Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Saturday, March 28, 2020
Friday, March 27, 2020
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Story 3 Survivalist Backpack Rough Draft 1: This story belongs to Eliza Jane Bout, please ask before you use any of it and give credit if you do use any of it.
When
the world falls apart only the well prepared or the very lucky or
both ended up surviving. It was best to be both because luck only
lasted for so long while being prepared can keep one alive a bit longer if luck should fail you.
“Man
will be the weapon that puts man back into prehistoric times, without a planet to stand on.” Dr. Raye
Emmaline Raye
I
never seemed to belong, and yeah, I get that all teenagers say that, but
I mean it. Since the moment of my birth it seemed. The other babies
would cry until I left. My father named me after his favorite unknown
singer/writer from the 1920s. I have always been fat. I know no one
is suppose to say the word F.A.T. but that is what I was and still am
to a degree fat. And to boot I was too smart for my own good. I
loved to learn, a habit my father encouraged. I was smarter then
many of my teachers. After a while the differences were to many to
number. I was too dyke for this group, too girly for another group,
to weird for the weird group So I kind of just stood alone. And here
I am standing alone again. I am all alone and the world has ended.
Not
like the physically or mephorically but civilaztion has come to a
very quick halt. 1 in every 10,000 people is alive. I ended up a
winner in a god’s lottery. Like some goddess happen to look into
the mortal world and say damn I love that girls style, talking about
me. So I win the stay alive ticket. I have to say I am really
overjoyed, but Not. Here I am the biggest loser ever cause I didn’t
even get invited to the biggest event of all, “ the ending of every
thing any one knows.”
I
don’t know why everyone is dead, in fact I don’t even know if
they are dead, maybe they just went on holiday and left everything
just standing. What I do know it that siome them seem to go up in a
PUFF. Yeah go ahead and laugh, I’ll wait for you to finish. OK
just let me tell you the story and you decide what you think. Let
start with this one thought.
I was sitting in my history class on Friday morning, around 10 am.. I
was in a college class at the local city college. I am just a bit
too smart. That’s how the gods even things up. Really smart and no
social skills. I am still debating which one is the best. At least I
was beautiful and talented even if no one else saw it the same as I
did.
I
love history -I so get it. By knowing where we come from will help us
decided whre we want to go. It was my 2nd class of the day
and it had gotten started a little late. The teacher is lecturing on
how heretics were burned at the stake. I look up at the clock and it
showed that it was 10:15 AM. When all of a sudden the room got very
braight and hot. I closed my eyes, just a blink and my eyes open to
find sparkling grey dust falling from the ceiling, like sand being
thrown up by a kid and then raining down. I cough and smelled a
sulfuric smell like something burning. My eyes were burning. As my
eyes start to tear up. I wipe my eyes and saw grey streaks on my
hand. I put my head down, heart beating, shocked and confused. I
waited thinking I was in a fire. I wa in a dull shock and my brain
said freeze.
The
dust settle and I was all alone. That got me freaking out. I finally
just let out an ear piercing scream- long drawn out that left me
panting. Just numbe felling and me panting. I ened up peeing my
pants. I just sat and sat I didn’t know for how long. Slowly my
heart slowed down and feeling came back, my brain realized that no
one had shown up. I look around and saw little black circles on the
chairs around me. Black circles with spikes pushing away from the
center looking like a many pointed star.
I
stood up and looked under my ass. Nope-no black many pointed star. I
went to where the teacher was standing, yep black smudge marks there
too. OK Like I said I am too smart for my own good, but my brain was
having a real hard time understanding what was obvious. They blew up,
they puffed in a ball of fire, self contain fire. Instantious
Combustion. I have seen stories on TW and onlinem, but never really
believe it. But nothing else, well maybe aliens or some secret
government weapon, might have done it but that didn’t explain why I
was still standing.
I
back towards the window, I turned and look out the window and saw
cars that had hit each other or were just stopped in the middle of
the road. And grey dust , sust sparkling on the lawna nd black
smudges on the sidewalk. This starts my heart beating again. I am
racing, my thoughts, my heart. I am teering on the edge, Am I
dreaming, having a halluciaation, a crazy episode. Yeah, right now I
am sitting in a rubber room some where and this is all a dream.
Maybe it is a stroke. I slid down the wall untill my ass hit’s the
floor. I wait to see if my world comes back in focus. I sang the
whole song, “ Stairway to heaven” Taking a deep breath, I stand
up.
“
And she’s bying a a stairrrrrway to heAaaven.. OK, just close your
eyes and every thing will come back. 1,2,3” I opened my eyes and
nope all grey and ashy still. Damn. I stood looking at my favorite
shoes wondering what I should do. I am startled by a crash and turn
around to look outside and see that a car has ran up the grass and
hit the side of the building across from me. From what I can tell
there is no one in the car and then I see and hear more cars crashing
in to each other. They are all empty as well. My mind kind of takes
over and I realize that the reason I am seeing all the cars is
because every one has done a poof and the cars were still moving so
many minutes afterward based on how fast they were going. I begin
stroking my braids something I had done since I was little and my mom
would be doing her impression of a looney toon.
Damn
I haven’t though of her in a long time. My mom is dead. I live, I
mean I lived with my father who I called Poppy and my GrandMam(who
was my mother’s mother). My Poppy and my mom got married when my
Poppy was 48 and my mom was 18. My mom was a very crazy lady but no
one knew that(except maybe my GrandMam and she didn’t tell). Yep
you can see how that pissed off a lot of people. My Poppy believed
her when she had said she just needed someone just like him and who
knows maybe she meant it but no one will ever know because while she
was having me three weeks after they got married, she had a stroke
that killed most of her brain.
My
Poppy quit teaching so that he could take care of her and me. When my
GrandMam’s fourth husband died she moved in with us to take care of
me. I wasn’t her only grandchild but I was the only one that she
could get close to since not of her other children really like her
much. My Poppy built her, her own house on our property. She was as
smart if not smarter then my Poppy and later I always wondered how
she ended up with my mom or being alienated by her other four kids.
Apearrantly my mom was her favorite. My mom eventually die because
she got out of the house and ended up in a pond. She may have been
chasing frogs, which were a favorite past time and slipped. Her body
was found about an hour later. She had drowned most likely because
she couldn’t remember how to swim. I was seven at the time. I
remember thinking that I was glad that she was gone because she was
always doing looney stuff and she scared me. Then I felt really bad
about not liking my own mom. Poppy really loved her and was always
sad after that.
Oh
I remembered where I was and where I wasn’t. Poppy, I need to get
home. I need to get home. I need to get home. I was repeating it very
quickly, almost in a panic but I wasn’t sure how I was going to get
there. On Tues and Thurs I carpooled with a bunch of kids. I hoped on
of them was around. I had a hard time wrapping the idea of what had
happen around my brain.. I grabbed my bag and headed out the
classroom door. I didn’t really pay much attention of my
surroundings then, I learned my lesson later.
For
some reason I went to the theater parking lot even though my class
had faced the entrance of the school. Then I remembered that Jean
always parked her car in that lot even though it was the furthers
from Jean’s class. I think I just wanted to go by the art class,
oil painting was going on. As I passed the art gallery and
classroom, I stopped. I put my hands on the glass that normally
allowed you to watch the painters but there was no painters and I
could see the ash laying on the paints and the pictures like tiny
pieces of glitter. It was just too much, so I hurry around the back
of the building to the parking lot.
I
looked around the parking lot seeing that I either had to take one of
the cars that was already started or hope that some one else was here
in a car or I would be walking. Some of the cars were pushing into
each other and I suddenly understood that was because the car’s
driver had poofed just like everyone else and the cars ran into each
other. The exit out of the parking lot was blocked. I decided to
cut across the school towards the entrance of Shasta College. I
looked and cars were still moving off the road while there were some
here and there that had just stopped. Mostly because they might be a
manuel and once the gas was let up, the car stopped and the engine
stalled. I run across the campus because I started to releazie that
there was no one around and it was very scary to me to be the only
person around.
As
I ran acrossed the little bridge that went over the little creek to
come out on Old Oregon Trail I hear car engins rumbling and saw cars
off to the side and some on the roads. I wasn’t sure what to do. I
could walk home. For a moment I considered my options and then I
walked to the nearest car just idling in the road. It was moving
ever so slowly backward like just before its driver poofed or
disappeared or whatever, the person had been backing up their car out
of the cleared area that was next to the church. I tried the door and
found that it open. I saw the gray dust and chared leather like
material of the seats. At first I just let the open door keep
hitting me forcing me to move with the car until I took a deep
breathe and jump into the seat. The car was one of those big SUV
types that Poppy told me would be the death of the planet, if we
didn’t make sure that they were ‘green ‘before buying them.
It
sat up higher then I was use to in a car but at least it was
comfortable. The radio was playing from an Ipod. I turned it off to
see if I could find out anything but a song from 103 red was playing.
I don’t’ know why but that seem odd to me, guessed I figured
that the person driving had been a young person, while 103 Red was
the classic rock station. Bad me for assuming that only old people
listen to classic rock. Poppy liked lots of kinds of music but Big
Band was one of his favorite styles as well as celtic music featuring
bag pipes and fiddles.
I
only lived about ten miles from the college going north west. Poppy
had bought a big tract of land in 1981, so that he could have various
gardens going. He had builded his own little paradise on the top of
a hill. I could walk to the end of our property and see all of the
northern part of the Sacramento Valley. We had five green houses a
huge front and back yard which were really fields that he grew
different types of grass in. Trees and hedges mixed with blackberry
bushes and aloe vera made natural fences with the real fence hidden
from view.
My
Poppy was an old hippie who loved plants and piano. Our house sat
about two miles off of Walker Mine Rd off of Lake Blvd. There were
other houses but the nearest one was about a mile down the hill. My
Poppy ’s name was Harold Kevin Raye. He was youngest of a Ranger in
the US Army. His father had been very parinoid and made sure that all
his children would be prepared for the ending of the world. Poppy had
been born 1944. He was 25 years younger then his oldest sibling. His
mother had die in childbirth. Poppy had been raised by all of his
sisters and he entered college because he had a love for plants. He
was a beatnick and then a hippi. In the 1970s he wrote two series of
books on surviving on one’s own. The fist set that contain ten
books was called Hippie’s Paradise. The second set was called The
Survivilst Backpack. I haven’t read the second set at all but I
have read all the Hippi books.
Poppy
after writing the first series began travaling. He came through
Northern California during a talk circuit about the importance of
saving the world’s plants. He was an author for fun though he held
a doctore in botny, he would say to me how funny it was that he got
paid more for his writing then for his plants. His hobby was paino
playing and he made money doing that as well. Poppy was a very talent
but lonely man.
He
had many friends all over the world but no one special until one
night he was on his way back from Eureka where he had some friends
who own a bar in Blue Lake. He would go over that way about three
times a year to play piano. He would spend the weekend and walk the
beach and buy some seeds from the local nurseries and pot growers.
He was at his favorite coffehouse in Eurkea watching the waves come
in when he saw this nymph, a mermaid, a goddess that was dancing on
the beach. Poppy had said that he had just sat there watching this
vision of beauty, thinking, wishing that he could meet someone like
her. Someone who could be free and dance no matter where they were
at.
On
his way back east to Redding, he left Clam beach and saw a his
goddess hitchhiking and he went about a mile and turned around and
offered her a ride. This woman who was only 17 was my mother. Lexi,
Alexendria Harris. My mother was a vision of beauty when she was
pregnant with me. He offered her a ride and she accepted. They
talked the whole way back to Redding and somehow my Poppy was able to
convice her to move in with him. They lived platonic life until two
weeks before I was born. My mother asked my Poppy to marry her so
that I would have a father and a family. I believe even though he
never said anything, that my father believed that she was going to
leave me with him after they had gotten married but he could never
prove it.
My
father got some friends to help and they went out of state to get
married. He treated my mom like a queen for the next two weeks and
lost her on the night I was born. On August 1st, 1993 he
ended up taking care of two babies. One a new born and the other a
grown woman who couldn’t remember ever being pregnant or her own
childhood. My father was always a hermit kind of a guy even though he
had many friends and was loved by all of them.
His
two series had been reprinted over five times. He had written many
books on farming and plants but those two series were the most
popular. Recently, I helped him make a web site called Hippi’s
Pardaise after the first series and that kept people interested.
Every year, he got invited to do book tours on those books.
The
urgency I felt thinking I needed to be home as fast as possible was
so distinct that I could almost taste it. I put the SUV into drive
and turned down the radio with the hope that I would hear what had
happen. But music just played then commericals. Which gave me a
false hope that maybe everything would be ok. One of the commericals
was for Flue Nomore. It was an informaercial about how the whole
world was nearly done and then no one would ever have to die or be
sick ever again from the flu.
I
remembered that I had an appointment to day to get my Flu Nomore
shot. I figured I wont be keeping that appointment which was fine
since I was freaked out when it came to shots. I had been really sick
the last time I was supposed to get it. Poppy and GranMa had gotten
theirs and Poppy had introduce her to Dr. Mayberry, who was a fan of
his that had requested a while back online for a signed set hey had
all gone to lunch and Poppy gave him the signed copy of the the
series of the Survivilst Backpack from the 1970’s. Poppy had told
them all that Penquin books had approached him about reprinting his
two series again, and they had some ideas for some revising that
would fancy the illustrations up a bit. They were his publishers for
his gardening and herbology books. Also the History Channel had
approached him about making a TV series about the Survivilst
Backpack.
I
had kind of listen but I was really watching Dr. Mayeberry. He was so
gorgeous. He looked like a doctor on TV. He was not as tall as me, or
Poppy but he was shapped nicely. I just smiled anytime he looked at
me, which wasn’t much and when he did he had that look that I was
familiar with. It was the look of an young adult gives a teenager. I
I get that look a lot because I attended college and most of the guys
didn’t want to date a young fat girl. I was so sure that if I was
thin and pretty they would have made a play. Dr. Mayeberry was
polite but I think all he saw was a fat, shy girl trying to be a
grown up. I was sure that if Dr. Mayeberry had met my mother, he
would have been smiling the whole time and he would have noticed her
at lunch. My friend Jean could have gotten him to look at her but
then Jean could get a dead man to look at her. As the old saying, she
was va,va, voom.
As
I went over the freeway on Pine Grove, I tried not to think of Jean.
I looked down at the freeway and almost lost any grip I was keeping
on my sanity. There were cars all over the place, some of them were
turned over from hitting into each other. Many were off the road.
But no where was there a single person to be seen. I looked back on
the road to help clam myself. I stopped for the street light until I
realized that it probably was point less but I waited anyway. The
world looked the same even though I couldn’t see any people but
Pine Grove wasn’t a very busy road on a normal day, so I wasn’t
surprised that I only saw one other car that had hit the curb and
stopped. I kept finding myself looking even though I was beginning to
realize that I may be the only person alive.
I
felt my mind go numb when I started thinking that maybe I was really
dead and this was really some kind of mental leftover from my life.
That caused the darkness to start bubbleing up and I had to fight the
urge to start blubbering and crying sensless again. I just gripped
the steering wheel and kept going. I was almost home.
As
I hit the beginning of our private road, I am relieved and scared
because I see my GrandMan’s little coop as well as our closest
neighbor Mr. Howard’s truck and his horse trailer. The vechicles
were blocking the road, like they had stopped to chat, which would
have been right on the mark cause GrandMam had a thing for Old
Howard. I pulled the SUV and shut off the motor. I just sat there
because even though I had felt a leap of hope and excitement of
seeing GrandMam’s car, I could see that she wasn’t in it. My
brain kept telling me that maybe it was because she was laying down.
I forced myself to get out of the car. I walked very slowly, hoping
that her head would pop up any second and I wouldn’t be all alone
but I made it eventually to the car door and looked down.
My
body sagged, no ash on the seat. That meant two things either she was
alive or she had gotten out of the car. I looked around and decided
that I would just drive the coop back up the hill. I looked down to
see if the keys were still in the car and they were missing. I
walked around Mr. Howard’s truck. Our mailboxes were behind the
left side of the truck. My pace slowed down because again I didn’t
want to see the keys or the ash that may have been there but as I
turn aground I saw that her keys weren’t’ there. I let out a sigh
of relieved and decided that I would just hike it up to the house,
until as I was turning away, something shinny caught my eye near Mr.
Howard’s door. Part of me, didn’t want to see what it was because
I knew what it was. I turned back and walked to it like I was
walking to my death and I saw that charm I have gotten my GrandMam
for her birthday. I felt the tears start to drip down my face, but I
was able to hold it together because I knew, that I had already known
that she wasn’t alive. Just as I knew…..no I didn’t want to
think about it at the time, just as I knew that my Poppy wasn’t
going be waiting for me at home. No matter. I got the keys and got in
to the coop and drove up the hill. I turn on her radio but got
nothing on it, just dead air. I drove up the hill to Hippi’s
Paradise with tears streaming down my face.
Check In: March 202
Greetings All, Shardvixen Here;
So I always miss my annual celebration of my channel which is March 6th. Making my channel four years old. Time Flys when you are having fun or just getting old, I guess. I have been making a lot of changes to my channels. Shardvixen's Magificent Channel no longer exists after Youtube decided to make sure kids were finally safe on their platform. I am not against kids being safe, just the way they are doing it. It is just more censoring. Youtube is learning that you have to censor against all the evil in the world because the world won't let you make money from it.
It is only an issue because Boo Boy loves to stream and interact with those who come to his streams. But now under the way the kids stuff is set up, he can not interact with anyone. Mostly he just visits my streams now. Which is why I will be putting up a playlist called Shardvixen's Magificent Playlist which will feature his game play and videos.
I am going to be doing art junk journals. I used to do a long time ago but I didn't find there was a lot of people that interested in them, but now more people seem to be. But even if no one likes watching my craft videos, it will be fun to create and give them away.
I am still working on my store on my discord. Now I will also be uploading my stories that I wish to animate soon. I am still working on animation, currently trying to get one done for another person, then finish the long one I have been working on. Then I will be working on some projects of my own. I will be doing this from now on even if it takes me forever to get them done. I got me a drawing table which helps a lot with coloring the frames and I am sure will help in creating pictures.
Hopefully you all are part of my discord, if not check out any of my videos posted here to find the connections to Shardvixen's Den. Yeah not really using the Grandmie nickname, but if that is how you know me, go ahead and call me that. Peace all.
So I always miss my annual celebration of my channel which is March 6th. Making my channel four years old. Time Flys when you are having fun or just getting old, I guess. I have been making a lot of changes to my channels. Shardvixen's Magificent Channel no longer exists after Youtube decided to make sure kids were finally safe on their platform. I am not against kids being safe, just the way they are doing it. It is just more censoring. Youtube is learning that you have to censor against all the evil in the world because the world won't let you make money from it.
It is only an issue because Boo Boy loves to stream and interact with those who come to his streams. But now under the way the kids stuff is set up, he can not interact with anyone. Mostly he just visits my streams now. Which is why I will be putting up a playlist called Shardvixen's Magificent Playlist which will feature his game play and videos.
I am going to be doing art junk journals. I used to do a long time ago but I didn't find there was a lot of people that interested in them, but now more people seem to be. But even if no one likes watching my craft videos, it will be fun to create and give them away.
I am still working on my store on my discord. Now I will also be uploading my stories that I wish to animate soon. I am still working on animation, currently trying to get one done for another person, then finish the long one I have been working on. Then I will be working on some projects of my own. I will be doing this from now on even if it takes me forever to get them done. I got me a drawing table which helps a lot with coloring the frames and I am sure will help in creating pictures.
Hopefully you all are part of my discord, if not check out any of my videos posted here to find the connections to Shardvixen's Den. Yeah not really using the Grandmie nickname, but if that is how you know me, go ahead and call me that. Peace all.
Sunday, March 22, 2020
Saturday, March 21, 2020
Friday, March 20, 2020
Sunday, March 15, 2020
Saturday, March 14, 2020
Friday, March 13, 2020
Sunday, March 8, 2020
Friday, March 6, 2020
Sunday, March 1, 2020
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)