School: Our job? Then I Quit

Teachers constantly talk about how "School is our Job" Or "It is Our Job to do School" and a bunch of other stuff like that. well, If it Is my Job, then I want to Quit! See, at a Job, you get paid, yet, you have to pay to go to school. What kind of Job makes YOU pay to go and do the WORK. It is the OTHER WAY AROUND. Your employer pays you for the work you do. Bad employer, this school. But seriously. I have to pay to go at get an education that is REQUIRED BY THE STATE. If it is REQUIRED, then we shouldn't have to pay for. I have a great Idea, Colorado: Pay for schools yourselves, like Texas. My cousins who live there never had school fees, (except if they lost something) and so they don't know what I am talking about when I say School is too expensive. Either do one of two things, people:
1) Make school a option, where you have to pay to get in, or
2) Make school required, but you don't have to pay for it!
Make the state pay for our schooling! Trust me, it will be a good investment!

Chapter One of The Keepers

Before I post this, I would like to say that, the name Melissa was used because I couldn't think of another name to use, and, besides, I think it fits. Melissa Deyoung. I would also like to say that the romance between the main character, Melissa, and the other main character, John Ashburn, is in no way reflected of of real events. This is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. Thank you

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Chapter One

                She heard the sounds of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Turning, she saw a shadow move. She decided to follow it, and found herself in a small storage room. Reaching next to her, she found the light switch, and turned it on. The man in front of her jumped in surprise, and turned towards here, a look of great fear and confusion on his face. She looked at him with equal confusion. His body was large and muscular, and his hair, long, and slightly unkempt, looking dirty, as if it hadn’t been washed in years. His clothes looked to be made of old-fashioned leather, and his boots looked to be old plate, like a knight’s. On his shoulders ha had small plate pads as well, also like a knight’s. Across his back was hung a huge sword. At his waist hung yet another, and in his hand was a spear. She turned to leave, and suddenly stopped. ‘A spear? Swords? What is this guy? A renascence fair worker?’

                She turned back and looked more closely. He still hadn’t moved, and seemed to not be breathing. The hand holding the spear was incased in a Gauntlet, covered with strange markings a Crystals. ‘Who is he?’ She thought. The main raised his hand with the spear, and she instinctively backed away. Suddenly, a flash came from his Gauntlet, and the sound of a soft explosion, and he was gone. She shook her head, and walked away. ‘I’m dreaming…Or maybe I’m just seeing things now. I think I need to take a vacation.’ She thought to herself.

“Miss. Deyoung, you haven’t left yet?” She jumped, and spun around, hand already going to the small knife she kept with her.

“Oh, No, Mr. Carden. I’m sorry. I was just leaving,”

“I told you, just call me Allen. And, what were you doing in the medieval store room, Miss. Deyoung?

“Oh! Um…I thought I saw someone moving around back here, but, I guess it was just lights moving across this guy,” She pointed to the stand holding a suit of armor.

“I see. Well, you should probably get home, Miss. Deyoung. You know I worry about how far you have to walk to your house. Maybe I should give you a ride?”

No, no Mr. Carden. You need to stay here, it is your job. Don’t worry; I am not even going home yet. I’m meeting some friends for a little fun tonight. But, thank you for the offer, Allen,” With that she left the building, rubbing her arms at the chill of the night-time air. She was just about to step away from the Museum when she heard a voice,

“Hey there. Long time no see, Melissa! How have you been?” Melissa spun around, whipping out the knife she carried, and stopped, mouth slightly open at who she saw in front of her. He had long black hair, tied back with what looked like a strip of black leather. He wore jeans and a simple, white button-up shirt, and a long, black leather trench coat. From what she could see, he had a decent muscular build, and a look of intelligence about him. His left hand was held up in a wave, and his right was concealed in a pocket in his coat. Last, she looked at his face. A long, jagged scare went from the top of his face, down over his right eye to his chin, and another crossed that one, from his right temple to just below his eye. His eyes were a brilliant green, and filled with some familiarity. Suddenly, she recognized him. It was the scar over his eye that gave him away.

“John!” she shouted, running up to him “It’s been years since I last saw you! How have you been?” She threw her arms around him, and he put his left arm around her as well. She stepped away, and saw a smile on his face.

“I’ve been well, thank you Melissa. Look at you! You certainly have done well!” He said this with a smile, looking her up and down. She playfully punched his arm,

“Oh, shut up, you,” She was glad she could hide her blushes, and then looked him up and down and said, “You’re not looking too bad yourself. You look nice. Very nice.” He rubbed his head absently, and then said,

“So, where you headed off to?”

“Oh, I am meeting with some of my friends for dinner.  I still eat at that old place every Friday night.”

“Really? You mean…?”

“Yes, the place you took me on our first date. My girlfriends and I love that place. Though, it does get annoying how they all keep pestering me to find a man,”

“You’re still single?” John asked with surprise. Melissa smiled at this, and nodded,

“Well, I never quite found anyone. Not since you left, John. Where did you go?” John’s smile dropped from his face just then, and his eyes seemed to dull, but a second later they were back.

“Oh, I just had to get away. I would have rather let you know, but, we had to go really quickly. I’m so sorry if I caused you any pain,” He said this with such sincerity, that Melissa simply shrugged.

                “I figured it must have been something important if you couldn’t talk to me. But, You know that I work in a Museum, what do you do?” He laughed and said,

                “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Besides, it’s classified,” She shook her head and turned to walk away. She was going to be late.

                “Wait!” He shouted. She stopped, and looked at him. He stepped up to her and held his arm out for her.

                “Shall I walk you to dinner?” She smiled, and took his harm happily, leaning her head on his shoulder, like she had done those many years ago.

                Their walk took them to an old building, its name long forgotten, because its sign had been worn off, and everyone around here just called it The Diner. John opened the door, and let Melissa in, and followed after her. She turned to him, and he nodded to her, and began to turn to leave. She grabbed his arm, and looked him in the eye,

                “Hey, would you like to join us for dinner, John? We always have one extra seat, just in case,” He smiled and nodded, following her to a table with a group of women and men, and sat next to her. She said hello to everyone, and said to them,

                “Everyone, I would like you to meet John Ashburn, an old friend of mine,” She must have been smiling a little too much, because one of the girls said,

                “He must have been more than a friend!” Everyone laughed, and John just looked uncomfortable. She mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to him, and sat down. One of the men at the table, the husband of the woman who had just spoken, asked,

                “So, John. How long have you known Melissa?” John, barely glanced up from the menu when he answered,

                “Since we were born. We were always together during school, and our families counted us each as another member.” The other man nodded, and held out his hand to him.

                “I’m Bill. Nice to meet you. This is my wife, Jenny” She nodded, and smiled at him. John set the menu down and extended his left arm. Melissa noted that he kept his right hand hidden in a pocket still. When the waitress came, she seemed to be distracted by John, who smiled pleasantly at her, and ordered a steak, medium rare, potatoes, asparagus, and a salad. Everyone stared at him, and Bill said,

                “Got yourself an appetite, eh, John?” Everyone laughed at this, including John who said,

                “Well, you would too, when you just got here! I haven’t even found a hotel yet,” Their smiles all disappeared, and John looked around curiously.

                “There have been no planes here for years. None have arrived today, either. How did you get here?” John smiled and said,

                “I took the train of course!”

                “The nearest train station is twenty miles away. Do you have a car?”

                “Nope. I walked. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

                “Your telling us that you walked across a twenty mile long dead zone? The hottest place you will find in this area, wearing that, with no baggage?” John dropped his smile, and answered in a low voice,

                “Listen. I am tired, I am hungry, and just got back to the town I was born and raised in. Do I not have baggage? Of course I do, and a friend of mine is taking care of it right now. I wanted to visit with Melissa before I moved on to a hotel, and left in the morning. So, I do not appreciate your distrust of me, Bill.” Everyone lowered their eyes, and the waitress came by with the food. John’s smile returned and the conversations at the table continued as normal. Melissa watched John as he picked up his knife, and noticed that his right hand had a gauntlet very similar to the other man’s.  She asked him,

                “So, where did you get that Gauntlet? And why are you wearing it?” John glanced at it, then swallowed, and answered,

                “Oh, just a gift. And, I wear it as a constant reminder of some things, which I would prefer not to talk about.” When diner was finished, and they had said goodbye, John and Melissa walked out of The Diner, and John turned to leave.

                “John?” Melissa called

                “Yes, Melissa?”

                “If…Um, well…If you need a place to stay, um, you could stay with me…” John smiled and said,

                “Sure, Melissa. Thank you” He walked over to her, glanced at where they were, and then stopped. His right hand was again in his picket, and he was lifting his left one slightly. He said in a calm voice,

                “What time is it?” Melissa glanced at her watch, and said,

                “It eleven oh four. Why?” She soon got her answer, as John shouted,

                “Get down!” And grabbed her, and pulled her down, as a gun-shot was heard, and the glass above them shattered. John rolled to his feet, as people screamed, and some called nine-one-one. Reaching into his trench coat, he pulled out a strange looking pistol, and aimed at the man who had shot at them. They stood their like that for a long time, until the cops had arrived. They started for both John and the other man, until the crown explained what happened. John showed a slip of paper to them, and turned away, picking Melissa up.

                “Sorry about that, Melissa. I just didn’t want you to get hurt,” She shook her head. It sounded to her that he had known it was going to happen. She asked him,

                “How did you do that? How did you know someone was going to shoot at me? Or was it at you? What’s going on?” Her voice was shaking with fear. John hailed a taxi, and  said,

                “I’ll explain it all when we get to your house. You’re going to have to trust me,” The taxi stopped, and the door opened, and out stepped…..

                The man she had seen earlier. He still had the sword at his waist and the Gauntlet on his hand. He leaned over to John, and said,

                “Ke tal na?” The last thing she heard or saw was John answering,

                “Yes. History has just changed,” Melissa then passed out thinking ‘What is going on?’

My Mythology

For the past many years (five, in fact....Not long, I know, but, still, I'm only a Teenager...) I have had a Fascination with Mythologies, Fantasies. My favorites are Werewolves, and I will attempt to explain why. To me, a Werewolf is just....the perfect creature. I love Wolves in real life, so, it was only natural for me to fall in love with the Mythical Werewolf. Whats not to like? According to the Mythologies i have read, a Werewolf can change form from man to werewolf at anytime he wishes, however, on Full Moons, it is an uncontrollable thing. They are covered in fur, have fangs AND claws. They have great speed and strength, as well as having enhanced smell and hearing. Silver stuns them, and burns them, and kills them if shot through the heart (which, would kill anything, actually....) The only other way to kill them is to remove the heart and burn it along with the head, or just the head or heart, because of the regenerative abilities. A werewolf could beat a vampire ANY day, given all the weaknesses vampires have: Garlic. Holy Water. The Sun. A wooden stake. A crucifix. Vampires are just too weak, whereas a Werewolf can go about at ANY time, and can only be killed in two ways! Come on! Whats not awesome about that! Anyways, that is my reasoning. (And, yes, I know not all legends are like that, but, still...)

A prologue of sorts....an Idea

Belac stepped over the fallen statue, glancing to his side. The city beyond was on fire, as it had been for years. A breeze blew past, carrying whispers of days long past, and causing the cloak around his right arm to flutter. His single eye glanced back at the building he was walking towards, while subconsciously rubbing the bandaging over the other. Stopping in front of what used to be the door, he knelled by it, running his left arm through the dirt, gritting his teeth. I may never march in the infantry.... He allowed tears to roll down his face, making the bandaging wet. ...Ride in the Calvary, shoot the artillery..... His right arm hung uselessly by his side, and twitched slightly, paining him. I may never fly over the enemy, but I'm in the Lords army!... The song stuck in his head, haunting him. I'm in the Lords army! I may never.... If only he had been faster, if only he had been...been stronger, then maybe, maybe they would have made it. Looking up, he looked painfully at the grave markers, torn apart now after ten years of battles and corrosion. The children, the families, all of the members of this church...gone in an instant, because of a Mistake HE had been a part of.
There was a slight crackle in the wind near him, and he dove to the side as a pile of stone was exploded. Reaching with his left hand, he drew his rifle, and took aim. With his right arm still useless, he had only two shots for this, but Redeemer had never failed him...never missed, not even....
He would need a lot more than two shots for this. Cursing his luck, or his foolishness, he fired at the first Demon in the sky, taking it down. He cocked the lever. Fired again, and another down. He dropped the rifle, and drew his revolver. Six shots. Six down. There were still twenty Demons in the sky. Sighing, he reached back and drew the sword from his back, and took his stance, vaguely being aware of shots in the distance, growing closer. A demon charged, and was split down the middle, another was decapitated, and the next a hole in its center. Sweat beaded on Belac's face, and his right arm began to twitch even more wildly. A High-Demon appeared, and smiled at him. Closing his eye, Belac raised his right arm slowly, and grasped the handle of his most deadly weapon, penitence. Lifting the rifle, he aimed it at the Demon, who smiled more.
"You will burn in the very flames that made you. Begone from this world!" Belac yelled as he pulled the trigger, releasing a blast powerful enough to knock him back a couple of feet, while taking out the remainder of the Demons, as well as the High. Putting it away, he turned to face the Men who had arrived, and hung his head, to hid his face from their leader, who he knew well. He remembered the times before.....

Simple Perspectives: To Each Their Own

All my friends constantly ask me one of two questions all the time.
   "Hey, Dude, do you think this chick (girl) is hot?"
    "Dude, what do you think of "(Insert band/song/actor/movie name here)"?"
Well, I usually try to avoid these kinds of things. I don't like having to answer these, because, when I do, there are people who insult me, or make fun of me. Not my friends, but the people who are around. One time, my friend asked if I thought the girl he liked was Hot....Well, my answer was kind of a hard one. Today, a lot of people use Hot as the same thing as attractive, or as a term for something else.... I mean, she was a very attractive person, physically, but I had no idea how she was mentally, or personality wise. Or even spiritually. Being a Christian, these are things I TRY to look at more than physical beauty. Was she Hot? To me, no. Was she attractive? Physically, yes, I'll admit it. But I didn't know her, so, I gave my usual answer:
    "Hey, to each his own, man."
Big mistake. He mistook me for saying that i thought she was ugly or something. That wasn't true. So, over the course of an hour or so, I explained to him my Philosophy. To Each Their Own. This means, to me, that everyone has what they find attractive. Every has their own likes and dislikes, their own way of life, and, as Christians, their own unique way of serving God. To me, she wasn't Hot, to him, she was. To me, there are girls I find Very attractive, that others don't. Sometimes, I think we all need to just sit back, and examine how we are treating each other. I mean, not all of us are going to have the same view points. Not all of us are going to be Football stars, or Musicians or Authors. Not all of us are going to make Loads of money, and not all of us are going to serve God in the same way. Take me for example: I have next to no skill in speaking to a crowd, I am really bad with people I don't know, and I get easily mixed up with what I am saying. My way of serving God? I try to live they way I am supposed to, and show others this. I love to write (obviously, from the length of this post) so, I can always Write for Him. This is MY way of serving. Others serve by Teaching, and some by Preaching, and others by One-on-One talks. That's not me, so, please don't try to force it on me.

To Each His Own.

I may disagree with some things, or some views, but that doesn't mean I will disrespect you for it. I respect your Ideas, and while I may try to change your views, if you do not wish to, Hey, Who am I to change that?

A Prologue I have for my Book I am working on:

King Sarmond let out a relieved sigh as he saw a flash of lightning, and heard the thunder. Glancing to the sky, he saw the clouds moving in, with rain following. He glance once more at the capital, Thelonosh, where is son, Prince Kerthain, was still sound asleep. He hoped his son would be able to forgive him. The battle today was suicide, to keep the Orcs, from discovering the single remaining city of the kingdom of Thel’landi. Sighing once more, Sarmond ordered the men to march. ‘200 men on foot’ he thought to himself, ‘50 of them archers. 25 horsemen, and a couple of siege weapons. We are outnumbered 50 to one. We all know it, and yet, I see no fear in their eyes.’ Looking forward, Sarmond saw the canyon. Turning to his men, he ordered them into positions; 20 archers on the tops of both canyon walls, and 10 behind the rest of the soldiers. Sarmond thought about their strategy. The standard 450 city garrison was split between two points. The canyon led to the western cities faster, and that was where the Orcs were last seen. It was assumed they would attack from there, however, defensively, it was the best place. No attacker could get a large force through when only a limited amount could leave at a time. So, they had another force along the main road, to ensure they fought the Orcs before they got to the city. Checking with the other force was easy enough, as they could communicate telepathically. However, it causes whoever was communicating to be distracted from the fighting.  As the men moved to positions, Sarmond himself contacted the Mage with the other group. There was no response.  Concerned, Sarmond tried harder. When he finally contacted the man, he sensed panic. ‘These guys are monsters! How can anything that big move so fast?!’ The communication was ended then, and Sarmond ordered the mage with him to scan the Canyon for life. There was nothing. Ordering a halt to activities, he told the men the Orcs attacked the Main Road already, and they were going to go help them. The men groaned, and began the march, as fast as they could to the road. Stopping just short of the Road, they saw the battle. Humans with swords and shields and spears and bows and arrows and hammers and many other weapons, were fighting eight foot tall giants, with dark skin, and large arms. These giants wielded huge battle axes and small bits of armor, and would not fall, even if they were stabbed. These were the Orcs. Sarmond ordered them to charge, and charge they did. Decapitating four Orcs, Sarmond let out a battle howl. Suddenly, a gush of blood hit him from the side. Turning, he saw a huge, nine foot tall beast, skin a black as he had never seen, marked with bone-white tattoos, and a skull design on his face, held his right-hand man in each hand. One half in each hand. Howling, Sarmond slashed at the creature’s arm. His sword hit at the lower arm with a wet cutting sound, followed by a quick thunk as it hit the bone. It stopped. Sarmond tried to pull the blade out, but he could not. Letting go of it, he grabbed a sword by his feet, and, spinning around, backed away from the Orc, who dropped the two halves of Sarmonds right-hand man. Then, grabbing the sword, the Orc yanked it out, and threw it at Sarmond as one might through a dagger. Deflecting it jarred Sarmond, who then ran forward and stabbed the Orc in the gut, who then spat out blood. However, this did not stop the Orc, as he reached down and threw Sarmond away, and lifted a battle axe of such huge proportions it could cleave pure stone in two. Gulping, Sarmond backed away, and felt his a large being against his back, turning, he saw another Orc, flinching from what he thought would be the end, he saw the Orc topple, a white-wood arrow imbedded in his skull. Looking around, he saw dust billowing in the valley approaching, with his son sitting atop a mighty charger, leading a band of militia from the city to their aid. Sarmond then felt something ice cold against his arm, and then could no longer feel it. Looking, he saw his arm falling to the ground, with a large battle axe lifting for another blow. Prince Kerthain, however, was able to intervene at the right time, decapitating the nine foot beast. Helping his Father up, Kerthain watched the militia drive the Orcs away, and smiled at his father.

                “Next time, don’t allow yourself to be distracted. And, before you ask, I do forgive you,” Sarmond gulped in air as much as he could, and felt his body going numb. Glancing at his son’s eyes, he saw that his son knew that his father was dieing, and was trying to allow him to peacefully pass.

                “My boy, you….you will be a much better King than I, or any of our forefathers. I am sure of that, and that alone, gives me the peace to pass into the Next Life willingly. You ARE the King now. Lead our people. Do not let them fall, and re-build this kingdom of ours,” Sarmond drew his last breath, smiling, as his son’s hair fell to reveal pointed ears.

                The next generations passed by with the same King, Kerthain, who was of Half-Elven blood, and thus, immortal by the standards of the Elves. He ruled for 600 years before taking an Elven wife, who gave birth to their son, Prince Thelenore, who was now more elf than man, but had the appearance of man. It was decided, after this, that Elves would not be allowed to be with Humans in marriage, and thus no more men would be Immortal, save for the Kings, though it would be kept a secret from everyone, including the Kings, until they were ready. So as the Kingship passed from Kerthain, who lost his leg in a raid from the Orcs, to Thelenore, and Thelenore ruled for 800 years before taking his wife, many things occurred. When his wife gave birth to their son, Veron, a blonde headed boy of rough characteristics, they thought that the Bloodline had ended. Then, however, his wife, in illness, gave birth to Ookami, a black-headed lad who was beautiful as well as unnaturally handsome, and eyes were a silvery green, they knew that the Bloodline would continue, but not in the line of Kings….