One Person

One person can change the world. Look at religion and how many people have influenced others. Or now-a-days, look at sports or movie stars (society has really fallen short these last fifty years when it comes to people to look up to). Who has influenced you? Who do you look up to? When asked this question, most people answer, their Mom or Dad. Out of all the people in the world, parents are the most influential. That being said, what kind of an example are we giving our children?

Back when Hesston was around a year and a half and really began to want my attention, I caught myself looking at my phone, reading, texting, checking Facebook, scanning Pinterest, you know, checking out all the stuff going on in the world, doing everything but engaging my son. He began to climb on my lap and watch me use my phone. Then he started trying to navigate the screens like I did. Of course, this was a no-no, and I tried to teach him to keep his hands off “my phone aka my lifeline,” but kids are sponges, and they do what we teach them to do, mostly by our example (our words and actions). It was no wonder he started reaching for my phone, wanting to play with it instead of his toys. That’s what I did.

I decided to put the phone down and just count how many times I reached for it within the next ten minutes. I thought it would be once or maybe twice. Within the first minute, I had reached for my phone three times. That’s three times more than I thought I would in the whole ten minutes. Within five minutes I had reached for it so many times that I’d lost count. And why? Because my mind wasn’t focused on the task in front of me. Because all I could think about was what I was missing while I sat there and watched my son play.

It was in that thought when my mind shifted, and I began to think about everything I was missing right in front of me: a life that I’d never get back, time I could never get back, time that was much more precious and important with my son than what was going on in the world. I was missing out on my son’s life. I was missing out on his childhood. I was missing out on being an active participant…his mother. I had failed. And I knew it.

Shocked, and a little numb by my realization, I put my phone away. I started to participate. It was hard at first. I kept catching myself yawning, feeling tired or bored. I had to consciously engage my mind in his playtime, or else I found myself reaching for the phone. But I kept choosing my son and our relationship over another Pinterest post, over another Facebook feed. I chose my son’s life over everything else, and that’s when we really became a family. I’m so thankful I did, because four years later, I find myself choosing him and his little brother, over and over again.

It’s hard, even still, I’m not going to lie. Because I’m social, I’m creative, I want to be a part of something more. But I need to do all that when the time is right. And I have determined that my relationship with my children is more important that other people right now. Because I feel like the role as a mother is more important than anything else. And I am so abundantly blessed to be a mom, who gets to stay at home. Why waste it? Why waste what so many other women wish they could have? 

I refuse to waste my time. And even though playing with my kids may seem like a waste of time some days, it is the single, greatest thing I can do, because I am telling them that they’re worth my time. That they’re important. That I love them. And they need that.

In a world where everyone tells you you’re not good enough, you’re stupid, you’re slow, you’re insignificant, I want to be the person in the back of my child’s head showing and telling him he’s incredible beyond imagination. That he can do anything he sets his mind too. That he can change the world. And I feel like I am changing the world, just by being a good mom, because I feel like it all starts at home, as simple as that sounds.

Motherhood is the most important role a woman can play. Is it any wonder that Satan tries to tear motherhood to pieces? Through the media? Through women’s rights? Through sexism? Through rape and pornography? No. It’s no surprise. Because as a mother, we literally have more power and influence on the world than anyone else. We make all the difference in our children’s lives. We determine whether they succeed or fail. As such, we determine whether the world succeeds or fails. What a great responsibility.

If children don’t feel love and security, what do they feel? And what kind of an affect will that have on them later in life? What kind of collective affect is that already having on our society? Our society is in an uproar because people have forgotten who they are. They’ve never been taught. People have never been taught why they’re here. They’ve never felt true love. They feel like they don’t belong. Hence, what do they do? They scramble around life, trying to figure out the most basic answers to these questions, and usually end up getting them wrong, because there’s nobody to guide them. No loving hand to direct their path. No kind words of reassurance when they fall down or make mistakes.

So I ask, what role do we have as mothers? A very important one. Important enough that it's hard to put into words. Why are we here? What is our mission, or role in this life? Do we even know the answer to those questions? If we don’t, how can we find them? How can we help our children know who they are and why they’re here?

As parents, we are the ultimate teachers. It’s a inordinate responsibility. How we use our time is how our children will use their time. We are their example. How can we do our best to be an example to our children? How can we do more than just the minimum? Do we wake up in the morning, turn on the TV and leave it on for most of the day? Do we use the television as a babysitter? Do we use the iPad, our phones, smart watches, as the new parent, the new teacher? Do we come home from work and sit down on the sofa and tune out? Do we open our laptops, our phones, and stare at the screen instead of at our children? What are we telling our children when we do this? What are we telling each other (as a couple)? Yes, I know that there will be hard days, and sometimes turning on the TV, or giving our children a device is the best option (so we don’t yell or get upset). But is that every day? All day?

I know this is probably an exaggeration, but it can turn into that. Just like it did with me, when I started counting how many times I reached for my phone within five minutes. And it started as an innocent gesture when Hesston was an infant. I would read as he nursed. Read as he slept in my arms. Read as he took a nap. And then it bloomed into needing to have it in front of my face all the time, without me even realizing it.

It is good to do these checks. It is good to take inventory of our lives. I love my phone and technology, so I’m not saying throw it away. I’m saying, use it in moderation. Because we, as moms, are determining not only the future of our children, but also the future of the world. Sure, they have their choices, but we’re the example. If they’ve seen us be on our phones/computers/watching TV, what choice do you think they’re going to make when they get home from college? When they get home from work? And think of all that extra time that they could be creating or doing something amazing. Doing something bigger than themselves. Changing the world.

Media is an escape. What are we trying to escape from? Are our lives really that boring, that mundane, that we can’t create our own adventure within them?

It’s also inspiration. Are we so inspired that we just need to keep getting more? More ideas, more words, more images? Is it the creativity inside us that’s crying to get out?

Use that creativity with your children. Teach them to foster and nurture their own. Have them write a story from their imagination, you’ll probably be surprised with what they have inside their head.

Have them sing a song that they make up-we call this “jamming out”.

Have them dance to one of their favorite tunes.

Have them draw a picture of the people they love.

Go outside and explore the world.

Build that block tower.

Race those play cars.

Play dress up.

Then when the day is done, and the littles are off dreaming of all the adventures you shared, create your own worlds on paper, or share someone else’s.

These young years may be hard, but they’re short. Too soon, you’ll have a whole day to yourself. Too soon you won’t have kids to pick up from school, practice, a friend’s house. Too soon, you’ll look back and ask yourself what you did in all those years. Did you waste it by being lost in other people’s lives? Or did you grab your life’s reins and take off? What memories are you going to hold onto when you’re older? What experiences will get you through the hard times? Create them now, so you can enjoy them both now and later. And the ones you create will last a lifetime and beyond. Isn’t that incentive enough?

Bare Minimum

Why do we only do the bare minimum? The essential? Why don’t we do more than just what is required of us? And why do we sometimes not even do that? Why is there a minimum? Do we naturally set lower expectations than what we’re capable of?

We have minimum wage. Minimum work requirements. Minimum hiring requirements. Minimum speed (that one doesn’t usually seem to be a problem, since most of us like to go fast). But you get my drift. We contribute the minimum and feel like we’ve done a job well-done. When in reality, we’ve done just enough.

My question is why?

Why do we let ourselves fall short? Why do we allow our lives, our potential to be wasted? Are we really that far from deity that we can’t remember why we’re here? What we are capable of? What our potential is? Are we just too lazy? Or are we too busy?

As I look back on my day, I see all the things I’ve gotten done. All the items I’ve checked off my to do list. But there are at least double the items I didn’t have on my list, and still got done. It’s only on my lazy days that I do the minimum, which I hate to admit, does come more often than I’d like. But why do I need to set a to do list in the first place? Can’t I just see what needs to be done, and then do it? Or am I so distracted that I can’t even see those things?

As I was getting up to take care of my sick infant, I thought about this phenomenon that we’ve limited ourselves to just doing the bare minimum when it comes to doing something that we either don’t really want to be doing, don’t enjoy, or feel like we have to do because it is required, either to survive, or to maintain a status of something we want.

For example, my husband and I have been married for 10 years. In those 10 years, we have established different parameters that we need to make ourselves and each other happy. For example: my husband likes it when I welcome him with a smile and hug when he gets home from work each day. Simple. Easy. And I like it when he is employed and supports our family. Simple. Easy. So you see, we have these base ideas, or requirements that seem like common sense, but can sometimes set the bar too low.

Now, my husband is amazing, and literally only requires sleep, some words of affirmation, and physical touch. And as for me, I feel like he does such a great job with providing for us, that he doesn’t need to do more. But because both of us love each other so much and want our relationship to not only survive, but to thrive, we go above and beyond what is required. Like, my husband doesn’t expect me to do dishes every day, but I do. My husband doesn’t expect a clean house, but I do (this is how I show him I love him-even though he really could care less…hmmm…makes me want to see how messy things could get. Just kidding). Ted comes home happy, ready to scoop up our boys in his arms and play. Everyone loves when daddy gets home, because daddy’s fresh. Daddy’s happy. He has energy. Usually by that time of day, mom has run around and played so much her tank is on empty, and there’s lots of clean up before the end of the day. But back to my point, why do we contribute more than just what is required to our relationship? Answer: because we want to it work, and we want it to thrive. So, why don’t we apply that same principle to the rest of our lives? And what if we did? Do you? And if you do, what kind of success do you see? How can we be more than just what is required of us? The bare minimum?

Hopeless

As I was watching the new Moana Disney movie with my 4 year old yesterday, I found myself crying. I cried at when the grandma died. When she came back as a stingray to guide her granddaughter, and then as a spirit to help her granddaughter achieve her purpose in life. It was quite the emotional day for me, and no, I don’t have to be pregnant to cry during Disney movies, I just love them. But as I was watching the movie, I kept thinking to myself:

-Wouldn’t that be nice to have that kind of inspiration?

-Wouldn’t that be nice to have that kind of help when life knocks you down?

-Wouldn’t that be nice to have someone there for you when you needed someone the most?

It was kind of depressing…thinking that nobody is there when I need them. So, I started to think of my life, and who has been there to pick me up, to help me through the hard times, to tell me that everything is going to be okay when I feel like it isn’t. Thankfully, I am surrounded by people who love and support me, most especially my husband. But there have been times when I had to go through a trial alone, without the help of friends of family. I had to fight my own demons. It was hard, lonely, but it was also a testimony of how strong I was on the inside. Under all the mush and gush, there really is a backbone.

Then, I realized I was never completely alone. Even though I felt alone, there was always someone waiting, just waiting for me to ask for help. And that person is Jesus Christ. I don’t have to fight demons by myself. That even though people around me can’t help sometimes, there’s always One who can. And that brought a deep peace and comfort to my soul. For, no matter what I’m going through, I know that someone has already went through the same pain, the same trial, the same temptation, and came out on the other side alive. Not only alive, but much better because of it. That knowledge gives me hope. Hope that no matter what trial I might face, I can and will be able to make it through. Someone’s always by my side, even if I can’t see Him. Our Heavenly Father loves us so much, He sent His Only Begotten Son, from His own side, to live and suffer through the atonement, so we can always have someone by our side.

The harder the trial, the closer we get to Christ, because we learn the pain He went through. We feel the aching, the longing, the loneliness. Then we feel the love, compassion, peace, and wholeness, as we remember Christ, and allow Him into our lives. John 3:16, For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. What an amazing blessing and promise. A promise that brings bright hope into a life of despair. What helps you through trials? What brings you peace?

It's Almost Here!

One of my stories is being featured in this inspiring book. Can't wait for next month!

http://www.100momsonejourney.com/

Choose an animal. Write about it.

The road is as black as the hair on my leg; hot, uncrossable. I place my right paw next to the heated yellow line, feel the burn through my skin, pull back. How am I supposed to get my family across this road without getting splattered onto the boiling pavement?

My babies jump behind me, their white lined tails high in the air. Their ebony eyes wide, the matching hair on their backs risen. The growl coming from the zooming engines scare them, make them almost impossible to contain. Not only does the sound send chills through the air, the smoky, choking and acidic smell, causes our muscles to tighten, our minds to jumble.

I listen to the growls, try to discern a break in their rhythmic churning. The ground vibrates under my feet as another one passes. The rush of wind slaps me in the face, sending me back into the huddled group of my babies. They squeal and scatter.

I motion for them to come back together, signal to move forward, onto the road. They follow with blind faith.

A loud blare booms through the valley. The sound frightens my babies, but I keep running forward, hoping they are as close behind. I can’t glance back and check, I must keep my eyes on the spot just ahead. If I don’t, the straight line I intended to make will become a zigzag, and more time on the road, means more time for death.  

A screech of rubber across asphalt. Wind rushing over, then pulling up and under, lifting my body with the power of its momentum. Peddles kick up and hit me in the side, causing instant pain. I command my body to keep moving, to keep going. If I keep going, so will my babies.

A shadow passes overhead, then sunlight returns. My eyes try to shift from the sudden change, but they’ve become blurry. I take a deep breath of air, smelling for grass to guide my way. But it’s overpowered by the smell of burned rubber and exhaust.

My babies bump into me, their tiny bleats of fear pushing me into action. I spur my muscles forward. After an agonizing, long second, my feet hit the soft grasses on the other side. My babies’ feet follow. I try to count their padding, but its drowned out by the pounding of my heart.

I quickly check them, make sure they’ve made it across. They have. We’ve made it, by some stroke of luck.

Taking the fastest path along the tree line, I direct my feet toward our destination: life giving water.

Can you guess which animal I am?

I Never Would've Married You if I'd Have Known...

I never would’ve married you if I’d have known…

He’s surrounded by all the beautiful people. The people I avoid. Too much judgement. Comparing. Gossip. Backstabbing. But I guess things are different when you’re the center of everyone’s universe. The hero of every story.

I tuck myself into the loft sofa with a book, pretending not to notice the overthrow of my sanctuary.

“We only need your home for a night. One night. We’ll be gone in the morning.” My overseer pleaded with me. “You won’t even know we’re there.”

Yeah right. How can twenty people, techs and alias alike, be so rowdy?

They’re clinking their champagne glasses together. Smiling. Mingling like they’re in the middle of a club, not my home. But I guess it’s easy to forget when you’re surrounded by this view. Not only is the cityscape of Phoenix framed in one-way glass, the whole house is made from it. And the furnishings are nicer than any club out there. Top of the line. Forget the fact that I have over ten bedrooms. Don’t ask me why I need them. I don’t. I’ve never used any, except for the one me and my robot, Lu, take up residence in.

Maybe that’s why they’ve come. To remind me that there’s more to life than just waiting for my next mission. Waiting for another hit. Another person to extract secrets from. Uncover the truth.

Of course, I can’t remember any of them. Their mind wipe keeps me free from conscience. I feel nothing. Nothing other than the urgency of the mission. Then the nothingness of accomplishment when it’s over.

“Want to join us?” My commander walks up to me. She’s tall, lithe. Like a midnight palm dancing on the slightest breeze.

“No thanks.” I lift the book in my hand. Its pages are worn, some with permanent creases where I’ve folded the pages over to hold my place.

She glances at it without really looking. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning, like I promised. Do you mind if I give Ronin your room for the night?”

I have a suspicion that she’s asking because she knows it’s the best bed in the house. The most comfortable. And she’ll probably be trying to spend the night in there with him.

I shake my head and wave her away. “I’ll probably spend the night out here anyway.”

“Thanks.” She smiles and walks away.

I have a sneaking suspicion she’s planned this. Planned the house, the furnishings, the luxury, so she could drop in with her associates whenever she wishes. The way she moves around the house makes it feel more like hers than mine, even though I’ve been here for as long as I can remember.

My eyes follow her path, colliding with beautiful eyes already staring in my direction. A spark ignites my soul. My jaw loosens as I realize it’s him, Ronin, looking at me. I hold his gaze, a keen look of interest flitting across his gaze. Then his brow furrows, like he’s trying to pull something from his memory. Good luck at that.

I turn my stare back out the window, away from the party. Away from the people who work alongside me, but don’t know me. 

My robot is in sleep mode. Curled up on the sofa like a cat. Another night alone. Another night cuddled up with my only friend.

I sigh and try to shove the feeling of emptiness from my chest. It wiggles its way back in. Why do I feel like something’s missing? Like I’ve lost something or someone. The mind wipe takes away the memories. But it doesn’t take away my feelings. Lost. Love lost. A yearning for little ones in my arms. But that’s impossible. I’ve been with the firm forever. Children were never mine. And a husband…my mind blanks, but my chest expands with an emotion so large, tears fall from my eyelashes.

I glance back at the people standing in my oversized kitchen, flowing into the dining room. There he is. His back is turned to me as he converses with my commander, Nicole. I wonder if that’s her real name. She doesn’t look like a Nicole. But none of us really believe our names and histories anyway. We can be changed, molded into what they want us to be. And that’s okay with me. I’d rather be someone, than no one, and that’s how I feel at this moment. A nobody.

Ronin follows Nicole into my bedroom and a tweak of something stabs my heart.

I take a deep breath and push it away. No room for emotion. I have another mission to accomplish in two days. Another mission that takes me to the far north of our country. Into no-man’s land. A land where I can transform into anyone I want to be.

**************

I’m woken by the sound of soft footfalls on the bare tile floor.

My senses are instantly awake, my ears taking over in the darkness.

The even steps carry whoever is awake into the living room. A pause.

I remember that I’m not alone. That this isn’t an intruder, but probably someone getting up for a late-night snack.

I stretch and lift my arms high above my head as push out my legs. My body feels well rested, even though I couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours of sleep.

My mouth is paper dry, so I decide to join whoever is in my house.

I stumble my waking up muscles into the kitchen, startling the person standing in the middle of it.

A knife is next to my throat, a body corded with muscles I’d been admiring all night long holding me in place.

My body comes to full awareness. My sleep logged muscles tighten, ready to take down the threat. I lift my hand and slip the knife from Ronin’s fingers before he has a chance to slit my throat. Then I twist his arm, pulling it away from my torso. But in the middle of my twist, he somehow spins me, and pulls my body flush with his. But, how would he know that move? I’ve never tried it on anyone.

“It’s you.” He whispers into my hair.

With my arm pinned behind my back, chests pressed together, hearts pumping side by side, body heat mixing, my world tilts and memories fall into place.

We’ve been here before. Not just before. But before. Before we came to this place. To the agency we now work for.

His hands release my arm, my body, and come up to frame my face. “It’s you.” He murmurs again.

His voice pierces my heart, and I feel right. Whole. The emptiness chased away by the sound.

His lips touch mine in a soft embrace. A long-lost caress I didn’t realize was missing until he reminded me.

Once I respond, which feels like the most natural thing, his hands find my hair. The kiss unties a cord that’s locked away the memories of us. Together. In love.

Love. That’s the feeling I’ve been missing. The hollowness in my chest.

I pull back and stare up into his eyes. Even though it’s dark, the shape, the frame of lashes, the light and passion for life behind them are familiar to me. How many times have I considered those eyes? How many times have I fallen for them?

We collapse onto the floor and remember. Remember each other. Remember the love we shared. And share new love. Love that feels so right that my chest bursts from the overwhelming rightness of it all.

He’s soft, gentle. And even though it feels like the first time as he reassures and compliments me, I know we’ve been here before. The way his hands move, his body, how we work together in perfect harmony. This. This is what I’ve been missing. It’s not something you can make up. Or read about in a novel. This is real. This is love. This is what life is all about. And I’ve found it. Remembered it.

He wraps his arms around me, holding on tight. “Where have you been?”

“Here.” I reply, not daring to close my eyes and make this a dream.

He shakes his head. “I’ve had glimpses of a past. Memories that they can’t quite wipe away. They say my mind is too strong. Too stubborn. So they’ve stopped wiping the memories.”

“You mean, you don’t get swept after your missions?”

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t need to anymore. It’s all filed away. I can still focus, even without the wipe. But you. I’ve been trying to find you since the beginning.” He brings his lips to the top of my head and tucks me under his chin. His body is hot, sweaty. I breath in the familiar smell. He lets out a small breath. “It’s crazy, because laying in your bedroom, I could sense you everywhere. Your smell. The way you organize. Your picture. It was all too familiar. But I couldn’t quite figure it all out until you were in my arms.” He presses his cheek to my forehead. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting go.”

As good as those words sound, I know we can’t be together. Not really. “I’m assigned a task in a couple days. I have to fulfill my duties.”

After a long pause, he nods. “Go. Fulfill the job. But come back to me. While you’re gone, I will do some digging.”

I kiss him. A long, slow kiss. A promise to return.

*****************

Lu and I have the place locked down. There’s nobody left on the jobsite. Only towering cables and a drill rig that casts the late afternoon shadows miles into the distant rolling hills.

I scour the place for evidence of foul play. A man died here. A man that shouldn’t have. A man who held valuable information that could alter the future of the oil industry. And a wealthy company wants to find out who put an end to him.

A slight breeze pulls at my shirt. The humidity has stuck the material to my skin.

“We need to search the shack.” I tell Lu. His robotic legs have him turning in the direction of the trailer before I have a chance to take a step.

I like having him for an assistant. He’s quick, efficient, silent.

The skid shack door creaks as it opens. I shut it behind me and go to work.

The filing cabinets are well ordered and it doesn’t take me long before I find the incident report. It’s detailed, but not to my liking. There’s more information than what’s written here. I find the name of the safety man on the report and do a search on my database. His profile pops up with a phone number. Perfect.

A couple hours later, I’m walking into a hole in the wall café in Keene, North Dakota. There’s a handful of red dirt covered pickups in the gravel lot out front, that match their owners on the inside. I look completely out of place. They know it. I know it. Good thing I left Lu in sleep mode in the back seat of my rental. Nothing says “Out of Town” like a robot.

I try to be as inconspicuous as possible. But they eye me like they’ve never seen a woman before.

I slide into a creaky chair placed by a table in the back. The safety man said he’d be here in thirty. I’m ten minutes early. But I had to check the perimeter. The premises look secure, but who knows.

The front door shoves open and Ronin steps inside. My heart is in my throat before I have a chance to move.

He’s in black. Pure black. Like he wants to blend in. But he should’ve chosen plaid and grease stained work jeans. The oversight on his part shows a lack of consideration. Or he’s in too big of a hurry to notice.

Ronin places a hand on my arm and pulls. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

“But I’m supposed to meet…”

“Now.” He interrupts.

I see the fear in his eyes, the urgency in his voice, and comply.

The customers’ gazes follow our path out the door. They’re probably wondering what just happened in their small town. The scene won’t be of any benefit to my investigation. We probably just sent the word out that someone’s on their turf, sniffing around, and sent the guilty running for cover.

Once outside, he steers me toward an armored SUV. The annoyance comes out of my voice. “Where did you get that?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He replies and opens the door. “Get in.”

He slides into the driver’s seat and shoves the vehicle into gear. Rocks make popping noises against the metal as they spray away from the spinning tires. “Where we going? I have Lu back in the rental.”

“I did some digging.” He doesn’t answer my question.

“So?” I reply, putting my hand on the dash to keep myself from falling over as he turns a corner.

“We’re married.” The words sound wooden. An echo of time simplified.

“Married?” I push the word out.

“There’s more.” He says, speeding down a dirt road. “We have kids. Two boys.”

My stomach spills onto the floor boards. “What? How?”

A smirk crosses his face. “You know how.”

I shake my head. “How can you be joking at a moment like this?”

A huge explosion yanks the SUV to the side. He corrects the wheels as I twist to see a drone not twenty yards away, sending shots at our tail.

“Take the wheel.” He instructs as he rolls down the window, pulls a gun from his pocket, and fires.

It takes a few shots, but he finally gets in a shot, plummeting the drone into the badlands soil.

“Why are they after us?”

“Because we’re not supposed to know about who we are.”

I blink away the realization that I’m sitting next to my husband, running for our lives. The life we just found. Trying to hold onto something we just discovered.

“So now what?”

He takes a deep breath, his muscled arms flexing as he steers the SUV down a ravine. He glances around. “This should keep us covered for a bit. But we have to ditch it.” He smiles. “No pun intended.”

I roll my eyes. “What are you proposing?”

“Well, I’ve already proposed, and you’ve said yes. But this time, we run.” He says as he turns to face me. His eyes are full of life. He pulls me into his lap and kisses me like he’s a man who’s seen the sun for the first time.

“But why?” I ask as I pull back, resting our foreheads together. “Won’t the agency let us work side by side?”

He shakes his head. “They don’t allow married people to work together, especially not married people with kids. We’d be distracted. Sloppy. Try to protect each other. Get killed. You name it. Besides, I’m their best agent. You’re their best investigator. They don’t want to lose us. If we go back, they’ll wipe both our memories so clean we won’t even remember our real names.”

“And yet, you cracked this case, not me.”

He smiles. “That’s only because they’ve been too easy on me, not wiping my memories like they should’ve. They’ve come back.”

“You remember?”

He nods.

“What are our kids like? Where are they?”

His smile is warmer than the sun in the sky. He winds his fingers through my hair. “They’re perfect. Just like you.” He pauses, gives me a gentle kiss. His compliment warms my fear-chilled skin. “We’ll find them. Wherever they are.”

“Did you find their location?”

He closes his eyes for a moment before he opens them. Runs a hand through his hair. “The last known location. We’ll head there first. But right now, we need to get out of here. They’ll find our SUV soon.”

“They sent a drone after us. They’re trying to kill us.”

He opens the door and slides the both of us out. “Not kill us, just slow us down so they can catch us. If they wanted to kill us, we’d be dead right now.” He takes my hand and pulls me away from the SUV.

“But what about my case? The murder? Lu?”

He gives me a sad grimace. “I’m afraid we’ll have to leave them behind. Even Lu could become an issue. After all, how do you think they keep such good tabs on you and collect the information you uncover the moment you find it? Besides, Lu isn’t human, Bryn. At any moment, they could pull the trigger and you’d be dead.”

“You mean, Lu is a weapon too?”

He nods and the understanding hits me like a crater from the universe, yanked to the earth by gravity, creating a hole so big it shatters my world.

“They could’ve killed me. Anytime they wanted.”

“They still could, if they feel like you’ve become too big of a problem.”

I shake my head to clear the unwanted thoughts. “I never would have married you if I’d have known you were an agent.”

His eyes crinkle at the edges as he swings me into his arms. “And I never would have married you if I’d have known you’d be the best investigator on the planet. Did you know that every agency across the globe has tried to recruit you? That’s why they sweep your mind every time you finish a case.”

“Really?”

He places a hand on my cheek. I lean into his touch. “If only you knew how amazing you are.”

“And you.” I reply, trying to dodge the compliment. “Let’s use those amazing skills to find our kids.”

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. The fact that he’s here, ready to get to tackle the impossible, says enough.

He places a tender kiss on my forehead. “To getting our lives back.”

Sticky: Imagine a situation that's very sticky (ie: maple syrup or tape or glue)- and write about it

Drip. Drip. Drip.
I'm lulled awake by the sound.
Drip. Drip.
What is that?
Drip. Drip.
I'm aware of the smell first. Earthy rich. Like warmed soil beneath my fingertips. I want to dig my hands into the aroma. Taste the deliciousness of it.
I'm lying down. Face up. But it's too dark to make out any surroundings. I wonder if I am back in the underground room. But why would that horrible creature of a man bring me back there? There's nothing but mud and moss.
My fingers sink into a thick fur that's stretched out beneath me. It's warm to the touch. I revel in the softness. It's can't be the skins of a normal animal. Their fur is much too coarse. But this, this is something I could bask in forever.
My tongue is dry as I open my mouth and try to swallow. I need water. Cool, moist water. Is that what the dripping noise is? And if it is water, where can I find it?
I blink open my eyes. They're as dry as my mouth, and tiny pieces of salt grate against my lids. The sting burns my eyes and I roll to my side. It's in that movement I realize I'm naked. I gasp and grab for the fur, pulling it up to cover me. To my horror, it's stuck, somehow attached to whatever cushion is beneath. I tug at it to no avail.
Fine. Nudity it is. Not like anyone can see me in this black abyss anyway.
"Hello?" My voice is even more hoarse than it was the last time I spoke. I didn't know that was possible, sounding like a pinched frog.
Humidity washes over me. A fine sheen of moisture clings to my bare skin. A faint touch of air tickles my nose.
I take a deep breath and hold it. Listening. Waiting. The drip is my only answer.
As I swing my legs over the side of the raised makeshift bed, my feet connect with a dirt packed floor. I move them side to side, checking for holes or sharp objects. Nothing assaults me. I risk the standing position.
My limbs are numb. Shaky. They tingle as circulation pounds through my veins, bringing them back to life. I feel like I've died. Been drug behind a horse for days. Bruised. Broken. Held together by pins and needles. 
I wish I could see.
Shapes start to become discernible in the darkness. I squint and rub at my eyes. There. A table pushed against the side of the...dirt? Is that a dirt wall? I truly am stuck back in that room. My body shivers with the thought. But wait. This room is different. Larger. The rounded ceiling higher, carved with large wooden roots entwined overhead. And there, a hollowed spot where some recently burned logs are turned to ash. A small flue opens above it. That must be where the air movement is coming from. And there, on top of the table that has two chairs seated on opposite sides of it, a bucket. The dripping noise is coming from that direction. It has to be water.
My legs propel me forward. My thirst driving me like a drunken lunatic toward the bucket.
As I tip the bucket back, I realize the color is all wrong for water. Instead of clear, it's brown. Like rust. But it's too late to pull back now. The contents flush over my mouth and down my chest as I barely close my lips before the sticky liquid gets inside.
I drop the bucket. It makes a loud clang as the handle hits against the metal side and bounces away.
I wipe at my face. The brown muck doesn't want to come off. It's sticks like honey to my skin. Now the stickiness is all over my arms, my hands, and tangled in my hair.
I stop and hold my arms out, taking a few deep breaths. I must look like a scarecrow. Though it's not a post that holds my back in position. Maybe a risen corpse, standing there with my arms held out, my shoulders hunched forward.
I stare down at my body. Long streaks of whatever carve dirty rivers down my skin. Now what?
Another glance around the room. A wooden doorway is on the opposite wall. Do I chance getting out of here? Or stay put?
Since I have no idea where I am, who I am with, because clearly, someone has been with me, note the lack of clothes, I should probably either find that person, or get the heck out of here.
I stumble toward the door. Another object catches my eyes. It's a long mirror. It appears to have a latch on the side. Like a door.
I brush my fingers against my leg to try and dislodge the goo as best as I can. It proves to be much worse that I thought. The goo is drying and starting to get hard.
The mirror opens with a creak. A wardrobe is behind it. Full of long dresses in muted tones that match the landscape of an autumn forest. The material is heavily woven, made for durability. And some of the pieces have very fine stitching. I notice a strange looking belt hanging from one of the pegs. It's elegant with some sort of fine gems attached to it, enough to pin a person down to earth.
I relatch the door before beginning to hobble toward door. It is indeed, a hobble now. For my skin is held in a crusted shell. It feels like my skin is being pulled away from my muscle. Uncomfortable, but not unbearable.
I cup my hands around my breasts for some semblance of modesty in the darkness and continue on my way. The crunch and crinkle of my movements against the dried glue the only sound in the darkness.
By the time I reach the door, the back of my neck prickles. The feeling that comes with being watched.
I spin and collide with a solid wall. How did that get there?
It takes me a moment to realize that wall is actually a man. Towering over me.
My jaw drops, making a popping noise as the glue cracks.
"What are you doing?" The man's voice is curious, amused. His eyes fall south of mine.
I lurch toward him to attack, my goo ridden skin making all sorts of noise as I shift under it. Some breaks off in bits and falls to the ground, others suck at my skin and tear off hair. I register the surprise in his eyes before we connect.
The impact catches him off guard and he stumbles backward. My fingers jam into his hair as I grab and get ready to snap his neck if he does anything against my will. My legs now wrap around his arms, pinning them to his sides. My face, inches above his as I tip his head back to look at me. A lesser man would've fallen, but he somehow caught his balance, and he now stands with me attached to him. Literally.
My breathing is heavy from the sudden onslaught of adrenaline. I can't believe I caught him so easily. Usually my face tells of my plans before I act on them. I must be getting even better at my attacks.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?"
His eyes. They're his eyes. The man I'm bonded to. A glacial calculation held within.
"Shouldn't I be asking the questions?" He lifts an eyebrow. It's annoying and I tighten my grip in his hair, pulling a few strands from the scalp.
He tries to lift his hands as if in surrender, but I don't loosen my grip, only clamp down harder. My muscles are cramping from the sudden effort, but I tell them to shut up and obey.
"Why?"
"Because this is my hideout. And you're the one who's in my care."
"Yeah because you knocked me out, then stole my clothes. How do you think I feel waking up with nothing on, and a mouth as dry as a desert?"
He tries for a shrug. "Must've been pretty bad from the looks of it."
I register that he's smirking. Looking at me like I'm some sort of wild animal he intends to kill slowly. That's not going to happen.
I move his head back further and to the side. A necklace encircles his neck. The chain falling beneath his shirt that's...heaven forbid...I realize I'm naked, and my bare breasts are pressed up against his ample pectorals, bubbling up like two rounded hills. If he were to look down, he'd come face first with...And my legs, wrapped around him like a rope, my nether regions flush against his abs. My legs tremble. What was I thinking? Stupid. Stupid girl.
He seems to read my mind. Curse my honest face. The realization must be written all over. He takes advantage of my pause, somehow yanking his arms from beneath my legs and grabbing my forearms. I have no doubt that he can break my hold. After all, he just broke my leg hold. But now he's the one hesitating, as if he knows that by pulling me off, he will be exposed to my full nakedness. But why should that affect him, if he's the one caring for me.
"Why am I naked?" The question pops out before I can reel it back in.
He tries to tip his head to the side, but my hands hold fast. So he squints like I'm a puzzle he can't solve. "Because you were filthy, and your clothes were covered in blood and sweat. Took me two days trying to clean them before I gave up and threw them into the fire. My sister, Annaleigh, rummaged up some clothes for you. They're in the wardrobe. You could've put them on, but I see you've dirtied yourself again." He pauses, considering. "Is this some sort of habit of yours?"
A growl grows in my throat. Two days? I've already lost two days. I have no idea where I am or how I can get back to my friends. I begin to chalk up a list in my head of questions that need answering, pronto. 
Now what? Should I unleash him? Tell him to close his eyes while I'm doing it? Yeah right...that's not at all cowardly. But if he hasn't hurt me yet, that means he won't hurt me, right? I shake my head, trying to come up with the right solution to my predicament.
I look down at his face, considering him. Does he look malicious? Should I fear him? Of course I should, he's knocked me out and taken me captive. I have no idea where I am. Who he is. Anything.
His fingers tighten on my arms and I stiffen. "Are we going to stay like this all day? Because if we are, I'd like to know now."
My cheeks warm. I know I'm blushing but I doubt he can see it under the brown mess.
"Not all day, but I'm not going to release you just yet."
A smile forms on his lips but doesn't quite open over his teeth. "You, release me?"
"I choose not to be offended by that statement." Even though in the back of my mind I know he's in charge. That at any moment he could tire of me clinging to him and break my hold. I'm grateful he's being merciful in his own way, letting me cover myself, even if it is with him.
He takes a few steps over to one of the chairs by the table and pulls it out before sitting. The position puts me in an even more precarious situation, since I am sitting on his lap now, naked.
He seems to sense the frustration fighting for release in my eyes, because he lets out a breath like a huff. "Ready to move yet?"
"Not quite." I grit my teeth. "Why am I here?"
"Because we're bonded."
"Bonded. What does that even mean?" I lessen my grip on his hair so he can look at me.
"It means, you stupid little fool, that you drank my blood and became connected to me."
"I did not drink your blood!"
"Drank. Gagged. Same thing. It doesn't matter what you call it. It only matters what you did. And you did, swallow. So now we are together."
"How can swallowing," I make sure to emphasize the swallowing part to show him my skepticism, "your blood make us connected? I've swallowed plenty of blood in my lifetime and never had this happen. What's different about you?"
"I'm not human. Despite what you think or see. And neither are you."
My brain rears back like he's slapped me. "Not human? Yeah right. I'm the most human you can find, right down to the core. Emotions, flesh, blood. All of it."
He nods. "Right."
"So what, am I some type of vampire?" I scoff at the impossibility. This man is off his rocker. "Or, oooo...let me guess...a werewolf. Rarrrr..."
He sneers at me. "You're not some unrealistic being that's never existed, nor ever will exist. Humans make up some dumb, senseless tales to frighten themselves. You've been an unlucky recipient of their stories."
"Uh huh. And so what does that make me?"
"Something you've never heard of, nor will you, from me. If you want to find out, you'll have to discover it on your own. It's not something you can be told. It's something you become through learning our ways."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Right. And that doesn't sound crazy at all now does it?"
"And this is why I promised myself I would never be bonded to anyone. Not in a million years. And somehow I get stuck with someone like you. Someone who will jump first and think second. You, with no imagination. Nor any sense."
My blood boils. My veins steaming from the inside out, making my body hot like lava. How can he claim to know me when we've just met? And if this is really the way he feels about me, then how could he accept a bond with me? Didn't he yell at me for stealing his blood from him? It's not like I want this. If I would've known smashing his nose was going to bring such a terrible fate, then I would've saved us both the trouble and let him kill me.
The man's complexion pales before he sucks in a breath. I smell the burning flesh before I see it. Red blisters pop and blood oozes down his shirt from where my skin connects with his. I'm burning. My skin, red. The sticky substance sizzling on my overheated skin.
I yank my body back, trying to get away from him, but my fingers somehow get caught in his hair and sizzle the ends.
I gasp, thinking of ice. Cold, cold ice. My skin freezes over. I can't move. Can't breathe. I'm freaking out, but there's nothing I can do. My body is literally frozen. Stuck in place. Attached to this monster beneath me.
"Alright! Calm this madness!" His voice pierces my shock. His hands run up and down my arms, my back, soothing. "You need to calm down. Take a deep breath. Think of something good. A happy memory. Anything."
I clamp my eyes closed and concentrate. My mind struggles to find a path through the iceblock that's lodged in my coherent thoughts. Happy memory. Something good.
Lila and me playing outside under the wide open sky. Not a cloud in sight. Only blue. Endless blue. The air, so calm and crisp in springtime. The newborn grass under my feet, painting the hillside green. A tiny tulips popping up, readying to open their faces to the sunshine. It's peaceful. There's no war. There's no pain. No loss. Just the two of us. Stuck in that moment. Content. Happy to be alive.
I hold onto the memory like a lifeline. It warms my skin again. Tingles run down my arms, all the way to my feet. I feel hot after being frozen. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it's just the adjustment from the severe cold.
"Good. Now, open your eyes."
I do as he administers. His blisters are gone. There's nothing but smooth skin peaking out from his holey, roasted clothes. How he heals himself is a mystery. One I would like to know.
He runs his hands over my face. My hair. Until suddenly his hands are stuck in the knot at the ends where the brown stickiness has captured him. He stares at his hand, then brings it closer to his face as if to sniff.
"What is this stuff?" He takes a deep breath. "Oh..."
I become aware of the heat radiating through his shirt. The way it warms my own body. How it makes me sort of breathless now that we're not fighting. And I realize I've pulled back, exposing my nakedness to him. He doesn't seem to notice or care, but I quickly cover myself as best I can.
There's a subtle dip in the middle of his top lip. And his full bottom lip is parted from the top from the last word he spoke. I'm mesmerized. I can't stop staring. It's like an invisible string is pulling me forward, urging me to take just one taste. What would he feel like? Like all the other boys I've kissed? Or something more? Like magic? Because I feel like there's some sort of magic going on here.
"What are you doing?" A female voice shakes me free from the trance. "Why are you out of bed already? You should be resting."
My gaze darts to the door where a tall woman with a braid over her shoulder is standing with her arms crossed.
Another man enters the room, leaning over the woman with an arm on the door frame. "Well darling, just take a look. It's not that hard to see. They've accepted the bond. Now she really can be everything, as he."
The woman shoots him a quizzical look before returning her gaze to us. "Huh. Doesn't look like that to me."
I don't know whether to move or stay. To correct his wrong assumption or not.
"Oh come on. You remember the way we were when we first bonded. Couldn't get enough of each other when we were left in a room alone. She's healed. Strong. Look at her. She's got him pinned, not the other way around."
"Then why is the bucket of mastic sap all over her and not him? And why is he still dressed? Well, kinda. What are those holes doing in his clothes? Do I even want to know?"
Don't these people have any revulsion to nudity? She says it as if it's just the time of day.
The man seems stumped at this revelation. He shrugs and pouts out his lower lip.
"Helam, explain." The woman is now staring at the man whose lap I am in.
I turn to question him. I want to know what just happened as much as she does. If not more. I became a beakon of fire. Then a block of ice. That can't be normal. Can it?
He's staring at me. At my eyes. Searching. Filled with their own questions. Instead of icy pools of death, they're warm summer skies. Cloudless. As if he can see me through eternity with their depths.
Again, I feel that pull. That yearning. It's deeper this time. Somewhere within my soul, not just my heart.
The room feels like it's holding its breath. So still that time doesn't dare move. Neither do I.
His hand slides up the back of my head. My hair goes with it, lifting and tangling into a bigger mess. He tips my head forward, angling it toward him. I'm so caught up in the moment, in his eyes that I barely feel his lips as they cover mine in a gentle caress. He stills for a moment, letting our skin warm against the embrace. My lips move to fit into the groove of his, the touch sending a ripple of energy through my skin, my muscles, the sinew that holds me together. Then he's pulling away, with a protest not only from my body, but also from the glue that wants to seal our lips together forever. His eyes hold mine. Still questioning. Beckoning.
"See, told you it's over. A sealed deal. They're off for eternity now." The man's voice is jovial.
"Ugh. That was a fast change for mister, 'I want to be alone for eternity.' You two can find us later." The woman sounds exasperated as she slams the door shut.
We're alone again. And the full awareness of our situation hits me again.
"Helam." I say his name, letting the word sink in.
"Jentry." He replies.
"How did you know my name?"
"Your friend. What was her name?" He pauses to remember. "Oh yeah, Remy. She shouted it as I knocked you out."
"Right before you stole me away to this hell hole?"
He smiles. The motion opens his lips over straight teeth. And his cheeks have deep parentheses plated in them. I stare, dumbfounded. Maybe I really am unimaginative, because I have never seen anyone so handsome in my life. I suddenly feel a strange urge to laugh. Or cry. Because what are the chances that I get caught up in this mess, and it is a mess, a huge one, where I can burn or freeze, and I can be bonded to someone like this? Whatever he is.
"Yes. Right before."
"Are you going to tell me where we are? Or maybe explain any of this?" I try to motion toward my body without releasing too much.
"With time."
And with that, he simply vanishes, leaving me straddling the chair, with the goo all over me, feeling hopeless and helpless. Completely incapable of navigating my life anymore.
The door opens again. This time the woman holds a towel and some soaps. "How about we get you washed up before supper?"