Jessica put her pen down and rubbed her eyes, glancing at the clock on her cell phone. 3A.M. It was as bright as day.

The city burned. She was one of a few left; those who had magic were ordered to stay behind and guard the gate. She could see it from the window of her hideout. The gate was about four stories tall and charcoal black. With the towering inferno behind it, it might as well have been the Gate to Hell.

The radio beside her reported that the last train of evacuating civilians had been destroyed just outside the city.

Jessica picked up the pen again and wrote one final line before closing the journal and tucking it into her cargo pocket:

I should have asked her earlier.

The door flew open and a woman with short blonde hair burst into the room. “Jess! The gate – it’s open!”

Jessica stood up and removed the safety on her pistol. “Then I suppose we don’t have much time, Nikki.” The woman nodded and they left the building together.

The run to the gate was full of the horrid kind of silence filled with things left unsaid. Jessica had always been an optimist, but lately she had been wondering if you could still have regrets after you die. “Listen, Nikki, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she said over the sound of their feet pounding on the pavement.

“There’ll be time for that later. We’re going to get out of here alive.” Nikki reassured her.

“But-” Jessica started, but she was interrupted by the sight of what was pouring out of the gate.

Thousands of demons fled the gate that was now open wide like a hideous, fanged mouth. They were black, and winged, with sharp talons. They flew out in such large numbers that they looked like one massive shadow. Their high-pitched battle cries pierced through the night like a knife and rang in Jessica’s ears.

“Do we run?” Nikki asked.

Jessica nodded. “Most of the mages were at that gate. Think they’re still alive?”

“You’re right,” Nikki said. “We’d be marching to our deaths.”

They sat in silence as the demon horde flew toward them.

“Wait,” Nikki said suddenly. “What about that portal the Corps found earlier? Think it works?”

Jessica brightened. “We don’t have much of a choice but to find out. Let’s make haste.”

They ducked into an alley and moved from one city block to the next in the relative shadow of the buildings, dodging debris and smaller fires that had broken out. Occasionally a dark shape would pass overhead and they would pray in silence that it would not notice them.

At last they reached an unmarked building that had thankfully been untouched by the riots. Jessica tried the lock. “No good.” Her hands glowed with fire and she reached for the lock, but Nikki grabbed her wrists and the flame went out.

Nikki smiled. “You were never one for the delicate approach,” she said, reaching in her pockets for a lock pick. “You’ll draw attention if you try to melt the lock,” she warned as she knelt down and tampered with the lock.

Jessica sighed and waited, keeping watch on the street around them. She heard a click and the door swung open. They crept in, taking care to close the door quietly behind them.

Because of this, they did not see the dark figure landing on the street nearby.

The first thing they noticed was that the building had no power. Jessica held a tiny fire in her palm; it was just enough to see by. The second thing they noticed was that there were a lot of stairs. They descended eight flights of stairs before they reached a heavy door. Jessica pushed it open. She shielded her eyes against the sudden brightness of the portal.

“At least it’s still working,” Nikki said. “Must be powered by a magical source.”

They approached it slowly, and Nikki placed a hand against the swirling energy timidly. Her fingertips pressed against it. “Hmm…” she mused, “must have to be activated from another source.”

They looked around the room until they spotted a small pedestal with what appeared to be a button. “Here goes nothing,” Jessica said, and pressed it. The ground shook and the portal seemed to grow brighter.

At that moment, the door burst open and flew off its hinges. A primal roar echoed across the room. The dark beast stomped toward them. Jessica grabbed her pistol and fired several rounds into it, but it didn’t seem to notice. She shot a burst of flames from her hand instead, but it also ignored her attempts to injure it. In a flash it was upon them, and threw Nikki across the room. The wall cracked with the force of her impact against it. Jessica paled.

The demon lunged at Jessica, but she leapt away just in time to avoid being grabbed. She inched backwards, toward the portal. She looked desperately toward Nikki.

Nikki’s expression would haunt Jessica for the rest of her life. “You go,” Nikki said.

“No.”

The demon approached Jessica menacingly.

“Do it. Maybe you can find someone wherever that portal leads who can help,” Nikki insisted.

“No. I’m not leaving you.”

“I’ll destroy the portal behind you so they can’t follow you. Then I’ll escape, find out where you went, and come after you. Just wait and see. I’m right behind you.”

“NO! I said I’m not leaving you! I love you…”

Nikki stood and shook her head. “I love you too, babe. And that’s why I have faith that you’ll come back with help.”

The demon charged. Nikki was faster. Jessica couldn’t stop Nikki from shoving her into the portal. The last thing she saw was a tear running down Nikki’s cheek as she blasted the portal’s control panel with her own bright orange energy.

Jessica landed roughly on a patch of soft grass. She appeared to be in a park. The sun shone in a bright blue sky. She could see skyscrapers, and trees, and cars, and people. She sat on the grass and waited for Nikki to come through the portal behind her.

She waited forever.

And despite making my settings very, very private, I still get robots trying to get me to have cybersex with them.

Sometimes, I feel compelled to troll them.

(Disclaimer: This conversation is crude in places and is not recommended for younger audiences. Move along, please.)

Spambot 4:39 pm
how’s it going? havent talked to you in awhile.. lol

D.C. Andrews 4:39 pm
Does “in a while” mean “never”?

Spambot 4:39 pm
do you remember me?.., it’s Stephanie.

D.C. Andrews 4:40 pm
Last name?

Spambot 4:40 pm
Stephanie

D.C. Andrews 4:40 pm
Your name is Stephanie Stephanie? That’s unfortunate.

Spambot 4:41 pm
Stephanie

D.C. Andrews 4:41 pm
I don’t even know how to respond to this.

D.C. Andrews 4:43 pm
My name is Elizabeth R. Kennedy II. I wish I had more time to talk, but I am about to climb into my space shuttle that will take me to the moon for the ultimate goal of starting a colony. The human race needs to expand – and the universe will be our playground!

Spambot 4:44 pm
i wish i could put you face in between my tits!

D.C. Andrews 4:44 pm
Should I die, I would like to give you my life savings of $10,000,000,952.03

Spambot 4:44 pm
not much here just got out of the shower went to the gym today

D.C. Andrews 4:45 pm
Are you fat.
Only fat people and celebrities go to gyms.

Spambot 4:45 pm
i gotta question do you like a girl with big tits? or do you prefer a girl with a fat ass..

D.C. Andrews 4:46 pm
If I say one that you don’t have, will you change into one like a Ditto?

Spambot 4:48 pm
im loading my cam now

D.C. Andrews 4:48 pm
My daddy said he’s loading his rifle.
We’ll see who finishes first.

D.C. Andrews 4:50 pm
You said you were going to show me your penis. :/
I’m calling the cops.

Spambot 4:50 pm
you cumming? im really wet ;x
hahaha!  call em! and tell them you are reporting a felony…  YOUR MULLET!!  You might wanna get that looked at!

D.C. Andrews 4:51 pm
Did you learn that in college back in the 80′s?

Spambot 4:51 pm
let me know when you’re in babe..

D.C. Andrews 4:52 pm
You’re too ugly. :/
I’m sure even virtual connections would give me 18 STDs and cancer.

Spambot 4:52 pm
k

Spambot 4:54 pm
ofcourse babe, just need to verify age but yes its free
you in yet?

D.C. Andrews 4:56 pm
That’s what she said.

After this, I was blocked.

1) They don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. 

This one’s way too common. I have several non-artist friends who will occasionally take swings at my preference for digital art. They’ll say things like “Why don’t you paint?” or “Why are you limiting yourself?”

Okay. Back up. First off, I’ve tried painting. I was bad at it, and I didn’t like it, and no, I don’t want to practice. I’m not giving up. I just don’t like it. I don’t understand how people don’t get that. I don’t like something they enjoy, so I must be wrong and am just chickening out.

As for limiting myself, I don’t care. I enjoy what I do. Life is short. So let me enjoy it.

2) They insist that everything must be done for profit.

What? No. This one barely deserves a response. Countless friends have told me that my work is pointless because I don’t get paid for it. I actually did take commissions for a while. I hated it because of the stress involved in trying to make something perfect. I’m not looking for perfection. I’m looking for personal satisfaction.

3) They tailor their suggestions to fit their own desires.

This is the worst one. The tailored suggestion comes off as a sincere gesture of encouragement, but eventually degrades into a cleverly disguised request. And it’s fairly common. “Your blog should be about [insert subject here]. I’d like to read a blog about that.”

Some people also claim that my posts are too short. They want to read something over a thousand words. Well, 90% of the internet has an attention span of about twenty seconds, and every time I see TL;DR, I want to punch someone in the neck.

Who knows? Maybe these guys are secretly experts in the field. Wait…

No. They’re just being dicks. Their arguments are invalid.

So, Miranda, as our guest, I think it’s fair that you ask the first question.

Thanks, Casey. I’d like to begin with a question about your family. I hear your daughter is a rather potent psychic, but refused to join the government program for the gifted. Is she seeking private training elsewhere?

Well Miranda, I’m glad you asked! My daughter is very special indeed, and I am proud that she is quite interested in registering for a highly prestigious program. She is currently awaiting a response from Mistress Mental regarding her training…

Rena Sterling turned off the radio in disgust. The sudden silence brought to light the unbearable chatter inside her head. She heard the internal monologues of every mind within a wide radius. Each day she grew stronger, adding more voices to her head as her “listening” radius grew wider. She tried to distract herself from the voices as she put an oversized purple hooded sweater on over her black tank top and denim shorts and headed outside into the warm summer day, still fuming from the lies being spewed over the airwaves.

She walked down the streets of the small Midwestern town, absently heading toward a large carnival nearby. As she passed men on the streets, she groaned as she unwillingly heard their thoughts. Nice ass. I’d do her any day.

She hastened her pace slightly to avoid those thoughts when she caught another, far more malicious thought. Two men were planning on baiting a teenage girl into an alleyway, with the intent of having their way with her. Something urged Rena to just move on. It wasn’t her problem, after all.

She couldn’t pinpoint the source of the malicious thoughts, but she could see their target. A tiny blonde girl wearing a skirt so short it might have actually been a belt, along with a white tube top that revealed her midriff, was walking several feet in front of Rena. Dressed like that, she’ll get what she’s asking for, Rena thought as she resumed trying to tune out the thoughts of those around her.

To her chagrin, Rena found the men turning their thoughts onto her. “Forget the skinny little blonde. That brunette there has some curves,” one of them whispered. The other nodded, and they trained their thoughts on how to best lure her into a secluded area. Rena decided to play along and stepped into an alley. The men followed her, as she expected them to.

“Hey little lady. Need some help?” one of the thugs asked, feigning gentleness.

Rena forced herself to look scared and confused. “Please. I’m lost.”

“We’ll take you home,” the other thug said. “For a price,” he added.

“I’m sorry, but I have no money to repay you…” Rena said, mentally preparing herself.

“Oh, we don’t want money,” the first thug said as he stepped closer to her, drawing a knife from his vest. “We just want you.”

Rena’s false expression of fear became one of smug confidence. “That’s what I thought. Wanna play, boys? I’ll give you the time of your life.”

The thugs grinned arrogantly, amused by the small woman’s change in attitude. The second thug laughed. “Come now, we like it better when you struggle.”

“Do you, now?” Rena said coolly. A small smile played across her lips as she plunged into the recesses of her mind, finding a small source of power that she usually tried to suppress. Here, however, it would save her rather than be a curse. Before the thugs knew what hit them, they were writhing on the ground, reliving the very nightmares they had enacted, viewed from the eyes of their hapless victims. Rena stepped over the bodies of the thugs after pocketing the money they had on them.

She continued walking, and she soon spotted the purple circus tents pitched in a clearing between apartment complexes. She didn’t have plans, and a carnival was as good a distraction as any. She paid her admission using some of the money she had acquired from the thugs.

Outside the largest tent, some acrobats were warming up, doing cartwheels and flips in front of a gathering audience. Rena joined the crowd of onlookers, watching the performers in awe.

“Hey, you there,” a masculine voice called out from behind her. Rena spun around, instantly spotting a rotund man in a black tux, puffing on a cigar. Standing up, he only reached Rena’s shoulders. “Nice legs you got there.”

Rena tensed, but quickly realized that he was speaking in a business sense, unlike the thugs. “Thanks, I suppose,” she said tersely.

“Hey, lighten up! My name’s Joe. Joe Stiegel.”

“Like the casino?” Rena asked absently.

“What?” Joe asked, scratching his balding head.

“Nothing.”

“Huh,” he said, taking a puff from his cigar. “Anyway, lass, I wasn’t saying that just to say it. I don’t do that, and my wife is far prettier than you anyway. What I meant was you look like you have some strong legs. I can smell hidden talent a mile away. Ever think about being one of them?” he gestured toward the two acrobats thanking the smitten audience for their compliments.

Rena examined them thoughtfully. “Perhaps. They seem… happy.”

Joe smiled. “Well, everybody loves them! Who wouldn’t be?” He fished a business card out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. “Here’s my card. I do hope we meet again soon,” he said, flashing a toothy, yellowed grin at Rena. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name,” he added.

“It’s Rena.”

“Pretty. Well, you take care now, you hear? Farewell,” he tipped his hat and walked off to compliment the acrobats.

Rena turned the card over and over, as if it were a piece of a complicated jigsaw puzzle.

What did she have to lose?

I’ve had my heart broken before. Who hasn’t? But when I look back on it objectively, I’m responsible most of the time.

Two and a half years ago, I fell madly in love with a man that to this day I believe was perfect for me. We had our differences. Big differences that would crush any other relationship. We didn’t give a crap. We didn’t play the game – we won it from the start. We had everything. Two years into it, I was hopelessly unhappy and I had no idea why. I started to rationalize it – maybe he could have communicated better, maybe he could have accepted my beliefs (or lack thereof) a little more. But maybe, just maybe, I was selling myself out and I resented him for it. I was doing what I thought I had to do, without considering that he would have loved me either way.

I took the easy way and it bit me in the ass.

For the first week after we broke up, I felt relieved, like I could finally be myself.

A few months after that, I realized I was back in the game. And the game is all about holding yourself back so you don’t scare anyone off. Letting yourself show a little at a time, instead of all at once. I’m bad at that. I want someone to take me as I am, immediately. They’d better love me right now while I’m fat and love me more when I’m fit and love me even more when I grow old and get fat again. I won’t put on make-up for a date. I won’t pretend I’m not a huge nerd. I won’t hide my sexual preferences. I am me.

And I’m also apparently deathly afraid of pursuing any small feeling I might have. Everything passes.

And so it’s a relief that I have a crush on someone right now, because I am feeling something. It’s a huge change for me. Means that at last, I am moving on. So I don’t even care whether or not if they reciprocate. Because I am back in the game.

Besides, if I chase them, I might fall for them. And that is the terrifying part.

But for me, it’s hard not to get wrapped up in the politics, wondering how a hospital can build a new wing while continuing to lay off staff. Hourly rounds have become once-in-a-while rounds. The halls are empty. Everything is wrapped in an uncomfortable dullness. Not at all like my hospital stay mere months ago, where the halls were full of life.

When my sister leaves, I wonder who will take her place. Will they be able to breathe easier, knowing that they now have insurance? It was a major problem for me: I had gone to that place to heal, but I was so stressed and worried about what my financial situation would be like when I left.

These are the plagues of the mind for a patient. When they are discharged, one battle ends but another begins.

I especially love how at one point, Cooper completely loses it and bursts out laughing. You can even hear his crew laughing!

Sometimes the best comedy is real life.

So I just wanted to inform you that I’m in this for real this time. No, really. I mean it. You can stop laughing now.

This blog will likely contain random musings on life, love, and tidbits I find in the news and around the ‘net. I’ll also occasionally talk about books and my writing, which is really the whole point of this blog.

See you around!