Yolanda A Jackson

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Chapter 1

THE SPOILED PRINCE

In the land of Mayfair, lived a king by the name of Alfred and his wife, Queen Jasline. King Alfred and Queen Jasline had two children, the oldest Prince Harry and his younger sister, Princess Cilla.

Prince Harry was a very happy little prince because you see Harry was very spoiled and rotten. Nobody, absolutely nobody was allowed to say ‘no’ to Prince Harry when he wanted something, or to punish him when he did something wrong or even to criticize him. Whatever Harry wanted to have, Harry had and whatever Harry wanted to do, Harry did and that was just the way it was.

Prince Harry was always getting into mischief, whether it was chasing his sister around the castle with his scary mask or snatching the clothing off the line for the hired help to re-clean them all over again. Harry thought this last was hilarious and he would laugh at all the servants, as he caused their jobs to be much harder as they had to do some of them all over again.

“Please, your Highness,” said the little laundry girl, who was just barely tall enough to reach the clothesline to hang things up. “Please don’t throw the washing on the ground again. My back hurts and I am so tired of washing clothes and hanging them on the line.”

Prince Harry just laughed and grabbing the King’s royal cape off the line he chased the little laundry girl all over the yard until he knocked her down with it, then he dropped it down over her head and of course it was so wet that by the time she got it off from herself she was soaking wet and very, very angry.

“I’ll give him what for,” she muttered to herself and started after Prince Harry with the king’s royal cape tucked under her arm.

“I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.” The little laundry girl had four brothers and she knew just how to deal with boys when they acted spoiled and rotten.

“No, no, you mustn’t,” cried one of the laundry women, who ran out and grabbed the laundry girl by the arm and pulled her back. “No one is allowed to discipline the prince or even to criticize him, remember? The last people who told King Alfred that his son was spoiled and rotten disappeared and have never been heard from again. Remember, it is strictly against the law to say anything negative about the royal family. I know that boy is trouble on wheels, but you just mustn’t say anything or you’ll be the one in trouble.”

The little laundry girl went with the older woman but the look she gave Prince Harry, well, if looks really could kill, nobody would have had to worry about Prince Harry’s mischief again.

Every day Prince Harry had a birthday party, even though it wasn’t his birthday. And when it was his birthday, well, you can imagine the kind of a celebration they had then. The king and queen wanted to please Harry and stop him from having his tantrums, so they supplied him with a birthday party every day.

They knew that if Harry did not have his birthday party he would be a very unhappy little boy and an unhappy Harry was a terrible thing, a very terrible thing indeed!

Most importantly, the town’s people got tired of it. A birthday party every day for the same person became boring. Prince Harry had everything he could ever want, so every time someone would bring him a gift, Harry would toss it to the floor like a piece of garbage, often without even bothering to unwrap it.

Royalty and high society came from near and far to see Harry, because they knew that someday he would be the king, but when they left, they had a bad taste in their mouths.

“That boy is a spoiled brat!” said Harry’s Great Uncle Claudius to his wife Isabella. “He’s just like his father was at that age.”

“Shhh,” said Great Aunt Isabella, pushing him quickly towards their carriage. “You know better than to say anything like that. It’s against the law to criticize a member of the royal family, remember? What if someone heard you?”

“But I am a member of the royal family,” argued Great Uncle Claudius. “If anyone heard what I said and told, why then they’d be criticizing a member of the royal family so I’m safe, right?”

“I’m not sure and I don’t want to find out,” said Great Aunt Isabella. “Now hurry and get yourself in that carriage before you say something that will get us in trouble.”

“All right, all right,” grumbled Great Uncle Claudius. “But somebody, who shan’t be mentioned, could do with some good old fashioned discipline. A birthday party every day, the idea, such foolishness! His grandfather and I weren’t raised that way!”

“If you’re talking about the royal pain I completely agree with you, your highness,” said their coachman, as he held the door open for them to climb into the coach.

“Reginald!” said Great Aunt Isadora sharply. “I’ll thank you to keep your mouth closed about such things. I don’t want to disappear never to be seen again even if you two wouldn’t mind.”

“Yes Princess Isadora,” said the coachman. He managed, just barely, to keep a straight face but Great Uncle Claudius grinned as he climbed into the coach behind his wife and gave him a big wink.

“It’s a shame, a real shame,” said Great Uncle Claudius when they had driven far enough away from the castle to know that no one was near enough to hear what they were saying. “That boy is totally out of control and his parents just stand by and let him do as he feels fit. Because they are the king and queen, no one is brave enough to say anything. Even the members of the royal family are afraid to speak about Harry’s rude behavior. His parents aren’t doing him any favor. It’s a shame, a real shame.”

Now that you know a bit about the royal family, let me tell you about the land of Mayfair itself and the other lands around it.

Mayfair was one of the few mystical, magical lands left; most of the others had been invaded by the Bots. Actually invaded may not be the right word. The Bots weren’t a warlike group that overpowered nations and took over, in fact, they were really very friendly and kind beings, it was just that there were so many of them, that when they moved into an area, they simply took over and because they were such an advanced society and had so much to offer, most of the residents were glad to have them there.

King Alfred however did not like the idea of having the Bots move into Mayfair. He very much liked being the king and having his own way about everything and he wanted things to stay just the way they were. It is very easy to see who young Prince Harry took after isn’t it?

King Alfred ordered a 100 million mile wall to be built. “It is the longest wall ever built,” he told the people of Mayfair. “I will have guards guarding the wall day and night, thousands of guards lined up to keep watch. They will make sure that none of the evil Bots get into our beautiful land. I will make sure that you are all protected from the evil Bots.”

The king didn’t add that in keeping watch so that no Bots could enter Mayfair, the guards were also keeping watch to make sure that none of the people of Mayfair could leave without the king knowing about it and giving permission and King Alfred was not about to give permission. “I like things just the way they are,” he told Queen Jasline. “And that’s just the way I plan to keep them.”

“Please your majesty,” called Julius, an older man who had lived in Mayfair all of his life, at least so far, as he liked to tell people. “None of us have ever seen a Bot. Could you tell us what the Bots are like?”

“Gladly,” said King Alfred. He held his hands high in the air and curled his fingers so that they looked like claws and made the scariest face he could possibly make. “They look sort of like this only worse,” he told the people. They are huge ape like creatures over fifteen feet tall and they weight over a ton or more. They carry big clubs and they could kill each one of you with one blow of their clubs without even half trying. They came to some of our neighboring lands in armies of hundreds, killing and destroying everything in sight. But you don’t have to worry, we have our wall and as long as you stay right here in our own land, right behind the wall, you will be safe from the Bots but if you go out beyond the wall you will be in danger of being caught and destroyed by the Bots.”

Many of the people were beginning to feel sick of the royal family. “I feel as if we are being held prisioners in our own land,” whispered Andrea, to her neighbor Bettina. “I think the king is just making up about the Bots in order to keep us all here, but on the other hand, what if he’s not? What if he’s really not?”

Many of the people felt the same way but they were careful not to let the king or any of his guards hear them say so because of the law about saying anything negative about a member of the royal family. None of them wanted to disappear in the night, never to be seen again.

There was one old man by the name of Wisker, who always questioned the king, but he was careful to do it underground in his secret tunnel that not even King Alfred knew about. Wisker wasn’t just any old man; he was an old wizard who at one time had worked for the king, performing magical tricks for the king and his royal visitors. The king had gotten sick of Wisker’s same tricks and had thrown him to the side. “You are not a real wizard,” he had told Wisker. “You don’t do real magic, just silly tricks. You are not a real wizard at all!”

Now this wasn’t true. Wisker was not only a real wizard but a very powerful one at that. He was tall, with very pale skin, and he wore a black cape and a black hood to match. He had a magical book, one so very powerful, that he dare not let it leave his hands. “This book is full of magic spells,” Wisker told his friends. “I hate to think what would happen if it ever fell into the wrong hands and someone found out how to open it.” The book was made of pure leather and had a golden lock to which only Wisker himself knew the combination.

One day Wisker went to the royal throne room to confront the king. “You are not ruling the kingdom of Mayfair fairly or wisely,” he told him. “You must change your ways or a punishment is coming upon your land.”

King Alfred laughed. “You are a silly old fool,” he told him. “Now get out of my sight before I have you tossed away where no one will ever see you again.”

King Alfred didn’t believe that Wisker was really a magician but simply a trickster but he wasn’t sure and he didn’t dare have him thrown out into the darkest part of Mayfair where the sun never shone and from which nobody, NOBODY had ever found their way back.

“If he is a real wizard, I might need him to be on my side at some point,” he reflected, so he satisfied himself with just calling Wisker an old fool and letting it go at that.

Wisker began traveling in and out from the land of Mayfair. He would cast a magic spell and the guards would never even notice him as he passed by them. He traveled to this part of the land outside of Mayfair and to that part of the land outside of Mayfair until at last he satisfied himself that he knew what the Bots were really like.

After that Wisker began calling for nightly meeting in the graveyard. Many of the citizens of Mayfair attended and those who were too afraid to attend would get their information about what had been said from their neighbors who had been there.

“The king is lying to you,” Wisker told the people. “For some reason he is keeping the people of Mayfair hostage and not telling them the truth about the Bots.”

“You tell one thing and King Alfred tells another,” said one man. “How do we know what to believe? How do we know who is telling the truth?”

Wisker reached into of his long cape and pulled out a large silver coin. “This will show you that I have been out of the land of Mayfair,” he told them. The coin had a picture of the Bots on it and was crafted from the finest silver available and by the hands of a very skilled craftsman. As the coin was passed around through the crowd for all to see, it began to shine brighter and brighter until by the time it got back to Wisker it was shining brighter than anything any of them had ever seen before.

One man, by the name of Nigel, stepped forward and reached out to touch the coin again. He very carefully laid one finger on it.

“How did you get this?” he asked Wisker, as he gently rubbed his finger over the glowing design on the coin.

“I got it from a Bot,” answered Wisker. “The Bots are mere harmless creatures and the king of Mayfair is not telling his citizens the truth.”

“How do we know that you didn’t make it?” asked Bettina, who together with her friend Andrea was in the crowd. “You are after all a wizard.”

“I may be a wizard, but I could never imagine something like this,” answered Wisker.

The people continued to gaze at the coin and then they began to wonder what it was really like outside of Mayfair.

“Well, how do we get out of here?” asked Nigal. “I for one want to see what it is really like outside of Mayfair.”

“First we must keep this a secret,” said Wisker. “We must take it slow. If the king finds out that we know he isn’t being truthful with us, he will have us all beheaded. I am a wizard and a powerful one, but the king has magic too, by virtue of his position as king and I am not sure if I can defeat him or not.”

“We must be very careful,” called out a voice and the crowd murmured in agreement.

Wisker looked out over the crowd and they all quieted, waiting to see what he would say next.

“I will choose one person to take on my next journey,” he announced.

“Take me, take me,” called out several voices.

“No, take me,” said one skeptical old man by the name of William, raising his hands and demanding to go.

“No,” called out one woman. “You are the town drunk. Who is going to believe you no matter what you say when you come back? Take me, Wisker, take me with you.”

“No,” said William. “I would be the perfect one to go with you. I may be a drunk but you all know me and you all know that I am not a liar. You all know that whatever I would tell you when we came back would be the truth.”

“Yes, you are the one whom I will take with me, William,’ said Wisker. He drew out his magic wand and the group quieted once again, anxious to see what was about to happen. He twirled his wand around in the air above his head. “Dibbldy dobledy wibbldy woo,” he said, in a voice much unlike his usual speaking voice. Then he pointed his wand straight at William and continued. “We’ll go on this trip, just me and you.”

Suddenly the wand let of sparkles of light and within miutes Wiskers and William disappeared. The people looked all around, where had they gone? Suddenly there was a big bang and the underground tunnel began to shake. Lights, the colors of rainbows bounced off the tunnel walls. There was one more big blast and then all was quiet, very, very quiet. Then the people could hear the sound of the soldiers’ foot steps above them.

The people were very fearful. They knew that if they were caught by the royal guards something terrible might happen to them. They quickly put out and the lamps and remained extremely quiet, just as quiet as quiet could be.

After a little while one man whispered, “Someone should go and see if the coast is clear.” Everyone agreed that what he said was true, but no one felt brave enough to be the one to go and look so they all just stayed there together as quiet as quiet could be.

In the meantime, Wiskers and William, were having their own adventure on their way to the city of Bots. They found themselves encased in a light which landed on the ground and they stepped out of it. William was so amazed at Wiskers powers that he began to bow down to him but Wiskers grabbed him by the hands and pulled him back up. “No, you don’t bow to me,” he told him. “I am not worthy of your praises. I am but a man who has been granted special gifts.”

William got up and looked all around. He realized as he gathered his thoughts that he was no longer in Mayfair but in a whole different world. His eyes bulged almost out of their sockets as he looked around. He had never seen anything like this in his life. “This can’t be,” he whispered to himself, then he began to run towards the towns of the Bots.

Wiskers ran after him. “Hey, slow down,” he told him. “You’ll have time to see everything, You don’t have to hurry.”

William stared all around, his mouth open in amazement. Instead of buildings made of wood or stone, he saw buildings made of steel that floated through the air. Instead of horse drawn carriages, he saw vehicles that flew in mid air at the speed of light. Bright lights were everywhere and most importantly there were the Bots. They were robots with huge glass heads, big blue eyes, and white fabricated bodies. They moved as fast as light and as far as William was concerned there had to have been a million of them.

“What in the world are they?” he asked Wiskers as soon as he found himself able to speak.

“They are the Bots I have been telling you about, the advanced civilization. Come on and socialize. I know many of them and I’ll introduce you. When the Bots saw Wiskers it was evident that he was well known and that the Bots loved him. One small Bot ran up to Wisker and jumping high in the air gave him what we in our world would call a high five. “Well hello, Charlie,” said Wiskers

“Well hello to you and your friend,” answered Charlie.

William became very frightened and began to clinch his fists and to hide behind Wisker Charlie the Bot followed William. “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you,” said Charlie, in a baby voice. Benji stared at him, not quite sure what to think.

“It’s all right,” said Wisker soothingly. “The Bots are friendly folks. Charlie here is just a young boy. He’s the same age as our own Prince Harry.

Charlie reached out his hand in peace to William. At first William was afraid to shake Charlie’s hand, but he trusted Wisker when he said that Charlie was not a threat so he extended his own hand in friendship.

Charlie was so glad to make a new friend that he began to do back flips all through the streets, almost getting hit by a car. Wisker spun his magic wand and caught Charlie up in a bubble and lifted him away from the traffic, bouncing him up and down in the air as he did so.

“What a strange creature,” said William.

Wisker smiled. “That is one of the war like apes that King Alfred has been telling us about,” he told him. “I told you there was more to Mayfair than the king wants people to know.”

William nodded, still looking around this way and that in amazement to see a world so different in its advanced technology from what he was used to seeing and here it was, right under his nose.

“Charlie, Charlie, where are you?” called a lady Bot, as she hurried along, sounding rather panicky.

“It’s all right, he’s right here,” said Wisker, as he brought Charlie down from the ball of bubble that he was in. “I was afraid he was going to get hit by one of your vehicles, so I caught him up.”

Charlie’s mother was very upset and it was evident that she did not want Charlie hanging out with the humans. She grabbed Charlie by the hands and quickly pulled him away from Wisker, giving Wisker an evil look as she did so.

“Why was she so angry with us?” asked William, puzzled.

“It’s not us, it’s King Alfred. He declared war on the Bots.

Instead of learning about them he chose to destroy them. He told them they were not wanted or welcomed in Mayfair.”

Wisker pulled William back away from traffic. “We’d better get you to a safer place” he told him. “You’re not used to all this and we don’t want you getting run over. Let’s go have some fun while we’re here.” Wisker took William to an arena where bots were cheering and betting on their favorite racer.

William couldn’t believe his eyes. The arena was larger than any arena he could possibly have imagined. “Wow!” said William as he looked all around and saw the Bot statues everywhere and the huge screens displaying the races going on. “Look, look,” he cried pointing, as he spotted himself on one of the screens in super size. He shook Wisker by the arm as he pointed.

Wisker grinned. He remembered how he had felt the first time he had visited the arena. “I know, isn’t that amazing?” he said. William nodded and continued to stare at the screen.

“Would you like to bet on a team?” asked one of the Bots. Wisker quickly picked and ticket and choose driver number five. It was easy to see that he was an old timer at this. William on the other hand was overwhelmed by what he was seeing and didn’t even take a ticket from the Bot. The Bot finally got tired of waiting and headed off to find some other betters. “Hey Wisker, next time bring someone who is more fun,” he said as he was leaving.

Wisker laughed. “You really need to lighten up,” he told William.

Soon the race started and on the track were race cars, painted in bright mutable colors and each one numbered. The track was so advanced that it floated in the air, giving the audience a 3D feeling. Wisker’s car, number five, was bright and shinny. The driver hopped out of the car and waved at the crowd. He was a tall Bot, wearing blue racing gear and helmet.

“He is the most popular driver of all,” said Wisker to William. “But he has a lot of competition on the track. There are many Bots ready to take his fame away from him.”

“Hi Wisker, my human friend,” called Driver Number Five. The crowd went wild with cheering as one of the big screens showed Wisker waving back.

“They really like you said William.

Wisker just smiled and went on watching the race.

The race started. The engines roared and the Bots screamed. William suddenly noticed that there were more humans in the land of the Bots than he had thought. “I see humans all through the crowd,” he thought to himself.

“Wisker, there are humans here,” he said urgently, giving Wisker’s arm a slight shake to get his attention.

“Why yes there are,” answered Wisker calmly. “Those are humans that managed to escape from the land of Mayfair and found refuge with the Bots. The king is lying to the people when he tells them that the Bots are mean and evil. They are truly great creatures who want nothing more than to be our friends.”

William looked all around at the crowds of people, both Bot and human and was amazed to see that they were all living in harmony.

Suddenly the truth of what he was seeing began to sink in. “You mean the king has lied to us all these years?” he asked.

Wisker just nodded and then turned his attention to the race. “Car number five is in the lead with one more lap to go,” he said excitedly.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven….,” yelled the timekeeper. The crowd went wild as the seconds counted down. The cars flew over the heads of the people and by an inch, number five won.

“Great bidding,” said a Bot, as he paid Wisker and sped off.

“That’s how I got the coin to show the people in Mayfair,” remarked Wisker, as he carefully tucked away his winnings.

William was in a state of shock at what he was seeing as he suddenly began to realize what it all meant. He began to wander through the crown, touching the Bots and talking with the humans who lived with the Bots. “Didn’t you once live in the land of Mayfair?” he asked one couple whom he thought he recognized.

“Yes,” they answered. “But the king is lying to the people and telling them how mean and warlike the Bots are and you can see for yourself that that is not true.”

William began to shake his head in disbelief. “I can’t get over the fact that the king is nothing more than a liar,” he said.

“We must go now,” said Wisker. “It is time for us to go back and tell the rest of the people the truth.”

“No,” screamed William suddenly. “I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here where people can trust each other, humans and Bots alike.” Suddenly William threw his hands up into the air and ran off into the crowd like a crazy man, kicking and screaming.

Wisker waved his wand. “Wibbledy, wobbledy, bibblede de, William, come right back to me,” he intoned.

The magic spell lifted William right off the ground and put him right back with Wisker. “It is time for us to go back to the land of Mayfair and tell the people the truth,” Wisker told him.

“No, I can’t go back, it’s all a lie,” said William. He quickly pushed Wisker down and ran off. Wisker tried to find him with his magic wand but William, zigged and zagged through the crowd and Wisker couldn’t find him anywhere.

Wisker summoned the Bot police, but William was long gone, probably hiding somewhere in the shadows, and they were unable to find him either.

“Now I have a dilemma on my hands,” Wisker told the Bot police. “I need William to tell the people of Mayfair that the land of the Bots is real and now I have nothing. I won’t use my magic to force him to come back, but I’m afraid that he may be in shock from all of the advanced technology he has seen, the speeding vehicles and the speed of light trains. I really need to find him to make sure that he is all right.”

“We will help you look for him,” the Bot police assured him. “Between us we ought to be able to find him.”

Wisker waved his magic wand and flew off, looking for William here, there and everywhere. He conjured up large snakes to help him. He waved his magic wand and pouf, out of thin air, there were the snakes. They were each ten feet in length and very colorful. So colorful as a matter of fact that they glowed in the dark. They each had a great sense of smell and Wisker used his magic to let them know exactly how William smelled. Not that William had a bad smell you understand, but each person has their own particular odor and this would make it easier for them to perhaps find William. “I want you to go quickly and search the grounds and sniff out the city to find William,” he told them. The snakes set off on a mission to find William. They went through the sewers and water drains and under the darkest tunnels. The snakes searched and searched but found nothing. They slithered through the streets, knocking over trash cans, crawling up walls, and looking through windows, but they could not find William. Finally they came upon an old drunken man sleeping behind a trash can. He had the odor of William about him, but it wasn’t very strong. Still, they weren’t sure if he was William or not, so some of them slithered up the man’s body and held him tight, while they all summoned Wisker with their minds.

Wisker appeared within seconds and looked at the man. “This is not him,” Wisker told the snakes and they quickly let him go. Wisker noticed that the man was wearing William’s jacket. “You are wearing my companion’s jacket,” he told the man. “That is why my snake friends picked up the scent. How do you come to have my companion’s jacket?”

The man answered but he was so drunk that Wisker could not understand a word that he said. Wisker asked him again but it was all to no avail, he couldn’t understand a word that the man was saying. “Well,” thought Wisker finally. “It is time to go and I guess I’m going to have to go back to Mayfair empty handed.” Wisker let out a deep sigh. “I know what the truth is and I will tell it to the people but deep down inside, I am afraid that the people of the land of Mayfair will never, never believe me.”

Chapter two

The Liar

“It is time for me to return home,” Wisker told the Bots who gathered around him. “I can no longer wait for William to be found. I will pay you very well to keep looking for my friend. Here is most of the money that I won tonight. I must keep some of it to show to the people of the land of Mayfair as proof that I have been here. If you have not found William by the time that I next return, I will find a way to get more money to pay you to look for him.”

“That will be easy,” called a Bot named Robin. “You will just bet on number Five and you will have all of the money you will need.”

Wisker and all of the Bots in the group laughed. “Someday that may not be true,” Wisker told them. “All of the racers are working hard to improve their skills and someday one of them may even get better than racer number five.”

Wisker looked around. “Well, I guess I’ve got to go home now,” he told them. “I am afraid that when I go back home without William the people will see me as being a liar,” he let out a deep sigh. “Never the less, it is time to go back.” He held up his magic wand and said, “Wibbledee, bibbledee, dibbledee dome, now is the time for me to go home.” A gateway opened and Wisker stepped through it. Soon he was back in the secret tunnel. The people quietly clapped when they saw him.

“The queen’s foot soldiers are out and searching the grounds,” said a man named Jeremy, coming close to Wisker and speaking quietly. “Where is your proof?”

Wisker hung his head low. “My companion William will not be returning,” he confessed. “He loved it so much in the new world, it was so big and shocking, that he decided to stay there and make it his home.”

“You are a liar,” cried Maggie. “William is my husband and there is no way that he would have left me and his family.” She began to cry and to mmoan for her husband.

“But indeed he did,” said Wisker. “I have tried to find him, but he just disappeared.”

“You are a liar, a liar, a liar!” cried Maggie. She pulled her apron up over her face and cried and cried.

The people in the room soon became divided. Some believed what Wisker was saying and others did not.

“Please listen to me,” pleaded Wisker but he had very few listeners now and soon the people began to move out and to shake their heads with disbelief.

“Wisker is just an old crazy wizard who lies to us,” said Nigal sadly.

“Please listen to me,” pleaded Wisker. “What I am telling you is the truth.” But the people didn’t believe him, no matter what treasures he showed them from his recent trip.

“He just used a magic spell to make those things,” cried Bettina. “He isn’t the great wizard we used to believe him to be. Now he is just a crazy old wizard. Who lies to us.”

Soon Wisker was left all alone in the room. I t was completely silent and dark. Wisker began to blame himself for taking Benji with him. “Now there is no way that I am ever going to get anyone to believe me,” he said to himself.

Suddenly Wisker heard footsteps coming through the tunnel. They weren’t just the footsteps of a few people but of hundreds and they were all coming towards Wisker. “Someone has told the soldiers where I am,” thought Wisker. He went to pick up his wand to disappear and found that it had been stolen. “There is no way out,” thought Wisker. I am in very serious trouble.” Wisker quickly hid behind an old table.

“Come out, Wisker,” shouted King Alfred. Wisker raised his head and came out from behind the table.

“You will spend eternity in prison,” King Alfred told Wisker. It was evident that the king was very upset.

“But my lord, you are lying to your people,” said Wisker.

“You fool!!! These low grade humans could never understand what their eyes will be seeing,” said King Alfred disparagingly.

Wisker looked at the king whom he had once protected and served. “I am so very disappointed in you,” he told him sadly. “I can’t believe that you are willing to keep your people in a bubble and not let them know that there is another world out there.”

“Take him to prison,” said King Alfred, pointing at Wisker. “Never let him see the light of day again.”

“I am not going without a fight,” thought Wisker. “You are a stupid fool,” he shouted at the king. “Nothing but a lying, stupid fool!” The guards began to punch and kick Wisker and dragged him by his cape to the prison.

“Please listen to me,” pleaded Wisker to the guards. “Your king is lying to you.” Wisker pleaded with the guards who had once been happy to claim him as their friend, but it was all to no avail. Wisker was put on public display and everyone in Mayfair was there to witness the fall of Wisker.

“You fools, the king will kill you all,” shouted Wisker as he was dragged through the public square.

Many of the people there had once been Wisker’s friends, but now they were his enemies. “It is not safe to be Wisker’s friend any more,” said Jeremy, as he began to clap. “Don’t look sad or you’ll be finding yourself the next one to be dragged off.”

Deep down, many of the people began to wonder if there was something to Wisker’s story, but it was too late to do anything about it, at least right then.

After Wisker had been dragged off, the people of the land of Mayfair went to their homes and found that the front door of each home had a letter nailed to it.

Daniel took the letter off from his door and read it out loud to his family. “If any citizens are caught defying the kingdom of Mayfair and the royal family they will be sentenced to Dragon Island where no one has ever come out alive,” he read.

“The king also wants it to be known that anyone who was a part of Wisker’s secret meetings will be punished.”

Daniel’s family was very frightened. They hurried into their home and quickly locked the door behind them. “The King has found out about the secret meetings and the secret tunnels,” whispered Daniel.

“Will you still try to find out the truth?” asked Dorcus, Daniel’s wife. She just barely whispered the words for fear someone might be listening and overhear what they were saying.

“Yes,” answered Daniel. “We can’t be held prisioners in our own land, we just can’t.”

The people of the land of Mayfair were very frightened and they became suspicious of everyone. The king wanted the names of all the people who had been against him and soon neighbors began to be afraid that other neighbors would tell on them and small fights and even wars broke out, neighbors against neighbors and tribes against tribes.

“This is exactly what I wanted to have happen,” said the king in great satisfaction. He sent out his foot soldiers to gather all the people who had betrayed him and all the people were so frightened that they all told on each other.

Some of the king’s soldiers came out into the courtyard. They played some important sounding notes on their long horns and all the people gathered around to hear what they had to say.

One of the soldiers climbed up to a high platform built into the fence and began to read. “The king is setting some new rules,” he read “The citizens are no longer allowed to celebrate holidays, not even birthdays. The citizens are mandated to work I the fields from sun up to sun down. The king is taking away any money that the people have, any property and anything of value. Anything that has any value from now on belongs to the king. That is just the way it is and just the way it will be from now on”

Many people began to cry and to wish for Wisker. “I wish Wisker was here,” whispered some of the people, but they didn’t dare to whisper it too loud for fear of being over heard and being caught and punished by the king. The king became mean and arrogant. The people were now suffering and there was no one to help them. “Please forgive us, your majesty,” begged some of the people. “We promise to have parties and dancing in the street and never to criticize your majesty again.”

“No!” thundered the king. “The only ones in this kingdom who are allowed to have parties are my son, Prince Harry and his sister, Princess Cilla. You will enjoy the parties, no matter how terrible they seem. Prince Harry and Princess Calla are the only children in the kingdom allowed to receive gifts. The other children in the kingdom are my property, just the same as the cattle and the horses are my property. The only reason they are allowed to come to the parties is so that my son and daughter have other children with whom to play.”

“This country is nothing less than a prison now,” whispered Bettina, to her best friend Abigail, whom she knew she could trust implicitly. “I remember when the king used to say that we were like family to him and it was evident that he really felt that way too.”

“I know,” whispered Abigail. “The king has lost his mind and we are nothing but prisioners now. Some of the people have begun to secretly hatch a plan to get Wisker out of prison but that is going to be very hard. Wisker is guarded around the clock and if any of us were ever caught trying to free him; well I hate to think what might happen to us.”

One morning the people of the land of Mayfair got up to find that by the guard gates there was a bull. Now this wasn’t just any ordinary bull, this was a massive bull, with horns that stretched out for miles. The bull spat out rainbows of fire, which while they were very pretty, they were also very dangerous, scotching trees and walls. “They will scotch us too if we get too close,” said Daniel. “We must be very, very careful.”

Some of the men of the kingdom began to dig a new underground tunnel. Every night they would sneak out of their homes and take turns digging the underground tunnel, trying to break into the prison and free Wisker.

At the same time that the people who lived outside of the palace were working to free Wisker, the palace maids and butlers were also plotting against the king. The maids would fix the king sleeping tonic that would knock him out cold, then they would send coded messages through out the kingdom to tell Wisker to hang on, they were all trying to help him.

One day there was a hitch in the plan. .”There is no way that we can outsmart the king,” thought one of the maids. “Soon he will find out what is going on and God help all of us! I am going to tell the queen what is happening and ask for her protection. Maybe I’ll get a big reward.”

The queen was very angry when she found out what was happening. She called a large group of her own personal guards together. “Go out into the land and revenge the plot on my husband,” she ordered.

The guards went out by the thousands, running through the kingdom, arresting everyone from maids to peasant workers. “Burn these homes to the ground,” ordered one of the chief guards. “These people will have no use for them again; they will all spend the rest of their lives in prison.”

A storm of betrayal went through went through the town, all because of what the maid had started.

The maid was very frightened. She hid herself in the queen’s room and looked out the window. “Oh what if the king doesn’t win and this backlashes on me?” she thought to herself. She saw her village being burned to the ground. She saw people whom she knew being carried off to jail, she saw many being tied and bound and carried off to jail and for the first time she realized what she had done. “Maybe the queen and king will give me pardon,” she thought to herself but it was not so.

“If you will turn against your own people you will turn against me the same way,” the queen told her sternly. “I cannot trust you. You are guilty of treason.” The queen turned to her royal guards. “Haul her off to jail,” she ordered. “She is not to be trusted...”

The people in the prison were very angry with the maid. “We almost had a way out of prison but because of your inability to hold a secret, the plan is now in danger of failing,” they told her. The maid huddled in a corner by herself, trembling and shaking with fear. Many of the people shunned her and called her a traitor.

“Please forgive me,” begged the maid, but none of the people was willing to listen to her. They shunned her and threw stones in her direction and no one, not one single person, felt sorry for her. “You silly woman, you have risked our freedom,” shouted one of the prisioners at her. All the maid could do was cry and hang her head low, but no one felt sorry for her, not one single person.

Overhead the prisoners could hear the footsteps of people running through the land. “Maybe it is people trying to escape or maybe it is the guards marching through the village, taking everyone they can to prison.”

There was only one man who was not affected by this terrible ordeal and this was Sir Porcupine. Actually his name of course wasn’t Sir Porcupine, it was really Thomas, but the king had nicknamed him porcupine because of the way that his hair stood up on his head. Sir Porcupine acted very foolish and made the king and queen laugh at his silly antics. “That Sir Porcupine is a few cards short of a full deck,” King Alfred told Queen Jasline as Sir Porcupine tumbled around on the floor, pretending to try to turn summersaults and failing miserably.

Sir Porcupine and his family was spared and moved into the palace with the king and queen. “This is your very own home space,” King Alfred told Sir Porcupine and his family. “The palace will be your home just as it is mine.”

The king and queen thought that Sir Porcupine was their true friend, even if he wasn’t very bright. If they had only known the truth, Sir Porcupine was extremely bright and he and Wisker were the best of friends, even though they didn’t show their affection in front of the king or queen.

Sir Porcupine kept a close eye on the king and queen and listened to all their private conversations, every chance he got. “I vowed to whisker that I would set him free,” he said to himself. “And I along with many brave citizens of the land of Mayfair am going to do my very best to keep that vow.”

In the meantime, the sleeping tonic that the maids had been slipping to the king had an unexpected effect. It sent him into a very deep comma. The queen was beside herself with anxiety. “I don’t know what to do,” she moaned. “I want my husband to come out of this comma and be well.”

Sir Porcupine continued to keep a close eye on the queen and to listen to every private conversation that she had with the royal guards. One day he heard what he considered to be the ultimate betrayal.

“I want you to bring the guillotine to the public square,” Queen Jasline ordered the royal guards. I am going to get rid of that pest Wisker and his followers.”

Sir Porcupine felt his blood chill in his veins. “I have to get Wisker freed,” he said to himself. “But how am I going to do it? Most of the men are in jail and there is no way that I can dig the rest of the tunnel to release the wizard by myself.”

Sir Porcupine took the long way around to get to the prison, slipping into this place and that place so that he would not be seen and at last he was at the prison and tried to find a way to get in. There was one major problem, a mammoth problem to be truthful, and that was the bull, whom he found waiting for him. The bull began to snort and to kick dirt in the air when he saw Sir Porcupine. Then he blew fire at Sir Porcupine, narrowly missing his face.

“It’s a very good thing I have on a knight’s shield and armor to protect myself from the burning flames,” thought Sir Porcupine. Sir Porcupine thought and thought. “How can I get past the bull and rescue Wisker,” he asked himself.

Finally he had an idea. Sir Porcupine got hold of an extra strong dose of the sleeping tonic that the maids had been slipping to King Alfred. He fed the sleeping tonic to a goat and then he fed the goat to the bull, who gobbled it all up in one bite.

Sir Porcupine hid behind a bush. “I’ll just wait here for the poison to take effect,” he said to himself. He watched and kept track of all the royal guards who entered and who left the prison guards.

Soon there was only one guard at the gate. The bull had finally fallen asleep and the guard stretched his arms out and yawned and sat down on a nearby stool. “I’ll just take a little nap,” said the guard. “There’s no one out there and if anyone should come along, the bull will wake up and he’ll take care of him.” The guard leaned back using his hands for a pillow and soon he was fast asleep.

“I’ll just make sure that the guard will not wake up for a while,” said Sir Porcupine to himself. He took a poisonous dart and shot it straight into the guard. “There, that will keep him sleeping for awhile,” said Sir Porcupine, with evident satisfaction.

Once the guard had slipped into an even deeper sleep, Sir Porcupine snuck in to the prison and ran from cell to cell, looking for Wisker. He found Wisker in the very farthest cell, guarded by a golden harp and a ghost. Sir Porcupine pretended to be a guard, by putting on his armor and face shield.

“The ghost plays the harp when someone is escaping,” whispered Wisker, as Sir Porcupine slipped close to the bars of the cell. “It will wake up anyone who is sleeping. It will even wake up the dead.”

Suddenly the ghost spotted Sir Porcupine and realized that not all was as it should be. He was about to play the tune that would wake up the dead when Sir Porcupine made a dive for the harp and with super human effort, managed to snatch it from the ghost’s hands.

Without the harp, the ghost could not be heard. H ran around the prison, trying to scream, but it did no good. The harp was now in Sir Porcupine’s hands and he was not going to give it up.’

Wisker arose from his state of depression and worthlessness. He had grown old and weary.

Chapter Three

Freeing Wisker

Wisker was in a state of shock to see that someone had come to save him. “I have waited so long, so very long,” he sobbed. Wisker was a mess. He had been treated very badly, with little food and little water and no sunlight for his skin. Just as Wisker had grown old, so had his spirit. I am too old to fight,” said Wisker. “I’m sorry, I would if I could, but I am just way too old.”

“Get up,” said Sir Porcupine. “You must fight. Too many people risked their lives to save yours. We need your help.”

Wisker looked around and saw all of the people that were in prison. When he saw all the people that had cared enough for him to risk their lives, even though it meant prison, Wisker tearfully sobbed and at the same time he began to gain his strength and his composure.

“You must go and find Benji, your old companion,” said a lady in a nearby jail cell. “Bring him back and the king will see that you are not lying.”

“If only I had my magic wand,” said Wisker. “It is my only way of getting out of Mayfair.”

“I have it right here,” said Sir Porcupine, and so he did. He pulled out the magic wand that Wisker had not seen in months.

Wisker rubbed his hands almost reverently over his favorite wand and then began to kiss it. “I will bring justice to you all,” said Wisker. “I promise you, I will bring justice to you all.” Wisker ran off out of the prison yard and into the forest on the border of Mayfair, with Sir Porcupine close behind him. “”Will you be my companion?” Wisker asked Sir Porcupine.

“Anything for you, my old friend,” said Sir Porcupine.

Suddenly there was a rumbling of the ground, suggesting that the royal soldiers were on their way. “Quick, over here,” said Sir Porcupine, pulling Wisker off the beaten pathway and into a shrub of trees, just as the soldiers came speeding in their carriages and on horses. Wisker and Sir Porcupine quietly stayed put, scarcely daring to breathe,

“Look over in those bushes,” ordered the captain of the soldiers. “I think I just saw something move.”

Wisker and Sir Porcupine stiffened, trying to hold as still as still could be. Suddenly a large rabbit jumped out of some nearby bushes and ran toward the soldiers. The soldiers started to pull their swords to do battle but then they saw that it was just a rabbit.

“We aren’t here to fight battles with rabbits,” said one of the officers. “Spread out and look around. We need to find Wisker and Sir Porcupine.” The soldiers looked and looked until they got tired of looking and decided that Wisker and Sir Porcupine were not in the area.

The soldiers put up wanted signs showing pictures of Wisker and Sir Porcupine. “Wanted, dead or alive, by the king and queen of Mayfair,” read one of the officers. “There, that ought to do it. Come on men, they aren’t here; we’ve got other places to look. Let’s go. You know the queen isn’t going to be happy if we come back empty handed. The queen is as bad as Prince Harry when it comes to having her own way.”

The soldiers rode off and both Wisker and Sir Porcupine let out deep sighs of relief. “Come, we must hurry!” said Wisker. Wisker and Porcupine began to follow the trail to the way out of Mayfair. As soon as they came to what they considered to be a safe spot, Wisker tried to use his magic wand, but it wouldn’t work. Over and over he tried but still nothing happened.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Sir Porcupine.

“My wand is not working,” said Wisker. He looked the wand over and over from one tip to the other. “Here’s the problem,” he said at last. “Someone has tampered with the magic seal and golden dust has either broken off or been smudged off.”

“Now what do we do?” asked Sir Porcupine.

“The only way to fix this is to find the master of all wizards, Jeronomo,” answered Wisker, studying his wand carefully to see if he could possibly have missed something.

“Who is he and where can we find him?” asked Sir Porcupine.

“In the Death Valley,” answered Wisker, as he looked with disgust at his wand. “Someone has really mistreated this wand. The queen probably let her spoiled son Harry play with it.”

“I am so sorry that has happened,” said Sir Porcupine. Sir Porcupine was an ordinary human, not a magical one like Wisker, and he felt a personal responsibility when one of his own people did something that hurt others.

“It’s not your fault,” said Wisker to his friend. “But now getting out of Mayfair has just become much harder. There are wanted signs all around and bounties placed on our heads.”

“How come the people of Mayfair never come to this forest?” asked Sir Porcupine curiously. “It seems like such a nice place. to play and have picnics.”

“Because of the king,” answered Wisker. “The king is afraid he’ll lose his power of being ruler and forbade the people ever to leave the land of Marfair. There are many more lands out here and the king is so greedy that he has locked his people in Mayfair. He is afraid that if they see another world that they like better than Mayfair that they will decide to stay there and never come back.

But right now we have some serious business to attend to and a long task ahead of us. Even if we could get to the land of the Bots, we could not stay there. We have a responsibility to free the people of Mayfair from the tyranny of the king and queen.”

“But we are wanted by the entire land of Mayfair and beyond,” said Sir Porcupine. “The palace has put out a hefty reward for our capture and we have no choice but to try our best to escape. You know what will happen to us if we’re caught.” Sir Porcupine put his hand up to his throat protectively as he thought of the guillotine that the queen was having set up in the public square in Mayfair.

“We have no other choice but to try our best to escape,” said Wisker. “And to do this, we have to travel down the forbidden parts of the land. First we must go to the Wood of Berlington.”

Wisker and Sir Porcupine began to walk. “I can feel an evil aura over us,” said Wisher, who, being a magical being, could sense magical things, even though his wand was broken.

“You know the Woods of Berlington is haunted don’t you?” asked Sir Porcupine.

“Yes I do,” answered Wisker. “Now keep your head down and pull your hood over head.” He did the same thing himself as he spoke. “We don’t want people to recognize us from our wanted posters if we can help it.”

The Burlington woods were very scary. The trees began to whisle and the rocks began to taunt the two passer bys by calling out, to them. “You silly men, why do you come to Burlington woods?” called one of the rocks.

“Pay no attention to them,” Wisker told Sir Porcupine. Sir Porcupine nodded, but Wisker could see that Sir Porcupine was very much afraid and he would comfort him by smiling now and again.

Soon the dirt began to move like a winding snake under their feet. “Run,” cried Wisker and the two men began to run, faster and faster. Suddenly Sir Porcupine tripped on his cape and fell to the ground. Before he could get up a gain, out of the dirt rose a large three headed dragon, with ivory horns coming out of its faces and heads. The dragon was an ash color, with the tip of his tail a bright fluorescent

orange. The dragon’s scale flaked off as it pounded on the dirt, trying to squash Sir Porcupine.

Wisker ran out in front of the dragon, trying to save his friend. “Stop!” he ordered,, in that tone of voice which only wizards are able to command. “My wand isn’t working, but the dragon doesn’t know that,” thought Wisker to himself.

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the monster. “I said stop!” he thundered.

The dragon was so afraid that it ran back into the earth, leaving nothing more than a large hole. “That was close,” said Wisker, tucking his wand carefully away.

“Why was it so afraid of your wand?” asked sir Porcupine.

“Many years ago wizards ruled the land and they had mighty powers, even greater than they have today. Dragons remember this and are fearful of the powers of wizards.”

Sir Porcupine and Wisker hurried along the path. The forest was slowly coming alive. The trees and the e plants were beginning to change colors, their fangs and tongues smelled fresh blood. The plants sent out their roots to gather the trespassers. Soon once again the dirt moved and the roots of the plants and trees were after Wisker and Sir Porcupine.

“We must jump into the lake,” Wisker told Sir Porcupine. The two men ran and took big leaps, first this way and then that as the roots of the plants began to chase them. With one push off, the two men flew into the air and made a big splash into the air. The trees and the plants cried out in anger and frustration; they had missed out on their food.

Little did Wisker and Sir Porcupine know that they were being watched as they hurried along. Behind a large rock was an unknown creature that stood about four feet high. The creature had red scales, big black eyes and a glowing halo above its head. Its hands and feet were webbed, sort of like a ducks and its tiny ears could hear the slightest movement. The creature watched for a little while, then slightly wiggled its right ear and disappeared into a green mist.

Meanwhile in the lake Wisker and Sir Porcupine were being pushed and shoved around by the strong waters. Wisker managed to hold onto a tree limb which seemed to give him a secure respite, at least for a little bit. “Porcupine, Sir Porcupine,” he called softly, trying to locate his friend, but Sir Porcupine was no where to be seen. If Wisker had but known it, Sir Porcupine was having his own adventure, tumbling down waterfalls. Wisker called out to his friend again, but it did no good, there was no answer. The two men were now apart, both following down the river going about their separate ways.

Wisker held onto the tree limb with all his might, trying to decide what he should do next.

One part of him would have liked to have given up, but he kept in mind all of the people that he had left behind, all of the people who had risked their lives to save his, and he knew that he must keep on going, that he owed his life to the many people of Mayfair and he must do all that he could to save them. “Failure isn’t an option,” he thought to himself. “I also must do all that I can to find Sir Porcupine. He risked his life to save me and I can’t just throw away my life without doing all I can to rescue him.” Wisker listened carefully to see if he could hear anything of Sir Porcupine but although the areas was anything but quiet, there was no sound of a human voice.

“Porcupine, I will never forget you,” called out Wisker at the top of his voice. “I will find you someday.” Wisker listened carefully to see if there was an answering call but although Wisker didn’t know it, his call was drown out by the crashing waves of the water hitting the rocks.

Wisker wiped away a tear and then carefully pulled himself up onto the banks of the river to rest, for just a tiny bit. Wisker held his head and began to cry. “The one companion who was dear to me I have lost,” he said to himself. “I could not save him.”

Suddenly the leaves and shrubs began to rumble and Wisker could hear the trotting of hooves becoming louder and louder. Wisker quickly jumped up and hid behind a large stone. After a moment he peeked out and saw five headless riders conversing with each other, using some sort of hand signals to communicate. They turned their bodies this way and that as if somehow they were looking around and for a moment, Wisker thought he had been spotted, but the headless riders just turned away and rode off.

Wisker’s knees were shaking so badly that he fell to the ground. He began beating his hands in the dirt in frustration until they began to bleed. The blood, being the blood of a magic wizard, gave off an odor different than that of ordinary humans and suddenly out of the woods came a bunch of blood thirsty diamond ants. These ants are small with a spec of a diamond on their heads. They live off the blood of dead animals or in this case, bleeding wizards.

“Get out of here you blood suckers,” shouted Wisker in an angry voice, but the ants weren’t about to leave until all of the blood on the ground had evaporated through their skin. When this had been accomplished, they turned their attention to Wisker and his bleeding hands, but Wisker began to beat at them with his magic wand and since he proved to be a good aim and to kill several with one blow, they quickly gave up and ran for the shelter of the forest.

Wisker could feel himself starting to sink into a state of depression, but he quickly shook himself and refused to give into it. “Soon I may have to face even more demons,” said Wisker to himself, as he gathered his thoughts and began to move on. I must do my best to keep my wits about me. Many people risked their lives for me; I can do nothing less than to do the same for them. I will need to quickly find a safe shelter where I can rest for a little while if I hope to remain alive.”

Wisker continued along the path for a few more miles and suddenly it began to snow. Wisker turned and was going to turn back from the cold but it was too late, the woods were beginning to disappear. Everything seemed to have disappeared and Wisker found himself surrounded by snow. He was so cold and hungry that all he could do was cry. “It is my fault,” he told himself. “I never should have come this way. I should have waited and thought out a different plan. Now Sir Porcupine is lost and I am probably going to freeze or starve to death and I won’t be any help to Sir Porcupine of the people of the land of Mayfair, after all they have done for me and it is all my fault.”

Wisker stumbled on, not about to give up but dreading what might happen next. Suddenly a large bison appeared in the path in front of him. It was a huge thing, with horns that stood out about eight feet and the amount of fur that it had could make clothing for a few hundred men.

Wisker was so cold that he didn’t stop to give thought as to whether the bison was friendly or not. It had what he needed and he just approached it with that in mind. He stumbled over to the creature and leaned against it, letting its body heat flow into him. The bison moved so that he was helping to support Wisker as he stood there. Wisker could feel some of his strength coming back with the heat from the bison’s body. As he leaned against the bison, Wisker began to get an idea. “I know how I can take some of the bison’s heat with me if heR

http://www.amazon.com/Peter-Carrot-Top-Search-8th-Key/dp/1598249673

Chapter 1

Meet the Carrot-Tops

A long, long time ago, in the year 1850, there was a man by the name of Sam Carrot-Top. He was a well educated man, slender in build and always wore a dusty old cap that covered his orange hair and broken glasses. He was an honest and wealthy man, but you would never guess that he and his family were well off; he never showed his wealth or bragged about it. He used his money to help the poor and needy.

His wife, Jane, was oh so beautiful, with lush red hair, a petite figure, and smooth, creamy pale skin. She loved all the children in the neighborhood, always fixing a broken heart or a scraped knee. She was the perfect housewife, the kind any man could want.

They lived in a small town in Georgia called Valdosta. Sam and Jane were the talk of the town; they grew the largest vegetables and fruits the eyes have ever seen. Their watermelons were the size of houses and carrots as long as 20 feet!

All the neighbors began to whisper, and became jealous of the success of the Carrot-Tops; farmers came from near and far to see the great Carrot-Top plantation. Because of the popularity of their fruits and vegetables, they became a household name. Merchants came from all over the world to buy their fruits and vegetables.

Some of the other farmers became extremely jealous of the success of the Carrot-Tops. They tried to sabotage their land, either by overflowing it with garbage or water, but it never worked. The fruits and vegetables kept on growing and growing. Some were so tall that their leaves touched the clouds. Nevertheless, Sam and Jane ignored their rivals and continued to be good neighbors.

Their pride and joy was their son and only child, Peter Carrot-Top, a 10-year-old boy who was as skinny as a Beanpole with bright orange hair and deep freckles on his face. He wore the same old clothing over and over again, brown khaki pants and a rainbow-colored shirt with two different colored shirt sleeves.

Peter was teased by all the kids. Not only was his hair funny, but his name, Peter Carrot-Top, was as well. The kids teased him all day. Every day it was the same thing, kids singing, "Peter Carrot-Top, Peter Carrot-Top," in an annoying and devilish tone.

Peter was sick of it. Unfortunately, every time he got upset, his head would swell up like a big orange balloon and his orange hair would gently stand up at attention. This made the kids laugh even harder.

Peter was all alone in the world; he didn't understand or fit in. There was nothing the principal or the teachers could do. He was just a special boy. His mother and father were hurt the most; Peter got the orange hair from his father, and the freckles from his mother.

His parents went to the school regularly to seek help for him. Just a poor farmer, Peter's father did not know what to do. He would pace the school hall as he talked to the Dean of the school asking for help for his son, but Mr. Snicker, the Dean, just walked around with his fat gut stuck out, and only made the Carrot-Tops feel worse by telling them their child needed to be placed in a special school.

Peter's father slammed down his hat in frustration as the Dean sat back in his leather chair, and smoked his cigar with a smirk on his face.

Mr. Snicker shouted at Peter's father, "Boy, calm down before I have you thrown out on your ears!"

Peter's father grabbed up his hat; took his wife by the hand and stormed into Peter's English class. "Peter, get your things. We're taking you out of this school!"

By the look on his father's face, Peter knew that his dad was very upset. All Peter's mother could do was cry and sob as they walked out the doors. The kids began to laugh, and once again, Peter felt distant and alone.

Peter and his family jumped into their wagon, and off they went. He could see the concentration on his father's face, and the sadness in his mother's eyes. Peter began to tell his parents how very sorry he was, but a gentle touch on the hands from his mother let him know it was all right. Peter lay back in the seat of the wagon and didn't say another word.

Suddenly the wagon began to lift until it started to fly. Peter jumped out of his seat and gazed in awe; he was speechless. He looked down and saw that they were above the world.

He could see the cows and trees, and he even spotted his house. Peter was tickled to death; he began to laugh hysterically until his parents started laughing with him.

Peter said, "Father, what is going on?"

Peter's dad didn't say anything, then his mother jumped in and told Peter that they were from a different kind of generation.

"What kind is that?" Peter asked, dumbfounded.

Then a stronger, sterner voice jumped in; it was Peter's father. He went on to tell Peter the story of the Carrot-Tops.

Peter listened intently, and hung onto his father's every word. Peter's eyes began to move back and forth as every word spilled from his father's lips. He waited patiently to hear the story of the Carrot-Tops.

Peter's father went on to tell him that they are not alive, at least not on earth, and that they were from a world the living call “Death”.

Peter stuttered and said, "Do you mean we're dead?"

"Yes, we're dead," Peter's father replied. He went on to tell Peter that they had been dead for years. He said they didn’t belong to this world. He told Peter the world they belonged to was called Baja, a place of mysticism and power, a place so beautiful, and yet so evil.

"Welllll, why aren't we there?" Peter asked his father, but his father could not do or say anything. He just hung his head down low and began to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Suddenly Peter's father parked the wagon on a hilltop way above the trees, where no one could see them; then he began to tell Peter why they were here on Earth.

"Well, son, many years ago I was one of the chosen ones to protect Baja and make sure that the city was preserved for all our generation, but I failed at my job."

Peter's father told him of how he was in charge of leading an army of men to get the eighth key. This key opens the door to the eighth elder of the world. The elders were in hibernation. When they awoke, they protected not only Baja, but also Earth.

He told Peter that he failed when he lost the key. Because he lost the key, the eighth elder was never awakened. The other seven went back into hibernation because they can only function with each other; all eight have to be awake at the same time.

"Well, why did you lose the key?" Peter asked.

His father told him that the key was so powerful there was a rule to never touch it with your bare hands. He did anyway, and the key gave him so much power that he could not handle it. His hands began to burn and his skin began to rot and fall to the floor.

When he woke up, the key was gone and Baja was at risk. The remaining elders were very angry, and before they fell back into hibernation, they exiled Peter's father and mother from Baja. Peter's mother jumped in and began to tell Peter that she loved his dad so much that she was willing to take banishment with him, and one day their names would be cleared.

She also let Peter know that his father was being very modest and taking the entire blame. She said what really happened was that Peter's dad, Sam, was forced to touch the key by his brother, Marcus. Instead of Sam turning his brother in to the elders, he took the blame for something that was not his fault alone.

Jane told her son that Sam's brother was evil and mean; but Sam didn't like to admit the fact that his brother set him up. Suddenly the wagon was quiet. No one made a sound.

Peter's dad began to look back at Peter in shame, but Peter jumped up and gave him a big hug.

Sam was relieved. In a trembling voice, he looked into Peter's eyes and asked, "So you aren't ashamed of us?"

"No!" Peter replied.

Peter then asked his father about the wagon flying.

"Oooohh! Yes, son, I will tell you about the flying wagon."

They all began to laugh. Sam told Peter that in Baja everyone has some special ability, from making objects fly to growing large fruits, vegetables and plants.

Peter suddenly looked at his mother and figured out that she was the one growing all the fruits and vegetables on their plantation.

She smiled with her cherry lips and said, "I was gifted with the green thumb."

Peter laughed and told his parents he was finally free. His parents looked bewildered and asked him what he meant. He told them that he knew now why he was different from the other children at school. Peter also told his parents he had something to show them.

"Up here?" Jane asked.

"Yes, come out of the wagon," Peter replied.

Peter's mom and dad looked at each other in amazement and shock as they jumped out of the wagon. Peter held his hand to the ground and began to shake. Suddenly a big hole appeared in the ground. The hole was so big that it swallowed up the trees. Peter looked at his parents with pride. They looked back at him in amazement.

"Why didn't you tell us, Peter?" his parents asked.

"Well, I did not want you to be ashamed of me. The kids at school were already calling me 'weird' and 'strange’. I didn't want to disappoint you.”

"Never," said his father.

Jane asked Peter how long had he been keeping this secret from them, and Peter told them, for many years. He did it only because he was afraid of his own powers. That was a great power for a little boy to handle. Peter's parents knew that there must be something extra special about their son.

Their brains began to think of what all of this could mean; the wheels in their heads were turning so fast you could see smoke coming out of their ears. But nevertheless, Peter was happy that his conscious was clear, his face began to get some color and his eyes began to twinkle.

The family decided it was time to go home, and as soon as the rooster crowed in the morning, it would be time to see the Oracle. Off the hilltop they went, swaying through trees and mountains. Everyone had had a rough day, but now it seemed to be a day of joy and happiness.

Peter hung his head out of the wagon and began to feel the breeze on his face.

"Be careful,” said Peter's mother.

"I will," he replied.

All that afternoon, they went flying over rivers, lakes and streams. They even passed a drunk sleeping under a tree. The man jumped up and began to scream, "The sky is falling!" He ran through the village telling the people, but no one believed him since he was the town drunk.

Peter and his family continued to ride the high hills and mountains until it got dark so they could return home without being seen. He was so excited that he had finally figured out why he was so different than the other children.

As for his parents, they were relieved that they were not hated by their son, but they were also worried about his tremendous gift. It was a gift that no child should have, but they did not ruin the moment by being sad. They remained happy and upbeat all the way home.

As nightfall grew, Peter and his parents arrived home. Nothing was the same anymore; their house began to look old and rotten. They could see the tiniest imperfections, and they knew in their hearts that it was time to leave.

Peter was so excited he could not sleep, but his parents forced him into bed with the hopes of seeing a land the living only dreamed about. Peter asked question after question as he drifted off to sleep. His parents only smiled as they rubbed his orange hair and tucked him tightly into bed.

But as midnight approached, his parents found themselves pacing the floor. They discussed how long they had been away from Baja and how they would be accepted after 10 years. It was very stressful for them; their faces became blank and sad. Finally, they went to bed anticipating a meeting with the Oracle, the only one who could get them back into Baja.

Chapter 2

Meeting the Oracle

As the rooster sounded his alarm, Peter was the first one up and making breakfast for the entire family. He was so excited to meet with the Oracle, but his parents weren't. They never let Peter see the fear on their faces, and went about their morning as usual.

Sam was out in the plantation talking to the workers, letting them know that they might be gone for a long time. He told them he would sign his will over to one of his trusted workers and his family. He and the worker he picked began to debate back and forth about taking over his land. The worker told him that he was a poor Negro, and no colored man had ever owned anything this successful without being hung. Still, Sam insisted.

He gave his worker, Mr. Jones, a bag of magical seeds and told him to spread them along the property line and he would be protected. Sam let Mr. Jones know that he chose him because he was one of the workers who was always truthful, fair and honest with everyone. Though Mr. Jones was afraid, he took the bag of seeds and hid them in his pocket.

Sam patted Mr. Jones on the shoulder and let him know that everything would be all right, and that he would be watching. As Sam finished his business affairs, he went into the house where his wife and Peter were waiting on him to eat breakfast.

No one said a word. Reality was finally setting in on what they were about to do. Everyone took deep breaths and began to eat very slowly. Finally, Peter started a conversation and asked his parents what to say to the Oracle.

Sam replied, "Don't say anything until you're asked."

As breakfast finished, Sam began moving things around the house telepathically. Socks were flying through the air, and even Jane's underwear got caught on the lamp shade! She was so embarrassed; she jumped up and snatched them off the shade with a smirky grin at her husband.

Once Sam got everything packed, they walked around the house touching and feeling everything they would miss, but Peter didn’t. He was so excited that he could hardly wait to leave. He began to pull his parents by the hand urging them to leave, but they were filled with so much emotion, they had to take a seat.

As they were saying their goodbyes, Peter was already in the wagon ready to go. After a long time of waiting, he yelled from the wagon, "Come on!"

Then the door slowly opened and his parents walked out. Peter could tell Jane had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and swollen; her nose was red and her face was disheveled.

They jumped into the wagon and said goodbye to their workers. Sam pulled Mr. Jones aside and told him to never let anyone know that he had gone, and if anyone asked, to tell them that he had some business in Paris he was taking care of. Mr. Jones nodded, and they were on their way.

They made sure not to look back at the home and friends they were leaving behind to go to an uncertain place where they might no longer be welcome. The carriage ride was long and hot. Everyone was sweating.

"Are we there yet?" Peter asked.

"Soon, son," his father replied.

As the Carrot-Tops left their plantation, they were hailed and greeted by all the people of the town. Sam was sad to leave his home, but what he was doing was for his family, not for himself. Suddenly the carriage turned off a dark road.

It was so pitch black Peter became afraid and yelled out for his father, "Father!"

"It's okay," Sam replied, letting his son know that he was right there with him.

Then there was light again, a big burst of brightness. It was so bright they could hardly keep their eyes open. Then it went dim, and Sam told Peter and Jane to get out of the wagon, and to follow him closely, out of the bright light.

There was a beautiful forest like nothing Peter had ever seen before -- the plants were moving and talking. Peter was startled for a minute but then regained his composure.

"Good day!" yelled the plants.

Peter stopped to inquire about the plants, but his mother pulled his hands away telling Peter that they had important work to do. Even the animals in the forest were glad to see visitors.

Then a rabbit the size of a wagon came up to Sam and shouted, "Well, well, well! The traitor is back!" with a smirk on his face.

"You're gonna get it now!" a squirrel replied.

Sam did not let it bother him. He kept walking to his destination, but Peter was amazed at the beauty and wonder of the forest.

"Pay them no mind, Peter. They all were once our friends," Jane said, but Peter was not listening. He was too in tune with the singing waterfall.

He watched as the waterfall turned into different shapes, from a woman, to a dog, to a big roaring lion. This was all exciting to him.

"Where are we?" Peter asked his father.

"This is the portal to Baja" Sam replied.

"We're moving on,” said Jane.

Peter replied, "I am so excited to see home, somewhere that I fit in."

As they walked the long forest pathway, there was a cottage made of golden bricks and rubies, and birds flapped their wings vigorously when they saw Peter and his family coming. The tension in Sam's eyes showed fear as he came to the gate of the cottage. He hesitated to knock.

His hands began to sweat and shake out of control, so Peter walked in front of him and knocked on the door. Suddenly, the door opened, but there was no one to greet them! They walked in quietly and stood in the middle of the hallway.

"Oracle, it is I, Sam. I have brought my son to you with a gift so powerful; it must be a sign from the elders."

Suddenly a burst of fire came from the chimney, and swirled across the room knocking down Peter and his father. "Why have you come back? You have brought nothing but shame on our kind."

As Sam began to answer, a woman appeared in the form of a snake with eight arms. Her fingers were covered with gold and diamond rings that glistened in the light. She had a crown on her head that was 9 feet tall, and in that crown were souls crying to be free. They were in a wax-like bubble.

The crown was made of gold and silver with hieroglyphic writings on the top and sides. The oracle was a 12-foot snake, dressed in the finest of linens. Her upper body was human, and the lower body a snake with a huge tail and a long rattler. Her fingernails were long and made of ivory like an elephant's tusk, but the most irritating thing was that she made this hissing noise that pierced their eardrums.

But, oh, what a beautiful creature! Her skin was like white flour. Her lips were like rose petals, and she had the most adorable face they had ever seen.

Sam quickly bowed down to the Oracle, asking her to hear him out. Jane did not bow down. She refused; telling the Oracle that she knew Sam was set up and did nothing to stop it, and now wanted to treat them like peasants.

The Oracle quickly threw a small fireball at Jane. She quickly ducked her head and the fireball missed her face by an inch! Peter quickly defended his mother and created a massive hole in the center of the house where the Oracle was standing.

Suddenly the Oracle fell down the hole, letting out a hideous scream as she fell.

"Peter, what have you done? That was the Oracle!" said Peter's father.

"Served her right!" shouted Jane.

Suddenly a hand came out of the darkness and the Oracle crawled back to the top of the hole.

"What a powerful boy! I must speak with him," said the Oracle.

"No! Only if you get us back into Baja," Jane replied.

The Oracle hesitated and said, "Very well, but you are on your own once in Baja. You and your husband are hated by many. They blame both of you for the fall and destruction of Baja."

Then the Oracle went to Peter and told him to rise up and say nothing. Suddenly he levitated off the ground and floated toward the Oracle. As she placed Peter in her oversized hands, she closed her eyes and saw into the future. In her vision, Peter had a crown on his head. His father and mother were old and gray, but they also had crowns on their heads. The Oracle saw a great battle were Peter defeated the evils that plagued Baja.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and told the Carrot-Tops that they must head straight to Baja right away.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

The Oracle told Sam that his child, Peter, was the savior of Baja. Sam and Jane were in disbelief and began to laugh and cry with joy.

"Our son has saved us!" They cried, and threw Peter in the air and twirled him around in circles.

"Go now," said the Oracle. “I will make a way for you to travel. Tell no one of this secret or his life will be in danger.” The Oracle repeated it to Sam and Jane over and over, until they got it in their heads. "Trust no one until they have earned your trust!" shouted the Oracle and off they went.

As they were leaving, the Oracle pointed the Carrot-Tops toward the kitchen, where hot food was waiting for them to carry on their long journey. The Oracle let them know that they must walk on foot and only use the resources of the forest. "Hurry along, Baja awaits you," the Oracle replied over and over again until her voice slowly disappeared.

Peter was very excited to go on an adventure. His feet began to swing back and forth, and his eyes lit up with excitement. Peter asked his father why was he so special.

Sam explained that after the eighth key was lost and the elders could no longer stay awake, no child born would be blessed with a gift, and in Baja everyone had gifts. After the evil curse, no child born in Baja was blessed with a gift or talent, and therefore Baja was at the mercy of the evil dwellers.

“But then you came along, Peter.” Sam looked loving in his son's eyes, “and all our fears and defeat seem to have dissolved away.”

Sam went on to say that years had passed without a child developing powers in Baja, and therefore there was no one to fight the evil spirits that came upon the land. He explained that Baja needed a new generation of fighters.

"So, yes, son; you are special,” Peter's father said, as the Carrot-Tops walked through the forest.

It was a magnificent experience. The birds began to fly overhead with their 10-foot wingspans and they sang, "The prince is coming, the prince is coming."

Peter was in awe of the birds’ beauty. Their wings were so long that he could see no end. Their tails curled up like the locks in a Southern belle’s hair. Their feathers were like a rainbow, every section of the birds were a different color. They flew in lines of five, giving shade to the Carrot-Tops.

On the ground, the flowers protruded out of the Earth at least 20 feet tall. They dropped down big petals covering the Carrot-Tops. Peter and his family just laughed and indulged in all the attention. Sam looked at his wife and told her how good it felt to be adored again, and how great it felt to be going back home.

The flowers danced in a synchronized routine. One by one they waltzed and turned. Their petals were so huge, they looked like ballroom gowns. The flowers were so tall that from way, way up above, they looked like humans dancing.

"What a wonderful sight to see!" Jane said.

The forest animals now were so much more welcoming of the Carrot-Tops than the first encounter, and they took great care of the Carrot-Tops. Suddenly a turtle came by and asked the Carrot-Tops if they wanted a ride. Peter jumped up and said yes, and they climbed in.

The turtle shell was so big it was the size of a wagon. The inside had carved-out windows; the seats were made of the finest gold threads, and the floor was padded with the softest cushions. It was like heaven. On the wall of the shell was a picture of a young prince with bright orange hair. Peter and his parents stared at it.

Rabbits came offering the family honey tea and crumpets. Oh! The rabbits were so excited that they could barely keep still to take the Carrot-Tops’ orders! Each one kept asking, "Could this really be the boy king?"

They zipped back and forth, running with the highest speed, bringing the family everything that they could possibly cook. First were the tea and crumpets, then sweet honey rolls. Next came roasted pig. Then they brought pork chops, steak, shrimp, fish and so forth until Sam told them lovingly to stop.

The poor rabbits were so out of breath that they collapsed on the floor. The Carrot-Tops laughed hysterically, until milk came out of their noses. Then the rabbits joined in on the fun.

"Oh, yes! This is our royal family," one rabbit said to another.

Peter looked out of the window and saw little elves waving and getting their first sneak peek at the boy prince.

"I see the word has spread," Jane said to Sam.

"Yes, indeed, my dear. The word has spread," Sam said.

One of the elves came to the window and took out a mirror device that glistened in the sun and captured a picture of the family, and then he ran off. The device mystified Peter. The handle was made of pure gold. It lit up with secret codes and had writing Peter had never seen before.

Peter could see himself in the image, but it was of something or someone he did not know. The image showed a young boy with a crown on his head, clothed in the finest attire. Then it was gone.

"Oh, don't worry, Peter. You will get to see them again," his mother said.

Peter was so mystified by the elves that he kept looking for them out of the window, but they were gone. Sam told his son that the forest of Baja was so mystical there wasn't enough time in death to discover it all.

"Why are we dead?" Peter asked his parents.

His parents said that everyone dies, and moves on to other worlds, according to their deeds on Earth. They said no one knows how many levels there are to death, but to be on a good aura, you must do good things before you move on. Sam went on to tell Peter that sometimes worlds collide causing a clash of auras; sometimes it's good and sometimes it's bad.

"Is that what happened to you, Father?"

"Yes," replied Sam, "I got caught up in the power of self and all the finer things that came with it. Because of this, I was sent back to the living, never to see Baja again."

Sam began to get teary-eyed, and Jane held his hand tightly and rubbed his shoulders, letting him know it was okay and they were on their way back home.

"Whatever you do, Peter, be a good person," said his mother.

"I will," Peter replied.

Suddenly the turtle made an announcement that he would be stopping for a rest, and Peter and his family could have a stretch. When the ride came to a complete stop, Peter jumped off, and his parents quickly followed.

There was a river made of dark chocolate next to them. Peter began to drink and drink until he saw a tree that produced strawberry cupcakes. He ran and plucked a few off, until the tree began to talk and it startled Peter.

"Wellllllll hello," said the tree in a deep voice.

Peter was too afraid to talk. He clutched his cupcakes and crawled back.

"Ha, ha, ha!" said the tree.

"Who are you?" Peter asked.

The tree told Peter he was just a tree, and it was his pleasure to serve him. Suddenly the branches on the tree turned into a face, one that was happy and jolly.

"I am so happy to be the first to serve the prince," the tree said in his husky voice.

Peter was amazed of all the wonders of the land great and small, from the tiny ants that lined the dirt path wearing their golden shoes on each leg, to the gigantic pelicans in the sky that flew people from destination to destination. It was such a wonderful sight to see a land of milk and honey that dripped from the leaves of the trees. Peter started to appreciate the world he was in. He really felt like he belonged, there were no regrets in him going there.

"Mother, Father! Come quick!" he called out.

Hs parents came running. Peter showed them the talking tree and the ants with golden shoes.

They cracked wide grins. "Yes, son, we know all about them. They are your family. Baja is your family," they both said together.

The tree just let out a big laugh, "Ha! Ha! Ha! Welcome to Baja, my Prince!"

Suddenly a horn sounded and the turtle let the Carrot-Tops know that he was almost ready to get back on the road again. Peter and his parents watched as the turtle got his shell washed by two octopuses, and then polished and shined by a herd of small spider monkeys.

"Oh, that feels good!" laughed the turtle, as the monkeys polished under his belly.

Rats and rabbits brought fresh food. One by one, the animals catered to the Carrot-Tops. Clean clothing and sheets for the long trip were hauled back and forth. There were five old lady rabbits taking the measurements of Peter and his family. They measured the Carrot-Tops from head to toe, back and forth. They went on, not saying a word; they were busy in their duties.

Chapter 3

The Journey to Baja

Sam was so reluctant to accept his new clothing; he had become very familiar with his overalls and old cap. Jane just laughed.

"Oh, honey, you are so set in your ways!" Jane stated.

Peter was glad to have new clothing, even new clothing made by a handful of rabbits.

As the turtle was on his last step of grooming, Peter watched as grasshoppers brushed and cleaned the turtle’s teeth. Soapy bubbles were splashing everywhere. Oh what fun it was for Peter! A place where he finally belonged; and a place he could really call home. The look of joy on his mother's face meant so much to Peter.

Then a loud horn blew. It was time to load up and leave. Back onboard, the Carrot-Tops were offered a fresh hot bath. Jane fixed Peter's bath first. As she made it of warm milk and bubbles, the bubbles began to sing to him as they floated in the air.

Jane watched as her son had the time of his life playing with the bubbles. Peter had so much fun that he didn’t want to get out of the tub. After a long time of trying to get him out, Jane took her bath, and then Sam followed shortly after. After the family was all tidied up, they were laced in the finest garments of gold silk and Egyptian fabrics.

"Supper is ready," one of the mice called out to the family.

But where could supper be? The inside of the turtle did not seem big enough for rooms and dining. But on the contrary, with the press of some golden symbols, the turtle turned into a mystical palace. The family was instructed to walk down a bright, colorful hallway, where the paintings on the walls began to talk and say “Hi” to them as they passed by. As Peter looked around in amazement, he laughed as two pictures of old ladies gossiped about the new arrivals; they pointed and stared.

As they came into the main dining area, a loud voice sounded from the line of servants. "I am Victor Caercio. I will be your main servant." But Victor was nothing more than a bossy cat who thought he was the best chef in Baja. With his Italian accent, he proceeded to tell the Carrot-Tops they were dining on the finest of everything.

Jane laughed and told Victor, “This is too fancy.”

"Nonsense, my queen," said Victor. "You will get the best of the best."

Jane smiled and let Victor do his job. With the snap of his paws, he ordered the servants around. But, oh, what a sight to see! They were twirling like a well-organized team, one got the forks and spoons, another tied the napkins, and another poured their drinks. What more could a family want than to be pampered like kings and queens?

The night's meal was a rack of lamb roasted on red scalloped potatoes, milk from the finest cow, and warm dinner rolls with mouthwatering honey butter. As the Carrot-Tops ate, a big screen suddenly appeared on the wall. It took up the entire dinning area wall space.

"What is that, Father?" Peter asked inquisitively.

"Oh, they are the scenes of Baja," Sam answered.

The entire family watched the screen as images of Baja were shown. There were temples of the elders covered in gold and silver with code writing going up and down the sides. The temples were so tall that they touched the heavenly sky. Then there were flying pelicans that took citizens about their daily work and play.

Peter was especially amazed when he saw a pelican taking kids to school. The pelican was built like a large vessel that held about 2,000 citizens. It was a gorgeous bird with a tail long like a whip. A long strand of hair protruded from the bird's head with colors of the rainbow, and like all creation in Baja, it had symbols of code going around its legs.

The huge bird had golden straps that ran across its nose, and some type of tag that hung from its tail. The kids on the pelican seemed to be having fun. Peter began to daydream of the way he would have fun once he get there, but no one was happier than Sam.

His orange hair began to stick up as if he had seen a ghost. He walked in front of the screen and began to slowly touch the images with his fingers. He stepped back in time to when he was a boy and had his first school ride. Then Sam broke down in tears.

Jane and Peter ran to his side telling him that it was okay, and they were home now. Victor the cat ordered the wait staff of mice to bring a chair. Quickly, they ran and picked Sam up off the floor. He had fallen to his knees as he reminisced about all the things he had lost. He clenched his fists, and vowed to regain all of his losses and the respect of the citizens of Baja. The wait staff of mice and other animals slowly began to clap, one by one, until the clapping could be heard loudly.

"My Lord, this is what we have been waiting for, for you to come back and save us," proclaim Victor.

The Carrot-Tops regained their composure, and began to eat their dinner again, but their eyes were fixed on the magical screen. Peter continually watched the screen as the food missed his mouth. The scenes he watched were of the land and the people of Baja. How friendly and happy they were. He watched as the kids slid down a long dinosaur's tail and had lots of fun. The land of Baja was clearly a fairy tale -- trees talked and walked, and children had rocks for pets and took them for walks.

"I want a pet rock, Mother!" Peter shouted with excitement.

"I will think about it," said Jane with a smile on her face.

Baja was so unforgettable -- waterfalls that changed colors, rivers and streams made out of milk and chocolate, rabbits and animals that walked, talked and lived like people. It was the one and only place Peter wanted to be.

"How much longer before we reach Baja?" Peter asked.

Jane replied, "One more day, son, and we're home."

Sam told Peter that Baja was a big place that was constantly growing, and the more it grew, the longer it took to reach home. He turned to Jane and noticed she was very sad. He asked what was wrong, and she said she hadn't seen her parents in years. She wondered what they would think, and if they would accept her and her family.

Sam comforted Jane and said, “We will deal with one thing at a time. Everything will be all right.”

As dinner was over, Victor the cat called to the wait staff to bring forth Miguel. He was introduced as the architect of Baja. With the stroke of his paintbrush and pencil, he could make anything come to life. The Carrot-Tops began to clap for Miguel. Gracefully, he accepted and began to draw on the walls. He drew a small tiny dragon with big black eyes. He graced the dragon with blue and white skin, and his long tail had white fluffy fur at the end. His ears pointed up to the ceiling. Peter was so excited to see the magic of the pencil. When Miguel was finishing drawing the dragon, it came to life and jumped into Peter's hands.

Oh, how excited Peter was! "Can I keep it, Mother?" he asked.

"Yes, you can. But remember, it is your responsibility to take care of it," Jane replied.

Peter couldn't thank Miguel enough. Miguel was so pleased and happy to serve the boy prince.

"I shall name it Dingo," said Peter, and Dingo ran into Peter's hand. Before long, they were on the floor playing. Dingo licked Peter with his purple and polka-dot tongue and began to wag his thick dragon tail. It was like Christmas morning to Peter.

Then Miguel came and sat by Jane with his pencil and paper. He drew a large bouquet of singing flowers, and when the last petal was drawn, the flowers came to life. The bouquet popped off the artist's canvas and into Jane's hands.

"What lovely flowers!" she said.

The minute Jane touched the flowers, they began to grow. That was Jane's gift -- a green thumb for all things in the garden. After the flowers grew to about four feet, they began to sing the sweetest melody and put Jane to sleep. She was at peace in a deep dream world.

Miguel then moved on to Sam. Sam said he didn't want anything, but Miguel knew when not to listen. Suddenly, Miguel began to draw, and it seemed to take forever. When he was finally done, he motioned Sam to come over and see his new gift.

As Sam came closer, he began to sigh. A beautiful piano caught his eye. The piano was made out of tortoise shell with hieroglyphic symbols on it. It also had jade and gold, and there was no other piano like it in the entire realm. Sam was excited and began to play. The keys were cut ivory and the legs looked like lion’s claws. Sam played the sweetest melody as everyone gathered around. Jane woke up to the beautiful melody, and walked over to her husband as he played his heart out.

"You never sounded better," Jane replied.

All the passengers of the ride listened intently as Sam played for hours. His music was so hypnotizing, and the sounds rolled off the keys like sap from a tree. When Sam was done, the entire room began to clap. Even the turtle that was transporting the family was impressed.

But, when Sam turned around, Miguel was gone. He didn't have a chance to thank him. Victor the cat told Sam Miguel's job was done and when his work was finished, he liked to move on.

Now it was time for bed, and Victor showed Sam and his family back to their rooms. These were rooms Miguel had made for them before he left. First stop was Peter's room. The room was huge with big oval mirrors that covered the walls.

Peter ran and looked into one of the mirrors. He could see different images. Some were scary, like a figure on a dark hill. Peter tried to make out the face of the figure, but a hat was hiding it. Peter watched in amazement as the image in the mirror came closer. Sam ran over to the mirror and threw a piece of cloth over it.

Sam told Peter, “Don't ever stare into the mirror for long or it will capture your soul. You will become a ghost, like what the living on Earth call a 'dead soul’.”

Sam warned Peter that some mirrors were dangerous to look in, and if he got caught staring too long, he would truly be dead. Sam then ordered Victor to remove the mirror and cover the rest of them. Victor had the servants remodel the room in a flash. The only thing Peter could see was the view outside as the turtle ride took them to their destination.

Peter's room had toys everywhere, from stuffed animals to robots, but what he liked most was that he had his friend Dingo with him. The room was painted in sugar paint in all different designs and colors. The walls were sweet to eat, or at least Dingo thought so, and he began chewing on the edges of the wall.

"Time for bed," Peter's parents said.

He jumped into bed with Dingo. The bed was huge -- it almost swallowed them up. The sheets were soft, and the pillows were huge, including some that were body length. After his night prayers, Peter was fast asleep in no time. He'd had a long day.

Now it was time for Sam and Jane to go to bed. Like Peter's room, theirs was huge, but it had no mirrors. It was made up for royalty. It took 100 little mice to pull the covers back and fluff their pillows. They put glasses of warm milk by the Carrot-Tops' bedside and left, one by one. The mice had looks of joy and determination in serving their king and queen well.

On the side of Sam's bed lay a golden chest filled with gold coins and precious gems. The glitter of the diamonds from the light caught his eye. He went toward the box and opened it. He ignored all the diamonds and gold and reached for a book that lay in the bottom of the chest.

As he grabbed hold of it, it opened, and there on the pages lay three passports to Baja, his, Jane's, and Peter's. Sam was amazed to see the details in the passports; everything was perfect, from their orange hair to their clothing. It was as if someone or something was expecting them in Baja.

The news had spread of their return, so Sam didn't want to let his guard down. In the back of his mind, he feared that someone would try to hurt Peter or worse, kidnap him. After all, there had not been a miracle child in 10 years, and only a handful of gifted children made it without being cursed for life.

As Sam began to think about the image his son had seen in the mirror, he became very scared. Sam was not taking any chances. He immediately called for Victor the cat by shaking the bell that was left on the side of their bed. When Victor arrived in his nightgown and long stocking cap hold a floating light, Sam asked him to have guards posted at Peter's door.

"Very well," Victor said. He then brought Sam a deck of royal cards. On them were different types of warriors. "Choose one, two or three," Victor said to Sam, and so he did. Sam walked with Victor to the hall so that Jane would not wake up and become worried.

In the hallway, Sam shuffled the cards, and as he shuffled in a fast motion, he could see the movements of the warriors. There was a knight that was armored from head to toe; he held a long silver sword. Then there was a barbarian who was not only big in size but very powerful. The last choice was a wizard dressed all in black that disappeared and then reappeared on the card.

These were the three Sam chose to protect his son. One by one, Sam said a spell, "Amenta, Labasa, Carmy," and the individual warriors popped out of the cards. Sam needed not say anything, they already knew their job. The three warriors stood by Peter's bedroom door at attention. They didn't move or blink, as they were steadfast in their protection of the boy prince.

"You've still got it!" declared Victor.

Sam just let out a big laugh and told Victor good night. As Victor went away, Sam glanced over his shoulder to see if the warriors were still at attention at Peter's door, and they were. They didn't move an inch or blink. There was no way anyone could get in that room.

Sam went to bed and had many nightmares. It was like whatever he dreamed came true. Sam dreamed of being kicked out of Baja for good and being turned down by the elders. Then his dreams switched and he saw himself and his family being hanged to death and then burned.

He awoke in a panic and ran to Peter's room. Everything was still safe; the warriors were still standing guard. Sam took a deep breath and began to relax, as he walked back to the room. He sat on the side of the bed, nervous about arriving in Baja the next day.

"What will people say? How will they treat us?" Sam talked out loud to himself.

All the commotion woke Jane up, and now both of them were up and worrying.

Then a loud voice echoed from the walls of the turtle. "I believe in you, Sam," the voice said.

Sam jumped up from the side of the bed. "Who are you?" he asked.

“It is I, the turtle; are you enjoying your ride?"

Sam was a little startled, but went on to answer the turtle anyway. Sam explained that he was very afraid of returning to Baja and that he and his family were at risk of disappointing the elders. The turtle comforted Sam and Jane telling them not to worry, and that everything would be okay.

“Besides,” he told them, “I will always be on your side.”

Sam and Jane went over and kissed the turtle walls as if they were kissing him. Then the two of them went off to sleep. There were no more nightmares, and everyone was fast asleep.

A giant alarm clock went off, waking up everyone on the ride. The clock was so huge, the bang made the entire ride shake back and forth. It had a big giant face and the hands were made of diamonds. "Wake up, wake up!" the clock shouted.

The servants jumped up, rushing to get breakfast ready for their royal family. Jane and Sam jumped out of bed to see what was going on. As Jane ran out of the room, and into Peter's room, she was startled by the three watchers. She ran back screaming through the hallway, and Sam came out to meet her.

"It's okay, honey," Sam said to Jane. "They are just here to protect Peter."

Jane's heart was beating so fast that she could not say or do anything but nod her head. The three protectors bowed down to Jane to show honor and respect. Sam explained to Jane why he requested protection for Peter. Immediately, Jane became worried. Sam assured her that everything was going to be all right; even though he didn't believe it himself.

http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Imaginary-Friends/Yolanda-Jackson/e/9781608620173/

Chapter One

Everyone had or has imaginary friends; what do yours tell you to do? Well, I’ll tell you about my friends. Back in the 1980's, I was living the worthless life of an abused child, one that society doesn’t care about. I was what they called poor white trash; my father was nowhere around and my mother was a whore and drug addict. Every night she would bring different men into the house, hoping to score enough money for a hit, and most of the time she would sell me to them. I was raped, beaten and molested, but she didn’t care; my innocence was making her rich. Instead of the men asking for her, they’d asked for me. Yes, I tried to fight back, but the men were too strong for me. I called out for my mother, but she ignored my pleas; she sat in the room and smoked her cocaine as the men had their way with me. She never came to check on me; she didn’t know if I was alive or dead before she set up another john. I begged her not to sell me anymore, but she didn’t care, that cocaine was more important to her than I was.

While the men were having their way with me; I began to blackout and go into a world that I called my own. I had to step out of reality in order to keep the little bit of life I had left in me. When my mother saw that selling me was a great idea, the best thing that had ever happened to her, she continued to do it more and more. I tried to run away, but was always caught. My mother began to lock me in the old cellar; it was damp and creepy, there was no light, no windows and every day was the same as night. I was afraid, I began to scream; the dark frightened me so terribly that I would wet my pants. No matter how often I wanted to stop from going to the bathroom on myself, I couldn’t. The fear was so deep; I could feel it in my bones. I begged my mother that I would do whatever she wanted, that I would be a good girl, but she never answered me; she left me in the basement for days, weeks, months.

The men would come down with a kerosene lamp and do their business with me. I got so sick of the abuse and the rapes that I began to talk to myself. I was trying to convince myself that it would be okay, that one day my mother would love me and make everything all right, but that day never came. I waited patiently; I closed my eyes and prayed for a miracle, and yet the miracle never came, it was always ‘in the works’.

I sat in the corner of the dark, damp cold cellar, crying my eyes out, wanting to be set free, wanting to be back upstairs with my mother. I was so afraid that I began to make up imaginary friends, a group of people that would love and protect me, a group of friends that would never let anything happen to me. As I sat there, the first friend I created was Johnny. He was a white guy with really blonde hair; dressed like a cowboy and always toted a gun in each of his holsters. Johnny was a cool cat that always told jokes, very sarcastic ones, and smoked the hell out of some cigarettes; he loved Marlboros. Even though it was dark, I could still see the creation of my friend in my mind, and I would stare into his blue eyes, like a damsel in distress, and hope that Johnny would save me.

Then my little fantasy would be over, and I’d come back to reality. But, when the memories of the rapes and abuse got to be too much for me to handle, I’d make Johnny appear in my mind to help me, and then he’d disappear. Until one day, or night, I never could tell because I was locked in the fucking cold dark cellar, sitting there fully awake, I began to smell cigarette smoke! At first I thought I was still in my fantasy world, but I wasn’t; I remembered waking myself from my fantasy. Then I got scared; could Johnny really be alive? Could I have the power to raise my thoughts from the dead? Could my fantasy come to life?

Well, it did! While sitting in the corner, I could feel the soft clouds of smoke grace my face, and from a distance I could see a red light in the background. I was afraid and began to move around in the dark, trying to make my imaginary friend go away. I covered my eyes with my hands; when suddenly I felt a soft touch pull my hair. I was so afraid to turn around; I kept my eyes closed and counted to ten, hoping that whatever I had created would go away. But it didn’t; it came closer and closer, until I was forced to open my eyes.

I screamed as I saw this figment of my imagination come to life. I screamed and screamed, but no one could hear me; there was a party going on upstairs and the music was too loud. I screamed so much that I lost my voice, and Johnny just stood in the corner, smoking his cigarettes, laughing at me.

"Dude, chill out," he said.

But, I was in a state of shock; I had just been fucking scared shitless because my imagination had come to life, and this shit was scary. It took hours for me to calm down, but when I did, Johnny was still standing in the corner, only this time he was playing with his gun, twirling and spinning it around his fingers like a toy. He glowed in the dark and I got a better look at his face; he was perfect, just like I had created him, but his blue eyes glowed a faint red and that was disturbing. Nevertheless, I was happy to know that I had a friend to be with me and chase out the bad guys. Johnny pulled out a deck of old cards, I could tell that they had been used before, from the wear on the back of the cards, and in the light of his glow, we played go fish and memory match.

Johnny always let me win; he was the perfect man, he was the father I could only dream of having. He was also a great storyteller; he told me of back in the old days how he used to rob banks and could outrun the sheriff of the town, and of days spent sleeping on the open range and getting run off the land by the owners. These stories, to me, were very comforting and relaxing. For the first time in months, I was able to fall off asleep without a care in the world; for the first time I was not afraid to sleep alone, the cellar never frightened me anymore. Johnny was here to save me and protect me from all the evil men that had hurt me.

I could see him pacing the floor at night, he was talking with someone, but I couldn’t see who that was. I didn’t care, I was happy to have peace of mind and my own bodyguard, but I was concerned that Johnny was talking to someone or something, and whatever it was, it was a heated conversation. All I could see were Johnny’s lips moving and he kept looking back over his shoulder at me. I overlooked his mischievous ways and began to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time I could close my eyes without the fear of finding a strange man on top of me. With Johnny there, I was completely safe, nothing could hurt me ever again. Johnny was my hero, he was always there, but seemed occupied, as if something else required his attention. But, I didn’t mind, as long as I got peace and quiet.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming down the cellar stairs. A voice shouted out, "You little bitch, where are you? Come and play with daddy."

I quickly ran behind Johnny to protect me and he didn’t let me down.

Out of the darkness, Johnny approached the john and said, "Now, that's no way to treat a young lady."

For a minute, I didn’t think that the two would be able to see each other; after all, Johnny was just my imagination. But, something strange happened, they could both see each other, and the john became very afraid.

"Who the hell are you? I paid for her first," shouted the john at Johnny.

"Well, I’m her new best friend; and your worst nightmare," said Johnny.

The john pushed Johnny out of the way and headed toward me, groping my chest and private parts. Out of the blue, Johnny began to shoot his gun at the john over and over again; it seemed like Johnny was never going to stop. Finally, I went over and prevented him from putting another bullet in the john. At first, I was a little terrified, but it served that john right; I was young enough to be his daughter and he was paying my mother to sell me to him. From the glow off of Johnny, I could see the blood splatters all over the cellar walls, I could see the guy’s head full of bullet holes and his eyes rolled back and facing the heavens.

For once in my life, I felt so powerful and unafraid. Johnny loved it too, he began to kiss and caress his gun; then he took his old handkerchief and wiped the bloodstains off. Johnny wanted to do it again, he wanted to kill, he loved the idea of killing. I told him that we had to get to the top of the stairs and escape, but he seemed reluctant to go up there. I let him know that it would be all right; then he confided in me that when grown ups are around; kids tend to forget about their imaginary friends.

I said, "Oh no, not me I’d never forget about you, I love you!"

Johnny just smiled, giving me a soft peck on the cheek and held my hands; his eyes began to turn red again, and although it frightened me, I pretended it didn’t exist because I wanted him around, the first man in my life that never wanted anything from me. Johnny was the perfect gentleman and I was willing to overlook his faults. My gut was telling me that something was wrong, but for whatever reason, I ignored my gut feeling and began to enjoy the pleasure of revenge.

Before we went upstairs, Johnny told me that we had to get at least four more friends. He let me know that I had the power to conjure up anything I wanted, and in order for me to be totally safe I had to kill all of those evil people upstairs, and all throughout the world. At first it didn’t sound right, especially when his eyes began to glow red again. When Johnny saw me thinking too hard, he reminded me how he had protected me, and how, if I had many more imaginary friends, I could be protected for life. The offer sounded good, and I jumped on board; besides, what could go wrong with just a few more imaginary friends? Not only would I be safe, but I could help other abused children that were in the same situation. So, for about an hour, I conjured up images of the perfect friends that I’d want to save and protect me.

First, I closed my eyes and said, "Samson, come forward."

And, he did. I could hear his huge footsteps in the background. I slowly opened my eyes, and saw my imagination come to live. Samson was a huge black gorilla, at least nine feet tall and over a ton. He had the biggest brown eyes, and his coat was so soft; I just ran up and hugged him tightly. At first, he didn’t move or make any loving motions toward me, but then Johnny spoke up.

"Yo, Samson, you big ape, give the little girl a hug."

Suddenly Samson warmed up and hugged me with his huge paw-like hands. That was the softest coat I had ever felt. But, as I was excited to meet another one of my imaginary friends, Johnny was pushing me to make more.

He kept on telling me, "We need at least two more."

So, then I conjured up Emily. She was very spooky, her skin was a pale ashen color, and she looked as if she’d been dead for years! She was really skinny and limber, the same age as I was, but she was a little shy; her long black hair covered one side of her face. I finally built up enough nerve to approach her.

I called out, "Emily!"

She just stood there like a zombie, slowly moving in an awkward fashion. Her legs and arms looked as if they were broken, but that was just the way she moved and walked; like an animal on all fours. Finally, when I called to her again, she answered with saliva coming out of her mouth. I went over and hugged her, but I could feel the evil coming from inside her. Something just wasn’t right, but I wanted to be free so bad that I once again overlooked all of the common sense that Jesus had given me.

And, last but not least, I created an old man named Walter. I liked to call him Sir Walter; he was nicely dressed, always in a white tux, and with dark shades on. He was at least seventy years old and carried an old wooden cane. I loved Walter’s silver hair and I made him to help me keep the others in line. But, what was disturbing about Walter was that he had no eyes, and worms lived in the socket. These worms were Walter’s friend; he wouldn’t let me take them out, he loved those worms like pets.

Once I had all of my friends together in one room, they began to whisper to each other, as if they had known one another for years. I told them to stop it; I didn’t like being left out. They all apologized in sneaky voices, but I was just glad that they had; for once someone said that they were sorry for something they’d done to me. Now it was time to take revenge on my mother and all of her friends. We walked up the cellar steps like a big bad gang.

After Samson tore down the locked door, for the first time in my life, I had all the confidence I needed. Once I made it to the top, I could hear the loud music, and I could smell the drugs in the air. Anyone who wasn’t having sex was snorting cocaine.

"Lil girl, go back in your cave," shouted one of my mother's friends.

I became very angry and told Emily to scare the daylights out of her. I watched as Emily crawled on top of her. As the girl began to scream, Emily put her entire hand down the girl’s throat and ripped out her vocal cords. Blood went everywhere. The music was so loud that no one could hear her. Even though it was a bit gross, I loved it. I began to enjoy someone else’s pain, the same way they had enjoyed mine.

Now it was payback time. I ordered Samson to go through the house and smash anything he wanted, kill as many as he saw fit. He was happy; a big smile came over his face. He began to pound his chest and bellowed with a loud roar, I had to cover my ears because it was so loud. Off Samson went, smashing everything in the house, putting huge holes in the walls. I could hear the people screaming and falling over each other, most of them thought they had a buzz from the cocaine, but little did they know that it was real. Many of them began to run, but Samson threw them against the walls like rag dolls. I could see people flying through the air; everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I was guarded by my four friends, I was untouchable.

Samson went through the house like a whirlwind, ripping electric cords out of sockets, tearing down ceiling fans, and knocking over television sets. No one was safe in the house, and that was the way I liked it; because I was never safe in my own home, no one else should be either. I saw Samson pick up one man and break him in two, his body’s top half went one way and the bottom the other. I watched as Samson pulled out his spine and threw it against the wall.

Then, as one man tried to escape, Walter tripped him with his cane so Samson could catch him. The more the people screamed, the more pleasure I got from watching their deaths. For the first time in my life, I was in control; no one would be able to hurt me again. While Samson was destroying the house, and Emily scared people, I sent Johnny to execute as many people as he wanted. His eyes lit up, and before I could say go, Johnny was gone. I could hear the gunshots in the air, the sounds of dead bodies plunging to the floor and the wicked laugh of Johnny. I didn’t care; I wanted to let him have all the fun he wanted.

Walter stayed constantly by my side, nagging me about how we had to clean up and get rid of the bodies. He was more the mother hen, making sure we all did what we were suppose to. Blood was everywhere; one wall looked as if someone had painted it red from all of the blood splatters. Then, as Walter was giving me my chore list, I heard my mother's voice, she was begging for her life. She was in the kitchen on her knees asking Johnny to forgive her, begging and pleading for her worthless life. She turned and looked at me, as if I was supposed to help her; after all she had done to me, she wanted me to save her.

"You have to be kidding," I said.

But she continued to beg. I then had the brightest idea; I called for Samson to come into the kitchen. When he showed up, I told him to make a hole in the wall and stick my mother in it. Johnny tied her hands and legs, and then I called Emily to tear out her voice. Emily came quickly, stuffed her hand into my mother's throat and ripped out her vocal cords. I could see my mother tremble as she held onto her throat, blood beginning to fill her airways, and I watched her slowly die, but that was not the end to her torture. I had the walls of the house sealed up.

All through the night, the five of us placed the dead bodies in the walls, and to make sure they didn’t stink, we wrapped them in sheets with sweet smelling incense. For two days, we cleaned the house and hid the bodies in the walls, until the house was like new. There were no signs of there ever being any killings or even someone living there. I was very proud of what I had done, the world was now a safer place with my mother and her friends gone, but there was lots more to do; there were many more children like me to saved.

I felt like an agent of revenge, making all the wrongs right. Not one day went by that I was regretful, I wasn’t sorry that my mother was dead, she deserved everything she got. She left me to suffer at the hands of her friends, now I hoped she was in hell suffering too. As days and weeks went by, I was having a blast with my imaginary friends. Walter would cook and Samson would eat most of the food. We sat at the table like a family; I even took them outside to play. Johnny loved the rural outdoors; he said it reminded him of his old west days.

I’d play with my friends, and children would laugh and call me a freak as they passed by; it seemed no one could see my friends but me. The children would run away from me or walk on the other side of the street. I didn’t care, I loved the world I was in; somehow my mind didn’t conform to reality, I was always in a dream. One day, the children were coming home from school and Samson and I were playing in the front yard.

One kid yelled out, "You fucking freak!"

Something inside of me just snapped. I told Samson to go and get that kid. He wasted no time charging after the kid like a wild animal. Finally, I could see the fear on the kid's face; the boy turned pure white. I laughed hysterically, I couldn’t stop; it seemed so funny to me, even when Samson bit off his head with one chop. Blood spurted everywhere, and because we were in a rural town, there was no one around. I watched as Samson swallowed the boy's head and then regurgitate it back up, that was so cool to me. The boy's body kept walking on its own, and I let it walk for hours in the back yard. As the blood drained from the neck we even played ring around the neck to see who could get three of their rings around it as the body walked without a head. Of course, Johnny won, followed by Emily. We had a blast, until there was a knock on the door. Samson grabbed the child and placed his body in the cellar and put its head in the outdoor septic tank.

I let Walter answer the door, because he was the only one suitable, most of us had blood all over our clothes and hands. At the door stood the sheriff; he asked questions about a missing boy. Walter played it smooth, he denied everything, he’d never seen a child, and told the officer that no children stopped at this house because of his sick daughter, that every child in the area was afraid of her.

The officer agreed and said, "How true you are."

Walter gave him a fake smile and the officer went on his way; he was one of those dumb officers that never paid attention to his surroundings. Because, if he had, he would have noticed the bloody handprints on the side of the house where he was standing, less than a foot away from him. I began to laugh, law enforcement was a joke, and we could go on killing for years without anyone ever noticing anything. As the police officer pulled away, I suddenly saw him stop the car, as if he was going to turn around. I began to get a little worried; then he got out of the car to shut the trunk, he had accidentally left it open and it was flapping in the wind.

I smiled and said to myself, What a stupid cop. Then I went on my way, cleaning the blood from the side of the house, and then retrieved the boy's body from the cellar.

Suddenly, Johnny said, “What is your name, and what shall we call you?”

For a second, I paused and realized that my mother never took the time to teach me my name; I was always called "hey you", "asshole" or "bitch". I had no answer for Johnny. I was so sad to realize that I didn’t have a name. I quickly ran into my mother's bedroom and began to search for anything about who I was, where I was born, or who I really belonged to. I found nothing, not even a baby picture, no diaries; nothing related to my birth, until I went to the back of her closet and pulled out a yellow envelope. On it was written "my worst nightmare". I opened it, and inside were pictures all tore up into tiny little pieces, with a note saying that she’d never wanted me, she wanted to kill me, but her heart wouldn’t let her do it. So, to take revenge on her heart, she’d abuse me until the pain she felt from being raped by her father was gone.

My mother was raped by her own father and I was the product of that! I guessed that's what led her to prostitution and drugs. The letter went on to say that she tried many times to kill me, whether it was holding my head underwater or kicking me down the stairs when I was younger, but for some reason I wouldn’t die. I was like a black omen to my mother; she hated every fiber of my being. One thing she mentioned that was strange was that every time she tried to kill me, a bright white light would appear. I asked Walter what that meant, and he told me it was them trying to protect me. They needed me alive so they could stay alive. He said that every abused or neglected child was so badly damaged mentally that they formed imaginary friends like him, Johnny, Emily and Samson. Without an abused child, or a mentally disturbed person, they would also die. Well, I promised Walter that I wouldn’t let them die, I would never leave them.

Emily crawled on the bed next to me. "How about we name you baby doll?"

"I like it," I said to Emily.

She smiled and crawled back off of the bed. I ran to the stove and burned all of my mother's papers; I was upset and angry that she hadn’t cared enough for me to even take the time to give me a name. But, who cared, I had my imaginary friends and that’s all that mattered. I was something to them, and they were something to me. Then Johnny came into the kitchen with excitement on his face, even as I finished burning the letters.

"Men are at the door with a few women, and they are calling out for your mother."

I quickly ran to the window and took a peak; they were nothing more than my mother's crack friends and her johns. I told Walter to get the door, and then move so that they couldn’t see him. He did so and then vanished through the walls. I could still see his outline; I knew that he was there watching and protecting me. My mother's crack friends came in, they smelled like booze and their clothing was filthy; all of them gave off a terrible odor. They came in, stumbling and making themselves at home.

"Where’s that sweet young thing of yours?" shouted one of the johns.

He was talking about me. I had watched as this man raped me over and over, while my mother stood and watched. I told Emily to go and scare the shit out of him. She crawled toward him with her cripple-like body. I watched as she caressed his penis. He loved it; he never looked down to see who was doing it.

"You like that, baby?" said Emily.

"Oh, yes I do!" said the john.

When he finally looked down, he saw Emily's ghost-like appearance and he began to scream, he screamed so hard that his vocal cords burst in his throat and he began to drown in his own blood. Then Emily ripped his penis out and took it to the bathroom to flush it down the toilet. The john shivered in pain, he couldn’t talk; he felt what I was feeling back when he was raping me and I couldn’t scream or I would be beaten or raped even harder.

I ordered Samson to place the body in the walls of the house. He wasted no time picking up the john, who was still alive, and pushed him into the opening in the walls. I saw the john screaming, begging for my help; it felt good not being the powerless one, it felt good to see someone else beg me for mercy. Finally, I was getting my revenge; I couldn’t wait any longer on the Lord, I had to take matters into my own hands.

Then I ordered Emily into the next bedroom, where some more of my mother’s girl friends were having a ball smoking a line of crack. I sat by the door in the hallway thinking, do I really want to kill them or not? I saw the way they wasted their lives, smoking balls of crack one after the other. I came to the decision that I would let them go, but when I came into the room and asked them to leave, they laughed at me over and over again. The laughter was so wicked that it pierced my heart, for some reason I just couldn’t take the laughter any more, and it hit my emotions so hard that I began to sweat. Beads of sweat ran down my face, the palms of my hands became wet; soon I had the urge to kill them both. I ordered Johnny to kill them, he loved shooting his gun, and he loved killing, this was a piece of cake for him.

Johnny jumped on the bed and began to pump the ladies’ bodies with bullets. I watched as they tried to leave and were blocked at the doorway by Emily and Walter, they loved to see death themselves, but the bullet noise was too much for my ears, I had to leave the room. From the kitchen, I could hear the ladies screaming and calling out for help, but there was no one to help them, they were way out in the country where houses were far apart. This was hillbilly country. I could hear Samson cracking the bodies of the ladies, getting them ready to be put into the walls.

Walter and I had a ritual; we would bathe the dead bodies, and embalm them like the Egyptians did their dead. To me, this was funny and exciting at the same time. One by one, Samson crushed the bones until they couldn’t be crushed anymore, and then handed the dead over to Walter and me. We prepared a special bath, Emily cleaned up the blood; sometimes I would catch her licking the walls that were covered with blood, and I would have to spank her like a little child. But, we were a family, I was the head of the household and in charge; we ate as a family, we laughed as a family, but most importantly we lived happily like a family.

After the house was clean from all of the killings, I noticed that we were running out of food. Feeding four people and Samson was starting to be a strain, but ultimately, I didn’t mind; they were my protectors and I was in charge of taking care of them. So, I told them we would go to the store and shop. First of all, I had a little money that my mother had left behind, and the store was just a small corner market that operated on credit. Walter drove the raggedy old pickup trunk that one of the johns had left behind, and off we went. For the first time in months, I was leaving the house; the sun looked so bright and the sky was so clear. I felt relaxed and happy; I had everything a girl could want, all the way to the store I kept my head out the window like a dog, wanting to see everything.

My life finally seemed to make a little sense, I was happy and so were my imaginary friends, but the more I kept them around, the more they became real. I noticed this when Walter stopped for gas; it seemed as if people could see him, but not the others.

When I asked why that was, all Walter could say was, "One at a time."

So I accepted that and thought to myself, I’ll have a real family in a few more months, every one of my friends will be alive and live among the living.

Well, we made it to the store and we began to pick out our favorite foods. Emily loved jelly; I got her every kind imaginable. We got tons of bread and meat for Samson, noodles and pancakes for Johnny and all Walter liked was tea and soups. I was like a kid in a candy store; I got everything that I ever wanted, candies and all.

"Not too much, you’ll get a bellyache," said Walter.

Suddenly, the owner came over and said, "Who are you talking too?"

I said, "None of your damn business!"

The owner grabbed me by my shirt collar, and suddenly Emily and Samson attacked him. Samson broke his neck while Emily pulled out his heart and stuffed him into a freezer. I thought it was hilarious, but it was time to go before someone saw us. We quickly filled up the truck with all the food we could fit; we had at least five shopping carts of food.

"Wheeeeeeeee, that was a rush," proclaimed Johnny.

He was happy, and so was everyone else; it was as if we had just robbed a bank. Samson wanted to take the body home, but it was too much baggage. I told him that next time we would. Then Samson smiled and was happy again. I reached into a shopping bag and pulled out a carton of milk. As I was drinking from it, I noticed that a reward was posted for the missing child that we’d killed. I just laughed and showed it to everyone. After everyone got a sip of the milk, we threw the carton out the window, not caring about what we’d done. Why should we care when no one ever cared about us?

Once we were almost home, we saw a massive search party looking for the same child that we’d killed. Searchers were handing out flyers and newspaper clipping with pictures and a reward. We took the flyer like we cared and once down the road we balled it up and threw it out the window. I began to laugh hysterically, for some reason this shit was funny to me. That boy would have been an evil person and I’d saved society from his reign.

As soon as we got home, we unloaded our loot. We were like wild dogs, we wanted to eat everything first, until Walter, who I called ‘mother hen’, told us only to eat a little so we wouldn’t get a bellyache. We all pretended to listen, and as soon as he turned his back, we were pigging out. Emily took a whole jar of strawberry jelly and ran off to her hiding spot. I was glad to see her happy, she was like the sister I’d never had. Samson ate the raw meat, which was totally gross and disgusting, but I just loved him, so no matter how gross or strange it was, I overlooked most of what he and my other three friends did, because I was once considered strange and unlovable.

And yet, they all loved me. All that night we pigged out and had a blast; we ate ice cream and watched cartoons. It was like having a day that everything went well. My life was perfect, I didn’t care about anything anymore; I was my own person.

Chapter Two

After the night of fun, early the next morning, there was a knock on the door and a few sheriff’s cars were outside. I opened the door as if I had no idea of what was going on.

"Good morning, little girl, where’s your mother?" said the sheriff.

I responded, "She went away for the day."

The sheriff looked worried. "Well, we think there’s a killer running loose, so keep your door locked."

I was so humble and polite; I nodded, and said, "Okay, sir, I’ll do just that."

But, I was laughing inside, this was funny to me. For once, the public was afraid of me and I wasn’t afraid of them. It was as if I was having a major overhaul inside of me; not only was I becoming stronger, I was braver and my self-esteem was at an all-time high. I could see the police cars going by. My friends and I just looked out the window and smiled.

The police were just asses, they didn’t know what to do, and for this being a small town, they sure didn’t have the resources to fight any type of crime. Soon there was another knock on the door and an old lady who lived in the house next door came running over, repeating the same thing the police had told me.

"Oh, shut the hell up!" I yelled.

The old lady gave me the finger. That did it, I sent Walter after her, and in one big swoop he grabbed her ass into the house. She was shaking and trembling; then when Walter took off his shades, all she saw was his missing eye sockets that had worms crawling all over the inside. Johnny wanted so badly to shoot her; he was about to have a tantrum, so I just gave her to him. He dragged the old lady by the hair until he was pulling out clumps. The old lady was kicking and screaming, until Emily jumped on her as Johnny was pulling her, and ripped out her vocal cords, then ran off with it. I tried to stop her, but she loved that sort of stuff.

The old woman began to shake and blood spouted everywhere, on the walls, the carpet was soaked with it, and my new shirt was ruined. Oh well, all in a day’s work. Johnny strung the old lady up by the neck from the living room ceiling, spin her around like a top, and began to shoot her; six times in the head, four in the heart, nine in the back, and fifty-two times in the stomach.

He loved it; he jumped up and down and over the couch. "Wooo that was fun, let's do it again!"

So, we did. As it got late in the afternoon, and the lazy sheriff and his sorry men called it a day, we struck. I went to all the neighbors that were mean and cruel to me, and began to pull them out of their safe environments one by one. I had Samson as my head guy, Johnny as the lookout, Walter as the getaway driver and Emily as the distraction. The first house I hit was the Macadoo's. Mr. Macadoo was nothing more than a drunk; all he did was pimp his wife and use the money for drugs and booze. Then there was Mrs. Macadoo, who killed her son in the bathroom one afternoon. To this day, she thought no one knew, but I did; I watched her drown her own son after he cried too much. Yes, that was me peeking in the window, I saw it all, how she pushed her son's head under the water, and watched as he struggled to get free, but she was too strong for her five-year-old son to defeat. I watched as she watched him take his last breath, and then acted as if she was the grieving mother. She got away with it, and therefore she deserved payback.

As Mrs. Macadoo was in the bathroom, I had Samson break down the door. First I had him grab Mr. Macadoo, who was drunk already, and suffocate him. Then I had Emily appear in Mrs. Macadoo's bath water and scare the living shit out of her. She began to scream so loudly that Emily ripped out her vocal cords. I think the screaming does something to Emily, her ears are so sensitive. The water was filled with blood, but I wanted the bodies; I loved to keep what was mine. I hunted for those bodies, and now I wanted them in my secret place, the walls of my home. I had Samson quickly wrap both bodies in the bed sheets, and off we went to the next house.

This was such an enjoyment, I loved this kind of thing, it was like eating too much chocolate; you knew it was bad, but it tasted ooh so good. I loved to see people's hearts stop beating; I felt like God, the power was a turn on. All of my imaginary friends were enjoying the time of their lives; we had nothing to fear, but the world had better fear us. Next house was where the Bensons lived. Mr. Benson loved young girls, and when I say young, I mean try like five to eleven! I was one of his victims, he raped me every chance he got. He loved those young girls that had no mother figure in the home, and ran loose in the streets. When my mother was gone for days, leaving me all alone, Mr. Benson would come over and bring me food, and talk to me. Then he started slowly touching me in my private places, and then caressing my breast area. He was too strong for me to fight, but I fought every time, and he would get upset and beat me. Now it was time for payback.

Then there was Mrs. Benson; she knew what her husband did, but turned a blind eye, even though she was a Christian, I was not going to spare her. What she did and allowed to happen on her watch was unacceptable, and she had to pay. Once again, Samson burst down the door with his strong ape-like muscles, and then gave a big roar, showing his yellow teeth and beat on his chest. The first person he saw was Mrs. Benson, reading the Bible. When she heard the noise, she ran out, only to be approached by Samson. He bit off her head, it fell to the floor, and blood spouted in the air from her neck like rain.

Then we got Mr. Benson, who was in the bedroom raping his little girl. I had Emily teach him a lesson. She silently slid under the bed sheets and began to caress his penis.

Mr. Benson loved that, and began moaning and groaning. "Yes, yes, give it to me, baby!"

We did just that, we gave it to him. Emily jumped out from under the sheets and scared him half to death.

"What's the matter? I saw a ghost!" said Mr. Benson.

He stopped breathing, what a bummer, I wanted to see him get brutalized, but he had a fucking heart attack and died. His daughter watched. I thought about killing her, but she was too much like me. Now she could be free. I left her cowering in the corner, and told her to leave and never come back to this house or I would kill her. The little girl nodded, and when we left, I saw her running out of the house and heading toward the highway. Maybe she would find a good home.

The night was young and the killings were fun, but we had to call it a night. As we were leaving, and on the way home, I saw one of my mother's old friends, Mr. Smith; he was on the dusty road stumbling and filled with cocaine, talking to himself and fighting the wind. He didn’t deserve to live, so I killed him, he was a waste of space. I had Johnny put a bullet in his head, one shot did it, and then here came the sheriff. I quickly had Samson put Mr. Smith’s body in the shrubs by the road. As the sheriff stopped us, I let Walter talk and I made the rest of my friends disappear. But, they were there, I could see them. I could make them be seen and unseen, not only to my eyes but to the naked human eyes.

"Hi, Mr. Officer," I said, so sweet and polite.

But the sheriff was in no mood to play, he had a killer running around. The sheriff looked around the truck. Walter told him that we were picking up junk to take to the junk yard, and were headed home for the day. The dumb sheriff never even looked around thoroughly or he’d have seen the blood on the sheets, but I will give him credit and say that it was very dark and he couldn’t see. But really, he was a stupid cop; there were bloody sheets, and hands and legs peaking out of the back of the truck, but he was too busy looking for his killers.

As he let us go, I had Samson bring the body of Mr. Smith out of the shrubs as the sheriff pulled away. That was very close, but we didn’t care because I would have killed the sheriff myself if I had to. The best part was yet to come; we were going home to bury the bodies in the walls. That was my favorite thing.

As soon as we got home, I jumped out of the truck and hurriedly opened the door. Johnny kept a lookout, and we quickly brought the bodies in the house. I took my time and cleaned them one by one, until all the blood was off. But, they were so stiff; it was kinda hard to move them. Anyway, it was still fun, it was like playing with dolls. I put clean clothes on them, and made them smell sweet. Mr. Smith’s stomach burst open and it was such a foul odor, I didn’t want him around anymore. So, I chopped the body up and fed it to Emily. She loved that kind of stuff.

The rest, I put in the walls as my souvenirs. All that night, we could hear the police cars going by. They were in a rush; I could hear the sirens and the people lined up on the curb talking. I wanted to be a good neighbor and see what was happening. I took all of my friends with me, but Walter was the only one that I wanted to be real; the others would bring too much attention. Once on the curb, I listened as the old gossipy women talked about all the missing people, and the store owner that got killed.

One woman wanted the sheriff to call in the police from the big city, but the sheriff was filled with too much pride and wouldn’t. He figured he could handle it by himself, but little did he know that this was something much bigger that he could ever handle. Most of the residents were afraid; they kept begging the sheriff to have more men patrol the streets, but in this small town there were about ten officers, and most of the time they were drunk or buying pussy from a whore. I watched as the sheriff lied to the people and told them that they would catch someone by morning, that he wouldn’t get away, and the assholes believed him. I watched and studied the looks on their faces as they believed every word that came out of the sheriff's mouth.

But, there was one man by the name of Mr. Stewart, a nosy neighbor, too dame smart for his own good; he got on my last nerve, with all that men in black bullshit. "Sheriff Burke, I heard that the government has something to do with this."

"Shut the hell up, you stupid old man, and go in the house!" said Sheriff Burke.

Everyone started laughing at Mr. Stewart. He got upset and went in his house. I figured that this was the perfect time to make a stupid story dumber. I told Sheriff Burke that I saw men in black leaving town the other day, and they quickly sped onto the highway. These people were so stupid that they believed every word that came out of my mouth, what a bunch of jackasses. Nevertheless, I had a great time making the adults who mistreated me look like fools. They whispered all night about how they heard that the government was sending men in black to do so many experiments on their small town. Hillbillies are so, so stupid.

My friends and I just cracked up laughing, and we went into the house and left the neighbors standing and talking all night. I kissed the wall where all of my bodies were, except my mother, the bitch could rot some more, I hated her even in death. I hoped she would bust hell wide open; sometimes I could still hear her scream. I got joy out of hearing the walls scream; they wanted me to let them out. The soul always wants its body, but why should I have to spoil my fun and give them their bodies? There was no way in hell that I would ever let the souls be with the bodies.

As I peaked in the crack of the walls, I could see all the spirits fighting with each other; then they would run up to the hole, begging me to let them out, scaring the shit out of me.

"Fuck no," I said.

They got upset, and all night they banged on the walls like little children. Despite what anyone says, a spirit can’t go to the other side if they are murdered; they must find peace, and to get peace they have to avenge their death from the grave. Basically, the spirits would have to get the person that killed them.

"Good luck on that," I said.

My mother was the worst; she would call me bitch and whore because I wouldn’t let her out of the wall. But, why should I? She was mean to me and her spirit would hunt me for the rest of my life. So, all night I had to listen to banging and whispering in the walls. Sometimes at night my mother and the others would come and try to scare me. They would make the room look like the pits of hell, or they would have a demon of some sort torment me, but it didn’t work. I either sent Samson to kill the demon, or I’d send one of my other friends to make my mother shut her fucking mouth. Then the night would go by fast and morning would come, and it was as if nothing had happened.

Walter would sit by the table, cleaning out his eye socket. Emily would be eating a jar of jelly, Johnny would be cleaning his gun, and Samson would always be looking out the windows. He always wanted to play, and I had to play with him, so I would take him outside, until things started getting weird. Other children passing by began to see Samson. He would do it on purpose to scare them, but I didn’t make him real in my mind, so how did he get real?

I pulled Samson by his fur and let him know that I didn’t appreciate what was going on. He played dumb, as if he didn’t know what I was talking about, but something was definitely strange. I was becoming very nervous that Samson could be seen by the other children, this could be a big problem for us. At night, I’d listen to Walter and my other friends talk. I’d pretend to be asleep, but I had one eye on them. They’d talk about how I was the best friend they’d ever had, but Samson was fearing that one day I would grow out of it, and erase them from my mind, like most children did when they turned a certain age. They’d forget about dolls, toys, and stuff like the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus, and they’d also forget about their imaginary friends. That's what Samson and the others were afraid of. Now that I knew what was on their minds, I had to assure them that I’d never leave them.

The next day, I held a family meeting and let them know that I’d always be there, and unlike some kids, I’d never leave them. Samson and the others were happy to hear this. I then told Samson that I understood why he wanted to make the other children see him, just for the simple fact that he wanted to find another friend, just in case I moved on. But, I gave the big smelly monster a hug and let him know that I was here to stay, and when he heard this he melted like butter in my arms. From that day on the other children couldn’t see him, but they’d always ask me where my monster friend was. I just laughed and let those little brats know that if they didn’t move out of my yard I would kill them. Then I would make Emily appear and frighten the hell out of them. Emily was very scary to the children, her yellow, black straggly hair; she was nothing but bones, and she was dirty looking. To me, she was perfect, but I wanted to buy her some new clothing; so I decided to go shopping.

I only took Walter with me, and reminded Johnny that he was in charge, and to watch the house until I got back. Well, that was my first mistake. While at the store, I could feel that something was wrong, but I shopped anyway. Walter and I picked up a bunch of clothes for everyone and we used one of my mother's dead friend’s credit cards. I was so thrilled to shop for clothing for the first time in my life. I was picking up everything I ever wanted, from dresses to hair bows, I got new socks and panties. By the time we got to the line, I started to get nervous thinking that the card might not ring up. It paused for a minute and I got scared because the cashier looked us up and down. Walter and I looked like a strange couple, but when the card went through, we hurried up and left. I got so carried away that I forgot what I was worried about. I had good reason; on the way home I kept telling Walter that something was wrong and I could feel it in my bones.

I looked all around and noticed that police cars were coming from everywhere. I became very nervous because they had their sirens on. At first, I thought that we were being pulled over, but all the police cars wanted us to do was get out of the way. Like any law abiding citizens, we pulled over to the side of the road and let them go. As I got closer to home, I saw all the police cars around our house. I was so afraid to go inside.

Then a cop came out from behind my house; I let Walter talk to him. This cop was strange looking; I had never seen him around before. He was very skinny, his eyes almost looked dead. His skin was so pale and rough, it seemed to be dry and flaking off. He was a dirty blonde, and his uniform was wrinkled. Walter once again asked him what he wanted. The policeman introduced himself as Officer Clark. He began to go on about how the neighbors said that they heard strange noises coming from the house and that maybe someone was inside. I assured the officer that no one was in my house, but he wanted to check. As I opened the door, I could see Emily hiding a body in the hole in the wall. The officer looked around, under the beds, down in the basement, and in the closet, but found nothing. He quickly apologized and went on his way, but I knew something was wrong; the officer had to have seen something.

So, as he was leaving, I stopped and asked him, "What’s wrong? Are you all right?"

As Officer Clark stood outside the house to catch his breath, he was breathing very hard, I could see his chest pounding. Whatever it was, he was very scared. Then Sheriff Burke came forward and asked Officer Clark if he was okay. I could hear Officer Clark tell the sheriff that he thought he saw a ghost. Burke just patted Clark on the back, and told him not to worry; he'd just been working too hard. I just smiled as Officer Clark looked back at the house. I could tell that he was afraid of whatever it was that he’d seen. As the officers cleared our house and were headed toward the neighbors, two women came running up to the officers, shouting,

"Our children are missing!"

Sheriff Burke tried to calm the two ladies down, but they were very shaken, and were afraid that someone had taken their children. One of the ladies reported that a neighbor child said that a big ape came and snatched the children out of the street. Sheriff Burke just laughed and called the women crack-heads, but Clark took them seriously and comforted them as Sheriff Burke went next door. I quickly locked all of the doors and called Emily, Samson, and Johnny out to the living room. I wanted to know what had happened; I knew they’d had something to do with it.

When Emily came out, she was covered in blood. I quickly left the room and went looking around. Under the couch was a dead boy, about twelve years old; he was dirty, and all he had on was a small worn out teddy bear shirt. His eyes were gouged out, his tongue ripped out, there were scratches all over his body, as if something had attack him, and there were puncture wounds all over his body with blood oozing out. The carpet was well soaked with blood.

As I looked in the walls, there were three more children, two other boys and one girl. I wanted to know what in the hell had happened here! Johnny explained that when I left for the store, four children tried to break into the house; one was scared away, but the other brats broke in, and as they got into the house, Emily dragged them in and taught them a lesson. Well, I was upset that I didn’t get to see the killings, but I wasn’t upset that my friends had had to kill. They were protecting me. But, Walter was upset and scolded Johnny and the others, telling them not to ruin it again.

"Ruin what again?" I asked.

All of them got quiet for a minute, but I wanted to know, and I wanted to know now. Walter sat me down and told me that way back in 1863, they were friends of an African girl who came to America as a slave. Because of Emily and Johnny, the slave girl killed her white master and blamed it on her imaginary friends, which was those four. Of course, no one believed her and she was hanged. Once she was dead, they had no children's minds to invade; every child seemed to be afraid to have imaginary friends for fear of being killed. And now the same thing was happening again; Emily and the others had now killed four children. I began to worry a little and think that they might turn on me.

For some reason I had given them the power to make themselves seen. I now knew that my mind was more powerful than I could ever imagine. The human brain is only used at a five percent level; what we do with the other ninety-five percent is beyond me. I had to think and think quickly, but my love for seeing others hurt got the better of me. I fell in love with murder; it seemed to ease the pain of all I’d gone through; it was like a drug to see murders one after another. I got a high off of touching a dead corpse and feeling its pain. Now I was the abuser, and I was so powerful that the power went to my head. I convinced Walter and the others that I’d never leave them, but they had to behave themselves and only kill when I said it was safe to do so. They all agreed and we went about our daily routine.

I gave Emily and Johnny their new clothes. They were so happy, and because they were happy so was I. But my best pleasure was cleaning the four dead bodies, and having Samson make holes in the wall for me to put them in. They were like my prizes; I cleaned them up, put them in new clothing, and placed them in the wall ever so gently. All night I patched the wall and repainted it. I still could hear my mother running her big mouth, and begging to be let go, but I wasn’t going to; she had to suffer like I did, as long as I could help it, her body would never meet with her spirit. For the first time in her life, she was begging for my help. I found great joy in telling her no.

Every once in a while I would peak through the hole in the wall; I could see all the spirits scratching the walls to get out, they were being tormented by the worms and the demons of hell. I just laughed and I laughed loud enough so they all could hear me. Their spirits became so angry that they began to curse me out in another language.

"Oh, that's not nice," I said and clogged the hole back up.

I could see the wall moving from them pushing on it, the pictures began to fall off, and the paint began to chip away. I sent Samson to the wall to scream at them, and soon they were all quiet. Now that the spirits knew I wasn’t afraid of them anymore, they left me alone. So now at night, instead of the bad dreams and visions, I got a peaceful, restful sleep. I had become stronger, I was not afraid of anything, even though I was barley twelve years old. I felt as if I had lived a lifetime, and I was not afraid of anything or anyone.

I’d made up my mind to kill everyone in our small town; one by one, my friends and I would burst down doors, shoot through walls, and kill everyone. We’d be the only survivors of this small town. I hatched a great plan, and now it was time to implement it. I called all four of my friends together and told them we were going on a killing spree. They were all happy; it was as if we had won the Superbowl.

Look out, town, because here we come! Everyone that ever raped me, abused me, cursed me out, or called me strange or weird was first on my list. And oh, did I have a list, as long as the highway! Johnny and Samson were ready, they began to talk about all the killings they could do, and how much fun they’d have, but all I cared about was revenge. For all the days I had suffered, someone was going to pay and pay they would. To start the ritual of my revenge, I took a sharp razor and I began to slice my face open, and watch the blood run down. For some reason, it didn’t hurt; I just loved the feel of the blood running down my face. I continually sliced my face over and over until the flesh began to bulge out. All night, I cut through my flesh, one slice after the other as Samson and Emily looked on. My face was entirely sliced up, I looked like a totally different person, and that was the look I was going for.

All my life I had looked in the mirror and seen someone I hated; I’ve seen the scars on my heart, and I wanted the world to see what they’d done to me. I wanted the world to pay; all that night I sat by the bedside and sharpened my butcher’s knife, and got all my dark clothing together. Then Walter and I put extra plaster on the walls and began to paint them over and over again, until it was so very thick. I wanted all of my bodies to remain in the walls; I didn’t want anything to happen to my precious prizes.

I sat and looked out the window in complete darkness. I watched as people went in and out of their homes for the night. I watched as they turned out their lights and were done for the night. I gathered my friends together and let them know that it was time to attack, I wanted them to kill everyone in sight, man woman or child, and from there we would move to another town and do the same thing. If the world didn’t know me for anything else, they would know me as the first child serial killer. I was paying everyone back for hurting me and any other children that were hurt in the process. I watched as the moon began to rise. At first, it was so bright, and then all of a sudden, darkness fell.

I could see a few of the neighbors peaking out of their windows. I knew then that it was time for me to make my move. I gathered my friends and off we went. I took a moment to say goodbye to the house I once suffered in, and the one I’d called home. I didn’t want to leave my bodies, but I’d come back for them; I’d start over in a bigger home so that I could collect more bodies. Soon, before I knew it, I was walking out the door. I took a look at myself in the mirror one last time, and I looked like a totally different person. My face was so scarred that no one would ever figure out it was me. I saw the spirits in the mirror, taunting me, and cursing me, but they didn’t scare me anymore; I was brave enough to go out on my own. I was not afraid of anything, and that was a very scary feeling, not to be afraid of nothing, that meant I had the power to do anything and not feel sorrow or any remorse.

The spirits wanted their bodies back, but I just laughed at them and told them to get back in the wall and stay there. They walked away like dogs, with their tails between their legs. I put my black hooded sweater on, and off we went. The first door I knocked on was Mr. Penn; he was a natural child molester, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. So, I’d make him stop. When he opened the door he was having sex with a nine year old boy, and this would be the last time he did that, because with my knife I stabbed him through the neck over and over again; I even killed the boy, because he’d grow up to be a child molester, and then there’d be more children like me getting hurt.

Next, we had to go to the sheriff’s house. I had to kill him and every other police officer in our town, just for the simple fact that they were going to give me so much trouble, and I couldn’t have that. I killed Sheriff Burke by diving straight through his bedroom window and letting the glass crash to the floor. I had Walter disable all of the light switches outside so that he couldn’t see. I could hear him playing with the lights, trying to turn them on and off, and then I heard him go for his gun. I could hear the steel gliding back as he tried to load it. Finally, I saw him in the night, trying to feel his way through the house with his hands touching the walls as he glided right passed me. I had Emily lie on the floor and she tripped him. He shot at Emily, but this did no good; Emily was already dead, she was just my imagination. Bullet by bullet, I could hear them going through the air; Sheriff Burke began to scream when he saw Emily.

"What in hell are you?" he shouted.

Emily just laughed and bit off a part of his ear. At this point, he was out of bullets and still trying to fire his gun, but nothing came out. I could hear him breathing hard; he was very afraid and began to run back into the other room. I couldn’t let him get there to call for help, so I had Johnny waiting with his gun, and before I could command Johnny to fire, he was already shooting bullets all through the house. One by one, they went through Sheriff Burke’s head, and on the floor he collapsed, gulping for every breath, like a fish out of water. Finally, I held his nose and mouth closed until he couldn’t breathe any longer, and he died, like the worthless police sheriff he was. He was never one to help the children in our community, he was the bad cop, the one buying and selling drugs in the community; he was the one who was friends with all the drug pushers that came through our town; now his reign was over.

We then hit every other house, killing everything living from cats to dogs, to boys and girls, there was no one escaping my wrath; this entire town was going to pay, even if it meant with the blood of their children. I then went to Officer Clark’s house; he was in the living room watching nasty porn. I hid in the dark, unnoticed. For a minute he felt something over his shoulder and quickly turned around. That's when I disappeared into the dark, but that was when Emily appeared over his shoulders. She moved around like a snake, so quiet and with a scary elegance. I did let Officer Clark get the last sexual enjoyment that he was ever going to get. As soon as he started playing with his dick, I had Samson rip his head off. The blood went spouting into the air; I could feel the droplets on my skin. I loved that feeling; it was like drinking a cold lemonade on a hot and sticky day. Officer Clark’s body started to move and jerk without the head. This was very fascinating to me, I sat and watched it for a while and then had Emily rip out his heart, after that the body fell to the floor.

Now that the main officers were dead, it was time to wake up the town. Oh, and what fun I had; I sent Samson to turn over cars and cause a huge ruckus. He went out into the streets, flipping and turning over cars one by one. I could see trucks and cars flying through the air and into people’s homes. Samson began to beat on his chest as if he was in the wild; people came running out of their homes, and when they did I sent my friends to kill them all. As Samson and the others killed the people, I just sat back and watched as the homes were destroyed. I was very intrigued by the fire and the smoke from the explosions of the cars.

I took a seat on the grass of a house, watching as it burned to the ground. People began to fall over each other as if it was the end of the world. I just sat there laughing as the people ran passed me. I tripped them and caused them to fall to the ground, awaiting my friends to come and attack them. Johnny was having the most fun of all; he was shooting his gun into the air like a wild man. Every time someone walked or ran passed him; he would shoot them in the head. Blood splattered all over the sidewalks and onto other people as they ran by.

Emily was also there, giving people the scare of their lives. Once they got a good look at her, they began to scream their heads off. To be quite honest, she was very scary looking, but to me she was the prettiest thing God had ever created. One by one, I watched as Emily yanked out people's hearts and lungs, it was amazing how she could push her hands through their bodies so easily. People were dropping like flies, they were screaming, but there was no one to help them. They were so far away, the only thing close by was a deserted old highway; the next big city was miles and miles away. It would be days before anyone came around, which was just the way I wanted it, it was like a playhouse for my friends and I.

I tried to collect as many bodies as I could and had Walter lift them onto our truck. I then noticed that Walter was looking sad. When I asked him what was wrong, he just pointed at his eyes. I was then aware for the first time that Walter wanted eyes like everyone else. So, the next person running away from the madness, I grabbed them and snatched out their eyes. It just so happened to be Mr. Coffee; people on the streets called him coffee bean. He was another hardcore crack addict, so I figured he didn’t need his eyes.

As I snatched them from Mr. Coffee's head, blood and body fluids splashed everywhere, but Walter was happy. He licked his lips, he was happy that he finally had some eyes. He quickly grabbed them out of my hands and placed them in his eye sockets. I watched as Mr. Coffee's eyes became W