Author's Note: Okay, I think we're caught up now. This story, like all the other ones, is the fruit of misery. But I'm just glad it's in the past…and it has definitely taught me a lesson. I hope you guys find a bit of joy amid my sorrow, if that's possible.

. . .

Estel knows exactly what poison ivy looks like, both the leaf and the rash. She has endured its effects of agony several times, all instances in which she had heedlessly wandered through the green forests of a Texas summer. Now she was in a park that was grey and bare, feeling the cool of December descend on its trees and shrubs.

Thalion was careful to look for poison ivy, but she didn't see a single leaf. Oh, how foolish she was, to think that just because there weren't any visible plants, orcs had not already rigged the place for a terrible disaster. Had she been there about two or three hours earlier, she would have seen a strange sight.

. . .

"How many of these trees do we need to spray?" grumbled Snaga 3, who had nearly run out of the contents of his can of compressed madness, otherwise known as poison ivy oil.

"Just keep going, you maggot," snapped Snaga 1. "There's no knowing where that writer will venture."

"Who would walk by the woods for no reason?" Snaga 2 asked. "This is a stupid idea."

"Exactly," Snaga 1 retorted. "A stupid idea for a stupid target. That writer does pointless things all day long; why should she suddenly wise up today?"

Snaga 2 seemed to see the logic here, never one to doubt the patheticness of the human they had been plaguing for months. The orcs continued to douse the entire park in the deadly oil, glad for once that their thick and nasty skin was immune to its effects.

Poison ivy has a similar origins story to that of cockroaches. Morgoth, while on his marring-creation spree, took the blood of a balrog that had been exposed to severe radiation and fused it with a plant. The effects of this plant could be elaborated upon here, but soon they will be manifest in Estel anyway. Besides, Thalion has no desire to make her readers lose their lunch over a silly story.

So it was that the park was practically dripping with poison ivy oil, and the orcs scurried away just before the writer and her family arrived. As they had predicted, the less-than-wise college student plunged happily into the tiny adventure that was a few trees beside a creek. She saw no poison ivy leaves, and she had never gotten the accursed rash in the winter time. As often happens, that sense of security turned out to be a groundless façade.

It wasn't until she was sitting in a movie theater the next day, watching Star Wars, that Thalion felt a little itch on her right arm. She absentmindedly scratched it (and readers, this is where you must realize that such behavior is absolutely forbidden to anyone who has been in the woods lately) and then thought nothing more of it. For a few more minutes.

The rest of the day was filled with occasional scratching, and in denial, the writer told herself that she must have run into a pack of mosquitos or something. After all, there were only a few bumps, and they were in one place. It simply could not be poison ivy, right?

Wrong. By Christmas day, as her sisters happily tore into their presents, Estel was focused solely on desperately trying not to scratch the rash that had spread all over her arm, in between her fingers on both hands, her neck, and face. In case you have never borne the agony that is poison ivy, it is the utmost form of physical torture ever concocted. You want to tear off your own flesh, but if you so much as touch it, you may just make your own lot worse.

The day after Christmas, when Estel went to spend the holiday with her cousins, she discovered something she had no previously known: you can get poison ivy on your lips. The poor writer really did look awful, her red and bulging skin making her face look deformed. Her very kind aunt tried to give her a hug, but Thalion sadly had to draw back to avoid physical contact.

"It's for your own safety," the writer explained, pointing to her face. "I have poison ivy."

"Oh," her aunt said, frowning. "I thought you just didn't want to hug me."

And so you see, readers, that not only does poison ivy make you so miserable that death actually appears like a vacation for your soul, but it also tries to undo familial ties. Of course Estel's family is stronger than most, so this little miscommunication was not the ending of happiness. Rather, Thalion tried her best to ignore the flames of pain and itchiness that flashed throughout her body as she held as many pleasant conversations as possible.

But no matter how much she pretended that the deadly oil was not depriving her of all comforts, she could not shove it from her consciousness. The insanity that was filling her mind was like an overflowing river pushing against a dam, and it was threatening to burst over at any second. Perhaps it would have done so and ruined the already fragile mind of the writer, but she survived through a few elements of grace in the form of absolutely delicious brisket, iced sugar cookies, and football. Yes, she had to eat extremely carefully (have you ever eaten without letting food or your tongue even touch your lips?), but the happiness of a content stomach and a preoccupation of watching sports kept her from going crazy.

In fact, she coined a perfect philosophical statement from the ordeal: poison ivy cannot ruin your Christmas, but at the same time, Christmas cannot un-ruin your poison ivy.

Two or three weeks after she had first gotten the rash, only ugly, red scars remained. Indeed, she had been blessed that the ordeal had not lasted longer or spread to her legs and stomach. However, she cursed Morgoth and poison ivy alike for the marring of her break, and she just hoped that nothing else would happen to her. After all, she needed the spring semester to go well.

But all things considered, that didn't seem likely to happen.

. . .

Well, even though we're up to the present, I have an idea in the works that I hope to develop. But my spring break is looking more and more like a write-one-of-your-many-papers week instead, and I'm in the midst of midterms currently. So we'll see. In the meantime, be sure to leave me a review! Have any of you guys ever been cursed with the evil that is poison ivy?