The well-praised man named Carl Baker (a friend of mine) had been previously living a generally normal and calm life, he was quietly walking down the enormous street and was accidently and abruptly stopped by a seemingly tall man, who looked rather fragile and disturbed because of the dilapidated and usual way he walked and the way his wrinkly face spaced out with a scary frown, as he politely asked “Hey I think I may recognize you from somewhere but I’m am not so thoughtfully sure because you really look like someone I, the brave and courageous Colonial Vasille Zeitsev of the fierce 64^th infantry and 4^th battalion of the stealthy and Mosin Nagant-carrying sniper elite division, had fought vigorously and impulsively with, at the bloody and deadly Battle of Stalingrad which took place between 17 July 1942 and 2 February 1943 and was among the largest and most gruesome battle on the Eastern Front against the German’s Wehrmacht who were sinuously trying to take complete control of the injured and broken city of Stalingrad, the capital of Soviet Russia at the time which was under siege, meaning absolutely nothing such as people or export and imports like food could come in or out,” in which I replied “Well yes, I, Carl Baker of the fierce 64^th infantry and 4^th battalion of the stealthy and Mosin Nagant-carrying sniper elite division, too have fought at the gruesome battle of Stalingrad as I was a sniper that had killed 245 German officers and I’m glad we meet again SNAKE.”

It was noon when I told her -- her being a woman named Roberta who is prone to hysterics at the sheer mention of Monaco, bastard children, blonds, brunettes, tabby cats, or breakfast cereal due to the rather infamous actions of her eldest son at the end of the oh so harrowing France-Australia war -- of the very dead gentleman now adorning her critically acclaimed gnome sanctuary (a body which came to be in its present state, oh Reader, when a young, vivacious, albeit paranoid and often ridiculous woman from a small Minnesota town, who decided to leave her childhood home to join this small grouping of wayward individuals in Montana, including the befuddled Roberta, in the hopes of escaping the seemingly ever-present feeling of dread that stemmed from her growing realization that the world existed beyond the scope of her limited and often quite morose imagination, perceived she was in danger and being stalked as she walked home from her unfulfilling employment as the town’s assistant deputy sidewalk and bike lane inspector - a familiar feeling for this paranoid lass which tends to manifest itself most aggressively in the evening hours of a mildly comfortable day with a 50% chance of rain after ten, when she decided for safety’s sake to attack the assailant that was “undoubtedly” prowling behind with her purse bayonet, killing him instantly with his last thought being one of confusion as to why this crazed woman stabbed him while he was walking to his sister’s house.)

Last year, during spring break, in the rainy month of April, which is also the glorious month of my birthday, I was extremely bored to death and the boredom caused me to watch my life saving cable TV, but there wasn’t anything on cable television so I was forced to switch my attention to the computer to watch shows that normally don’t come on American TV because they only exist in the wonderful country of Japan so I used the magical power of the internet to watch a comedy, mystery, psychological, science fiction, slice of life, and supernatural genre anime titled “The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya”; which is about a beautiful girl named Haruhi Suzumiya who introduces herself as having "no interest in ordinary humans" but she creates a school club called 'Save our world by Overloading it with fun Suzumiya Haruhi's Brigade' or the S.O.S. Brigade in short, whose main goal is to find any aliens, time travelers, sliders or espers(an individual capable of telepathy and other similar paranormal abilities) and it’s ironic how the students who join the club are aliens, time travelers, and ESPers but there is one member who is nothing special, he is just an ordinary schoolboy who doesn’t believe in aliens, time travelers, or espers but he soon find out that they are real and they only exist because the girl Haruhi Suzumiya is a god and she makes whatever she wants to happen because she is a god and cause things to happen with her mind.

It was a sticky, sweaty day, the kind that makes every article of clothing your wearing melt into your skin like a thick stick of butter in a scolding hot skillet or like a snowball in the warm waters of the Red Sea as I sat in Youseff’s dark muggy house on the dangerous crime and crack infested corner of 54^th and Springfield, I began to sweat, small beads of perspiration formed along my hairline and dribbled down the sides of my face, more formed in the crease of my neck and behind my ears, I sat continually dabbing myself with thin moist tissues that only left tiny papery balls along my hot irritated body as I wiped a pool of sweat out of my eyes I looked across the room at Kavi, she was curled up on the loveseat, knees tucked into chest, her feet covered in black socks with ugly big eyed frogs with long pink looped tongues and she had her eyes open, I could see her small hazel pupils peeking through her lash invaded eyelids, I though “why does she sleep like that?”, Anwar must have read my mind because he slithered from his cool spot on the floor and crept his sweaty black face right up to Kavi’s and screamed a loud shrieking pubescent scream as her face met his- now of course Kavi jumped and Youseff came tumbling down the stairs, he tripped on a pair of roller skates that were left on the steps.

 

So, today was an extremely long day. It was filled with classes, but my worries began this morning during X-Band. My best friend started shaking uncontrollably in the middle of Calculus class and it was not easy to handle. Seeing someone that I'm so close to and who generally brightens the days of many people in such a bad position made me want to cry. The only thing I could actually do was text her mom and hold her trembling hands between shudders while we waited for her mom to pick her up. And my day never seemed as long as that hour felt to me, seeing someone I love so much and having no way to help her.

Shortly after arriving home from military school (which his mother forced him to go after a series of what she deemed “unruly behavior”), Jason quickly discovers that his dad has been dating a much younger woman only several months after the death of his mother, who had been tragically killed in a freak car accident – the same car accident that killed his younger sisters Jessica and Michelle on the way to their dentist appointment; Jason decides that there is something strange about his father’s new girlfriend, like she is hiding something – something she definitely doesn’t want the family to know; while obviously preoccupied on his date, clearly thinking about the possible investigation work on his father’s girlfriend,  while confiding in his girlfriend of two years as they were on their first date since he returned home, “there’s something about her, I don’t know what it is, but I don’t trust her”, clearly in doubt of his paranoid state and wanting to continue on with their date, she tells him he’s overreacting, “Come on dude, your dad’s happy, you’re probably just not over what happened to your mom” taken aback by this comment from his girlfriend, he stops the car suddenly and appears to gather himself, presumably thinking about what has transpired during his time away from home “Did she miss me? Did she regret sending me away from my home, my family?

 

While on my way home, my phone ringing with Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” in my pocket, my hands were freezing so I left them in my pocket and continued to walk because I doubted the call was important enough for me to risk being more uncomfortable knowing that I was a long way from heat the thought alone was killing me, after a long period of my pain distracting me from the call even though I wondered who was calling me, while I was thinking, my phone stopped ringing my suffering just began, the wind smacked my face, harder than a furious parent causing tears to roll down my slowly causing more pain, In order to get home, waited patiently for about twenty minutes looking for the bus, once I noticed that there were about 20 people at the bus stop, since there was a delay, my mind told me that I wouldn’t make it home using that route unless the buses came back to back, rather than walking a few blocks for the trolley I continued to wait because my stubborn ways took over the motive to get out of the frigid weather, although I knew that I should call my mother or brother,  they didn’t want me to go out that night, as soon as I would decide to dial her number it would be no going back to avoid her long speech that would prove me wrong and  since I wanted to be right like everyone always wants to be whether they know they are wrong or not  when I saw someone step into the street and smile I knew the bus was coming, I made the executive decision to reach into my other pocket and check my phone which shockingly turned out to be a text from my brother saying “Do you want a ride home?”