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ask-the-phan-site · 3 years

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The Vain Emperor of the Track

>It’s time.

Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines.

This has been a long time waitin’. I can’t wait!

Same here. He’ll pay for what he’s done.

Playing with two people’s hearts like that is unforgivable. It’s time for him to face the fist of justice!

Then we’re off! Let the race begin!

>Mona becomes our van.

Let’s race!

Here we go!

>With that, we go on our way to take Trey Sterling’s heart.

>The penthouse overlooking the track is were very special guest to the school usually stay. This time, Sterling Sterling and his son, Trey, were staying here. They were trying to remain as calm as they can after receiving our calling card this morning.

I’m sure the police are doing whatever they can to get to the bottom of this. Don’t worry, son.

I’m sure, Dad. I’m not that worried... Although, these Phantom Thieves are quite tenacious... Especially the one called Crow.

Mr. Sterling: Now, now, things will be fine. Right now, you should get some sleep. We’ve got a lot to do later on. Good night.

Trey: Good night.

>Mr. Sterling goes off to his room while Trey stayed in the study. Everything was quite... Until...

?????: Good, we don’t want Daddy getting in the way.

Trey: !

>A red wave passes over. When it was done, the study had been replaced with a podium, a place where the Roman Emperor would sit in the Colosseum. Outside, the the track of the Colosseum of Vanity was roaring with excitement... And Trey had been replaced with his Shadow.

Shadow Trey: You have arrived.

You bet we did! And we’re here to win!

Shadow Trey: I’d like to see you try.

Believe us. We will.

Shadow Trey: Very well. To the track!

>With that, Shadow Trey leaves.

Okay, so we all remember the plan, right?

While Trey’s Shadow is distracted by his race with Zack, Joker, Panther, Queen, Crow, Wolf, Speed, X, Slice, and Dice, we will sneak the Treasure away before anyone notices. That’s pretty much it.

Lucy: Exactly.

Carmen: Good to hear. I still wish Player could be here. Or at least have contact with him.

Sorry, Red, but in the Metaverse, the only hacker you have is yours truly.

And we’re all happy that you’re here, Oracle.

We’re all counting on you.

Good luck today, Oracle.

Oracle: Thanks, you guys.

Me, Oracle, Connor, Chim-Chim, and Lucy will be in the pits over the radio.

I will join you as well. If anything happens to Joker, I want to be able to help.

Joker: Thank you, Fox. Wish us luck.

Then let’s get to it! Are we ready?

Everyone: Ready!

*Chirp*

>With that, we go our separate ways. Me, Fox, Panther, Queen, Crow, Wolf, Slice, Dice, Speed, X, Zack, Oracle, Lucy, Conor, Chim-Chim, and Ivy go to the track while Mona, Skull, Noir, Violet, Sophie, and Carmen go to retrieve the Treasure.

>Out on the track...

Oracle: Okay, Lucy, Conor, and Chim-Chim prepped the Mach 6, the Shooting Star, and Duel Aces and Ivy prepped Lydia (Zack’s car). So I did some tuning of my own.

Really? I can’t wait to see it.

>Just then, a large trailer was being pulled up to us... by a small car.

Hi, everyone! It’s been a while!

Panther: (happy) Jose, it’s good to see you again.

Zack: (confused) You know this kid?

Queen: Yes, he’s a friend of us.

Oracle: With a little technical know-how and the power of cognition, I managed to fix up some vehicles just for you. I didn’t want to store them in the garages here out of fear someone would sabotage them and they can’t really exist outside the Metaverse, so I asked Lavenza if I can store them in the Velvet Room. I also asked Jose to bring them here.

Jose: They look pretty good. Not as good as my ride, but still, nice machines.

>We go to the back of the trailer and Oracle opens them. Inside are four cars. One car had an Arsene-like design, the second had a Carmen-like design, the third had a Robin Hood-like design, and the fourth had a Valjean-like design.

WOW! These look so cool, Oracle!

Oracle: (smirking) That’s not all. Each of your cars also has a special feature. Joker, your car, Phantom Flyer, has a grappling hook with wires strong enough to pull the car or other things. Conor even helped me with laser sawblades. Use with care.

>I get in the Phantom Flyer. I drive it to the front of Jose’s car and fire the grappling hook at it. With ease, I manage to pull both Jose’s car and the trailer a decent 10 feet. Then, I activate the laser sawblades and Jose takes out a cinderblock. He moves it towards the sawblades and the block is cut with ease.

This is awesome, Oracle.

Oracle: Panther, your car, Flaming Kitty, has the same cloaking technology the Mach 6 and the Shooting Star have. But aside from that, it can also change its appearance to look like anything. Even other cars. It also has flamethrowers.

>Panther drives the car out. When she activates the cloaking technology, it becomes invisible. Then, it reappears as the Mach 6, then the Shooting Star, and then as Lydia before changing back. Next, she activates the flamethrowers which perfected roasted some marshmallows Jose just happened to have.

I wish I could show my mom! She would love this!

Oracle: Crow, your car, Freedom’s Strike, has the same camouflage technology like Panther’s. It can also shoot arrows and lasers and it also has sawblades both steel and laser.

>Crow drives the car out. It shot a few arrows and lasers into a target Jose set up. Then, Crow activates the laser sawblades and cuts a cinderblock. Then, the car changes its Robin Hood-like design to a Loki-like design. Then, steel sawblades come out and cuts the target in half.

(changing the car back to its original design) Quite amazing, Oracle. You know me all too well...

A little too well for my taste.

Yeesh, I think all that time you spent undercover really messed you up.

Either that or the connection made between you and the target.

Oracle: Now, Wolf, your car, Howling Silver, is built like a tank and is virtually indestructible. Even a wrecking ball can’t destroy it. And it has sonic canons for blasting your way through just about anything.

>Wolf drives his car out. Jose brought out his hammer and gave the car a good hard whack. But the car was just fine. Then, Wolf fires a sonic blast which shatters a stack of glass jars Jose set up.

Wolf: (excited) Sweet! I’m so going to talk to my superiors about making something like this in the real world.

Oracle: Good luck. I want to make cars for the others, but I’ll think about it after they finish their lessons.

Wolf: Probably good.

Dice: Hold on, Queen’s racing, too. How come she doesn’t have a car?

Queen: I’ve decided I’m just going to ride Agnes. She’s the closest to being a car.

Lucy: Is that even allowed?

Queen: There’s no rule against it.

Lucy: Fair enough.

>We take our cars to the track and we ready ourselves.

Racer Shadow: Yo, babe! Where’s your car?

It’s right here.

>Queen goes Third Tier.

Queen: PERSONA!

>Queen got on Agnes as Shadow Trey came on the track with his golden car.

Shadow Trey: Friends, Bostonians, countrymen, lend me your ears! Today will make the day that the Racer Family is finally put in their place! And I take down the legendary Phantom Thieves of Hearts! After this race, no one will ever question again who is the greatest person to ever live! Now, let us begin!

Announcer: Now watch as our most glorious emperor, Trey Sterling, goes up against the soon to be disgraced Racer Family and the Phantom Thieves!

>Shadow Trey comes to us.

Shadow Trey: Hope you’re ready to lose. That’s all you’ll ever be good for.

Speed: We’ll see about that.

Zack: You bet. I won’t lose to you this time.

Announcer: All drivers to your cars, please! All drivers to your!

Shadow Trey: (pointing and clicking) Later, Big Z.

>Zack was trying to hold back his rage as Trey’s Shadow left.

Ivy: Don’t let him get to you, bro. Remember what happened last time.

Zack: R- Right. That was the old Zack. The new Zack is way more cool under presser.

>Ivy left to join Oracle, Fox, Lucy, Conor, and Chim-Chim... I could tell Zack was still mad.

Joker: Are you alright?

Zack: It’s just... Ever since we were kids, Trey has always gotta do me up. Be better than me. And he does it with his old man’s money and then rubs it in my face especially. Why’s he gotta be like that?

Joker: I suppose we’ll know once we take his Treasure.

Zack: Still, I just can’t stand it. He’s worst than havin’ to eat fish.

>I know how you feel. >>You're the better person.

Zack: Come again?

Joker: Trey thinks he can buy his way into victory, but that’s not the same as having real talent. There are some things that even money can’t solve. And I speak from experience. Shido thought that because of his position, he could get away with anything, and look where that got him. The same thing will most likely happen to Trey.

Zack: You really think that?

I do. So to me, aside from Skull, that makes us brothers.

Zack: That’s... That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard. Hey, does that make Ivy like your sister, too?

Ivy: (who heard us and came over with Fox) We’re a package deal. You get one of us, you get both of us. Just remember that we ain’t leavin’ Carmen.

Joker: Don’t worry, you’re not going anywhere from her.

Zack: ... (smiling) Thanks, Joker. I owe you one.

Joker: Think nothing of it.

Zack: No really, you gotta let us thank you in some way. How ‘bout this, you change Trey’s heart, I might teach how to drive not just cars, but other stuff, too. How does that sound?

Joker: Well, if Mona where here, he’d say that would come in handy.

Fox: I agree. You never know when we might need to escape in just a car. You’ve already shown to be good on a motorcycle and you’re so close to passing your diver’s test with help from your father, I think it wouldn’t hurt to try other things.

>I think about it. I would be helpful to learn how to operate other forms of transportation.

Alright, you’re on.

Ivy: Then we have a deal.

Zack: You bet.

>Me and Zack do a fist bump together.

I am thou, thou art I… Thou hast acquired a new vow.

It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Shine Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power…

Confidant: Zack & Ivy

Arcana: Shine (This Arcana is made up for this Confidant.)

Rank: 1

Ability: The Getaway Driver

Zack and Ivy will teach you better driving skills to use in the Metaverse.

Announcer: Last warning: All drivers to your cars, please! All drivers to your cars!

Joker: (putting the mask back on) Ready?

Zack: Ready as we’ll ever be.

>So, we get in our cars and Fox and Ivy rejoin the others.

Ready... Set... GO!!!

>And we’re off!

>Meanwhile, with the other at the podium, they were searching for the Treasure.

Skull: It’s gotta be here somewhere. We all sat that light thing right here.

Mona: He must have hidden it knowing someone would take it while he’s racing.

Sophie: I can sense it, too.

Carmen: I wish Oracle could have stayed with us.

Noir: I’m sure if we look harder, we can find it. Just think, where would someone as narcissistic as Trey would hide something that he believes gives him power?

Mona: My guess is somewhere really obvious. Someplace where he just can’t help but show it off to everyone.

Carmen: Maybe that?

>Carmen was pointing to some Shadows that were carrying something covered by a gold tarp.

Cognitive Being 1: There’s the prize for the winner of the race!

Cognitive Being 2: I sure wish I could enter to win it, but no one can beat the emperor. No one.

Cognitive Being 3: Still, whoever wins that... Oh, who am I kidding? Emperor Trey’s got this race in the bag!

I guess that’s it.

Violet: How are we going to get it? There are too many eyes watching.

Carmen: I think I can help with that. Oracle did a tune up to my tools. They should help us.

>Carmen pressed something on her coat and she turns invisible.

Noir: (taking out a small potion bottle) Panther gave us this camouflage potion. It should last us long enough to grab the Treasure and get out.

Carmen: Sounds simple enough... What’s the catch?

Straight to the point, huh?

Noir: Well, we might still have to fight a few Shadows along the way. Including the Palace Ruler. It’s usually unavoidable. So be ready.

Carmen: Thanks, I will.

Then here we go!

>Noir sprinkles the potion on herself and the others and they are hidden from view. They and Carmen go to take the Treasure.

>Meanwhile, back on the track, the race was raging on. A Shadow nearly rams me to the side, but luckily, I dodged it.

Oracle’s Voice: Be careful, Joker. I think Trey’s Shadow payed those guys to take you guys out.

Joker: No doubt. They don’t look like they’re going to let us leave this race with our lives.

Speed: Dad said and Uncle Rex used to deal with stuff like this all the time. I think we can make it through.

Ivy’s Voice: Just try not to do anything reckless.

Lucy’s Voice: Good luck with that. If there’s one thing you should know about Speed and X, “reckless” is their middle name.

Speed: Actually, my middle name is Daisuke.

Ivy’s Voice: Seriously?

X: Well Dad said it was either that or Pops.

Queen: Better watch it, we got one coming!

>A Shadow comes up to me. It transforms.

Bring it! Persona!

Tutorial

You have just entered a Race Battle.

If you have seen Persona 5 Scramble: The Phantom Strikers, this battle is similar to the battles there.

When you attack a Shadow, it gets knocked backwards. When its HP goes to 0, it will be defeated. However, if you get attacked, you will be the one knocked backwards. If your HP goes to 0, it is game over.

>Garuda attacks with Garudyne. Luckily, I dodge it. Arsene uses One-shot Kill. Garuda is knocked back and loses a lot of HP due to his weakness to Gunfire. Garuda drives (or flies or whatever he’s doing in this race) back up and attacks me, sending me back a bit. I drive back up and Arsene uses One-shot Kill again. Then, I attack with my own gun. He is knocked back good. Garuda tries again to attack me, but I dodge it. Arsene uses One-shot Kill again and Garuda is gone.

Joker: That was close.

>Then, I notice Flaming Kitty driving up.

Tutorial

When one of your teammates is in view, you can pass the baton to them.

During this time, the one who passed the baton will have time to regain HP and SP.

>I pass the baton to Panther.

Panther: Okay, it’s my turn now! Persona!

>A Shadow come up to her and transforms.

>The Oni tries to attack Panther, but she dodges it. Carmen uses Agilao. The Oni uses Snap. Panther is sent back a bit. Carmen uses Marin Karin and the Oni is Brainwashed. Oni does not act. Panther then uses the car’s flamethrower. It had a Burning effect. After snapping out of it, Oni attacks Panther with Giant Slice. It was a critical hit and Panther is knocked backwards. Thankfully, she recovered and Carmen used Diarama. The Oni tries to use Giant Slice on Panther again, but she dodges it. Carmen then uses Marin Karin again and Oni is once again Brainwashed. The Oni slows down. Then, Carmen uses Agidyne and the Oni is gone.

Panther: Yes! That’s cool!

>Queen passes ahead of Panther and she passes the baton to her.

Panther: Good luck!

Queen: Thanks.

>A Shadow comes up and transforms.

>The Shiki-Ouji uses Psio. Queen is weak to it and it really knocks her back. She recovers and drives onwards. Agnes uses Freidyne. The Shiki-Ouji is knocked way back. Queen takes this as an opportunity and uses Freidyne again. The Shiki-Ouji grives back up again and uses Double Snap. It was a critical hit and Queen is knocked back. Fortunately, she recovers quickly. Agnes then uses Diarahan. Shiki-Ouji uses Psio, but Queen dodges it. Agnes then uses Freidyne and Shiki-Ouji knocked backwards. Queen decides to go bigger and Agnes uses Atomic Flare. The Shiki-Ouji drives up again, but is real weak. Shiki-Ouji uses Taunt, but it didn’t work. Agnes uses Atomic Flare again and the Shiki-Ouji is gone.

Queen: So glad you’re on our side, Agnes.

>Queen spots Crow in Freedom’s Strike. Queen passes the baton to him.

Crow: My turn!

>A Shadow drives up to him and transforms.

Crow: My skills exceed yours! Persona!

>Throne uses Makougaon. Fortunately, Crow resisted. Robin Hood uses Eigaon. Throne is knocked back. Throne tries to attack Crow, but he dodges it. Robin Hood tries to use Mamudoon, but it misses. Throne uses Makougaon. Crow resists again. Robin Hood uses Eigaon. Throne is knocked back. Then, Robin Hood uses Megaton Raid. Throne moves back up again and Throne attacks. This time, it was a critical hit and Crow is thrown back. Crow drives up again and Robin Hood uses Eigaon. Throne is knocked back. Then, Robin Hood uses Megidola. Throne drives up again and uses Makougaon. Crow resists again. Robin Hood uses Eigaon, but Throne dodges it with Evade Curse. Throne hesitates. Robin Hood uses Mamudoon. Throne is knocked back. Then, Robin Hood uses Megidola. Throne drives back up again and attacks. Robin Hood uses Megaton Raid, but Throne dodges it. Throne attacks again and it is a critical hit. Throne attacks. Crow manages to regain the lead.

Crow: Very well. It seems that Instant Kill didn’t do much... I guess I’ll have to do this the hard way.

PERSONA!

>Freedom’s Strike also changes. Loki uses Eigaon. It was super effective and throws Throne backwards. Then, Loki uses Laevanteinn. The now weakened Throne drives back up again and tries to use Makougaon. However, Crow dodges it with Evade Bless. Loki uses Eigaon again and Throne was gone.

Good. And not a moment too soon.

>Crow sees Wolf driving Howling Silver. Crow passes the baton just has changes back from Black Mask Mode.

Crow: (in cool down) We’re almost there. Keeping going!

Wolf: Rodger!

>Another Shadow drives up and transforms.

Wolf: So you’re the last one between us, Sterling, and the lead. Alright, bring it on! Persona!

>Baal uses Charge. Valjean uses Heat Riser. Baal uses Ayamur. It was a critical hit and Wolf was knocked backed. Baal just hesitated. Wolf drives back up and Valjean uses One-shot Kill. Baal uses Panta Rhei. Valjean uses Trible Down. Baal uses Panta Rhei again. Valjean uses One-shot Kill. It was a critical hit and Baal is knocked way back. Valjean then uses Megidola. Baal recovers and uses Revolution. Valjean uses Agneyastra. It was a critical hit and forces Baal way back. Valjean then uses Megidolaon. Baal drives back up and uses Ayamur. It was a critical hit and Wolf is forced back. Baal then uses Panta Rhei. Wolf manages to drive back up with little HP. Valjean uses Heat Riser. Baal tries to use Ayamur again, but Wolf dodges it. Valjean uses Megidolaon and Baal is gone.

Wolf: Yes!

Oracle’s Voice: Great work, you guys! All that’s left is Trey’s Shadow.

Wolf: Right!

Joker: Let’s hope the others are doing great with the Treasure.

>Back with Carmen and the others, they managed to get close to the Treasure.

Carmen: (looking under the tarp) This looks like a job for the laser cutter.

>Carmen cuts open a hole big enough for her and the others to get in. They go inside.

Carmen: Got it.

Mona: This is the Treasure alright.

Sophie: It certainly has that vibe.

>They sneak away until they were in the clear. The Treasure was a shiny golden racing trophy.

What a surprise.

Skull: And I thought Kamoshida was bad. This just takes the cake.

>Carmen then takes a closer look at the trophy...

Carmen: (surprised) I see, that explains it.

Skull: What’s up, Red?

Carmen: Something real interesting.

>Back on the track, I managed to catch up to Wolf thanks to Slice, Dice, Speed, X, and Zack.

Wolf: Good luck to you all.

Joker: Thanks.

Slice: Me and Dice will take care of things in the rare.

>Me, Speed, X, and Zack drive up to Trey’s Shadow.

Shadow Trey: Well, look who finally decided to show up. I knew hiring those idiots wouldn’t help.

X: Goes to show you that good help is hard to find.

Shadow Trey: Fine, if you want something done right, do it yourself.

Speed: X and I will take care of Trey if he tries anything. Joker, Zack, think you can handle it?

Zack: You bet. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.

Ivy’s Voice: Just try to focus. This isn’t like all the races we’re use to.

Joker: Don’t worry, he won’t be alone this time.

Zack: Thanks, Joker. Let’s do it!

>I nod... and go Third Tier.

Joker: PERSONA!

>Shadow Trey tries to use Brain Shake on me, but I dodge it. Raoul uses Concentrate. Shadow Trey uses Psiodyne. Raoul uses Phantom Show which puts Shadow Trey to Sleep.

Joker: Now’s your chance! Attack!

Speed: Here I come!

>I fling the Mach 6 forward with the Phantom Flyer’s grappling hook. Then, Speed attacks with his car’s laser sawblades. Speed drives back into position. Shadow Trey uses Taunt. I fall under Rage. I attack Shadow Trey with my car’s laser sawblades. Shadow Trey uses Psiodyne. It was a technical hit. I snap out of it and Raoul uses Eigaon. Shadow Trey tries to use Terror Claw, but I dodge it. I equipped Raoul with the One-shot Kill Skill Card and he uses One-shot Kill. It was a critical hit.

Joker: We get another one! Go!

X: This is for Annalise!

>I fling the Shooting Star forward and X rams Shadow Trey’s car, sending it back a bit. X moves back into position. Shadow Trey uses Brain Shake. Fortunately, I wasn’t Brainwashed. Raoul uses Concentrate. Shadow Trey uses Marin Karin. It didn’t work. Raoul uses Eigaon. It took a lot of Shadow Trey’s HP. Shadow Trey uses Sukukaja. Raoul uses One-shot Kill, but Shadow Trey dodges it. Shadow Trey then uses Marin Karin and I become Brainwashed. I nearly attack Speed. Shadow Trey uses Psiodyne. It was a technical hit. I snap out of it and Raoul uses Concentrate. Shadow Trey tries to use Brain Shake, but I dodge it. Raoul uses Phantom Show and it puts Shadow Trey to Sleep.

Joker: Get ready for another one! Just one more after this!

Zack: Here I go!

>I fling Lydia forward and Zack attacks Shadow Trey, sending him further back. Zack moves back into position.

Shadow Trey: (now really angry) I’m not done yet! Let me show you what happens when you cross me! I release upon you the deadly sin of vanity! You have no means of escape, human! The fraudulence of mankind shall bring forth ruin!

>Shadow Trey uses Distorted Vanity. Raoul uses Concentrate again. Shadow Trey uses Psiodyne. I’m knocked back a lot. Shadow trey then uses Skull Cracker. Fortunately, I didn’t get Confused. Raoul uses Phantom Show and Shadow Trey is Asleep again.

Joker: Now to finish this race!

>I give the final blow.

>After that, Shadow Trey was now back behind us. Then, I notice something.

Zack! Look!

>Zack was way ahead of us. He was in first place.

Ivy’s Voice: Go for it, bro! Go for it!

Zack: This is for you, sis! And everyone in Southie!

>Then, in a zoom... it was over. Zack crossed the finish line and won the race.

Cognition 1: (in disbelief) No way! Emperor Trey actually lost!?

Cognition 2: They must have cheated somehow.

Cognition 3: Actually, now that I think about it, doesn’t Emperor Trey do the same thing?

Cognition 4: Hey, you’re right! He paid those racers to kill those other racers!

Cognition 5: We’ve been supporting a cheater this whole time!

Cognitive Spectators: (outraged) Trey Sterling is a crook! A SPOILED LITTLE BRAT!

>Later at victory lane, Shadow Trey comes to us weakly.

Shadow Trey: It’s... It’s not possible... I should have won... I always win...

Wolf: Only because you paid those racers to lose with your father’s money. That’s not how you gain victory.

Shadow Trey: But, it’s my victory. I’m a proud son of Boston. I’m Boston Proud. Even the trophy says so.

??????: Does it really?

>Carmen and the others come to us with the trophy. She showed us the plaque at the bottom. Engraved on it was Trey’s name, but above it was another name that was chiseled out. I could definitely make out Zack’s first name, but his last name was completely unreadable.

Shadow Trey: The trophy? My trophy.

Carmen: I don’t think so. You clearly didn’t earn this. It was Zack’s.

>Shadow Trey looked like he was ready to attack one of us, but instead, he just drops to his knees and begins sobbing. We weren’t sure how to react... Then Zack comes over to Shadow Trey. He comes down to him.

Zack: (actually sympathetic towards his nemesis) Just... Why? Why do ya do this? Especially towards me and my sister?

Shadow Trey: (looking to him) ... You... You really want to know?

>Zack nods.

Shadow Trey: Look at you. You appear to be such an amateur, but the truth is... You were the better racer. You did a lot of things that were better than me. Compared to you, I was the real amateur. This was something even my father knew. He just wanted to see me happy. So, he decided to do whatever it took to make me happy. To make sure that I get what I want. From that very day at kindergarten, I convinced myself that my father and his money were the only way to get it. I love my father. He is a great man. If anyone could help me get my way, it’s him.

Noir: But that’s not how it works. There are somethings that you have to earn for yourself.

Shadow Trey: And make myself look like a fool? Like him? (points to Zack) Never. In this world, you take what you want the first chance you get. That’s why I’ve been so hard on Zack and Ivy. Because I didn’t want anyone to think that any way, despite our backgrounds... we would be the same. But we’re not. We... are rivals.

Zack: (shocked) ...

Speed: So you’re saying all this time, you and Zack could have been friends?

Shadow Trey: Maybe that’s another reason why I’ve always looked down on you. So that whenever you lose to me, you would realize that the only way to beat me was to befriend me. Though I wouldn’t be caught dead associating with someone from lower class, I could have changed all that.

Zack: But... We coulda been friends without all that.

Shadow Trey: !

Zack: Well, I don’t know. I’m still processin’ this. But bein’ so high and mighty around me and Ivy wouldn’t have made us friends. Just bein’ a good sport and welcomin’ anyone who shares the dream.

Shadow Trey: ...

Zack: I know you just wanted to be the best so that everyone would like you, but it never really hurts to show everyone who the real Trey Sterling is. You don’t need to hide behind your daddy’s wealth and power. You’ve got somethin’ that he could never get with his money.

Shadow Trey: ... What is that?

Zack: ... Beats me. It ain’t my life that needs fixin’. (offers his hand) So get up. Try to find just what you really can do.

Shadow Trey: ...

Joker: Listen to him. He may not look like a goofball, but he’s a wise goofball.

Carmen: He’s cares about others besides himself. I guess that includes you.

Shadow Trey: ...

Joker: It’s like we were saying...

You can’t buy talent or friendship. You ear it.

>Shadow Trey just sat silent for a bit. He thought of what we said... Then, he takes Zack’s hand and is pulled up.

Shadow Trey: I’m sorry. I now know that what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have treated you so terribly. And I also shouldn’t have played Bobby or Annalise. I don’t deserve either of them.

X: (whispering) That’s for sure.

Shadow Trey: For a while, I’ve always wanted to be as famous as my former idol, August Gaunt, as well loved by everyone as my old pen pal from Arizona, and a popular as... You, Akechi.

What!?

Shadow Trey: Yes, I know who you are. I suppose the me in the real world knows, too, but hasn’t fully figured it out yet. And even if he has, I doubt he’s going to say anything. Even he wouldn’t believe it. After all... It came to him in a dream. As did Augusts and his pen pal.

Crow: Then you know that my popularity as what you think.

Shadow Trey: I think so. I guess popularity, fame, and being well loved are very different things.

Carmen: You just have to find a way to connect them in a good way. Start with doing something that will get you well loved. For starters, apologizing to those two hearts you played... And maybe donate to a good charity.

Skull: Like the B.O.M.G.T.M. Foundation.

Crow: Or the Worldwide Engineering Brigade.

Shadow Trey: Yeah, I think those would be good starts.

>With that, Shadow Trey returns to his true self and we take our own leave as the Palace vanishes.

>To be concluded...

#phantom thieves of hearts #heist

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startuplifedenver · 5 years

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THE END OF STAFFING, THE BEGINNING OF THE REAL DEAL

A series of events have happened in the last few weeks, that ameritan que sean escritos para la posteridad, como una forma de figuring out what is it that is happening, and how I am creating a life right in front of my eyes.

The feeling of being in total descontrol of life, yet following a very well marked and specific path forward, has become more clear and delineado a medida que pasan los días y analizo las diferentes situaciones de la vida.

This is what has been happening:

Arrived in Denver in early January and found myself with plenty of ideas and plans, and no job and no income. Nothing. Not a single penny coming my way. At the same, I got a flat tire, which lead to Walmart fucking up my already broken steering wheel pump. Upon returning to see if they could tie up what they forgot to, the check engine light started showing and the shortly after that, the rear break pad fell off and the break was touching the disk of the breaks directly and making a fucking horrible metal-against-metal noise from hell that even made me think twice before stopping at red lights. The noise was just horrifying.

During this time I had no job, no income, and not doing jack shit with my life. Just getting back to the old Mr. International Sales Director in Denver: Sitting at the co-working space, looking at the computer, stressing over 1,000 things in my mind to do and get off the ground, and in the meantime not doing anything to secure an income.

Things got so fucked up for me (this is the reality of carrying a mental illness around such as high peaks of anxiety and depression), that I was just sitting at home, feeling bad about myself and not having a job or anything in my life.

And somehow the crude reality of just getting the resume out and looking for a job, any job, whatever fucking job is available, is the one and only alternative in life. But that didn’t quite registered in my mind, the reasoning at that time about what to do and how to secure an income, has not been understood and at the end of the day, I really don’t remember what the fuck was it that I was thinking back in those early days of 2019. Because the fact is that I have learned a fucking huge lesson, and what I knew before, matters not because that paradigm has been altered fundamentally up to the point that the Mr. ISD from January 2019 is light years behind where Mr. ISD is today in mid-April.

Holy shit if this year has been of growing pains and growing pleasures.

When I ran out of money in March. Because I did ran out of all the money I had. The bank account reached ZERO and I had no income (WTF). But I had spoken with my parents few months back about starting my own business, and that I needed US $10,000. They both looked at me like that is a lot of money, but you have been working at it so it may be interesting.

Well, that is typical of the country they live in in Latin America: People cannot say NO to others, they just say “hmm interesting, let’s talk later” and no one ever comes and says “that idea is stupid, take a shower and get a job instead”. And the same happened with my parents, but you see they are good people and when I ran out of money, I kind of ask them about the first part of the money we have “talked about... you remember”.

Long story short I got $2K from my family, split between five weeks, and that barely got me to pay the minimum shit.

One day, I went to the supermarket and bought just the bare minimum food for a week which was like $40 total. The next day the car insurance payment hit my bank account and the balance ended up being $0.99. Had I bought just one cookie, I’d have been in the red.

That was the first sign. The next day, my dad wired me the first $1,000 and a frantic search for a job, any job, started.

I had a change in mind of 180 degrees. From filling sorry about myself, to applying to job after job, and having at least 4 interviews. Which leads us close the present time, when things are happening with a sinchronicity that is very pleasant, and that I know it’s happening because that is how the story was written and it’s been written.

You don’t need to learn anything new in this life, just need to remember it all, one day at a time. Each day, you are not going anything new, but remembering the story you created for your self in this particular incarnation, time, universe, color, remembering that in a cosmic era that is all, this same story was written and it’s a fantastic story. All of them are.

Early morning today, I am in my office at the staffing company, already bored and not knowing what to do, who to call, where to go, what to do. No goals, no plan, no priorities, just showing up at the office on time. Very hard to wake up this morning, took me an additional two hours to get out of bed.

The CEO of a company in the cannabis space I applied for calls me at 9:21am. Busy and the document will be sent. They have a call at 11am with a potential client in South America, not sure what the country was, or what was this about. But needed me to translate. Monday and Tuesday he’s busy, but wants to take me in the company, train me, learn all about the company and the products, take the time. Jose is to read everything in the website, about the products, the content, the company, the articles, the philosophy, and memorize shit too, right.

After the call, I mentioned that he’s busy on Monday and Tuesday, and that how about if I go on Wednesday and we start working that day. Good idea, let’s do that and start studying everything about the company, and hemp, and CBD, etc.

During the call we talked with a guy who is a middle man with a lab, and that has done work in the pharmaceutical industry. Not sure about him or his credentials. He was asking for a product for a lab, but he doesn’t work for the lab, he apparently knows them. Doesn’t have a distributor or anything. Just a hustler who wants to get into CBD, it’s my reading.

Talked about different companies he knows, and different investment opportunities, and got all excited out of the sudden, calling me again, that he already sent me info, and that check it out. I was like dude, I am in the middle of something, will look at it, and will let you know.

From my business point of view, first you talk about one thing, then another thing. If there is too many things on the table, it seems to me this is a fishing expedition more than a a solid business. Pitch one turd at a time, not a full bowl of shit because that really, no matter what, it’s going to stink from here to Heaven.

The same Friday that I talked to the CEO, the HR lady from the company told me that I was too relax in the job, and didn’t show the hustle necessary to do this shit. They need someone on fire talking to people, going out, looking for deals, talking to people, following up. Being engaged in the company and the mission, share information. And she was nice enough to let me think about it during the weekend and see if this is what I really want, or just do something else. Because “the pressure was going to be increase a lot” for results.

Business development, sales, connections, deals, that I am very attracted to in the cannabis industry, not really in construction or staffing.

Exactly what I want to do with the CBD company, but not with staffing in construction. The key for the staffing job was to make appointments, day after day, calling to make appointments and going to appointments. Even the controller of the company got excited when all three of us said we were going out on appointments.

In a nutshell: Just as it was written, our hero Mr. IDS, took a job for two weeks to wake him up to the realities of the hustle in sales, and his chill attitude, and turn it around starting next Wednesday at the new company. What I could’ve done better in the staffing sales job, let’s do it x 10

But first, procrastination...

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digitalyogesh · 3 years

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The Relationship Between PCOS and Inflammation

INFLAMMATORY PCOS happens when your body’s characteristic insusceptible framework, made out of white platelets and different components, responds to an unfamiliar substance trying to shield your body from an apparent danger. Lamentably, some of the time your body’s aggravation reaction gets set off improperly and makes your insusceptible framework respond to your own tissues and cells.

Hispanic lady holding brow in torment

Jose Luis Pelaez Inc/Getty Images

Getting INFLAMMATORY PCOS

This provocative reaction can cause various manifestations like growing, agony, weakness, and cerebral pains. Irritation isn’t simply connected with the joints and muscles, as is usually seen in rheumatoid joint pain or gout; it can likewise happen in the inside organs. Other foundational conditions brought about by aggravation incorporate colitis (irritation of the colon) and myocarditis (irritation of the heart muscle).1

As well as imaging considers like X-beams or CT filters, a blood test searching for a protein called C-receptive protein (CRP) can be utilized to recognize irritation. At the point when raised, CRP can show that a provocative reaction is happening in the body, however it can’t recognize where the aggravation is.2

The CRP Test

INFLAMMATORY PCOS

A few investigations have discovered that individuals with polycystic ovarian disorder (PCOS) are bound to have raised degrees of CRP contrasted with those without the condition.3 This recommends that some type of aggravation is occurring in the body.

In the event that you have INFLAMMATORY PCOS , you may likewise have significant degrees of different markers for irritation like oxidative pressure, fiery cytokines, and white platelets called lymphocytes and monocytes. These variables are engaged with the invulnerable reaction and are likewise found during inflammation.4

Raised degrees of CRP are additionally connected with diabetes, insulin obstruction, and heart disease―conditions that are more normal in those with PCOS.5

Bringing down Your Risk

On the off chance that you have PCOS, you can begin facilitating aggravation through way of life changes. Perhaps the most ideal approaches to do this is through a sound eating routine that incorporates calming food sources.

Studies show that individuals with PCOS who followed a Mediterranean-style mitigating diet for a quarter of a year lost 7% of their body weight and showed huge upgrades in their cholesterol, circulatory strain, and incendiary markers.6

A Mediterranean eating routine is intended to be low-calorie, low-fat, and low-immersed fat with a low-glycemic file and moderate to high fiber consumption. It accentuates calming food varieties like fish, vegetables, nuts, olive oil, spices, flavors, and green tea.7

Enhancing your eating routine with omega 3 unsaturated fats, the best assimilated type of fish oil, can likewise help decrease inflammation.8 Other approaches to diminish PCOS-related aggravation incorporate standard exercise, rehearsing care, and other pressure lessening exercises.

In conclusion, focus on rest. Getting eight to nine hours of rest every night can help your INFLAMMATORY PCOS battle irritation just as rest.

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feistymichelletrashywriter-blog · 7 years

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Eat Don't Drink

I've been here working in the yard. It's all clear now - only a few vines & I've started planting vegetables and flowers. I'm starting everything from seeds.

Here is what is this about. I don't know what I'm about. Most people ignore me now and I'm not sure why, but I'm pretty sure that I don't want to know why, and even if I knew why, I wouldn't remember anyway. I'm a handful on my best of days. My best of days happened decades ago. I can hardly live with myself. And I'm not. Nobody is. Time is something that speeds by on a billion schedules, and patterns its way around the world in an interactive lacy web. Life billows. I get tired easily and right now I'm busy imagining the reality of slitting my wrists. I'm scared. I'm this tired because I hardly eat. Also, my brain has stopped functioning, which is exhausting. For once, this isn't on purpose. I haven't made it to the store yet, Jerry. I haven't made it anywhere at all. I have a past. Once, I had a mother and a father and a sister. I had a first husband. They're all dead. I am overwhelmed, usually because I'm on the floor, and everything is tall. I'm so hungry that when I try to eat I just puke, naturally. My throat and my fingers have been on a break. I feel like I'm washing away. I feel like a melting pile of snow. I feel like I should be in the forest, climbing redwood trees. I feel like I need a nap but I can't sleep. I want to die. I want to live. I want to live a different life. I want to write something good. But I don't know what good is, and I'm convinced that nobody knows what is good. I want to stop dwelling in the comprehensive state of my racing pulse, my speedy heartbeat. My mother's voice.

I am forty-three. My mother died when she was forty-three. She died right after surgery to remove her brain tumor. The last time I saw her, she was on a gurney, sedated, her long, curly brown hair looking like it was being mulled into a cap. I watched her being pushed, under a blanket, on the gurney, through blue hospital doors, that closed. That was the last time I saw my mother breathing. Two days later I saw my mother again. She was in a hospital room, dead. Her bed was against the east facing wall, and there was only one bed in the room. She still had that cap on her head. It was the only time I ever saw my mother's hair look so lifeless.

Now I am forty-three. I had surgery. I am still alive, technically. I often wonder if my mother and I had brains that weren't built to work for more than forty-three years.

I want to see flowers. I want to feel warm water. I want to feel waves crashing against my back. I feel stupid. I feel smart. Do I feel smart because I'm so stupid? I want to be happy. I want to eat. I want my hair to not fall out. I need a break. I need a brain. I want a break that lasts me the rest of my life and beyond. I don't want to remember being eight years old with my gymnastic teacher's hands in my pants. I want my hair back. I want my life back. I want a sandwich. I want ice-cream. I want to eat without the goal of puking into the nearest toilet. I want to sleep. Forever. I want to live happily. Indefinitely. I want to hold my newborn son, every one of these days. I want to be in love and mean it. I want to hide in a lake. I want to hide with fish. Instead I'm hiding where everyone can see me. I remember the blasting sound of my typewriter hitting cement after I threw it over my balcony. The paper on which I had been typing was still in my typewriter when it hit the ground.

This should have your special consideration. The lighter it is the better, but it must be strong. If you're going by air, remember that sixty six pounds. If you're going by boat, it is well to remember weight also. It is always better to be able to carry baggage, there may be no porter. You can ship extra baggage, of course, and it should be sent to the plane or ship at least twenty four-hours before your departure. Obtain labels for your baggage from ship or plane. For the boat, mark it "Wanted" or Hold". Do not lose your claim checks and be sure that your baggage is with you on plane or ship. It is recommended that all baggage be insured.

What do you do when you've lived your life and survived? Do you get a shotgun and kill yourself? Do you shoot yourself in the head? If so, how do you do it? Point at your temple? Or do you shove the gun down your throat, pointed up to get a good shot, to do the deed, seal the deal? Your arms are not long enough to hold a shotgun. Also, you don't have a shotgun.

You have: bleach, a box of razor blades you bought twenty years ago, at Flax, and a very sharp chef's knife. But the knife was a birthday present so it seems disrespectful to use it to slit your wrists. Plus, wrist slitting seems like an acute challenge and you've never been good with details.

There are many variables in something you've seen perfectly executed thousands of times, in films. In movies, most of the time, when people get killed they get killed with a bullet. Pills are for the wealthy. In movies, wealthy people are poor.

Jesus is not some abstract idea or person who died 2,000 years ago. He is alive. He said, "I will never leave you." He knows you cannot do it alone. We are too weak, every last one of us. Who do you know that really "has it together"? No one- not you, not me - there is no security here. No perfection here - yet- until he returns. There is no plateau that we reach on earth where everything is happy and harmonious because of our physical appearance, our home, our job our income - that is grasping at empty air and only in our spiritual life will we reach it -- only with Jesus accepting His Love -- in believing in Him can we experience that security & happiness that everyone seeks.

What you want to do is you want to put the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Die in the bathtub, or maybe a field of gravel. Surrounded by blood: trickling, splattering, dripping. Sticky hair, messy. But not too messy, the point is to die with as little mess as possible, hence the bathtub. And a field doesn't require a heartache of cleanup. Death is nature.

It's a method of problem solving. It's a process of a set of rules. It's Wikipedia. They trick you. They teach you your times tables, and that x=0 but they never call it a language or reveal that zero actually means nothing other than nothing.

Meanwhile, at night, when you lie in bed, concentrate on the areas that bother you (your sinuses) let your mind sort of float through your sinuses. Then feel that the spirit of the lord is flowing there, soothing & healing - drying up your sinuses (you can even try it at work when you are troubled). You can ask Him to remove the pain. Just say, "Please, Jesus, take away my suffering." Just try it.

It's like when I would wait to take calls, like from the guy in Santa Clara who got raped when he was thirteen. While riding home from school, he got pulled off his bike. That man paid me $1.99 a minute to listen to the story and I was never given an algorithm for that. He raped himself every day, having unprotected sex with strangers, and then paid me to hear the stories. I could not fix him.

It took a lot of years to understand algorithms and I still don't. I was never very good with math. That's where they trick you. It's not about math or numbers or logic. It's not, but they trick you. Logic. They throw around so many terms, all the terms, and they leave you. You wonder what the words mean: are they word problems? Calculus? Blind luck?

1988 I've been here working in the yard. It's all clear now - only a few vines & I've started planting vegetables and flowers. I'm starting everything from seeds. We are on meth, and I'm looking really great. I'd gotten down to 114 pounds, I hadn't been at that weight since I was like fourteen years old. That was two years ago.

I once read a book where the lady had to get dressed at a man's house, and borrow his clothes, and when she put on his boxers it felt really nice that they were so big on her. She had to roll the elastic top over so the boxers would stay up. I know how she feels. Well, I wish I did. Sometimes I buy clothing a size or even two sizes too big so they'll hang loose on my hipbones. I have a thing about hipbones. Later my best friend would say I only dated "angular" men.

The loose fabric makes me feel smaller, tiny, itsy-bitsy. My father called me Skinny Minny the other day and it was his only fleeting compliment that's ever made me feel that good.

Danny's going to be here any minute. Every day I listen for the engine of the 350 in his Camaro. I have this thing. I can pinpoint voices and car engines, both of which can sooth me or make me break out in a cold sweat. Our house is located on a corner with a stop sign. I hear a lot of cars.

It's our six month anniversary. He's really into me, and I like him too. He can beat up anybody. Everybody at school, and other schools, are afraid of him. People are afraid of me, too, but I have no idea why, other than I get in a lot of trouble at school, when I go. When I went.

There is a store in San Jose called People's Pants. It's the only place in the entire Bay Area that sells the ziparound pants that I like. Now that I'm 114 I can zip a size two around me.

The pants look great. I have a white tank top to wear with them. I forgot from where I stole the top. I wait for Danny to pick me up.

2013

*July 28, 1963 Florence, Italy Weather: Warm In the morning we went to the Uffizi Gallery. Spent about 3 hours there looking at some of the most beautiful paintings we have seen yet. I especially enjoyed Michelangelo's "Holy Family" and Botticelli's "Birth of Venus." *

This is my second life. We're not supposed to live this long. We're supposed to be dead by the time we're thirty-eight. And that's an old statistic. Sometimes I wonder if I'm still in my younger body because I missed something. I'm younger than they are now. By a long shot. Five years is a world of difference. Add another five or six on there and there you are, snorting lines with someone who's never heard of Steely Dan. Then you turn around and your window is gone. All you have are years.

My first word was machine.

1988

We are on crank, and I'm looking really great. I'd gotten down to 119 pounds, I hadn't been at that weight since I was like fourteen years old. That was two years ago.

When I was three we had a house in Trinidad, California, where our backyard was an expanse of redwood trees from our yard, way past the border of Oregon. We had stories. We had a lighthouse. We had fairies in tree ears and a darkroom in our garage. We had poppies and a Ford. When we were driving, my dad would flick his cigarette out the window and point out flower fields. At home, he often told us that he was becoming an archaeologist and that's why we were living in Humboldt County. Then he would take a syringe and go into the bathroom.

The best part about that Ford was the floor of the front right seat. I would sit in my mothers's lap. There was a hole in the floorboard, about the size of a large and torn receipt. I would look down between my feet, and my mother's feet too. I would lean down, my mother's hands on my shoulders, and look through the hole in the floor of the station wagon, the patterns of grey concrete, gravel, and tar, sliding beneath us.

There is a kind of light that is transcendent an infinite amount of times because it is unique to the interpretation of every individual. A glowing light, the light of waking up outside, thirty minutes after dawn. Fluorescent lights over a cubicle or a grocery store aisle--all the lights become so indefinite they are impossible to explain. There is a moment where the light is transcendent because we know it's part of us. I think that is why we question the stars.

1977

Dear Mother, I finally have a few minutes to write. We have been so busy with the pictures. It's getting to be an every day, all day thing. We are either making pictures or Bob is out selling them and I am catching up on my laundry & housework & trying to do something with the kids. I really should go to the store now, walk to the mall, and get milk and dinner for Bob. He is in Trinidad selling now.

See you at on Jesus' Birthday!!

The dogs were called Rabbit and Sunshine. They saved my life but I don't remember that. I was hardly one year old. We were camping on the beach. We always camped on the beach because we never had a house. My mother woke up and she saw my little footprints in the sand, walking straight out to the ocean. And then the footprints were gone. And so were the dogs. There were dog footprints too, and all the trails were vanishing with the ebb of every wave. It must have been early, daybreak. On the coast that is a very bright light.

1977/1997

I was six. My mother and I were walking up 17th Street, in San Francisco. Seventeenth Street is one of those steep, winding hills that goes straight up to another hill. I was wearing my favorite red jumper, the one my mother made me, and those red sandals, the ones that I still wore even though they were two sizes too small. I was holding my mother's hand as we reached the top of the hill.

I looked down over the City. The pointy houses poked into the blue sky. The bay seemed so still and wet, as if the artist had just finished painting the water.

Still holding my mother's hand, we stepped into the crosswalk. I looked over and up into the gleaming grill of a green Chevy Camaro. It gently rolled into me, and I remember experiencing the strangest sensation, like the bottom of my body was being sucked under the Kermit green mass of metal. Then I heard my mother screaming and pounding the hood of the Camaro. The car stopped and my mother grabbed me, hysterical, but she always kind of was.

"Are you okay?" Are you okay?" she asked, one hand gripping my shoulder the other hand gripping my wrist. She was always very uneven.

I was okay, but I had lost one of my shoes. Those were my favorite shoes.

Not a lot of people have hazel eyes anymore, but my mother did. A dark turquoise, with brown specks, long brown lashes. Curly red brown hair. More brown now than red.

When she calmed down I looked up into the peering faces of a group of people. There were two women in long printed skirts--pastels, floral--and two men wearing shirts with ties. They were together, couples, two couples. Four of people.

The man in the red tie told my mother that God had saved her child from death. The other three people agreed, enthusiastic. After my sister died my mother thought I was some kind of holy child, so, she agreed to come to their church, and then looked at the bridge and thanked God for sparing me.

I never knew my father, but I didn't care. My mother was all I needed. She would take me to work with her at Free Love Fabrics. After Kindergarten, every day, at 12:30, there she was. And on weekends we would go to Golden Gate Park.

But not that Sunday. As I was lacing my shoes (new red shoes, a gift from Jesus), my mother came into my room and told me to change into something nice. She told me that we were going to church. If I went nicely, she promised me ice-cream after church, at Bud's.

We went to church. The building was white and pointy, with chipping paint. There seemed to be an endless amount of cement steps that led to two large wooden doors that opened into the church. As soon as we stepped inside, a woman appeared and asked if we were new, obviously knowing that we were. She had bright blonde hair pulled back into two pink plastic barrettes, like I wore. Her lips were red and her eyelids were blue. She wore a pink shirt, buttoned to her neck, and around the collar hung a gold cross. The cross had roses on it, around the edges.

"I'm Minnie, the Christian Girls' Sunday School Teacher." She grabbed my hand and led me through The Church. The Church was unlike anything I had ever been enclosed in, but just like all the churches I saw afterward.

She kept leading me, between two long rows of benches. On the back of each seat perched a big blue book with HYMN printed in gold. The floor descended as we approached the front of the large room, which caused me to trip over my new, now untied, shoelaces. Nevermind that. She drug me down, through the rows, down the stairs, into a subterranean room, under where the pastor stood on a stage.

Sunday School. The first thing I saw was a piece of art on the wall. A man with only a cloth draped below his protruding hips. He hung on a cross. His hands were nailed to the cross. I'd seen Jesus on a cross before, but never with nails and blood. Before, he always seemed to be just floating up to heaven.

I took a few steps closer to the painting. Up close, I saw blood dripped from little black holes in his wrists. Wrapped around his head was a prickly looking hat, and blood seeped from there as well. His feet were also nailed to the cross and blood pooled around his toes. The man's ribs stuck out, pointing at me. His eyes glowed yellow, following me wherever I went.

Where I went was a plastic orange chair that Minnie pushed me into. Minnie forced me into. Then she pushed me and the chair toward a round table, like the one we had in our kitchen. As she pushed, the metal legs scraped the concrete floor, like a scream. I was starting to wonder if an ice cream cone from Bud's was worth church.

There were five girls at the table. They stared at me. They were all older. I saw the same look in their eyes that I saw in those of the fifth graders at school, those girls who like to follow you down the hall and laugh at you while making fun of your homemade dress.

I focused on Minnie. She was giving me my first Bible lesson. I learned the story of Abraham and Isaac. Abraham was married to a woman who had a produced him one son, named Issac. Then she was barren, which meant she couldn't have any more sons. Isaac was about thirteen years old when an angel asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac to God. Abraham was reluctant, but he said okay.

As Abraham was about to throw his son, Isaac, into a fire pit (Minnie showed us a picture), the angel appeared again and said it was all just a test of Abraham's faith. The moral was, we should all be willing to sacrifice our children if God so wishes. If my mother decided that God was her father, I hoped God never asked my mother to prove her devotion.

Finally, Sunday School was over. I looked anxiously to the door, expecting my mother to be waiting, just as she was after a day at Kindergarten. But she wasn't there. The other girls from the table were huddled in a corner, and I knew they were laughing at me. I could tell because every few seconds they would look at me, then try to pretend to hide their giggles. I felt, for the first time, self conscious. My red jumper seemed babyish and my new shoes seemed too new, and why did my mother put my curly hair in pigtails?

I felt my eyes sting tears, and my throat start to close down. I was trying hard not to cry, and my throat hurt from it. Crying in front of these Christians would only give them more incentive to make me miserable. Then my mother appeared in the door way. She smiled at me as I walked past her into the hallway, and away from the young Christian girls, Minnie, and Jesus Christ.

My mother knelt down and looked up at me, her hazel eyes a bright, bright green. "How are you?" she asked.

I looked down at her. "Can we get ice cream now?"

My mother took my in her arms and whispered, "It will be better next week."

That night I didn't dream of fairies. I was running through a tall field of grass. The sky reflected neither day or night. Though there was no water near me, I felt as if I were wading through ocean waves. In the back of me were the Christian girls from Sunday School. They were laughing, pointing, spitting at me. Each one had long blonde hair, parted in the middle, like Marsha Brady. In front of me was Jesus Christ, holding out his bloody hands. His stomach looked like those of the starving children on TV. I was flustered because I couldn't decide if I should go forward to Jesus or back to the Little Christians. I was sure Jesus Christ was hiding underneath my bed, so I ran down the hallway to my mother's room, afraid he was following me.

Earlier, when my mother came into my room to tuck me in, I asked her to tell me a story, I hadn't heard one in a long time. She was quiet for a moment.

She pushed my hair behind my ear, her long fingers soft on my skin. "Those stories we used to say, what I said, those stories are Pagan and would not please God."

I scrunched up my eyes, my fingers, and my toes. "But what about the fairies' ears?"

My mother stroked my ear. "How about I listen to your prayers? Remember, if you don't remember all of your sins you won't go to heaven."

I couldn't remember all of my sins. A few days ago I forgot to pick up blackberries that had fallen off the bush and into the yard. Was that a sin? I turned on my side and bit my lip. After a bit my mother stood and walked across my room, her slippers scraping the wood floor. The door shut and she was gone.

I've been here before. Some of the staff know me. I don't know them. I don't know myself. A few months ago, in April, (it is now October) I had surgery. That surgery took place in this hospital. They took out my gall bladder. I don't miss it. What I do miss is my memory, which also was removed during that surgery. I remember being in my thirties, kinda. I am now forty-three.

It's okay to be judgmental. However, it only is acceptable to be judgmental toward people who are deemed to have problems with things like drinking, and other habits that people give up on Mondays and January First. Like eating.

I've told people I've got an eating disorder. For decades, I throw up every day. When I mention this to anyone, which I rarely do, my words are meant with a look of confusion, a change of subject, and is never, ever brought up again. People don't have this reaction when you say you drink every day. Alcoholism is an acceptable subject for judging. Bulimia is not.

Because you can judge a drinker. It's easy because everyone's been shitfaced. So you know. You understand. You are very aware of the ins and outs of drinking or using drugs. But you're stronger because all you retained were a few hangovers.

When it comes to surreptitiousness, judgement, and, most of all, help, eating disorders are still hidden. Justified. Pitied. Ignored. Everybody eats.

"Hello?" The soft voice comes through the brown door, with the thudded sound of knuckles tapping wood, three times. The silver industrial handle has no lock and the handle rests a tad too much to the right. In Saint Mary's Hospital, everything is crooked.

When I hear the knocks, I'm reading Facebook. People have such pretty lives.

It is the voice of a doctor. The doctors have different voices than nurses, and the doctors always open the door as they say my name. Nurses knock, then walk in, softly.

"Michelle?" The door opens.

I am on day eight in Saint Mary's. I know this hospital is called St. Mary's because when I look through my window, down four floors and to the right, I see the neon LED sign that spans the entrance to the emergency room. Saint Mary's, in a bright, glowing red. I am in room 407. That's me. 407.

I know I'm a writer but all I can read is music. And now I sing. I sing a lot and I write music. When I hear myself sing, I remember that my voice is horrible.

My current stay is based on a seizure, the concluded result of alcohol withdrawls. I know this is can only partly be true. I had had a couple of shots of vodka less than twelve hours prior to the violent seizure that led me here. The seizure that took place while I was attending an AA meeting. I only went the the meeting so I could honestly say I did to people who have no fucking clue what the fuck their judging about. I know AA very well. My father and two of his brothers preached about it for decades, until they died from overusing alcohol and heroin.

I've heard the nurse explain 407 to other nurses. This happens when a new nurse takes a night or morning shift. I hear these conversations, as they take place, usually, a few feet from where I'm staring at the ceiling from my hospital bed. At St. Mary's. What has struck me as interesting, repeatedly, is that I swear all of these conversations have taken place in Spanish. They haven't. But they have. I don't speak Spanish.

January 8, 1990

HEY WHAT'S UP? Not much here. Sorry I haven't written. I've been busy with Danny. I told you I'd get him! I've been wired all weekend. I haven't eaten. Last night me & Danny saw Scrooged. He's so nice. He's got a Camaro! My favorite. I'm usually very picky. I just can't stand his bell bottoms that he wears all the time. He's *almost the perfect boyfriend. He's got drugs most of the time. He's always got pot. I got my Ozzy ticket. I'm so stoked!! *

June 16th 1963 New York City, New York Hot, very sticky, but no sun

We arrived at La Guardia Airport in New York around noon & then took a taxi to the Paramount Hotel in the heart of the city. After we settle in the hotel 3 others and I went to the matinee at the Radio City Music Hall, then at lunch is an "automax" recommended by our taxi driver. After dinner we took the subway to the empire State Build. When arriving on our floor at the hotel saw Kim Johnson who was in route to Europe. He and 3 others took Paula & I to Greenwich village, we went to a coffee house and then to "The Room at the Bottom."

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