Pikeville Comic Con

August 25th, 2018

I am honored to say I was part of the second annual Pikeville Comic Con in Pikeville, KY. There were some awesome guests making appearances. I wish I had a better chance to meet them all. The real stars at the show though were the fans and everyone came. The costumes were incredible. They all made me feel welcome with my first public appearance. Thank you all!

I have pictures on Facebook and Instagram!

I can’t wait to see everyone next year!

Love always,

Raymond

 

End of the Summer Fun

I apologize for the radio silence. With school starting, I had a lot of extra errands to run for the children. They’re all set well enough to get started and that’s the important part. My car is running again. So I can say it’s been productive despite my struggle to write.

I hoped to have more written by now. I hoped to communicate with you more. Life does not always agree with our plans.

On to the exciting news, next Saturday, August 25th, I will be at the Pikeville Comic Con in Pikeville, KY. It’s being held at the East KY Expo Center. The ticket price is $10.

I hope everyone can make it!

I will have copies of books 1-3 of the Rise of the Fallen series for sale and ready for any question or conversation.

One last thing before I say goodnight (It’s 1:05 am), I made an announcement on social media I hoped to share with everyone on here. The next adventure for Pipsqueak and Bob will be released soon! I’ll give you more information soon.

My Post (26)

Good night. I love you all.

Raymond

Insomnia

I’ve had nine and a half hours of sleep since Monday. I am sitting here listening to the movie my girlfriend fell asleep to (PS I Love You). My side table is littered with remotes, books, my phone, and a Mountain Dew. I shouldn’t be sharing this but it’s part of my superpower and curse. Sleep fails to be a convenience in my life. Insomnia claimed me over two decades ago (I’m 34…you do the math).

The curse about not sleeping tonight has to do with my plans for tomorrow. As part of my birthday celebration for my son. We’re going to the Natural Bridge State Park and the Kentucky Reptile Zoo. I believe I’m as excited as he is!

The title of the main book beside me, The Darkest Minds, keeps drawing my attention. Three words speak volumes as I battle with my own dark mind, I fight a never-ending battle that never truly stops. It comes from the same place as doubt and fear but worse than both. It flows through your veins with each blood cell. It shoots like electricity through your nerves. It paralyzes you and you don’t know why. My panic and anxiety are on hyper-drive.

I shouldn’t explain what I’m going through as I fight through this. I can feel myself want to slam a screwdriver through my temple. The bottles on top of my fridge beckon me. The pain in my eyes tries to bring me to my knees. I keep fighting. I pretend everything is normal and the same. I act goofy and crazy to make everyone unaware so they don’t worry. How do you explain that you can feel yourself falling apart? It’s only temporary but fuck! I hate it. I hate myself. I feel like everything wrong is my fault. Get this out of my head!

I’m just ready to find my way back to the peace and solace that lingers quietly in a corner of my heart.  The tears can stop at any time now. I’m sorry. Let’s try to sleep.

I love you all,

Raymond

4th of July

Happy Birthday, America! It’s going to be a long hard to road to find the best path, but we’re a resilient nation. We have to be! I believe in us. All I ask is you believe in us. All things happen for a reason.

I think other writers would agree. We feel the weight of the world on our shoulders. Honestly, I feel everything a little too much. I feel the emotions of others to the point that I find it hard to recognize my own. The same applies to my characters. I draw myself into them so far, I lose myself. It’s not my thoughts or trials. I press the keys to help them share their story.

We all have this story to share. We all have our moments that the world needs to experience. I grew up listening to stories from my grandparents and parents, my aunts and uncles, and anyone else willing to open up. It was as magical as opening a novel and traveling through the pages. The eyes inside my head watched everything.

This summer has been as trying as last summer. My writing has slowed from every obstacle that steps before me. I’m motivated though! I won’t give up! I want anyone struggling to promise me you will be the same way! Life’s hard. It sucks beyond repair at times. It’s life though. We can make it work.

Be strong! Write! Live! Laugh! Read! Fulfill every dream you can. Start small but reach for the stars! I am only limited by my own mind, but I am infinite! So are you!

Have a wonderful holiday, my fellow Americans! To all of my other beautiful friends worldwide, I hope the week gets better. The heat adds to the trying times! To my family, I love you! May you all find the wonder I cling to!

Raymond

Summer

The full moon is beautiful tonight as it flows among the clouds. Summer charges ahead. The kids love being out of school. I’m still at work each week. Forty hours in three days (I’ve lost my mind) but the four days off gives me time to write. I have three current works in progress with two waiting to be started.

Back to the kids being out of school. We spent the first week of June on vacation. I’m thankful for the chance to take them to new places and have the experiences. I’m even more thankful that our SUV waited until we made it home before it broke down. The starter has been replaced. The fuel pump went out. Bought the new fuel pump and two of the bolts holding the fuel tank straps in place snapped. It’s another work in progress.

All in all, it’s been trying but quite enjoyable. So many more things to look forward to before August. There are more things beyond. Later this week, I’m taking my older two children to see Jurassic World 2. I’m probably more excited than they are! We’ll decide on a more appropriate movie for the younger children later. I’m going to start ordering books for Pikeville Con coming up on August 25, 2018. It’s a little nerve-wrecking since it’s my first public appearance with my Rise of the Fallen series. Come see me if you’re in the area!

If you have any comments, any questions, please leave them! I hope to hear from you soon! Thank you.

Raymond

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Rise of the Fallen

When I started Son of the World it was meant to be a totally different book. I saw a thriller about a serial killer with the purpose of showing everyone how scary normal situations could become.

This is not the novel that grew from my idea. Yes, the book featured a serial killer, but by the end I discovered there was so much more to my character. He did horrific things to his victims. He followed orders with little hesitation. I found he suffered from the deaths he caused.

I discovered a connection between his desire for redemption and forgiveness to my own wish for self-forgiveness. I watched the questions of my own existence and mortality pour into the pages. The hope for answers has carried into book three as I get closer to finishing the first draft.

New Gods brought my need to examine politics and religion. I always worry about the media casting a negative role into both. I explored further into the path to inner peace even as the world fell apart. My character was converting into an anti-hero. He did not feel like he deserved to be saved. Who was he to save others? But he fought with the help from a family he never knew existed.

With this next book, I travel into the emotions of loss. I cannot hope to explain how much loss I’ve experienced. I have been around death since a child. I used my difficulty in dealing with loss as my motivation. I’m not sure I found any answers, but I managed release some of the pain I have held onto for years.

Thank everyone who have taken the time to purchase and read the novels. I’m thankful for each review. I hope they keep coming.

Thank you for being beautiful!

Raymond G. Newsome

Spring!

We drown in the rain and lay with the flowers. We cut off the limbs then wish for the leaves to grow. Spring is here!

I’m still lost in the ruined world of Sullivan Arch and the third book in the Rise of the Fallen series. The first draft is closer to being finished! The book has been an adventure to write.

I’ve loved the response I received from everyone who’s taken the time to review the books I have available. You’re awesome!

Thank you for taking the time of stopping in! Leave a comment. Visit my Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram accounts. I always respond. Have a great Easter!

Blood and Brimstone

Deliver Us from Evil
The sun glared off a camera lens into Tony’s left eye. He brought his arm up to the podium in a nonchalant attempt of blocking the light. The crowd grew around him as he began his speech.
“I am saddened today. In all efforts to receive aid from other nations, we have found ourselves at a loss. It has been made apparent that no one will answer our plea. Instead, they send hostile messages of invasion now that we are weak. With a heavy heart, I announce a call to arms to protect our glorious nation. I…”
A blinding beam burrowed into his cornea. Tony shook his head trying to adjust away from the annoying light. No matter which way he moved the ray seemed to find the same spot. He searched for the source thinking the cameras changed positions. No one had moved.
“I can only hope that we can resolve this issue before there is any bloodshed. I will do everything in my power…” Tony stopped, blinded by the shining reflection again. “…to prevent war.”
He saw something reflecting the sun in front of him. He squinted for a better look at the object. It moved again, but he remained puzzled. Tony forgot the crowd and speech trying to figure it out.
“Sir, are you alright?” Someone called to him from some unknown distance. He ignored the question and stepped around the podium.
“It’s about time you came out so we can get a better look at you. Now take a good look in the mirror, Tony. Well, let’s call it by its proper name, the mirror of Judas.”

Tony saw his true reflection as a demon. Gasps grew into screams before him.
“It betrays anyone who hides their true image.” Sullivan Arch moved to the front of the crowd. “How long did you expect to betray these innocent people?”
“As long as I wanted,” Tony replied in a deep, guttural voice. “These sad, little sheep swallowed every word I fed them.” He gestured to all of the eyes watching the exchange.
Sullivan pulled his axes out while Samael held the mirror up behind him. “You’re finished.”
“You wish,” growled Tony. He unleashed a terrible shriek that pierced everyone’s ears.  A thunderous sound grew from behind the stage. Tony raised his arms as demons jumped into the crowd attacking the humans around the angels.
People scattered to the best of their ability. They collided with one another slowing down their ability to run away. Demons sliced the chests and faces of their victims open. A woman squirted blood from her shredded throat. Severed heads caused a few escapees to trip. Bodies were trampled.
Sullivan dropped the closest demons working toward Tony. He watched Tony turn back into his former disguise before running offstage. Samael and Chamiel helped kill the demons in the crowd. Jophiel managed the borders of the mass. The evil horde caused as much carnage as possible while trying to avoid death.
Sullivan chased Tony through a labyrinth of parked cars. Tony mistook a dead end for an alley. He turned the corner too late to realize his error. Tony punched the brick wall. Sullivan hesitated a couple of yards away.

“It’s over Tony. We’ve exposed you to the world. No one is coming to save you. Face me and die with some honor.”
Tony spun around. “You know, that’s an interesting suggestion. I think I’m going to pass.” He walked closer. He watched Sullivan maintain his distance. “It’s Sullivan, right? I remember the stories Furcas told me. You have an impressive track record, my friend.”
“I am not your friend.”
“Of course not, but I am Furcas’s friend. And despite what you may believe, he has your best interest in mind. Do you think you would still be alive if he didn’t?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Furcas has a message for you. The war can’t be stopped at this point, but the demons won’t ever win. We’re too few in number. Jessica is lost in the desert even after he sent trackers out to find her. We can’t find her.”
“Then why start the war? You lost her and couldn’t find her? You stay the hell away from Jessica.”
“No matter what you think, Jessica would be dead now if not for Furcas. You would be dead. He has looked out for you since day one. He knows this war can’t be won. Beelzebub won’t listen to reason. He’s bent on world domination.”
“Is there anything else before I kill you?” Sullivan adjusted the grip on his axes.
“It’s not my day to die. Do it.”

A dog barked as it plowed into Sullivan’s legs knocking him down. He rolled over and jumped to his feet. He expected an attack that never came. Sullivan glanced everywhere. He was alone in the alley.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
Sam landed next to him. “Where’s Tony?”
“He got away. It’s my fault. I didn’t notice the dog. It was Ornias.”
Chamiel and Jophiel arrived a second later. Sullivan looked at them.
“We have to get back. I have something to tell everyone.”

The Shrinking House

So I wanted to do something special for everyone. I have the first three chapters for a novel called The Shrinking House finished. I’m hoping to have this novel finished by November but I am a long way to being finished since it took three chapters to reach the second point in my outline of nineteen.

*Content warning* There are some sensitive subjects considering recent news. I apologize in advance. I don’t watch the news much and had no clue. However, I refuse to change the story as I feel it is something others can relate.

I give you, The Shrinking House.

 

Prologue

The separation between a mother and children were said strong enough to rip a soul. A soul tear created from loss of a physical part of a person. The damaged spirits cursed for a lifetime. Death ended the suffering as the spirit’s energy purified. However, the living remained lost, an empty shell with one cure, a love so powerful the void filled.

A terrified teenager shifted through the darkness. She hid in the bushes consoling a newborn. The shrubbery offered little protection from the rain. The water soaked her into shivers. The infant remained warm wrapped in his mother’s coat. She coughed. Blood splashed the branches before the stream of droplets washed away the evidence.

The traffic died in front of the safe drop box at the local firehouse. She slipped across the street. She gave her son a kiss on the forehead. In the pocket of her coat, she left a note for him. She hoped he would forgive her someday. The baby boy swaddled and warm slept as his mother rang a bell.

She hid before the fire chief made it to the box. Her cough almost gave her away as her arm shook from her mouth. He walked back in with the child. The girl ran around the corner. The shivers intensified with the price of her balance unaware of the hyperthermia. The cold crept further through her body as she landed on the sidewalk. Her tears were lost as she forced her muscles to function.

She no longer felt cold. Her feet were unsure of their path. She blinked for a second then the ground was gone. Her temple smacked the newspaper box by the curb. Her eyes didn’t blink again. She remained sprawled face down in a puddle of diluted blood for an hour before anyone noticed.

The chief read the note. He wiped a tear away. He left the note with baby Robert in the car seat. On the way to the hospital, he passed an ambulance. He radioed to see if assistance was needed. No, they had a Jane Doe that was dead on arrival. He sighed and turned the child over to Child Protective Services. He went straight home for a stiff drink.

“How was work, dear?” His wife called as he entered the foyer.

“It was hell. We had another infant dropped off and a few blocks away a young woman fell on the sidewalk. She died before help arrived.” He bypassed the living room for the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. “I’m pretty sure she was the mother.”

“Oh, no, that’s awful. Bless her heart. Was the baby okay?”

“Yes, he’s at the hospital. I already completed the paperwork with social services. He’s now a ward of the state.”

His wife sat up. She glared at him with determination. “You know, Charles, we could always try…”

“I don’t know, Jo Ann.”

“I know why you don’t want to raise a child, but we tried for so long. Here’s a baby that needs a family.”

“Ugh, we can go ask tomorrow, Jo. Despite what I want, I’ll do this for you.”

Jo Ann could not hold her glee. She bounced out of her chair. She crossed the room in a couple of steps and reached down to kiss him. He offered a half-hearted smile.

“I’m going on to bed, dear. Please don’t stay up too late.”

Charles squeezed her hand. “I’ll be up soon. Let me finish this drink.”

Jo Ann wandered up the stairs while Charles stared at the amber liquid in his glass. With everything he saw every day, she still wanted a child. He sighed before killing the bourbon. He took the glass to the sink. Charles shook the doubt from his head. He followed his wife upstairs.

The couple interviewed the next day in hopes of having a child. Charles remained skeptical after they went home. Jo Ann was always the optimist. Her mind was set they would bring him home in a few days. Charles refused to dampen her bright light no matter how much he doubted.

Charles came home the fire station a week later. “Any phone calls today, dear?”

“No.”

“Not a single call?”

“I said no! Why do you keep asking?”

“Did you check the mail?”

“Charles, what is wrong with you?” She walked toward the foyer to properly scold him until she noticed him holding something in his hands. “Charles, what’s that?”

“Jo Ann, come say hi to our son, Robert.”

 

 

Chapter One

Robert woke up to his alarm clock. The music blared as he smacked at the snooze button. A couple of misses compelled him to sit up against his will. After a perfect shot, the song stopped. Robert buried his head back into the pillow. He began to nod off when the alarm screamed at him again.

The voice of his mother flowed up the stairs after him. “Robbie, it’s time to get up for school!”

He fought gravity into a sitting position. “I’m up. I’m up.”

His hand rubbed the sleep away from both eyes. Numb feet carried him to the closet. He yanked a shirt and pair of jeans off the hangers. Robert got dressed and lumbered down the stairs to breakfast.

A plate waited on the table. It contained eggs, bacon, and toast. He shoveled the food into his mouth.

“Stop right now.” Robert lowered his fork as his mom stared him down. “Did you wash your hands?”

He looked his hands over. “They’re clean.”

“Did you wash your hands?”

“No, I didn’t. I’ll go wash them.” He moved toward the bathroom.

“That’s what I thought.”

Robert knew better than argue. He scrubbed his hands and dried them. With his mom satisfied, he returned to his meal. He tried to finish as fast as possible.

“Thanks, Mom. That was great.” He jumped from the table for his backpack. His kissed her head before he rushed out the door.

“Be careful,” she called out.

“I will,” he yelled back. He jogged down the steps by the garage and reached a full sprint at the end of the driveway.

Robert arrived at the corner as the bus stopped in front of the other students. One of the girls rolled her eyes. Robert held his hand up to gesture for her to go first. He watched her climb up before he hopped on before the doors shut. He made his way down the aisle until he flopped into the seat with the girl.

“I’m serious, Robbie. You’re going to miss it one of these days and then you’ll be screwed.” Candace had her backpack unzipped searching for a book. She flipped a blonde ponytail out of the way. A pair of glasses clung to the end of her nose. She shoved them back up with a finger. “Could this day be any more annoying?”

“Well, we could be going to school today.”

“Oh, that’s clever. Did you strain anything thinking of that?”

“Is that why I have a cramp in my left leg? What book are you reading now?”

“Pride and Prejudice,” she smacked him in the arm. “Don’t think I didn’t realize you were staring at my butt earlier.”

Robert rubbed his bicep. “I do every day. My goal is to someday be able to touch it.”

“That’s so weird. We’ve been friends since kindergarten.”

“I didn’t find you attractive in kindergarten.” Robert nudged Candace with his elbow. Candace raised her fist. “I’m joking. I know. We are best friends, after all. It would be weird.”

She dropped the book and stared at him. “Why do you want to be my boyfriend so bad?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Robert replied. He looked toward the front of the bus afraid of her reaction.

Candace had no words for him. She shook her head and smiled. The book covered her face when he turned back. They never spoke another word as the bus rolled up to school. Robert held the line up so Candace could manage out in front of him. With a sheepish glance, she scurried off toward their homeroom.

Robert followed behind trying to think of anything he might say. He came up empty. They took their normal seats beside each other surrounded by twenty other classmates. He ignored the boring beige walls with the fading world map and clock that ran five minutes slow.

The final bell rang at 8:15 am acting as the teacher’s cue to shut the door. He moved back to the front of the room. He started roll call as a student walked in. The curly-haired ginger wore a black leather jacket over a death metal band tee. Black jeans covered the top of his combat boots. The teacher never raised his head. “Thank you for joining us today, Mister…”

Robert jumped with the first shot that drove Mr. Williams backward in his chair. The popping sound increased as his mind caught up to the moment around him. Everything was in slow motion when he turned to Candace, but she wasn’t in her chair.

Time sped up in the second Robert slid across to her on the floor. Blood poured from her left shoulder. All the CPR training he received over the years from his dad flooded into his brain. He tried to put apply pressure covering his hand. He stripped his shirt off to help stop the bleeding. “Candace, talk to me. Candace?”

“Robbie?”

“Oh, thank God, focus on me. Help will come soon, sweetheart, talk to me.”

“Robbie, I like you too. I always have.” Candace gave his hand a light squeeze. Alarms went off in his head.

“Save this speech until we get you to a hospital and I know you’re safe.”

“Robbie… I love you.”

Robert’s head bounced off the wall behind him after the bullet hit him in the shoulder. He reached for Candace. He tried to save her. He, he… He lost consciousness.

 

 

———————-

“Robbie, are you okay, son? Robbie?”

“Ma’am, he needs to rest.”

“Listen here. He is my son. You either get out of my way or I will remove you. Do you understand me?”

His eyes flickered. A shadow moved in the light. Shapes sharpened into figures then further into faces as his brain processed everything. His mother appeared above him hovering in full protective mode.  Tears streaked her face with glistening eyes.

“Mom, how’s Candace? I tried to stop the bleeding then I hit my head.” Robert pushed forward to drop back grabbing his sore shoulder. The questions seeped out of him at his mother.

“Robbie, we can answer questions later. You need to rest.”

“Where is she? Tell me, mom.”

She turned away from him. In that moment, he knew. “Robbie, she didn’t make it. I’m so sorry, honey.” She reached for him.

He shoved her away with what strength remained. “No! Don’t touch me. Don’t try to hold me right after you tried to tell me my best friend is dead. She was the only girl I have ever loved. And now she’s dead? All of my efforts were for nothing?” His face warmed with anger, and the one good hand trembled.

“It wasn’t your fault, Robbie. You were shot in the shoulder. The force slammed you into the wall. You busted your head open. The bullet went straight through, and you almost bled to death. You came close to dying, too.”

He rolled away to face the window, despite the excruciating pain that shot through his body. Why was it he still lived while his best friend died right beside him? He let the tears fall. The pain hurt more, but he couldn’t tell which pain was the worst. Exhaustion stole his last thought of Candace.

Robert stood in a cluttered house. He recognized a few parts in the moonlight flooding the slanted windows. A set of stairs climbed up the wall closest to him. A path led the way through piles of magazines in perfect stacks. A few careful steps brought him into the kitchen. The one window filled by moonlight shined onto the table. There in the center was a birdcage.

“We’re waiting for you,” a voice whispered from behind him.

He spun into consciousness with a passing glimpse at flowing red hair. Robert closed his eyes to see who was attached to the hair. The dream vanished without another image. Lights reflected off the window catching his attention.

He noticed the shape lying underneath the sill on the couch. He raised his head to get a better view. The pain shot through the shoulder wound like a thousand bonfires in his muscle fibers and bones. He winced and grabbed the side rail with his good arm. With a lot of wiggling and struggling, Robert managed to sit up better.

“She hasn’t left your side for longer than the time it took her in the bathroom earlier after I got here. You were already asleep. You know, I know that you found we adopted you as a baby. I know you’re hurting a lot in every way. But don’t forget, you were her dream come true and she loves you more than you can imagine.”

Robert’s father leaned forward in the chair next to the bed. He rubbed Robert’s head for a second. “Something else you shouldn’t forget- I love you too.”

“I love you too, Dad. I’m sorry. Like you said, I was hurting. She was there to catch it all.” He looked back at his mom. “How do you do it? I tried to save her. I tried to save her and Candace still died. How can you handle it?”

“It’s hard. In the end, I have to remember that I did everything I could. You have to realize you don’t get to decide who lives or dies.”

Robert studied his father. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Silence settled between them. Robert turned on the television for the noise. He made sure the volume remained low for his sleeping mother. The pair stared at the show until Robert fell back to sleep.

 

 

Chapter Two

He sat in the wheelchair waiting for his father to pull the car to the door. Robert stared at the arm in a sling. It served as a reminder that he was alive. The road to recovery began and it would be a long one. In his mind, Robert watched the weeks of physical therapy pass. He could move both arms but his injured arm still hurt too much for constant use. We’re waiting for you. He saw a flash of red. His eyes popped open.

The car arrived in time to save him from any chance of awkward conversation. A male nurse pushed the chair next to the open back door. The man made sure Robert was secured into the car before he disappeared into the building. Robert realized how uncomfortable his tense shoulder felt in the seatbelt.

“Are you doing okay back there?” His father could read his expressions through the rearview mirror.

“I’m fine.” Robert winced as he adjusted.

“Well, that’s good. We have to stop by the store so your mom can do some shopping.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“Just kidding, I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Charlie, leave him alone.” Robert watched his mother smack his father’s shoulder.

“Oh god, Robbie, can you drive me back to the emergency room? I think I need surgery now too.” He held the ‘wounded’ shoulder with overdramatic flair.

“This is not Star Trek, Charles. You are not Captain Kirk.”

“What do you mean by that, mom?”

His father slammed the brakes bringing the car to a sudden stop. He turned around to face Robert. He shook his finger as he spoke, “You take that back, right now. If you don’t get that reference, I have failed you as a father.”

Robert laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. His mother chuckled. “Charles, you’re holding up traffic. Let’s get home.”

The wheels lurched forward again. Robert focused on the sounds the car made while his father drove. His parents continued talking but he heard distant muffles. The blurred image of life moved passed his car window like an impressionistic painting. The blood in his face aimed for boiling point. He tightened his grip on the door handle. The last few seconds of his worst nightmare replayed in slow motion. He saw Candace’s face. He reached for her as everything grew dark.

“I love you, Robbie,” She said

“Robbie!” His father’s voice pulled him back. “We’re home, son. Let’s turn loose of the door so your mom can open it. Then you can go rest when we get inside.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was, umm.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain to me.”

Robbie shuffled up the stairs to his room. He slid across the comforter propping his arm up. He checked the time as he grabbed the TV remote. A few channels stuttered until he found a show. He listened to the voices turn to static. The room faded to that classroom. The bell rang right before the first shots. If he had reacted soon, she could be alive. They could have lain on the floor behind the desks. He fell into a troubled sleep.

Candace sat down beside him. She looked the same as the day she died. She wore her red shirt and long, flowing skirt. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail. A smile settled on her lips.

Candace brushed the hair away from his face. “Robbie, how could you let me die? I loved you.” Her face leaned next to his ear. “You said you loved me. Why are you still alive? How dare you live without me!” She pointed a gun at his head and pulled the trigger.

 

 

A knock rang from the other side of his bedroom door. Robert sat in the window staring at the rain. His mom stuck her head through a small opening. “Robbie, would you like something to eat?”

“What’s the difference? Not like anything matters anymore.” He tightened the hug on his bent knees.

Her shoulder slumped against the frame. A sharp inhale forced an ever-present heartache into a lump in her throat. She considered the usual conversation of keeping up his strength and needing to live so her memory continued. She could not find the words. She lost the will to argue with him.

The door shut without another word.

Robert watched his mother run out the door for the safety of her car. She rushed from her home and the son she couldn’t save.

Robert felt the chasm widen in his soul. The depths reached a point of no return. All other emotions fell victim to the growing emptiness in his heart. The dull blue that encircled his heart dimmed into an abysmal black.

Robert grabbed his backpack. He dumped out the ridiculous school books and notebooks. Pens and pencils scattered across his bed. The mess held no interest for him though. Robert grabbed his most weather appropriate clothes. He shoved them in the bag before moving to the bathroom. A toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, a washcloth, and a towel were tossed on top. He zipped it closed.

In the front of the bag, he added his tablet, a charging cord, a couple of pocket knives, and a solar-powered charger his dad bought him when he was in boy scouts. He pushed what cash he had into his jean pocket then went down the stairs to the kitchen. Robert slipped on his shoes, grabbed a cinch bag, and filled it with non-perishables. He found a couple bottles of water and his old canteen.

Robert turned off the GPS locator on his phone at the back door. He looked around the room soaking in the memories. He hoped the good times would always stay with him.

Robert laid his house key on the counter. He locked the door and crossed over into the woods beyond the backyard. The nearest city was thirty miles away. He had to cover as much distance as possible with time to find shelter with the remaining light.

 

To be continued…

Update

I’m sorry for the silence. I have been writing every day I’m free from work. That…that is a whole other situation for another day. Back to the writing. I have four current works in various stages of completion.

Once I survive my exhaustion, I will perk back up and be my normal joking self. Today I am lost in a serial killer novel. It’s 11:30 PM. Good night