Saturday, April 29, 2017
Mother and son were standing in some fairly faint moonlight, before the building they knew his father had entered, and - almost certainly - not left. They both had intended to find what his spirit could say about his killers. But now the son seemed to have changed his mind.
“It sucks!” he told his mother. “There's no point in entering that building!”
She looked at him in disappointment. “Don't you get it?! If your papa's in there, we can perhaps find out about what happened!”
“I don't believe daddy's going to be alive, mama! I don't want to go in there and risk my own skin for the sake of finding out!”
She stood there and wondered, about herself, how she could feel so sure about it; but, even so, she somehow felt that she in her authority as a mother should instruct her son to go in there! “Even though there's at least a ghost after your dear old dad,” she reproached him, “you don't feel like caring to see to it that he can see to it that you and I learn what there was about these people, and how come they killed him?!”
“I'm sorry mama, but I don't feel that I can see to it that he can see to it that we learn from that he even might have a ghost in there! I can't do in there and risk that they discover it! And whether or not he has a ghost there is irrelevant for what they will do to me if they discover it!”
“Sorry sonny! But you and I have to go there! And we shall go in there now!” With that she lifted him to her chest and held him there, comforting him, the way a mother can comfort her son.
“I guess I can come along together with you, then, but we should not stay in for too long I think!”
“I'll see to it that your daddy speaks to me as soon as there's a possibility of tracing his spirit among the evil spirits in there, and insinuations from them! We shall, you and I, see to it that he speaks to us! If I can't, then you can! That's how it'll be!!”
“I hope so mom!” he said, almost sobbing, as she began to walk towards the building with him.
At the door she put her son down, carefully, instructing him to take it easy and not to run away, now that he was so close to the goal of seeing his father's spirit. He obeyed, and watched her use her hair pin to pick the lock. She was cunning enough to unlock it in about five minutes. Then, as she opened the door he felt a chill from inside. She held his hand and made him feel very ensured that she would manage to get the two of them out of there after they had contacted father's spirit and learnt from it.
Walking hand in hand, the two of them entered a living room, with a number of old framed paintings on its walls. Looking at one of them, the son said: “Here he is! They can spy on us unless we use that painting as protection!”
Boggled by his intuition, she smiled a bit happily, and then began to intuitively suggest for the ghost to appear within or at least close to the picture. After about two minutes, a ghost did appear in front of them. He said to them that they had to hurry, because he was going soon to be manipulated into not being able to know what was real and what wasn't. He said that even though he was protected by the picture, the murderers' intimidations against him worked strongly enough against his spirit so he would be unable to talk after about five minutes - or even less, he told them.
Whispering, they interrogated him about the killers, what they were after and what whereabouts they were using. He answered and she noted it in a tablet she had brought along for the purpose. After only about four minutes he began to fade away, and forty seconds later it was impossible to reach him.
The mother had fairly much information now, however. But she was missing one thing that was very important. That was where they were going to be when they wanted to strike against her, her son and the few others they had with them in this. Even so, she was rather satisfied with what they had achieved this evening.
While leaving the building her son asked: “Is daddy going to be gone from us forever after this?” He seemed pitiful while asking it.
“I hope not!” his mother answered, and even she felt a bit paltry at the thought of this perhaps being so. She thought for a while, then she added: “I suppose we can still have the intuition about him that we need, especially after this meeting with him!” Her son seemed a bit comforted by these words.
Upon this, they walked silently towards the gates when they heard a car approaching. In this, they knew that their intuition had been stronger than they thought it would be. In order not to be seen - at least not immediately - they hid in some bushes in the yard, away from the driveway, where a van entered soon after they were able to dive into the bushes.
The van did not enter the garage, but was parked right before it. Three people stepped out of it, two men and one woman. The woman had some quite garish make-up on, which disturbed the two who were hiding in the bushes from apprehending the ghost even by what they had of intuition about the father. Looking at each other, though, the two of them chose not to rule out that this change was only temporary.
“I'll watch them, sonny!” the mother whispered. “Meanwhile, won't you try to dig a hole below that fence, or something?!”
“Okay!” he said, and picked up a stick for doing it.
While he began digging, his mother watched their enemies. There were now four people outside the van, two men and two women. She kept watching, and saw one of the men open the van's back door, and she saw and heard the woman who had left the van last whistle.
Out from the van jumped three big dogs. They were obviously dangerous for the two in the bushes. Thereby, the mother cocked her gun as silently as she could. Meanwhile, her son was getting somewhere with digging a hole below the fence. “I can almost exit through it!” he whispered gladly to his mother, who still looked troubled though. “Good!” she answered. “When you can, go to the outside, and if it's not too frightening for you, please stay there and dig so that even I can exit there!” As she spoke her boy managed to move a rock so that he probably could leave right away, which he tried, and managed to crawl outside. But, meanwhile the dogs were running towards the bushes. The son saw his mother shoot two of them; one died the other was injured. The third dog stood and hesitated. It was some twelve yards from her, and, as it was dark, she would probably miss it. The boy kept on digging.
After a while, the mother had moved closer to the hole that her son was digging in. She was keen on still keeping an eye on the dog, which kept standing in the same place, though. But the people of the van were approaching, and they shone with flashlights towards the bushes. Two of those flashlights rested at the dogs for a while, and the people began mumbling things to each other about it. A third flashlight almost revealed where the mother was, but she was able to duck below a think enough foliage. After this she two began digging.
This she did for thirteen seconds her son warned her: “The third dog is charging!” She picked up her gun and was able to shoot it. But now the people too were approaching her, and the one closest to her fired her gun. It was not the woman with the garish make-up, but a someone with a style that could make her out as an owl, or something. Somehow she was the first one to approach the intruder. Two men who followed close behind seemed to be her backup. The woman with the make-up was not to be seen.
The mother gave her son her tablet, and asked him to run away and go with it to his uncle, who lived fairly close to this place. Her son obeyed, and the mother watched him leave on fairly quick feet. She turned around and saw, fairly near her now, a man closing in. She aimed her gone and shot him. This time the woman whose appearance was like an owl seemed to hear it. She was only eight yard or so away, and soon after fired her gun towards the mother, who was injured in the right shoulder. She, however, did not quite give up, but put her gun in the left hand, and shot back. But she missed, and tried again. This time she hit her, partly because she was now as close as five yards from her.
But the owl-like woman seemed still intent on hurting her. She fired her gun again. This time she hit her leg. And the other man was approaching as well. He fired, and his bullet hit the intruder in the head.
Meanwhile, the now dead woman's son was approaching his uncle's home. After a while he knocked on his door. But no one opened for about three minutes.
The boy began to sob. But a while after that, his uncle came to him through his yard, and smiled. “Oh!” he burst out with relief. “It's only you!” He looked happy, and soon after he opened his from door from outside.
Letting his nephew in, he asked him what he was about. The boy looked at him and said:”This!” and handed him his mothers writing pad. After the uncle had closed his door behind them, the boy explained: “It's my mother's notes from my father's ghost's words.”
The uncle looked through them. “Oh! They have pretended he should be held responsible for that mistakes can be made about which kinds of hardships might come about!”
“Yeah! He did say that!”
The uncle returned to the notes, and soon exclaimed: “Oh my! They also charge him for being into seeming to be clever at atoning against the mistakes that he allegedly is responsible for!”
“That's right! ... But, do you know what?! I think that mama gone to right now! I think she died while trying to escape through the small hole beneath their fence that I crawled through!”
“They have a hole beneath their fence you say?! And that it's large enough for a boy like you to just crawl through?!”
The boy sighed. “No, not that way! I mean I dug that hole for myself and escaped. She who is much larger, could not escape through it! She and I continued digging for a while, but then the people and their dogs found us, so she asked me to run away, and also to hand you her notes! ... But, uncle! I think she's died! ... Now I have no parent left in life, and the even though their ghosts perhaps can speak I will not be able to, I think, go to where they are, in their garden, her, and him even inside their house!”
His uncle looked thoughtful. “I'm sorry about all this, and perhaps I can arrange for you to be taken care of by some good enough substitute parents. As for myself I don't think I can take teh risk of keeping you here, as they might find out!” Then he went back to the notes.
After three or for more minutes, he seemed to have finished with them. But he sat still and looked very thoughtful and serious, for about two more minutes. Upon that, he said: “Okay, boy! I think I can arrange for you to stay with my cousin and her husband. They are interested in those who know something about how to interpret ghosts! And, after all, you did follow along there for the sake of helping your mother out with it, is that not so?!”
The boy looked a bit happy. “Yeah. She really felt I had to be there too!”
“Good, boy! Then I'll send you there! We'll just have to see to it that those people don't know where you're going! As for me, I'll stay here! Because, this is my home, and I know well enough how to defend myself in it!”
After a few days, the boy was transported to his uncle's (and mother's) cousin. After some more weeks, there was a message from the uncle saying that he had surveyed their enemies. Now they needed, though, to also bridge some gaps between themselves and potential allies against them. And a few years upon this, that was done. Four months later, the people seemed to have been defeated. After one more month, teh boy was able to go safely into the yard and house where he could speak to his parents again.
Thursday, April 27, 2017
Saturday, April 22, 2017
“Are you sure you really want that?!” he interrogated.
“Yes, I'm quite certain! Because they all insinuate for me that I am trying to get their sex appeal for it!”
“I assure you that they all might be after simply finding it in you that you admit to what your real preferences are!”
“No, I can't believe that would be what they aught to expect from me!”
“Then what do you think you are?! I, for one, could love them for actually giving me that kind of attention! Now isn't that what they actually should just seem to pretend they want all that much just because a guy like you seems to be into pretending to be a masculine kind of fellow!”
The other guy seemed to feel intimidated. A few seconds he just sat there and seemed to reflect over how he should judge the situation and the man he was talking to. Then he looked away, and rose from his chair and said: “There's something that you don't get about those girls in that they are as clever as you are at insinuating that they are able to stand for not being too much into sex to be real people!”
The other guy looked up. Looking a bit startled he stared at the guy who had just risen. There was a trace hatred in his eyes when he responded: “So! You think you can actually find yourself to be better than me - and even than some of those girls you've been talking about that you would like to - see to it that you can actually be with them more than just this causally?!”
“Conrad! I assure you they aren't what you make them out to be! But then again, neither are you! As a matter of fact neither they nor you have any confidence in caring to be smart at knowing what they or you are actually about!”
Conrad gave a slight smug giggle, which he quenched with slight bitterness. “Who do you think you are?! ... As I said!”
“I don't know who I am! But I do know that I'm not what you seem to be!”
The other guy rose threateningly. He seemed to be into a notion of having to fight over this. “Really?! Then how come you're so low as to feel that they are lower than one would expect when one is just a horny guy looking for some kind of appreciation!?”
The fellow he talked to peered at him in a solid enough manner not to seem quite frightened. He sighed. “Well, you're the one low enough to try to be into a fight right now!”
The other guy seemed a little bit nonplussed, hesitated for a moment and then sat down again. “Alright, I won't try to fight you over it - at least not right now.”
Thoughtfully the other fellow said: “I know know there's a possibility they all are hornier than they admit, because I notice, every now and again, that they flirt with me just to make me horny, and that is without me trying to get them to do it for me! ... That is they sometimes do it too eagerly for me to feel they don't feel desperate after a man's appreciation!”
“Yeah! Me too! So what's the big deal about that?! So what if they're horny enough to really want your, or any other guy's, appreciation?! What if they're just horny just in order to present themselves as real reliable creatures of the kind we know of as the sexy ones, and then try to charm you into admitting that they are as beautiful as the aspire to be?”
“[Sigh] I don't see it in them to actually try to be horny just for the sake of seeing much else in us but the types of simply horny men that they could use as instruments for their own lusts. It's not that they don't feel a lot better about themselves when they get into a relationship that is sexual that you think, is it?! I mean what then are you about with Tina and Maria when they obviously seem to be horny enough for screwing you for the sake only of sexual pleasure!? Cause, I mean: You even bragged about that!”
“So what?! They're just horny so that we can feel all the pleasure we want! And if they're not horny for you as well, then that'd be your problem for it! It's you, not they, who are actually too pathetic to have those kinds of sexual behaviors about you! It's you, not they, who are actually about making sexual behaviors not seem good enough for an occasion of man-to-woman relationships!”
“Then how come you and the others continue fighting about who wants who, and not like I try to settle for that it's just immature to keep on fighting about it?!” With that he ended the discussion and left the other guy.
Thursday, April 20, 2017
She looked at him. Scornfully she saw that he didn't seem to fall for the charm she had intended for him. But the scorn was intended for herself as well as for him; therefore she didn't feel guilty at all for feeling it. But to her surprise, he seemed to mind.
He looked at her spitted resolutely. The spit landed on the ground on front of his feet, and was intended to land there. She felt this proved that he wasn't too obnoxious to be viewed as provocative only; i.e. he probably wouldn't try to be dangerous to her if she didn't do anything to him. But she felt like not talking to him. Because he still did seem to obnoxious to be looking at as a friend - or even a potential one, because he didn't seem to mind that the spit had landed right in front of him as if it was intended to insult her about not being smart enough at charming him.
He, on his part, was feeling that she had been insulting him in the first place, not that he'd been looking for a charming or whatever or so person in her. It seemed obnoxious for him that she had seemed scornful against that she seemed lousy at caring for his care to seem safe enough to assume as moral enough for being into not caring very much if she charmed him or not. It seemed even worse for him that she didn't seem to feel even one bit guilty about it.
But she felt that he had no right to have that opinion about her. She was a girl who was supposed to be charming and cute so that those who appreciated that in a woman would be able to see that in her. Therefore she laughed scornfully once more, and saw in him a pending guy who didn't care to fancy her being as worth his appreciation as scores of others could. She thereby felt free from guilt and free from remorse about it. She felt that she had all the appreciation she needed and that he was just a more or less sillily frank and fairly weird guy. Thereby she appreciated her own inconsistency about her notions of coherency as though they were of honest and good moral. But he noticed this and developed a slow growing hatred for her ways about it.
Even though he had run into some other girls who had behave similarly, he didn't feel broken enough to ever give up on the notion of honesty being something else than what these kinds of girls could appreciate it as. It seemed to him that she sorted out moral as if it was her own, from the different types of facts and notions about life that she had to care about on her way into adulthood. She seemed to him to be appreciative of the notion of truth as something to be bargained for, not as something to view as real notion of what is real. The fact that she and a few other young women seemed totally sure of themselves about being seemingly moral forever for being that kind of fake seemed scary for him. He even felt shattered when she looked at him that way, looking as if she felt totally innocent after first scorning not only him, but also truth and what truth is about.
He thereby watched her and her friends as they left with an awe about the way they appreciated themselves. She, meanwhile, felt that she had just left behind a fellow who was unusually corny and unappreciative of the sense she had of herself as good enough for anyone to appreciate - not excluding the boys or men she might want to be appreciated by. She thereby felt she needed to talk to one her close friends about how to deal with this fellow.
The two of them talked later that night and decided to seem to be subjects of his scorn for no reason. This, she felt though, was not enough. They need to, she told her friend, seem to be appreciative of even his notion of how he views himself. They should have to, she felt, seemingly be into caring also for those who were to be viewed as outsiders - at least from their own point of view. Thereby, people would appreciate the two of them as both cute and as caring as they are cute!
“I guess we can take that kind of stands,” her friend agreed. “But I think we should also show them that he is absolutely not an interesting guy for us! Because we should not seem to be into those men who fancy us young girls to be what they should be dealing with. Instead, they should view us as better than that they could ever reach us - nor actually scorn us, for that matter!”
“Okay! ... To start with, then we could say to our parents that we've run into a guy who was superficial enough not to admit that what we are is what he shouldn't be minding as if there was any reason for him to care to tell us what we are to be seen as. Because there seems to be a notion in him of actually having it he is the one to be a fellow to appreciate.”
So they did.
Four months later, the two girls were at a disco and one of them spotted what seemed to be that same fellow. They noticed that the son of a friend of their parents was with him. This made them curious.
Thereby they felt like watching them now and again for the rest of the evening. Doing so they got he impression of that the guy who was a friend of their families was attempting to reveal the fellow as immature, and thereby shouldn't be there. This they found to be worthwhile, as they also could appreciate the notion of this guy being the same as the one they had complained to their parents about. But then, to their disappointment, they observed him say something to their friend-of-the-family guy, who, seemingly a bit unsure of himself, withdrew for a while.
When he came back, he said something back to the other one, which seemed to make him feel both indignant and insulted. But he reacted by insulting him back, it seemed, and soon the two of them were very hostile towards each other. After a few minutes of quarreling the two of them decided, it seemed, to continue it somewhere else. The two girls saw them leave the disco, each of them, seemingly, bringing a friend with him.
They decided to follow the four of them by stealth, which they did, and that lead them to a park, where a fight broke out between the two whom they had been observing. It went on for perhaps four minutes before the guy who's parents knew their parents was injured severely enough to no longer stand a chance. When that happened the two fellows who had followed along as friends discussed something for a while.
After a few minutes the two of them decided, or so it seemed, that the guy whom the girls had been troubled by had won. They thereby both pointed at him with respect and then the three of them left the girls' parents' friends' son bleeding and despised. This the two girls found to be scary.
They waited for about five minutes, then they also left, and began walking towards the house of one of them. On their way there, the other one said: “Wow, he didn't seem able even to reach his phone and call the cops or something! I wonder if we should be telling your parents about how we could have but didn't dare to be helping him - or else what else we should say!”
“Me too! I wonder what we are to be about now as we don't have a notion of what is going to happen to that fellow who after all helped us make that insultive guy seem like a bad person!” She shivered. “Wonders how he will survive, and if we've actually killed him by not staying there and saving his life!”
“I think we've better see to it that our parents get there as quick as possible!” Neither she nor her friend reflected much over calling an ambulance, because the two of them knew that the four guys had been into something that was sort of tradition not to tell the authorities about!
When they had finished their walk, they entered the house of the one of them who had felt insulted in the first place, As they spoke to their parents, they could not express what they found themselves to seem to appreciate about the guys who had been escorts and judges of the two fighters. They somehow felt that they needed to express that, but that they couldn't, because it was a secret notion of - so to speak - what went wrong in a man, that the two of them were about. Instead, the conversation emerged in describing the situation that the two of them had been stuck there, and couldn't help the fellow, which was partly because of their appreciation of those who had - by fair notions of what is correct for such a fight - deemed the guy they could have helped as a fellow to be left behind. Thereby, the two of them eventually decided to never speak again to anyone about how to resurrect a man who has lost a fight!
Two months later, the two parents (of one of them) whom they had talked to said to them that they are to be sweet and good for the sake of not seeming to be involved in that the two guys fought, nor that they had been insulting each other. Instead of explaining for them why this was important, they told the girls not to even think about what had happened. And in case either of them ever just happened to think about it anyway, she should say to herself that it was just imagination!
Their daughter looked at them and asked: “What shall I say to those who want to know why we had it in us to seem satisfied by that we had been defended by a friend of the family?”
Her father looked at her. “Is there anything they could happen to say to you that wouldn't be seen as that they make something of a notion that is just a fantasy?!”
She looked thoughtful for a while. “I guess not,” she answered, “but I can't be quite sure about that.
Now her mother was the one to ask: “I guess you can't have it they don't feel like being better at understanding how to be - even potential - friends - of you or anyone else around here, that that they might just continue feeling that it's real, even when you say it isn't?!”
“No, I guess they shouldn't be too stubborn for me to handle in a way that doesn't make me think about that stuff as a reality!” she said, and then hid that notion deeply inside of her.
Her mother looked at her and inquired: “Are you sure you never will be too unreliable to stay away from ever seeming to be into anything of what they could view as a real kind of vanity?”
“No, I'm not totally sure about that, mama!”
“Then I'll have to keep you away from those people who might find out from you otherwise!”
“And who are they?”
“It's the people I've been talking to down in the village. They aren't kids like you, and I don't think there are any kids who will ever become that nosy!”
“So I have to stay away from adults from now on?! Mom, I'm thirteen, and I'm soon into feeling like an adult myself! So how can I avoid even seeing those people that I soon will pertain to?!”
“It's not the young adults that you shouldn't pertain to, just some of the older ones, and I'll tell you eventually exactly which of the older ones that will be!”
“Oh! Good! Then I think I can manage!”
“Good, then!” her mother said.
“Good!” her father also said.
“From now now on you will not seem to be inept for excuses of the kind that are called for by those who forge that they comprehend, the right way, what there is to a society and what we all should appreciate from one another! That is you should not be wrong for God to take as a defence for His absoluteness about Jesus and what He stands for about us and our Christian cares! From now on you will be good Christians, and pray every day before you go to bed! Otherwise those things of the past might come and haunt you!”
She looked at her father. “Okay, dad! I'll become a good Christian from now on!” she said and realized that she would have to stick to this decision for the rest of her life.
Her friend, who had been silent for a long time now asked: “How come there isn't any certainties about what there is in the afterlife, so that one can feel very sure that one isn't doing something that will turn out to be unfruitful?!”
“I suppose,” the father objected, “you don't care to have it that Christ i sour saviour and that it will be that way no matter what we think or might say about it!”
The mother looked at them and added: “You must see to it that you'll be forever loyal with Christ, and that He'll be there for you to give you the safety you need!”
The two girls looked at each other. “I want to see to it that Christ will be there for all of us,” the one who wasn't a daughter of the family answered. “But I also want to see Him as the savior whom we all can trust, and I thereby want to be sure that he will give us an afterlife that will be okay!”
“I can,” the mother answered, “see it in you, to be able to take it that Jesus isn't the one to be telling everybody, just the one to be caring for everyone! Remember it is Satan who can otherwise be the ne to also talk to you as though there was a safe assumption!” She looked at her daughters friend and seemed to be sure of herself.
The girl swallowed. “Okay. I guess I can go for it that way, then. So where do I begin trying to conceive myself as a subject of Christ rather than the type of girl who never would feel there was any safety in what isn't said!?”
The mother looked at her. “Don't pretend that you don't need to believe in order to stay with Jesus!”
The two girls looked at each other again. “Then how come I and your daughter don't have it in Jesus to say to God that we need to be saved in a way so that we really can appreciate ourselves as safely His?! It's we, isn't it, who will have to appreciate God, and what if he doesn't have to appreciate us back?!”
Both of her friend's parents looked a bit startled over this query. She saw this and continued: Thereby I'll be platonically smart at having Jesus there, and I'll have the notion of myself as one with Him and God forever, but I won't be safe enough against the devil unless there can be a sureness that he cannot reach me even by taking my life!”
“It will be your decision to understand God the way that you feel you should have to!” the father said. “From now on you will have to speak to your own parents about it! We have had enough of this now! It is in your family, not ours, that there's a need to sort out what God wants from you!” His wife seemed to agree with him.