Some of you may wonder what prompted me to write Dark Fates-Madness. The four short stories in this book can be hard to handle, especially if you are a parent. I have a teenage son and these stories were tough to write but at the same time, some of the stories I heard from him and the newspapers were tough to handle too.
I do my best to stay away from the news because, for me, news stories are like taking an oppressive depressant pill. But when my son started middle school I got hit with teen news and it took me back to my high school days.
Every year since my son went into seventh grade there has been one to two suicides and, so far, only one bomb threat. That doesn’t sound like much but for my small town, it is and it’s heartbreaking. Ever wonder what’s going through these teenagers minds? I do. What makes them so depressed they feel the need to kill themselves?
I couldn’t get away from these thoughts so I decided writing a few short stories might alleviate the heartbreaking energy surrounding me.
One Way Ticket I wrote to break up the stories.
In One Way Ticket Tyra goes mad. If you have ever had a psychic in your life as a friend then you may have gotten the scoop on how chaotic other’s energy can be. Sometimes other people’s energy is hard to block, sometimes the energy hit’s you so hard it’s hard to rebound it. If you know a psychic ask them what type of problems they’ve encountered. I know a couple psychics. The ladies I know have to amp up their protective shield around their energy every day so they don’t pick up unwanted thoughts, emotions, or spirits. While some psychics are lucky enough to be taught about their abilities others are not.
Tyra had to teach herself how to control her abilities. Tyra lost the war.
Normally Tyra had fun with this ruse, but tonight she couldn’t get into the swing of things. She let Liam take the lead and tried desperately to stay planted in the here and now. Tyra relaxed into Liam’s arms; a deep sense of well-being settled over her. She lightly stroked Liam’s waistline with her fingertips. Liam’s muscles took on a more defined shape under her hands. His lips dropped closer to hers with every step they took. She snuggled into him. Amazingly content she thought about hooking up with Liam, thinking in some sad way she was missing out. She glanced up, ready for a kiss. The face that gazed back at her didn’t belong to Liam. It belonged to him. Tyra’s heart dropped into her stomach, all movement stopped. She wrenched herself free of the arms holding her so intimately and stormed out the front door.
Teen Spirit brings back the good old days of teenage years. Not! A good friend of mine committed suicide in middle school. Her suicide stemmed from her parents divorce and the fact that her parents used her against each other. She was one of the sweetest girls I’d met, took me under her wing, and I missed her terribly for a long time.
Now Jade wasn’t so nice, but she was popular. (I knew a few of these girls too. Popularity can go to your head.) Jade had a tendency to manipulate and push people around. Who better to manipulate than some of the less popular kids? Jade creates a pact group and a pact. Life after the pact doesn’t bode well for Jade.
Teen Spirit is a story about teenage hormones, family structure, clicks, and how difficult it is for some teens to find their true selves and grow.
Jade studied the hordes of weeping people that herded into the gymnasium. They were all crying because of her. Her lips curled into a sneer as she glanced around for her small group of friends. She couldn’t believe they weren’t here yet. Bored she floated down a couple of bleachers to eavesdrop on a group of her parents friends.
Calla Crossing brings to mind a story that circulated in my town after my own graduation. Sad, but true, some guys should not be on the force. They take their power to a whole new level.
Calla is a happy teenager who has a bright future, good friends, and a loving family. But Calla hooks up with the wrong man and can’t escape. She does the best she can with what she has. She accomplishes her main goal but fails at the end.
This story is edgy and has most of my readers booth rooting for Calla and cringing at the outcome at the same time.
She sat on the pipeline, feet dangling in the air, hands clinging to the metal cable. Calla waited patiently for Broden to show up. Steadying herself to roll with the bridge in the slight breeze she gazed over the amazing view of the canyon before glancing down. Almost one-hundred feet below the river flowed between the canyon walls. How did she get here? Some days she had a hard time remembering. Some days her memory was crystal clear. Every day, her soul screamed for vengeance.
Today she sat searching her memories, wondering again how she got here.
Can you imagine how a teenager might feel to lead him to bomb his own school? To shoot his schoolmates? Or stab a stranger? What would lead him down this path? Anger? Depression? Narcissism? A promise? Do these emotions begin in the womb? The way the child was raised? Or do they come to a head when teenage hormones rage rapidly?
Zack is in a rut. The promise that he made and his brothers ghost continue to haunt him and if he accomplishes what he promised he won’t live to see next year. He doesn’t want to keep the promise but he’s not sure he has a choice.
Zack used to have a good life, a lot of friends, and a family that cared deeply. His family still cares, but he lost most of his friends, and the community continues to whisper behind his back.
Zack knows the medication the doctor has him on doesn’t help matters. Yes, his anxieties aren’t as bad as they were but he isn’t motivated to do much with his life either.
Will Zack choose the right path? Or will he end up six feet underground like his brother?
Zack shook his head to chase the memory away. He’d always had this drive to prove himself to his big brother. He didn’t know why.
The sun sat on the horizon, Zack needed to get home. He sighed and trudged at a snails pace along the trail. He never seemed to remember anything good about Isaac. Only bad memories. He’d taken what Isaac said to heart and never tried out for the track team. Maybe he’d try out at the beginning of his junior year. Coach always called him speedy and asked him to join every year, so far. He’d have to get off the anti-depressants, the Xanax, and begin training again. If he could just come up with the willpower, and the energy to do it.
He sighed heavily, remembering his promise to Isaac. The depression pushed down hard on his shoulders. If everything went as planned he wouldn’t be alive long enough to become a Junior.