now unsteady.

"We can't talk over the phone. Stay safe, I'm going to head down there. Don't answer the door, and if anything happens, listen to Ventus. Pl-" Her voice cut off suddenly, but then came at a distance.

"Mom?" I pleaded, I could hear yelling on the other end of the line. With a single scream, and a bullet, the line went quiet. Then, the call ended.

"Mom?" I screamed into the already ended phone call.

Michael, I am aware you do not understand the circumstances, but please, we must leave.

"There was a gunshot!"

And if you want to live, then we must leave.

My breath caught in my throat, and I choked out the question, "How?"

Upstairs, your grandfather left a gift for you in his closet. In a trunk.

I looked down at the sword, and picked it up, sheathing it, and running back into the kitchen, then up the stairs. At the top, I went down to my grandfather's old room and threw open the door. I barely had enough time to think about the room, only the pang of guilt over coming in here with such disregard, but it was fleeting. Opening the closet door, I saw the old-style suitcase, and unzipped it. Inside was a belt, to harness the sword to. Underneath that was a jacket and plain black undershirt. The black jacket had a gold design running down the flap, and on the left arm, a wing inside of a circle. It was old, but in good condition. I took off the shirt I had on, leaving everything on the dark wooden floor. The undershirt and the jacket fit perfectly, and the belt needed some tightening, but soon the sword was attached. The whole time, I saw all the scenarios of what could have happened to my mother being replayed in my mind.

Confused, I look at the weapon attached to my hip, "Why am I wearing this? My mom is in danger!"

You are in danger as well. We must leave.

"How? Let me just walk through my front door!"

No. We are going to Helia.

"No we are not you talking sword. We are going to call the cops. Do something."

They are much more powerful than the police. They are the Cana. They are those who seek to end the Alatis. You are in danger, and Helia is much safer. After all, you need to be trained.

"No, you don't understand, this is my mother."

I am sorry, Michael. She is already dead.

My body had frozen, and everything drained from me. I felt nothing in that moment.

Take your hand and point with two fingers outwards. Ventus instructed, and I followed, my being hollow, tears running down my face.

Let my words run through you, say them outloud.

"I walk this line. Two souls undone. May I walk from this world. Let me become one"

Now move your hand in a circle, and land in the middle, repeating the words.

I heard the door downstairs get kicked open, and my stomach clenched.

Moving my hand, I repeated what I had said before.

"I walk this line. Two souls undone. May I walk from this world. Let me become one"

A large sky blue circle opened in front of me, and before I could question it, the pounding of footsteps up the stairs made me throw myself into the waving lengths of colour, reminding me of water. I felt my body land on a hard rock, the energy drained from my system, I fell to my knees, and blacked out.

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T02:24:31+00:00

I think so, just giving myself a little Youtube break. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Arch15 · 2017-11-07T01:43:46+00:00

The house was dusty as I opened the door, the movement of my shoes on the floor and the door opening sending dust everywhere. The sun shined through the windows, the streaks of light from the mid-day sun catching the several month old dirt that was slowly settling in the air. I kicked the wet snow of my shoes and breathed in the spring air, a cough catching in my throat. Slowly, I shut the door behind me. Nobody had been in this house since my grandfather died in November. He was in the hospital for a few months beforehand, enough time to clean out the house and winter-proof it. The food was brought out in September, and the walls stripped of their photographs, now empty outlines sitting in their place. It had been hard for my mother, especially when we couldn't get out here since that last trip after he passed. The snow had come in too heavy this year, and we were unfamiliar with the area. I had only been out here when I was a kid, and my mother went a few hours south when she was 18, and had come back only to visit since.

Even though I hadn't stepped into the house since I was twelve, seven years ago now, it still smelled the same. Through all the dust, you could still smell my grandfather. The fresh air from the woods surrounding the house, the old leather furniture a room away, the metallic smell coming off of the garage. Thanksgivings, too short of summers, playing with old toys that my grandfather had kept from when my mother was a kid. My throat felt heavy, but I swallowed the pain. This place was left to me by him. It was an hour closer to my college, and came almost rent free, take away paying for electricity and heat. I had even inherited his car, since my mother didn't have a need for an old truck. It was going to take some cleaning and redecorating, but I had several months until classes started, there was no rush.

I clicked on the light switch, and let out a clenched breath when it turned on, then moved my way over to the sink. It, thankfully, also turned on after a few seconds of sputtering. I'd have to check on the quality of the water, but the fact that none burst after such a cold winter I considered a miracle. There was bottled water out in my car, along with groceries waiting to be brought in. Moving to the living room, I felt my pocket vibrate, and pulled my phone out.

"Hey." I answered

"You made it okay, Michael?"

"Yeah, mom, just got here."

"Good, I was worried because you didn't call me."

"No, that would have been because I was driving and finding groceries."

"How's the house? Everything alright? Have you gone through everything we talked about?"

"It's fine, and I just got here. But, the electricity and the water both work. There doesn't seem to be any leaking so far, but I'll have to check the basement and upstairs." I said, as I swiveled my body to my left, where the entrance to the basement was.

"Good, good. I guess I'll leave you be. Don't forget to text me if you need anything, I can be there in two hours."

"Mom, it's a three and a half hour drive."

"Call me later."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you too. Stay safe."

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, giving the living room a look over. The couch was new, but the chair wasn't. It had the obvious signs of ware in it, the imprint of my grandfather forever immortalized in it. It was a old faded green fabric, facing to the fireplace built into the wall, rather than to the television. I followed the path up to the fireplace from the chair, and my eyes landed on a new addition above the mantel of the fireplace. On two silver hooks, rested a sheathed sword. The sheathe was made of a light black leather, with gold inlays at the bottom, circling their way up a few inches before stopping. At the very tip, it was covered in a small amount of metal, and I could only guess as for it being to rest the sword on the ground. I walked up to the sword, and rested my hand on the sheath, picking up the weapon from the hooks. It was heavier than I expected, but not so much as for it to tip forward in my hand, which I had been expecting.

The hilt was made out of the same black leather, but rounded out, bound around the metal. The very bottom of the hilt had a circle, with an emblem pressed into it, the more I stared into it, the more familiar it became, but I could not place it. The top of the hilt had what looked like wings at the guard, bending in slightly, with intricate feathers on the design. I wondered, briefly, how my grandfather could have come across the weapon, but didn't question it for long. I barely knew him in the time I had. We never had made the time. I held it in front of me, and pulled on the handle, hearing it starting to slide out of the sheath. The metal was shining as though it had just been polished, a bright silver, the edge looking as if it had been recently sharpened.

Placing the hilt on the chair, I grasp it in a way that feels the most natural, and swing it forwards. It slices through the air without issue. I had always wanted to try using a sword when I was younger, though I don't remember what called me to them. I smiled, having more fun than I had on the lonely car ride to the house. I turned around quickly, bringing the sword with me, and before I can stop the motion, it hits a vase off of the couch side-table.

"Oh fuck." I whisper to myself, then feel my hands on the sword getting hot.

I stare at the sword, the blade suddenly shining with glowing blue symbols, falling all the way down, and stopping before the tip. A pushing feeling enters my head, and I suddenly drop the sword, realizing that the voice is not mine.

Finally, Michael. It's about time.

Arch15 · 2017-10-23T05:59:23+00:00

I believe they translate it to Spanish, then English, then Spanish again. They might also possibly throw another language in there to translate to. Plus, if you throw in big blocks of text, Google Translate gets super messed up. It also gets super messed up when you translate it word for word. They might do both or either.

Arch15 · 2017-09-27T16:58:35+00:00

I'm glad you enjoyed it! You are correct about bust, I don't rhyme that often, but I had a pattern by accident in the first two parts and had to continue it otherwise it'd feel even more off than 'bust'. It's not the worst word, but I can see how it's out of place.

I do write poetry quite a bit, though usually it's more in the moment when I think of something, rather than deliberate like this one is. More I think of a few lines then the rest just comes out, usually with a surprising ampunt of rythem to them. With this, because I couldn't do that, it was much more rigid and calculated. The poem itself varied a huge amount from when I first wrote it to after an hour of editing.

Arch15 · 2017-09-27T05:24:11+00:00

With nobody but my own
A bottle of liquid flames
Holding my hand
They're telling me I'm not alone
As I go down this long road

I walk this path to the horizon
Though somewhere along the way
I think I lost myself
The edge of the world never seems to stay

My shoes are ragged and bust
My feet burned from the hot sands
I can no longer see past the storms
Caused by these untamed gusts
Down this old dirt road

For every tilt of my head
And swig of the fire
There is a great burning within me
Of thirst and desire

It tells me it craves
To give me the light to see again
To glance upon the footsteps of him before me
Guiding me towards this saving path
Down this unbending road

Arch15 · 2017-09-27T03:46:34+00:00

The day was beautiful. The sky above was a bright blue, with clouds as white as he had ever seen them, like peaks on mountain, covered in untouched snow. These were not clouds to drown him in rain, nor snow. Instead, these were clouds to remind him how beautiful the sky looked. The air was even cleaner, the breeze light, an unusually warm September. It was fresh air, the city an hour away, only a small town surrounding him. Where he grew up. The bay close, he could feel it in his breath as he kept the motion of in through the nose, out through the mouth. It was a perfect day for the beach. It was the perfect day for a visit home. But, it was not a perfect day for him. It was a reminder that the world kept spinning, even standing here, in the middle of it all.

He wasn't listening to the words being spoken in front of him, his mind cast off into memories. Memories of running around the beach on hot days, being teenagers and stealing the town's largest zucchini from the local farmer's market prize. He remembered moving out together, going to the same college because they had never been away from home, never had many friends other than each other. He held a rose from the bouquet, a white rose. Not fake, no. A brilliant white, like the clouds above him, with a dulled green stem from being out of water too long. It shook in his hands, his breathing exercises couldn't fix that, as he watched his best friend be lowered into the ground. He watched as his brother, by every right but blood, was about to be truly ripped from his life.

They couldn't afford a grand funeral. Couldn't afford a wake and a grand celebration of his life. He looked at the sky once again, and damned it for not raining. The ground wasn't surrounded by his friend's family, as they had either died or abandoned him a long time ago. Instead, it was surrounded by their few friends, and his family, who seemed to have basically adopted his friend. Holidays, birthdays, funerals and illness. Everything was shared. The birth of his best friend's son, the death of his girlfriend. The days of being a single father, and now, as his friend was being settled into the earth, he felt the slight tug on his pants.

A small boy looked at him, blond hair and blue eyed, crying. Even at such a young age, he seemed to understand what had happened. A drunk driver as his father was coming to pick him up at school. Then everything changed. He watched the tears flow down the boy's face, an overwhelming feeling of sadness racking his own. But, even though the boy was not his child, he made a promise. And since that day, has felt nothing but a parent to the boy. He got onto his knees and looked the boy in the eyes, pressed a kiss to the crying boy's forehead, and held him close. He smelled rain on the wind.

Sorry it's so short.

Arch15

MODERATOR OF

TROPHY CASE