Still waiting for the Copyright Office to call me or email me or send me a certificate through the mail. I seriously don’t get it. What’s taking them so long to approve of the sequel? 😦 It’s one application with 6 or 10 steps (or pages) in a packet. I thought this was supposed to be a simple and easy process, not a 100 page submission form.
I’m so disappointed with their services. I’ve had to print out copies at the UPS store (not once, but twice). I spent $309.76 just to get the sequel printed out and shipped next day delivery. They better not have lost those manuscripts. How many copies do you need? You’ve got the electronic copy and now 2 copies of the final manuscript with 356 pages each, that’s 712 pages in all? What more do these people want from me?
I couldn’t even send them the paperback books, because it would’ve taken too long and I have a limited time to respond back to them. Grant it, they give you 30 days, but I didn’t want to worry about it for a whole month with this new job and then do training. I didn’t know if I’d be staying in the same freaking state. Due to the holidays, it would’ve taken two weeks for Createspace to print them out and then ship them out to my house, especially so close to the holidays. Yeah, it would’ve been cheaper, but what happens if they got lost in transit? It does happen…
Anyway, the Copyright Office and The Library of Congress are extremely slow with their responses. Please God, can someone notify me about the status of my application. This is ridiculous… almost a year or more I’ve had to wait, folks. 8 months is the fastest response time. WTF?!
So I have the entire day all to myself to think or pout. That’s the only good thing so far. I guess…
I’ll be trying to do something…maybe some writing that I’ve been putting off like forever. How many weeks or months has it been now?
I can’t even remember.
I’m going to leave two teaser chapters for you. One of these chapters happens to be really dark (actually both of them are), but I have no idea where to place them. These might still have some grammatical errors, so please bear with me. They are copyrighted by the way, no matter what happens at the Copyright Office.
Stephan pushed open the large doors of a crumbling Catholic church; dressed in all white, he took his time and strolled down the aisles. The church had been burnt down many years ago and fragments of that tragic day lingered among the leaning structures and ripped tapestry. Stephan’s suit seemed to almost glow in the dark.
He eyed the statue of the fallen Jesus with much interest, but his nose picked up the scent of something foul. He quietly looked around, exploring the old building. No one heard his footsteps––he didn’t make a sound. Stealth was his mission. Stephan’s white shoes stepped beside an altar and some candles on the ground. Someone was living here.
Stephan came across a homeless man, sleeping on the floor; he covered his nose, smelling the stench on his clothes. The elderly man rose from his bed and saw Stephan just standing there.
“Who are you? What you want?” asked the old man.
Stephan knelt down and tilted his head. His face was stone-cold, showing only a blank expression.
“I’m the Angel of Death,” he whispered in the man’s ear.
CHAPTER 13… WHO KNOWS?
It was nighttime when I found myself standing off the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere. Staring down at my feet, I could only see a patch of green before me. There was hardly any color in this grayish world of mine. The sensation of wet grass tickled my toes. I looked over and saw Lathyrus sitting on the sidewalk, all by himself.
He was drenched to the bone and shivering from the cold…as if he’d been out here in the rain. Time seemed to stand still for me as I watched beads of water ripple slowly from nearby tree branches. As I blinked and squinted my eyes, I realized it hadn’t stopped raining. Each drop of rain had frozen in the air, almost as if they were suspended—like time had slowed down. The droplets were still in their watery state, and yet I couldn’t feel them on my bare skin.
It’s as if I’m not even here… I thought.
I was invisible to Lathyrus and not effected by the surrounding sphere nor the sudden climate change. But nothing made any sense in this place. How could I feel the grass beneath my feet then? Why can I not reach out and touch anything?
I tried to approach Lathyrus, but I couldn’t move––I found it difficult to even lift one leg. The air outside was suffocating, choking me. Whatever Lathyrus was going through at this moment made it hard to find my actual bearings. The emotional turmoil going on inside his head weighed me down more so. As if my feet were chained to an anchor, keeping me at bay. I couldn’t talk to him either, no matter how loud I spoke.
His head was down and his dreadlocks covered his entire face. He was just a child, and I wondered how old he must’ve been in this timeline. He looked like he might’ve been ten.
Am I in a memory? Is this part of his childhood?
It wasn’t like I had a map. Where did I need go exactly? I wished there was a simpler process, a guideline to see which memory I was going into. Kind of felt as though I shouldn’t be here, prying inside his self-consciousness or his brain. Feeling confused as to which side I was really on, I noticed a few fireflies around the area. To me, it was a bit disturbing, since I hadn’t noticed them during the rainstorm.
Never had I seen fireflies in Florida. Not even in New Jersey. Where did they suddenly come from? Did they emerge from out of the grass? They didn’t look like bugs at all, just a glowing speck of light. They calmly floated in front of me; the dots of light seemed to swarm around Lathyrus constantly. But he didn’t seem to notice them or care.
One of them landed on my right shoulder; I glanced at it still fluttering its delicate wings. The immense weight on my shoulders lifted, and I was able to move once again. I fell to the ground on my knees and hands. The firefly that released me from my burden, flew away and went on ahead. My instincts told me that I had to follow it. And so, I did. The forest wasn’t too far behind me.
The firefly drifted toward a door in the center of the field; it had materialized from the mist, which slithered along my feet as it crept slowly into the swamp. At first, the door looked like any ordinary object. Nothing stood out about it, except I knew it didn’t belong here. There wasn’t anything special or particular about it. It was a dark, crimson color. It seemed to be oozing a black substance along the corner as if it had recently been painted on.
Is this blood?
I studied it and touched the dark matter. Scratches were all over it. Something evil and hideous may very well be lurking behind this plain looking door. What kind of animal made these claw marks? Examining the strange indentations, I quickly glanced back at the ten year-old Lathyrus, gazing downward at the road. A man with long hair and dressed in a black suit stepped forward––was that Rue? He was carrying a rainbow colored umbrella and talking to Lathyrus.
Then, Rue offered up his hand to Lathyrus. I still couldn’t go near them, for some reason or another, and before I knew it, more fireflies besieged me. They landed on my hair, my shoulders, and my skin. I cautiously peered over and took a peek from behind the door. Saw nothing out of the unusual.
I walked around it a couple of times while swatting at the tiny balls of light. Why wouldn’t they leave me alone? They seemed harmless enough. At least they didn’t bite me. How could this door remain in place? I tried to push it down, but it was stuck. It wouldn’t even budge.
What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and watch?
Did Lathyrus want me to enter through this doorway? Did he know I was right here, standing across from him? Why couldn’t he see me at the corner of his eye? One of the fireflies, burning the brightest, landed on the doorknob. It crawled all over and then squeezed itself through the keyhole.
Bending over, I saw light emanating from where it had just entered. The gap was so low to the ground that I knelt down to take a peek for myself, and yet I couldn’t see anything. It was so bright. I tried to turn the knob with my hand, but it was locked. I sighed, seeing nothing of interest. Low and behold, as soon as I rose to my feet I found myself not outside anymore. I was now in between a dimly lit hallway, viewing thousands upon thousands of doors. They were on the ceilings and even on the floors.
Surprised that I was somewhere unknown, I backed away from that one crimson door, and tried to find another way out. Eventually, the more I walked forward the scenery wouldn’t change. That crimson colored door followed me wherever I went. I discovered that there really was no way to escape. I was in an endless hall of never ending doors. What exactly were behind all of them? Were they portals to somewhere? To the unknown? To Lathyrus’ memories?
Maybe these were his secrets. Dreams? Nightmares? This was another side of Lathyrus I hadn’t seen before. In a dimension of sorts, I decided to stop wasting my precious energy wandering around. I walked to the crimson door, stopped, and took a deep breath. Bending over, I peeked inside the keyhole, curious as to what I might find on the other side.