These are some snapshots that I carry with me:
My father comes to visit me with a diagnosis of leukemia after the first. The visit was a surprise, and brought a new computer. When he brought home, said: "This is not yours, but I will let you use it." In the afternoon, he told me he was dying. We played all weekend with the computer and I tried to write the first DOS-based programs and make them do what we wanted. It 'was closer to him as Iever heard.
Bringing my dog to the vet and Seth to her on the cold stainless steel table. Your so good, as always. Me fighting back tears in front of the doctor. She was diagnosed with bone cancer and she was soft so dramatic that every step was excruciating. I could not stay there to watch you sleep. It 's too bad.
Answering the knock at the door at half past four in the morning and going out, where ashesFloating down from the sky like giant snowflakes. The Fountain Fire, which started in the area and had burned about 65,000 hectares, while away from home has been rotated back into the night. I remember the acrid smell of smoke in the air. The sense of urgency and danger, mixed with complete silence and a strange, surreal beauty I do not think I ever describe the situation. The house, fortunately, were spared.
Standing in the hospital room of my father and watched as each breath slowlywas flat. Some so weak I was not sure if he had a breath at all. As I was counting the seconds after his last breath next time stretching, and then the realization ... The moment passed. It's over. He's dead he will never be breathtaking. He will never smile again laughing. A piece of the foundation of my life has simply disappeared.
My mother gave me a copy of Ray Bradbury's The Toynbee convector for Christmas. E 'was his last Christmas, and both knew it would be the last. The smile on his face because he knew I was a fan of Bradbury. I asked him to sign for me. After his death, I bought another copy for reading. I think that gave me a copy safely stored where I can pull out when I need it and remind me how lucky I am.
Believe in Santa Claus until I was ten. Every Christmas we went on a long journey through the surrounding neighborhoods on Christmas Eve to seedecorations. When we returned home, there was a fire in the fireplace and presents under the Christmas tree. I believe in Santa Claus. And the Grinch, too. Oh, and 'was my grandparents moved out of the gifts each year.
I covered my father and my sister and a friend of the State Theater to see a festival of comics in a Saturday morning, when I was eight. It ended when the wrong theater. Instead of cartoons, we saw a film called Terror from the Year 2000.It 'was the first movie that ever made me afraid. For years I was a woman violet visions materialize mysteriously hit behind me.
Read Edgar Allen Poe to my grandmother's house at night in bed when I was a kid, and how wonderful they were.
The Book Mobile, which came to the house once a week when I was a boy. Looking back now, it was a small little thing. But at the time seemed cavernous. I remember the thrill of climbing up the stairs, the smellThat was kind of old and new at the same time, plastic lids, shelves high.
My sister in the background to leave the house in the middle of the night as a teenager hanging with her boyfriend bikers. You get caught. The window of his bedroom was nailed. It was the bad seed. I was the good son. Of course, as adults, is much more responsible and balanced to me.
My best friend when I was eleven years old, secretly in our house while we were away and steal all my marbles.He left a perfect way to fingerprints, the right to return to his home. I asked him to return the balls and he did. We were friends, but it was never the same after. I got something about him and none of us like that.
Being alone in the Community Centre in preparation for a large arts and crafts for sale the next day. I was there to make sure nothing was stolen in the night. It was cold and dark and scary. There were Christmas decorations everywhere.Little gingerbread houses with roofs made of rubber candy. Miniature rocking chair with Mrs. Santa, instead. ceramic sculptures of little elves. Reindeer made of wood and thatch and pine needles. Nightmare. Absolute nightmare.
Walking along a path in the mountains late at night after what little there was moonlight, and someone directly behind a tree, completely unexpected, and scream. On the outside, I just started. Inside, I thought my legs would give out and Icould not stop my heart from beating.
Me and three friends acquisition led away by police because they were looking for someone, and it seems only right. The ordered us out of the car, we had our guns on the vehicle and spread 'em, then we groped and called for the ID was guilty as I have always felt that he did nothing.
Becky, who was an excellent diving attempt at a dive from the diving board to the field and down on his face. For weeks after, he went toLike the Elephant Man look like the nose swollen and twisted to one side, huge black and blue stripe under each eye. I wish I had a camera.
A boy in sixth grade goes on the road to get baseball and killed by a car. We have gathered to watch as he walked round, glassy eyes, kept repeating, "I just wanted to get the ball. I just wanted to get the ball."
Old Airport Road, where one night, two young boys were loversBarrel distortion along the dead end, until it struck the embankment and totaled his car. I was ten. My sister was nine. My father heard the sirens. He has on us, put us in the car and followed the ambulance to the accident. I remember there was broken glass everywhere. The air was pungent with the smell of gasoline and oil. We have seen how the two young men were tied on a stretcher and all stuffed into an ambulance. Their faces were a bloody mess. She complainedunabated. I do not know if I succeeded or not.
The night I left the front yard if I do not think I could go to where my neighbor was a school play. In particular I remember the beating I received when my father has finally tracked down several hours later.
The first time I have something stolen. I was eight or nine years, and I went to the store to get bread for my mother. While I was there, I put a candy bar in his pocket. It is not horriblehard on him, I think, a bit 'stuck on the candy bar. When I went to check the counter, the cashier suggested we have a little 'bread "fresh." I followed him on the shelves of bread, where casually asked what was in my pocket, and before I knew it was in his office, and called the police. I do not think that in fact has called them. I think he was just trying to tell me that made me feel scared, he did. He landed me a lesson and told me my mother hadnext time we see him come into the store. I never told my mother. And I hated every time I go anywhere near that shop again.
The dogs barking one night, and I just follow blindly into the woods to see what the excitement was high. We stopped at a stand of Manzanita, just maybe two or three feet, and suddenly let out a howl of a coyote on the other side. The dogs started barking again, and there was some rustling in the dark. I did not stay to see whatis gone.
The baby-sitter, an elderly woman who took care of us during the day while our parents worked to wash my mouth out with soap. I do not remember what I said but I remember the only time I ever got my mouth washed with soap.
Cast A walk along the road on my mailbox one afternoon, and the search for a cow's heart and guts in a pool of blood in the street. Apparently someone had stolen a cow in the night and localslaughtered in my driveway, which was hidden on the main road. Or foreigners had visited the area. I think I'll never know for sure.
Work on the roof of a house with my father and grandfather. It was a new house, the "dream home", the family would then have two years to build. We were cutting and wood shakes. At first, I saw a look on my father down the stairs. I looked over the edge and asked him what was going on. "I'm going toHospital, "he said." I cut my finger. "He said nothing when it happened. He had not yelled or screamed or cried. He lifted a finger and went down the ladder, fully prepared to go to hospital. My grandfather and then running. I stayed back and worked on the roof, still completely surprised my father in response to an event so terrible. I was fifteen. I'm still excited about the strip.
cutting wood for winterAugust afternoon. Pacific Gas & Electric had in the past summer, and leveled a number of pine trees during the installation of a power line at the rear of the property. I was not aware of the saw, one of the poles, that close to a nest of wasps had built a hive in the ground. Does not seem to care much for all clubs. Before I realized what was happening, I found myself under attack. It 'been a long, long before the last of the stubborn boy finally gavethe pursuit. I was lucky to come away with only five or six spines.
Going for a rebound while playing basketball when I was in my twenties and get on my wrong foot. I landed on my back, and when I looked up to see what had happened, I found my right foot indicate the wrong direction. I had dislocated. On the way to the hospital, I could not remember where I lived. As soon as I arrived at the emergency room, I was under because they could not setmy back foot in the door, and every time they tried, I cried. Even in my twenties, I could not find serenity in the misfortune of my father.
I wear these snapshots with me wherever I go. Some were taken in the most important moments of my life. Others were removed for reason why I can not understand. I only know that they are always with me. But each in his way, my fascination has helped me with horror.
I do not write horror, because I lived, but because I charmbecause I see its place in my life and the lives of others around me, and I want to understand.
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