Note: The topic that is discussed in this chapter is in no way meant to
disparage other people with a stronger and or different faith. It was not
meant to offend anyone, so please do not take offense.
Shadow- No, it's okay to be pissed at Carly, she's earned it. I believe that Damian's problem is something that almost anyone can relate to, which is why it's so poignant. You need not worry about 'long reviews', the more feedback the get the better. If you feel the need to, please write as much as you would like.
Sarah- Journey forever! Death to Brian (no, really, please, kill him) and all that jazz. Thanks for the review.
Shamira- I always thought it was spelt Kwanzaa, but I could be wrong. Kyle's death was pretty much planned a long time ago, had to get rid of him and since I loathe him so much death was the best way. Don't feel bad about not feeling anything but glee for his death, if I knew someone like Kyle in real life, actually, I did, and that person died, I certainly wouldn't feel bad for that jackass. For the record, Damian isn't a teenager. Sorry, pet peeve. I just had bad teenage years so I try and keep them away from my characters when at all possible. Damian might stay away from Alky, perhaps not.
Actually, my cousin has an uncle who is I think two years younger than her. Sometimes, provided the kiddies are naughty, these things can happen. For some people death is hard to cope with, I always thought Maxie was one of them, she seemed quite sensitive, not that there is anything wrong with being sensitive. Bobbie's like a den mother, helping out wherever she can, and you're right, she would have problems with things that Carly does, but as long as she's happy Bobbie likely wouldn't complain. Courtney's my favorite girl character, too. But for different reasons (soooooo pretty she be), still my love for Courtney is great as a character and a sexkitten. I wanted Damian to have a friend in that kooky family he's found himself in, and Courtney seemed the most logical, especially once she saw how vulnerable he could be. She always struck me as the type that would help someone that she hated if she felt that they needed it.
I write ahead because I have no life, and I'm quite proud of that fact. Still, writing at my parent's is harder than writing at school because there's always people here! I like shopping, I just didn't like shopping on that particular day. I think that would be incest, so let's not bother with it. Nasty, icky. Plus, Jason would likely kill him. I don't know if it's weird, my cousins and I have that relationship with our aunt. We trust her a lot more than we trust our parents. And we're not nearly the same age. I don't have any plans of killing off Mac, the writers of the show seem to do that enough by never having him on the damned television! If you want to, then by all means please do it. Dillon acting like Dillon was intended. At times I think he does need to cut that hair, but only when it's sticking up like a damned flattop.
Poor Elizabeth, blinded by the love. But most people tend to have that happen at least once. Ric's just a fun person to have the other characters hate. I found myself realizing that I had put everyone aside from Mike into the story, so I had to change that. Courtney making the call made sense, since she still has a much closer relationship to Mike than Sonny does. You're right, father's will be father's. My dad would never say anything like that, I don't think. Again I must point out that I love writing Faith. She be evil, so very evil. I'm glad that you could feel my dialog in your head, it's very flattering. Zander's soul is not all corrupted, which is indeed a good thing.
Story-
Queen of Angels Church, Port Charles-
It was Friday. His schedule permitted him the chance to not have to worry about school for the time being. There were many things that were pressing on his mind, causing him to slowly wallow in his own self pity. He had pushed Maxie away from him when she was trying to comfort him in his time of need. He appreciated the gesture, but it just did not feel right. It was more than likely a kiss of sympathy, what she felt that he needed at that time. He always wondered what his first kiss would feel like. He should have known that it would have been something that he wouldn't recall with fondness. His life was like that. It was sad, in all his years he had never had a girlfriend, never been in love. He longed for a meaningful relationship, but it was difficult back home, always being the outcast even before his mother died. After that he became even more introverted than before, and would rarely spend any time with anyone, even those that he cared for. Any chances that he had at beginning a relationship were dashed by his own actions. Yet he wouldn't change them, not even if he was given the chance. Coping with her passing was a cornerstone of his evolution from innocent child into a young man who knew that bad things happened, even when they wasn't very much reason. He wasn't repulsed at the kiss. How could he be? Maxie was a kind and beautiful woman who he had already begun developing a fondness towards. It was the context that displeased him. He wanted to let her know that, but he was a bit busy at that very moment.
The doors opened into the church, the house of a failed God. There was no one inside, and for that he was thankful. This was a private conversation. He walked to the statue of Jesus on the cross. It showed the sacrifice that was made by someone so that all of humanity could benefit. "You know, it's funny. I spent years coming here, listening to everything that you said I should do and trying to follow it all to the letter. I was supposed to be rewarded for not being a sinner. Remember that? I believed all those empty promises that were written in some language by people whose names I can't even recall. Guess they weren't all that important, were they? They were just lambs to do your bidding. Following what they thought was your word blindly, seeking something that they desired and getting nothing back. Just like my mother. What happened to salvation? I certainly don't see it. All I see is a lot of people going through pain and hoping that somehow you'll fix everything. Do they get what they want? No, they don't. So that leaves us with a couple questions, doesn't it? Why am I here even attempting to speak with something that I don't believe in anymore? Why do I always come to a church when I need some time alone, someplace that will comfort me? Maybe its one last ditch effort by the remaining part of my soul that still wants to follow something blindly. Or I could just be looking for a place to vent. The cynic that I've become because of what happened is much more privy to believing that. Still, I'm a generous person, so I'm giving this one last chance. I think this is the part where I ask for a sign. So, you know, work your divine magic or whatever." There was nothing. Not even a slight shift in the wind. Damian sneered, "Thanks for letting me down one last time. Remind me to have an outdoor wedding if I should ever find someone, would you?" He turned his head and saw a piano in the corner. It was nicely polished so that it shined in the sunlight that rained down past the tainted glass window. Damian stood there, looking at it. He took a step towards it, followed by another. He was standing over the keys, his hands placed uncomfortably on them. He pressed down his index finger and the tune of the piano rang through the church. He sat down and adjusted his fingers to the all too familiar but still slightly foreign positions that they were supposed to be in. "I'm still not a believer, you know. This could all just be some coincidence, churches have pianos, after all." He started to play something, one of the first songs that he had ever learned when he was beginning to understand how the device worked. His recollection of the tune was flawless, each keystroke without error. But he stopped all of a sudden, "Fine, you've given me a reason to doubt myself and give you credit. In this possible moment of sheer ignorance on my part-" He smiled, "You always wanted me to play this song on your birthday, mom. It might not be that day, but I'd figure if there was any time that you ever wanted to pay attention to me it would be my own birthday. This is for you." He began to play 'We Belong Together'. Ana-Maria had a fondness for older songs. Perhaps she was listening. Was it too much to ask? Maybe it was.
Shadow- No, it's okay to be pissed at Carly, she's earned it. I believe that Damian's problem is something that almost anyone can relate to, which is why it's so poignant. You need not worry about 'long reviews', the more feedback the get the better. If you feel the need to, please write as much as you would like.
Sarah- Journey forever! Death to Brian (no, really, please, kill him) and all that jazz. Thanks for the review.
Shamira- I always thought it was spelt Kwanzaa, but I could be wrong. Kyle's death was pretty much planned a long time ago, had to get rid of him and since I loathe him so much death was the best way. Don't feel bad about not feeling anything but glee for his death, if I knew someone like Kyle in real life, actually, I did, and that person died, I certainly wouldn't feel bad for that jackass. For the record, Damian isn't a teenager. Sorry, pet peeve. I just had bad teenage years so I try and keep them away from my characters when at all possible. Damian might stay away from Alky, perhaps not.
Actually, my cousin has an uncle who is I think two years younger than her. Sometimes, provided the kiddies are naughty, these things can happen. For some people death is hard to cope with, I always thought Maxie was one of them, she seemed quite sensitive, not that there is anything wrong with being sensitive. Bobbie's like a den mother, helping out wherever she can, and you're right, she would have problems with things that Carly does, but as long as she's happy Bobbie likely wouldn't complain. Courtney's my favorite girl character, too. But for different reasons (soooooo pretty she be), still my love for Courtney is great as a character and a sexkitten. I wanted Damian to have a friend in that kooky family he's found himself in, and Courtney seemed the most logical, especially once she saw how vulnerable he could be. She always struck me as the type that would help someone that she hated if she felt that they needed it.
I write ahead because I have no life, and I'm quite proud of that fact. Still, writing at my parent's is harder than writing at school because there's always people here! I like shopping, I just didn't like shopping on that particular day. I think that would be incest, so let's not bother with it. Nasty, icky. Plus, Jason would likely kill him. I don't know if it's weird, my cousins and I have that relationship with our aunt. We trust her a lot more than we trust our parents. And we're not nearly the same age. I don't have any plans of killing off Mac, the writers of the show seem to do that enough by never having him on the damned television! If you want to, then by all means please do it. Dillon acting like Dillon was intended. At times I think he does need to cut that hair, but only when it's sticking up like a damned flattop.
Poor Elizabeth, blinded by the love. But most people tend to have that happen at least once. Ric's just a fun person to have the other characters hate. I found myself realizing that I had put everyone aside from Mike into the story, so I had to change that. Courtney making the call made sense, since she still has a much closer relationship to Mike than Sonny does. You're right, father's will be father's. My dad would never say anything like that, I don't think. Again I must point out that I love writing Faith. She be evil, so very evil. I'm glad that you could feel my dialog in your head, it's very flattering. Zander's soul is not all corrupted, which is indeed a good thing.
Story-
Queen of Angels Church, Port Charles-
It was Friday. His schedule permitted him the chance to not have to worry about school for the time being. There were many things that were pressing on his mind, causing him to slowly wallow in his own self pity. He had pushed Maxie away from him when she was trying to comfort him in his time of need. He appreciated the gesture, but it just did not feel right. It was more than likely a kiss of sympathy, what she felt that he needed at that time. He always wondered what his first kiss would feel like. He should have known that it would have been something that he wouldn't recall with fondness. His life was like that. It was sad, in all his years he had never had a girlfriend, never been in love. He longed for a meaningful relationship, but it was difficult back home, always being the outcast even before his mother died. After that he became even more introverted than before, and would rarely spend any time with anyone, even those that he cared for. Any chances that he had at beginning a relationship were dashed by his own actions. Yet he wouldn't change them, not even if he was given the chance. Coping with her passing was a cornerstone of his evolution from innocent child into a young man who knew that bad things happened, even when they wasn't very much reason. He wasn't repulsed at the kiss. How could he be? Maxie was a kind and beautiful woman who he had already begun developing a fondness towards. It was the context that displeased him. He wanted to let her know that, but he was a bit busy at that very moment.
The doors opened into the church, the house of a failed God. There was no one inside, and for that he was thankful. This was a private conversation. He walked to the statue of Jesus on the cross. It showed the sacrifice that was made by someone so that all of humanity could benefit. "You know, it's funny. I spent years coming here, listening to everything that you said I should do and trying to follow it all to the letter. I was supposed to be rewarded for not being a sinner. Remember that? I believed all those empty promises that were written in some language by people whose names I can't even recall. Guess they weren't all that important, were they? They were just lambs to do your bidding. Following what they thought was your word blindly, seeking something that they desired and getting nothing back. Just like my mother. What happened to salvation? I certainly don't see it. All I see is a lot of people going through pain and hoping that somehow you'll fix everything. Do they get what they want? No, they don't. So that leaves us with a couple questions, doesn't it? Why am I here even attempting to speak with something that I don't believe in anymore? Why do I always come to a church when I need some time alone, someplace that will comfort me? Maybe its one last ditch effort by the remaining part of my soul that still wants to follow something blindly. Or I could just be looking for a place to vent. The cynic that I've become because of what happened is much more privy to believing that. Still, I'm a generous person, so I'm giving this one last chance. I think this is the part where I ask for a sign. So, you know, work your divine magic or whatever." There was nothing. Not even a slight shift in the wind. Damian sneered, "Thanks for letting me down one last time. Remind me to have an outdoor wedding if I should ever find someone, would you?" He turned his head and saw a piano in the corner. It was nicely polished so that it shined in the sunlight that rained down past the tainted glass window. Damian stood there, looking at it. He took a step towards it, followed by another. He was standing over the keys, his hands placed uncomfortably on them. He pressed down his index finger and the tune of the piano rang through the church. He sat down and adjusted his fingers to the all too familiar but still slightly foreign positions that they were supposed to be in. "I'm still not a believer, you know. This could all just be some coincidence, churches have pianos, after all." He started to play something, one of the first songs that he had ever learned when he was beginning to understand how the device worked. His recollection of the tune was flawless, each keystroke without error. But he stopped all of a sudden, "Fine, you've given me a reason to doubt myself and give you credit. In this possible moment of sheer ignorance on my part-" He smiled, "You always wanted me to play this song on your birthday, mom. It might not be that day, but I'd figure if there was any time that you ever wanted to pay attention to me it would be my own birthday. This is for you." He began to play 'We Belong Together'. Ana-Maria had a fondness for older songs. Perhaps she was listening. Was it too much to ask? Maybe it was.