Lenore’s Energy

Vampire fiction covers the spectrum of literary work concerned principally with the subject of vampires. After doing a little research I thought I would write about a Psi. Intentional Psychic Vampires are humans who possess great telepathic abilities. They use these abilities to knowingly draw the life force from others. Then there is the unintentional psychic vampire as well. Throw in a little love and evil and I have an outline for a longer story! But here is my letter V topic for the A to Z Challenge.


When you think of ‘vampire’ you probably go to a blood-sucking monster that preys on humans during the night or how about the ones that are vegan and glitter in sunlight? There are many categories of vampires but the ones that everyone thinks about are the bloodsuckers. No, I was neither and did love a good picnic at the beach or a hike in the woods. I don’t have fangs, I looked great in a mirror, and died a mortal death. Yes, now I’m immortal just not in human form. I’m something called an earthbound spirit and no that’s not a ghost.

When I was alive, I was told that I was a Psi either because I was abused as a child, lost my way with God, or was extremely ill as a child. I never lost my way with God because my mother drugs me to mass every Sunday, Wednesday confession, and any other church activity she thought I needed. I wasn’t abused when I was little. Hell, my father would’ve killed anyone that put their hands on me. Nope, I was extremely ill when I was two until the age of five. This ultimately was my ending but also part of the reason why I did and can do what can do. For three years I was bedridden, ran fevers, lived off of bone broths and mashed potatoes that my mother and grandmother would cook. My father would take me to a special park in the middle of the woods that he had built just so I could play away from other children. I wasn’t lonely by any means. My father presented me with a Rottweiler puppy when I was two and were inseparable.

I didn’t live off of other people’s blood but needed energy. I had my own energy but I was drained so easily. That’s when my grandmother insisted that I have visitors and usually set up play dates with someone that was younger than me. ‘We don’t want her to get hurt with older children. This way they are more equal in health.’ Seemed like a legitimate argument. During our playdates, the children would wear out easily and that’s when we had lunch and then napped in separate rooms. The children would wake refreshed and they went home shortly after napping. As I got older I wasn’t forced to play with anyone and was able to choose my own friends. Over time I noticed that the teens that I would hang out with would get tired and start to doze off. I was already in several car wrecks because the drivers would fall asleep at the wheel. That’s when I learned to take public transportation or ride my bike.

It wasn’t until my grandmother had gotten old and frail and decided to tell me what she knew about my special ability.
‘Lenore, sweetheart, I need to tell you something about yourself that you didn’t know. Please keep an open mind. I’m telling you this because it will help you in the future. First and foremost, when I die do not mourn me being gone. I’m not going to be gone just in a different form. There are many of us in this world both human form and earthbound entities. We are what people call a Psi or energy vampire. We drain energies from people. It’s more of a curse than a gift and it only happens to people that have had something significant happen to them when they were young or something self-induced that changes how their energy flows.’

This all made sense to me considering I learned after my first serious relationship where I was intimate for the first time. Afterward, I felt like I could run two marathons but my boyfriend could barely move. I noticed that when I was around certain people they would start yawning and I felt more alive and creative. She explained that we can astral project ourselves while people sleep and gain energy that way. It’s the safest for the other individual because their energy replenishes as they sleep. They may be a little tired in the morning but are healthy. She assured me that what we do isn’t fatal and we are not like the ‘movie’ vampires everyone thinks off. ‘When we die, our energy survives this world and we continue to seek out energy. After some of us pass we become guides for spirits to pass onto the other side or we protect human life from evil entities. Whatever paths you choose remember to always feed off the sleeping.

My grandmother’s funeral was beautiful and I talked to her every night, learning about being a Psi. I have to admit my funeral was beautiful too. I didn’t have a family for fear of my body taking my children’s energy but had a great love in my life. He never seemed to age nor was I able to take his energy. I watch over him decade after decade and he hasn’t found another love since I left my physical body. But that’s for a different story about two different species of vampires falling in love. For now, my energy lives on as I protect the living from some of the evilest spirits anyone has ever come in contact with.


Jo/© thecreativeptsdgal.wordpress.com

Permanent Mistake

Here we are at the letter I of the A to Z challenge. I novel, Japanese watakushi shōsetsu, or shishōsetsu, form or genre of 20th-century Japanese literature that is characterized by self-revealing narration, with the author usually as the central character. The first and most important rule is it’s often written from the first person perspective (and this is where the “I” of I-Novel comes from). Obviously, I can’t write a whole novel but I can do a short-nonfiction. I have many profound memories and circumstances that have happened in my life from my first, ‘I Do,’ to the first breath my first born ever took. I stopped and took many breaks during this. There is one I rarely discuss. Names have been changed as this does cover the sensitive matter.


We all have first loves, true loves, platonic loves, and soulmates. They all come in our lives teaching us some sort of lesson, I just didn’t realize my lessons from Axle were until I was a lot older. I used to think that my first love was also my soul mate. What do you expect from a teenager? We first met in kindergarten. Axel loved the cupcakes my mom would make for my class birthday treat so we became fast friends. We grew up through the years and in middle school, he asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I still get butterflies after all these years thinking about the day he asked me out.

We were insuperable. The first time he came to meet my family my dad was sitting at the table cleaning his gun and sharpening his knives. I don’t know how Axle did it but he sat down and asked my dad if he needed any help. That moment I realized he could read a situation but my father saw that Axle was going to be an important part of my life. Axle was my first kiss, my first argument with a boy, the first reason I really cried, we were in a car wreck together and he even had to take my side over his childhood friend’s aggravated opinion of me. He was also my first breakup.

That should have been my lesson. Learn to move on, accept pain, grow from it, and evaluate myself. That wasn’t it. Over the next couple of years we both dated other people and grew apart. It was a fall day and I had just gotten out of band and needed to rush home to get ready for work. Axle stopped and asked if I needed help carrying my flute and books. I was stunned and handed my books over into his arms. He never just came out of the blue and asked if I needed. It was mostly a nod or even an occasional, ‘hi, Jo’.

We walked beside each other in silence at first, then he asked, ‘You know, I’ve missed being able to talk to you. You understand everything I’ve been through and why I act in a certain way or do certain things.’ I could feel dread flooding over me. I was worried. He was the one that found his father after he shot himself. ‘I’ve been here, you just chose not to talk to me. I tried many times but you were either busy, embarrassed by me, or with your flavor of the week.’ I remember biting my lip. I knew I sounded like a bitter ex but face it, I was. ‘I miss you, Jo.’ My feet stopped moving and all I could do was stare. He walked over and put his arms around me. I felt so stupid as my face grew hot and tears started running. I couldn’t make them stop. ‘SHH, it’s ok Jo. Our break-up wasn’t because of anything you did. It was because of me. I couldn’t lose you so in my mind you would always be safe.’ Yup, you guessed it, I cried harder.

We started walking again and I asked him about his new girlfriend and that’s when he stopped. See, his girlfriend had parents that were never around, she stole and was into drugs. I’m not talking about marijuana but cocaine was her poison of choice. I also knew that she introduced her lifestyle to Axle and he spiraled down fast. ‘She’s good,’ he replied. ‘Then why are you here with me?’ I asked. ‘Truth is Jo, Lisa’s drug habit is getting worse and I don’t want to break up with her until she get’s help.’ ‘You can’t help anyone that doesn’t want to help themselves.’ And at this point folks, this is where I fucked up. Instead of seeing that he was actually reaching out for me to help him I did this, ‘Axle, I miss you and I wish we could spend time together but I need to get to work.’ I gave him a hug and told him that I would see him after work or that better yet he can come and get a burger on me. He gave me a hug, ‘She’s not you. I love you, Jo,’ and those were the last words he would ever whisper in my ears.

That night I waited and hoped that he would walk in for a burger but customers came and went but no Axle. I asked the cook to make a burger for me to go. I was going to stop by Axle’s house so we can talk but my plan never came to be. I pulled into his driveway just in time to see my first love’s body in a body bag and put into the back of the ambulance. At that moment, there was no sound, no taste, no time. His mom was on the front porch in a fetal position in Axle’s older brother’s lap. I couldn’t move except for engaging my 5 speed into reverse and then 1st to start heading home. I got home and my father was already on the porch waiting for me.

I ran to the one man that always made me feel safe. ‘Axle’s brother called, you have a note but  I figured you couldn’t wait so here is what it said:
Jo, I didn’t know how to escape the drugs, unhappiness, and Lisa. I love you and will always love you. Live the life you want not what someone else wants.
Axle.’ My father handed me the note he scribbled on a paper towel.

I didn’t leave my room for a week and I couldn’t bring myself to go to the funeral. I later learned that Axle was high on cocaine and needed gas for his car and started to siphon some out of his neighbors which led to him going to his room to take some pills. If I had called in, if I had talked to him, if I had only told him that I love him and miss him too he might still be here today. We may not be together and I would have been ok with that. At least he would still be here. Later, Axle’s older brother came in the burger place I worked and asked if he could talk to me in private. ‘Here is the note Axle wrote for you.’ My mouth went dry, ‘I can’t take that. It’ll make everything real.’ Looking back that was a selfish move on my part. He lives his ‘real’ every day.’ He gave me a hug and told me he understood.

I learned to listen when people are asking for help without asking. I learned that time doesn’t heal, it just makes the pain easier to deal with. I learned to accept that I failed my first love. I learned that a goodbye can be permanent.

6 Word Story: 4/5

After an awful night, today is getting a little better. I have 3 Pit Bull babies as my nurses and my husband left my laptop in arms reach. So far, the pups have protected me from the mailman and the garbage collector and my laptop is on low battery. I will start with my 6-word story and lay down for a bit more. Then, I’ll try and tackle me A to Z challenge but no promises.


Prompt Word: Ballgame

‘I love you,’ What a game-changer.

 

Swallow Hope

Legend has it that swallows were a sailor’s land omen, or at least that’s how my grandmother’s story went. I would ask my grandmother, ‘Tell me how you and pawpaw met again,’ and she would tuck me in and sit in the rocker beside my bed. ‘Swallows let sailors know if they are close to land. They are the messages they look for when they need to find land or carry messages of hope.’

She continued, ‘I was just a young girl when I became interested in the boats that came in from the sea bringing foods, goods, father, and husbands. I would help my dad unload the fish and my mom set up at the market. My father had hired a young boy that he found orphaned on the streets. My dad would invite him to stay with us sometimes but he would barely speak a word. He would quietly eat dinner, get cleaned up, and sleep in the stables. Even when he did that he was out there tending to the horses. I always thought it was to show gratitude.

The more he spent time with our family the more he would open up. I learned that he couldn’t read or write and I was now the proud teacher to my only student. In return, he taught me folklore of the sea. I was fascinated by mermaids, sirens, large man-eating sharks and the effects of the moon. He taught me about the constellations and I taught him, French. A bond and loved formed between us. I loved that man so much then and more now. As the years passed your grandpa saved enough for his own fishing boat. He asked my father for my hand in marriage. Your great-grandfather agreed on the condition that he provides a house and a lifestyle better than he could give his only daughter.

Because of this, your grandfather was rarely home. He was always fishing and saving his money. I would receive love letters mailed from different ports from around the world. Until one month they just stopped. July, August, and September passed without a word. I would sit at the docks in the mornings watching the swallows in the distance praying for one of them to carry on their wings a wish of hope that my love would soon return. It was now November and we were sitting down for a meal when there was a faint tapping at the door. There your grandfather was, on one knee. He asked me to marry him but without a ring. Instead in the golden box was a key embossed with swallows.

I gasped, said yes and embraced him before my dad could react. My father invited him in for dinner like when he was a little boy. I sat a place next to my plate and sat down next to my future husband. ‘Son, where have you been? You stopped all communication with my daughter. Why should I believe you won’t abandon her again after you’re married?’ My fiance looked down at his plate and said, ‘Sir, I was out fishing. I have seen beautiful mornings and starry nights. I earned enough money to purchase the mansion on the hill. I also purchased four other charter boats so I can stay home with your daughter more and earn a living off my newly built company.’

‘The reason why it took so long for me to get home is that I got lost.’ My father rolled his eyes but the young man continued, ‘I have never seen such giant waves or heard roaring winds. I got turned around several times and almost capsized twice. I held tight and the crew doubted every decision I made but obeyed. I was even doubting myself trying to make it home. The next morning’s sunrise was like looking at angels. I realized I was lost and had no idea where we were. Then a lone swallow landed on the rail and hopped from side to side and take off. As if the bird was trying to tell me something. I know they don’t fly far from land and headed in the direction of the swallow. I planned on sending word to your daughter but seen it was our home port. I purchased the house, set up credit so she can purchase whatever she likes for the home, and purchased foods and goods. So with your permission and with the help of your wife, can I marry your daughter and help us plan a wedding fit for a princess?’

Speechless my mother gripped my sleeve and looked towards my father with hope in her eyes. He grinned, ‘Martin, you may marry my daughter. Let’s eat and see the fine life you will give my baby bird.’ My grandmother finished the story with a mist in her eye and a smile on her face, ‘And that’s how you were given the name Terney, my sea swallow. Sleep well baby bird.’


Ok, writing love stories isn’t my forte so this gives me a starting point to build from. But Discover’s Daily Prompt gave me a push. I happen to have two swallows tattooed on my shoulder. I also learned from a little research before naming characters is that Martin is a bank swallow and Tern (the granddaughter’s name is Terney) is a sea swallow.

Bet on the Wrinkle

We do everything together. This could be grocery shopping to doing the dishes. The one thing that I wouldn’t let him help me with is making our bed. I was a stickler for wrinkles in the sheet, quilts, and even our pillows. I don’t know why, only that it bothers me to the point I’m distracted at work.

One morning he begged to help me. ‘Please Jo, let me help you make our bed. We both sleep in it.’ I just rolled my eyes and smiled. ‘Just this once, let me help.’ ‘Ok, but you know how I am. I’ll be anxious about it all day if there is anything out of place or a single wrinkle.’ He kissed me on the forehead, ‘You need to learn to let go of some of these habits,’ he said picking up his side of the blanket. We both straightened out the fitted sheet then the flat sheet and moved to the quilt. We just finished placing the pillows when he flounced himself of his side of the bed. I gasped and my heart started racing, ‘Get up, get up, get up!!’ I said with every word getting louder and faster. ‘Why would you do that?’ I said shocked.

Grinning he said straightening out the bedding, ‘I’ll bet you five new books that you can’t let this wrinkle in my pillow stay until tomorrow morning.’ I was taken aback. He knows that I LOVE going to the bookstore and this is where I show no restraint. He has to supervise me so I’m not spending our grocery budget on books. I desperately wanted to prove. ‘Is there a spending limit on my five books? He chuckled at me, ‘No, no limit.’ I squinted my eyes and asked, ‘What happens if I can’t? What do you get?’ He thought for a minute, dramatically rubbing his chin and looking towards the ceiling. ‘You have to invite my brother to Thanksgiving this year.’ I groaned. His brother was a man’s man and made manly noises, and thought women were meant to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. I didn’t keep him from his brother but I didn’t go out of my way to have him at our apartment. ‘Oh, you’re on!’ We shook hands over the wrinkle and went to work.

All day that wrinkle in the pillow nagged at me. My phone buzzed, ‘My brother loves chives and butter in his mashed potatoes.’ I grinned, ‘The Viking cookbook I want is no longer on sale. $120 is the price,’ I smiled hitting send. ‘Ok babe, luv u and see u tonight.’ I put my phone away and smiled. I was in a surprisingly good mood. I think it was a combination of going shopping for my books and proving him wrong.

I arrived home first which was odd because he was usually home starting dinner. I can’t cook to save my life so I understand why he doesn’t want me getting my hands on that book. An hour past and he wasn’t answering his phone or texting back. I called the office and no one answered. Maybe he was shopping for dinner. I walked into our room and took a picture of the wrinkle on the pillow and sent it to him with a caption, ‘It’s still here’. Nothing. It was getting late and started a pizza when I was startled by a knock. I opened the door and there stood two officers, ‘Mrs. Tucker?’ I could feel the tears welling up in my eye, ‘M…me,’ is all I could get out. I didn’t let them in because that meant that anything they told me was real. ‘Your husband was in an accident. A car veered into his lane…’ The rest was garbled words and noises until he reached a book out to me, ‘This was in the floorboard.’ In shock, I turned the book over in my hands to find it was my cookbook.

His brother invited me over for Thanksgiving that year. He knows I can’t cook either. We still do everything together I carry my husband’s photo with me everywhere I go. I haven’t gotten my other four books. I can’t go unsupervised but I have cooked every recipe in the book he bought me. The inscription in the book, ‘You win baby, you cook dinner tonight. Hope this helps. Love Wayne.’ And his wrinkle is still on his pillow.


This is a response to the Daily Post Prompt: Wrinkle. I wanted to try something new. I even surprised myself and started to tear up. I would enjoy your opions and thoughts.

Noises Heard

It can be loud,
and it can be moving.

It can harden your soul,
or soften your heart.

It can make you run,
or cause you to freeze.

Noises have made me scared,
cry, and love.

My advice is to listen and
not to listen.


This is me trying my hand at poetry for the Daily Word Post. I tried to capture what noise does to me with my CPTSD.

6 Word Story: 2/1

Even though I’m really struggling today I’m going to try and stay on my track of goals and be creative…the best I can. I copied over my list of #6wordsbetter prompt list and the theme for this month is Gratitude.


Prompt Word: Special Person

Mom; stress, fear, unconditional love, gratitude.

 

September 12th, 2017

UGH! I’m writing this without my glasses while cooking dinner. Not only am I distracted but I’m also blind. Just a heads up.


Remember my post from Sunday? Yes, I missed the movie ‘It’ because we were expecting puppies. Well it’s a good thing I stayed home. As I was writing that post she was having puppies.  I wanted to save the event for another post (this one obviously). But first an update to that post:

The customer that was telling me about being involved in the largest lawsuit for worker’s comp in this state because the loss and reattachment of his arm and the three men that were trying to kill him-he’s in fact a paranoid schizophrenic! I talked to my manager and she informed me the last time that he was off his meds he was talking about three large wolves that were trying to kill him. She said this happens about 1 every 3 years. I felt bad for him in that moment. He could be not only dangerous to the public but also to himself. I will call the local authorities if this happens again and hopefully he’ll get the help he needs.


It’s Time!

After showing Clover her whelping area she was content and started to make herself comfortable and that’s when I noticed her pushing. All I could do was pet her and talk soothingly to her as she contracted with pain. At 12:06 p.m. the first baby boy arrived! A solid white little bean entered the world. She did wonderfully cleaning him up and herself. Then for 6 hours one after the other came to be. She did great and even though she was exhausted she looked like she just felt better. 11 beautiful puppies; 6 girls and 5 boys. We already have a couple of homes to visit before ensuring their lives to someone else’s (hopefully capable) hands. We are going to use ‘Game of Thrones’ characters’ names for this litter but we are waiting to see their personalities.

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I will post updates and mommy and babies grow and heal.

Stranger Things-Comparison and More Similarities

******SPOILER****** If you haven’t watched this show, don’t read! I may or may not ruin your viewing pleasure and curiosity. Also, I really wanted to write this and tried really hard to gather my thought process into a form that made sense.


When a young boy vanishes, a small town uncovers a mystery involving secret experiments, terrifying supernatural forces and one strange little girl.
Starring: Winona Ryder, David Harbour, Matthew Modine

 

I watched this show with my kids this weekend…OK we binged all 8 episodes. I’ll confess that I bawled like a toddler that just had her favorite color crayon stolen. I realized that it wasn’t for the obvious reasons. I can truly relate to the character 11 or rather her flashbacks and the way she feels.

 

So you read the descriptive blurb but what it leaves out is the little girl, ’11’ was a test subject. She was taken away from her mother at birth that was a voluntary test subject for monetary compensation. But what the mother didn’t know is that she was pregnant during the hallucinogenic drug trials. The man that 11 called ‘Papa’ was the one that ordered her to do horrible things and the only time that she got any human affection was when she completed tasks.

I CRIED! Yup, I cried as this little girl was shown being drug by two orderlies in white jump suits to a secluded closest with the door slammed and her sitting alone in the dark. I cried as she banged on the door hollering for her ‘papa’ to rescue her. I cried when she had escaped, received help from a man that gave her a burger after catching her stealing fries from his kitchen. She then witnessed his murder which was completed by someone from the testing facility where she was kept. I cried. Because I know what it’s like to need help from someone outside my abusive situation to help me navigate the world outside. I’ll come back to that later.

11 is found by a group of boys that were searching for their friend that had gone missing. She was scared, skeptic, needing a decent human being to make her feel like a human rather than a lab rat. There’s ups and downs during the blooming friendship among these boys and cried when there was name calling and when the boys obviously hurt her.

My Comparison

I was in an extremely mentally and physically abusive relationship.  I can’t even begin to count how many times I would tell my children ‘Bye baby, I love you’ in there ear as I kissed them goodnight while they slept so peacefully, all the while knowing that I may not make it through the night. So yes, I cried when 11 told Mike ‘goodbye’ trying to beat the demon. The only time I received human affection was after he was done being abusive. I was isolated from the outside world just as 11. I didn’t have friends or could go by myself ANYWHERE even to get a burger. I needed something from the outside world to show me that things weren’t like they were in our house. I broke his rules and got a job as a cashier…believe me, I paid for it later but continued to go. There I made friends with a couple of guys that showed me what it was like to be treated like a human. They knew I was scared (all the time) untrusting of people except by husband (ex now) as that was how I was molded and they took their time and were careful of my fragile state of mind. They showed me right from wrong, great places to eat, and even women’s fashion. We became close at work and I was able to confide in them over time how my husband was. They tried protecting me by keeping him from interrupting me at work. Whether it be him showing up or calling, those boys were there.

I married the man that saved me the night from my husband. I don’t want to go into details but a high speed chase ended with my girls and I at his house with the two boys standing there with guns. He developed feelings for me and of course I was shocked. I didn’t know what it would feel like to be cared for and loved. I still have flashbacks, I still have trust issues, and my husband that saved me-still needs to be careful with me sometimes because of my C-PTSD.

I understand 11’s flashbacks, issues, and what it’s like to be abused so when the final scene of the final episode showing her being brave but gone…I fucking lost it. If this comparison makes it to the screen writers and producers, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let her make it. Let her have a normal life (yeah I’m crying as I write this). I need to know if I’ll ever have a normal life. And before you ask…I kept watching because I needed to know that she was OK. Am I ok?

 

https://www.netflix.com/title/80057281

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