Hope for Humanity.

http://listverse.com/2013/09/26/10-shocking-realities-of-modern-poverty/   <--- This.... is not okay.

I had a dream two night ago (that I am convinced is prophetic) about me establishing and opening a non-profit community center called Hope for Humanity.
It was an awesome dream.

So here is a little history for the reason why I want to do this before going into what exactly I'd like to offer at this community center:
I was lucky enough to grow up in middle class America. Unless my parents hid any financial struggles from us (my brother and I), we never wanted or needed anything. I had a really great childhood. We got tons of presents for our birthdays and Christmas, we got big baskets of candy for small toys for Easter, we never went a summer without a week (or so) long vacation. Growing up, I thought that was how everyone lived, so I was very ignorant towards poverty since I never experienced it. 
And it wasn't until I was about 21, when I moved in with a (ex) boyfriend and we lived together (on and off) for like 2 years until he decided to leave his job when he didn't have one lined up (I did the same a year earlier although the job that I had lined up became unavailable at the last minute). He had two kids, we had two dogs, two cars, and lived in an $1050 (after rent and utils) 3 bed/2 bath duplex in Live Oak, Texas. 
We got our water turned off for like 3 weeks, our electricity got turned off for 2 days, and we NEVER had any food. We ate what I brought home from work. After he started a job, ironically, about a month after, we had a lot of problems with our landlord because the original owners of the duplex sold property to another guy who raised the rent $150 a month more and failed to let us and I think the people who lived next to us, know. So court battles and all, we got evicted. And I had to leave my bigger dog with our next door neighbors and last time I saw him was August of 2010 :-(
Luckily, fortunately, that is my only experience with poverty. I was extremely fortunate in that aspect.

In my hometown, there was a YMCA where my mom worked for 17 years (she was sort of the glue that held that place together) and I'd go there everyday after school, I was a very active kid, creative, and always enjoyed going to the Y for sports or to hang out with my friends. When I was about 14, the Littlestown Y hired a new sports director named Mick Harner. On Friday nights there was indoor floor hockey that I was really into and I'd always end up sitting around and talking with him afterwards. I always saw him as kind of a mentor because he really made me think about what I was doing in life, and I give him credit for me allowing myself to have or try out a ton of ideas since we all need to find our calling.

I believe that everyone, no matter who they are, where they come from, or what their history is (sound like a Backstreet Boys song yet?), deserves a decent life. In my dream (and this is my goal) I had established and opened a community center that provides many services for lower class and poverty stricken families. 
Here are some of the services I'd lvoe to provide:

°Classes such as English (for non-English speaking individuals), Spanish (because being bilingual is a huge benefit now), healthy cooking, urban farming (container gardening, vertical gardening, urban livestock), art, music, and also have tutors for children who need help understanding their schoolwork so they can do better and have a brighter future.

°Day care, after school care, and holiday/vacation care for school age kids whose parents are having a hard time affording expensive day care.

°A gym for kids, teens, and adults who enjoy being active, social, and playing on community sports teams.

°A healing center where members can take yoga and pilates classes, a meditation room, and receive massage and reiki treatments (as a massage therapist, I have to point out that massage is NOT a luxury, it's very much a necessity, especially for peope whoa re struggling with poverty).

°I'd love to have a HUGE community garden where people who are taking urban farming classes can pratice (or others can volunteer), for families who can't necessarily afford to aways eat local, fresh produce.

°Also, since I can never leave animals out of my mind, I'd love to have an animal shelter on the property where people who can't have pets (for any reason) can enjoy the company of some animals and kids to learn a bit of responsibility of caring for animals.

° I'd like to offer addiction rehabilitation programs with life coaching.

°Mentoring programs.

°Soup kitchen.

°And also perhaps if I can get a big enough building, an area for families without a home to stay until they can pick themselves up. 

I realize (I say that but I probably have no idea) the work involved in this, I've done a lot of research. But I have had a wonderful life, I have been blessed with having my needs and even wants met. I need to give back. Send positive energy into the Universe so others can receive it. I need people to know that they are cared about and there ARE people willing to help them. 
I'd hold a lot of fundraisers and do whatever I can to fund the center and I'd like to get kids to learn the value of giving back also, for example, I'd like for the holiday/vacation programs to go on field trips to elderly homes to visit with the elderly who don't really have family who visit, to visit terminally ill patients in hospitals and maybe make some art or something for them, etc...

I realize that this is a dream and a big one, but I won't let that deter me from doing all that I can to achieve it.

Forgiving but Never Forgetting.

Friends come and go, but most of the time when they go, someone is left with the feeling of a knife in their back, usually stabbing through their heart.

I don't really know how people can fully forgive if they cannot forget.

I've tried it.

It's very difficult.

I've had many people in my 26 years who have done me wrong and I've forgiven some of them--- or at least I think I have. All of my life, I have been loyal to those who I believe have gained my loyalty, be it with friends, family members, or boyfriends. I would ALWAYS be there for them whenever they'd ask, to help comfort, move, let loose, give advice, cheer up, financial problems (as much as I could)... whatever they needed/wanted, I usually gave it to them without question of their motives because well, if they're someone close to your heart, why would you be suspicious of them, right? And I prided myself very much on being loyalm trustworthy, and a good friend, without being two-faced (I admit though, I HAVE talked behind the back of coworkers because I was angry at them, I'm not claiming to be an angel here), my mom always taught me that to be two-faced, tell secrets in confidence to others, or just plain be unloyal to those closest to our hearts is immature and just plain mean, and I didn't want to be that person since I knew so many of them.

When I was growing up in school and all, I didn't have a ton of friends, I knew a lot of people and talked to them, but there were only 3 times when I had a ''group of friends'', once in 5^th grade and once in 6^th grade. They both included my best friend.

Erin Shiloh.

I met her in kinder-prep when we were 4 and we became best friends instantly by me telling my mom that I wanted to invite the ''girl with the long brown hair'' to my birthday party.

We were pretty inseparable for like, 10 years.I never had any sisters but I always loved her like one. We spent so much time together people even said we were starting to look alike, our birthdays were close together, and I LOVED it when she moved up the road to me.

I was protective of her, I did my best to always be there for her when her parents went through a divorce, when she fought with her siblings, whenever. I was never a person who was into having a lot of friends, I didn't mind it if I did or didn't, but I always liked having that one best friend. For years, it was her, despite not feeling always on the same level as her. She was more dramatic about well, everything and cared (what I thought was) way too much of what others thought of her and how she appeared to everyone, whereas I didn't care and never really did. That was probably why I never really had too many friends, ever since kindergarten, I was called weird. After a while, I took pride in that.

I was the weird girl.

And I didn't even have to try.

She never seemed to care until we were in public and she's say, ''Dara.... people are staring at you...'' which started happening around the time we were in 9^th grade, so what... 14 years old?

In 5^th grade, she was in a class with a girl named Kellie Coleman who she made friends with and I was in a class with Kellie's best friend Emily Schumaker, who I made friends with. I'd never had a group of friends before that and it felt good to be included in something. Over the course of the year, I'd noticed that Erin would become a bit mean towards me at times, especially when Kellie was around. It got pretty annoying but I never wanted to confront her, for fear that I'd lose her as a friend. Then Kellie and Emily would become mean to me and I ended up feeling ganged up on, especially if we were having a slumber party with the 4 of us, and they'd tell me to wait for them downstairs and they'd be down in a few minutes, only for me to find out that they had no intention of meeting me and they'd lock the door to the room that they were in. Once at th concession stand after a softball game that we'd played in, Erin, Kellie, and I were getting some soda and candy, while they had gotten their stuff, I was still waiting for my soda, and Kellie whispered something to Erin, they giggled, and ran off without me. Kellie was a very skinny girl and I'd always been bigger, not necessarily fatter, but always tall and muscular, and at times in my life, a little chubby but not overweight. She'd always point out to everyone how skinny she was and how much bigger I was than her.

Just mean, unnecessary things like that.

Throughout middle school I was bullied by people and even though she was my best friend, Erin never had my back. And we'd both met other people who became our friends, she always ended up being on their side of making fun of me. I still don't know why. Maybe I was blind to it at the time.

We kept the general group of friends from 6^th grade until 9th-10^th grade, which consisted of myself, Erin, Kara Smith, Tyler Koontz, Adam Weller, and Katie Wilson. We all got along so well and it was great because there was hardly ever any drama between us. We could all hang out and act silly together and still laugh at ourselves and each other.

I met Katie in first grade, we became better friends in 6^th grade, and great friends in 9^th grade. We had a lot in common, one of the things we did together was go in public and talk in different accents. It was oddly fun for us, haha.

Anyway, during 9^th and 10^th grade, we were all in track and field together, minus Tyler, so after school in the spring, we were always together. Kara, Tyler, and I went to the same church, Erin and Adam were pretty religious (as was I at the time), so we did churchy things together. We all just had connections with each other. Adam and I had become very close for a number of reasons (nothing romantic, as I think he recently came out as gay, as did Tyler).

During 10^th grade, I met a guy who would have never fit into the group and I didn't try inviting him in, I just spent time with him outside of it. His name was Chuck Hamm.

During the summer of 2003, between 10^th and 11^th grade for me, I kept meeting up with Chuck and Erin always protested about it because h had long hair, rode a skateboard, and looked as if he didn't have a lot of money, or something extremely shallow.

At the end of the summer, he became my boyfriend.

During the fall of 2003, I didn't see Erin as much as I used to, I was involved in the school tennis team which took up a lot of my time, I had a job which kept me busy on Saturdays, and whenever I wasn't at tennis practice, and I ended up spending most of my free time with Chuck, as Erin spent most of her free time with whoever her boyfriend was at the time.

Also during that time, I became severely depressed.

I don't know why or how, it just happened, an no one, not my friends nor my family, or even I, understood the cause for it.

It really changed me, as depression does, I was not the smiling and laughing happy-go-lucky teenager with hopes of the future anymore, I was angry, sad, and joyless.

I think Erin blamed it on Chuck, but it had nothing to do with him. I think a lot of people blamed him. It just happened that we started dating and depression began. He was not mean or abusive towards me, he loved me and supported me.

I think it was around October or November when I called Erin up, after not really talking to her in school much since we had no classes together, and we were both busy with other things in our free time.

I told her that in school they told us to always tell people when we experience this... and she cut me off and asked if I had tried drugs.

What..???

Drugs? Why would she even say that? She knew that I had no intentions of desire of that.

I told her that I had suicidal thoughts.

She then said that she couldn't talk at the moment because her boyfriend would be there any minute, and asked if she could call back later.

That is when our friendship ended.

The rest of the school year we sort of ignored each other and Katie and I had become closerand I appreciate her support. We're still very good friends to this day.

Fast forward to the beginnin of 12^th grade... the first day of school Erin wrote me a note... wrote me a note, not talked to my face, and said that I'd changed and she was afraid for my well-being and blah blah blah. Katie and I, that night, concocted a reply that wasn't the nicest, it wasn't mean like calling her a bitch, which he had turned into, a stuck up one at that, it was more sarcasm.

I saw her in the hallway the next day and threw it at her, she read it, for some reason thought that I was threatening her, and then all the friends that we had together.. Kara, Tyler, Adam, and pretty much all the other ones, took her side, and I lost them.

Over the years I've tried to make peace with her without success until a few years ago, I just stopped fucking caring. I didn't want to throw a friendship like away but as I look back, she was never much of a friend to begin with, she was just a selfish bitch who wanted someone to boss around.

When I was 20, I met a guy, Joshua Harrington, through a friend who eventually became a boyfriend of mine and I moved from San Antonio, Texas to Nampa, Idaho for him. He claimed and believe himself to be a good Christian and aprophet of God, but he ended up lying to me about almost everything, hiding the fact that he sold cocaine from the duplex that we rented together, mistreating my family and friends, stealing from stores everything we had in our place, beating me up, and cheating on me with 6 other girls... in the bed that we shared, all the while telling me that I'm the apple of his eye, I'm his soulmate, he loved only me.

It took a piece of my heart, knowing that I moved to a place that I did not know or even really like for him, that I put up with his nutty ass family for him, and that for 4 months, I gave him my trust.

A lot of people have asked why I stayed with him after he started hitting me and I don't know. My mom is convinced that he somehow brain washed me and I am inclined to believe that that's an accurate assumption. I never thought I'd be one of ''those'' chicks, who stayed with a guy who abused them.. but I did. He tore me down and brought me back up, thinking that he helped me gain self esteem. If I were still a Christian, I'd believe he was the devil incarnate. 3 years ago he messaged me on Myspace (I know... Myspace...). That is the last I heard from him and good riddance to that monster.

When I was 21 I met a guy who joined my work team at a cafe in San Antonio. His name was Miguel Morales and when we met, we both instantly lusted after each other. He was 10 years older than me but it didn't matter. At the time, I was dating (and living with) a guy who was 16 years older than me. I felt so attracted to Miguel and felt so guilty for it, so I ended up ending this with my then boyfriend. He thought that I cheated on him with Miguel but I never did, never even considered it.

Miguel and I became incredibly close friends and we started falling for each other. I helped him with money, I helped him move twice,gave him rides to work when he lived across the entire city, I went so far out of my way to make him happy, I looked like a fool! I should have known a that time that he was not as interested in me as I was him when he never really asked me out. Lots of drama happened between us for the fault of us both, and he moved to Austin.

It took a year for him to finally ask me on a date. I was so happy. We went out to a Mexican restaurant, ooops... he forgot his wallet! I paid. I paid for a hotel room since by the time he was going to go home (from San Antonio to Austin) it was already 4:30am. We sat on the bed talking about what's been going on with each other the past few months, and he told me....everything that I wanted to hear. He wanted to be my boyfriend, he thought that he was ready to show me how much he cared for me, that I as perfect, he apologized for flirting with other women in front of me when we went out, and all these things.

The next day was Halloween (2009) and I texted him to come back to San Antonio for a party after I got off work. He agreed. We went there together, as a couple, and everyone we were friends with at my job (his previous job) were happy that we were together.

We both talked to different people at the party, and I talked into the living room where most of the people are gathered, a friend of ours tried to push me out, and I knew something was wrong.

A 17 year old red head was sitting on his lap...making out with him.

Ouch.

After all he said to me the night before.

Right through the heart.

I was so angry with him and told him everything that I needed to tell him, then I left. We lost contact for about a year or so, then we connected on Facebook. I ended up deleting him from Facebook and my life after I told my now husband about him. I don't blame Felipe for being angry and awkward about that.

Those are three of largest scars I have of knives in my back. I just wanted to make these people happy, they saw that and used me like a fucking doormat. Although these experiences were so hurtful, they were not in vain. I learned a lot about myself and others through them.

I have forgiven what Joshua Harrington has done to me because he was/is a severely misguided idiot, borderline sociopath. I believe. I will never, EVER forget it.

I have forgiven Miguel Morales for what he did to me because he was a selfish person who I just happened across and took advantage of my loyalty. I will never forget what he did to me.

I have not forgiven Erin Shiloh. I have tried but 12 years of loyal friendship should not equal ''go ahead and kill yourself, I want boyfriend time''.

I don't know how people forgive and forget so easily, or forgive and not forget. Some people say that forgiveness brings inner tranquility. I have not experienced inner tranquility.

Perhaps I haven't truly forgiven them afterall.

Dream Theatre: Grey Castle (Part I)

So I have had some extremely wild dreams, horrifingly disturbing and ridiculously adventurous, and I remember them all since I was about 14. I'm guessing due to my oddly active imagination, my love for symbolism, involuntary astral projection, and life experiences, these dreams happen. 

A good friend of mine, Abhinandan, from India is a filmmaker and we had a conversation once about these dreams and my memory of them, and he suggested that I write one in story format, and he'd make a film about it. How rad, right??? So here is the first part of a very frightening dream that I had in June of 2007. He is calling this the Dream Theatre. There are 3 pictures which he drew to illustrate a bit of what was going on in the dream, like visuals. I know there are probably grammatical or spelling mistakes, but I'm not writing a novel, I'm writing my dream.

A little history and my analysis of this dream: I had just been in a pretty horrible relationship with an abusive guy who really had me thinking me was someone else at the beginning. I ended up moving from Texas to Idaho for him and although I only lived there for 4 months, I felt as if I'd never get away from him. I think this dream symbolizes the deepest fears that I had during that time and also that I was never seen, never heard, and when I was heard, I was not only laughed at for speaking up, I was made to feel as if I had no worth simply because I am a female.

So without further adieu, here is Dream Theatre: Grey Castle:



I woke up to find myself without shoes, my hair unwashed matted to the side of my face, and wearing a tattered white gown. I rubbed my eyes and look around me. I was lying in grass. It was green to the point of being surreal. There were birds that are chirping happily. I was in a field surrounded by a lush forest. It was so beautiful. I was in a trance from it. I heard singing and laughter and talking and music in the forest. It seemed so joyful, it drew me in. I wanted to know where it came from. I got up, and although everything seemed so full of life and in good spirits, I could not even force a smile. At that point, I was not sure why. But I would soon find out. 

I started talking towards this siren-like singing and guitar playing, and as I got closer, the music became more intense. I soon started hearing big drums.. a timpany, bongos. Piano keys being pounded with fury instead of joyful tunes.

I entered the forest. The sunlight disappeared. The music ceased. The birds stopped chirping.
I looked down at my feet and noticed that there was a mist rising so quickly from the ground that by the time I realized it, I could no longer see my knees. My thighs. My stomach. I could not see what was right in front of me. I reached my arms out, trying to find my way. I wasn't even sure where exactly I was going. I was freezing cold and wet, as if I had just got done swimming in the north Atlanic Ocean in the middle of January. After a few minutes of silence, I started hearing what sounded like a woman screaming. Not in fear, but in pain. As if someone was tearing out her organs. I ran around in what seemed like circles trying to find her, buther screams did not seem to get any closer and finally, after running and running without any luck of discovering where she may have been... her screams ended. I don't know what they meant, but I assume it was a warning of what was to come.

I was scared, lonely, and still in a state of confusion as to how I had gotten to the forest. After wandering around the misty forest for some time, I remembered the music and singing and laughter. What then had really confused me, is how I had gotten to the field. I lived nowhere near a field like that. It was as if I had been abducted and laid carefully there, with a tattered dress, empty stomach, and unwashed body, as if the abductor was showing me hat horrible things they did to me yet had enough mercy to allow me to keep my life.

Suddenly I heard a crow. I stopped pondering and realized that I could see something. Barely. But it was definitely something. I started walking with haste. Then flat out sprinting towards it. I stopped when I saw that if I had gone an inch forward, I would have fallen off a cliff.

I was out of the woods. I looked back at them. Then ahead. Back at them. The ahead.

Ahead was what you see in old Dracula movies. A bridge of a small sliver of land, just wide enough to cross to the towering black castle with ravens and crows and bats circling it. They eeked and cawed and crowed so loudly that their echoes were boomeranged back to them. I couldn't see what was below the castle. It was like it's own island. The mist still existed, but most things were visible. I could see my hands in front of me. My stomach, My knees. My feet. My dirty, cut up, bleeding feet.

I looked back at the woods once more before crossing the land bridge to the castle. The only thing only thing on my mind at that time was eating something. Anything. I was dizzy and needed to raise my blood sugar levels or I'd be sure to pass out not only from lack of essential vitamins for my body, but from pure exhaustion. I cross the land bridge in 30 minutes,give or take.

I came to a door abut 4 or 5 times my height and knock on it.

BOOM BOOM BOOM.

No answer. I tried again.

BOOM BOOM BOOM.

No answer. I tried again.

BOOM BOOM...

The door creaked open slightly.

I pushed it open. Stared into darkness. Then descended into that darkness. I didn't want to say anything for fear someone would misunderstand my tone or words or anything. It was completely dark and again, I was without vision.

I stood there for a moment, unknowing of what to do next, and also wondering who opened the door. All of the sudden, lights turned on in the entire castle accompanied by a horrendous sounding... shreik... if that was even what it was. I looked at my feet, I guess to make sure I could still see them, my knees, and my stomach. I could. Something was strange. It was very strange. Maybe because of what I had just endured was also so strange that I did not realized it at the time, but it hit me. There was no colour. The blood on my feet, legs, hands, and arms... it wasn't red. I spotted a mirror on the wall to the left of the lobby that I was standing in. 
I saw my reflection.
My hair was not it's reddish brown colour. 
My eyes were not blue. 
My lips were not pink. 
Everything was grey. Or a variation of black and white. I looked at the wall. There was a grand stairwell that went to the second floor, opening at each side. I looked to door that I had come in from. I looked around. White, grey, black, charcoal, raven... everywhere. Everything was colourless. I turned back to my reflection and stared at my face. My pale white skin. My charcoal hair. 

 Then out of the corner of my grey eyes, I saw something move. In the mirror, behind me. In the room, I'm assuming what they called ''the drawing room'' or ''the sitting room'' in Victorian times, there was movement. Just slightly. Not of someone walking, but a quick movement.

I turned and walked toward the room only semi-cautiously, curious as to what was disturbing the solitude of this castle. When I entered the room, I saw a person, a female... sitting on a couch that was facing away from me, towards a lit fireplace. How had I not seen that light when I entered the castle? How had I not smelled it? There was something odd about how this woman was sitting. Her head was tilted to the right so much so that her ear almost touched her shoulder. It looked uncomfortable. As I approached, I heard a noise coming from near her. I was not sure if it was her or not, but it was near her.

I walked around the couch to see her face. And what I saw... was disturbing. It terrified me to where my bones felt as if they were made of ice.

I looked at her face. This woman, she was young. She had pale white skin. She had charcoal hair. She had grey eyes that were opened as wide as they could go and were staring straight ahead into the fireplace. This woman... she was me. She was smiling an unnaturally big smile. Her lips were sewn together with something.
Hair.
Charcoal hair.
Charcoal human hair.
Her hair.
My hair.
I was frozen. I had no idea what to do. Her positioning was disturbing. Her head was propped on her right shoulder. Her hands curled as if she was an old woman with arthritis. Her fingernails were long and punctured the palm of her bloody hands. I just stared at her. At me.
Just as I was about to leave the room, there was a loud crack, like lightning from a thunderstorm had struck the room, right beside me. The fire in the fireplace rose, then within less than 5 seconds, faded to just smoke, then nothing. I heard that scream again.The same agonizing scream from the forest. The woman who I could not find. It was coming from the chimney.

As her scream grew louder, chimney smoke filled the room. It blackened everything out. I couldn't see. I looked around panicking, trying my best not to inhale the smoke. In an instant, it was gone as if it had never been present. I looked back down at the woman, at me. Her eyes were fixed on me. Wide open, grey eyes. Then they shot to the corner of the room. I looked there, too. I saw a small yellow light bobbing up and down. Then two yellow lights. Eyes. They were eyes. Something was there. Something was jumping up and down. I squinted to get a better look but it was too dark. I took a step forward to see what it was. Just as my foot touched the ground, a noise came from the corner of the room where the yellow eyed thing was. I cannot explain the noise in words... it was just an abnormal sound. An inhuman sound. It seemed as if this thing was laughing at me. An inhuman, sinister laugh. I was about to walk closer to it when the eyes disappeared and the woman, me, made a sound. I whipped my head around to look at her... she was trying to communicate with me. Our eyes met. Her head started to move... it was shaking. She freed it from the position that it was in, on her right shoulder. Her right ear and some skin from the right side of her face was melted onto her shoulder. Her head was now straight, in a normal position, her eyes still wide, she seemed like she was trying to talk, but she couldn't due to her lips being sewn shut. Just then, a blade cut the hair that was sewn around her lips. Her mouth opened wide. Wider than it should have. A scream. THAT scream.... from the forest.. it was coming from her, from me. Her teeth started to fall from her mouth. A knife dropped from it, too. Her mouth opened so wide. I just stood and stared in horror. Something was in her mouth. 
A finger. 
A white finger. 
Then a hand. 
Still with her eyes wide and staring at me, the bottom part of her jaw fell off and an arm, then a head, then the body of a girl came out of her mouth, my mouth. 
She flopped on the floor like a fish out of water for a few seconds, then got enough strength to hold herself up by her arms, but her legs.. they were small, like she had polio. She looked at me, angrily, envious. She had those eyes. Those yellow eyes. And long black hair that hung in front of her face in some parts, matted to the side of her head in some parts. She was unnaturally skinny, her face was sunken in, I could see all of her bones, her ribs, her hip bones, she had enough breasts to know that she was a female, but they were shriveled. It seemed as if all of the liquid had been drained from her. I just stared. I couldn't move. She opened her mouth and the shreik.. that I heard when the lights came on, it escaped her. It was so loud that the house shook. She put one arm in front of the other and moved towards me. Her legs dragged behind her. There was blood but I wasn't sure where it was coming from. Her movement were stiff but quick. I backed away, I still felt like I couldn't move. She opened her mouth again. The same shreik. The house shook. I fell. She stared at me, still angrily, and lifted her nose like a dog as if she could smell my fear and confusion. She moved again towards me. 
Right arm, left arm, right arm, left arm, her lower half turning as she moved. Stiffly.

I managed to stand up and run to the door. It was so heavy. I couldn't open it. My eyes scanned the lobby.. where could I go?

Right arm, left arm, right arm, left arm...

I started running up the stairs. By the time I got to the first landing that led me to the second floor, I turned back and saw the girl-thing trying to climb the stairs. Deep, gutteral noises of frustration were coming from her as she tried her hardest to make it up the first step. She looked up at me with more hate than anyone I have ever seen. Once more, she tried hoisting herself onto the first step. I don't how this happened, maybe it's because she tried too hard... but she...turned to dust. A pile of her dust, ashes, powder, whatever... lay just before the first step. I didn't dare go back down there and even though I should have learned through horror movies that I'd seen... I turned to my right and walked down the long dark hallway.

It was completely silent. Absolutely no noise. I noticed after a few moments of wandering, that I could not even hear my footsteps, my breath, the constant sniffling of my nose. It was as if I had lost my own hearing. I looked at a big grandfather clock on the wall. It was working, but I could not hear the ticking. I looked out the window and saw the crows and bats and ravens flying around, their beaks open as if they were crowing and cawing and eeking... but no noise whatsoever.

Then it came. The shreik. The loud, house shaking shreik. I ran into the next room that I could.

The door slammed shut with the last shreik/house shake. I don't know if I was scared by the sudden shreik or startled from finally being able to hear again. I stood in the middle of the room. It was a bedroom. I saw a mirror and talked to it. My hair was still charcoal. My skin was still pale white. My eyes were still grey.

Shit. What's going on here? I looked down at my feet, my knees, my stomach, my torn and tattered dress. As I felt my dress, I realized that it wasn't mine. I don't wear white. I woke up with it on, torn. I tried to run my fingers through my hair but I couldn't. It was dirty and wet. Wet? It was still wet from being in the misty forest. Shouldn't it have dried by now? At least a little? It was still dripping wet. I grabbed it and squeezed it like a towel, to dry it a little. It looked as if I could have filled an entire soup bowl of water from my hair. I got out almost all of the excess water from it. 
I walked over to a music box on the dresser and opened it. It was a classical music box with a ballerina. She was facing towards the back of the box. On the back left side there was a knob to wind it up. I turned it once to see which song played. The ballerina's position was was with her arms raised above her head, her left leg straight standing on her toes, and her right leg bent with her right foot touching her left thigh. The song started to play. I recognized it.

Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven.

I love that song.

I was admiring the music and trying to brush some of the dirt off my body when I glanced at the ballerina. She was moving in circles, as music box dancers tend to do. When she started turning toward me, that's when I noticed it.

That was the only colour I have seen since I've entered the castle.

Her hair was shoulder length, wavy, and blonde.

Her face had tiny freckles on it.

Her eyes were bright blue.

She looked exactly like my mom.

She was my mom. And she was staring at me with a horrified look on her face, as if she knew what had happened to me, what was happening to me, and could foresee what was going to happen to me. I watched her for few more seconds until she danced around to me again, but this time she was looking past me, to the other side of the room, to the bathroom. The music stopped, and so did she. But she kept staring. Her eyes wide with fear. I looked to the bathroom door. It was open. I didn't take notice if it was open or not when I ran into the bedroom. I heard water dripping lightly, so I went to turn it off. I entered the bathroom and was amazed not only at how elaborate it was, but also how clean it was. It was almost like someone had focused their cleaning only on that part of the house. There was a claw foot bathtub with a paisley design on it on the far left side of the room and a sink with a mirror that was broken perfectly in half, horizontally. The toilet was sitting against the same wall that the bathroom door was on, between the sink and the bathtub.

I went to the sink, washed my face, and drank some water from my hand. I looked at myself in the mirror and noticed thatmy hair was dripping wet again. I thought it as weird, but I didn't py much attention to it. I went over to the toilet, which had privacy walls on either side of it and sat down, leaning against the left most wall. I sat and thought about how I had gotten to the field. What that thing was in the sitting room. Why I saw myself. At this point, I was exhausted and needed to just....close....my eyes.... a little....

I don't know what time it was when I finally reopened my eyes, but I felt much better. I don't know what time it was when I closed them, nor did I know much of anything at that moment. I started thinking about Moonlight Sonata. About the ballerina. About my mom. Then all of the sudden, I realized that the music box was playing, not just in my mind, and I remember the ballerina's face and then remember why I was in the bathroom. I was still leaning against the left most privacy wall and sat in silence for a moment until I heard a noise. It sounded like gagging. I leaned a little to my left and looked at the mirror. On the top part of the broken mirror I saw the reflection of something black.

It was hair.

Something... someone.. was on the ceiling. I looked back quickly in fear and saw a girl hanging from the ceiling. I don't know what she was hanging from, but her neck was bent forward and her limbs were just dangling there. I stood up and looked her long enough to hear her say, ''black and white, never wrong, never right.''

I ran back into the bedroom and screamed when I saw the bed. It was a canopy-less bed with four canopy posts. There were probably ten ropes tied to each post and held together in the middle by a girl. She had charcoal hair, like mine. 

But she was without a face.

...To Be Continued...

How I Met Your Father: Part II

At 4:30 am on April 1, 2012, we landed in Santiago, Chile. 
Hold on!
Not just yet!
We had to wait about 45 minutes for our luggage, which was last to come out, go through Customs, get our visas, and then have Veda's paperwork checked out.
Okay.
Now!
We walked through the doors and we just ran to each other! We kissed. His parents were there welcoming my parents and I. My mom was crying, I think, haha. 
And get this!
When Felipe went to give Veda a kiss in her little travel bag... she bit his nose!!!
Luckily she's an old Chihuahua with barely any teeth.

My parents stayed for a week in a nice hotel and we met up with them everyday (of course) to do random touristy things which were pretty fun.

 

The first picture we took together.

I could not have been more happy to be with him. It was so surreal being able to not just fel his energy, but feel his body.(Don't take that in an XXX way, please! I'm talking hugs and kisses!) We couldn't get enough of each other. I just wanted to hold him forever. We waited 7 months, although it seemed like for fuh-reaking ever for that. To finally be together.
Everyone was cheering us on. We had a lot of mutual friends on Facebook who we met through our love of Incubus, and almost all of them were with us from the beginning and that really gave us a lot of hope and encouragement. We had a few people saying that we were stupid for thinking it would actually work out, but I never paid attention to them. Neither did he. Our personalities just meshed. We went together like PB & J! 

After the first week of me being in Santiago, Felipe had to resume his classes. I didn't know what to do while he was there, really, and soon I realized that I probably won't adapt too well. Which... I haven't. Everything about this culture was different than what I knew.

 EVERYTHING. Sometimes I'd get really homesick and 

Felipe was soooo good at comforting me.  

We just had a blast together. We both love movies, so sometimes I'd meet him at the metro and we'd go to the movies. We'd just sorta hang out at the house since we didn't have much money to do anything else. It was just bliss to be around each other and not do anything in particular. We just had fun. We'd watch TV or go for walks or do whatever.

About a month after I got to Chile, his family had the idea to take a weekend trip to their beach house in Los Molles, which was about 2 1/2 hours away. It was such a beautiful place! So peaceful and quiet and... cold? I had no idea it would be cold and I was so excited to swim! We went down to the beach and got in the water fo 2 seconds. FUH-REEZING! I have no idea what we were thinking, but it was really fun!

Yes, yes... very cheesy! But fun!

Los Molles... the Pacific coast of Chile.

He gets home makeovers with me :-)

We were just living in bliss! Everyone we knew was happy for us. My parents LOVED him which really meant a lot to me because I've dated a lot of losers who they hated. It was nice for them to like someone a lot. And it was really refreshing to be with someone who was my age, who was smart, funny, very humble, a bit antisocial like me, and a little strange. He was just the bees knees to me. And still is!! Of course we'd have our arguments, usually caused by misunderstanding because the culture is very very different in Chile, so when someone would say something to me that I didn't understand the context of or someone would refer to me as a ''gringa'', I'd turn my head quickly like, ''what the hell???'' But otherwise, we had an amazing relationship. We had a lot of fun together.

The little blue ring!

In June, despite the fact that neither of us had a job, we still lived with his family (in a house with 5 other people), and we had no idea what lie ahead of us...
Felipe asked me to marry him.
Well... it was sort of a mutual thing, but to make it romantic, he got me a cheap ring at a flea market that I will never ever EVER trade in for a more elaborate, expensive one, even if we're millionaires, and a week later he asked me when we went for a weekend trip to the Andes mountains. It was a beautiful scene. As we walked back from a little bodega, he got on one knee and asked me. The sun was on its way to hiding behind the mountains. It was just very lovely.
During our wedding planning, I got a bit nutty. I didn't become a bridezilla or anything, BUT it was a bit frustrating at times because I didn't know much Spanish and I don't think that his family understood how much I am into symbolism. For example, I wanted certain flowers because in my religion, they meant such and such. Or I wanted to get married on a certain date because signified this. Everyone apparently thought it was weird that I wasn't wearing a white dress. I don't like white. I found a gorgeous green dress that reminded me of fairies. I got those barefoot sandal things. I am an all natural type of girl, nothing fancy or extravagant. We're down to Earth people, I wanted a down to Earth wedding. We intially planned to have the wedding at his family's house because we didn't have like... any money. At all. His mom was pushing for us to find an event area to have it, so we searched for about a month and when we were about to give up completely, we found the perfect place!
We had planned only for his family (which is pretty big) and very few of our friends to attend. I didn't think my family could come and we were very upset about that. But the show must go on, right?
A few days after we put a deposit on the place, we were video chatting with my parents and my mom said she had a surprise for us. My brain was fried from planning this thing, I had no idea what it could beand I didn't have the energy to guess.
They were coming to the wedding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yay!!!!!!
My dad said that it wasn't right for a father not to walk his daughter down the isle at her wedding. We were so happy! I think I even cried!
We became really busy once we were a month away from the wedding. Everyday we were doing something related to it. It seemed like there was so much crap to do and there was only 40 people coming!

My parents got to Santiago on a Thursday. We hung out with them all day Thursday and Friday. I remember on Friday we were supposed to meet my parents at their hotel for a couples massage at 12 or 12:30 or something. We got to their hotel around 11 or so and the wedding coordinator called Felipe and asked how many hours for the DJ would we want since we only paid for a certain amount. He said that we'd probably need about 2-3 more hours since everyone would stay there after we left. She said we had to pay for that right then and there. How they do it in Chile is you have to go to the bank (of the person you're dealing with) and deposit the money into their account. They don't do credit cards or anything. So we went to my parents' hotel room, the safe wouldn't work and my dad started kinda of yelling at it which made Felipe nervous, hahaha. We got the extra money, walked about 5 minutes to the nearest bank. Of course they didn't take American money. We walked to a mall, navigated our way to the money exchange place, then back to the bank. By this time it was like 8 minutes until our massage and for some reason I had it in my head that if e weren't there ON TIME, they'd say we couldn't get the massages, which is something that I NEEDED. I was so stressed out from well, many things.
So we are like running back to the hotel, we bust in the front doors, I saw my mom standing in the lobby and I started to cry. I don't really remember why, but I just felt like I needed  massage. (Being a massage therapist, I know the benefits of it!)
We finally got to the spa area, which was really neat! We got into our bathrobes and sat in these comfy chairs while we got our feet bathed with hot water. Then our massages were really great! After the massage, they sat us in this relaxing area, kind of like a waiting room but a luxury waiting room with reclining bamboo chairs, and then they brought us hot tea and a big plate or gourmet chocolates.... which of course, we ate all of!
We hung out with my parents until it was getting a bit late and since the wedding was the next day, we wanted to get plenty of sleep. There was some kind of road construction and we ended up spending 2 hours in the taxi! Which was fine, we got a lot of talking done and we were so excited about the wedding. I was very sad that my brother couldn't come, but he had to work and I understood that. He was there in spirit!

Saturday, September 8, 2012...
I became the wife of my best friend, my soulmate.

That day was the best day of my life. It was so so so SOOO much fun! The day was filled with so much love and happiness! I was a bit sad that the rest of my family couldn't be there, my aunts and uncles, brother, grandparents, cousins, but I knew I'd see them soon!
Everyone was having fun, dancing, taking pictures, eating DELICIOUS food, drinking, talking, joking, hugging. It was just... an amazing day. Very awesome.

 

My mom and I are really close, I was happy that she could make it!

My dad walking me down the isle!

Our best friends cake.

Disclaimer: Please excuse the random placement of the pictures, I still haven't really gotten the hang of this yet :-)

We were so happy with our wedding day. For our honeymoon, it was more of a wedding night. My parents paid for a room in the hotel where they were staying. We ordered tons of room service since we didn't stuff our faces at the wedding. We had a lot of fun (if ya know what I mean, wink wink)! The next day we went to the pool at the hotel, which was freezing but it was fun to hang out by. We spent the day with my parents at a mall. It was really great and comforting to just hang out with them. I really missed them a lot. The day after that they left and it was also my mom's birthday. I didn't see her that day to give her a hug, tell her happy birthday, and that I love her since they left at like 3am or some crazy time.


Since the wedding, we've had a wonderful first year of marriage. We are so happy together! In maybe..... late November or early December we decided that we wanted to move to the US for a better life. In January we started the process of the CR-1 visa. Since then, it's been a pain in the ass. But we are grateful that my parents are helping a lot. Without them, we wouldn't be able to do this. So Felipe got a job in the summer (March-ish) and worked until mid-July until the doctor told him he had to stop because the work was messing up his shoulder. And we've just been waiting to hear any news from the National Visa Center, since we are very close to the end of the visa process. We're hoping to be in the US to start that life by October of this year. Keep your fingers crossed for us, please!!!! 

We aren't thinking of kids anytime soon..maybe when we're 30 and our shit together, haha. But we do have names picked out! We are hoping for a girl first, who we will name Isadore Arabella. If we have a second girl, her name will be Esmeralda Valhalla. Our first boy will be Emile Franco, and if we have another boy, he will be named Heath Brandon. We're excited for kids, for our own little family, but we want our own house, Felipe wants to finish his education and get a job as a teacher, I want to have my own business established. And we want our small farm! We want kids, but we also want to be responsible!

A lot of people who know us have been inspired by our story. We want it to get out because we want everyone to know that love is real! Think about it: A chick from Pennsylvania. A guy from Santiago. A simple hello on Facebook chat sparks a true love. I would not move to another country,  not knowing the language, changing MY lifestyle, dragging my old Chihuahua, leaving my two jobs... for just anyone. He is THE one. And I love him with all my heart and soul. We have our differences but that is what makes us so strong.
I finally found my missing puzzle piece.
I finally found my weirdo.
I finally found my other half.
He completes me.
I complete him.
This is our story.

New Year's 2013!

A day at the park!

Stone Sour concert!

3 days after my 26th birthday.