Happy New Year!

Happy New Year everyone! It’s the year of the Dog! Have a pupperific year ❤

~sErin

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Posted in Danevbie Generation Eight - I Wanna Dream | 1 Comment

Random Blahblahblah

Hey guys I know I was on a decent roll but i need to take a short break. Maybe 2 weeks, maybe till the start of February. Once again it is my health. I am just so utterly exhausted I can barely function outside work/taking care of my dogs. I think it’s mostly my lack of sleep but I’m not completely sure. I’m gonna work on my sleep schedule as well as try to eat a bit healthier and see if that helps too. Just keep trying i guess haha

Also part of it is probably depression with my birthday coming up in a couple weeks?

Anyway I’m very sorry… I know my health is important it just feels awful not putting content out there. I will be at least writing, that is good. I’m hoping to get quite a bit written in January.

I’m so so appreciative of you guys and thankful for your support and patience as always. I hope you guys had an awesome holiday and hope you have an awesome January and please stay warm if you’re in the cold areas! I know it’s supposed to get like 5 here next week so… I can only imagine it’s worse north… so please stay warm and stay safe ❤❤❤❤
~sErin

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I Wanna Dream – 8.36 – Joy

*Apollo*

The police arrived at the park pretty quickly. Arty was with them even though her position was supposed to be pretty much strictly lab work. She ran over to me and put her arms around me, eyes big.

“Are you okay?!” she demanded. “I was just told you called the station for something and–” She stopped as she saw the baby. “What?”

I had called the police pretty much immediately, telling them what had happened. Then I picked the basket up and set it on the bench next to me and used my hand to rock the baby gently (and awkwardly), doing my best to touch as little as possible.

Soon more police showed up while one of them asked me questions. I showed them the messages sent and explained what had happened over and over, telling the short story over about ten times. I kept looking over at the baby. Could she really be mine? I knew now the baby was a little girl, as one of the officers had checked. “I doubt she’s really mine,” I said, folding my arms and hunching my shoulders. “I’ve always used protection.”

We went to the station where they took my DNA. “The baby can’t be mine,” I repeated. “Someone just wanted to pawn it off on me. I hope you can find her real parents.”

Arty sat with me in a sitting area and Reeny soon showed up. I sat between my sisters and reminded them she couldn’t be mine.

“What protection do you use?” Reeny inquired.

“Condoms, no matter what,” I said, the same thing I had told the police. “Any kind of contact. That is one of my rules. Any kind of sexual contact, there has to be protection. I know condoms aren’t 100% effective but, but–I mean, she can’t be mine.”

“Any idea of who the mother could be?” Arty asked, ignoring my protests.

“Nope. She’s not mine anyway.”

My mind thought back to nine months ago. All the women I had been with. So many women. I used condoms with every single one of them. Had any of them broke? I couldn’t remember that. Condoms occasionally broke. When they did we stopped and the woman cleaned herself out. Didn’t that work? Had any women nine months ago been one of the times the condom broke?

It didn’t take long for someone to come over to tell me that the DNA results had come back, and the girl was definitely, without a doubt, mine.

*

I never told my family but there had been several minutes where I considered letting her go to an orphanage. In those moments all I could think was how could I raise a baby? Why should I? I wasn’t ready to be a father! It would be easy to tell the police that I didn’t want to take her home, I didn’t want her. Besides would they even let me? Considering my job…

However those considerations were pushed away. This was my daughter, my own flesh and blood. My baby. When I had thought Kiley was pregnant I had been willing to take care of my baby and that had been ages ago. I still knew I couldn’t give up my own child.

It took a little bit of time and a lot of legal work but after a couple days I brought her home. Grandpa was overjoyed when we got to the house.

Those couple of days had been a blur. Paperwork and shopping. Lots of shopping. My siblings and siblings-in-law had come in to help me move the furniture out of the small room I had turned into a den to turn it into a nursery.

“Of course, she’ll be sleeping in your room for a few months,” Grandpa said.

“She will? Why?” I asked.

“You don’t have to, but it is a good, safe idea,” Dad pointed out.

So the crib went into my bedroom. The last night before I brought my daughter home I stayed up late just staring at the crib in horror and fear. How can I do this? Most people had several months to come to terms with having a baby. I only had a couple days.

Of course the police searched hard for the mother. They had her DNA information but since she wasn’t in any system it didn’t do them much good. There wasn’t any DNA that even matched it, like from a relative. It didn’t help I couldn’t give them names of women from when they figured my baby was conceived. Most the names I didn’t remember, some were regulars that I knew hadn’t been pregnant, some had been fake names, and a couple names I did remember but as they were all just first names I doubted they helped much.

“My great-grandbaby!” Grandpa cooed when I came into the house. He took her from my arms instantly. “Hello there, sweetie! I’m great-grandpa! That’s a lot to say so we can figure out a different nickname. Aren’t you the cutest?” He squiggled his fingers against her stomach. “How could anyone abandon you like that?”

The doctor had figured out she was only two days old at the most when she was found in the park. She had also been given some medicine that made her sleepy for a while, probably so she didn’t scream while her mother hid her. When the police told me that I felt viciously angry and wanted to yell at whoever did this. Two days old, given medicine, and abandoned in a park. What if I hadn’t shown up? What if a wild animal showed up instead? Or a murderer?

I looked at her in my grandpa’s arms. She was so tiny and new and helpless. How could I even begin to give her the care she needed? I knew nothing about babies! I never had to really take care of Angel when she was a baby and I was gone for a lot of her babyhood anyway. Good thing Grandpa really liked babies.

“Ack!” I yelped when Grandpa put her back in my arms.

“What are you naming her?”

Hoo boy. The big question. One whose answer hadn’t really found quite yet. A name. She needed a name and I had no idea what to name her. A name was a big deal. My father had named his kids after goddesses and a god. Dad and Suzanne named theirs Angel. Grandpa named all his kids after video game characters. Me? I had nothing.

“Do you want to name her?” I asked.

Happiness filled his face for a split-second and then he scowled. “Poliwag! No! She’s your daughter. You’re her father. You should name her.”

She began crying at that. I flinched a bit and held her up. “What do I do?” I asked. “Why is she crying? Is she mad at me?”

“She’s probably hungry. Or tired.”

“How do I know what she needs?”

“Well, check her diaper first and make sure that’s not why. Then give her a bottle. Um, one day soon you’ll be able to figure out what her cries mean.”

I unwrapped her and checked the diaper. Dry. So Grandpa took me into the kitchen and showed me how to heat up the bottle then test it on my wrist. She clamped down on the bottom and began sucking.

For a few seconds I just looked down at her feeling soft. Then something seized my heart. “Shit, Grandpa, I can’t take care of her, I was stupid.”

Grandpa sighed. “You can do it! I have faith in you!”

I shook my head. “No. It’s not that. I–I can’t. I pass out when I have my visions. I wasn’t thinking about that. If I pass out while holding her, it’ll hurt her.” My eyes met Grandpa’s eyes. “I don’t drive, I don’t cook, how the hell was I expecting to hold a baby? Here, quick!” I shuffled her and the bottle into Grandpa’s arms. “Shit. I’m so so stupid.”

Grandpa crooked her gently in his arm and fed her, probably better than I had been anyway. “Okay. Um. That is something I didn’t think of either. But we can figure it out.”

“Figure it out?! If the police knew about this they’d never have let me bring her home!” I  slammed the palm of my hand against my forehead so hard that it hurt. “Shit.”

“Stop cussing in front of the baby!”

Our argument was stopped by the doorbell ringing. My family had arrived. They knew around the time I’d be bringing the baby home and they all wanted to see her. Arty and Reeny had seen her at the station but everyone else had only really seen pictures. Everyone immediately began cooing over her. Angel jumped around wanting to hold her and after I gave permission Dad set her up on the couch and put the baby in her arms.

“I can’t believe I’m an aunt!” Angel giggled, looking at her niece with a glowing sort of pride. “She is so small!”

I just hung back and watched silently. My eight year old sister could hold my baby safer than I ever could. My heart felt punched, beat up, ripped to shreds. I couldn’t keep her. I was so stupid. Oh Watcher, the police would go nuts over this. The press would too. They had picked up the abandoned baby story and now she would be ‘abandoned’ again by her father. Watcher. Poor baby.

Grandpa sidled up to me as if reading my mind. “You can do it,” he whispered in my ear. “You rarely have visions while standing up anymore.”

“Once in a blue moon is too often. She could be–” I sucked in some air, not finishing that sentence. Grandpa looked miserable, knowing the word I refused to say. “How can I risk that? She needs someone who can be there, every minute of the day.”

“I might be old but I’m not that old, and I’m not that, um, feeble,” Grandpa said. “The family will help too. It’s not like you’re doing this alone.”

His words sounded good but he didn’t understand. He wasn’t ancient but he was too old to take care of a baby all the time. I couldn’t get up in the night and go over and pick her up to rock her or feed her. I could see it now: I pick her up and then have a vision and fall over, dropping her several feet to the floor, or maybe her teensy head hit the crib on the way down. Injuries. Taken away. Me in jail. Either way, she’d be in a new home.

Grandpa took my hand. “Poliwag. Talk to them, tell them what’s going on, and they’ll help. You know they will.”

“It’s not fair to ask them to help as much as I need help.”

“Then hire a nanny.”

…!!! DUH! I could hire a nanny. A live-in, 24/7 nanny. And when the nanny had time off, my family could help. “Grandpa, you’re a genius!” I said, hugging him tightly.

Grandpa giggled. “That’s something I never hear!” Then he stuck his tongue out at his dead husband in triumph.

*

The biggest problem about this was… well, when I was going to take my her in I had decided to quit my gigalo job and rely solely on the donations from my blog for a while. However… for a nanny… I couldn’t quit my better paid, er, employment.

Over the next few days I searched for and interviewed several possible nannies. All right, so I had pretty high standards but who could blame me? I needed someone to move in and help take care of my baby 24/7 (well minus a few breaks). During this time Grandpa did a lot of caring for my baby, as did other members of my family. Sam often came in whenever I went out on dates, sometimes Kiley. Oh Kiley loved my baby. Sometimes it seemed next to impossible to get the baby from her arms. One night when I had a very long date scheduled she stayed the night.

“You know, she needs a name,” Kiley said in the morning when I traipsed in, exhausted and wanting to just get a shower and go to bed.

“I know.” I took my baby in my arms and crooked her up a bit, snuggling against her. I felt safe holding her with someone right there to take her if I fell asleep. The day Grandpa suggested a nanny I had thought I’d never be able to hold her but soon with the help from my family I learned otherwise. Everything just had to be right in order to do so. Just, I didn’t dare do it for any extended period of time.

My baby yawned loudly, her perfect mouth stretching wide. Her lips began smacking and her eyes squinted at me. “Hey sweetheart. Oh, you’re just the best baby in the whole world. Smartest girl. Prettiest girl. Strongest girl.” I lifted her in the air and blew a raspberry against her belly. “Right sweetie? Yes, yes, who’s the cutest baby?” I pulled her close again and her tiny hands flailed in the air. Kiley stood near me, beaming. “She’s just unbelievable. How can anyone be so… perfect?” I wriggled my fingers at her. “You know, I think I know what her name is.”

*

Joy Danevbie. My little girl. Sometimes I almost caught myself calling her an angel but that felt a bit awkward with my sister being named Angel. Hah! Angel and Joy.

Joy just seemed to fit her. A bundle of joy, brightening all of our lives. Especially mine.  Even though it still shocked me that I had a baby. I was a father. It raised the question of whether I had any other babies out there. My father had never known about Piotr, and he certainly hadn’t slept with as many people as I had. Now, no matter what the situation there had been condoms–even without genitals involved–but Joy was evidence that condoms didn’t mean jack.

After about two weeks I found a nanny. A girl around my age, who seemed vaguely familiar. Dakota Bell came with glowing recommendations, spent a year at some fancy nanny school in Europe, and wanted a job here in Storybrook since it was near her aging mum. She was fine with living with us and not having as much time off as she would as a nanny that didn’t live with us. She also adored Joy and Joy seemed to take to her very well.

She also agreed to sign an agreement not to talk about things she saw and heard in the house. What with the media still after me and their suspicions as to why I wanted a 24 hour nanny. I also told her what I did for a living. She didn’t even bat an eye.

“Right now there’s a bed here in the nursery but work for your room has already started,” I explained to her after everything had been settled and I was giving her a full tour.

“My own room? The last place I worked I just lived in the nursery,” she replied.

“Er. Well, the room is right near the nursery,” I said a bit awkwardly.

Dakota and Grandpa got along pretty well too except sometimes he seemed a bit resistant at the idea of someone else helping take care of his precious great-granddaughter. Dakota also got along with everyone else involved, befriending my family without much trouble. The only one that seemed wary about her was Angel who didn’t like the idea that a strange woman was living with her big brother and helping raise Joy.

I paid extra money to get the room finished as quickly as possible and by the time October hit us, Dakota had become a solid part of the household.

*Dagger*

They had done it without Eye or Dr. Redding knowing or finding out until it happened. Dagger couldn’t imagine the fallout that would land squarely on Kaleb’s shoulders. They both knew it and he accepted it.

“These n-next couple years of s-s-spikes are small, n-nothing. Meaningless.” He folded his hands on his lap and looked up at her. “Apollo is m-m-more important.”

Dagger gave a groan and collapsed onto his couch. The last spike–the 6.2 one–hadn’t seemed big or important, just him bringing a baby home. Maybe the baby was important, or perhaps not. Sometimes the big spikes didn’t seem like a big deal. Other times they were. The night at the haunted house, the spike had been a 8.3. The destruction of Hunter’s Academy had been one of the only 9s, a 9.1. “I know but they won’t listen! Especially your sister.” She made a face.

Kaleb laughed. “No. Sh-she… d-d-doesn’t like the D-Danevbies.”

“How come?”

Kaleb rolled his wheelchair over to his dresser and began fumbling around until he found a piece of paper and a thick folder. He turned around and rolled back over to Dagger, handing her the piece of paper. It was an advert cut out of a paper. “Read it.”

“A nanny?”

Kaleb nodded and settled back in the wheelchair. “If you w-want I am g-going to send you th-there. So you c-can watch him.”

Dagger looked up. “And protect him, if need be.” She had spoken the words Kaleb didn’t. He gave a small nod. “He’s not gonna accept someone who just walks off the street.”

Kaleb handed her the folder he had gotten from the drawer. Inside were recommendations, a certificate of graduation–in short, everything she would need. “And if he calls these numbers?”

“He w-will hear about a g-girl who f-fills all of those c-criteria. We c-can… I c-can arrange th-that. Your s-story is th-that your have an ailing m-m-mother n-nearby… wh-which is why you haven’t w-worked in a c-couple years. That you t-tell him, that your m-mother is doing w-well enough for you t-to find a new job.”

Dagger gave a squeal and jumped around. Kaleb coughed, holding up one hand. “N-now wait, th-there’s no guarantee th-that you’ll g-get the job. There are m-many things that c-could go wrong.”

Dagger perched back on the edge of the chair. “No. I have faith I’ll get the job. But… what about after I disappear? What are you going to say to Eye and your sister?”

“I d-don’t know. I’ll f-figure s-something out.” He rubbed the back of his head. “They w-won’t be happy but th-they won’t be able t-to do anything unless one of th-them goes in and gets you.”

“Eye would never, he’s too worried about changing things.” Dagger began nibbling at a strand of hair. “Dr. Redding might.”

“No. Sh-she won’t risk it.” But Kaleb didn’t look too sure. “Look. We will do this. We b-both know that Apollo is involved and is a k-key to the–the–“

“Spike of Destruction?” Dagger suggested and the professor gave her another smile. “I’m glad you agree. Thank you for doing this.”

She prepared for several days. Reading over the little bit of info Kaleb had found about Dakota Bell, and preparing herself to living with Apollo if things worked out. She’d have to be incredibly careful not to reveal herself. He had seen her once before, in that house when she killed the ghost. But she had had different colored eyes. This time she’d have her normal eye color, and what the hell, her normal hair color too (though she might cover her freckles). She hoped he wouldn’t remember that night. It had been eight years since that night in that house. Hopefully he wouldn’t connect the dots.

Finally the time came. She had plenty of money to pay for a hotel room and buy new clothes. She and Kaleb also had a plan to bring her back in case she didn’t get the job. It won’t be needed, I’ll get it, she thought confidently as she and Kaleb sneaked into the lab. He turned on all the machines and began inputting the code needed to send her to Storybrook County. It wasn’t the farthest she’d ever been but every time she teleported it gave her a little bit of a thrill. She had been doing it since she turned eighteen, hopping around and following the various spikes indicating possible and definite danger to the balance of magic in the world while also trying to find history on spikes from the past.

Most the spikes revolved around the Danevbies.

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The fourth worst spike–9.5–was when Jacob Danevbie had been just a newborn baby, and the earliest possible date the tracking of magic could start. No one at the lab could be sure what the problem was. Just that it was like suddenly–well, suddenly the world came into existence which was ridiculous since obviously the world existed before that. And magic did too, although it just seemed like according to all the research they could do made it seem like suddenly bam, the world went from grey to color like in that old movie. The magic tracking started, zigzagging gently except for times when something threatened to tip over the magic, or destroy the magic, which would, according to everything they could see, destroy the entire world. Too much or too little and who knew what would happen.

Like when Zaid died. That had been the third worst spike. 9.7. That was before Dagger’s time. Before the facility even started although it’s what gave Dr. Redding the idea to start the lab, to track the magic in the world, to figure out a pattern. Kaleb had told her that his sister had been at the battle, that she had seen Zaid take in centuries of magic. Or less than centuries of magic. A lot of magic. Dagger wished she could see it. She had a probably unhealthy obsession with Zaid. And his son. And the entire Danevbie family. She felt connected to them in some sort of way. Part of her was convinced she was a Danevbie. She looked a little like Zaid, and almost exactly like a Danevbie when she put in green contacts. Maybe if her nose was a little smaller. They had weirdly small noses, some of them did.

Dagger stood in the spot to be sent hundreds of miles away. If this went well, she wouldn’t be returning for a while. Not until she found out the truth. What the Danevbie family had to do with the weird magic, the spikes of destruction, and, well, everything. Especially about the big spike coming up.

The second worst ‘spike of destruction’ was still to come, in a few years. In the woods near Moonlight Falls, although (perhaps thankfully) not the spot where Zaid had died. A ten. Dagger and Kaleb were both certain it involved Apollo, and the vision he occasionally had about someone destroying the world.

“Are you r-ready?”

“Yes!”

Dagger picked up the suitcase. She couldn’t think about her past self or the possibility of mistakes. This would be it, her biggest challenge yet. Apollo was the key to the second biggest spike.

The biggest spike was way in the future, generations away. It was beyond a ten, beyond their ability to chart the balance of magic. Beyond anything any of them could imagine. They couldn’t go to the future so they couldn’t spend time worrying about that spike. This spike–that was the one to worry about. After all if it altered anything the big spike would never happen. Would that be a good thing or a bad thing? And what if it did alter the world? How could it? One thing they did know was the spikes in the future… past the second biggest spike (Spike of Destruction) were likely to change. They just weren’t really sure why.

Apollo’s visions of the future… she wasn’t sure yet if they could change. Living with him maybe she could find out. Oh, there was so much that she could find out! Just, carefully. Very carefully.

“Five… f-four… th-three… t-two… one.”

A flash of light, and Dagger teleported through the universe, hundreds of miles away from the Rood’s Research Facility to Storybrook County… to hopefully become the nanny to Apollo’s kid and find a way to save the world.

Posted in Danevbie Generation Eight - I Wanna Dream | 2 Comments

I Wanna Dream – 8.35 – At The Park

Over the next year and few months my life became pretty great. I wasn’t scraping for money and often could just go out a couple times a week, as well as go on several vacations. I nearly bought a vacation home in Sunlit Tides but instead spent the money on other things. Mostly charities and tips. I really enjoyed going out to eat and leaving a hundred simoleon tip, or even more sometimes. Or ordering in though because that usually meant I was still face-to-face with the delivery person who would gush and sputter over their tip that felt a bit more awkward. I always tipped my drivers well. It felt so nice to be able to do this. As for charities, I began donating monthly to several charities. A couple were overseas types of things but most were just local. A battered woman’s shelter. Two homeless shelters. When the parks and recs was considering getting rid of a basketball court because the cost to repair things were high, I donated enough to cover the fees. Ditto to the elementary school needing new computers, or the library needing a new heater.

I didn’t tell anyone about this (well, the tips to people couldn’t be hidden too much). But the donations I kept anonymous and private.

I really couldn’t figure out how I was getting all this money. People–especially older women–liked me, they were willing to pay a lot for me to take them out. Wine and dine them. Make love to them. Or wild sex, whatever. Couples were a very good source of income. Spicing up a couple of marriages alone paid for the school’s computers. My family had sort of accepted all of this. They stopped giving me weird looks when I gave them nice gifts (except Arty, she’d still get this little nose wrinkle).

My blog continued to grow and the money coming in from that helped as well. My bank account grew, my donations continued, my vacations were amazing, I extended my house, I added a swimming pool, a hot tub, an exercise room (I had to keep in shape!). Grandpa got some good things too. I bought him a keyboard and a foot massaging chair and a fancy guitar he’d been wanting. I bought nice food, I hired a maid who got paid higher than normal wages and kept the house immaculate.

I was making bank.

But I was also aware how lucky I had been. Everything had fallen into place for me. Many others in similar situations… well, weren’t in my situation. Part of me felt guilty knowing some people with this sort of job were struggling. But I doubted if I quit it would help.

*

Several days after my 22nd birthday the doorbell rang. I set my glass of wine down and made my way to the door. To my surprise and slight unease the man on my doorstep held up a police badge.

“Detective Bowman. My assistant, Patterson. Do you have a moment, Mr. Danevbie?”

“Certainly. Come in.”

I stepped aside and he walked in followed by another detective. I managed to keep my face passive as this detective passed by me although his eyes got a little wide and fearful. He, his wife, and I had a threesome a month or so ago when they decided that their ten year wedding anniversary needed some fun. I had no idea he was in the police force and now he was here to question me over something. Welp.

“What’s this about, detectives?” I asked, following them into the living room.

Bowman put his hands behind his back and looked around the room while Patterson kept his head down, focusing on his notepad, although his cheeks were slightly pink. I could practically hear the weird sex noises he had made that night. I felt a bit sorry for him being in this situation.

“Could you please tell us where you were on the night…” I swear if Bowman said the night I was with the Patterons I was going to laugh. “… July second?”

“Oh!” I almost did laugh. “Yes, actually. What times?”

Bowman stared at me. “All night.”

“Well. Most the day I was here, with my grandfather. At six I got into a cab–I don’t remember the number or the driver’s name but I can give you the name of the company I always go with so they’ll know–and went to Jackson’s restaurant to meet up with some friends and family to celebrate my birthday. We had dinner there from, uh, six-twentyish? To maybe eight-thirty? Then we went to the Pink Flamingo until midnight. I came back here afterwards. I had a nighttime swim, took a bath, watched a movie, went to bed at around, hmm, just before 4 in the morning.” Patterson wrote all this down while Bowman just kept glaring at me. I smiled at him. “Is that all?”

“Anyone here at night?”

“My grandfather.”

“Asleep, so no alibi.”

At that word a chill went down my spine. “Actually he was awake till two in the morning playing video games. He saw me come in from swimming and when I got out of the bathroom. But I didn’t have anyone in the room with me when I watched the movie.” I did my best to keep my face casual. “What’s this about?”

“What was your relationship with Boris Drummond?”

I cocked my head to one side. “I don’t know that name.”

Bowman’s lips curled in a sinister way as he took a few steps closer to me. “Is that so? Not even in your… ahh… profession?”

So at least they knew that. “The name doesn’t ring a bell, but people don’t always give me their real names.”

“If you don’t know him then how is it you described his murder accurately before it happened?” Bowman leaned in very close. “Hmmm?”

I paled. “Wh-what?”

Boris Drummond. Fifty-three years old. Murdered July 2nd. Bowman had me take him to my computer and load up my blog, a post from October of the previous year. My hand shook as I guided the mouse to the proper post. I couldn’t remember the actual vision but it was one of the ones I wrote about right after the vision happened.

“‘Beige walls, almost as pale as oatmeal’,” Bowman read, his finger pressed against my computer screen. “‘Along the wall to the left of the front door the blood is splattered thinly. Almost like a connect-the-dot puzzle. The kind you don’t want to connect’.”

My heart rose into my throat as he continued. I didn’t go into the gory details but I did talk a little bit about the body, including the strange twisted position and the way the knife stuck out of his chest. His throat had been slashed then the murderer stabbed him multiple times. I hadn’t written how many times exactly but I did say ‘maybe a dozen’.

“Thirteen times, including the final stab,” Bowman said darkly, his mouth near my ear. “You even described his clothes accurately.”

I pushed away from the computer and put my head in my hands. “Detective, surely you read more of my blog. I–I’m a psychic. I see things. I wrote about this months ago… I also wrote about other things. D–disasters, natural disasters.” Bowman shook his head. I felt desperate and scared. “Sir, why would I describe a murder and then go out and commit it exactly? It makes no sense.”

“People do crazy things. There is also the possibility one of your followers did this. We’ll need a list of all your followers. We also have more questions for you…”

The afternoon was spent being questioned over and over. It became harder to retain my composure and I repeated continually that these were visions I couldn’t control. I handed over all the information they wanted from my blog. Bowman acted extremely suspicious of me while Patterson never once looked at me. Once they left I texted Sam, asking for him to come over. I told him everything–all the things the detectives said and how frightened I felt about the fact they considered me a suspect!

Sam calmed me down, pointing out they hadn’t taken me back to the precinct for an actual interrogation. “I’m sure it was just something they needed to do, to tick of their list. Besides, it might have been a follower of your blog.”

Those words didn’t comfort me. Arty didn’t comfort me either when she came by later and told me she had overheard my name being talked about at the station. “I don’t think you’re a proper suspect,” she said slowly, “but they are talking about you.”

I sat on pins and needles for several days. Every time the phone rang or someone knocked at the door I jumped. I (somehow) managed not to be too antsy on my dates or when I typed up my blog posts. I continued the blogging and didn’t mention that one of my murder visions had come true. How long until someone else noticed and started talking about it on the forums?

Arty did find out the murder happened before midnight, which meant I had a solid alibi of being at the club with Sam, Reeny, Kiley, and Arty herself. However Bowman and Patterson came back once more to question me some more (as in, Bowman questioning me while Patterson acted as if looking me would result in the fact he had hired me would somehow be revealed). And then three weeks after their initial visit I read in the papers that Drummond’s murderer had been caught. It had been his nephew, a gambler who murdered him for money. He had been found out when an item from Drummond’s house was found at a pawn shop.

I breathed a sigh of relief and celebrated with a fancy bottle of vodka for mixed drinks to share with Sam and Kiley. “I am never going to write about those sorts of visions on my blog anymore,” I said as we clinked the glasses together. “And I hope to never deal with the police again! Besides my sister, of course.”

My desire to avoid the police lasted a couple weeks and then something happened that threw me into their path.

On August seventeenth I got ready for a date. A big date. The lady had offered a lot of money for a long night. I figured it’d be mostly sex.

I took a cab to the park where we were to meet. There wasn’t anything too unusual about her wanting to meet at the park, I met several dates at the park. I just hoped she didn’t want to, ahh, do it in the park. I didn’t like having sex in places where we could get caught and I avoided those sorts of requests as much as possible. But… well, a lot of money was on the line here and I wanted a trampoline.

I strolled into the park and took a seat at the bench mentioned in the message. Specifically this bench. Which did make me wonder. Was I being set up for something? I had saved both of this mysterious woman’s messages for evidence and Sam was at home in case I needed some help.

The early evening air felt nice. The day had been really hot (thank Watcher for my pool!) but it seemed like it might storm later in the night or early the next morning. I hoped so. We needed the rain.

I reclined back on the bench and looked at the sky while my mind turned over the same thoughts, repeating and repeating. Who was this woman? Would she even show up? Was this a set up?

I checked my watch. Five minutes after eight. Five minutes later. Oh well. I began scanning the area but saw no one. Another five minutes. And then…

“Wehhh… wehhhhh…. waaahhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

I leapt to my feet at the sound, the very loud sound. “What the hell?!” I hissed out as I looked behind me, my hands going to my ears. There was a baby?

“WhhhhAHHHHHHHHHWWWNNNNNNNAAAAA!” the baby screeched.

It sounded so close but I couldn’t see anyone, nor could I hear anyone trying to comfort the baby. I stepped towards the sound and then finally realized it was right there! I circled the bench and my jaw dropped.

There was a baby, curled up in a basket, a pink blanket covering most of its body. Its mouth was wide as it screamed.

I bent down to stare at the envelope sitting on top of the blanket. It had my name on it. Apollo Danevbie. The baby screamed even louder as I picked the envelope up.

Something deep inside knew what was written on the letter inside before I even unfolded the paper. There were a couple of paragraphs of spidery writing but my eyes zoomed in on one sentence that jumped out from the rest of the text.

Apollo, the baby is yours.

I dropped the letter and sank to my knees by the basket that held my screaming child.

*?*

She stumbled down the hall, blood dripping from her hand. Her hair fell into her eyes and she grunted when she bumped into a door. She pushed at it with her bloodied hand, leaving a smear on the wood. Inside the room there was dozens of computers and strange electronics. In front of one computer sat a young man and he looked up when she came in. His eyes immediately focused on the blood.

“What. The. Hell.”

He stood up, adjusting his glasses. “She is going to kill you!”

The girl lifted her hand to stare at the cut. “Yeah. Well. She’s always threatening to kill me.” She licked her lips and then accepted the handkerchief the man offered. “She’s crazy.”

He sighed and grabbed a phone, pressing a few buttons. “Liles, Dagger needs help. Again.” He spoke the last word with venom as he glowered at the girl. She gave a shrug and a smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Dagger tossed her hair back and went over to the computer he had been at. “Found another spike?”

“Yeah, it’s coming up pretty soon.” He came over and tapped the screen. “It’s with him. Again. As always.”

Dagger sucked in some air through her teeth then she laughed and rose to her feet. “Psychobitch is gonna looooove that! What the hell is her problem with the Danevbies anyway? They’re so cool.”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know, Zaid’s a god we should all worship.” The young man rolled his eyes. “And stop wearing those contacts. You’re not a Danevbie, even though you might look like one in other aspects!”

“Zaid saved all our lives!” she snapped.

He shrugged. “Yeah, and if we don’t get this fucking thing figured out, it’ll be for nothing cause we’ll all die! Hey Liles.”

Lilah Nazah floated into the room. “Omigosh, Dags, that looks awful! What happened?” She grabbed Dagger’s hand and gave the gash a kiss. The wound began healing as Lilah wiped the blood from her mouth.

“I was training with Psychobitch and grabbed a knife the wrong way,” Dagger answered.

“Wait, she knows you spread blood everywhere?” the young man asked as he fixed his glasses again. “You could have told me that.”

“Like, it totally looks like a murder scene out there,” Lilah added, waving one hand towards the door. “We’re gonna hafta clean it.”

“That is what the maids are for,” the man grumbled.

Lilah put her hands on her hips and stomped one foot. “Oh–my–gosh! Eye, you, like, totally suck! No! I am not leaving such a mess for someone to clean!”

“Like, they totally get paid for it!” Eye said, mimicking Lilah’s voice in an even more annoying way.

Lilah narrowed her eyes. “At Hunters we had to, like, share the chores? And stuff? And it sucked. I know what it is like to clean up other people’s messes? I am gonna help them? Because it’s what a decent person does? But you wouldn’t, like, know anything about being decent, Eye!” She whirled around to face Dagger. “He sucks.”

Dagger giggled. “He does. I’ll help you clean.”

Eye sneered. “Right. How dare we leave the mess for the paid cleaning service to clean.”

Now both girls glared. Lilah pulled a face and Dagger couldn’t help but giggle which set Lilah off. She was a few years older than Lilah but as soon as the faerie joined the company the two of them got along very well. Maybe because she had been good friends with Apollo. It felt so weird, though, like some sort of… betrayal. After all, Dagger had been half-stalking Apollo for quite some time. She had been there when he went to his father’s death place both times, and had even saved Apollo’s life–and the other kids–the night several years ago at that haunted house.

The spike that night had been so big. Dagger had gone, not even expecting to have to step in. The moment she saw Apollo’s life at risk she knew she had to do something. Thank the Watcher she had her ghost-banishing knives that she carried with her in case. There were too many evil spirits out there in the world. When Dagger had been given the knives, she had always–always–kept them at hand.

Of course she had never told Lilah the truth. She couldn’t. If Lilah knew the extent of what they were doing she might… do something about it, or try to do something about it. Like tell Apollo. Of course, Dagger thought they should go to Apollo anyway since he was the key. In her opinion. And the professor’s opinion.

“And speaking of messes,” Eye added as the door opened and in walked the Psychobitch herself.

Dr. Jay Redding folded her arms, her icy green eyes flashing. “Be careful of what you say. You may one day soon become expendable.”

Eye smiled sweetly. “I doubt anyone else could work these machines. There’s only one other wizard with electronic magic and A, his is geared more to–well, gears. And B, he punched you when you tried to recruit him.”

Dr. Redding’s cheeks twitched a bit. “He did not punch me. He used his magic to push me back.” She took a few quick strides and grabbed Eye by the neck, easily lifting him off the ground despite the fact he was several inches taller and over 40 pounds heavier. She squeezed and Eye gagged. “It would do you well not to anger me.” She gave another squeeze then dropped him. He fell back, clutching his throat where bruises were beginning to form. “Nazah, if you put your lips anywhere near those marks, you will receive some of your own,” she warned.

Lilah spread her hands out. “Like, I’m mad at him? So it won’t happen.”

“You should not even be in here, this is level A only,” the doctor snarled.

“Oops!” Lilah giggled. “Yes, but, like, you hurt Dagger and she needed help. I’m going. See ya, Dags!” She blew a kiss to her friend then flew out.

Dr. Redding shut the door behind her then returned to Eye, grabbing him on either side of his face. “You insolent swine,” she hissed and pressed in. Eye began kicking and grabbing at her hands. “I should pop your eyes out and force you to eat them!” The doctor shoved him back, sending him hard into one of the desks. “When is the next spike?”

Dagger just watched, not daring to interfere even though she preferred Eye over the Psychobitch. At least he was irreplaceable for the time being, unless the Doctor ever did manage to convince another one of Apollo’s friends to join the company. But Eli Rose had totally freaked the one and only time the Doctor tried to talk to him. So unless she ever tried again, Eye couldn’t be killed. He knew this and used it to his advantage of being the only person in the entire facility to mouth off to the doctor.

Eye collected himself and went back to the main computer. “In a few days. It is at Apollo Danevbie’s residence.”

Dagger opened her mouth but before she spoke, Dr. Redding held up a finger. “Not a word about this, Dagger. Not a single word.”

Her mouth closed and she bit her tongue. Then, meekly, “Am I to go watch his house?”

Dr. Redding leaned in to examine the zigzags on the screen. She traced one finger along the upcoming spike. “It is a 6.2. Yes. However, it does not mean–“

“It does mean!” Dagger blurted out. “Apollo–“

“He is NOTHING to do with this! With our work!” Dr. Redding yelled. “It is mere coincidence that he is involved with some–not all–of the spikes! AND TAKE OUT THOSE DAMN CONTACTS!”

Dagger left the room and stomped through the halls. She hated it, she couldn’t stand the fact that they were trying to save the world and she knew Apollo was one of the keys. All the weird supernatural and unknown spikes around the Danevbie family… how could a Danevbie not be the key? Especially one that could see and experience the future.

Besides. Something she hadn’t told anyone. One of the times she had been shadowing Apollo she had overheard about one of his visions. He yelled about the end of the world. It had to be the spike. It couldn’t just be coincidence. He had already seen the spike in the magic timeline of the world, he knew what was coming. He had seen when the spike started and things started to unravel.

He knew and she had to find out what. And prevent it. Probably with him. And not the Doctor. Cause the Psychobitch really did deserve to be locked away with no key.

Posted in Danevbie Generation Eight - I Wanna Dream | 3 Comments

Net Neutrality

Hey guys just a note about net neutrality. Meant to do this sooner but have been busy. But we still have till December 14th!

I’m urging my readers to help fight for this. As someone with extreme social anxiety I know it can be hard but this is important. One big way it will change things is, if it goes through, I don’t think I’ll be able to continue Danevbies. And if I do, it’ll be without pictures at all (cause I cannot afford to pay more to have better access to wordpress). I’ll actually probably lose most my internet access.

Here is a petition you can sign

You can also text resist bot which is something I am doing, this helps you contact your senators! Just text “resist” to 50409 and the bot will help you. Make sure to send the message to SENATE.

Email one of the following:

  • Ajit Pai – Ajit.Pai@fcc.gov
  • Michael O’Rielly – Mike.ORielly@fcc.gov
  • Brendan Carr – Brendan.Carr@fcc.gov

Explain why net neutrality is important to you. Don’t be rude or use harsh language, it will just set us back.

You can go here: https://www.fcc.gov/ecfs/filings/express

And the explanation of what to do is in this picture, hopefully you can see it:

It is so ridiculous we have to fight this in this day and age but we have to, have to try.

Don’t give up!!!!

~sErin

Posted in Notes | 4 Comments

Halp!

Okay guys here’s the deal:

Sims 3 is being SUPER CRAPPY for me. Sims are not rendering properly. Basically they look blurry and unfinished.

Kinda hard to tell since it’s dark but it’s more noticeable on his shirt but his face is a bit blurry and his eyes are weird looking.

I don’t know how to fix this. Sometimes my sims render, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they render fine on a huge lot filled with stuff, sometimes they don’t, ditto with small lots/nothing. This is very frustrating and while I want my sims to look great, it does hinder picture taking, makes picture taking last a long time or over several days, gets in the way of updating chapters.

My question is this:

Would you guys be okay if some of the pictures have this issue? If some of the pictures the sims are a bit blurry? Or will it be too annoying? I… would prefer them to look crisp and proper but at this point I just don’t know if I can fix this, and if I can’t fix it that will reduce chapter updates greatly if I try to make things look perfect.

Sims 3 crashes a lot and is very laggy and just more problems on top of all that… it makes me so upset and makes me want to give up playing sims 3. But I can never give up Danevbies so I will push through. And I just need to know if you guys will be okay with me just having to push through this issue by having blurry sims sometimes.

:\

~sErin

Posted in Notes | 16 Comments

I Wanna Dream – 8.34 – Two Weddings And A Funeral

Arty refused to talk to me over the next couple days. She didn’t respond to texts or answered my calls. I finally messaged Kiley. I didn’t want to go that route but I really needed to discuss things with my sister. At first I thought Kiley was ignoring me too since she didn’t reply to my text but then that evening Arty showed up at the house.  We sat in the living room and talked for a good long while. After she asked I ended up telling her how it started and why I did it.

“So, you’re just in it for money?” she asked.

“Not exactly. I mean, that’s a big part of it but… I’ve found I can really make people feel good about themselves,” I explained. “Women who aren’t conventionally attractive or older and cannot find someone who appreciates them for the amazing ladies they are.”

“How can they be amazing if they pay for sex?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, no! It’s not like that for everyone. I mean yes, a lot of people do want the sex, but a lot of people want the dating thing. To go out on the arm of someone like me. To have me shower them with compliments and adoration.”

“But, it’s only gotten through paying someone, how can that make anyone feel good about themselves?” Arty asked very impatiently.

“Look, I won’t pretend I fix things. I don’t know how some of the people feel after. I just pour everything I can into the date we do have, or dates. I just… I give them a moment. I’m good at what I do, and overall I’m honest. I do feel that these people I go out deserve what they’ve been denied because of society’s obsession with certain looks, weights, or ages, and haven’t had the luck to meet someone who can get past that. The only people I have difficulty with are, frankly, because of their personalities and not looks. A woman I went out with a couple weeks ago started yelling at our waitress because she didn’t bring us a new basket of bread.” The mere memory of that incident made my toes curl. “I pointed out that the restaurant was busy and all of that but she just told me that the restaurant needed to hire smarter people. She said this in front of her! And of course didn’t leave a tip.”

Arty tipped her head to one side. “Did you finish the date?”

“Ye-es,” I drew out. “And I gave her what she paid for. But man, it was very difficult. I went back the next day and gave the waitress a big tip.” Actually I gave her half of what that woman paid me and the girl looked like she might cry when she saw the money.

“Have you ever ended a date?”

Now my lips pressed tightly together. “Yes, a couple times my dates have ended. A few times have been because of my–err–visions. I warn in my profile what could happen but some people don’t believe it or understand. Then sometime last autumn a woman wanted something I didn’t want to do, and I stated explicitly in my profile I don’t do.” When Arty just waited for more I coughed. “BDSM. I don’t care if there’s some tying up or, uh, spanking, but more than that I just don’t feel okay doing and this woman really pushed for more and I ended the date.”

She had more questions though some of them as soon as I started answering she’d stop me because it was TMI. Most of them were along the lines of trying to figure out the why. I did my best to explain to her that I liked making people happy and giving them their night or nights of pleasure. Some people were lonely and were willing to pay for companionship, or some people–most people–wanted some sex, if not from me they’d pick someone else. I didn’t feel guilty.

Finally her questions seemed to end. “I still don’t get why you do this instead of a normal job.” She folded her hands in her laps and frowned. “It just seems so… gross… sleeping with strangers all the time.”

“Eh. People have casual hookups all the time. I get paid for it.” We sat in awkward silence for nearly a full minute. “You don’t hate me, do you?”

“No. You’re my brother, I couldn’t hate you!” Arty gave me a bit of a smile. “I think it’s disgusting but it’s your life, your body. It’s better than being a crooked politician or embezzling CEO or something.”

Arty and I hugged tightly before she left. I thought that was that until Grandpa fixed dinner. We sat down to eat like normal but before I even got through two bites Grandpa blurted out that Grandfather had accidentally overheard the conversation Arty and I had earlier.

“What?! Accidentally? Or purposefully?”

Grandpa stared at me with huge, huge eyes. “An accident I promise! He doesn’t stay by my side all the time, sometimes I need some alone time, sometimes he does.” He began poking his food fervently with his fork. “So you, um, you… you…”

I bowed my head and began massaging my forehead. I felt too tired to dance around this. “Yeah, I get paid to date people and sleep with them.” I peeked up past my hand to see his reaction.

He just kept staring with those big eyes. “Are you happy with your life doing this?”

“Well, sorta. I mean like, if something better fell in my lap that gave me as much money for similar hours, I wouldn’t say no… but I am as happy with this job as I would be with any other, I imagine. Happier than being in the business world like Piotr, that’s for sure.”

“Oh. Ok!” He smiled and began eating again.

“Is that it?! Is that all you’re going to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked.

“Your grandson just told you he’s a gigalo and you’re just, okay with that?”

“Why not? It’s nothing I’d ever do. I’ve only ever been with Specter.” He turned to smile at the air. “Only one I ever really wanted to be with, really.” Now he bent forward to look me in the eye. “It’s not something I’d choose for you, of course, and I’d like it more if you were, uhhh, if you had a different job. But, um, yeah, as long as you’re happy with your choice than I can’t complain too much.”

I let out a long, relieved sigh. Then he added, “Your grandfather’s not as happy but he’s just worried about meeting up with strangers. But I think you can handle yourself. Stop scowling at him, Specter, it’s not our decision. He said he’s happy so we should accept that. Well I doubt he meets people in dark alleyways! You know, you chose a lifestyle that threw yourself into danger for a long time so you can’t just–oh stop that, it was so dangerous! After we got together I was worried about you lots and lots and you were SO in danger sometimes! Stop it!” Grandpa shook his head and then continued arguing with his dead husband for almost the entire meal.

*

Well with Arty, Kiley, and Grandpa all knowing the truth I figured I should let the rest of my family know. I told Reeny first. Her nose wrinkled up and like Arty she had some questions (not as many as Arty though). She wasn’t as accepting as Grandpa but not as disgusted as Arty.

“Just be careful, and if you ever need to get out of a situation call me,” she said.

Next I talked to Dad. I was worried most about this conversation since I had no idea how he’d take it. He was very shocked when I admitted everything and gave him my reasons. He wanted some time to process the information and the next few times I saw him he would give me this upset look. I knew I had disappointed him and that hurt more than Arty’s disgust. After a couple weeks he began talking to me again though it seemed a bit strained. When we properly chatted about it he admitted a big part of it was anxiety like Grandfather: worried about me meeting up with strangers from the internet.

“I’ll never understand it… but…” Dad hesitated then laughed. “Jeez.”

“What?”

“Your father…”

“What about him?” I asked.

“I can just see him now, complaining about this and being a total hypocrite.”

“Hypocrite?! Did he ever–” I stopped myself, utterly bewildered at Dad’s words. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on. Lucja Rutkowski is a nice woman but you honestly don’t believe she and your father ever felt romance between them? No, she was pretty much his sugar mama.”

If I had a drink I would’ve spit it out all over myself.

*

After my family found out the truth things felt better. For the most part. Sure sometimes things would feel awkward between me and my sisters or father (and probably eventually Piotr but I hadn’t really told him yet). But at least I didn’t have to make up explanations for all my random dates. Or my money.

Speaking of money, Arty and Kiley’s wedding came up. I knew they had struggled to get the funds together for their wedding and I wanted to help out but they politely turned my offer down. So I bought them most their registry including some nice furniture they wanted. I knew they’d both yell at me when it was delivered but I didn’t care. I could afford to give them these things, why shouldn’t I?

Artemis and Kiley got married on September first, a little over a year since they started dating. The morning of when I went to our dad’s house I bumped into Arty in the hall. It was the split-second vision I had a long time ago. She stood in her wedding dress and looked completely beautiful.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” I said and put my arms around her tightly.

“I can’t either,” she breathed out, a few tears coming to her eyes. “I’m so lucky to have found Kiley…!”

The wedding was wonderful. They exchanged vows and rings, kissing under a shower of flower petals. Watcher! Arty and Kiley. Kiley was now my sister-in-law!

“And I couldn’t be happier,” I told them at the reception and gave them both hugs and kisses on their cheeks. Kiley’s eyes shone while Arty grinned all embarrassed.

Our friends from school had been invited. Blake, Eli, Varuna, Booker, and Ginny especially, although Lilah had been unable to make it. It was awesome seeing them all again except for Eli who looked even thinner and paler and spent pretty much the entire time with a deep frown on his face. Varuna kept arguing with him like they always did in school but he’d just shrug.

They were all invited to Sam and Reeny’s wedding, too, six months later. Now this wedding hit me a bit harder than Arty and Kiley. Sam was my best friend, pretty much my brother! And I stood next to him while he held my sister’s hands and told her how much he loved and adored her. They also exchanged some sort of elvish vows. None of us really understood what they were saying but it was still beautiful.

Their reception was small and held outside despite the very cold February weather. At least the sun was shining even if there was snow everywhere. Dad was so happy and emotional he didn’t even scowl once at being outside so much (although Arty grumbled about the insanity of our sister having an outdoor February reception in ankle deep snow).

That evening after everything was said and done, Sam offered for me and our friends to come back to their place to hang out.

“What?” Blake cried out. “Hang out while you two get it on? Nah!”

Sam punched him in the arm. “No! Come on, we rarely get to see one another anymore, and Eli is leaving tomorrow morning. So I think we should all visit.”

“But what about the wedding night?” Booker asked with a yawn.

“Plus we all hung out at your boring, stripper-less bachelor party last night,” Blake added.

Sam punched him again. “Boring? You got blind drunk and kept trying to kiss my fridge and you told it you loved it.”

“It had pizza in it.”

“If you don’t want to hang out that’s fine, but I’d love it if we could visit some more.”

We did end up hanging out at his and Reeny’s house along with a bunch of college friends of Reeny’s. Blake got blind drunk again and this time tried to kiss one of Reeny’s friends who seemed more than happy to reciprocate. We had an absolute blast playing video games, dancing to music videos,and playing stupid games that got us all laughing.

At about four in the morning when things were winding down Reeny took me aside. “I’m glad you’re okay with all this.”

“I’ve been having fun tonight!”

My sister chuckled. “No, I mean, me and Sam. Ever since I realized I had feelings for him I’ve been worried about how you’d react. Even when you seemed fine while we were dating… to be honest, a little part of me wondered if our wedding would make you realize we were… you know, getting married.”

I put my hands on her arms. “Reens I couldn’t imagine a better wife for Sam, and I couldn’t imagine a better husband for you.”

“Because we’re both elves or because he’s asexual so you won’t go all weird brother?”

“First of all, I’d never go ‘weird brother’. Because you two are incredible together.” Our eyes met and I gave her a big smile. “Anyone can see that. No matter what. Okay?”

“Thank you.”

We hugged each other then I gave Sam a hug and then Booker drove the guys back to my place where they’d been staying. Blake crooned some sort of love song while Eli just looked grimly out the window as if he expected something to happen.

*

Sam and I still hung out all the time and often Kiley joined us. Sometimes I looked at them and felt shock that they were both related to me now, officially. Yet it felt right. It had always been meant to be. In fact when I began planning a big summer vacation I invited my sisters and their spouses to come along without needing to help pay for the rented house, just gas and food. They all seemed uncomfortable until I gave in a bit about the rented house. Artemis still frowned about it but they agreed, and we began planning a big two week long vacation to Sunlit Tides.

However just as we started the planning I had a vision. A horrible vision. I was on a date when this vision hit and when I came to I found the woman kneeling next to me, a cold washcloth in hand.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she said, eyes huge. “You said–some things–“

“I know,” I gasped, struggling to get to my feet. “I’m sorry I have to go, I’m so sorry. If you want to do this again sometime you won’t need to give me anything.”

“Oh! I understand. Yes, that’d be fine.”

I grabbed all my clothes, apologized once more, then got a cab as quick as I could. I paid the driver extra to hurry. I called Sam and explained to him about the vision as well as my plans. “Have you called him?” Sam asked through a yawn though I could hear him getting dressed as he spoke.

“No, I’d rather say this to his face. I’ll give you a text. I think he’ll agree.”

We got to my place and I threw a lot of money at the cabbie and ran in. My heart felt ready to leap out of my throat. How could I say this? I had failed once before. I couldn’t fail again. Memories of Aunt Lumie filled my head as I ripped open Grandpa’s door.

It took me a moment to wake him up. Watcher. He looked so innocent and young as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Grandpa… I’m sorry to wake you up I just, I had a vision and it involved you.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’. “What’s wrong, Poliwag?”

I reached out and took his hands. “It’s your sister. Something’s happened, or will happen. She’s going to… to pass away… in twelve hours…”

*

Sam drove us to Green Valley, where my great-aunt lived. Grandpa called immediately after I told him about my vision. My vision had been him receiving a phone call and how he slid down to the floor crying. He said out loud ‘My sister just died’, probably to Grandfather. I had noticed behind him the calendar (he always Xed the days off) and the clock.

In any case, Grandpa called and found out that his sister was in the hospital. She had felt weak and had been having a lot of issues walking because everything was dizzy. They thought something was wrong with her heart.

Grandpa cried into my shoulder for most the trip while Sam pretty much ignored the speed limit signs. Green Valley was several hours away and we didn’t have that much time. He had talked to his nephew, Michael, and Michael had promised that his mother felt good. Grandpa didn’t mention the vision.

“I didn’t wanna scare him,” Grandpa croaked out. “I should have visited her more often. I didn’t see her much, not recently.”

“Already my vision’s been changed with us leaving our house to be there,” I said, squeezing Grandpa. “So the rest could change.”

Could,” he sniffled.

*

In the end the rest of my vision didn’t change. Great-Aunt Miracle still passed away at the time I had guessed. She had a heart attack and just couldn’t survive. However instead of Grandpa hearing it over the phone, he was in the room with her. He had talked to her in her last hours and held her hand until the Reaper showed up to take Miracle’s soul to the Nether.

Because Sam and I didn’t have ‘regular’ jobs we stayed in Green Valley for the week. I canceled my plans and all Sam had to do was let Reeny know which of course she was more than okay with.

“I’m so happy you can be there for Grandpa,” she told him.

Great-Aunt Miracle’s memorial service was huge. Her late husband had been a beloved pastor of the community so practically half the valley came to pay their respects. Grandpa spoke at the service, recalling the few, spotty memories he had of his childhood with his big sister. Then he sat next to me nodding his head as his nieces and nephew spoke about their mother. Commanding, strong, stubborn. Kick down the door if she thought you needed help. Later after the graveside service Grandpa told me about how she had searched for him nonstop for literally decades.

“I was never a good enough brother to her,” he said when he finished.

Sam put his hand on Grandpa’s shoulder. “If she spent so much time searching for you, it sounds like you were more than good enough for her.”

Grandpa broke down in more tears at that.

And when we got home I hugged Reeny tightly, hugged Arty tightly, hugged Angel tightly, and called Piotr to let him know how much I cared and how happy I was to have them as my siblings.

Posted in Danevbie Generation Eight - I Wanna Dream | 5 Comments