Tag Archives: Fiction

The Fourth World – Chapter 1 – an Excerpt


The following piece is an excerpt from my First full length Novel – “The Fourth World”  due to  be completed this year.   It is a Dark Urban Fantasy Teen Novel.  It’s  set in modern times surrounding three teens  all of whom are strangers to each other.  They will  come together whether they want to or not to just possibly save the world and learn something about themselves and their place in the world. This is chapter has been revised a few times but I am sure it will be revised again before its all done…:)

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 The Fourth World

by PhilipWardlow

Calvin had always believed in magic. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. They could doubt all they wanted. There was a hidden world which we could not see sitting right in front of our faces, most everyone was too busy, too blind, or too stupid to see it. Calvin saw it in the trees as the distant winds kissed the leaves which flew through its branches. He spied it dancing in the fire amidst the embers at night; little tiny sprites hopping from log to log amidst the flames playing a game of tag. He smelled it in a wild rose growing in a crowded field of jostling weeds flinging its pheromones to attract the butterflies to alight upon its silken petals. He heard it in the babbling brook as the water played upon the rocks behind his home whispering to the frogs as it traveled on downriver. He felt it in the rough stone he caressed in the palm of his hand; an ancient power from ages past unearthed from the deep bowels of the earth from the crumbling’s of a mighty stone titan long dead. It was everywhere if they only choose to see. The magic spoke to him because he chose to listen and he almost understood what it is was saying…

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Chapter 1 – Reality Sets In

 

Calvin tasted the blood that trickled down to his upper lip which flowed from his nose. It had a sweet metallic taste. He liked the taste of his own blood. Calvin wasn’t a weird person don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t into to that kind of stuff.  He just liked to sometimes pretend that he was Conan the Barbarian backed up against a wall, fighting an angry horde of ghoulish creatures hell bent on gutting him like a fish, and slowly eating his entrails as he watched. With sword in hand he would hack and slash, limbs would fly. He would be scratched all to hell and bleeding from a dozen different wounds and smiling insanely because this could be his last day alive so why not go out smiling like a true warrior would upon meeting his death well met in battle. Yeah, he liked to have his mind go to places like that rather than be anywhere than where he was right now. Continue reading The Fourth World – Chapter 1 – an Excerpt

The Stars


 

 

Stars

Oh short life, that I wish were longer, lift  me up to the stars so that I may float among them and touch them with shy fingertips as I gradually get to know them all intimately like a father meeting his estranged child for the first time after eons of separation and forced expulsion. A lesson had to be learned before I could return to the stars….a lesson deep and longing …personal and reflective for each that finally find their final resting place to call home….

Time Enough – A short story


Hourglass,_dying

Time Enough

By Philip Wardlow

I saw her and time stopped. Literally it stopped. Except me. I was the only thing still moving, still breathing, still conscience, still in the real now as I called it. At least I think I was anyways. That part has never been truly clear to me. Being real that is, because I felt apart, always apart, never a part of.

She was just crossing the street at 5th Avenue and Broad Street. You know the place. She was right on the corner where that wonderful bakery presided.

The smell at that corner was just heaven. Hmm…I noticed I could actually still smell the sweet aroma of cinnamon in the air even as time was stopped there on that corner. Must be the molecules suspended in the air entering my ol’factory of a nose that I had walked right into. I breathed in deeply the nostril massaging pleasant sweet smell of cinnamon again. Remember, it’s the little things. Always.

The smell made me wonder if time had stopped everywhere and not just on this street, or this city , or state, or country, or Earth, or solar system, but perhaps everywhere in the entire universe. Just for me.

Was I this special to be given this power – this gift – had it been given? But I digress. Back to the lovely smell of the bakery…no, no, no. I meant her, the women, just beginning to cross the street at 5th and Broad.

Her name was Angelica. And she was angelic, gloriously so, with long dark hair, full lips, bright green magical eyes. She walked with the grace of a ballet dancer on long legs in black high heels. And I was here to save her life.

How’s that you say?

I had just seen her end in a bloody mess with legs splayed at very acute and obtuse angles on this very street she was standing. In not more than five seconds (if time were to resume) an old grizzled taxi driver would be turning the corner down the street to end any future days she might have left. So I had taken upon myself and backed time up ten seconds because that was not about to happen on my watch. Not to such a lovely creature as her.

I have completely forgotten where my real life began relative to where other people’s lives are at, like this Angelica, as it relates to my own life.

I mean, is she older than me or I am older than her? I mean in the sense of the chronological order of events as they have unfolded thus far in this universe. You follow? Oh I’m sorry, I forgot to mention something vitally important.

You see, every time I stop time or go backwards in time and do something just a smidge different, then resume, I find things have shifted ever so slightly around me. Like a nudge or a ripple flowing out from the place of change. That ripple is a fickle thing, for you see it may get smaller and smaller until the last thing in the time line just weakens and dies out with no one the wiser but me.

But at times if the change is big enough, then a big ripple or nudge is produced.

To my dismay, that if it is truly a major nudge, a divergence happens out in time at a certain point. Meaning a new timeline occurs. A new possibility comes into being down many avenues that had never existed. Then I’m screwed. For you see I find I am unceremoniously pulled like a piece of taffy into that new existence and the other is gone forever.

To count, I have screwed myself over one-thousand three hundred fifty five times…sorry, make that one-thousand three hundred fifty six counting saving Angelica at this very moment. If I am truly being honest she is the reason for over eleven-hundred of those times. The rest happened because I was young and stupid. Now it’s just because I’m young and in love which is its own kind of stupid.

I have saved her life so many times in so many different ways it has created a major divergence each time. So I’m stuck in the new timeline with her and the rest of the universe I guess. Which is fine I like being stuck in that way. I couldn’t bear to be stuck in any time without her.

But damn it all to hell, either she’s the most un-luckiest girl in the world, or she’s just one of those people simply destined to die.

Do I believe in destiny? Fuck no.

I do believe something in the Universe is gunning for my sweet Angelica and I am going to find out who or what, even it kills me first, else my name is not –

Shift ~

The din and cacophony of the city came crashing into me like a thousand locusts knocking against my ears. I was always amazed at how quiet the world was when I forgot about it in that instance when it was stopped.

Time hates to be stopped… forward, backward, not a problem, but it’s very reluctant to stand still. Yes, it obliges me, but I can feel it fuming to start up as again as soon as I stop it. It’s a like a tea kettle on the stove coming to a slow boil. If I don’t start it up in time it always strains and strains and builds and builds and then boom. Time starting back up that way always gives me a headache. But I digress. I have something to do and I only have seven seconds do it in now.

“Excuse me Miss Ward.”  She ignored me of course like she always does in these circumstances and kept on walking to cross the street.

I then did the only thing I could think of in that moment. I pulled hard on the lapel of her rain coat and dragged her bodily back to the doorway of the bakery shop out of harm’s way.

“What the hell are you doing!?” she asked, looking at me frightfully, eyes like big green saucers, but at the same time balling up her fist ready to slug me. She was a good slugger. I think I have been hit at least a hundred or more times by her. I have gotten pretty good at avoiding her punches. Most of them anyways.

“I am attempting…” I was about to finish with “to save you”. But was interrupted by the taxi driver plowing through the intersection flinging the unluckys into the air with his one ton yellow deathmobile.

I caught a glimpse of the old man behind the wheel as he plowed through them all, slowing nary a bit. He looked right at me at me in that slice of a second. I swear he did. And he looked pissed, with his face all scrunched up like he had bitten into a lemon and I had taken his puppy away from him. Something tickled inside of me when our eyes connected. I swear I saw him mouth the words “you” before he sped on by and around the next corner leaving carnage in his wake.

Angelica collapsed in my arms after that. I pulled her into the bakery and had her lay back in one of the booths as the rest of people in the place streamed out to ogle or help with the accident.

Now was my best chance, I had to find that old man behind the wheel before time shifted and I was pulled again like taffy into the next divergence. He was part of this in some way. I could feel it. She was safe. Again. Time to go.

“You knew didn’t you?” She looked up at me as she laid there in the booth.

“Yes.” I said. I leaned in and kissed her on the forehead and she didn’t pull back from it. I turned from her to leave. Time was a wasting even for me.

“Wait. Where are you going? Who are you?”   Angelica looked to me for answers. Always she asked the same questions. Long ago I had stayed and had answered them and many others. But not anymore. Besides, she would forget me with the next shift as always. And that was too painful to bear again.

“Why your guardian angel of course.” I said, as I gave her a sly grin I knew she loved so well. I exited the bakery in a flourish and a wink as I stepped out of time.

Shift ~

The End (or to be continued)

The Summoning – A Silly Short Story – Competition Winner!


 

 

Recently I entered a  writing competition  put on by a fellow writer over at her self-titled  blog  Ksenia Anske   She has a massive following with a growing collection of  self-published novels. She’s  a great writer. But don’t take my word for it. Check her out.

Anyways, I entered this contest on a whim and for a challenge. I didn’t expect to win really. But I said what the hell, it will be good for me. I need a kick in the ass every once in while to get me writing the way I should. So I entered. The criteria for the contest was to write a 800 -1000 Word story. And not just any story. It had to be funny and it hand to contain the following.   It had to have something do with magic and you had to reference five things:  a tutu, beer flavored lollipops, an elephant,  a Breathalyzer, a brick and a purse.   YES, no easy task in 1000 Words.

But I did it.  I entered and I won on top of that!  So please take a moment and read my short story below. Also check out the other competitors stories here as well.

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Pentacle

The Summoning 

 

 

This was a fuckery of the highest magnitude as her grandmother used to say.  The demon was too damn powerful to hold it in the circle for much longer.

He (and I say he loosely because you never really know for sure) was wearing a fedora with a raven’s feather stuck into it. She saw two small horns sticking out through either side of the hat. Silk black pants and a red silk shirt, with oddly enough a small yellow smiley face button pinned to it that simply read “Shit Happens” finished his ensemble. And boy was he handsome. He smiled at them as he had been doing for the last thirty minutes not saying a word. She could feel him pushing at the boundaries of the trap that had been setup in their backyard, testing for a weakness and still sucking on that damn lollipop.

There were no weaknesses.

Susie, one of her other sisters in the coven, had done a beautiful job with the lawnmower. The cut patch of grass was a perfect cut circle with another design of a pentagram cut within and then traced with human blood (their own of course).  Other rune symbols ran near the inside perimeter of the circle and within the pentagram itself.  A weed-wacker and hedge clippers had been used for the smaller symbols.

I wondered idly what flavor lollipop the demon was sucking on.

“Margaret! Stop your day dreaming and shore up your point.”

“Yes, Mother,” Margaret said, looking over out across the circle at the woman she called Mother, who was not her truly her Mother at all.  Mother was naked as the day she was born wearing only a silver necklace which held at the end of it a ruby as red as blood which dangled between her breasts.  Margaret was naked as well, along with her three Sisters who all wore the very same necklace.  Each of them stood just outside at one of the five points where the Pentagram touched the circle.  Margaret bent her will through the red jewel.

“Much better daughter. Be diligent. No meandering of the mind if we are to…”

“Its beer flavored my dear.” the demon said, interrupting the Mother.  “Pabst Blue Ribbon I believe. I do so love a good beer lollipop at a summoning.” The demon turned a wicked smile at Margaret and she shivered. He can read my mind?

“Well of course my dear witch. I wouldn’t be much of an all powerful demon if I couldn’t, now would I? In fact I am getting stronger by the second. Isn’t that right Mother, you feel it don’t you?” the demon said, sneering and turning to her in the circle.

“Shut up, you vile thing…” she started to stay before she couldn’t say any more since she had suddenly turned into an elephant, a small elephant mind you, but still an elephant.  And wearing a yellow tutu with pink polka dots.  It actually looked rather flattering.

Her other sisters were aghast.  Dark short haired little Susie’s eyes went wide and looked ready to run and leave the circle.  The two tall blonde twins, Monica and Harmonica, were besides themselves, both wringing their hands in unison. Margaret had to take charge of the situation. It was up to her now. She was the eldest next to Mother in the circle.

“It’s just an illusion sisters, be strong.  Repeat the binding incantation, now.”  Margaret knew the spell itself would do nothing more than it already had, but it would distract the sisters and give them a focus for the real power behind it. It was all about the will. Always.

“Thrice inter orbis, reus subsido totus, malum pessum…”  they all began to chant together.

Which essentially meant get the hell back in your cage you evil piece of shit…more or less.

Mother suddenly popped back into view, gone was the small elephant and tutu. Margaret found herself missing the little elephant already; it had actually been an improvement as far as she was concerned.

“Thank you daughter for your strength, you others had best take lessons.”

Margaret couldn’t help but swell with a little bit of pride from the compliment. She was thinking being an elephant for a minute or two had taken the edge off her a bit.

“Oh, how I tire of this farce. Let’s be done already. And shut up already with that chanting.” The demon bemoaned, rolling his eyes with arms crossed.

Margaret suddenly found she couldn’t’ talk, as did her other sisters.  For they all had lollipops stuck in the mouths.  Beer flavored lollipops. They weren’t half bad actually.

“Mmm…mmm.”  Margaret tried to say to the demon.

“What’s that my dear I can’t quite hear you?” He smiled wickedly again.

Margaret spit out the lollipop. “Fuck you! By the way, I have something for you.” Margaret cleared her mind totally so the demon could not read it. She bent down and picked up her purse next to her feet.

“We have been saving this for just this moment.”

“What in the nine hells are you talking about witch!”

“Why this, my good handsome demon,” Margaret pulled from her purse a small white brick and held in front of her. “It’s a binding brick”, she said.

“Frances Sebastian Cavanaugh Cornelius Plumpkin, I command you to do our bidding.” with that she hurled the brick directly into the face of the demon hitting him squarely in his handsomely square jaw.

“You found my true name?” the demon whispered looking frightened for the first time.

“Yes Francis.” Margaret said as she smiled wickedly back.

Later that night the police left, being satisfied with the results from issuing all of them a breathalyzer test. It seemed a neighbor had called the cops, accusing them of being drunk and disorderly. They then pulled the oh-so-powerful demon out of the closet and got down to business to ask for some serious witch wishes.

 

BeerLollipops

 

By Philip Wardlow

 

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I was entered

 

 

Roadkill – Novella Ebook – 2day FREE Promotion Starts Today Saturday April 5th!!


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ROADKILL Amazon Free Offer 

If you are new to my website you may not have realized that I Epublished a book to Amazon that sells for $2.99,  called you guessed it, “Roadkill” , back in late 2012.

If you look to the right of this article,  you will see a direct link to that story on Amazon’s website. You can also click here or above.

Starting TODAY on Saturday , April 5th  through Sunday April 6th,  it will be available for FREE for anyone to download for the Kindle. (The time for when it starts may not be Exactly  after Midnight the first day but it will start that day)

You don’t need a Kindle to download it and read it but you will  probably need to download Amazon’s small Kindle app program for viewing on your PC before being able to download and read the story. Other than that it’s a piece of cake.

Please read my little synopsis below or go to Amazon’s website to see what the story is about:

Roadkill Synopsis:

There are things that lurk in our world unseen, dark creatures lost in a time and a world so ancient as to be forgotten by the same humans who made dark dealings with them so very long ago.

Now per happenstance, on a dark shrouded road these worlds will collide briefly again….

What would you do if you hit and killed something on the road in a raging blizzard in the middle of the night and that something you killed had a companion which meant to force you to make amends for your actions?

Adrian is the thirty-something already troubled family man who suddenly finds himself in that world. Adrian soon discovers it doesn’t want him. It wants the thing he holds most dear to his heart. Whom will the thing choose as the price to be paid, Adrian’s lovely wife Elisa, or his young eight year old daughter Sylvia?

Following the ancient laws set forth, a balance must be kept, and Adrian the good family man, must pay the price whether he likes it or not. Will Adrian have it in him to fight to keep his family whole or will he give into his fears and past traumas that have haunted him for years and lose the ones he loves along with perhaps his own life in the process?

The Power In Me – Excerpt of Short Story by Philip Wardlow


Power

The Power in Me

Three Ping Pong balls revolved in midair, each one following the other in a tight circle as they flew.

*

“I shouldn’t be able to be doing this, Carl!” she yelled at the bald little man sitting across the table from her in the dining room of her house. Carl was wearing a smug little grin on his face that annoyed the hell out of her. He was always full of himself, today more than usual. He obviously knew more than her. Shit! She was losing her concentration. One of the balls slipped out of it’s rotation and fell.

*

“True and not true,” Carl replied back glibly to her as he deftly caught the falling ball with his left hand, inches before it hit the table.

*

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!” she said, her eyes staring ahead at the two remaining balls still rotating in front of her. She thought of a figure eight, and immediately the balls begin to swirl in that configuration. It was equally cool and frightening at the same time, she thought, but Carl didn’t have to know that.

*

“Angela, you have taken to this extremely well. It seems you are a natural. I have to give our co-workers credit. They were betting you would do well the first time right out the gate. Not many can pull off even one ball this quickly, let alone three. Guess I will have to pay up when I get back to the office.” Carl chuckled to himself, rolling the little white ball he had caught back and forth between his hands on the dining room table still smiling at her smugly.

*

Angela took her eyes from the two remaining balls, which spun and looked directly at Carl.

*

“You mean there are others who can do this? Out with it, Carl, I’m sick of the games. You’ve been playing them too long, first with my husband, now with me. Be straight for once, or for god sakes I’ll shove these balls down your goddamn throat.”

*

Carl’s smile slipped a little her under dark stare. He involuntarily swallowed when he suddenly realized the balls were still continuing to spin in their figure eight pattern without her looking at them. Damn, she’s good, he thought, and arrogant. A lot like him more or less, he thought, but still soft.

*

“Well.” Angela said to him, more of a command than a question.

*

Carl ignored her tone. “You remember that project three years ago that kept Scott away so many hours at night?”

*

She remembered all too well, the late nights, and all the arguments that followed, telling her he couldn’t discuss his work with her because she didn’t have the clearance. It still rankled her a little to this day. Angela only nodded as she looked at him as the balls continued to spin, so Clark continued.

*

“We had found something amazing. To be more exact it found us. One of the lab geeks directed to synthesize some of the proteins from a plant brought back from Brazil accidentally combined two cultures in the synthesis we were working on with the lot. The other plant was from an older expedition we had done years ago in the Congo in Africa. Scott had pulled it himself from the incubator a few days later. Lot Forty-Two.”

*

Angela noticed Carl’s eyes dilating and his hand gestures became more animated as he spoke. This disturbed her for some reason and she didn’t know why.

*

“Oh, the things Lot Forty-two revealed to us, Angela!” Carl found it hard to contain himself as he talked.

*

“We didn’t know how much until we began the human trials. You did not know this, but Scott, was one of the first volunteers. The committee had been paranoid of it getting out to the general public so everything was done in house; very hush hush.

*

“I am sorry to say this ,Angela, but he was a fool.” Carl said flatly to her from across the table.

*

An invisible force compressed against Carl’s chest, to send him flying and to go slamming into the wall behind him. Plaster crumbled around his head and tumbled off the nice black suit coat he wore. Now I am going to have to go to the dry cleaners tomorrow, he thought idly.

*

“Release me, Angela.” Carl said quietly. She indeed is a natural. In front of her the two balls still wove their figure pattern in the air. If only it could be different.

*

Angela saw no fear in Carl at what she had just done to him. More so, a calm demeanor seemed to settle into him, like a mask had lifted. She herself was scared at what she had just done. Where had it come from? This was so much different than revolving balls in the air. This new power seemed to have welled up inside her and she had just let it go all at once at him in a stream. It was still flowing; like a fire hose turned wide open at the hydrant.

*

“Why say such a thing about Scott?” Angela’s dark eyes seemed to glow as she stood up and walked slowly around the table to him. Carl just stared at her, not blinking. The force increased upon his chest as he sank even deeper into the wall.

*

Because he knew the initial trials were unstable, he knew it could possibly kill him. But he went ahead with it anyway. He wanted to be one of the firsts. His vanity won out and it was his undoing in the end. ”  Carl gasped for breath from the pressure she was exerting on his chest.

*

“The drug he and the others had taken was unrefined, the levels too high for their system. The power consumed him; it drove him to lash out violently with the power for no reason. You must have suspected.”  Carl looked at Angela challenging her to disagree as he fought to breathe.

*

“You should remember his dark moods when he came home.   He had to be put down! Now let me go!” Carl controlled his breathing. This game is at an end. The committee be damned, he thought.

*

Angela ignored him. She pushed harder and the power flowed from her like the heat from the sun. Along with the power, anger filled her. Anger at this little man who had taken her husband away, anger at the lies he now spouted about him.  Her power escalated as her anger took a foothold in her, each resonated and drew upon the other. They were feeding each other.

*

Continue reading The Power In Me – Excerpt of Short Story by Philip Wardlow

Kava Writers Collective – My Writing Group


Meet Kava Writers Collective!

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Approximately a year ago I joined a writing group in my local area to better hone my skills as a writer and to feel not so alone in my desperation to want to be a writer….misery loves company…write? (I mean right?)

I kid actually…I think we all have potential in our own separate goals to want to be writers. Actually the founding member of the group, who goes by the  name of Susie,  who we all hail as the Supreme Dictator (I mean Leader) of the group was published  and is soon to be published again in March I believe on her second book and who is already hard at work on her third. She’s a powerhouse of wordum and knows her stuff…she’s definitely got the chops.

The group consists of nine people – of course people –  what did you think they were? Magical unicorns.  Shh….one actually could be….don’t tell him I said so though…we’re not to supposed to let on like we know.

Anyways, we meet every first and third Sunday of the month – weather permitting of course…dammit you  foul beast called snow that seeks to keep me from my destiny!

The group consists of five men and four women. It’s a pretty balanced group of individuals in the genre that they write to and in the way they may critique something you have written.  I love their feedback and think of them as invaluable coaches in editing and fixing what I can’t see that’s wrong sometimes with my writing.

In the last year, I feel I have grown under there honest feedback and response to my work. Besides that, they have inspired me to keep going at times when I get discouraged with setbacks that may happen in my own writing .

Their energy in their own work makes me want to push through, get the work done and be proud of a product that I can call my own.

How about you guys? Any of my followers or fellow bloggers belong to any writing groups or attend any workshops? If so, what do you get out of it?

Excerpt from my Novel – The Fourth World – Meet Omar


Well you met Ivy and then you met Calvin.

Here is the final main character , Omar, from my first  novel called the Fourth World that I am currently working on for completion early this year which I aim to submit to various publishers.

I am trying not to give away too much story-wise but at the same time I want to get you guys interested and me revved up for what’s to come .  Besides, it also helps me focus better in the direction I wish to take them all in as far as their own personal character development. I want them to grow and you grow with them eventually as the pages turn so you feel your in each of their shoes as they get thrown into whatever pit of despair, dark forest,  or forgotten world they may find themselves.

Enjoy the last installment  in my third excerpt form the novel. More will come…but I just gotta write it first…:)

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Chapter 3 – Great Expectations

“Omar! Ahora, mijo…get your butt downstairs, it’s time to eat.” Omar’s mother yelled at him from downstairs from somewhere probably near the kitchen.

“Coming!” Omar kept punching the buttons on the game controller staring ahead at the television in his bedroom. More minutes past.

“Omar! Muévete!” His father yelled at him from the hallway almost to his room.

Omar threw down the controller (but not before pausing it), jumped up, and turned off the television like a well practiced professional who had done it a thousand times.

His father came in his room not looking pleased just as Omar stood up from laying on the bed.

“I thought we told you no games for two weeks. Do we have to take it all out and store it at your grandmother’s house thirty miles away?” his father’s hulking frame intentionally barred the only way out of his room.

Omar didn’t look at his father as he stood waiting to leave.

“No.” Omar said simply.

“Well if we catch you playing it again, that’s what going to happen. You’re supposed to be doing your homework until they let you back. How’s that cut doing anyways.” Omar father reached a hand out as if to touch the stitches on the side of Omar’s head.”

Omar reflexively moved away from his father’s touch.

“Fine.” Omar said, still not looking at his father.

“He got you good didn’t he.  I can’t blame him from for it. Three on one. I’m not gonna ride you anymore about it, but I don’t want you thinking your going back to school to find an excuse to bump into him by accident. You stay as far as you can from him. Got me mijo?” Omar’s father walked a little closer to him to make sure he got the point.

“Look at me Omar, do we understand each other.”

It took everything he had to look his father in the face.

“I understand.”  Tears started to brim in his eyes and he quickly looked down.

“You’ve got this year, and then two more until you graduate. We just want you to stay clean until then. You’ll be the first mijo. The first one in the family to EVER graduate. Can you manage that. Don’t let your mother down. Your a smart kid so start acting like it.”

“Yes.” Omar simply said.

“Boys! Time to eat!” Omar’s mother yelled again from downstairs.

Omar’s father moved from barring the door to his room and Omar practically ran.

*******************

“So, you in Omar? We thought we’d let him get comfortable for a week  or two and let him think he’s safe. Then we’ll get him away from the school. You get first dibs since he busted you up side the head.” Omar heard Neil giggling like a little girl in the background of Jake’s phone.  He could imagine Jake smiling his smile that all the girl’s liked so well on him. He could hear it in his voice over the phone.

“Yeah, I’m in,  paybacks are paybacks right?” Omar said, talking quietly up in his room,  knowing if he got caught making a personal call on his cell his father would take it and everything else way in his room.

“That’s right baby now you’re talking. Time to open up a can of some whoop ass on the freak. Smart ass will remember this lesson for a long time to come.”  Jake said laughing along with Neil.

“Yeah boi!”  Neil yelled through the phone.

“Okay man, I’ll let you go, don’t want you in trouble with your Pops. We’ll pick your ass up on tomorrow for school. Don’t forget to wear your special helmet. I’m just fucking with you man. The exile will soon be over. The posse is back in town.” Jake said.

“Fuck you man and go posse. I’m out man”  Omar said, almost smiling but with no real strength behind the words. Omar hung up his phone. 

Grabbing a comic book from his nightstand, he flopped down on his bed, laid on his stomach, and started to read. He idly touched the stitches on the side of his forehead right above his temple, rubbing the length of it with his thumb. The feeling of it started to needle him. It was going to leave a scar, he just knew it. Then all over again the anger swelled up inside of him at what had happened that day. Stupid freak, why couldn’t he just shut the hell up for once.

He was glad the freak wasn’t gonna be there tomorrow. He didn’t know if he’d have the strength not to try something. Omar threw the comic book down on his bedroom floor; something he would have never done a year ago. Back then he had treated them like gold, putting each in their own plastic bag, taping them closed and storing each in a box he kept in his closet after finishing them.  Now they lay strewn everywhere throughout his bedroom.  He’s not sure why he even still bought them anymore.  He knew soon he would stop buying them all together, one day.

He looked at the clock and saw it was almost eleven. I guess it’s time, he thought.

Omar often like to stay awake as long as he could.  He liked lying in bed and thinking of nothing and losing himself in the nothing. That way the next day would take longer to arrive.  Because tomorrow there was always something, with his mom, his father, his friends, school. He like being trapped between moments, to just be alone between tomorrow and today.

Omar’s head hit the pillow as he tried to fight the sleep that he knew was coming.  A sleep that sped him through dreams he never remembered, no consolation for even that for closing his eyes. The light would always find its way back to him, to peek and pry it’s way in through the blinds of his bedroom and peel back another day which he would learn to love reluctantly and then do it all over again the next.

He never noticed his mother as she quietly entered his room and covered him with a blanket, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and turned off his lamp…..

asleep