Many people along my road, have asked how it is that I have so many stories to tell. How could so much have happened to one person? I have to say my childhood had few interesting events, but from the age of 14 onward, my life became much more interesting. By the age of 15, I was officially an emancipated minor, and reality for me, appeared to have no bars to hold me in. My life was nothing but a series of adventures, one after the other.

Many people are horrified, when I tell them all of the close encounters I have had with death and danger, and they feel I was quite foolhardy. I cannot agree really, as I have had more excitement in my lifetime, than dozens of other people put together. Why would I have traded that in for comfort and security? What is so interesting about that? The opportunities and things that I have learned, due to my adventurous life, was worth every ounce of danger. Most people only witness interesting events through TV and the lives of others, but I get to be there, and experience them first hand!

It was in my 19th year, that I had a very busy week’s worth of unusual events. Is unusual really unusual though, when it is a common and usual experience?

I had been up for over a month now, for those of you who remember ‘The Magically Appearing Hole‘, and was still very jacked up on methamphetamines. I arose one morning, after *resting* for the evening; sleep wasn’t exactly an option. I heard noises coming from downstairs, outside; it seemed someone was going through the garbage. I remembered my roommate H, had mentioned hearing bums going through the trash every morning at around 6:00. I had thought this odd, as what alcoholic bum is up at 6 in the morning?

I quietly crept up to the open window, and peeked down below, where the dumpster sat. There were two police officers in plain clothes, going through the garbage. I could see they were throwing various things into bags that they carried. Their voices floated up to me, and I could hear their chatter. “Look at all of these rigs(needles), what are these people, ldiots?”

The conversation went pretty much along those lines, and I was horrified beyond belief. They collected up empty drug baggies, needles, and whatever other evidence, the other residents in the alley had also left behind. They were there about 10 minutes, and were on their way. I quickly arose, and told my roommates the situation.

This was dire, and I figured I should go immediately, and speak to D, my dealer downstairs. He told me he knew the situation, and that word on the streets was we had less than three days before a full blown bust. D said however, he was not leaving, and he would take the heat. I was to later figure out, that D was a part of the larger picture, and his going down, was only an illusion.

I went back upstairs, and my roommates and I, began to devise a plan. A week earlier, I had an odd robbery occur, in which I had $1200 stolen. Now, when we needed the money most, it was gone. A friend of ours, whom I will name K, asked her mother if we could stay with her. She said we could temporarily, and we moved everything we had, over to their house. I will have to tell you sometime, a couple of other stories about this mother and daughter we stayed with.

One of the items we brought with us, was a plant that H had recently brought home. It was a big tree thing, and he fought tooth and nail to keep it. We tried to dissuade him, but he would not let go of it. It was shortly thereafter, that I would figure out, that my $1200 was buried in the base of that plant, and that H had been playing me. I had previously thought it to be M, and had told D I thought this was the case. D had offered to have M hit off, but I had refused such an offer. I really loved M, but H was a whole other situation.

We were at C’s house for about three days, when we began to notice odd events occurring. The first was a car with tinted windows that would pull up across the street, and park. No one ever got out. This went on for a few days. One evening, H, C, M, and myself, were all seated around the kitchen table, whereby we could see the odd car parked outside as usual.

As I was sitting there, I began to hear the sound of music, as if it was coming from a radio. There was no radio on however, and I was wondering what was going on. I said something about it to the others, and they told me that they were all hearing a radio too. However, they were all hearing different stations, with different music playing. This was just too weird. It wasn’t like you could hear it out loud, but only in your head.

We all got up, and changed seats. When we sat in the other’s chairs, we heard the same music they had been hearing! We tried it a few times, before C’s mom starting freaking out, and told us we all had to leave by the next day. We tried to get her to sit down in one of the chairs, but she refused, saying we were all crazy.

That night, we all went to bed, and I lay in K’s room unable to sleep. It was about an hour or two later, I heard footsteps outside of K’s window, and the rustling of bushes. Evidently K was awake also, as she told me she had also heard it. The next morning, we went out behind her room and had a look. All around her window in the soft soil, were the shoe prints of a man’s dress shoes.

We gathered ourselves together, and prepared to leave. Her mom decided she would head out to the lake with us, and enjoy a summer day getting a tan. The whole group of us piled into our cars, and headed out. When we arrived, there were a few biker types around, with a couple pit bulls. One of the dogs was out in the water swimming around for almost an hour. The longer we stayed, the more bikers began to arrive. We deduced later it was a particular local group, that were well known for being brainless.

Another pit bull had arrived, with it’s biker in tow. The dog who had been swimming, now lay exhausted on the shore. The owner of this dog, and the owner of the newly arrived dog, decided they were going to pit their dogs against one another. It had to have been about 100 degrees that day, or hotter. The poor tired pit though, was forced by his owner, to engage in a fight.

The two dogs began to do battle, and it was a very bloody sight. For those of you who do not know anything about pit bulls, they have incredibly powerful jaws. When they sink their teeth into another dog, they do not let go, especially if it is on the neck.

The newly arrived dog bit deep into the injured and tired dog’s neck, and his owner shouted to the dog “shake!”. This was an order to literally shake the dog by the neck, until it was dead. I was horrified and sickened, and a month without sleep left me feeling invincible.

I walked over to the large circle of bikers that had goatherd in a semi circle around the fight, and stood all 5′ 7″ in front of them. I yelled and cursed at them, and told them how evil their actions were. I ordered them to get the dogs apart, with the threat I would start killing bikers, if they did not comply.

I have to tell you, I figured out at this point, they were all frying on acid. Their eyes went wide, and they looked onto me with horror. I screamed at them again to get moving, and amazingly enough, they did! One of them managed to come up with a wooden board, and a couple others had grabbed the behind ends of the dogs. The guy with the board, managed to pry the jaws of the one dog open, and release the dying dog. He crawled off, and collapsed under a tree.

I went back to my group, who looked more stunned than the bikers. A little while later, we all decided to leave. On my way to the car, was a little biker baby, crawling on it’s bare hands and knees, across the hot sun heated rocks, the sun beating down on the child. So much injustice. I thought, I couldn’t save everyone.

I got in the car, and awaited my friends. The leader of the bikers, the one who had started, and ended the whole thing, came over to me. I do not remember what exactly he said to me, but it was something lame about me being a woman. He was trying to salvage his pride, but the damage had already been done.

So, you can see what I mean, about a lot happening in a short amount of time? Considering I could pack that much into a week, imagine the amount of stories I have to tell! Well, this is the end of this one, stay tuned for more in ‘The Chronicles of ShadowMyth’.

[tags]myth, entertainment, drugs, methamphetamines, needles, rigs, bikers, pit bulls, pit bull fighting, dog fighting, acid, LSD, police, undercover officers, radio frequencies, mind control, shadowmyth, lockergnome[/tags]

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