The Path

A psychologist who is no stranger to anguish and demons finds that the world may not be what she always thought it was. What happens now is a mystery to everyone but the soul.

Chapter One - The Beginning of the End

She muffled a silent scream that racked her body, mind and soul with agony. Hoping that she was on fire or some other horrid form of slow and excruciating torture she sat abruptly in bed. As she glanced over her body and sheets, the lack of hungry flames seemed to be more like hell than heaven. Now that she was fully awake she had to deal with the mental anguish, the nightmare that was nothing compared to what she endured each and every waking moment. Yet, no one in her daily life seemed to notice. She wondered if she was merely that talented of an actress or if they just didn’t give a damn. She was hoping it was the former. If the latter were true then there really was no reason for her to go on acting. At times she wished she could simply ask. But then that would negate her reason for acting, too. 

 

Well, either way, she had to get up and go about the charade for another day. Damn, why couldn’t she just not wake up today? Not really a suicidal thought, just a weary one. Most days she dealt with the searing ache in her chest like it was a fire that pushed her forward, to better make sure no one else ever had to feel that pain. Today already seemed to be one of the worse ones. No, she remembered ones much worse, where the wretchedness felt as if there were a black hole in her chest, one that everyone must be able to see but be too polite to mention. These black hole days, forever sucking every emotion into itself until she felt like she was the walking dead, the decrepit living, somewhere in between where every feeling that ever was had been drawn into her own chest and she had to feel them all at once, all while smiling when she really felt like howling. 

 

However, this morning seemed different. She couldn’t put her finger on it; she just sensed a conclusion on the horizon, not a good one, but not really a bad ending either. How to explain it, hmmm, well you could say it was like when a loved one dies, an elderly family member. Not exactly like a grandmother or such, just when you reach that age where you realize that everyone must die, they must complete the circle. When you realize that you too will one day die, and you are at a time in your life when close friends near you are readying themselves for that inevitable finale. This is how she felt about her own impending "wrap up." That it was long overdue, that she had been doling on long enough and that there were better things waiting for her. Some would be sad to see her go, she wasn’t so sadistic to think that they would cheer when she finally left their realm, but they would all know that she had experienced a complete time frame and that she would authentically be happier somewhere else. 

Where that place would be, she no longer knew. She knew that there had to be something else, the good gods wouldn’t let this be it, right? No, she had been a faithful servant, obedient and only willful when she felt that harm would come to a particular essence. A model archetype. If she didn’t deserve something more, who did? This was not her thought though, just the general consensus of those around her. Unfortunately few knew the torture in her very soul. Some could sense it, those of the utmost perception, she actually was a very talented deceiver, but what no one, not even the designers she felt, knew was how she inflicted this very agony within herself. How she sought it out and welcomed it back home like the prodigal son. Before this pain had erupted in her, she had been nothing. She had forgotten how to feel anything at all, pain, sorrow, joy, happiness, hate, anger, weakness, strength… they all eluded her. But now that she had found the well, she no longer walked among the emotionless who drained life. She did realize some days were better than others. Some days she didn’t have to fake the laugh as much as others, some days she was generally excited about some trivial issue. A good book, a great song on the radio. Generally she put on a farce that none questioned. The ones who did dig deeper into the insanity that she was soon stopped, less they get the infection themselves. Most said she built a wall around herself to protect intruders from further causing her pain, but ironically, she hunted that very type of being out. 

Although all saw what they preferred to see, an emotionally scarred woman, although a pleasant one, they didn’t interfere too much in her life. She was someone who would go above and beyond to help someone in need, but also not one to be trifled with lightly. By and large this was ok with her. Many came to her with their problems, and she fed on them like a calf on his mother. Sucking every raw and blistering emotion she could from them before she helped them come to the common and usually very identifiable answer. Very rarely did she not care to help others with their trifle problems. Still, there were days that the black hole tore her open and she could only sit and rock. Meditation helped at first, but then as she grew accustomed to the ritual the old thoughts crept back. As those days turned to night, she didn’t sleep either, she couldn’t always remember what she dreamt of, she did know that she woke shrieking soundlessly. Her whole cadaver would shake violently with terror at some unseen horror, dreams that wouldn’t dispel with the light. When those dreams stole upon her she knew that the gravitational pull would be strong that day. At times she could use it to her advantage and really help someone, even if they didn’t know they were being helped, but normally she just shied away from the common world and hid in her dark corner. 

Cowardly maybe, yet no one here would ever be ready for the things she kept from them. Should they ever discover how deep the disturbances went, they would have locked her up for sure. And then what good could she do then? One had asked once if she was suicidal. Yes, in the beginning she had been, but now that she understood her bequest she knew that even should she try it would not work, it would be given to someone else, and she would never let this be taken from her. So she endured and hoped that when she left this place she would take her gift with her. In her own mind she was saving the entirety by remaining as whole as she could withstand. Her own personal Pandora’s Box, and while this world may not have been the Garden of Eden, at least she would keep this secret better than the original miss-guided woman had. So, let them think she was slightly off, she in fact was. So she made sure to act as though she was just guarded and not crazy. How she managed it may very well never be known. Such is why she relished when someone came to her with their inconsequential problems. Love lives, petty disputes, those who tossed away the very things they should have cherished with all their entity’s, she absorbed their pain, love, anger, hurt, and took it into herself. Almost like an emotional "sin eater" as she thought of herself. She was their freedom from their own greedy transgressions. 

After waking this morning to the horrid dream that she never seemed to remember but instinctively knew was never the same from night to night, she mulled over all the thoughts and emotions she had acquired as of late. And she again sensed the change, moving closer to it this time. Would she be ready? Would she leave behind the darkness for some other deviant to take upon their spiritual shoulders? She hoped not, although she had not wanted it when it had come to her before either, and now look at her. She was not only succeeding at the "job," if it could be called that, she was actually excelling. By her own terms of course. What qualifications made her either surpass or fail she truly did not know, seeing as they had not been disclosed to her, she liked to think she was doing marvelously well. Maybe the next person to receive this special ability, if there was one, would feel the same as her and look upon it as a blessing not so much in disguise, more like in drag. Pretending to break the person down, while actually giving them a reason for living, albeit not the life dreams are made of, still a life worth living at least. As she walked out of the house and pondered whether she would have the strength to leave her shield behind if asked to do so she looked into the sunshine. It really was magnificent at this time of the morning; you could see the brilliant daybreak sun and the lingering moon both. Very seldom did she ever think about the beauty around her that when she did see it and stare in wonder, looks were thrown her way. Why couldn’t those around her take in the environments’ beauty and be truly awed for just one tiny moment. Maybe they were, maybe they all saw what she saw, but it was simply the darkness that evaded her more each day that did not allow her to see others joining in with her dumbstruck awareness.

Whatever the answer, she bravely stepped out into the sun and began a slow, drawled out walk down the road to her office. She could drive, but it was better for her to walk the sixteen blocks. She would shower and change in her custom office bathroom. The time alone gave her a chance to inventory herself for the day charging towards her. As long as she could keep herself in check she could continue to do her work. Some said she loved it, that she was a natural, though honestly she loved very little anymore, love was one emotion that she knew without a doubt caused the horrid lucid nightmares. She would only take on that emotion when she could feel herself slipping, when she felt as if she was losing the "gift" bestowed upon her. That had become who she was. Today, she knew that she was going to have to deal with that pesky emotion, L-O-V-E. She didn’t like it one bit, but as she went over her sentimental register, she came to the sudden realization that this affectionate sensation could be part of the transformation she knew was coming closer every moment. Never before had she actually known beyond a shadow of doubt what passions she would be discussing that day. From the water cooler to lunch with "friends" to simply passing by someone on the street, their feelings were so varied, and they seemed to be in constant motion. No two ever seemed to feel the exact same at the same time, though they often thought they did. One always loved the other more, or hated the other more, or felt empathy while the other felt sympathy. It seemed never ending. That was what she was here for, what she was made, so to say, to do. Well, maybe adjusted or even revolutionized would be a better than "made." She didn’t even know herself.

Finally, she reached the building her middle class but still luxuriant office was located. Using her key swipe card, she let herself in and proceeded for the elevator. Humming along with Mendelssohn’s Spring Song she pressed the button to floor seven. Her hand jerked to a stop midway back to her side. Since when did she hum? Yes, she had chosen the elevator music, easy to do when dentists and plastic surgeons also occupied the building. They wanted culture, they just didn’t know enough about true civility to pick the right muzak, that’s where she guided them to her favorites, much the way she guided others to their developmental answers. This was different though, she had used this composition many times in her own awakings of spirit, she had never truly enjoyed it the way she was at this very moment. Something very singular was happening, she could no longer feel it, she could no longer sense it, she just knew it. But what? And as suddenly as the knowledge came to her, the elevator doors glided open and she walked briskly to her office door, without understanding how she was moving. After taking the few phone messages from her receptionist she moved to her private office and bathroom, getting ready for the day. Only after she was comfortable in her chair reviewing her files did her body seem to respond to the scream inside her head to stop and assess what had happened in the elevator. As soon as she began to levy the circumstances she felt the lightness again, the sensation that spoke of happiness. She knew what it was of course; it wasn’t only her job but also her providence to know each and every emotion. To understand them and be able to correctly diagnose them. Still, she had not felt, truly felt giddiness in so long that she thought she must be delusional. 

Yes, that must be it, she was over worked and worried about the change that was coming, she would not stress over this trivial bout of buoyancy, it would pass and no need to stir up other seldom released passions like hope and conviction. Instead she went back to her case files and waited for her first encounter of the day. The young man had tortured three people allegedly, and all though he admitted it to everyone, she did not believe his story. There was something amiss, something that the senses only she possessed picked up on. Five years should have been enough to understand the way the once-juvenile thought and she was sure, with her newfound heightened knowledge, that he would explain why he would tell the world he had committed an atrocity when all knowledge said he didn’t. They had already caught the criminal. DNA evidence proved the other man’s guilt along with the details only he and the police knew. The bpy showed no signs of any delusion, he knew that his story was not believed, could not be believed, and he knew this was the reason why he was in a mental institution, and yet he seemed to only get more specific with each session. Almost as if he was sent to test her emotional reflexes. What kind of karmatic law would allow this man to suffer just to test her? At times she wondered if she was really helping anyone, then she remember the old axiom, shrinks have to be as crazy as their patients to ever think about helping them. 

She smiled when she thought about how close to home that hit regarding her. She moved on slowly, still slightly grinning. Her next patron was another young man. This one seemed to be the exact opposite of her ten o’clock though. He was vibrant, open, and genuinely happy. And that was where her abomination once again settled in for a chat. He seemed to be hiding something dark that he felt would not be understood. How well she understood, even knowing a similar tale of what he was going through, she could not break him out of the mask he put on for everyone including her. Both of these men came to see her every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. And she was on call at all times for both. If she was going to be any help to anyone, she would have to help these two before moving on. All her other appointments were the typical midlife crisis, marriage counseling, although that was generally just for friends and a very few select references. Other than the two men she was trying to breach, her real work consisted of calls from the radio station where she did her Psychologist for Rent radio show at WPMG, and the odd person who recognized her from her best-selling book, The Real Delusions We All Have and How to Embrace Them. She had given a part of herself to the book, a secret part she had never wanted anyone to read, but read it they did. She really couldn’t help it. When the book was discovered by her once friend, (who also happened to be a self-help book agent), he demanded that he be allowed to represent her. She had been shocked, no wonder he hadn’t been helping her move the boxes out of her rundown apartment, he had been hiding and reading her agenda/journal. When he had finally talked her into it, she was amazed to find out that Little, Brown had taken it on the spot. She knew she was just a fad and would die out in due time, at least it had been a stepping stone to using her endowment as was apparently seen fit by some higher power or another. 

Snapping back to the present, she realized Mr. ten o’clock was late. She called her receptionist over the intercom to send him in, but apparently her calendar had been cleared for the next three days. Only after thoroughly determining from the woman that she had in fact called just yesterday to clear it, and listening to the message left on the machine in her own voice, did she let the woman go home and began "organizing" her office like she had evidently left communications for. After approximately ten minutes doing nothing particular she once again experienced the bliss she had encountered in the elevator earlier that morning. With a rush she anticipated the following torment she knew would pursue the bright thoughts, as in fact had tagged along with every good feeling she had had since the change with the exception of this morning. It never came. Wonder soon filler her. What in the hell was going on? Had she misused her power, was it being taken from her? She knew that she should be grateful, but she didn’t think she could go back to the living dead. She was useless. If they were going to take it away after all this time and all the things she had tried to do and leave her here, she would take matters into her own hands. This time, she would be truly be among the "anti-living," as so many had called her before the modification. What good was a body with no willpower? She would just be taking up valuable space and energy. Best to do the deed herself if the oh so holy divinities couldn’t do it themselves. 

Suddenly she was an unimaginable distance away. She could look down and see her body in her office chair, but her eyes were blank, soulless and hollow, it was a terrifying look, not all unlike what she had seen haunting her in the mirror before she… well, before she was. She turned, if you can call moving without a body turning, essentially just the essence of who you are. As she did this she was looking into the most beautiful eyes that she had ever seen before. They were a color no human’s had any right being. Not green, but the color of spring leaves, of fresh moss growing on the trees of the rainforest, with flecks of blue that put shame to the sky and all the oceans. They had wisdom and kindness in them; they also had the knowledge of everything since the beginning of time and before. Strange and awe-inspiring, while also humbling. She knew instantly that this was no god or goddess that any religion on Earth could justifiably explain. This being seemed human, but not at the same time. Everything that she thought was suddenly on the open plain they were abruptly standing on. Unexpectedly the being spoke with no voice, still she understood all the same. 

She was to be a guide for lost souls; she had experienced what this creature had undergone for all epochs. She knew what to look for and how to help. Her only mission in life was to help the faltering spirits in their quests for eternal life. She would be guided by no religion, law, faith, creed, or conviction other than the emotions she could now truly understand and flex upon. Should she choose not to take the path offered unto her she would be released back into her life either with or without the last ten years of her life having already happened, it was all her decision. The road she would take in any direction she chose would be a difficult one. All of the world had lost its humanity. They were doomed to continue their current channels until they found it again. There would be no fiery pit, this was their hell. A nightmare of their own making. Just as she had discovered, so would they all discover, what they did next was each person’s choice. They were simply being given the ultimate clue. Pick one another up, let emotion in, don’t DO good " BE good. It wasn’t the actions of what you did so much as the meaning you put into and behind them. If you failed helping someone but you truly had your soul into guiding, helping that person, you were not bad, that soul simply chose its route. Learn how to regain your humanity, compassion, mercy, kindness, your very soul and the ultimate reward would be yours. She would take it, the question was, would everyone else? That was not for her to know. Surely the path would be strewn with rocks, fire, ice, and every imaginable horror the body can withstand, but her soul, her essence would not be broken. That was the way of mankind. The body is just a tool, the operator is the very core of who we are and that cannot be broken unless we allow it. 

She silently accepted the offer. And at once she was back in her office. She instinctively knew that she was not alone, the being was guiding her, she could FEEL, not just know, actually feel. She also knew that there were others like her and the world would struggle against them, although that was not the being’s fault. We had been created to have the best of everything, and we had chosen to destroy it when even our own kind warned us of the dangers. There would be mobs that would conspire to stop her, as everyone not understood is, she would be persecuted at every step, but she would not lose heart. That was the human way. That was how we treated unknown knowledge, with fear and trepidation. Soon, the world would know another way, not the only trail, but a choice. Those who chose to accept that path would be shown the glory and what one can truly achieve with their soul to guide them. Others would choose different ways, as they were allowed. They would either learn from their mistakes or they would be doomed to repeat them forever. As she realized the extent of her journey she wondered how long people like her had been roaming the planet, she suspected that this was not a recent decision. She smiled, picked herself up out of the chair and began humming Spring Song as she walked out of the office that would belong to some other soul tomorrow.

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A/N:  I wanted to go back and explain our main girl a little bit... How she got to this point and where it was leading to.  The next chapter is back in present time for dear Sarah.  What is her mission?  Stay tuned to find out.  And as always, like, vote, comment, share!  I want to know what you all think and FEEL, lol. Can't forget those damn feelings!

Chapter Two - Am I Even Alive?

Nine Years Ago

Sarah glanced in the mirror and smiled.  "Well, that should work."  She didn't really feel like going to this so-called lunch with her mother, Jane.  The woman would just ask her once again what she planned on doing once she graduated college next month.  Had she been putting any applications in?  Was she considering opening her own practice?  Just what exactly does  an abnormal psychologist do?  She really had no answers for these questions.  The only thing that she was certain of was that she had wanted answers for all the questions she had about herself growing up.  When she was forced into college by her demanding mother, so that career path seemed to be a way to find those answers.  Now, seven years and a load of debt later she had a degree, but still no answers.  

As soon as she got to the diner and sat down across from her mother she knew she was in for a lecture. 

 "Sarah, why don't you seem to want to do anything with your life?  You graduate in less than five weeks and you don't even have a single interview lined up! I know you didn't accumalate all that debt just to wander around like a lost puppy," her mother declared.

"Mom, I am lost.  I have no idea what I want to do.  I went into this field hoping that I would be able to find myself, and honestly, I don't even know that!  Sometimes I wonder if I'm even alive or if I'm just some bored dream a stanger is having!" Sarah cried out.

"Welcome to the real world, honey.  Everyone goes through a time in their life where they don't know where they're going.  You just have to get off your rump, pull yourself together and make something of yourself,"  Jane stated.

Sarah couldn't tell her this was something that had just happened, she had been like this as long as she could remember.  Even as a child she didn't seem to have any real interest in life.  She loved to read fantastic stories about men and women who had grand adventures.  Slaying dragons, going on quests, discovering new lands, this is what she wanted.  But even the joy from reading a book had diminished to the point where reading seemed like a chore instead of a pleasure.  She had a few friends, but they had slowly seperated themselves from her when she didn't show any interest in their outings.  It wasn't as if she hated being alive, just that she didn't really see what she had to offer anyone, let alone the world.

Sarah never drank, didn't do any illicit drugs, she didn't even smoke.  On the outside she was wholesome and sweet, but deep down she was dead.  There was no fire, no passion, in anything.  Somehow she had gotten through her childhood well enough, not many people noticed the glazed look she wore.  But, this act was getting harder and harder.  Her classmates surely noticed something, they never invited her out to the bars and clubs they seemed to like to frequent, which honestly was a relief to Sarah.  But now she would have to step out into the real world.  What would she do, where would she go?  Questions!  More questions, with no answers.

Two months after the all too familiar lunch with her mother, Sarah had found a job of sorts.  She would be joining a practice with an old family friend at a marriage counseling firm.  Hah!  Marriage counseling.  What did she know of that?  She had never been married, she had only had a string of useless relationships.  Even those didn't last too long, the guys quickly found out they were dating a robot.  A woman who operated on a steady diet of class, work and occasional sex.  Not that the sex was exciting or even good, she only did it out of neccessity to the current man she was dating.  So now she just remained single.  This was where her problem lie, how was she supposed to help the men and women she counseled?  Oh sure, she knew the mechanics of how to help a couple work on their issues, not that she would ever have serious cases in the beginning.  But still, a textbook problem solving exercise wasn't what these people were looking for.  They could get that from any self-help book on the shelf.  No, they wanted what she could not possibly give... How does a marriage last?

Suprisingly, Sarah did well.  She had no idea how to help these poor, bored souls.  Instead she listened to their problems, reiterated what they said and helped them see the dilemma from the outside.  Sure, it was basically what she was told to do the entire time she was in school, but she had always thought there should be more to counseling.  To be candid, she hated marriage counseling.  Helping these people was not what she had intended to do, she wanted to dig deep and help someone who really needed it.  Maybe by doing that she could find the crack in her own disfunction.

But helping Jane and John Q. Pulic had earned her a reputation as a woman who could be trusted to work diligently and truthfully.  Within three short years she was able to start working with a local, state run mental facility as the in house psychologist.  Two years later she was running her own practice, and quite well at that.  The rich and successful families brought their secret problems to her and she helped to either uncover a treatment plan or quietly find the right place for said family members.  Sarah wasn't exactly thrilled.  In fact, you couldn't say she was any form of expression.  She just was.  Nearly a year into her own practice she started having the dreams.  While she could never remember them, she did start to feel.  Anger, hurt, sadness, happiness, joy, they were all finally clear to her.  

She had grown up never understanding why her peers and elders were so controlled by their emotions.  Of course, this may have been due to the fact that she never had any emotions, but that didn't bother her because nothing bothered her.  Well, except for the fact that she couldn't care about anything.  She had been tested to see if she suffered from some form of sociopathy, but all tests had pointed at nothing.  In fact, she had never cared what she would be labeled, she just wanted to feel something, anything.  When the dreams began and she began "absorbing" her clients emotions, she was overwhelmed.  But after a life of being underwhelmed, so to speak, she was happy, yet another sentiment new to her.  At first she was afraid that she was losing her mind.  The sudden onset of drawing the powerful feelings from her clients caused Sarah to believe that she had finally cracked.  

It began to feel like a curse.  While she was pleased that her own reflection in the mirror didn't look like a corpse, she didn't know what to do with all the sensations newly awakened within herself.  Slowly she began to use the knowledge of the consciousnesses to help her clients.  Once she understood what they were feeling she was better able to get to the root of the problem.  Sarah had begun a journal of sorts about each new emotion and what they meant, felt, and did to her mind.  Within a year she had boxes of journals, or notes as she liked to think of them.  When her practice grew and she moved to a new building, she decided that the same should happen in her personal life.  She found a house she felt could be comfortable for her to live and work in.  While she had her office, she often brought her files home and continued her treatment plans there.  She also liked to compare her current journal to the notes she took during a client's session.  She noticed some startling information, not only did she seem to take a part of their emotive responses into herself, they seemed to evolve within her.  She stopped bringing her work home and instead used her personal journals to dissect the emotions she was feeling, how they affected her only, and how to either fix or express them better.

When her lunch mate offered to help her move over their weekly meeting of drinks and a movie, she jumped at the offer.  She wasn't romantically interested in him, but he did seem to understand that she needed a real friend.  And he was a great friend.  Since she had been having the nightmares and began realizing the emotion within herself she knew that she needed someone to lean on.  Jon had been her wall, the Great Wall of Sarah, she called him.  There for her to bounce ideas off of, relax into, and just generally block out the screams in her own mind.  He also happened to love hearing her talk about her theory of emotion control.  As a book agent, he had heard all kinds of ideas about every new age self-help idea, and Sarah's didn't seem that far fetched.  Everyone controls their emotions, even if they go overboard with them, they do so willingly.  Yes, not all were conscience of it, but still some part of them did it.  Little did she know that he wanted her to go public with her hypothesis.  And when he just happened to knock over a box of journals he found his way to convince Sarah, too.

She didn't know that people don't understand themselves.  She thought that she alone was confused.  Jon knew that Sarah lived in her own little reality, but he wasn't aware how deep inside herself she was.  Seeing her notes, scribbles and jots of the breakdown for each thought process was fascinating.  She not only felt the emotions, she was trying to decipher how, why, when and where they fit into her life.  This is exactly what people were looking for when they went to a therapist.  Not that they were crazy or sane, just why they felt the way they did and how to help or hinder that feeling.  How could he know how deeply she felt these things?  Little did he know that there were times where the desperation for peace was so deluging that she felt ripped apart inside by someone else's pain, suffering, anguish, torment, hate, envy, and greed.  Or that there were times that she felt almost high from a passerby's love, joy, exhuberance, serenity, and ecstasy.

Jon spoke with a few contacts he had in the industry and sent the responses to Sarah.  She was floored, this level of emotion was normal?  Eventually he had talked her into a book contract and she had become an "overnight" success seven years in the making.   But the passions were getting worse, or better, depending on the day.  She seemed to come into contact with worse and worse emotions.  Hatred was a constant companion.  Envy, fear, confusion, they were close neighbors.  Days would fly by where she literally felt that one more person's agony would be her undoing.  The happy days seemed to be over.  While she was glad that she could be a buffer for these people's own worst thoughts, she didn't know that she was the right person for the job.  But she would not have reliquenshed it for all the gold in the sea.  Finally able to appreciate a warm, fuzzy feeling was all the reward she needed, and if she had to endure all the pain in the world, she would.

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Author's Note

A/N: This is just an idea that I had a few years ago and started writing it. It sat there for a while and recently the same thoughts that started it way back when began tumbling through my head again. Now, the story can end here, or I can continue it on. I have several ideas about where it can go, but no definite idea on where it will go for sure, (I have 5 more chapters about this same size finished as of today). Stories have a way of creeping inside your brain and taking over, changing themselves to how they want to be told. So.... if you guys think that you want to read more about this and find out who the woman in the story really is and what's going on, comment, fan, like, tell your friends and let me know. If you think it should end here, let me know that , too! Either way, i am going to keep writing it, if only for myself.

+/- Greyson

Reviews

[Greyson Janeese]

Thanks! It means so much that people are reading it. I didn't know if it was any good, lol.

[Shay]

nice job with all the raw emotions