Kitanya the Blood Lotus is straight 92 Octane. Pure fire, action, intrigue, sexiness, a thrill from start to finish.
Kitanya the Blood Lotus coming to your LCS Fall 2020
Kitanya the Blood Lotus is straight 92 Octane. Pure fire, action, intrigue, sexiness, a thrill from start to finish.
Kitanya the Blood Lotus coming to your LCS Fall 2020
I’m in a mood today. I’m stressed. Tired. Overwhelmed. All I want is you repeating “It’ll all be okay, baby girl.” Your voice has become my favorite lullaby.
Every since I was a little girl my mommy gave my sister and I gifts on valentine’s day. She always wanted to make sure we felt special and loved, especially on that day. She taught us the importance of not waiting for a significant other to make you feel special. Do things for yourself and family and that always stuck with me. So every valentine’s day, single or not, I make it a habit to make sure I am doing something for me.
This valentine’s day, I would love to be wrapped up in a special someone’s arms but im not. Instead I went to work were I was surprised with a performance from a comedian and motivational speaker. This helped me confirm some of my callings in life and reflect on my toxic controlling behaviors ( long story). I got out of work early, cooked a nice dinner, masturbated 2x, took a nap, went to the gym, and cleaned up. What an awesome valentine’s day.
Here’s to self care days, reflecting, and romancing your damn self.
The cover to my first comic book, Kitanya the Blood Lotus, starring the eponymous character.
Created by Alex K Lacey
Penciled and Inked by Casey Chapman
Colored by Eugene Betivu
Red is too grown, too grown for a girl my age.
I am not old enough to understand the ripeness, the crimson temptation that seems to crackle in the air.
No red on the lips. Only grown-up ladies wear that.
On me, it is an invitation to bleed.
Juices that gush and drip onto the chin.
I wear blood on my clothing, as if I am a warning.
Red is a warning.
Day 12 of Black History Month and I’m honoring one of my favorite Authors Sharon M. Draper. She is an American children’s writer, professional educator, and the 1997 National Teacher of the Year. She is a five-time winner of the Coretta Scott King Award for books about the young and adolescent African-American experience. She is known for her Hazelwood and Jericho series, Copper Sun, Double Dutch, Out of My Mind and Romiette and Julio.
Yesterday I was mad at you. Absolutely pissed. So I told you I needed my space. You gave that to me. You made sure to tell me you loved me before I went to sleep. You are always ready to squash things before they even start up. You asked me what things you could work on internally so that this would last. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I am so blessed and grateful. I will not allow another night in which I go to sleep angry to come and go. The next 24 hours are not promised but my love for you is.
Note: I wrote this to draw awareness to people like me. People with BPD. My thoughts somewhat mirror those of the reader in this fix and I decided to write about how it feels going into a relationship with mental illness. It’s not something you should be afraid or ashamed of. It’s not something you need to hide, espically if you’re black or another POC. As a black woman, our mental health is often overlooked, but in 2020…fuck that. Our mental health is important. Your mental health is important.
You are not your thoughts. You deserve to be seen, you deserve to be acknowledged.
You matter too.
Warnings: self doubt, talks of borderline personality disorder… I’m not sure how to word this just proceed with caution I suppose. I wrote this one faster than the others, please enjoy.
Today had been a really tough day. I wanted to grab my phone and tell him born to come but I knew that I couldn’t. He needed to know, he deserved to. I paced my office back and fourth shaking my hands out nervously.
“Y/N, everything is gonna be fine. He won’t freak out. He loves you.” I say taking a seat at my desk.
But what if he didn’t love me enough to stay.
I shake away the bad thought and sit at my desk waiting for his arrival.
What if he already knows and he doesn’t come. What if he found out and is coming to leave you.
You’re not that pretty anyway. What if he meets a model on the way in and favors her.
But that would never happen. Harry is a good man he wouldn’t do that to me.
As if you’re worth his kindness. Dating you was a charity case, he could never love a nappy headed girl like you.
You’re never gonna be good enough for him.
He’s gonna leave you.
He doesn’t really want you.
He doesn’t love you.
“Stop!” I shout slamming my hand on my desk loudly spooking my assistant who had been standing at my door. Oh, dear.
“Uh… yes, Lauryn?” I ask .
“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Styles is here to see you.” The young girl nervously says.
“Right, send him in.” I say standing to my feet. “And I apologize for the incident.” She nods stepping back allowing Harry to walk into my office before excusing herself closing the door behind herself.
“Hello darling.” Harry says walking in giving me a kiss on my cheek. “ How is my favorite girl doing today?”
“Fine for the most part.” I say clearing my throat. “A little under the weather.”
“Ohh, button, are you feeling okay? A fever maybe, That why you asked me over?” He asks putting a hand on top of my forehead.
“N-no.” I mumble moving away from his touch. “I called you over to talk, I know you’re busy so I’ll be quick.”
Harry pauses looking down on me with confusion written all over his face. “Button, what’s this all about?”
“Let’s just… sit, okay?” I say bringing him over to the couch in the room. “There’s something we really need to talk about.”
“Is it… about us?” Harry asks taking my hands in his. I nod.
“More me than the two of us.” I tell clearing my throat again. “I’ve been looking for a way to tell you this for a while now and it-it’s not exactly going to be easy.”
“Please let me talk.” I plea looking deeply into his eyes. Mine filled with desperation and sadness. He nods and I continue. “I’ve been dealing with something I’ve known since I was about 19 years old and I wanted so badly to share it with you but, I was afraid. I want to know before I tell you this I love you.” I rant.
“Y/N What is going on?” He asks not having any clue where I was going with this.
“Harry… I have a disorder called Borderline Personality Disorder- or BPD for short. Now I know how it sounds but It’s not like I have different people in my head, it’s very different from thay. It’s not an exactly something you can pinpoint to one cause but to stems from some form of childhood trauma. It can make you angry, sad, irritable, reckless, or depressed… it can make you really, really hate yourself. But I’m working on it. And I knew I needed to tell you when I realized I was in love with you and you loved me back and…” I bite my lip as I begin tearing up. “I realized you’d be stuck with me. And I wouldn’t want me around that much. I get it if you want to leave me but-”
“I could never leave you.” Harry says making my teary eyes snap back up to him.
“W-what?” I croak out.
“When you sat me down on this couch I thought you were going to break up with me. I was getting ready to fight for you. When you told me you had BPD, I was almost relieved. Scared but settled. I don’t care that sometimes you could have an off day.” He tells me
“It’s not sometimes though. This is my everyday life, I will always be like this, Harry.” I tell him trying to get him to see the downside of it all.
“And I don’t care about that. If this thing is a part of you, but you said that working on it, I’ll help you work on it too.” Harry says kissing my knuckles before gently rubbing his thumb across them.
“But why would you want to?” I mumble.
“Because never be worth giving up on to me, Y/N.” Harry says smiling at me softly.
“You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Never. We’re gonna deal with this together.”
I move into his lap kissing him before wrapping my arms around his neck to hug him tightly. “I love you.”
“I love you, so much, button.” Harry says kissing my temple. “More than you could ever know.”
Happy Monday!!! Here’s an update on what’s been going on with me. I"m still working on sharing some of the downsides like illness and pitfalls in weight loss so bear with me. We ALL have them, believe me! 🤦🏽♀️
Make sure to pre-order my new book, Natural Hair For Beginners. You can get the paperback now here: https://amzn.to/38Lge7O and order from Kindle (kindle will be available 2/18) here: https://amzn.to/36oyqmt
We even offer the book in Large print here: https://amzn.to/2O9jdPK
I’m hoping all are having a great week and working on every goal that brings you happiness and prosperity!! 💐💐
It feels good to be confident in your path. To be prepared without having had prepared. To be aware but so uninformed. To be ready yet so scared.
It feels good to know that I’m a little more aware of who I was, who I am, and who I’m working my ass off to be become.
It feels so good to work. To work so hard that it becomes play. That it becomes enjoyable. That it becomes…you.
It feels so good to finally begin to be able to communicate who you want you to be.
I know it’s going to feel good to become me, the you you’ll see.
There was this thing that happened every time I got drunk. One, I was overtly confident. And two, I was overtly sexual. I would flirt with literally everyone without a lick of shame, but not just that. I would take it to the next level. And to be honest, I was kind of a perv.
“I. Am. A. Goddess.” I slur checking out my reflection in the window. I adjust my breasts so they’d look even better and smirk. Oh yes.
“Y/N please.” Harry groans making me cheer.
“Harry! When did you get here?” I smile going over to hug him.
“I picked you up from the club remember? You called me.” He sighs, recalling picking up the girl from the street.
“Oh, yeah!” I remember. “I know that was a yell, but you could make that a scream tonight.” I poorly wink at my longtime friend. I had always found Harry incredibly sexy. And mixing hidden attraction with booze could only make for a disaster.
“How many did you have ?” He asks making me blink in confusion.
“Um…” I think. “How ever many a bottle of vodka is. Don’t- don’t worry, I shared.” I giggle.
“Okay, I was right. Shower, food, then bedtime.” Harry says attempting to pull me along.
“Ooh, assertive. I like.” I laugh smacking his ass.
“Y/N!” He yells picking me up bridal style.
“Even better!” I cheer as he walks me out of the bathroom. “I hope you have condoms, buddy. If not, it’s okay, I have the implant.”
“We’re not having sex.” Harry grumbles walking out of the bathroom.
“Why not?” I pout.
“Because you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” He says returning with two towels. “Take these and wash up.”
“Only if you get in with me.” I smirk biting my lip.
“Y/N.” He warns making my pout for the second time.
“Fine.” I sigh turning to face away from him lifting my hair. “Unzip me.”
He unzips the dress and I step out of it turning back to him. “You’re no fun.”
“You’ll thank me in the morning.” He hums closing the bathroom door behind himself. I let out a huff turning on the shower to warm it up but climb in while it was still cold to sober myself up a bit like Harry said.
I like Harry he was like a big protective older brother. I think making myself frown. I didn’t want to think of Harry as a brother. I shake my head blinking. What did that mean? I wonder sighing as the water got hotter. I opened Harry’s favorite soap squeezing some into my wash cloth and inhaled deeply. He always smelled like this. It felt warm and homey. He felt homey. I think with a grin. I loved home. I love Harry.
Wait, I love Harry?! I gasp slipping onto the tip floor with a shout.
“Y/N?” Harry calls knocking on the door a few seconds later. “Are you okay in there? I heard a scream.”
“I-I’m fine.” I stutter sitting up. I was still far too drunk to deal with those thoughts.
“Okay, dinner is almost ready. It’ll be done by the time you get out.” He says behind the thick wood door.
“Okay.” I hum nervously.
Love? Was I in love with Harry? Sure, I loved him, he was my best friend but in love? Maybe it wasn’t want I meant.
“Oh, my hair.” I frown realizing my hair got soaked in the slip. I just got it done.
I sigh turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. I squeeze out my hair and wrap the howl around my body walking out into the hall.
I make my way to the kitchen to see Harry taking something out of the oven. Garlic bread.
“Oh, you’re all done.” He says looking at me dripping body wrapped in the short towel.
“I suppose you need something to sleep in?” He hums turning off the oven and glancing at me. I nod silently. “Alright, come on.” He says gripping my hand and pulling me towards his bedroom.
“What’s got you all quiet?” Harry asks looking over his shoulder as he dug through his dresser. I shrug silently looking down at my feet.
“Must be sobering up, feeling alright? Not woozy are you, love?” He says making me internally sigh in contempt. He was always so gentle with me and patient. He took care of me. Maybe I did love him.
“M'fine.” I mumble taking the clothes from his hands.
“Okay. I’m gonna go make you a plate. Get dressed okay?” He says kissing my temple.
“Okay.” I say looking town at the t-shirt and boxers. I let out a puff of air. Okay, you can be normal around him. You can have dinner with him, and then when you’re sober you won’t feel confused anymore. You’ll realize it was alcohol talking.
After I dry myself off I moisturize my body before I pull the t-shirt over my head and pulling on the boxers and a pair of socks, wrapping the towel around my curling hair. I open the door to see Harry sitting on the couch turning on Netflix.
“What are you doing?” I ask approaching him on the couch.
“I thought we could watch a movie while we eat.” He says gesturing to the plates of spaghetti and garlic bread. I sit down next to him grabbing the plate. “Just how you like it. It’s left overs from yesterday but I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
“Do you have-” I start as he hands me a bottle of franks. “Thank you.” I smile opening the bottle.
“The spice should sober you up if the shower didn’t.” He adds turning on a random Rom-com.
“Probably.” I nod stuffing my face. Oh my god food was so good right now. And he even added cheese and sausage the way my mom always did. He knew me so well.
After watching a third of the film Harry pipes up.
“Oh, before I forget again.” He adds handing me a hair tie from off his wrist. “For your hair.”
I pull the towel off my head letting my coily locks fall, my hands hitting my forehead softly.. I chuckle pulling the mass of hair into a puff atop of my head. “Thank you, Harry. For…” I trail off waving my hand around. “All this.”
“No problem Y/N. You know I love you.” He says making my heart flutter and break all at once.
I do love him. I wasn’t drunk anymore. I loved him.
“I um…” I say standing go my feet. “I should go to bed. It’s late.” I say looking over to the clock that read passed 2:00AM.
“Okay, yeah. G'night.” Harry hums clicking off the TV, pulling the blanket from under his coffee table.
“Night.” I hum walking over to his room. I climb into his bed snuggling myself under the blankets shutting my eyes to go to sleep. But nothing ever came.
I laid in bed for two hours trying to fall asleep, but nothing. At home I slept in bed with my dog and an abundance of pillows on a full sized. Harry on the other hand had a massive king sized bed. And on top of that, my head was riddled with too many thoughts. He took care of me, he always took care of me. He wasted a Friday night on making sure I ate dinner and got to bed. He was the only man who ever cared for me this much. I huff sitting up. I need a glass of water. I pad over to the kitchen opening the fridge and pulling out the water jug.
“Shit!” I jump clutching the Brita to my chest. “Harry, you scared me.”
“I heard you in here, was just making sure you were okay.” he says taking the water from me and grabbing a glass. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“It’s okay.” I nod watching him pour the water through the dim lighting of the kitchen. He hands the glass back to me and i gladly take it. “Thanks.” I mumble taking a sip.
“what’s keeping you awake?” He asks leaning against the counter.
“Too lonely.” I answer with mild honesty.
“I could sleep with you, If you’d like?” He suggests. I choke on my water a bit feeling my face warm.
“Uh… yeah, sure.” I nod setting down the glass. I shuffle back over to his room with Harry in tow. I glance up climbing under the blankets alongside him.
“Better?” He asked laying his head on the pillow.
“Yeah.” I mutter watching him close his eyes.“Harry?”
“Yeah?” He hums quickly falling asleep.
“I’m not drunk anymore.” I tell him.
“I know…” He softly replies breathing heavily. He was far too gone. Nearly asleep.
“I love you.” I mutter snuggling into the pillow further.
Moments later he rolls over cuddling me to his chest surprising me slightly. I smile fondly. Nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasts. My eyes flutter closed and I finally fall asleep.
I whine when the sun peaks through the window waking me. The blinding light wakes me making it impossible for me to get back to bed. I groan looking up to see Harry still fast asleep holding me tight. I grin. He looked so peaceful when he slept.
“I can feel you watching.” He rasps making me quickly pull myself away.
“Don’t do that!” I squeal with a pout.
“S'okay. I was holding ya pretty tight.” he replies.
“Its fine. I wasn’t that scared anyway.” I mumble looking anywhere but at him.
“Feeling any better?” He ask sitting up next to me.
“A lot, thank you.” I smile at him.
“Do you remember what happened last night?” he ask making me squint.
“Uh… kinda. I don’t remember anything before i got here though.” I say trying to recall the events of last night.
“Before I came to get you you left me a voicemail… I didn’t want to show it to you until you were sober.” He says pulling his phone from off of the nightstand.
“What kind of voicemail?” I ask already feeling embarrassed.
“There was actually about multiple messages and three voicemails.” he says handing over his phone.
“Oh god.” I groan taking the phone from his hand.
I wosh you cane out with us tpnight
this vofka tast like camdy
ita to hot i wany to go oytside
whete am i
I see foood
“Okay, not so bad.” I mumble moving on from the texts and onto the voicemails.
Harry, I’m kinda…lost. It was so hot in the club and i went walking and…I think I- ooohh i see a McDonalds! I’m gonna get McChicken Do you want-
“Oh my god I was drunk in a McDonalds?” I question turning to him.
“Keep listening.” he says pointing to the phone. I sigh playing the next voicemail.
McDonalds was a bust. It was closed. Can you believe that! S'only eleven! I wanted my meal. I’m boycotting! I’m gonna call someone I- Oh my god i see the club again!
“Equally as bad.” i hum moving on to the last voicemail.
I’m alone again. Can you come get me? Um… I’m on J…jefferson street I think? I’m sorry, I’m being so annoying right now. I just trust you to get me cause I love you so much. Oh my god I wasn’t suppose to tell you that-
I gasp dropping the phone on the bed and moving away quickly like it was on fire. My eyes flicker up to Harry then back to the phone.
I nearly had forgotten. Drunk Y/N was a ticking truth-bomb.
“I should… I have to go.” I say running out of the room. I look on the coffee table for my things before quickly moving onto the island by the kitchen.
“Y/N?” Harry sighs standing a few feet away from me. “We need to talk about this?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I mumble passing him to check the bathroom.
“But there is.” He huffs watching me look on the floor for my purse. He groans walking out of the room and comes back holding the red bag in his hands. I internally sigh standing to my feet.
“Thanks.” I mutter reaching for the bag, he only moves the bag away denying me of it.
“Talk first, bag later.” He says looking down at me.
“Harry, please. Please don’t make me talk about this.” I plea closing my eyes when I feel that familiar burn in my nose. Rejection. The heart stinging, soul crushing feeling of rejection.
“Okay’ I’ll talk then.” He says making me turn away. “Y/N…”
“Just say it.” I sniffle.
“I’d prefer to say it to your face.” he says attempting to get me to look at him. I shake my head no. So he could see me cry? Hell no.
“Y/N don’t be so fucking stubborn.” he grits out.
“Why do you wanna see me when you say you don’t feel the same way?” I yell turning back to face him. Hot tears staining my cheeks as I blinked through my blurry vision.
“You think i would want to hurt you like that?” Harry asked, his voice sounding genuinely pained to hear that.
“No, I- I don’t want to see you when you say it.” I whimper wiping my face of the tears.
“I love you.” He says. I look up in confusion.
“W-what?” I stutter in shock.
“If that’s not what you wanted to hear then I’m sorry but, I love you too.” he says taking s step closer to me. I back away not trusting what I was hearing.
“No you don’t.”
“And why not?” He asks stepping closer again. “Why couldn’t I have realized how much I loved you months ago when you went out of your way to get me a rare copy of my favorite book for my birthday, hm?”
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” I ask.
“Because I felt just like you felt now. Confused, scared, I didn’t know whether you were gonna reject me or stop talking to me. I didn’t want to lose you.” he mumbles dropping the purse and pulling me in for a hug.
“You love me too?” i say pressed against his chest.
“So much.” he whispers looking into my eyes as he caressed my cheeks lightly in his hands. His thumbs lightly wiping away stray tears.
“I love you too.” I say pushing my lips against his. Warmth spread throughout my entire chest making my heart sing. He loved me back, I didn’t have to hide away from these feelings because there was nothing to hide from, Harry loved me too.
“M'sorry I made you cry.” he says softly chuckling.
“I’m sorry I tried to run.” I giggle.
“S'okay.” he says nuzzling his head on top of mine. “Come on, let’s order a pizza and watch a movie.”
“Or, we can go out to the movies? Like a proper date?” I suggest hopefully.
Harry laughs giving me an award winning smile. “There is nothing I’d love more.”
It was 9:45am one summer morning. I could smell the faint fragrance of my husband’s Triumphant cologne. “Mmm, hubby’s home!” i said to myself with a smile. I sat up in our California King bed and took down my messy bun. “Babe?!” i called to the bathroom, as i heard the shower running. no answer. “DeMario!” I yelled. Still no answer! I stood up and adjusted myself into my rose colored, satin nightgown. As I walked towards our master bathroom, a sudden wave of coldness went down my spine. “Babe, you there?” I asked in a worried tone. The bathroom door is locked. Great. I began banging on the door.
“DeMario! Chauncey DeMario Elliott!” Dammit! Why can’t he hear me? I ran and grabbed the bench from to foot of our bed, pushed it to the bathroom door, and stood on it. I reached up and grabbed the key from the door frame and finally i opened the door. “Oh my God!, DeMario!” I cried out. “No, no, no, no, no!” I cried. I’m panicking! I turned off the water. He was passed out, fully clothed, and he was barely breathing. “Baby what did you do?!” I asked as i turned him over and opened his shirt. “Phone! i need my phone!” I ran back into the bedroom and grabbed it off of the nightstand. I called 911.
“911 my name’s April what’s your emergency?” she said
“Hello! I-I I’m Regina Elliott and my husband’s passed out!”
“Can you explain what happened Mrs Elliott?”
“I walked into the bathroom, and my husband is passed out in the shower fully clothed!”
“What’s his name Mrs. Elliott?”
“Chauncey Elliott! Please send an ambulance!”
“What’s your address?”
“2832 Old Ryder Blvd! Please hurry, he’s barely breathing!”
“Yes ma’am, the paramedics are 3 minutes away. Can you feel a pulse?”
I carefully placed two fingers on his neck. “Yes, it’s strong!”
“Great! Any signs of of distress or self inflicted injuries?”
I scrambled around the bathroom, looking for any evidence. “Yes, there’s an empty pill bottle on the sink! Oh God no!”
“Ok ma'am, whats listed on the label?”
“Um, oxy- oxycodone 30mg! DeMario why baby?!” i was so distraught and panicky.
“Ok, I’ll need for you to attempt to get him to vomit. Can you stick your fingers down his throat and wiggle them until he vomits?” she asked.
“Yes I can. Come on baby! please!”
I vigorously massaged the back of his throat praying for a miracle. After what felt like forever, he vomited what looked like 30 pills and began coughing.
“He’s awake! He threw up a bunch of pills! Praise God!” I cried.
“Excellent! have him drink water until help arrives.” April instructed.
“Ok, thank you so much!” I said.
“DeMario, what happened baby?” I asked him while holding his head in my lap. Tears streamed down my caramel face as I kissed his forehead. “Baby, why didn’t you let me die?” he asked in a disappointed tone. I just sat in silence. “Come on, lets get up. let me get you some water.” I hurried downstairs, covered in vomit and tears. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottled water as the doorbell rang. “finally!” I thought. I opened the French doors. “Mrs. Elliott?” asked one of the EMTs. “Yes, he’s upstairs. Follow me.” I said as I motioned them to come inside. DeMario was sitting on the toilet with his head in his hands. “Babe. Drink this.” I instructed as i handed the water bottle to him.“You should’ve just let me die.” he repeated once more before opening and taking a sip.
His eyes never left mine. He has a certain look he does but only if we had a really bad argument, which was very rare. This was a different look. i didn’t recognize it. “OK Mr. Elliot, let’s check your vitals. Open wide for me.” What happened to us DeMario? What’s going on in your head baby? I thought. I thought we were so happy. He takes care of me and I take care of him as well. I’m a housewife so my work is never done, but he never said anything out of the ordinary. My body felt so numb, almost like I wasn’t really there. Kind of like a nightmare that you can’t wake up from. He has never looked at me so cold before. Just when you think you know who you’re sleeping next to. Happy Anniversary to you too DeMario.
Ajalise watched total darkness and its lack of distinction between heaven and earth from her window. They drove through the desert, careful to avoid where villages may be, or hideouts of known militia. Night came and was nearly on its way out once they reached the point Ajalise gave them. A car was waiting there for her as she requested.
“This is a mile out. Give me an hour. I might be able to sneak in and make discoveries of my own.”
“We will arrive at the appointed time,” the elder said.
“I need to get some things,” she said.
The man that sat next to her removed her suitcase from the back. She traded her hard-bottom combat boots for a softer soled variety. She found her other set of knives and strapped them to her legs. The man handed her a handgun. She tucked it in her waistband.
“Be careful, child,” the elder said.
She only gave him a slight nod as her response before she left them.
Ajalise got in the car and headed towards Ahm Shere. She could see Nasir in her mind in a billowing red robe fitted loosely around his otherwise quite western and cliché archaeologist white and khaki clothing. He was in the cult.
As she pulled up to the tents, Ajalise could tell her car didn’t alert anyone. Workers camped in the tunnels but even William had people take watch. It appeared that they did what they could to keep the entrance from being so obvious. She stepped out of the car and paused. The very ground pulsed, sending millennia of memories through her. The army of Anubis. The army of Medjai at war. The O’Connells, her great grandfather, all became clear in her mind. She looked down and realized she could sense the bracelet beneath her feet. In her mind, she could see the pyramid, the entrance directly below her.
Gathering her thoughts against the assaulting visions, she walked forward. The entrance led straight down. It was strange to smell wet earth in such a dry place. Two paths were distinctly marked at the bottom. She climbed down slowly, using the rope that was left behind as her support. She made her way to the bottom and followed the tunnel leading steeply down the side of the pyramid towards its entrance. The descent was quiet and intermittently lit by small bundles of glow sticks. The light at the end grew brighter. The smell of burning wood greeted her as she neared the final drop. She dropped down, but didn’t see anyone. The whole thing was definitely intact.
Ajalise checked her watch. Forty minutes left. She sent a message to the elder about what she saw and how to get in. The glow of her phone was the only light she used, unsure if anyone else may be inside. She moved forward. She could smell more wood burning as she approached the great scorpion statue affixed to the wall. The bracelet was inside and so was the least efficient way to lose an arm. She looked down the hall towards the great chamber. They had dug out the rubble that should have filled the room. They had definitely been here longer than she thought.
Walking through the only opening they were able to make in the large chamber; she noticed the dimmest of glow around the ditch they were clearly using to relocate the rubble. There was no way that they had only started digging recently. A glint of gold was clearly visible under one of the piles of rubble. She sighed. They hadn’t got to it yet. Strange murmurings were muffled as she neared the pile of rubble that was glowing the bottom. The warmth there was confirmation enough. She turned around to leave.
The familiar crawling noises of bugs in the walls caught her attention as she made her way towards the entrance. They hadn’t cleared the rocks from that path just yet but the flame throwers were all ready to go as were other crates and boxes of provisions that made the already narrow space even tighter to maneuver though. Twenty-five minutes left.
Ajalise walked back towards the entrance to climb out but she heard footsteps approach and crouched down by the large scorpion on the wall.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?,” Nasir said.
Ajalise stood up with a sigh. She was only surprised to see that he was alone. “Yeah. You know the bracelet is right there through that perfect arm sized hole.”
He laughed, “Yes, I am aware.”
“I thought everything got sucked into the pyramid.”
“That was mostly a bad description. Everything is quite intact but there are barriers. Blocked passages. The sounds of our scarab friends behind the walls.”
“Where’s William?,” asked as he walked closer to her.
“Not with me,” she said walking away from him, her back now facing the entrance.
“So what are you doing here?,” he asked.
“You really believe some mummy with powers is going to listen to you? Be the Brain to your Pinky?”
She sighed, “Never mind. This is just a bad idea.”
“We have no intention of raising anyone from the dead.”
“So, now what?”
“You might as well stay.”
One of his men approached her from behind a put a gun to her head. Ajalise put her hands up and followed them back into the chamber. More people were starting to come into the space and divided between where she saw the gold book and the wall with the scarab noises. She looked at her captor. He kept the gun on her, arm pointed straight.
“You’re really going to stand like that the entire time?” When he didn’t say anything she just laughed and leaned against the wall.
Can’t remember where I read this but, there was a reason writers gave most Black Heroes electric powers, away from racial bias. There have been articles and podcasts I’ve listened to over the years abour how damn near all comic characters were “black” colored white to sell, like with superman getting his powers from the sun. Dark skin makes sense in doing that. Electricity correlates with alkalinity. Often times, Black Performers, their energy shocked the crowd. Michael Jackson, his music charged you. Drums, that iconic beat, it makes you move, gives you power. Power. Early Comic book writers, were likely not racist and understood the power within the Black Community, but as I wrote this.. In my quest for knowledhe, in earlier days I followed Ankhs & Hoteps, so now idk… Just running my mouf, do what you want with this information.
A Woman Speaks by Audre Lorde
Moon marked and touched by sun
my magic is unwritten
but when the sea turns back
it will leave my shape behind.
I seek no favor
untouched by blood
unrelenting as the curse of love
permanent as my errors
or my pride
I do not mix
love with pity
nor hate with scorn
and if you would know me
look into the entrails of Uranus
where the restless oceans pound.
[…] I have been woman
for a long time
beware my smile
I am treacherous with old magic
and the noon’s new fury
with all your wide futures
and not white.
Are the fourth and tenth spring of the tree different?
If you look closely at the world, you notice one thing: the eternal beginning.
Again and again.