when i was in Lincoln High School in Brooklyn New York City. I was the Son of New York and led the Lincoln High School to win the New York State Championship 2 years in a row (2001 and 2002)
In those two years, I got Mr. Basketball of New York 2 times, and the best high school student in the United States and i also got other honors.
Even the Owner of the New York Knicks joke about that once i participated in the draft the knicks will pick me. 
*****
follow me on IG @dunknd0nut

While still in early access, Battlegrounds won the "Best Multiplayer Game" and was also nominated for the categories "Game of the Year" and "Best Ongoing Game" at The Game Awards 2017.[148] The game's nomination for "Game of the Year" created some debate, being the first early access title to be named for one of the top industry awards.[149][150]Also, about a month before it was released, the game won "Best Multiplayer Game" and "PC Game of the Year" at the 35th Golden Joystick Awards,[151] whereas its other nominations were for "Studio of the Year" (PUBG Corporation) and "Ultimate Game of the Year".[152] It also won the "Breakout Game of the Year" award at PC Gamer's end of the year awards,[153] whereas its other nomination was for "Game of the Year".[154] Polygonranked the game second on their list of the 50 best games of 2017,[155] and The Vergenamed it one of their 15 Best Games of 2017,[156] while Entertainment Weekly ranked it seventh on their "Best Games of 2017" list.[157]

On the day it was released, the game won the award for "Best PC Game", "Best Multiplayer", and "Best Spectator Game" at the IGN Best of 2017 Awards,[158][159][160] whereas its other nominations were for "Game of the Year"[161]and "Best Shooter".[162] It also won the award for "Best PC Game" at Destructoid's Game of the Year Awards 2017.[163] The game also won Giant Bomb's "Best Multiplayer", "Best Surprise", "Best Debut", and "Game of the Year" awards, and was classified as a runner-up for the "Best Moment or Sequence" award for the "chicken-eating game".[164][165][166][167]Eurogamer ranked PUBG fourth on their list of the "Top 50 Games of 2017",[168] while GamesRadar+ ranked it 12th on their list of the 25 Best Games of 2017.[169] Game Informer gave it the award each for "Best Competitive Multiplayer" and "Best Shooter" in their Best of 2017 Awards,[170][171] and also for "Best Competitive Multiplayer", "Best Multiplayer Map" (Erangel), "Best Innovation", and "Shooter of the Year" in their 2017 Shooter of the Year Awards.[172] In their Reader's Choice Best of 2017 Awards, the game won the "Best Competitive Multiplayer" award, and was runner-up in the "Best Microsoft Exclusive" and "Best Shooter" categories.[173][174][175] The game was also nominated for the Big Apple Award for Best Game of the Year at the New York Game Awards 2018,[176] and for "Best Design", "Innovation Award", and "Game of the Year" at the Game Developers Choice Awards.[177][178]In addition, it was nominated for "Game of the Year" and "Outstanding Achievement in Game Design", and won "Action Game of the Year" and "Outstanding Achievement in Online Gameplay" at the D.I.C.E. Awards;[179][180] it was also nominated for "Game, esports" at the National Academy of Video Game Trade Reviewers Awards,[181][182] and won the awards for "Excellence in Multiplayer", "Trending Game of the Year", and "Esports Game of the Year" at the SXSW Gaming Awards, whereas its other nominations were for "Most Promising New Intellectual Property", "Excellence in Design", and "Video Game of the Year";[183][184] and it was nominated for "Evolving Game", "Multiplayer" and "Original Property" at the 14th British Academy Games Awards.[185][186

The Art Story
 
 
 
 
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BRAVE NEW WORLD: Examining the Zeitgeist at THE ART STORYNovember 16, 2020
 
Display Thousands of Museum-Quality Artworks in Your Home or OfficeMay 9, 2017
 
Become a Superhuman via Art Exercises (and Marina Abramović)April 24, 2017
 BRAVE NEW WORLD: Examining the Zeitgeist at THE ART STORY
My Latest Discovery:
I am excited to share a vital resource for online art history research called The Art Story.  This resource is a growing compendium for art lovers, artists, curators, writers, educators, students and the curious looking for concise and expansive art histories.  They have accumulated the largest online encyclopedia of art in the world, with over 1000 topic pages. The Art Story has specialized pages to address your interests, whether you are looking up an artist (Picasso, Michelangelo, or Kara Walker), an art movement (Impressionism, Performance, or Baroque), or an art concept (The Readymade, Renaissance Humanism, or Collage).
Founder Michael Zurakhinsky started The Art Story, noticing that art history education wasn't always accessible or factual online.  One of the best resources was Wikipedia, but as an art history learning tool its' value seemed limited. He was disappointed that prominent arts organizations such as the Museum of Modern Art in New York City only cover their own collection, do not cover the rest of art history, and often provide links to Wikipedia instead of their own curatorial research on their website.  Many encyclopedic art textbooks are terribly outdated. Newer, topic-based books are more inclusive, but they focus on singular subjects. To understand how a particular artist or movement connects to others is a herculean task. After 12 years with hundreds of writers on the job, The Art Story is now available to all, and for free!
The Challenge:
As a former museum educator at MoMA, Brooklyn Museum, and Studio Museum in Harlem, I was always craving a comprehensive tool for art history research on the internet. I am happy to have discovered The Art Story, and I use it in researching classes I teach, including my current online course at Pratt Institute, "Brave New World: Daily Artmaking Ritual."
I took The Art Story for a research spin in contemplation of these unprecedented times. I share here with you how I put together a grouping of artworks navigating the consistent, accessible architecture of the Art Story website. I was able to save hours of research time and enjoyed having an easy, reliable way to travel through the site connecting artist's works to different art movements, influences, genres, and other concepts.
A Brave New World – Contemplations and Discoveries:
Artists throughout history are known to interpret and challenge the zeitgeist of their times. The year 2020 has amplified ideological battlegrounds and ignited public health and environmental challenges.  We battle two concurrent pandemics in the United States and globally; the coronavirus and the fight for human rights spearheaded by Black Lives Matter. While thinking about the global pandemic, we can examine artworks made during past pandemics including the concurrent Syphilis and Spanish Flu outbreaks in Post-WW1 Europe and the AIDS crisis in the 1990s, with it's devastating impact on New York City. Climate change and environmental issues have erupted globally with science denial by the United States government affecting our ability to contain the coronavirus.  Many activist artists are making work about these issues, let's look at art history to compare notes.
Timely Treasures from The Art Story Website:
 George Grosz
The Funeral: Tribute to Oskar Panizza, 1917-18
Artwork on The Art Story
As I started my research, I was thinking about artists who lived through the previous world pandemic.  Looking up the keyword Spanish Flu brought me to an article about Egon Schiele (The Female Nude) After reading about the artist, who died very young from the Spanish Flu in 1918, I became curious about other artists painting that year.  I found an artwork that encapsulates that pandemic era perfectly.
German Expressionist George Grosz painted A Funeral: Tribute to Oskar Panizza in homage to writer and psychiatrist Oskar Panizza, known for his critiques against the post-WWI German government. This passionately expressive painting deploys Cubist and Futurist techniques to capture the chaos of plague, war, syphilis, and alcohol. Grosz described The Funeral as a "gin alley of grotesque dead bodies and madmen…. A teeming throng of possessed human animals… think: that wherever you step, there's the smell of shit."
George Grosz captured the tight quarters and frenetic pathos of a city riddled with disease. The Funeral is ablaze with color, a tattered flag, a priest waving a glowing white cross, a club festooned with  a "Dance Tonight" sign, bodegas and cafés that stand in counterpoint to the huddled masses and tightly-packed flaming apartments. From a contemporary lens, this hallucinatory hellscape speaks to our collective unconscious, as fears of disease and death have colored the urban landscape, where there's no option but constant motion.
Even though George Grosz paints a grim scenario, the colors and the details feel so rich and satisfying to me as a viewer. The Funeral makes me wonder if imagining a monstrous hellscape can be cathartic. Which other artists throughout history have created their own visions of hell to express their societal concerns?
 Felix Gonzalez-Torres
Untitled: Lover Boy, 1989
Artwork on The Art Story
I was searching through The Art Story for an artist who was making work during the AIDS Crisis, so I did a keyword search on the main search bar. Felix Gonzalez-Torres came up first in the search. 
Cuban-born American Minimalist and Conceptual artist, Felix Gonzalez-Torres brought his personal history and politics to tackle issues such as gay rights, gun violence, and the AIDS crisis. Gonzalez-Torres tracked the impact of the crisis through creating intimate works, foreshadowing and later mourning the loss of his lover, Ross Laylock, who died due to AIDS-related complications. Gonzalez-Torres considered his muse, Laylock, his primary audience.  Untitled: Lover Boy captures the depth of eternal love. The two sets of windows ajar, with curtains blowing into an interior domestic space conjure breath, the intertwined souls of two men partnered in transcendence of earthly boundaries.
Untitled: Lover Boy was made in an atmosphere of government neglect of the disproportionately affected the LGBTQ+ community.  I think about each of the over 230, 000 people who have died from the coronavirus in the United States thus far.  Each one of them is connected to someone, somewhere who feels that eternal love like Gonzalez-Torres did for Laylock.  We walk alongside our lost ones. Looking at works by Gonzalez-Torres can help us to cope creatively with grief, and mortality.
 Kehinde Wiley
Judith Beheading Holofernes, 2012
Artwork on The Art Story
One of my favorite ways to search through The Art Story is to look at the Artworks page for each artist I am interested in.  When I looked up Kehinde Wiley, I was reminded of his 2017 Presidential portrait of Barack Obama, hanging in the National Portrait Gallery and how it conjured conservative resistance, because of Wiley's 2012 painting Judith Beheading Holofernes.
Many famed artists including Artemisia Gentileschi, Lucas Cranach the Elder, and Caravaggio have painted this symbolic scene from the deuterocanonical Book of Judith, where Judith seduces and beheads Holofernes, who was generally intent on destroying her city of Bethulia. Historic paintings of this biblical story are often read as a feminist victory, but Wiley's Judith fights a different battle.
In Wiley's "Holofernes head" we see a Karen, a Becky, humorously and quite viscerally exposing feminism's focus on white women, that often ignores racial disparities.  Throughout this historic 2020 election, we can't help but look back to 2016's election to remember the commitment that 94% black women made to vote against Trump, while 53% of white women voted for Trump (according  to York Times exit polls).  An even higher percentage of white women voted for Trump in 2020.  When a white woman acts against all women, does she not become a Holofernes, a "man" attempting to destroy Judith's people?  Amy Coney Barrett becomes our current symbol for a woman inserted by patriarchy to act against the interests of women, potentially dismantling Roe v. Wade, jeopardizing a woman's right to choose, in this country that was originally founded to separate church and state.
 Barbara Kruger
Your Body is A Battleground, 1989
Artwork on The Art Story
"Do you know why language manifests itself the way it does in my work? It's because I understand short attention spans" -Barbara Kruger
The Art Story includes choice artists' quotes at the top of each Artist's page.  This is such a valuable resource for art writers, educator's and curators, who want to get at the heart of the artist's intent.  Reading American Conceptual Artist Barbara Kruger's explanation of her graphic text-based works as geared to "short attention spans" in 1989 feels so contemporary. 
Barbara Kruger's bold works deploy her training as a graphic designer to create images and phrases that resonate, functioning both in public space and the contemporary art world. Best known for her silkscreen prints with captions over found photographs, she also creates site specific installations, video, and audio works. Her prints from the 1980s encapsulate "Reaganomics," including this Your Body is a Battleground screenprint defending women's reproductive rights, which was originally created for the March for Women's Lives, in Washington, D.C in 1989. This image, set in Kruger's signature palette of black, white and red, splits a woman's face in half.   Half photographic portrait, half x-ray, this powerful image references the constant probing and control of the female body in America.  
Echoing the words of Ruth Bader Ginsburg (1933- 2020), the United States Supreme Court justice who fought tirelessly for women's rights: "The State controlling a woman would mean denying her full autonomy and full equality."
 Ana Mendieta
Untitled (Siluetas Series), 1976
Artwork on The Art Story
Cuban artist Ana Mendieta is renowned for her contributions to the Body Art, Land Art, and Performance Art Movements.  On each Artist's page on The Art Story, there are links to every art movement associated with the artist, making it easy to find (and to dive into) connections.
Her powerful Silueta series contemplates the cycles of birth, life, and death through performing various ephemeral actions in natural environments. Mendieta ritualistically asserted her form in relation to the seascape in Untitled: Silueta Series, Mexico (1976/1991). The deep impression of her body in the sand is activated by red pigment, the blood, the body, the soul's imprint washed away by the ocean's waves.  The vulnerability of the body and of the natural environment are seamlessly interrogated here, evoking Paleolithic goddess power, a matrilineage dating back to the Venus of Willendorf circa 30,000 BCE as well as childlike fantasy mermaids and bloody snow angels.
Mendieta's Silueta series shares a feminist viewpoint on the environment that reverberates currently, with climate change affecting us globally. The Americas have been hit hard by fires, increasingly destructive hurricanes and global warming. According to Aaron Bernstein, Director of Center for Climate, Health and the Global Environment at Harvard University, climate change has caused habitat loss for animals, and germs and diseases are spreading as animals congregate more closely to each other and human-populated areas.  I ponder how Ana Mendieta would respond now to the coronavirus as part of her lexicon.

There is an art in everyone's life which you use to make yourself perfect

NARRATIVE of WARD COURIER
September, 2007
SOUTH WALES, NY

I should introduce myself. I'm Trevor Ward Courier, the voice of this book. I usually go by Ward. So you can visualize me, I'm a white guy about about six feet high and one-seventy heavy. I look like someone of my ancestry, a European mutt: Irish, Scottish, German, and English, so far as we know. I have brown hair, blue-green eyes, a sharp nose, and kind of a long skull. I am an English teacher and department chairman at an independent boarding school in rural Western New York.
I experienced a lot of what you are going to read in these pages, and when you see the word "I" or "me" in here and it's not part of a quote, the observations presented should be mine. I have a pretty good handle on the things I didn't see from interviewing some of the other players. Those I can imaginatively recreate for you, and they will be in the third person voice and often the present tense. I write those scenes as if they're happening in a film.
This is going to be two rambling, discursive books, put into one for the purposes of e-publishing. They are not going to have the tightness of the literary masterpieces I admire, ones with that sense of no word out of place and none that should be added or axed. You may even find a few typos. I keep finding them, along with awkwardnesses and blunders. But now that I've decided to write it, I have to get this story out.
This book is going to hop around in a couple of different plot tracks that took place over the span of five years. Things were happening at different times across the Americas, and from the way things came together in the end, I figured the best way to present them was in their rough chronology. A certain portion of this book, too, is comprised of my published writings exactly as they appeared, so you can see what there was in them that drew the official interest that brought me into the action. I will do my best at keeping them clear so you can keep it all straight.
I have a master's degree in British literature and know my way pretty well around European lit in general. I have a side-interest, though, that is my real niche of specialization in life: the paranormal. I'm the authority in my home region, upstate New York, though largely due my handful of books and the lack of any serious competition. I'm a reasonable scholar and interpreter of paranormal subjects and situations in general.
I have the local reputation of being a psychic detective, which I do nothing to encourage. Possibly because it is the handiest thing for people to get their heads around, it is impossible to talk people out of thinking it. I don't like false titles, but the impression certainly helps my research. I get called in on cases I would never have heard about otherwise. Lest you start getting images of the caped Dr. Strange or Dion Fortune's fictional Dr. Taverner, though, I should clarify that I am more of a historian and folklorist. I am no exorcist, either. Wouldn't touch the stuff without a Hell of a lot more training, as in, a career's worth.
There are plenty of ghost hunters in the upstate, some of them reasonably prominent. If you want an expert at running around in the dark with surveillance gadgets, any one of them would be better than I am. The upstate likewise has loads of psychics, at least people who say they are, plus UFO-geeks, exorcists, gurus, mystics, cult-leaders, spiritual healers, and representatives of just about every alternative -ism you can think of. Western New York, after all, was the home of so many alternative religious cults and communities that early in its days of white settlement it was nicknamed things like "the Burned-over District" and "the Spirit Way." It was as if the first observers thought there could have been something special about the territory itself. This is also classic Seneca country, and the insights of one of their prominent young elders is a major factor in the events these pages unfold.
I, however, am none of the above. I'm a profiler. I operate toward the paranormal with an almost Cartesian - "I think, therefore I am" - system of affirming by doubting. I'm like Peter Sellers' Inspector Clouseau: "I believe everything and I believe nothing." I start by presuming that everything I hear is just a report - human testimony. It can't all be true; I can't presume it's all false. I look for parallels in time, place, and tradition, and work back from there toward a consensus of likelihood. While certainty may not await us in any of these subject areas, there is a surprising amount you can learn through these means.
In matters paranormal, I record what people say and interpret what they have written. I try to make my conjecture based on broad patterns, not the testimony of single persons and certainly not on my own feelings or intuitions. I do not discount supernatural explanations for things; I merely save them for the last possibility standing. And I do not project meaning onto incoherent situations, either.
Under the pen name Mason Winfield, I've written a couple books about the supernatural-paranormal history of my home region, Western New York, as well as other books on the War of 1812 and the traditions of the upstate Native American League of Six Nations, the Iroquois/Hodenosaunee. I also have a website and publish many articles in magazines and papers in a typical year. Some people are convinced there really is a Mason Winfield. Hah. Does that sound like a real name? Mason Winfield? Who would name their kid Mason Winfield?
There are other people in upstate New York who write about paranormal subjects. My real niche is my broad base and my historic, objective take on the people, places, and events in the supernatural-paranormal past and present of my home region. If somebody wanted a crash course in the upstate paranormal, I would be the natural person to come to. If somebody wanted help interpreting any regional development that seemed related to any paranormal subject, I would typically get that first call.
One morning in September 2007 I checked my mailbox in the faculty lounge and spotted one of the notorious pink notes used to record messages for the faculty that come in through phone calls. This one was a summons to meet with Prescott Burns, our venerable headmaster, right after lunch in his office. "Prez," we called him, or "PB." There were variants among the faculty, like "Peanut Butter," and, "the Sandwich," and "PB-and-J," which of course evolved into just "and-J," sounding often like "NJ." "Talkin' to the Sandwich," one of us might say about heading to a meeting with him, or even, "Going to lunch," or "Brown-bagging it." My colleagues are inveterate nicknamers. Even people like me who don't pick up nicknames anywhere else get them here. If you're sensitive, don't work here.
Because of my initials - TWC, which I use to sign the countless passes and memos we exchange every day - I'm often referred to as "Cable Guy," after Time Warner Cable. Sometimes it's shortened to "T-Dub," or just "Cable." Sometimes it's "Larry," after the comedian, "Larry the Cable Guy." When I was a kid I went by my first name a lot, and people who have known me for a long time often call me "Trev." My mother has always called me "Trevor."
Sometimes a call to the boss' office is a trouble-sign, but I couldn't think of anything this one could be about. I hadn't skipped a study hall or gym duty, had a major fight with a student or colleague, spoken indiscreetly to a trustee, or shown up massively late for anything. At least not recently. That I could recall. I went in as a blank slate.
It was a bright afternoon about 1:45. I found PB in the little lobby of his spacious office conducting a meeting with the math chairman and the bookstore manager. He had his non-confidential meetings here.
I always liked the way PB dressed, like the classic New England headmaster. That day he had on dark grey pants, a powder blue Oxford shirt, and a brown herringbone tweed that went really well together. I could have done without the bow-tie - I've never once worn one - but that was an occasional given with PB. His full head of impeccably clipped white hair was a living landmark on the campus. It stood out against a crowd of campus walkers like a torch in the darkness. He got up when he saw me and met me at the door.
"Ward, I've got a call in from Ted Bennett. He's the head of the local FBI. He's asked me about you and I told him you're no terrorist. He'd like to speak to you in his office in the city. Can you get in there to see him sometime soon?"
"Well, sure," I said. "Any idea what it's about?"
"I'm pretty sure it's got something to do with one of your books," he said. "Sounds like a research question and he'd like to discuss it in person."
"I'll call him," I said.
"If you can do anything to help Ted out, I hope you'll give it due consideration," said Prescott Burns. "His dad was on the Pennsylvania with me when we were both just a little younger than you. And give him my best. I haven't seen him since he was in Sunday School."




Author:
Author, teacher, storyteller, and supernatural historian Mason Winfield studied English and Classics at Denison University, earned a master’s degree in British literature at Boston College, and studied poetry and fiction at SUNY Buffalo with professor emeritus and MacArthur grant recipient Irving Feldman. He has written or edited fourteen books, including the regional sensation “Shadows of the Western Door” (1997) and “Iroquois Supernatural,” co-authored with Michael Bastine, on the traditions of the Six Longhouse Nations (Inner Traditions International/Bear & Company, 2011). Several of his surveys of upstate folklore and paranormal tradition may be found at the website of Western New York Wares: www.buffalobooks.com. He may be reached at www.masonwinfield.com.

An anatomically perfect human jaw fashioned of diamond-hard quartz crystal is uncovered at an Ohio burial mound and sold on the underground antiquities market. Shortly after, three pothunters are found dead.

A mysterious new drug suspected of South American origin surfaces in Buffalo, NY. Its unprecedented psycho-tropic effects include the momentary activation of ESP. 

Blind, speechless, emaciated street people start appearing in many parts of the world. An urban legend-cycle forms around them, and the name of a murderous old cult, “the Whistlers” attaches to them.

An archaeological team at a Mayan site reports finding a bizarre artifact and vanishes. 

An upstate schoolteacher’s book of New York legends and folklore foreshadows these developments and more. 

   These are the threads – plus his affair with a maddening woman – that draw narrator Ward Courier into the international adventure of occultism, terror, Native American tradition and onrushing prophecy that is Mason Winfield’s anticipated new novel THE WHISTLERS. By the time the picture of THE WHISTLERS becomes clear, we are ready to believe in a sinister conspiracy that could predate Atlantis and even hail from another world.

Growing up in the streets of new York isn't easy, especially if your new York is filled with gangsters and mad men to the casing and the filler.

Meet delorean soll, a strapping young black gentlemen, though he can act dark at times and sort of pessimistic, he still possess a pure heart. 

Meet Christopher Liam, the whole opposite mostly of delorean, a strapping and young black gentlemen who's always optimistic and enjoys life despite his neglectful, at times, parents, he's pure of heart, although, he follows the rules and dislike vigilante justice usually. This adventure changes the both of them.

Meeting in the 5th grade, these two best friends fight crime as the hero duo known as "the dignified sticks", Two young black teens trying to make it rich at the young Age of 15 in more industrialized and crime filled, new york. As 2017 was their year, they thought to be happy, of course until...

Delorean sees an antique shop seeking old weapons and artifacts for his brother like close friend. Inside the shop with glass doors and an old bell ringing each time someone enter, delorean sees a 40 to 50 year old looking man standing at a Cash register, delorean checks out the old looking things on display like they're supposed to be for an old antique shop.

The man was white, atleast 6'0 feet and had no facial hair, he wore regular jeans and a regular T-shirt. He looked like your average older white man who runs a small shop.
Nothing special looking one bit.

-Delorean: (Just as he walks into the shop and the bell rings like normal)
"Hey old man, I'm looking for some presents two great friends could enjoy together."

-Antique shop clerk: "I'm not old, I'm ancient, I could be your grandfather's great times 20 grandfather young man!"
-Delorean: "Yeah right, I'm just looking for some gifts, not your life story old man!"

-Antique shop clerk: "Well... feel free to look around my shop, this isn't just an antique shop, it's a unique shop, there are many artifacts and ancient things in here that i collected from the universal author's story books!"

-Delorean: "Those books are pure myth, those books remind me of comic books and clearly, those are made up, there's no "Supreme forge" or "Angelic family" Who has run away children in this world."

-Antique shop clerk: "Ok, well... just feel free to look around and enjoy the many authentic, amazing artifacts here then young man!"
<Delorean turns his head towards a shelf and that's when he flashbacks to his friend telling him in the 7th grade that he enjoys Bo - staffs and spots a pair of escrima, each filled and customized with weird symbols, he's never seen before and decides to buy them, escrima sticks for him though!

-Delorean:"Hey man, how much for these custom wooden weapons?"
"Are they for decoration or something, which is why they're weird like this old man?"

-Antique shop clerk: "Oh no, young boy, these are very powerful and old works of magical weapons custom enchanted."

-Delorean: "Ooohh, sounds fancy, sounds like these can be pretty dangerous for some wood then, we all know magic doesn't exist."

-Antique shop clerk: "Fun fact actually, I made these myself!"

-Delorean: "So you carve shapes from wood and can make symbols, woopee..."

-Antique shop clerk: "They'll be 20$ kid, 10 each, cheap deal for what they're actually worth honestly, I'm just on a clearance sale now!"

-Delorean: (Delorean pays the 20$)
"How much for that copy of the Universal Author's, "Stories of universe 1" you selling there?"

-Antique shop clerk: "They're cheap but the stories in this book are very real and assumably, as well, the other books, one story is more than real atleast young boy!"

-Delorean: "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know they're not real one bit!"

-Antique shop clerk: "that'll be another 10$ young man!"
<Delorean pays the money and goes outside and walks home as it's 5:00 PM, of course, he walks home.
It all begins when delorean wanted to celebrate Christopher's birthday, finding a weird antique shop, delorean was always a nerd, he knows how much Christopher likes swords and weapons and so from some creepy man who work at the shop, delorean bought a wooden bo-staff and 2 wooden escrima sticks to celebrate the day, however...

(The night of Christopher's birthday after school, March 15th, 8:20 PM, dell and Chris is on the phone with eachother)
-Christopher: "What did you buy me?"

-Delorean: "Yooo, I got you some wooden decoration weapons bro!"

-Christopher: "What the heck?"
"I thought i told you that i don't like wooden weapons anymore though!"

-Delorean: "Ohh, that's right dude, didn't you say your mom slipped on your kendo staff you left laying around and she slipped on it falling down the basement stairs so badly, she needed some surgery done?"

-Christopher: "Bruh, that was my grandma man!"
"Yeah though, that's why, sad day."
"Don't you ever put the drugs down and listen man?"

-Delorean: "NOPE!"
(Delorean begins to laugh!)
"OK.. OK, I'll return the damn things!"

-Christopher: "Thanks.. YOU BETTER NOT HAVE GOTTEN ME SOME OF THOSE WOODEN STICKS, like that one guy who wears a tight blue suit and is always being cheerful and nice, ugh, I can't stand that character dude, I'm not that into comics anymore, but he still is lame to me honestly!"

-Delorean: (Begin to laugh nervously!)
"Yeah man... I know you hate that character... why I didn't get you them, just a staff, of course like your old one."

<There is some truth to what he said, he's a big fan of that character as he's the only one of them that actually reads comics, Chris just skims over his comics and isn't a die hard fan of them, he's not that much of a reader.
Just as Delorean walks back to the shop... he's greeted by 5 thugs who wants to rob him for his money, being scared, Delorean does the only thing that makes sense.
Just as one of the thugs come after him, Delorean tries to run but all the thugs tackle him down quickly and begins to jump him and stomp him until he begins to bleed and the thugs rip off delorean bag and one of them tries to reach into his pockets.

Delorean is rolled into a cradle like a baby, beaten and hurt.
Delorean is having flashbacks of his best friend, his mom who's missing and his abusive dad, the thugs beat delorean to a bloody pulp constantly as he puts up a struggle, finally delorean has gotten hit enough and his head bashed in and is really brought to near-death. 

The thugs finally quit and just as they have robbed him of everything he has, one of them picks up an escrima stick and begins to walk off with the others but before they could get too far away, Delorean gets back up but has changed, delorean's eyes are electric blue with electricity flowing all around him and the sky's become grey and groups up above the situation going on!
One of the thugs begin to say "Heh, cheap trick kid!" But half of the rest are cowering in fear.

They all stand where they are for a while as the sky gets worse and worse, then finally, delorean screams out, "FOR THE KING OF KLESE AND HIS KLESIAN ARMY, YOU SHALL DIE!" As electricity is crackling all around him.

However, faster than the eye can see, he grabs one of the thugs and hold him up by an arm with one hand, a feat no normal man can do, however, he passes out but everything the thugs saw was enough to make them pee their pants and quit crime for good as they all run away and cower in fear dripping pee and dropping what they robbed from delorean as they run.

The angle cuts to a mysterious being up top a roof looking down on poor, hurt delorean, the 15 year old kid.

The mysterious character says as he was watching, "Nope, not demons but men" then jumps off leaving the story of course!

Delorean wakes up 15 minutes later, remembering it all but is still hurt as he muskers up strength to make it back home again!
|TO BE CONTINUED NEXT PART!|

One day, a young man in 10th grade named Delorean, who feels he screwed up his best friend's birthdays every year suddenly feels bad when he realizes his birthday is coming yet again, walking on the street as he ponders what to get him to make up for his past screw ups, a mysterious store grabbed his eye and he must go in. 
4th book published!
This story is about two friends battling criminals and monsters alike with the power of what one calls... THE POWER OF THE STICKS!... merely wooden sticks. Longer running books!
I'll keep adding more until possibly part 20-60?
This is all a work of fiction!
This story is more like a pitch for an anime/cartoon/Real time show rather than comic book or giant storyline pitch.
There are goofy things in here and serious things, not too dark or too light.

April 15, 2017
Marcus apartment

    Marcus looked out from the tall glass window in the living room of his one bedroom apartment on 14th Street. The streets were filled with women wearing flowy and flowery dresses and trench coats, while men are wearing jeans with their hooded jackets. Still others has trench coats on in different colors. Flowery trees filled the sidewalks and its petals were blown by the wind, showering the streets.  Across his apartment, the coffee shop started putting out chairs and tables outside for the customers to sit. Oh how he loves spring in New York! He truly missed it so much. 

     He had been travelling a lot for the past year. Most of his projects are either in New York or out-of-state. He also visited the  Philippines three times to check on how their resort was doing. His Uncle Dan took over it eversince he and his mom moved to New York years ago. His mom usually visit the Philippines with him once or twice a year and stays there for about a month. But since last year, it has not been the case.

     His mom was diagnosed of stage 4 breast cancer.  She has been ignoring her pain for such a long time that they never knew she was sick until last year. His mom was a jolly woman, and always making sure she does not let anyone worry about her. So when the doctor told them that she has breast cancer, he cannot believe that she hid it from him. Five months later, she passed away.

    His stepdad, Alfred, was so devastated that he buried himself in his work. He would sometimes see him sleeping in his office and barely going home. He knew how hard it must have been for him. He saw how his own mom was when his own father died when he was younger. He would often hear her cry at night. She did not show it to him but he knew how she truly missed his dad. 

    So when she told him she met someone online, five years after his father died, he was happy for her. Finally, someone will take care of her again and make her happy just like his dad used to do. Alfred came to their hometown in the Philippines and spend time with them. 

     The first time he met Alfred, he knew he is the right one for his mom. He saw how he took care of her, making her feel like a queen. He bought her flowers everyday and helped out in the resort. He said they used to have a farm in Oklahoma before moving to New York when he was a kid, so he was not afraid to get his hands dirty. He treated him like his own son, and often said how he wished he had one like him. 

  He longed for a father's love and so when Alfred asked him if he can have his approval in marrying his mom, he didn't even think twice and even volunteered to be the best man. It was a simple yet romantic wedding with only his mom's family and close friends. 

    Tagaytay was considered one of the most visited tourist spots in the Philippines and it had always been her mom's dream to get married again in that place, overlooking the Taal Volcano. He remembered how happy his mom was that day as he walked down the aisle with her. Alfred was a bit teary-eyed as he took her from him and exchanged their vows. He would never forget that day. 

    Alfred became more than his expectations of a father. He adopted him as his own, sending him to an Ivy League school to study architecture and later on, offering him a position in his own company. He had always dreamt of becoming an architect and Alfred fulfilled those dreams for him. But comes with it is a price of being in the spotlight which he is not very used to. Having a famous stepfather made everyone's attention turn to him, mostly women. 

    Everyone thought he is a ladies man. That every time a woman made advances on him, he would indulged himself. Though he did tried to really have a serious relationship with most of them, but none of them could surpass his standards. He still longs for a long term serious relationship just like his mom had with the two people she fell in love with. True love.. which is very rare nowadays. 

    He did made a promise once to someone and ending up breaking someone's heart in the end. He tried his hardest to forget that day but he just can't. He still remembers every detail... and how he had hurt her. He regretted it, but back then he has no other choice. He has to break her heart...

     And now he has to face her again in a few minutes because of a promise. A binding promise he made three years ago... and he had to make sure she agrees to it.. most especially now. 

     The intercom rang, stopping him from his thoughts. He went to the intercom nailed to the side of his main door. 

     "Yes, Sebastian," he answered.

      "Hello, Mr. Jones. Ms. Nikka is here," said Sebastian, the doorman.

      Nikka, he thought. She is here.

     "Sir? Should I let her come up now."

      "Ahh... yes, Sebastian. Thank you."

       "You're welcome, sir."

        He hang up the phone. He looked at his watch again, 10:45am. She is fifteen minutes early and yet he knew how Nikka is. She is always early in any appointments even before.

       How he wished he could bring back everything the way it used to be. To erase that bitter memory for once and start over again... if only...

        "You can come up now, Ms. Nikka," Sebastian told her as she paced around the lobby. 

         "Thank you, Sebastian," she replied. She can't believe it has been three years since she went back here. Sebastian never changed at all, except for a few wrinkles. 

          She is feeling really nervous. It has been three years since she last saw Marcus and she doesn't know how she feels upon seeing him again. She feels like the wound that he left is so deep that she wishes not to see him forever. She tried to move on after that day and tried to forget him... along with the memories by finding someone new. Someone she thought she can trust and love. But, then, he turned out to be her worst nightmare. In which, up to this moment, she still goes to counselling sessions and therapies.

          The elevator door opened to the fifth floor. She straightened her white ruffled dress and took a deep breath. 

      It's okay, Nikka. She thought. You can do this.

      She walked across the hall to his apartment. She was about to knock on the door when it suddenly opened. Behind it was Marcus, staring at her.

-Revised and Edited-

“A promise is a promise," Marcus told Nikka.

Marcus promised Nikka's father that he will take care of her no matter what... but so much has happened and now he is not sure... what if he ends up breaking her heart again? What is he willing to do to fulfill his promise?

Nikka loved Marcus the first time she met him. It was not mere infatuation when she was 18, she knew it was true love. But one incident changed it all... is she willing to risk her heart again to the same guy who broke her heart?

****************
(Trigger Warning: Mention of sexual harassment.)
Strictly R-18 due to profanity and adult situations.

Seven ways reasons why martial arts are important . 
Martial arts have become an important part of many people's lives, among both adults and children. Parents enroll their kids at schools to improve their focus and discipline. Many adults have made the practice of martial arts a way of life.
Why are the arts important and why do they play such a central role in the lives of so many? Here we will explore seven reasons why martial arts are important. We will look into their benefits and significance for those who train in them.
 
in them.
    
Martial arts develops confidence and focus.
1. Self-Defense
The most obvious reason why you should learn martial arts is that it teaches you how to defend yourself. It is undeniable that there is violence in the world. It occurs unexpectedly and without regard for who the victim is. Violence can affect all of us. It is important to be prepared for such occurrences, and the crux of training is to learn fighting skills. Not only do you learn specific techniques, but you also develop toughness and stamina needed to endure a physical altercation. This knowledge and conditioning lead to other benefits besides just being equipped with techniques.
 
    
Martial arts inspires confidence.
famous, Flickr. Some rights reserved.
2. Confidence
Because you can handle yourself physically, you begin to develop confidence in yourself and your capabilities. You walk taller with your head up; you're prepared, calm, and self-assured. You would be surprised at the change in your mental attitude after a decent sparring session at the dojo. You learn that you can endure, that you can apply real self-defense techniques, and that you are capable and strong.
3. Focus and Awareness
In training, you must be very aware of your actions and the people around you. You become more aware of your environment, which helps to keep you safe out in the world. This broadening of awareness is important in life. It can help in school, work, and in your relationships. It can generally help you navigate your way through life.
4. You Make Friends
It's an understatement to say that you make friends in martial arts. My experience is that your teacher and fellow students are family. Your instructor is more than just a teacher; he becomes a confidant, a father, and a counselor. Your friends at the dojo are part of your social circle, helping you through thick and thin. They become good people to have in your corner.
 
    
Martial artists form solid relationships.
MartialArtsNomad.Com, Flickr. Some rights reserved.
5. Reduces Stress the Right Way
There are plenty of bad ways to reduce stress, and many of us have tried all of them. Martial arts offers a positive way to reduce stress. You direct your energy in a physical way that is beneficial, and there is no doubt that hitting a punching bag is a great way to release pent up energy and stress.
    
By Daofengmusic (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
6. Health
Martial arts is a complete workout. You build stamina, strength, and flexibility. You also develop coordination and balance. You feel better physically as your body becomes stronger and more capable. You breathe better, and blood flows to all the necessary parts of the body more freely. Martial arts is a fun way to stay in shape.
 
 
7. Improves Character
At the dojo, you learn respect, discipline, how to cooperate, and how to be humble. This is all part of perfecting your art. You work with your partners and learn from your instructor in a setting where bowing and handshakes are commonplace and helping each other is the norm. You must focus and be open to being corrected. You use criticism to improve yourself. The martial arts school is a great environment for learning the importance of perseverance and excellence.
And this is why many martial artists call their training a way of life. It permeates a person's life and creates solid relationships and a sense of justice and respect. These are among the reasons why martial arts is so important.
 
© 2017 Nathan Bernardo
Comments
Hezekiah from Japan on April 09, 2019:
Here in Japan there is another reason why Martial Arts important and probably not applicable outside Japan. It helps you to understand and respect society rank. In Japan there is society ranking system Jouge kankei. It is very important that you adjust your language (Japanese) and the way you bow in order accommodate people in a different ranks of society. Japanese of course know this from growing up however it is still unclear for many and people can be easily offended from inappropriate greeting and behavior. In martial art this is very important.
 
In Japan I am addressed normally by my first name, same as most Gaijin but it is not correct since Japanese are referred to by their surname. Only in Karate people are addressing me correctly by my surname. I am never greeted from behind. The kids and students will run in front of me stop and bow for a greeting - the correct way but only in Japanese Martial Arts you see this "correct" greeting.
isaac on April 15, 2018:
I love martial it's improve the perfection of the way you live your life..
UNKNOWN UNKNOWN on January 17, 2018:
I love Taekwondo. Taekwondo is martial arts too. I still go to taekwondo for about three years now and have my blue belt and close to a senior blue belt. THANK you, soo much for this persuasive essay. I'm sure that most people will consider going to ANY type of Martial Art their choice. Thanks for the speech. You have convinced me enough.
rose quinones on November 14, 2017:
I loved this martial arts. I want to try but can't afford to do this and I'm still busy doing my school assessment task.
 
lovetherain from Untited States on October 22, 2017:
I love martial arts, but I'm not very good at it yet. I have no natural talent. I practice a lot.
Antoinette Schokman-De Zilva on September 15, 2017:
Thank you for posting this Nathan. A lot of parents don't know how good MA is for their youth and how it keeps them away from the streets and bad company. Below is my son's blurb - his whole life, like yours, is in MA. God Bless Him for his conscientious efforts in keeping children off the streets!
https://karatemark.com
"We believe our 25 years of teaching experience, and our unique approach, gives each student the opportunity to grow and excel through quality martial arts. Our mission is to ensure that every child or adult leaves our school stronger and more confident than when they arrived. We teach Karate (Okinawan Goju-Ryu), Tae Kwon Do, and Kobudo.
De Zilva Martial Arts will help you develop the drive and energy to take on any future challenges."
 
By
Nathan Bernardo
 
 
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It is about Martial arts and it will teach you about ,how to protect yourself  from strangers and it will also teach that Martial arts are much important for your daily life.

Daniel is now 16 years old.
He's writing his fourth novel.
It's the only novel he's felt good about.
He started it around 3 months ago, but he had the idea around a year ago.
Daniel spent a lot of time planning it out and revising the original draft.
Although, Daniel still had his doubts on how effective he was at getting his message across.
𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩?
Daniel constantly wanted to get better.
To a certain extent, he would long for the feeling of hopelessness when he wrote something horrible, this would make it a good challenge for him. He loved to mold the junk in to something beautiful, or at the very least something palatable.
It was therapeutic to make something bad he wrote in to to something that he found worthy. It would fill him with glee whenever he improved his writing with his own two hands.
Daniel felt like he could do anything as long as he set out to do it.
He could make countless worlds, as big as the galaxy or as small as a coffin.
He enjoyed making something that no one else could, to explore an idea that no one else had thought of. And he could do this infinitely, there was no shortage of ideas.
********************************************
After about, a month of grueling revisions, Daniel sent in his novel to about 3 publishers.
One of them was the biggest publisher in the country, PolarBear Publishing. The other was McAllister Publishing. The third was a smaller publisher that's a part of PolarBear called Warriors Publishing.
The title of Daniel's novel was called "The Quiet Man." 
The novel starts out with a man on a park bench who is sitting quietly on a bench in front of his apartment. 
the man begin to list everything that is dear to him
Items in his apartment
material things
He talks about their placement in his apartment as he has memorized the position of everything in it.
Not everything is tidy or straight,
He does this is to throw people off, he doesn't want others to know that he likes things orderly
Many people are illustrated or talked about by this man
he talks about the lives of other people who walk by his apartment
he knows about their daily lives
he talk about his co-workers, he talks about what they hate, about what they love
they think that he is a normal man, he keeps to himself.
but he is a murderer
their is a man in his apartment, dead, 
he wants to keep his daily life
he likes his daily life
ever since he was little, he didn't seem to have much emotion, he didnt cry when his mother died, his father dislikes him, sometimes his father would beat him when he was drunk.
his father apoligized when he got older, he forgave him, he was never mad at him
his father lived a fullfiling end of his life, he died very content
he thought about his boss, his boss reminded him of his father, but his boss was not as good of a man.
his boss was a serial rapist, he knew the routes that his boss would take, he would **** women all over new york. 
His boss was very smart, he would make sure to days off to "take care of his mother" who had dementia. And even then he would only go on few occasion to satisfy his lust. One time he even did it during work hours, saying he had business plans.
**************************************************************************************************
There were many clever aspects of Daniel's book, the most interesting was the relationships he had with those that were close to him. 
Often times, the main character would leave hints for people regarding the rapist and his identity, but no one ever catches on. 
One time, he even told his drinking buddy, that it was his boss. 
His friend just laughs it off.
************************************************************************************************
Warrior Publishing
"..."
Carl Jacobs was reading a manuscript sent in by a newbie author. His name was Daniel Hernandez.
"A Quiet Man"
This novel had been in the backburner for 2 weeks. 
The whole office had been backed up with new manuscripts ever since one of their novels blew up all over social media for its crass and less than favorable view of women in the US. 
This was also partly due to the author being a young woman, only 23 years old.
They had been quite excited about its release, but it even blew 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 their expectations. The book, "Caterwauling," even made it on the best sellers list. They were expecting it to get in to the top 10.
But, that's not what took Carl Jacobs attention at the moment. What had Carl glued to his seat was the book he was holding in his hands as it was so unbelievable that he had trouble understanding if it was a newbie author who wrote this.
Every part of it was filled with information, that made you want to understand more about the story. Every single aspect of this novel made you interested. 
Even the details about mundane things, like a comb on top of a desk, was interesting to him. 
He figured that whoever wrote this must have been writing for quite some time.
Immediately, after reading it, he decided to contact the author, rushing to be the first to contact him before his manuscript was snatched up.

Inspired by The Great Storyteller. I wanted to create my own version of this type of genre. There really aren't enough of things to read. A story about a young, up-and-coming author named Daniel. 

Daniel is a 16 year old boy, who likes to write and wants to publish his first book. Although, he didn't grow up with a whole lot of friends, the only thing that worries him is making his writing better.



*Note: This book contains strong language and some dark scenes.* 

... 

"Dan." 

"Dan..." 

"Dan!" 

Dan opened his heavy eyelids, exposing a set of hazel eyes. 

'What's all the ruckus about?' Dan thought. 

He raised his head from the counter while adjusting his glasses and stared sleepily at the perpetrator. 

He was too sleepy to even glare. 

"What the hell Philip?" he said groggily. 

The said person just smirked, happy at his accomplishment of having successfully woken him up. 

"You have a customer, " Philip winked at Dan. 

"And she's pretty cute too, " he gestured to the door, "at three o'clock." 

The almost stiff movement of Philip's neck and his eyes oddly reminded Dan of a chicken with New Castle Disease. 

Now that he thought about it, he actually saw a chicken in his dream. 

'But why on earth would he have dreamt about a chicken?' 

He sighed, adjusting his glasses again. He turned his head lazily to the entrance of the bookstore. 

He saw a short, slightly curvy twenty-something-year-old with glasses walk into the store. She was wearing mittens and a very fluffy head warmer—the kind with a ball at the top. Dan's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks instantly warm up. 

He averted his eyes as she walked up to him by the reception. 

￼ 

 He cleared his throat and straightened. 

"Welcome to Elaine's Bookshop, what book would you like to read today?" he said with a smile. 

"Good afternoon. You have a lovely shop here." She returned the smile, which revealed a tiny dimple. 

"I want to buy two books actually, " she said softly. 

 Dan nodded. 

"Alrighty. Can you tell me their names?" 

"Bittersweet' and 'In The Last Days'. You know, the books by the twin best sellers?" 

Dan looked up, eyes wide. 

He'd never actually read the books, and according to several top Newspaper companies—including the New York Times—referred to their books as beyond remarkable. 

"Yeah, sure." 

"Do you have them?" she asked hopefully. 

He noticed her overly excited face. 

He smiled. 

"Yeah, give me one minute." 

Two minutes later, Dan was back with both books. He wrapped it and handed it over to her. 

She paid for the books and smiled kindly at him. 

His heart raced for some unknown reason. 

"Thank you," she said and she walked out the Bookshop. 

He heard someone cough beside him. 

"Ahem!" Dan blinked and turned to face Philip. 

"I think you got a little drool on your chin, " Philip jested and Dan rolled his eyes. 

"She's cute, " Philip continued. 

Dan sighed, closing his eyes. Philip scowled a little. 

"You've been single for too long, " Philip said. 

"Does it even matter who I like? You always steal them from me anyway." 

"Awn, cheer up Dan. I'm sure there's someone out there for you, probably some unlucky, unfortunate chick." 

Dan opened his eyes, they lowered. 

"Maybe, " he stated quietly. 

"Uh, what was that?" Philip gave him a scrutinizing look. 

Dan pretended to yawn. 

"Never mind, " Dan replied. 

Philip eyed him suspiciously then went back to his chirpy self. 

"Alright, suit yourself." Philip went back to counting the money in the cash register. 

Dan checked his wristwatch, it was closing time. 

"Philip, I'll be leaving, it's 10." 

Philip checked his wristwatch. 

"Wow, so soon." 

Dan removed his cap and shook his hair, freeing it. A few strands got into his eyes. 

He tried smoothening it, but it seemed his hair had other plans. 

Giving up, he left his unyielding hair, grabbed his cellphone on the counter and moved over to Philip's. 

"Aren't you ready?" Dan asked. 

"No, I still have one or two things to wrap up around here." 

"You go, I'll lock up, " Philip chirped. 

Dan nodded, grateful. 

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Good night." Philip nodded already back to counting the money. 

Dan grabbed his coat from the rack and walked out of the shop. 

He was met with the full force of the winter air. Streetlights filled the streets. 

He sniffed and put his hands into his pocket. 

He needed a smoke. 

Dan made his way to a dark alley, near his apartment. 

As usual, he found druggies and stoners there. Just the place he needed to be. 

He needed to warm himself up. 

"Sup D, what's good?" A very lean guy with a lot of piercings walked up to him. 

They called him Slim. Slim had AIDs, but that had never stopped him from smoking himself to stupor. 

"I'm K, " Dan replied giving him a handshake and a shoulder hug. 

"Whatcha need? You know anything you need I got, " Slim grinned at him. 

His teeth were in poor condition due to excessive smoking, but he didn't care. 

"I just need a little blunt real quick." Dan could feel his tremors. 

"Hey Jimmy, get my guy here a stick, " Slim ordered. 

"Yes, boss!" Jimmy, a boy no older than seventeen replied back. He seemed new. 

Less than twenty minutes later, Dan had smoked four blunts. He was on his fifth. 

He took a short drag and sighed—it was one of pure satisfaction. 

His tremors were long gone. 

By the time Dan left the place, it was already past midnight. He dragged himself up the stairs to his apartment. 

Locking the door, he removed all his clothing, save his underwear and threw them in the laundry. 

He brushed his teeth and went back to the bedroom. 

He removed his glasses and placed it by his bedside drawer. He fell face-first into his bed and moments later, his soft snores echoed in the small apartment. 

√√√√ 

The next day, Dan woke up feeling discouraged as usual. 

He sighed deeply. 

He sat up and grabbed the hand mirror by his bedside drawer and examined his face...it was blurry. 

He rolled his eyes. 'His glasses.' 

He reached for his glasses and put them on. 

His chestnut hair and boring hazel eyes came into view. He spread his teeth wide—they were pearly white. 

No one would have guessed he was a smoke addict. 

His teeth were one of the decent things about his entire features and he really worked hard to keep it that way. 

He was also 6'3—another bonus. 

His alarm went off. He turned it off and checked the time...it was 6:30 am. He sighed. 

He hated how he always woke up before the alarm. 

He laid back down and closed his eyes. 

The thought of going to shower filled him with such dread...because that would mean getting out of the comfort of his bed. 

Apparently, he couldn't always have his way. So, he dragged himself out of bed, brushed his teeth and took a quick shower—all in the span of ten minutes. 

He grabbed his phone, poured his cat—Tom—some leftover Chinese take out from two nights before and went out through the door. 

His apartment was on the fourth floor. The elevator was busted so he had to walk all the way down. 

Where he worked—Elaine's Bookshop—was not that far from his apartment, which was something he was really grateful for since he didn't have a car. So he walked there every morning. 

That morning was particularly cold, so he'd worn his coat. 

Fifteen minutes later, he got to work. He hanged his coat and looked around for Philip. 

Unsurprisingly, Philip was already at work. 

Dan secretly wondered if Philip slept in the store. He dismissed the thought with a smile. 

"Morning, Philip." 

Philip squinted at him. 

"Well, morning to you." 

"Is Elaine here yet?" Dan asked as he signed in. 

He then sat behind his counter at the reception. He didn't wear a cap. 

"Hey, has that girl been in here again?" Dan asked Philip. 

"What girl?" Philip asked clueless. 

"You know, the one from yesterday?" Dan averted his eyes. 

A smirk was plastered on Philip's face. 

"You mean the cute one that bought the two best sellers, " he stated. 

"Yeah, " Dan said quietly, placing his pen beside his register, then he looked up at Philip. 

"Actually, she literally just left 30 seconds before you walked in, " Philip said. 

Dan's eyes widened. 

"Really?" 

"Yes. She came for a few more christian books, and then she asked for you." 

"R-Really?" 

"She said, 'Where's the cute, quiet guy I saw yesterday?'" 

Dan's cheeks flamed. 

"And?" he asked eagerly. 

"Aaaaand...nothing." Philip deadpanned. 

"What do you mean nothing?" 

"I'm kidding, no one's come by the shop." 

He closed his eyes. 

'Calm down, Dan." 

"Whatever, " he muttered under his breath and went back to his counter. 

The bookshop was pretty cosy, he'd always liked the warm lighting and the systematic arrangement of the books by genre. 

There were even a used book section and a cafe where people just came to read and enjoy themselves. 

"Sorry, dude, " Philip said smirking, not sorry at all. 

"You're an a*s, " he said, propping his elbows on the counter and leaning his chin on his hands. 

'Breaking news, a 25m flood has ravaged the entirety of the city of California leaving thousands dead. One as terrible as this has never been see-' 

Dan switched off the TV. 

"Hey, I was watching that!" 

"Not anymore." Dan hated the news, or rather, he hated bad news, which was all they've been watching and hearing for the past year. 

He'd lost his entire family to the plagues. It was a time he'd never forget. 

He was all that was left of his family. 

"Dude, you can't keep killing the TV every time the news comes on, " Philip groaned. 

"Actually, I can. I'm in charge of the remote remember?" 

"Suit yourself, thank God for the internet." Philip picked out his phone and began scrolling through. 

Dan shrugged and went to put on his gloves and apron. 

He began his usual indexing and arrangement of the new books just delivered to the shop. 

He arranged them by genre and best sellers. 

After about two hours, he was done. 

He coughed. 

He was asthmatic and the dust kinda got to him. He removed the nose mask. 

He sighed and began climbing down from the ladder from the impossibly tall bookshelf. 

"Um, hello?" Dan heard someone say from under him. 

He'd turned too fast and lost his grip on the ladder, falling off. 

 His back hit the cedar floor, hard, his glasses coming off in the process. 

He groaned in pain. 

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry." He heard the voice, which sounded too high pitched for his ears. 

"A-Are you okay?" He turned his head and saw someone kneeling by his side. 

Everything was blurry. The only thing he could make out were two small green blobs he guessed were eyes. 

He tried lifting himself up. He groaned out as pain exploded at the back of his head. 

He tried reaching for his glasses. 

"Here." The small voice said. 

He cleaned them and wore them. 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—" 

"What do you want?" he unintentionally snapped. 

Her eyes widened in surprise. He stood and placed a hand on his left temple—it was bleeding. He did the same for the back of his head and thankfully, there was no blood. 

He sighed, lifting the fallen ladder with his other hand. 

He was thankful the ladder wasn't broken. 

"U-um, I'm kind of lost and I need directions, " she said. 

Dan searched the aisles for Philip but he was nowhere to be found. 

'Where's the douche when you need him?' 

"Hello?" the girl said softly. 

He turned to her, annoyed. 

"What do you want?" he repeated thoroughly annoyed. 

"I-I need directions." Now that he had his glasses on, he observed her. 

She had long, auburn hair with striking forest green eyes. 

She was dressed for the cold weather and had on a head warmer. 

He couldn't help but notice she was pale. Too pale. 

Dan huffed. 

"Do I look like a map to you?" he snapped at her. 

The girl's eyes widened and then they lowered. 

"It's alright, I'll go. I'm sorry about your head, " she said, before turning and walking to the entrance. 

She was stopped by Philip. 

"Hello." 

Philip walked towards her. 

"How may I help you?" 

"What seems to be the problem?" Philip asked. 

"It's nothing, I just came in to ask for directions, " she said. 

"It's fine, your colleague already helped me." 

"Colleague?" Philip said puzzled at first and then he turned to Dan who then joined them. 

"Thanks for the help." She averted her eyes and with that, she left the shop. 

Philip faced Dan and glared at him. 

"That's a potential customer you just scared off." 

Philip's brows furrowed. 

"What did you do?" 

Dan's eyes widened. 

"What did I do? 'What did she do?' is what you should be asking." Dan huffed. 

"She just walked out with tears in her eyes. What did you say to her?" Philip pressed. 

Dan gritted his teeth in annoyance, frustrated. 

"Will you just shut the fuck up? She was the one who came in here asking for directions like a two-year-old." 

"Who the hell doesn't know how to use their phones to ask for directions?!" 

"Dude, chill, " Philip said calmly. 

"I am chill, you're just annoying me right now." 

Dan walked right past him and grabbed his coat. 

"Where the hell are you going?!" Philip yelled after him. 

"Anywhere but here." 

He needed a smoke, quick. 

...

Life is unpredictable. 

From being a bookshop clerk and an average individual, Dan is pulled into a world of demons and dark creatures.

Given a destiny he hadn't chosen, he is sinking fast into the pool of misery.

He's all alone.

Will he succumb to the devil and the demon within or find a way to change his fate?

Find out in 'The Sin'.

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