Save Yourself

save yourself image

Here’s a little blurb I wrote as apart of a challenge, but I really enjoyed typing it up (“writing” it), and thought why not share it with my peoples? Please read it and leave any thoughts!

                As the cool heat of the liquid hit my lips, I replay events that continuously flash through my mind. My body barely ached, as a matter of fact, it never does. But I’m constantly putting it through the ringer day in and day out, giving myself this impression that I’m never truly present, a notion that leaves me feeling like I’m always on the run, always on the move. I get so mentally exhausted and run down by these thoughts. But I know it’s no use feeling this way, especially when I’m the only one in my city who can save it. Slamming a guy here, choking another guy there, throwing a car half a football field away from a small child. All of this to just hide away when it’s all over. I whine incessantly, but I know this is the way it has to be—the safest way for me to coexist with the people who don’t know me, because I’ve seen what happens to those who save others. The one time you let them down they never forget it, and they never forget you for it. It turns into a love-hate relationship, and not one that is back and forth, no. It’s one where half of them love you, and understand, but the other half? You can never make things right again. Never.

              I remember a conversation that I was having with…her name doesn’t matter, I just remember her, and I remember our conversation so vividly. “You can’t save everyone. Sometimes, you just have to save the one person that matters most: yourself. Please try to remember that the next time you start getting down on yourself, okay?” I remember nodding, but I couldn’t stop beating myself up about the incident that changed my life, and a family’s lives forever.

             I also remember the family and their rants, the disappointment, the yelling and screaming on top of the cries and rage. I remember the blood soaked pavement, the arm still outstretched as if reaching for a savior—the arm attached to the broken body. When the body hit the ground, it was like watching a mannequin break but the body still held together by…flesh.

“You could’ve caught her, you could’ve saved her!”

“You’re no hero!”

“Fuck you!!”

              “If you’re listening out there, where ever you are, you’re no hero,” said the most popular talk show host in the country on her primetime morning show the next day. Her face was a sneer, full-on anger searing through the tv screen. Her eyes were glazed with fresh tears, but her hatred seemed more realer than the tears. “You’re just some person with abilities, abilities you barely use. And for all these ‘powers’ you possess, you couldn’t be where you were counted the most to be. You. Are. No. Hero. I hope you heard me, and heard me clearly.”

               I couldn’t say she was wrong. I couldn’t say she was right. Her cameramen and producers, writers, and the rest of her staff damn sure weren’t going to tell her any different. Who was I to say differently? I listened. I watched her show that day, and I let her defiant words hit me where it meant to. It pierced more than any bullet, it cut through more than any knife to me hearing her say those things, seeing the look in her eyes. She wasn’t the main reason I decided they didn’t need me around as much anymore. I made the decision all on my own, all because of that crumpled mass of human that laid on that pavement.

                I still helped. Help. I still let the human in me continue doing the best that I can with what was given to me through some miracle, or phenomenon. I still enjoyed making sure some old lady wasn’t mugged by some punks, took them down and made sure she got her bag back. I still enjoyed making sure kids weren’t harmed by an accident, and I made sure to steal myself away as well, back into the shadows as soon as my good deed was accomplished. It was all I could do to ensure that I wasn’t on the news or the internet anymore. If the would-be victim wanted to talk, they could, but I didn’t want to stick around for that. I retreated back to my hideout, and I made sure no one knew where I lived. That as well was important to me. I, too, needed a safe haven, and my apartment was it; far away and on the outskirts of the city where no one who knew me personally would come looking is where I chose to be. It was safer for everyone that way.

            Most nights, I drank. I drink to forget, but always end up remembering, sulking. I become a lump of wallowing. I do this even when I’ve had a good night, even when someone is no longer being hurt. I make sure they’re safe, but inside I know I’m just going to die a little as soon as I get comfortable and alone.

            I drink to forget. But she always visits me. She smiles, and I stop crying for that brief moment. She comforts me with her words and that beaming in her eyes. “Hey big guy, what you crying for?”

“I miss you,” I whimper, tears spilling down my chin.

           She walks over to me, her smile warming me down to my toes. She touches my shoulder and leans down in front of me, her hand resting on my shoulder, and her other hand casually caressing my hand that held the bottle of Irish whiskey. “I’m always with you, you know that. I haven’t gone anywhere. Remember what I told you?”

I nod. “How can I forget?”

             She sighed, pressing her cheek onto mine, and she felt so much like home, so real. “Even the strong need a break, need a moment. And you feel. You have to remember that you’re human, too, just different. You can’t save everyone. Sometimes, you just have to save the one person that matters most: yourself. Please try to remember that when you’re sitting here, drinking this poison, okay?”

            What she said, what I remember her saying, breaks me down. The tears stream down my face, hiccups become uncontrollable. “B-but you m-m-mattered most to me! YOU! And I couldn’t…I-I couldn’t s-s-s-save you!!”

              The chair barely held me as I shook with pitiful sobs. She leaned back to look me in my face as her smile began to waver, then vanished as blood poured down her face. In complete horror, I pushed away from the vision, bottle falling from my hand as I stood up abruptly. “Amina, AMINA!! NO!” Then off in the distance, I could hear a menacing chorus of laughter. I balled up my fists, rage filling me up more and more with every second that passed. That laugh that kept feeding my hate, fueling my need to keep fighting on the good side as long as I could. That laugh that stole my Amina from me, and the laugh that I was going to find and choke the life out of.


Bon Voyage, 2017! We won’t miss you!

Free at last, free at last!

We made it through the year. Some of us faring better than others, but here we are nonetheless. I barely made it, and I sincerely mean that. The end of the final week of 2017 brought many, many sick people. Unfortunately, I became one of them, and rung in the New Year Eve with snores and horrid coughs. I didn’t even make it to midnight, that’s how sad it was. Even so, the morning brought me my sense of smell back so I was very happy about that.

I’ve had plenty of rest since being sick since this past Thursday, so I’m feeling a little better. I even woke up in a more positive mood (going from immobile and incapacitated to feeling normal will do that), and had this voice in my head saying, “No more struggling.” It wasn’t ominous. It was more like a promise, as if to say the worst is over and better is arriving. I took that thought and almost let it fade away. I knew I had to keep that going like a mantra though because I truly do need it. 2017 had been an incredibly harsh year for me. I was beginning to think I had done something so horribly wrong that I was just receiving from karma for whatever it was I had done. I knew I didn’t really do anything wrong, except for maybe make a snap decision or two, but other than that I really hadn’t done anything that warranted such a weird year for me. And yet, I can look back and say at least the latter half wasn’t all so bad.

Sure, I struggled, but I also published my first book. That’s one great thing I did! My personal life was pretty golden as well (wasn’t bad at all actually, and still isn’t), my son is still my little maniac whom I love dearly, and my niece is beautiful and healthy! I’m embarking on a new journey of doing what I love without being scared. I have goals I want to achieve, and I’ve learned I can do everything I set myself to doing. It’s me that has to move out of the way and let myself flourish. The ending of 2017 showed me that, and I can carry that all the way through into this new year. I do not have any resolutions, I never really do. I find when I do that, I usually lose the list somewhere, or I don’t take it serious anyway. So instead, I’m going to do what I gotta do without talking too much about it, and just do it. I tend to perform much better that way. I’m dedicated to myself being my best self, and I know it’s coming. For now, I’m going to wish everyone a Happy New Year, best of luck in everything you do, and don’t stop striving! P.S. While you’re here, check out what I HAVE been getting into the latter part of this year with the link here:

and here:







First of Many!

Exciting news!!

The excerpts are no longer just excerpts and extensions of the story I’ve been working on for quite some time. It’s now a fully realized ebook!

That’s correct, it is now an ebook. It is published, and I couldn’t be happier. It’s one of my prouder moments in my life, as I didn’t think I’d ever see it through to completion, but here I am. Here we are. A completed piece of work.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to even publish it frankly. I thought I’d just keep it on my laptop, saved, never to be seen – I was wrong. I was braver than I gave myself credit for. I normally don’t share too much, but I felt like I needed to pull up my big girl underwear and make it do what it do! I am so happy that I made that decision on a late night and just pushed. I’m going to continue to see all of my endeavors through. From henceforth, I will no longer hold back out of fear of the unknown. I will push myself to the edge, and just dive.

‘Voices on the Air’ is available on Amazon Kindle, and it’s my baby! I just birthed a book baby! So please have at it, and express your thoughts on this so that I can continue to grow into the author I want to be.

‘Voices on the Air’ Amazon Kindle

When She’s Done, What’s Next?

Well, I’ve done it.

I have done it! I’ve managed to finish a story! In all of my years of being someone who loves to create little stories here and there, I’ve never finished them, ever! I’ve started them, and they’ve sounded amazing, but then they just sort of died. Sad little deaths. I’ve allowed the stories to disappear in my head; characters wiped clean from my mind, their world: gone. I would move on to something else because that’s how I used to work. Very fleeting, barely there. I would be quickly inspired by something else and that’s all it took for me.

I love to imagine characters and build a story about them as much as I can, immediately. I never ease into it, I used to always just dive right in. With this, however, I wanted to try and take my time. And so I did. Two years worth. On and off, like a relationship that was almost not going to make it but now here we are – married.

Melded perfectly and accepting one another in all of glory and dirt. Except, like me, she needs some work. She needs some internal work, so we’re going to fix her up. We’re going to make her better. She’s great right now, but it feels like she can definitely benefit from having some things added or cut. She’s in the process of seeing someone about that right now. I’m going to be there to hold her hand through it out and watch the beauty come shining through. And I’ve made this strange now…

Moving on! I said all of that to say that I managed to do something I didn’t think I knew I could do. But I made it happen and I’ve had some sleepy (yes, sleepy, because I definitely stayed up later than I should have, but I still got some sleep so no sleepless nights just yet caused by writing) nights. Yet it was all worth it though, because now I can breathe easy knowing I did it. I do feel an odd sense of accomplishment because of it. I feel like I can complete anything now, and that’s really good to hear because I’m still in the process of finishing up junior college to obtain my degree! But it makes me feel really good. I feel solid. I’ve made one of my characters come to an actual end of her story, but I intend on making it into a series so she’s not done yet, not for a while. I’m not done, but just the beginning of it is laid down. The foundation is there. I’m going to keep building on it. And I want to take you all along for the ride.