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Thursday, August 25, 2016

Murphy's Law

August 22, 2016

Murphy’s Law never gives up/ The truth about Onyx

Murphy’s law- when things can go wrong they will. In my life- Murphy ’s Law- rules it all, my love life, my career, my home life, my writing goals, everything. Maybe the word was invented for me although the term has been around way before I was born in 1975. Some people experience this from time to time and can easily sum it up as a little bad luck, but for some people like myself, Murphy’s Law is a way of life. I have come to never hope for the best, and never try to attract good luck in my life because this is a waste of time; time which can be spent planning how to fix what’s already gone wrong.

I have come to refer to this Murphy’s law phenomenon as having my own little black cloud, a permanent black cloud who I have named Onyx. Onyx is indeed my personal tormentor the one who enforces Murphy’s Law upon my life. In fact that is its only purpose in its creation, to torment me by taking away all my good fortune and keeping happiness at bay.  This has been the struggle of my life. I feel that this thing has been with me since my birth. In my mind I can picture an image of myself sucking on a binky and having an invisible hand pull it out my mouth, enter Onyx into my life. I can go on for days on my teen years torment, maybe some other time. What is sad is that I am now forty and this little black cloud that could, and does, has not abandoned me yet. What is it about me that makes me so appealing? Rabbits foot, forget it, lucky clover, don’t count on it, horseshoe hanging above my front door- are you nuts, that shitt would fall and hit me right in the head, prayers, yeah they work for a bit but Onyx always comes back with vengeance.  

Because of the unpredictability of Onyx, I have been an avid follower of my monthly horoscope. My favorite being Susan Miller’s Astrology Zone. When planning things out in my life it helps to follow my horoscope advice as there are days that are lucky days, or star days within the month. Now for any other normal person these days can be extremely lucky and bring about great things to the individual in the areas of money, love, health, social life, etc. , but for me these are just days that are normal. A normal day with no interference from Onyx. And I have come to accept this. For the month of August I had to star days, August 21-22, and Susan suggested doing things such as interviewing, making any sort of contract, and even submitting manuscripts on these two days. And that’s exactly what I did. I waited until August 22 to submit my manuscript to a publisher which had shown interest in the first three chapters. I actually thought I might have a shot at this but low and behold Onyx had other plans. The manuscript was not submitted because the Publisher’s website was down, a problem with the server, yeah go figure. I figured it was just a temporary thing and attempted to send it four times, and four times I got the error message. Onyx wins again. So what can I say I did after this disappointing episode? I could say that I drank half a pint of rum, or that I cried like a baby curled up in the fetal position at this Onyx incident, perhaps that I ate a half gallon of chocolate ice cream, and half of bag of Doritios in an attempt to forget about my miserable life? Well I didn’t because I have learned from previous experience that it doesn’t change shitt! This time I threw my hands in the air and said “fuck it”

So anyways my point in this rant to let the other people out there, who are inflicted by their own black little cloud, that you are not alone. There are others out there just like us. The best thing you can do is accept it, and hope that maybe one day, the cloud will just leave you alone, and Murphy’s law will no longer apply to you. If not then fuck it because life goes on.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Bleeding Hearts

 The same heart shaped birthmark on her hip was visible; this confirmed it was indeed his first love, Sirena. Kevin wrote down her address on the back of one of the photos. She lived in New York City, but he would not let the distance come between them. His mind was made up the moment her eyes seduced him right through the photograph.  Now he would go to the ends of the earth to see her one more time. Besides Kevin was still in New York, and he had to personally thank him for the excellent job he did. 
As he drove home from another long day at the office, he plotted. He needed to come up with a plausible story to explain an impromptu trip to New York City. His wife Nancy wasn’t na├»ve.
Antonio looked up at the sky as he waited in traffic. The dark purple skies above him mirrored the storm which was brewing his heart. Storms were unpredictable in this time in the Caribbean, in a moment the glistening sun would retreat and rain would flood down in violent outbursts. Antonio was accustomed to it by now. The rain added an extra twenty minutes to his commute time but he didn’t care. The storm was only the beginning; he still had to face Nancy.
He parked his luxury car in the 3 car garage, and slowly walked up the steps to his home. With each step he took, his legs grew heavier, to the point where he could barely make it up the last two. Nancy waited right by the door, standing in her bath robe, arms crossed against her chest.
“Where have you been? I know it doesn’t take more than an hour to drive home from work!
Tony sighed with frustration he was used to the usual nightly inquisition but tonight he grew frustrated by her accusations. “Is there a day that goes by and I don’t have to hear this nonsense. Nancy please, there was traffic, okay” He walked away without giving her a chance for a rebuttal. Off he went to their bedroom where he began to undress. He neatly placed his dark blue Calvin Klein suit on top of the recliner seat in the room. Nancy followed her husband into the bedroom and continued to work his nerves.
“So that’s what they call it now a days, traffic?” He didn’t bother to respond opting to bring up the trip to New York before he lost his courage. He turned to face his wife and with serious eyes spoke. ‘Nancy I’m afraid I have to leave town tomorrow. It’s sort of important. I have to go to New York to meet with a distributor. I’m sorry I know its last minute an all” Nancy stared at her husband waiting for the punch line but there was none. “You’re joking right? I hope you are kidding?” Nancy’s eyes swelled up with tears and Tony grew confused.  He sat down on their king sized bed and looked up at his petite wife.” Honey, I told you its work, I have to go. Why can’t you trust me for once?”
Nancy sat beside her husband. “You have no idea what day it is tomorrow?” her voice quivered. Silence between them.
“It’s our six year anniversary tomorrow Tony and I can’t believe you didn’t even remember.” Nancy cried with sheer disappointment. Antonio reached out to embrace his wife but she jumped up and walked to the other side of the bed.  How could he be so stupid and forget. He felt lousy
His vacant eyes stared at the rug on the floor of their bedroom, unaware of time, unaware of his surroundings any longer.
 “I, I, I…………,” His mouth couldn’t form a complete sentence?  It was the picture. He took it out of his pocket and smoothed out the wrinkles. Antonio turned slightly and looked over my shoulder. Nancy still sat hovered on a corner of the bed with her back to him. Her silent cries unnerved him yet he did nothing to stop them. She was right, he was a creep. A filthily liar, those words stung like poisonous venom. 
Antonio had promised to continue seeing the marriage therapist and he really wanted to but the moment he saw the picture all bets where off.
 He reached out to embrace his wife and tell her he still loved her but he couldn’t. His arm stood suspended in mid air.  Poor Nancy, his wife of six years, she meant nothing when compared to his first love. She had no idea her husband had hired a PI to find this woman. If she knew all of this she would be at the attorney’s office filing for divorce but she didn’t know and therefore she still had hope their marriage would survive.
Antonio sat quietly and stared at her picture. He clutched his heart, the pain was unbearable. The pain of knowing he was purposely hurting his wife and the pain of seeing the face of the woman his heart longed for over the years, and she wasn’t dead she was alive.
“Sniff, sniff” Nancy was sobbing again and Tony cringed; now he felt like a callous monster. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a tissue. Without facing her he placed in the middle of the bed. He knew it was a small gesture but it was a start for him.  He twirled his platinum ring around his finger, the ring, the constant reminder of his unending love for his wife. He took a deep breath, more like a sigh. Tony had a choice to make, stay there with his wife on the day of the anniversary of find his first love in New York City
Antonio booked the first flight out the next morning. It was their six year anniversary and she had made plans for them. This was her last attempt of saving their marriage and if he refused there will be nothing to salvage. Antonio felt bad but he knew that he had to go New York City and see her. His obsession for her had resurfaced. The same obsession he had as a boy. It wasn’t healthy then and it wasn’t healthy now. But he knew he was no longer in control of neither his emotions nor his actions. She had that effect on him which is why he vowed to never see Sirena again but now it was too late. He had seen her face and the fire in his heart was lit.

His wife begged and pleaded with Antonio to postpone his business trip and he wanted nothing more but to oblige to her request. He fought with himself all night and tried to convince himself not to go. He loved his wife so why was it so hard to cancel his trip to New York. He didn’t pack a thing his conscious wouldn’t let him but ultimately he decided to go for one day and return the next day. He then could spend time with his wife upon his return, if it wasn’t too late. But it was too late for she warned him if he walked out the door it was over. For a second he thought he would stay but he was a feen and he needed his fix. His addiction to Sirena was stronger than his love for his wife and so with much shame and sorrow in his heart he left.  Antonio knew that if he didn’t find her and see her once again he couldn’t move forward. 

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

No mas!

“We fight for justice
We fight for our freedom and our independence
We fight for our voices to be heard
We will not stand still and let our country be colonized
We will not let them destroy our national identity, our language, our educational institutions, our communications and our economy.”
The words echoing throughout the sun-lit plaza moved Antonio. He felt alive hearing the words that touched and awakened a part of him which until now slept.
He heard about the Boricua Army before but not good things. His father spoke negatively about the group. “Murderers” he called them, known for attacking US military bases and they were men who strongly believed armed struggle was necessary. But he was wrong because those men protesting did not hide under the mask of corruption or sell out to the highest bidder like his father did.
“We will fight for our traditions, our culture, our customs and our patriotic values
We fight to save our island, El Boriquen
Who will stand with us and fight?
Who will look the enemy in the eyes and tell them, No Mas!
We will challenge them because we ARE the Boriqua Army, the Matcheteros, and we will fight by any means necessary against our oppressor
No mas!”
            A swarm of machetes swung in the air.
No mas!” the crowd roared.
It was hot under the Caribbean sun but it paled in comparison to the heat brewing in his soul. He moved closer to the crowd, feeding off their energy. A multitude of steel blades danced in the air, and Antonio grew empowered by the show of patriotism.
            These men fought with honor against injustice and exploitation of, and for the Puerto Rican people. All of the sword yielding men had values and a vision of a free island. Antonio made his way through the crowd of working farmers, fishermen, and factory workers, proud men who loved their island and would do anything to protect it. These were the faces of real men, who would fight to the end, until their battle was won and the sweet taste of victory was theirs for the feasting. Antonio now wanted to be like these men. He swung his closed fist in the air and joined in.
“No mas!”
The proud Puerto Rican man next to Antonio, wearing a white sombrero gave him one of his two machetes. Antonio carefully ran his finger down the dull blade, feeling the power radiate through the inanimate object onto him. Gripping the handle with much pride, he thrust it up in the air. This was his first taste of independence, and he felt alive, he felt free, and he felt like a real man.

“No mas!” Antonio yelled. He no longer remembered why he waiting in the plaza in the first place. None of it mattered now. He no had a desire to be like these men, to fight for a cause and to stand up to injustice. 

Sunday, November 10, 2013

The Night Rider

continued.....................................He uses his forearm to break the fall and slow done the speed at which he is skidding across the concrete. He feels a burn and yells out in pain. The bike crashes onto a tree and the rider stops in the middle of the road. The rider doesn’t move.
            On his hands and knees, Mervin crawls to his bike and away from the crazed rider. He's wet and blood is gushing from his head as he never wore a helmet. Mervin begins to feel light hearted, his vision blurs.

She did it. He's hurt and now she will finish him off. No Mercy, the motto she lives by.  She turns the bike off and leaves it in the middle of the street. Raven walks in slow, dragged out steps, her black helmet disguises her. It is her mask to cover her identity.
            Mervin is bleeding; she follows the trail of blood. She can see that he is defeated. There is no fight left in him.
            "Who are you? He says. "What do you want from me?
            Raven doesn’t respond to him, she pulls her arm behind her and pulls out a glock.
            "Please, please. I don't have any money!" Mervin is crying.
            She points the gun at his face. Her hand steady, her breath slow, eyes wide. This is the moment she has awaited. Her final glory……………….
            "Who are you?" he whispers. He is so weak his head can no longer hold itself up. He places it on the ground and lets his body fall to the wet ground. Raven looks at him. He is bruised, scared, and vulnerable, just how she wanted him but now that the moment of victory is here, she is not enjoying him.
Mervin is a real man, flesh and blood; just like her brother was. She sees him for the first time, handsome, sad, unkempt, dirty, scared, and human. He wasn't an image of a monster in her mind anymore. Now as she lived the moment; it was different and she knew killing him would not bring her brother back.
 After all the years she denied having a heart, it was a lie. Raven did have a heart no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that she didn't. Seeing Mervin in his condition stopped her dead in her tracks. Her mind told her, do it, pull the trigger and finish him off but her heart told her not to. And she struggled to make her fingers obey her and pull the trigger but they would not budge. She couldn't do it. She couldn't pull the trigger. Her eyes fill with tears, for now she feels like a failure.
            Raven sees something more in his face. He is a handsome man she can't deny that, but something she never noticed, something hidden beneath the unkempt beard. His eyes were heavy with sadness, the same sadness she carried in her eyes. She puts her weapon down by her side and turns her back to walk away when she hears him, a soft whisper behind her, "Thank you" It send shivers down her spine.
            And Mervin is thankful for facing death and surviving has given him a new outlook on his life. He will no longer chase away his regrets with the bottle, for he has promised God if she makes it, he will start a new, better life.
Raven mounts Rita. She's not satisfied. Surely revenge would taste sweeter but nothing but bitterness is left. She watches him from her bike. He clutches his injured hand close to his body. Blood pours out his exposed flesh. He uses one hand to try and pull his mangled bike out of the tree but it's no use. He's lost too much blood, and it too weak. He passes out. Raven knows if she leaves him there, he will die, and this is what she wanted all along, but she can't. She feels sorry for the man who killed her brother. She rides over to him and stops next to his body. She removes her helmet and shakes her long dark hair loose. Mervin hears movement and looks up with blurred vision. He sees a woman, long hair, beautiful face, and angel he thinks. Her eyes big and blue like priceless sapphires. She removes her leather jacket, and then her black tank top. He is convinced is dreaming or dead. Raven wraps her shirt around his head so slow the bleeding down. Then she puts her jacket back on but not before he sees a tattoo of an angel on her stomach. Now he knows she is an angel sent to rescue him. She kneels next to him and wraps her arms underneath him to help him up. Mervin can barely stand but he holds on to her. "Get on. I'll bring you to the hospital. She helps him up then sits in front. "Hold on tight" she tells him and he does. He hangs on with all the strength he has left. She rides fast and hard. She knows the road and the back road and a trip that would take even an ambulance forty minutes takes her fifteen. Once there she walks him in before handing him over to a nurse and walks away.
            "Ms, Ms. Wait a minute!" she yells to Raven but she continues.
"Stop her!" she yells at the security officer who sleeps on a chair by the entrance door but he is not fast enough to catch Raven. She is down the street with Rita before he even makes it out the hospital doors. Mervin would never get to thank the angel who saved him; and he would never know the truth; the one who wanted him dead was the angel who saved him!

Friday, November 8, 2013

The Night Rider/ Mervin

            He stumbled out of the bar. He could not walk a straight line if his life depended on it. It took some time for him to even find his car keys, a sign that he should not be on the road. The rain beat down on him, angry that he could be so callous. Once the engine on his bike roared, he was off with no regards to anything. He'd given up cars after the  accident. Now he saw them as dangerous death traps, another accident waiting to happen. He felt safer on the bike, and he felt good knowing he couldn't kill someone with his bike.
            Mervin had worked as a detective after leaving the sheriff's department. He just didn't feel comfortable working in a place where whispers followed him, at each corner. He knew what they were saying. He was never liked there before anyways because he didn't follow the rules. He made his ends meet but after a while the cases stopped coming in. He was known for sloppy work that is working under the influence. But the less he worked, the more he drank and it became a vicious cycle.

            Now he worked as a lousy janitor for the local high school in town. They pay was just enough to keep his bills paid and a drink in his hands. Sometimes he skipped eating simply because he would rather spend his money on alcohol than food. He could always go down tot the homeless shelter and eat if he wanted.
            He past the Motel on Golden Avenue and that's when he saw the rider. Out of the darkness the rider awakens like a raging animal and pulled up right behind Mervin. The rider zig-zagged between the lanes, showing off. Not again, Mervin thought. He stuck his hand out and waved for them to pass but he wouldn't. Mervin wasn't in the mood and in no condition to entertain the hooligan by racing him.
            They were all hooligans. There was a gang of them bike riders at the high school. Bad asses, all of them. If he was still deputy sheriff he would put them all in jail were they belonged. 

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

The Night Rider

The Night Rider
I had lived my life for this moment. And I was willing to die for my cause. I practiced and practiced since his death. I had no attachments. I made sure not to date  because it was just too complicated. Once you let a man in your life, they want to know it all. What motivates you? What plans do you have for the future? Where do you see us in the future? Who, what, where, when? I did not have time for that. Plus no one understood my reasoning. I was told so many times, to just let it go. But no one understood my pain, my loss. How can I let it go? He was all I had. He was my world. After his death I went to live with my grandmother who was so old she could not offer me much but a roof over my head, and food on the table which I had to cook and buy at the store. I cooked, I cleaned, I ran her errands, and did the groceries.
I revved my engine up. She, who I named Rita, vibrated underneath my thighs. She was my bitch tonight and I knew she was in sync with me. She knew my mission and how important it was for her to function at optimal speed, there was no room for errors tonight. I had re-contrusted Rita my 1979 Harley Davidson piece by piece, carefully choosing her parts and putting her together with much love. It took me nearly two years but she was well worth it. To me, she was priceless because without her there would be no revenge, and this moment would never come
He rode past me and I pulled up right besides him. He knew what I wanted. It was always the same. Me, the faceless biker egging him for a good race and most of the time he complied. Little did he know today it was different. Today was the anniversary of my brother’s death, December 12, and today would be the day I would kill him. “Blood for blood eye for eye.” I whispered in the night. You are mine tonight, Mervin
I believed in the law of the ancients, a life for a life. Why should he be allowed to live while my brother laid six feet deep? If the legal system would not make him pay then I would. I give him the signal I want to race him, I nod and wait for him to nod and he does. It’s on. I let him think he has a chance by only performing at half of Rita’s potential. I knew the road like the back of my hand. This road was my playground. While other girls are off doing cheerleading, sleepovers, dating all the fun teen stuff I practiced on this here piece of road. I knew all its curves and its slippery patches. I knew exactly how many holes there were in the pavement and how to avoid them but he did not. And most important I knew the exact spot where the road cut off and dipped into a dangerous ravine. Many cars as well as people have come to and end there lives there and this is what I was hoping would be Mervin’s dooms fall as well. Only those who knew the road well could avoid it during the day. But now it was a dark rainy night, the road was treacherous and he was not sober.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Deadly Dreams

To understand how Vivian ended up about to die, I needs to take you back to the day it all started. The day Vivan agreed to do her best friend a favor.  This was the day her photos were taken.
The day was March 3, 2013. Her heart jump started into gear when the phone rung early that Saturday morning. Vivan wondered who would be so bold as to call us so early in morning. It was barely five thirty.
“Hello!” Vivian grunted.
            “Vivian, I’m sorry I woke you up darling but I need to ask you for a huge favor and before you say no just let me finish okay.” It was her best friend, Daniella.   
Vivian sighed loudly as she sat up in her bed and wiped the crust from her eyes. “What is it now?” It was just like Daniella always needing a small favor or two. 
“I need you desperately today.  I’m shooting my new fashion line for a magazine layout and I hired a model.  But the model I hired was called to Milan for a runway show and left immediately. She won’t be back for 2 more days.”  Daniella whinnied in her ear forcing Vivian to get up from the bed so she didn’t wake her boyfriend, Peter, who was snoring away. Vivian went to the bathroom to talk on the phone.  
“I see Daniella, then why don’t you reschedule the photographer for Tuesday then?”
 “Because the deadline to submit her photos to the magazine is Tuesday, now do you see my dilemma? I don’t have time to find another photographer and find another model. It’s just impossible.  If I don’t submit my photos to the magazine by Tuesday then I won’t be in the magazine. Don’t you see this is my big break and I may never get this opportunity again. I……just can’t blow this chance.” Daniella cried on the other side.
Vivian wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and curl up on Peter’s chest.
“Okay Daniella I understand your situation but I still don’t know what you need me to do?  How can I help?” She asked only to rush her friend off the phone.
 Daniella pleaded in her sweetest voice.  “Viv please, please, do me this one favor, and I will forever be in your debt.  I need you to be my model for the photo shoot.” Vivian remained silent in the bathroom waiting for the punch line but it never came. Daniella was serious.