Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Thoughts on Trans Day of Remembrance, 2018

As we prepare to kick off the joyous part of the holiday season, today is a somber and serious day for reflection and mourning. Since 1999, November 20th has been observed as the Transgender Day of Remembrance in which we take the time to remember those lost to anti-trans violence. We need to take the time to remember because this is a population who, as a society, we have failed. We continue to fail them.

The first time I posted this, in 2014, I told the story of one of my juggler friends commenting that we're lucky to have one of our trans friends in our lives, because too many are lost to suicide or to murder. While the official TDOR count doesn't include those who've taken their own lives, I feel that their blood is on our hands for all the harms we as a society inflict.

Too many of us refuse to use the correct pronouns.
We fight to keep them out of public restrooms.
The United States justice department has argued to the Supreme Court that employment discrimination against trans people should be legal.

Yes, there are bright spots. Legal protections were confirmed in a Massachusetts referendum this past election day - the first time trans rights were defended at the ballot box. More people are learning, more are trying to learn.

It isn't enough. Not yet.


What can we do, my cisgender brothers and sisters? At the very least we need to not be part of the problem. Learn to use the correct pronouns. Learn which language is and isn't harmful. When you hear someone say something transphobic, correct them. 

Remember those we've lost. Mourn the dead, fight for the living.

Following is the list of names. All killed this year for who they were, throughout the world.

We need to do better. 



Argentina

Carolina/Camila Angulo Paredes
Buenos Aires, Argentina
29-Dec-17
shot

Lourdes Reinoso
Tucuman, Argentina
14-Jan-18
stabbed

Ynina
Puerto Madryn, Argentina
30-Jan-18
Unknown

Adriana Estefanía Bonetto
San Jose del Rincon, Argentina
8-Feb-18
stabbed

Cinthia Moreira
Villa Alen, Argentina
22-Feb-18
decapitated/dismembered

Sol Gómez
Santa Fe, Argentina
7-Mar-18
Unknown

Julia Ponce
Buenos Aires, Argentina
23-Jul-18
Unknown

Yanelis Rodríguez
Argentina, Argentina
31-Aug-18
Unknown

Bangladesh

Sonia Akter
Morrelganj, Bangladesh
31-Dec-17
Unknown

Brazil

L. de Souza Pereira
Manaus, Brazil
23-Nov-17
beaten

Unknown Name
Uberlândia, Brazil
28-Nov-17
shot

Milena
Arapiraca, Brazil
1-Dec-17
stoned

Andressa Xoda
Pauladas E Tiros – Salvador, Brazil
3-Dec-17
shot

Eduarda Figueiredo
Porto Seguro, Brazil
3-Dec-17
shot

Júlia Volp
Florianópolis, Brazil
4-Dec-17
tortured

Jéssica Dimy
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
7-Dec-17
Unknown

Sabrina
Uberaba, Brazil
7-Dec-17
Unknown

Luany Aquamarine
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
9-Dec-17
beaten

Luna Shine
Viana, Brazil
11-Dec-17
stabbed

Marquete F. C. de Lima
Altinho, Brazil
13-Dec-17
shot

Kebeca G. de Souza
Gurupi, Brazil
16-Dec-17
shot

Larissa Paiva
Sao Paulo, Brazil
17-Dec-17
beaten

Rose
João Pessoa, Brazil
17-Dec-17
beaten

Lorrany “Lhoane” Oliveira
Santaluz, Brazil
26-Dec-17
tortured

V. O. Silva
Uberaba, Brazil
30-Dec-17
tortured

Silvia Gomes Marques
Belem, Brazil
1-Jan-18
Unknown

Fany Diniz
Belem, Brazil
3-Jan-18
shot

C. Sobral
Feira de Santana, Brazil
5-Jan-18
Unknown

Unknown Name
Brasília, Brazil
5-Jan-18
stabbed

W. Peixoto
Piripiri, Brazil
9-Jan-18
beaten

C. Figueiredo
Recife, Brazil
17-Jan-18
stabbed

Carol Alves
Tangará da Serra, Brazil
17-Jan-18
shot

Kelly
Belém, Brazil
20-Jan-18
shot

Unknown Name
Concórdia do Pará, Brazil
20-Jan-18
Unknown

Júlia de Arruda
Várzea Grande, Brazil
21-Jan-18
other

Lohane
Governador Newton Bello, Brazil
23-Jan-18
stabbed

Rios Dayane Macklarenn
São Bernardo do Campo, Brazil
26-Jan-18
Unknown

Raquel Cosinele
Recife, Brazil
27-Jan-18
stoned

Samira de Alcantara
Nossa Senhora do Socorro, Brazil
29-Jan-18
stabbed

Natália Ketlyn
Campos Altos, Brazil
1-Feb-18
shot

Hemilly Dbx
Garanhuns, Brazil
6-Feb-18
stabbed

Anninha Ferreira Rochee
Colatina, Brazil
7-Feb-18
decapitated/dismembered

A. da S. Silvério
Vitíoria de São Antão, Brazil
8-Feb-18
shot

Lohan
Vitoria, Brazil
8-Feb-18
beaten

Milonga F. L. Martins
Pacajus, Brazil
9-Feb-18
shot

Dominique
Uberlândia, Brazil
10-Feb-18
beaten

Nayra Winston
Rio Largo, Brazil
10-Feb-18
shot

Unknown Name
Fortaleza, Brazil
11-Feb-18
shot

Bruna
Belém, Brazil
12-Feb-18
shot

Keila
Salvador, Brazil
12-Feb-18
shot

Unknown Name
Joao Pessoa, Brazil
12-Feb-18
shot

K. Silva
Manaus, Brazil
13-Feb-18
tortured

Pérola
Sao Paulo, Brazil
14-Feb-18
shot

Bruna Ferrari
Concórdia do Pará, Brazil
15-Feb-18
Unknown

Laysla Oliveira
Ribeirão Preto, Brazil
18-Feb-18
beaten

Amanda Rios
João Pessoa, Brazil
19-Feb-18
shot

Eduarda Brasil
Araras, Brazil
19-Feb-18
other

Rayana Ribeiro
João Pessoa, Brazil
20-Feb-18
Unknown

Bia Rocha
Recife, Brazil
23-Feb-18
Unknown

Claudia Oliveira
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
23-Feb-18
shot

Fernanda Caetano
Lapa, Brazil
23-Feb-18
Unknown

Kimberlys Ochoa
Lara, Venezuela
25-Feb-18
beaten

Fernanda “Pit” Dias
São Mateus, Brazil
27-Feb-18
shot

Alessandra da Silva Alves
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
1-Mar-18
shot

Shayene
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
1-Mar-18
shot

Palola
João Pessoa, Brazil
4-Mar-18
shot

Samielly Castro
São Paulo, Brazil
4-Mar-18
shot

Pâmela Tabete
Craiba, Brazil
8-Mar-18
beaten

Thalita da Silva
Barra do Garças, Brazil
13-Mar-18
throat cut

J. Oliveira da Silva
Vila Velha, Brazil
16-Mar-18
shot

Unknown Name
Ilha do Governador, Brazil
17-Mar-18
decapitated/dismembered

Bruna Gabriel
Ananindeua, Brazil
19-Mar-18
shot

N. Naza
Ananindeua, Brazil
19-Mar-18
shot

Paola Oliveira
Luziânia, Brazil
20-Mar-18
shot

Alanis Burgo
Pelotas, Brazil
22-Mar-18
suffocated

Giorginye Dias de Siqueira
Aparecida de Goiânia, Brazil
22-Mar-18
shot

Unknown Name
São Leopoldo, Brazil
22-Mar-18
shot

Daniela Santos
Ibicaraí, Brazil
23-Mar-18
tortured

Cleide Aládio Zaramarine Neto
Itaberaí, Brazil
25-Mar-18
beaten

Hilda de Melo Matias
Barbalha, Brazil
25-Mar-18
shot

Eduarda Amaro
Pelotas, Brazil
29-Mar-18
shot

Elvira Costa Ferreira
Maranguape, Brazil
2-Apr-18
shot

Andressa Muda
Macaé, Brazil
3-Apr-18
Unknown

Benjamin de Jesus Sousa
Teresina, Brazil
6-Apr-18
stabbed

Angra Alessandra Cupertino
Feira de Santana, Brazil
7-Apr-18
stabbed

Millany Spencer
Nossa Senhora do Socorro, Brazil
14-Apr-18
Beaten and strangled

Nati da Silva
Lajeado, Brazil
20-Apr-18
shot

Nycoly Souza Nardoni Bhals
Governador Valadares, Brazil
22-Apr-18
shot

Gabriely Fancciny
Porto Velho, Brazil
28-Apr-18
stabbed

Matheusx Passarelli
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
29-Apr-18
burned

Raunna Silva
Niterói, Brazil
30-Apr-18
shot

Unknown Name
Campo Grande, Brazil
30-Apr-18
shot

Bianca Santos Albuquerque
Araras, Brazil
30-Apr-18
shot

Paulinha
Fortaleza, Brazil
1-May-18
shot

C. Alves
Vitória da Conquista, Brazil
8-May-18
shot

Myrella Mhell
Pirapora, Brazil
21-May-18
shot

Pandora
Santa Rita, Brazil
21-May-18
shot

Beatriz Ribeiro
Bacabal, Brazil
25-May-18
stabbed

D.R.C.
Jundiaí, Brazil
25-May-18
beaten

I. Silva
Itaberaí, Brazil
29-May-18
Unknown

Patrícia Pereira
Maracanaú, Brazil
31-May-18
shot

Nayra Matos
Maracanaú, Brazil
31-May-18
shot

Britney Vaz
Colniza, Brazil
3-Jun-18
shot

Vitória
Salvador, Brazil
3-Jun-18
shot

Unknown Name
Manaus, Brazil
6-Jun-18
shot

Kamila Roberta
Florianópolis, Brazil
7-Jun-18
beaten

Fernanda Reichert
São Leopoldo, Brazil
9-Jun-18
stabbed

Tiffanny Montel
Boa Vista, Brazil
10-Jun-18
stabbed

Agatha Gomes (Bebê)
Belford Roxo, Brazil
19-Jun-18
shot

Thalia Costa Barboza
São Borja, Brazil
21-Jun-18
stoned

Nikolly Silva
Cabo Frio, Brazil
22-Jun-18
stoned

Gaby Scheifer
Ponta Grossa, Brazil
23-Jun-18
run-over by car

Índia da Silva Pellegrine
Salvador, Brazil
25-Jun-18
shot

Bruna da Conceição
Lagarto, Brazil
25-Jun-18
shot

Carla Croft
Pacajus, Brazil
29-Jun-18
shot

Deepa
Jalandhar, India
3-Jul-18
stabbed

Mirela
Balneário Camboriú, Brazil
4-Jul-18
strangled/hanged

Shirley dos Santos
Recife, Brazil
4-Jul-18
shot

Michele Silveira
Itaperuna, Brazil
7-Jul-18
shot

Fernanda da Biz
Campo Grande, Brazil
8-Jul-18
stabbed

Aisha Albuquerque
Curitiba, Brazil
13-Jul-18
beaten

Daniela Cicarelli
Gurupi, Brazil
17-Jul-18
shot

Lay Neves de Santana
Camaçari, Brazil
17-Jul-18
shot

Unknown Name
Itaperuna, Brazil
20-Jul-18
shot

Paola Villefort
Nova Serrana, Brazil
23-Jul-18
stabbed

Daiane Souza
Porto Alegre, Brazil
26-Jul-18
shot

Gaby Arantes
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
28-Jul-18
beaten

Dudu dos Santos Duarte
Paraisópolis, Brazil
3-Aug-18
shot

Lalesca
Salvador, Brazil
5-Aug-18
throat cut

Paloma Ferreira
Fortaleza, Brazil
6-Aug-18
shot

Paolla “LelÍ” Blayton
Campos, Brazil
7-Aug-18
shot

Karlla da Silva Balbino
Caratinga, Brazil
9-Aug-18
strangled/hanged

T‚nia Lopes
Florianópolis, Brazil
10-Aug-18
shot

Renata
Cabo de Santo Agostinho, Brazil
12-Aug-18
shot

Krispim Souza de Araujo
Mossóro, Brazil
14-Aug-18
shot

D. M. Teixeira
Mossóro, Brazil
20-Aug-18
shot

A. L. da Silva Bezerra
Mossóro, Brazil
20-Aug-18
shot

Evelin Ferrari
Caruaru, Brazil
21-Aug-18
shot

J. F. de Souza
Curitiba, Brazil
23-Aug-18
stoned

Sheila dos Santos
Buriticupu, Brazil
23-Aug-18
stoned

Paola dos Reis
Cuiaba, Brazil
30-Aug-18
stabbed

Rayka
Praia Grande, Brazil
30-Aug-18
Unknown

Unknown Name
Manaus, Brazil
31-Aug-18
stabbed

Deia Alves Maciel
Goiania, Brazil
1-Sep-18
stabbed

Maria Luíza
Sao Paulo, Brazil
1-Sep-18
beaten

Rafaela Sena
Xique-xique, Brazil
2-Sep-18
shot

Unknown Name
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
6-Sep-18
Unknown

Monique Manardi Lee
Sao Paulo, Brazil
11-Sep-18
beaten

Abya Passos Mantovanny
Cuiaba, Brazil
15-Sep-18
stabbed

Kemily
Belem, Brazil
16-Sep-18
shot

J. Oliveira de Araújo
Martins, Brazil
24-Sep-18
Unknown

Nicolly
Lagarto, Brazil
26-Sep-18
beaten

Bolivia

Veronica Carbajal Pinto
La Paz, Bolivia
27-Nov-17
suffocated

Adri Adely Jurado
La Paz, Bolivia
13-Jul-18
stabbed

Chile

Paloma
Santiago, Chile
14-Feb-18
beaten

Colombia

Marilyn Cipriany Guzmán
Medellín, Colombia
30-Dec-17
shot

Chelsy/Cristal Grisales Molina
La Virginia, Colombia
24-Jan-18
shot

Silvana Pineda
La Dorada, Colombia
27-Jan-18
shot

J. A. Marín Marín
Soacha, Colombia
1-Feb-18
stabbed

Tatiana/Tetris/Muelas
Bogota, Colombia
10-Feb-18
stabbed

Alexa Amero Sierra
Bogota, Colombia
9-Mar-18
stabbed

Lorena Molina López
Montenegro, Colombia
25-Mar-18
shot

Alejandra Torres Torres
Manizales, Colombia
22-Apr-18
stabbed

Abril Natasha Quiñónez
Cali, Colombia
12-Aug-18
shot

Lili Chirinos Carrillo
Valledupar, Colombia
18-Aug-18
shot in the head

Unknown Name
Cordova, Colombia
31-Aug-18
Unknown

Carol Perez Guerrero
Ciudad Bolivar, Colombia
22-Sep-18
shot

Unknown Name
Cochabamba, Colombia
23-Sep-18
beaten

Valeria Sandoval
Cali, Colombia
28-Sep-18
asphyxiated

Dominican Republic

Blanca
La Vega, Dominican Republic
27-Jan-18
stabbed

Ecuador

Isabel Borja Suárez
Quevedo, Ecuador
13-May-18
stabbed

El Salvador

Unknown Name
Departamente de la Paz, El Salvador
30-Nov-17
Unknown

Unknown Name
Chalchuapa, El Salvador
18-Jan-18
stabbed

Unknown Name
Cuscatlan, El Salvador
8-Mar-18
stabbed

D. A. Portillo Jiménez
El Salvador, El Salvador
21-Mar-18
stabbed

Geovanny Romero Ortiz
Santa Ana, El Salvador
3-Jun-18
Unknown

Unknown Name
Soyopango, El Salvador
31-Aug-18
Unknown

France

Flávia Luiza
Paris, France
27-Dec-17
Unknown

Vanessa Campos
Paris, France
17-Aug-18
shot

Fiji

Lucky Salavuki
Suva, Fiji
17-May-18
stoned

Guatamala

E. G. Sarat
Xela, Guatamala
27-Nov-17
shot

A. Sis
Salama, Guatamala
16-Jul-18
shot

Yessika Ruedas Gómez
Jalapa, Guatamala
28-Aug-18
stabbed

Débora Ramos Cordón
Chiquimula, Guatamala
22-Sep-18
beaten

Honduras

Tyty
San Pedro Sula, Honduras
23-Jan-18
Unknown

India

Mohit
New Delhi, India
17-Dec-17
beaten

Devudamma Surya Narayana
Anakapalle, India
24-Dec-17
burned

V. Alphonze
Madurai, India
10-Apr-18
stabbed

Chanchal
Aashiana, India
22-Apr-18
shot

Manju
Khajrana, India
7-May-18
stabbed

Chandraiah
Hyderabad, India
26-May-18
beaten

Italy

Ximena Garcia
Nemi, Italy
10-Mar-18
Unknown

Rafaella Rotocalco
Rome, Italy
11-Sep-18
Unknown

Unknown Name
San Giorgio, Italy
23-Sep-18
stabbed

Mexico

Kendrika Itzel D Espino
Chihuahua, Mexico
24-Nov-17
Unknown

Unknown Name
Veracruz, Mexico
30-Nov-17
Unknown, one of four cases on this date

Unknown Name
Veracruz, Mexico
30-Nov-17
Unknown, one of four cases on this date

Unknown Name
Veracruz, Mexico
30-Nov-17
Unknown, one of four cases on this date

Unknown Name
Veracruz, Mexico
30-Nov-17
Unknown, one of four cases on this date

Sandra
Nuevo Leon, Mexico
30-Nov-17
beaten

Unknown Name
Estado de Mexico, Mexico
7-Dec-17
stabbed

Geraldine Contreras
Colima, Mexico
9-Dec-17
Unknown

C.N.
Guerrero, Mexico
17-Dec-17
shot

Canoa
Fortaleza, Mexico
17-Dec-17
shot

Unknown Name
Veracruz, Mexico
31-Dec-17
tortured

G. Carrera
Tamaulipas, Mexico
5-Jan-18
stabbed

Unknown Name
Veracruz, Mexico
11-Jan-18
throat cut

Jessica González
Veracruz, Mexico
11-Jan-18
Unknown

Paola Carranco
Ciudad De Mexico, Mexico
26-Jan-18
shot

Brigith
Quintara Roo, Mexico
27-Jan-18
shot

C. Antuan
Guanajuato, Mexico
12-Feb-18
shot

Unknown Name
Ciudad Victoria, Mexico
17-Feb-18
shot, one of three cases on this date

Unknown Name
Ciudad Victoria, Mexico
17-Feb-18
shot, one of three cases on this date

Unknown Name
Ciudad Victoria, Mexico
17-Feb-18
shot, one of three cases on this date

Samantha
Guerrero, Mexico
6-Mar-18
Unknown

Unknown Name
Sinaloa, Mexico
7-Mar-18
Unknown

Sheila
Nayarit, Mexico
15-Mar-18
shot

Charly
Puebla, Mexico
22-Mar-18
decapitated/dismembered

Yoselyn
Veracruz, Mexico
4-Apr-18
Unknown

Grechen Alina Lara García
Nuevo Leon, Mexico
9-Apr-18
tortured and suffocated

Unknown Name
Nuevo Leon, Mexico
17-Apr-18
Tortured and strangled

Brisa
Veracruz, Mexico
22-Apr-18
shot

Unknown Name
Puebla, Mexico
23-Apr-18
stabbed

A.
Jalisco, Mexico
25-Apr-18
stoned

Unknown Name
Guerrero, Mexico
27-Apr-18
shot

Unknown Name
Nuevo Leon, Mexico
21-May-18
suffocated

Yamileth Quintero
Sinaloa, Mexico
24-May-18
shot

Maritza Harrera
Guerrero, Mexico
25-May-18
stabbed

S. Antolli
Chiapas, Mexico
29-May-18
stabbed

J. Martínez Cepeda
Coahuila, Mexico
10-Jun-18
asphyxiatied and hit by a rock

Unknown Name
Michoacan, Mexico
14-Jun-18
shot

Unknown Name
Colima, Mexico
16-Jun-18
Unknown

Nataly Briyith Sánchez
Chiapas, Mexico
19-Jun-18
Unknown

Alexa GutiÈrrez
Aguascalientes, Mexico
24-Jun-18
Unknown

Katy
Morelos, Mexico
24-Jun-18
shot

Unknown Name
Chiapas, Mexico
30-Jun-18
Unknown, one of six cases on this date

Unknown Name
Chiapas, Mexico
30-Jun-18
Unknown, one of six cases on this date

Unknown Name
Chiapas, Mexico
30-Jun-18
Unknown, one of six cases on this date

Unknown Name
Chiapas, Mexico
30-Jun-18
Unknown, one of six cases on this date

Unknown Name
Chiapas, Mexico
30-Jun-18
Unknown, one of six cases on this date

Unknown Name
Chiapas, Mexico
30-Jun-18
Unknown, one of six cases on this date

Unknown Name
Estado de Mexico, Mexico
10-Jul-18
Unknown

Chanel
Estado de Mexico, Mexico
15-Jul-18
shot

L. M. Cocom Guzmán
Yucatan, Mexico
15-Jul-18
strangled

Alexa Altamirano Martínez
Guanajuato, Mexico
23-Jul-18
beaten

Alaska Contreras Ponce
Veracruz, Mexico
26-Jul-18
tortured

Linda
Estado de Mexico, Mexico
26-Jul-18
suffocated

Unknown Name
Guanajuato, Mexico
5-Aug-18
shot

M.R.M.
Quintana Roo, Mexico
6-Aug-18
shot

J. C. M.
Oaxaca, Mexico
12-Aug-18
shot

Unknown Name
Guerrero, Mexico
30-Aug-18
shot

Jhoana Hernández
Veracruz, Mexico
1-Sep-18
stabbed

Ana Corina Burgos
Ciudad de Mexico, Mexico
11-Sep-18
shot

Azuani Díaz García
Chilapa, Mexico
22-Sep-18
shot

Dayana Letran
Acayucan, Mexico
26-Sep-18
shot

Paulina Domínguez Hernández
Cotzacoalco, Mexico
27-Sep-18
shot

New Zealand

Zena Campbell
Wellington, New Zealand
11-Feb-18
strangled/hanged

Pakistan

Spogmai
Peshawar, Pakistan
26-Nov-17
shot

Chutki
Peshawar, Pakistan
27-Mar-18
shot

Sheena
Swabi, Pakistan
22-Apr-18
shot

Muni
Kotkay, Pakistan
4-May-18
shot

Sania
Hafizabad, Pakistan
20-Jul-18
shot

Nasir Naso
Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province, Pakistan
18-Aug-18
Aug-18

Unknown Name
Sahiwal, Pakistan
6-Sep-18
burned

Paraguay

Ada Mía Naomi Gomez Rivas
Piribebuy, Paraguay
27-Aug-18
stabbed

Nicol Ortellado Ferreira
Puerto Oblidago, Paraguay
27-Sep-18
stabbed

Peru

J. E. Ruidíaz Fernández
Lima, Peru
11-Feb-18
shot

Yamilet
Iquitos, Peru
14-Mar-18
stabbed

Philippines

Unknown Name
Pasay City, Philippines
23-Jan-18
Unknown

South Africa

Ousi Kagiso
Rustenburg, South Africa
6-Jan-18
strangled/hanged

Gugu Modise
Ventersdorp, South Africa
1-Sep-18
stabbed

Spain

Eli
Valladolid, Spain
22-Sep-18
beaten

Trinidad and Tobago

Keon Alister Patterson
St. Clair, Trinidad and Tobago
5-Dec-17
Shot

Turkey

I. Y.
Zonguldak, Turkey
5-Dec-17
shot

Kader Ataman
Ayvalik Sarimsakli, Turkey
13-Dec-17
shot

Kristina
Beyoglu, Turkey
8-Mar-18
shot

Nefes
Ankara, Turkey
10-Mar-18
strangled/hanged

Simge Avci
Samsun, Turkey
13-Jul-18
shot

Begüm
Bursa, Turkey
19-Aug-18
burned

Esra Ates
Beyoglu, Turkey
25-Aug-18
stabbed

United Kingdom

Naomi Hersi
London, United Kingdom
18-Mar-18
stabbed

United States of America

Brooklyn BreYanna Stevenson
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, United States of America
27-Nov-17
Shot to death

Brandi Seals
Houston, Texas, United States of America
13-Dec-17
Shot

Zakaria “Z” Fry
Albuquerque, New Mexico, United States of America
Jan-18
Blunt force trauma

Christa Leigh Steele-Knudslien
North Adams, Massachusetts, United States of America
6-Jan-18
Stabbed and bludgeoned

Viccky Gutierrez
Los Angeles, California, United States of America
10-Jan-18
Undetermined

Celine Walker
Jacksonville, Florida, United States of America
4-Feb-18
Shot

Tonya Harvey
Buffalo, New York, United States of America
6-Feb-18
Shot

Phylicia Mitchell
Cleveland, Ohio, United States of America
23-Feb-18
Shot

Amia Tyrae Berryman
Baton Rogue, Louisiana, United States of America
26-Mar-18
Shot to death

Sasha Wall
Chicago, Illinois, United States of America
1-Apr-18
Shot to death

Carla Patricia Flores-Pavon, United States of America
Dallas, Texas
9-May-18
Strangled to death

Nino Fortson
Atlanta, Georgia, United States of America
13-May-18
Shot multiple times

Gigi Pierce
Portland, Oregon, United States of America
21-May-18
Shot

Antash’a Devine Sherrington English
Jacksonville, Florida, United States of America
1-Jun-18
Shot

Diamond Stephens
Meridian, Mississippi, United States of America
18-Jun-18
Shot

Cathalina Christina James
Jacksonville, Florida, United States of America
24-Jun-18
Shot to death

Keisha “Pokey” Wells
Cleveland, Ohio, United States of America
24-Jun-18
Shot and killed

Sasha Garden
Orlando, Florida, United States of America
19-Jul-18
Undetermined

Dejanay Stanton
Chicago, Illinois, United States of America
30-Aug-18
Shot to death

Vontashia Bell
Shreveport, Louisiana, United States of America
30-Aug-18
Shot

Shantee Tucker
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States of America
5-Sep-18
Shot

Londonn Moore
Port Charlotte, Florida, United States of America
8-Sep-18
Shot

Ciara Minaj Carter Frazier
Chicago, Illinois, United States of America
3-Oct-18
Shot to death

Venezuela

Vicky Julieth Alvarado
Moran, Venezuela
27-Jan-18
stabbed

Malvina Paiva
Caracas, Venezuela
3-Mar-18
shot

China Colón
Naguanagua, Venezuela
24-Apr-18
shot

Rosada Durán Romero
Lara, Venezuela
17-May-18
shot

Carol Pérez Guerrero
Bolivar, Venezuela
23-Sep-18
shot


Tuesday, October 9, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018, Day the Ninth - Fireflies


Day the Ninth. This time we'll do a more-or-less all dialog story, of the kind Terry Bison used to write sometimes.



Fireflies


The scene: late summer, far from the city. The flickering of fireflies still danced through the warm night air.

“I caught one!”

“Look at it. It keeps wriggling towards the light.”

“Yeah, they’re persistent, but pretty ugly.”

I think it’s beautiful, even if it doesn’t have the right number of legs or the right number of eyes.”

“Can I keep it? I’ll put it in a jar and feed it every night, I promise.”

“Now, what did I say?”

“That keeping them is cruel.”

“And what happened to the last one?”

“…”

“well…?”

“I PROMISE I won’t let this one die. I promise!”

“Look at it. It isn’t even full-grown yet. Just give it a dream of something pleasant and let it go.”


Billy yawned, got up from the corner of the yard where he must have fallen asleep. He brushed some grass off his pants and headed inside, the memory of dancing lights fading from his mind. 
Image by Brian Luong 



Monday, October 8, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018, Day the eighth - The Mirror


Eight stories in eight days. 

All caught up. We might try something different stylistically or thematically tomorrow, depending on the prompt. 


The Mirror

There is a world in which dwelled much ill in this world, much that gives despair. A world in which even dreams are too dear for most, in which few joys are open to most.

Few paths to joy save the pilgrimage to the mirror.

The mirror.

A crystal lake as clear as daylight, as still as a newborn robin, huddled in its nest.

Perhaps as fragile.

The mirror reflects the land around it perfectly, the trees, the sky, the ancient fortress built in times forgotten. For as long as that fortress stood, so too did the tales of the mirror. That the world we see through those stillclear waters is not a reflection of our world, but of its opposite.

A world in which the fortress, hear long abandoned, teams with life.

A world ruled by a lineage of successions of benevolent matriarchs. A world in which that famous travelling scientist had a beard.

A world other than this one.

Few go. It’s remote, it’s isolated, it is, to be honest, a bit underwhelming. You can’t see into this mirror world, merely gaze and know that it’s there.

For some, that is enough.

They return to their homes and their lives with a sense of acceptance, if not peace.

For some that is enough.

For others a glance into the mirror is not enough. Each year some take the pilgrimage, fill their pockets with stones, and step into the stillness of the mirror. What they find on the other side we’ll never know, but we can hope that they’ve found peace.

If you see them come to your world, wherever you are, show kindness to them.


Nightmare Fuel 2018, Day the Seventh


Seven days of this. This time I'm a day late because Sunday is a day for family (as well as long twitter chats about the world of commercial AV technology, but that's another topic). Perhaps I'll catch up soon.

Some Trees



The three dandelions grew less than a foot apart, in the ragged grass. The first had nine visible leaves. The second –

                      ---"Lucas! The ball!”

Lucas’s examination of the field was cut short by his father’s strident yell, above the voices of his coach, teammates, their parents. Not the coach’s parents. That would be silly. Lucas’s head jerked upward at the sound of their voices, only to see the ball sail past him, a blue-shirted opponent behind. He turned to follow a moment too late, helplessly watched from behind the fake, the shot, the goal.

Three to nothing.

“Heads UP Lucas! Stop watching the dandelions and start watching the game.”

He did put his head up, looked over the grass, through the goalposts to the woods behind. The first row of trees were dead. That’s what he always noticed; stick-figure trees, bare of leaves all year long. Trees like giant people with no clothes or faces or leaves.

Creepy trees that would eat the coach and the families and his dad.

Another kid had told Lucas that kids used to vanish into the woods, never to be seen again. Maybe the trees got them?

Maybe the trees were people, the vanished kids all grow up and watching the soccer game.

The ball didn’t come near Lucas again until his two mandatory quarters had been played and coach pulled him out. Improbably, they scored four goals in the second half to win it, 4-3.

Lucas watched the trees as coach gathered the team to the middle of the field to congratulate them on a hard-fought win, tell him he was proud of them. Were the trees closer?

Would they take him next, away from the false congratulations for a game he didn’t help win?

Lucas watched them draw closer as the coach slapped the backs and shook the hands of his teammates.

Saturday, October 6, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018, day the sixth

Today is an experiment in process rather than style; this was written over the course of 35 minutes and 42 seconds on an exercise bike at the gym on my phone. 

I'm not sure if that made it make less sense or more; it is a different experience, and a change in the level of focus.



Too Few for a Coven


Three is too few for a coven.

You all  knew that.

Oh, three would have been fine were they mother and maiden and crone, but Jane wasn't quite a maiden anymore, Becky not much closer. They took pains to avoid motherhood, and even their mothers weren't crones. Not by far.

Still, Mary and you and Becky were all that they had, here in the bedroom community where Becky and Mary's dad slept after a day's work and Jane's mother did what single suburban mothers did.
She survived.

You are too few for a coven,  but they needed to be something. The three amigos and three musketeers are all men and boys, and they'd had enough of men and boys.

Especially Jane.

So a coven you'd be. The White Pines Conclave, named for the coniferous wood and not the abandoned 1950s mental hospital alongside it. The people of White Pines had an unspoken deal with the restless dead of many decades ago - each side would pretend the other didn't exist.

It went well.

The world works by unspoken bargains of this sort. You don't talk about the creepy ruins. Don't ask your neighbor how he can afford a new BMW all of a sudden. Don't ask the woman across the street why she's wearing so much make-up in a Sunday morning.

You don't ask what happened at homecoming.

You know, but you don't ask.

Instead you take your two best friends and call yourself a coven even though you aren't. You gather twigs and feathers and pretty rocks with magic powerz, even though your family is lapsed Catholics except your grandmother who still kept trying to get you to say the rosary, until the day she died.

You still keep her beads in your purse because she'd have wanted it, though they mean nothing to you.

You all know the irony of Mary being named for the Virgin, but you make that joke. You did once, and knew it was a mistake. Now you think it sometimes when meet her eyes as you say the name, in your secret space where the hospital washroom was, by the ancient stone washbasin.

Sometimes in this space you finger your grandmother's beads, think of the other Mary, who was a whore.

Beloved by Jesus.

You think all these things as you three sit in the stone space, once the home of those suffering hysteria were once sequestered.

Maybe someday you'll sacrifice a goat or a squirrel or a young virgin boy, summon a demon to this place, raze the sleepy little town to the ground, like they deserve.

Maybe someday.

For now, you're too few for a coven, but you'll be one anyway.



Friday, October 5, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018, Day the Fifth - A Winter Vacation


Day the Fifth. Let's head south, for a winter vacation.

No, it's not you; I think these are getting stranger as the month goes along. This is only day 5, so I'm not sure where we'll end up.

Winter Vacation


Inana came to the great terminal, at the port at the edge of the air.

She awaited her turn, approached the first of the guardians of the air,

Was asked to remove her shoes, her sparkling bejeweled belt and her jacket, crafted from the leather of an ancient and long extinct beast adorned with bright brass buttons.
.
The shoes and jacket were returned to her, but he belt buckle was sharp-edged, needed to be surrendered before she could ride to the skies.

She descended to the south, disembarked from another port, this one named for a sacred forest. She considered this a good omen.

She stepped into the oppressive heat, surrendering the jacket she'd reclaimed from the guardians in the north.

She traveled on, first by hired car (leaving her bag behind) then on foot.

Which each garment, each accoutrement she left behind she felt a bit weaker, a bit lighter, but certain she was on the right path. After all, she'd done this before. This was far from her first descent to a place too hot, too far, too much stinking of death and decay.

She left a single shoe behind in the grass, limped along a mile before discarding the other at the side of the road. She should have saved them for last, but the locals in places like this get strange around too much bared flesh.

Still, her clothes she discarded only blocks later as she neared the gates.

Of course there were gates.

These were faux-wrought iron, set in stucco towerettes with faux-tile roofs.

No sentry save an outdoor-rated dome camera and an RFID sensor.

No matter; there was form to such things. Inana removed the rest of her clothing, her body bared to the unblinking gaze of the camera as she slipped through the gates and into the community.

She strode past identical Spanish-style ranch homes,  shedding her skin at the base of a palm tree, leaving her bones piled up aside the next.


At last at her destination, she enters his home and settles in, alongside him, and waits.

That what this is for, after all.
Image by Hilary Truman

Perhaps when the waiting is over she'll recollect her bones
and her flesh
and her clothes
and that discarded shoe
and the jacket
and her favorite belt

and return North for the coming Spring.

After.



Thursday, October 4, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018, Day the Fourth - Minutes from the Early October Meeting of the Coven


Day four. The days I don't commute are harder because I don't have the time on the train for writing.

Some days are dialog, some days stories, some days odd little experiments. This is that kind of day.



Minutes from the Early October Meeting of the Coven


Old Business


  • Renew binding spells on current leadership
    • Enjoin against the doing of harm
    • Add to list of focus ingredients 
      • Beer to enjoin against harm done through drunken debauchery
      • A baby rattle to enjoin against harm done to children and other youth
      • A coin to enjoin against continued theft of resources.

  • Review the possibility of curses against current leadership
    • Discussion -- will this make us "as bad as they are?"
    • Redirect energies to healing?
    • "Save what we love" vs "destroy what we hate"
      • This is understood to be a quote from a movie. It still fits us
    • To be revisited next full moon.

New Business
  • Robes ordered - should be available before moonlit nights get too cold.
  • Candles are traditional, but damage to the ceiling is getting out of hand. We need to do a better job of cleaning up after ourselves.



Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018, Day the Third - Remembrance of Reconstruction


This one is nakedly topical, drawn heavily on current events for the last year. Also a ghost story, because October is the time for ghosts.

So... boo!


Remembrance of Reconstruction

You never fired a gun, barely held one. You remember that, barely.

Memories are always hazy,  from before your death. They all get tangled up by how the living look back at you, where you're memorialized, the passing of time.


You must have for a time posed as a soldier, because that's who you are, here in the hereafter. That's what people see when they look.

You don't remember anger from your life either, but you feel that. It's nearly the first thing you remember from the years after your death - a seething resentment. You feel spread out, losing your sense of space.

You're in a meadow.

At the edge of a forest.

Outside a courthouse.

In a public park.

You're many places. The further you stretch, the less you remember yourself. You lose your hometown, your first kiss, your job.

You forget your name.


You remember hatred, anger.

Grass grows short and scraggly around your markers, trees grow stunted. Autumn comes a bit earlier, spring a bit later. You are winter. You are death, or death's cousin.

Then, slowly, perhaps, the world changes. Your awareness of the courthouses and the parks and the town squares fade. Still you are hatred, you are bitter anger, but your world is shrinking.

Finally, there's nearly nothing more. Just a quiet, dark place near the edge of the cemetery, beneath an oak tree too old and too strong to care for your anger.

Finally, not even a memory remains.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018, Day the Second - The Vigil


Day two. The round window felt reminiscent of an eye. That and the rude, unmade bed made me think of a sad, solitary watcher. Who was he watching? For what end? Come join us for the vigil.

The Vigil 


I never use the lamp.

I brought it up to the attic, of course,  for the possibility of reading. By day the great window gives enough light to read by and by night… well, we know the problems of lighting a lamp by night. It would mean that they could see in, that I couldn’t see out.

That you could see in, that I could not see you.

You don’t know to keep your lamps out. Don’t know or don’t care, it’s all the same. While your windows aren’t as grand as mine, they are broad enough and tall enough and covered only by the thinnest, gauziest of shades. Pinprick shades, some call them. Not enough to keep you safe, to keep your lamplight from spilling outside to where they can see you.

You likely don’t even think about them.

That’s OK. I do. And I watch.

It’s lonely, this vigil from the attic with no company save the empty bottle and the sounds of crickets. No company save for the lonely, hard men outside. The ones who walk with their eyes up, hoping to peek through those pinprick shades for a glance at the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hip, the delicate lines of your neck. From up here I see all of them.

If any tried anything, I’d be there in a flash.

You don’t know it, but you’re safe. I keep you safe, through the lonely, dark nights. In the daylight I leave, my attic bed unmade, my window gazing at yours, my home’s eye to your home’s eye, my home’s soul to yours.

In the night I return to my vigil. I never use the lamp. 

Monday, October 1, 2018

Nightmare Fuel 2018 - Day the First!

It's that time again! Daily Flash Fiction through the month of October, sometimes dark, sometimes creepy. The estimable Bliss Morgan as usual hosts it here, on the Google+ social network. Yes, Google+ is still a thing.

Here's my first, as I start getting into it. We'll see how many we get this year.



Like a Japanese Girl

"Draw me like one of your Japanese girls."

She knew it was a corny line, but knew his type. The kind of guy who insisted that he read manga, not comic books. The kind who went to Aikido class three days a week, who insisted he knew what "ki" is. The guy whose prize possession is that Yoshitako Amano book he got the author to sign. Yeah, that book by the mainstream western author.

That type of guy.

Image from Lustige Blätter,circa 1899
She also knew that, as easily mistaken for a white-bread suburban American as she was, she fit the type. Straight black hair. Fair skin. What else did he really need? She knew his type, she could smell desperation.  To be fair, she could fit quite a few types.

So he went home, studied his manga-not-comics, scoured the web for drawings.

On the first day, he came to her studio apartment. He drew her as a schoolgirl, starched white blouse, pleated skirt, maryjanes. Her hair playful bound in pigtails, a playful smile on her face. Smooth penstrokes, her face youthful and vulnerable. She shook her head. '

"I'm not that kind of Japanese girl," she giggled. She kissed his cheek, invited him back the next day.

So he went home, took the book of court photos from his bookcase and studied.

On the second day he came to her studio apartment. He drew her as a geisha, her kimono poorly tied with a too-long obi. He never did get the hang of drawing knots. Her eyes narrow, her hair done up high. His penstrokes were long and languid, with flourishes meant to hint at whatever design the kimono would have; he wasn't sure on that either. She shook her head,

"no, no, no. I'm not that kind of Japanese girl either. You get one more try." She sighed sadly, kissed him lightly on the lips, bade him return the next day.

So he went home, one more time. He studied reproduction woodblock prints of demons and devils.

On the third day he came to her studio apartment. He drew her as a monster, her nude body hidden behind a mound of skulls, her eyes a touch mad. His pen skipped across her face, barely outlining it, but lingering over the skulls. He drew her hair down, weaving between the mound of skulls like a river. She shook her head,

"I suppose I'm not a Japanese girl after all." she whispered as she lead him to her bed, silently. The next words she spoke - as if the time between hadn't passed at all - were barely a whisper, all breath and no voice, "but I am a monster."

Truth be told, he wasn't a meal worth savoring, but was a meal nonetheless. She briefly considered keeping his skull, but she had enough already.

Friday, July 20, 2018

Flash Fiction Friday - Returning



One more Friday flash. A quick piece not at all inspired by the fact that my child is at last returning home after a month at sleepaway camp.


Returning



You weren’t thinking about your partner or your child when you made the wish. You should have been, but who wouldn’t wish to live forever? It’s what people have sought throughout the ages. Your wish was granted; you’d join the revels in the fairy realm and live forever.

So they took you, away from this world, to the fairy realm and the revels there. So you dances, you frolicked. You drank sweet nectar, ate ambrosia. You thought you’d stay for a day, return to your family.

The moon rose, the moon set. And again, and again.

Through it all you dance, you eat, and you drink. Finally, you realized that even if this iss life eternal, it isn’t really a life. SO you leave, walking back towards your home and family.

You leave the glen where the fey held their revels, you walk through a dark forest. You remember to stay on the path, confident that it would leave back, back to your world. The path always leaves home, for those who stay on it. This you believe.

A year passes. You forget the sound of your partner’s voice.

You reach the end of the forest, find yourself at the edge of a trackless desert. Surely home will be on the other side. Surely.

You walk, navigating by the inconstant stars and the memory of your child’s eyes. Bright blue eyes.

You’ve learned your lesson from the revel, resist the temptation to pause at an oasis and drink. You’re hungry and thirsty.

Ten more years pass before you leave the desert. You forget the color of your child’s hair.

You come to the ocean, build a raft of driftwood. Home must be nearby. You push off into the sea and drift.

Twenty years pass, and then another twenty. You forget your partner’s voice, the color of your child’s hair.

You forget your own name.

You drift until, in the distance, you spy a lighthouse. Its beacon is blue, the color of your child’s eyes. The only thing you remember.
 
On the shore, beyond the beach you find a small house in which an old, old person sits watching the sea. Their eyes are blue, the blue you remember.

You great them. Tears well up in those blue eyes as you embrace, and as you realize that you did it all wrong. They should have wandered, you should have stayed home to wait.

Friday, July 13, 2018

Flash Fiction Friday - The Laptop Whisperer


A fragment this time, which like so many fragments may or may not stretch out to a full length work.

I like the character of the "laptop whisperer" and we'll perhaps learn about him and see a bit more of him.

The Laptop Whisperer


They called him the laptop whisperer.

Nobody really knew how he did it, but they knew he did. He'd wave his hand over a power brick -- always his left hand, the one with the jagged scar near the little finger - and stare off into space for a moment. Then he'd tell us, without fail and with one hundred percent accuracy, whether or not there was something wrong with it. A loose connection, a fluctuation in the output voltage. He'd get it right. Every time.

If anyone asked how he did it, he'd smile, wave his fingers in complex patterns, and say, "Maybe I'm a wizard".

He was not, of course, a wizard. Just someone willing to take risks, who knew that the human body and brain are flexible and adaptable, that the brain will learn to recognize anything, including a magnetic sensor implanted in your left hand, behind a surgical scar.

It became an obsession with him, this second-sight. He of course added more. He can smell WiFi. taste magnetic fields. Hear variations in background radiation. He outgrew DIY modifications, sought far and wide for those with medical training, and resources, and few ethics.

He began to think himself a wizard.

The brain is flexible, but the brain is not infinite.

It's the last one that did him in -- cosmic background radiation. You see, the universe is never silent. It's always there, a hum in the back of his head that he just can't tune out.

He hasn't slept in weeks. It keeps him awake, the universe. After a time, it learns how to make sense of things.


As he lies awake, with no other sound, he hears it. He's starting to make sense of it. He hasn't yet, but he's starting to.

The universe is talking to him.


What's it saying? Is it telling him the secret meaning of creation? Is it guiding him, teaching him? Is it telling him to commit unspeakable evils?


Until we're willing to reshape our brains as he did, and learn to listen.

Friday, July 6, 2018

Flash Fiction Friday - The Fairy Guardian

Flash Fiction Friday again - with a trip to suburbia and a glance at one of those odious "blue lives matter" flags. Are the people who fly them what we'd expect? 


The Fairy Guardian



Nobody in the suburbs knows anyone else. Oh, I know they see me out every morning to raise the flag with the blue stripe across the middle. From that they probably think they know everything about me. That I'm a steady man. Solid. Reliable. Honorable. Those things are true, if they could see beyond the wooden stockade fence they'd see another side.

They'd see the fairy garden.

It started with Mrs. Gant, who used to live next door. The kind of neighborhood catlady that would have been hanged as a witch in a different century. She always had the most perfect garden, the most vibrant flowers, the fattest tomatoes. I like gardening myself (see, you don't know everything about me) and asked her secret.

I remember to this day, how it felt to come into her yard. Like I was intruding into a feminine space where men don't belong. The smell of lavender and hibiscus, the delicate garden statues, the path of decorative stepping stones leading to a hidden spot beneath the forsythia bush where broken seashells were arranged in an abstract pattern. She waved her arm expansively, inviting me to take in the space, "This is my secret. I do it for them, to make them feel welcome."

"To make who feel welcome?"

She smiled. "The fey folk, of course. Fairies love lavender and hibiscus and spaces decorated with pretty stoneworks and little bits from far-off places. I give them a home and they give me their blessings."

It seemed true. Her yard was brighter than the others, her flowers grew bigger and more vibrant. Even the air had a different feel, a different energy. Even her sky seemed brighter.

Mrs Gant is long gone, but I learned from her, and even gathered some of the things from her fairy garden. A few of the little statues, a handful of seasells. The flowers I grew myself. The fairy-home
grew from a corner to where it is now, filling in the fenced-in backyard, with worn stepping stones cutting paths through fields of cultivated wildflowers.  I think all the fairies from the neighborhood have come to live here by now, which is good. IT means it's time.

How to attract fairies isn't the only thing I've learned.

Yesterday I turned on the garden hose which loops the yard three times. Three is a magic number, and fairies can't cross running water. Those that are here will remain here. They'll remain here as I sprinkle the garden with iron filings, they'll weaken.

They'll die.

And after that this cul-de-sac will be what it always should have been - a human place. Mrs. Gant attracted the infestation, I'm exterminating it.

I'm doing it for the neighbors, for the children. They deserve a human place.

They deserve protectors.

And now you know me.

Friday, June 29, 2018

Flash Fiction Friday - She Remembers


Hello everybody! Let's bring Flash Fiction Friday - and this blog - back. 

I'm commuting thrice a week, so these will all be super-short pieces I can finish on my morning commute from Huntington to Penn Station. 

Most of these will come with a picture, though the picture may or may not have anything directly to do with the story. 

We'll see how many Fridays I can keep this up this time. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She Remembers



She watches from the sky. It’s all she can do now.

That, and remember.

She remembers travelling, from great cities with terraced hanging gardens, past the life-giving river peopled by her single-headed cousins. Across the sea to the bottomless lake she called home.

Travelers would see her, but rarely and only once. Some whispered that beyond her lake lay the realm of the dead, where men eternally slumber. She cared not for that, only for the cool waters of the lake, the way the bones of its fish crunch when she caught them in one of her mouths. Yes, her time in the lake was the best time of her life, or at least the most peaceful.

She’d have been pleased to know that is how we named her.
Sculpture by Luciano Garbati

That time was long ago.

It ended the way all such things end, with a hero. You know the kind, and you know the story. We tell it again and again.

Greater than any mortal man, clad in valor and glory and the skin of a lion, wielding a blade. They always wield a blade.

They always bring a friend, a sidekick, a spearcarrier. Were the hero alone, who would tell their tale?

You know the story of the fight. IT’s been told enough. What you don’t know, what you perhaps never wondered, is why? Why would she not snap up the spearcarrier, break her in those mighty jaws, extinguish the burning brand in his fist as she extinguished his life? She was not a stupid beast, and she’s known the hero would not prevail. Could not prevail alone. This she knew, but there’s something we don’t know.

The hero – the one wearing the skin of another beast he’d slain – was not the first. She was a proving ground, a test. Her mistress would call to her, she’d rise. And fight. Sometimes she’d flee and the hero could say she’d been vanquished. Sometimes she’d taste flesh and bones that crunch so much harder than those of fishes.

Always she’d leave with another wound, another scar.

She was tired. She was done. So she fought, hard enough to put on a good show, not smart enough to win. Each kiss of the flame seared, burned, ached. And then her last head was struck clean off, and then it was over.

Silence.

Darkness.


Until her mistress gathered what was left, painted her essence into the vault of stars where she remains now, a dream, an idea, the last of her kind. Would she weep to know that we think of her – if at all – as a mere monster, an obstacle, a footnote in the hero’s story?

Or have her thoughts grown beyond us as she looks down from what is left of the heavens, now littered with younger and tamer dreams?

Watching.

Remembering.