Fear, death and life - personal Blog

When I was younger I used to enjoy slasher movies and teen murder films like Scream or I know what you did last summer. Generally they never scared me, the one that did was Final destination where Death itself would stalk those who had dodged a disaster do that it could balance the books.

It wasn't the movie or the the manner the characters were killed but the personification of Death itself. The same is true for the Sixth sense and the idea of death and hauntings.

I'm an atheist, have been since I was a kid for various different reasons and one of the side effects is that death becomes final. There is no after life, no heaven, when this roller coaster ends it is literally the end and everything comes to an end and that is TERRIFYING.

At my Grandfather's funeral, the priest, a close family friend asked:

Peter read many books, amassed a vast amount of knowledge but where has it all gone? It has gone with him and is lost.

Suddenly it all seems futile.

To be honest, part of me is in panic just writing this.

So, moving on...

On Boxing day my other Grandfather was picked up by the Police in Asda in a very confused state. My sister had said she'd spoken to him the day before and had said he was sounding confused and a little out of it, but nothing prepares you for the call from the Police.

It is strange, I never thought it would happen to him. Grandad has always been as sharp as a tack. He got out of his military service early through a loophole, wangled a great job that paid him near enough triple wages and taught himself trigonometry! Even at the ripe age of 91 he knew what was what.

I guess all the time on his own has started to tell on him, my Nan died some five years ago. He tries to get out and about still and my Mum sees him every week. I, don't see him often, or 'phone him as often as I should. Modern life and the pressures of family and job eat up so much of my time...

This morning I was going to visit him and give my sister my prognosis and it caused me great concern. I realised that before Death there is old age. I'd love to be a grandparent, I want to be fun and wise like mine were but I never really thought of the frailty that comes with it.

Pop fell on bad knees and contracted pneumonia and was dead in a week. Nanny suffered from Dementia that slowly killed her and robbed her of herself over many years.

Either the body fails the mind or your mind the body.

I don't want to be a mere shadow of myself trapped in a physical or mental Bastille. Sounds selfish I guess but it is the beginning of a fear manifesting itself.

None of us can really foretell the future, I could be struck by a 182 bus tomorrow or die in my bed at the age of 120 having just written my third PHD thesis.

Like Death, it is just another thing I shouldn't think about it or worry. Life is, after all, a journey and it is better to concentrate on the road directly in front of you than on the horizon.

As the song says;

why worry because worrying is as effective at solving a problem as chewing bubble gum

Monday trains

Through darkness we stare at the countryside.
The crisp cold of winter touching our faces,
The lucky few huddled around a heater,
Others slumped on the floor under their coats.

Why? Why? Why? Someone shouts in vexation.
There is always someone who cracks up first,
Most of us have seen this countless times before and since.

Anger buried by years of the same slog,
Fatigue and weariness blur our senses
This I'd truly the journey of the damned
Another delayed Southeastern train ride

A moment of introspection

The Sims 3 introduced a solid "life aim" for players to achieve for their Sims. Some want business success, others want to find love, others want a large family and that got me thinking.

My wife has achieved her goal. She'd always wanted marriage, mortgage and babies. At 27 she has what she wanted.

At 32, however, I'm still wandering. I've kind of gone from plan A to Plan B and now I'm on Plan C +1 and like a clump of dislodged Kelp I'm drifting in the tide.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family and although they weren't originally in my plan I'm grateful that they're here.

Plan A was to go into Marine Biology but my grades weren't good enough so I fell back on History. Plan B was to go all the way and do a PHD in History but I stumbled during my Masters and after spending about twenty years studying I had had enough. I still regret not finishing it.

Plan C was to "Wait and see" and after moving back to Medway and getting a job I hoped to use past experience and qualifications to go far - it's not happened so plan C +1 is in action - drift.

I have no real Political ambitions beyond Medway and then that is often curtailed by other draws on my time, like work and family. My options for progression at work is dependent on a lot of people either leaving, retiring or suddenly ceasing to be. Also to be honest, I'm not enjoying it anyway.

I'd thought about trying to get back into Marine Biology but I'm a little too old and i'd have a decade on everyone else employment wise. Also there is a distinct lack of money!

I still day dream of the teenage wish to head out into the wilds of Canada, see Mount Logan, walk from Skagway to Alaska but at the moment it is unlikely to happen. Instead my wanderlust is sated wandering London or Medway and planning a hike around Boxley & Aylesford and adding places to my foursquare wish list.

I'm trying to write more, I have ideas but run out of steam. I must finish Into the Dark and see if I can get it published for Kindle, after all, of the four aspiring writers from Uni, I'm still the only one unpublished.

Still, having a life goal can be overrated as the listless wanderers have more experiences and fun - as long as you can look yourself in the eye in the mirror and say "I'm happy"

Sacrifice - A short narrative

I lay staring up at the blue sky, the gentle sunlight caressing my face, the soft breeze ruffling the feathery mane that topped the hard black leather helmet. I took a deep breath and grabbed at the hole in my breast as the pain shot through my chest, as I pulled my riding gloves away I saw them coated in a thick viscous layer of red blood. My blood.

I could hear the crackling cackle of musketry further down the valley but no more was aimed at me. My horse was gone and I was laying here dying in this field. Maybe someone would find me and take me to a field hospital or kill and rob me. Who knew?

I tried to crane my head up to look up the hill to where my fellows would be mounted and surveying this battle. Just a short time ago I was up there with them, ready to repulse either of the two embattled armies who decided to take the high ground from us. We'd taken this town in a vicious long running battle that ran street to street, house to house and even room to room.

As the bulk of our forces battled to maintain the roads and quash any stragglers a group of us young bucks were mounted and moved to the ridge to watch the river valley. There we had watched the blue flags moving up the river whilst the red banners moved out of the next town to meet them.

It had been a beautiful sight, columns of blue uniforms, the rumble of kettle drums, the whistling of fifes as they moved up the river valley. When battle was joined the two opposing armies locked their pikes and the muskets spewed smoke and death into the opposing ranks.

We watched, a neutral and distant force, as shot, steel and iron poured into soft flesh. We watched them fall. We watched them die.

The opposing commanders were suddenly locked in combat as the command detachments blundered into each other. I silently urged the blue commander to finish this. Though we stood on opposing sides I had the utmost respect for her ability and her conduct in this war rather than the scarlet wearing opportunist who fought through deception and ambush.

Then it happened, my heart jumped to my throat as I saw her fall from her saddle and crash to the swaying grass. I turned to my friend who sat next to me. He didn't flinch.

I tried to turn back to face the storm but kept finding my eyes drawn inescapably towards that duel as if nothing else was happening on that field.

Suddenly it all became clear. Nothing else mattered, not the two armies, not the distance to ride, not my comrades. What would they say when they found out what had happened to me? What would our Commander say?

That I had been a fool? For what else is a hero but a successful fool?

I put my spurs to horse and urged her down into that valley. With the song of drawing steel and the glimmer of light that kissed the blade I drew my sabre and plunged forward towards the duel, my eyes locked on the blue jacket that was pulling itself up to continue the fight.

Despite the seeming leagues distance I'd cleared it in moments urging my horse over fences and a small stream in great bounds. I would arrive soon and my silver sabre would parry a blow and reposte into the chest of the offender.

I didn't see who fired the shot, nor did I hear it. All I felt was the searing heat and pain as the bullet passed through my gold uniform and out the other side. The warmth of my life's blood spread across my chest and suddenly I was falling towards the soft valley floor which rushed to embrace me.

It had seemed like the logical thing to do, the right thing to do but I hadn't even made it to the battle that raged below. My sacrifice would go unnoticed.

I found myself laughing to myself as I thought about what I'd done, what I'd sacrificed and the level of my failure.

I looked up at the sky one last time and smiled. It was a beautiful place to die and die I did.

Into the Dark (segment)

Jane felt her mind clearing from the fog of sleep, her aching wounded body felt fresh and warm as if waking from a dream in her bunk.

She tried to take stock of her surroundings and why her mouth and nose felt funny, like they were covered by an unknown hand that still allowed her to breathe. She openned her eyes and as the pink sticky liquid filled them she began to realise her fate and terror rose through her with the accompanying scream.

She thrashed around naked in her glass cell screaming into her oxygen mask banging her fists against the sides in blind panic. The sight of row upon row of cylinders similarly filled with sleeping clones of herself suspended in the pink nutrient goo, only increased her need and desire to escape. This had to be a nightmare!

A silhouetted figure of one of those creatures stood in the doorway regarding her. She stopped banging the glass as the terror slipped away .

"Please... Please, let me out... I know you can hear me... Please... I just want to go home."

"You'll get home soon Lieutenant." The Alien's voice wrapped "You will all get home sooner than you think."

Then, the figure turned away and closed the metal door with a secure metallic clunk plunging Jane and the clones, into the dark.

Into the dark...

Ok, please be gentle. Its the first thing I've written in a Loooonnnngggg time and it is still very much work in progress.

As Princess Irulan said in Dune; A beginning is a very fragile thing and I'm hoping this isn't too bad a start... do let me know.

Chapter One

The door swung open quietly, so quietly that Lieutenant Jane Briarwood didn’t even hear it. The Endeavourhad been in space for over four months on a deep survey mission and Jane had been staring at readouts for most of it. As a junior archaeologist she’d had the honour of being assigned to this vessel mainly because she believed no one else had wanted to go and had more clout than her.

“Ah, Lieutenant Briarwood.” The voice of her nominal superiorCommander Devonshire derailed her train of thought with its usual annoyingdrone. “Are you busy?”

“Is there anything I can say that will convince you that I am?” she thought.

“Good.” He didn’t even give her a chance to  reply. “The equipment needs to be checked onagain. Make sure it is all fully functional.”

Jane rolled her eyes and closed them shut in frustration.Every other day Devonshire came in and would send her to check again. She used to argue but it was a fruitless exercise and it was a drain on the shipsatmosphere recycler. For four months they had travelled, for four months they had seen nothing but the cold black starry vacuum of space. Four months of deepscans, and long range probe reports and dehydrated food. The equipment hadn’tleft the packing crate let alone the stasis chambers. Captain Kinnock kept assuring the survey staff in fortnightly meetings that they were on course and that they should find a planet soon but she’d ceased to believe that after the first month.

She’d spent most of her days running simulations and reading, hoping beyond hope that something interesting was coming up around the corner but again, she’d given up on that too. It had become a waiting game. How long until the Captain would admit the inevitable and turn the ship around or how long until they actually found something?

She had left the confines of her meagre office on quite a fewoccasions, other than to go and check the blasted equipment. On constant laps around the ship in the early hours for exercise or a post shift drink in the mess where she actually got to socialise with real human beings. At first some of the men had hit on her but after a few clumsy approaches, some of her wittiest put downs and the intervention of Mr Miles, the ship’s Second Officer she was safe to sit and chat with the others. Although the fleet had a good mix of men and women some how this ship had ended up with a majority male crew and had she been inclined she could have any number of suitors especially now as the fourth long month dragged on but she preferred to keep her own company.

She had been so immersed in her renewed reminiscing that shehadn’t even noticed that she was already half way to the Access control room.She liked the guys down there. Like her they spent hours locked up in a roomwatching cameras and computer screens. They were all joyfully eccentric and they were used her regular visits, in fact they seemed to look forward to it. Acouple of them had an obvious crush on her to, they would fight to get to the front door every time for a glimmer of conversation and a hint of a smile.Truth be told, she found them all very funny.

As she approached and swiped her access card she could hear the clamour within and the muffled argument.

“You spoke to her last time, it’s my turn.”
“Get out of my way old man.”

She wondered who would win.

“Hi Jane, what can I do you for?” Jack had won this time.The young man with freckles and reddish tint to his blonde hair was the usualone to win but only because Boris was older and his reaction speed was just slow enough that the younger man could beat him.

She favoured him with a broad grin. “Same as always, key card 106 and an escort to hold 8”

“Comin’ right up.” He grinned broadly and disappeared intothe office again.

She started to wander down the corridor towards the stasisholds, it felt like she’d been here everyday. She had counted the tiles on the floor waiting for her escort one day and now knew how many steps it took to get to bay 8, to pass the time she counted steps until her escort arrived.

“Seven, eight, nine,ten…”

“Another service check?” Jack came down the corridor, the soft jangling of keys in his hand and an overly joyful tone of voice for what was one of the most mundane jobs on the ship.

“Yes, Commander Devonshire is very particular about his equipment.” She nodded trying not to let the her boredom spoil his good humour.

“He knows that sitting in the stasis nothing will happen to it and only you and I have keys to it so no one else can get to it right?”

The look she gave him wold have withered flowers at threeyards and required no further conversation. Jack looked sheepishly at her and then hurried past to slip the keys in the lock and turned them. She took a step forward and withdrew her battered key card and went to swipe it in the oh sofamiliar lock.

“Lieutenant Briarwood, can you report to the forwardobservation post.”

“What now?” she thought with a touch of annoyance but with an awful lot of relief at not having to check that blasted equipment again. She slung an apologetic glance at Jack and turned to leave.

“I’ll see you later Jane.” Was the last thing she heard before disappearing into the lift back to the habitat and admin section of the ship.

Endeavour wasn’t the largest ship she had ever served on, eighteen decks, two hundred metres long with another hundred for the engine module and a crew of about seventy-five, all of whom she had met at one point on this tirelessly long voyage. Most were involved in the day to day running of the ship, its engineering team, small security detail, bridge crew and victualing staff topped up with mission specialists like herself. Though it was a tight knit group of people it was also a little claustrophobic at times but it suited her better than the large battle ships like Phaeton or Kraken both of whom were almost two kilometres with crew compliments in their thousands where she would disappear into the sea of faces and was known to no one outside of her section and even then mostly all she got from her colleagues was a half nod in passing in the corridor.

She had been glad to escape Kraken and happy with her assignment to the station at DremerdiusVII where she had her own office and space and could sit and write papers,maybe go out on a dig twice a year to the Dremerdius IV and its flowing blue rivers and hazy meadows that swam through the Methane atmosphere. Still all good things had to come to an end and the passing of Endeavour and the lack of willing archaelogists saw her get plucked from the comforts of home and thrust into this boredom. Still, it acted as a catalyst for her to think about her life and evaluate whether she truly wanted to carry on down this course, something she had spent a lot of time thinking about on this voyage. Dremerdius had been a mistake, a holding pattern but it had become comfortable and the norm for four years of her life and now that shereally thought about it she realised that she wasn’t happy there or here.Especially here.

Rhaegar & Lyanna