"Adventures of the Heart"

Chapter 1
I Remember When Life Rocked?

By Liberty Justice


I REMEMBER WHEN, life was so grand and people were happier. I remember when rock n roll stood center stage, and America and the whole world were invaded with the new rock craze.

Singer stars like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Elvis Presley, James Brown, the Rose, dazzled teenagers who often fainted from sheer excitement.

We wore pink, green, red and blue poka dotted skirts and blouses with white bobby socks and oxford shoes with big colorful ribbons in our frizzy hair. Happily, we attended sock hop dances where we did dances like the twist and the swim.

Yeah, I REMEMBER as a little girl, when I was glued to an old black and white tv set, before color tv was invented and mobile phones. I was watching the Beatles, one of my favorite rock groups. These dynamic shaking and jiving stars were a British invasion. Their neatly cut hair styles and tight clothes that fit just right were mesmerizing and eye-catching.

I can't forget songs like, "I Want to Hold Your Hand," and "It's Been A Hard Day's Night." Elvis Presley's "Love me Tender," and Michael Jackson's "Thriller." These wild singers shook their bodies, and made girls holler and scream and throw themselves at him. Their eyes were so sexy-looking and divine to look at with each person's one-of-a-kind voice.

YES, I REMEMBER, when I wasn't too scared to leave my house by myself, though I should have been. Opiod drugs weren't so plentiful, and people weren't so hooked on these addictive narcotics. LSD was the "hip" drug that made users see pink elephants and think railroad tracks were their beds. Unfortunately, many
doppers hullucinated and thought they could fly like superman, thus, jumping off of tall buildings while flapping their wings.

Most certainly, I REMEMBER when people drank, but teenagers didn't get drunk as much and crash their cars. Internet and computers weren't invented yet. People used old typewriters with carbon ribbons. Of course, there was no texting and driving.

EVEN MORE, I REMEMBER when I used to love school, and teachers could spank us with a ruler or thick wooden board. My classmates and I still saluted the American flag, and said prayers before the class began. Children were more respectful to their parents, teachers and each other.

I remember when I didn't have as many clothes and shoes as some kids, but I was healthy and happy. Boys and girls could still walk to school without getting kidnapped, raped, molested or bullied.

OH, YEAH, I REMEMBER when bread was perhaps seventy-five cents or fifty cents and cokes were 25 cents or cheaper. I used to cook dinner for my family quite often.

YES, I REMEMBER WHEN! HOW CAN I FORGET?Tragically, several deaths in my family occured when my military father, aunt, uncle and cousins passed away. Some of these deaths were preventable, but I never handled death very well.

Hey, I'm a survivor, and my parents taught me not to drink, smoke or do drugs. If they hadn't taught me that, by all of the tragedies, I've endured in life, I would be a hopeless drunk and falling down alcoholic, a stone drug addict, and worse. Indeed, I believe I've lived longer than lots of people I knew, because I take care of myself and I don't drink alcohol; don't do drugs; and don't smoke cigarettes.

YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT ELSE, "I REMEMBER?" Huh? I remember, when the world was at peace, and we were not at war fighting our enemies. We didn't have all of these bank robberies, carjackings, and mass murder shootings of innocent people in churches, theaters, bars, subways and schools. People weren't killing each other so much in gang violence and police shootings. There weren't as many suicides and murder suicides, drownings, and leaving children in hot cars with the windows up. Of course, this was the time before the terrorists came into existence and started blowing us up.

Perhaps one day again, the world will be at peace, and crime will decrease. Then, maybe, the world won't have to stay locked behind their doors, and scared to live their lives happy and free.

BRING BACK ROCK N ROLL, so this music can mesmerize and hypnotize the world! Perhaps, then, people won't be as unhappy and quick-tempered. Let's have a rock n roll revival and bring back the hippies and love children and spread love. The world needs LOVE AND A REVIVAL OF THE HEART AND MIND!

                    This awesome book is printed sold in paperbook and kindle electronic so you can read it right on your phone or computer.  Thank-you!

Author Notes Let's have a rock n roll revival and bring back our beloved music, at least for a few days. We need to dedicate this music to these famous singers who changed the mental and emotional state of the world. Perhaps then, the world would be happier and less stressed. That is right.

Chapter 2
Internet Disaster Date

By Liberty Justice


Regretfully, one day a friend of mine told me that I didn't have to be lonely and without a male companion.

She insisted, "Go online and find a friend. There are handsome-looking men out there who are single."

"Ok" I said.

A man named Jed called me the next day and invited me on a date that evening. He told me he was an Executive at this company for ten years and had an upscale apartment and fine car.

I told him to meet me at a store, because I don't invite strangers to my house.

I hopped into his 15-year-old jalopy and we sped away. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach about why an executive would be driving an old beat-up car!

"Clunk clunk clankity clank."

"Oh shit!" Jed screamed. His junk car had run out of gas. Angry rude people were honking at us and giving us the middle finger. "Hurry up; jump out and push before we get run
over," Jed yelled in panic mode.

"What the heck?" I asked. "I'm gonna get my brand new f'ing dress all dirty." By this time it had started pounding pouring down rain and I was drenched.

Reluctantly, I got out and pushed, but fell flat on my butt and tumbled into this muddy ditch. A passerby helped me up, laughing hysterically, and other good samaritans pushed the heap to the gas pump. I washed up in this stinky public restroom that had no toilet issue, so I used daily newspapers to dry off.

"Oh no!" Psycho nutcase said he dropped his wallet and I had to pay for $10 gasoline.

After he found his wallet, we were on our way to the popular overcrowded Greasy Burger Cafe?

Of course, when Jed swiped his six VISA debit cards, the pissed off waitress said there were insufficient funds.

Well, we had eaten all of these greasy burgers and fries, and now it was time to pay. I told him he'd better cough up some money, because I had been laid off my job and paid my last $10 for gasoline. Luckily, the enraged, red-faced manager let us leave our driver's licenses, and we signed the bill with a promise to pay the very next day or we would be in trouble.

I've never been so embarrassed in my life. As we were driving back to
my vehicle, Jed got all emotional and broke down and told me, "I lied. I'm so sorry, but I'm an ex-convict who was just released from jail a few days ago. I don't have a job, no money and I am driving a car I hot wired and stole because I wanted to meet you so badly. You sounded so good on that damn phone."

"One more thing," Jed admitted, "My psychiatrist told me in order to heal I need to give full disclosure to my next girlfriend. I am a convicted sex offender and recovering alcoholic, drug addict, car thief, home burglar, and healing rapist, but I never rape my girlfriends, and I'll give all those benefits up for you. Ok Sugar?"

"Ok, Buddy, I've got to run now. Dump me off right here at this next light. I gotta pee real bad," I screamed, as I flung open that ragged car door and jumped out before he even stopped that sputtering jalopy.


Author Notes Now, the internet is a wonderful place of unlimited helpful knowledge and I've heard people have met their spouses and WONDERFUL friends and lovers on the internet. Disclaimer: I do NOT blame the internet and it is not their fault about my wild experiences, because I chose to look for a friend. I'm only talking about my incident when I went on a date with a stranger who confessed to his many criminal offenses. Women, and men--we have to watch who we befriend.

Chapter 3
Hidden Horrors

By Liberty Justice

Indeed, it was a cold dark dark night with snow falling when Jimmie Michaels, a ten year old, ran to the train station. He was on his way to the Big Apple in New York from Jersey city to pick up his award and trophy for best poem of the year. In addition, he had been awarded the National Nobel Peace Poetry Prize for the entire year.

His writings and poems had become famous for calming and pacifying the nerves and anxieties of some of the top nations in the world.

Amazingly, Jimmie had been deemed as the peace maker.

Excitedly, he boarded the southbound train that day with nervous anticipation. Puzzling enough, he couldn't figure out if it was his stomach trying to warn him of some impending doom, or his being nervous of the thought of standing in front of thousands of people.

For the first twenty minutes, it
was a pleasant trip. The Sun was lounging proudly in the
sky smiling down on this creeping passenger train.

Jimmie saw flocks of seagulls were waving hello as they performed acrobatics, turning flips in the sky and wings dancing, creating artistic designs in the blue-tinted sky.

The train was churning along, and suddenly it speeded up, going faster and faster.

Leaning back, closing his eyes, he drifted off into memory
lane, relishing sweet memories
of his little sweetheart.

"What the heck?" He was jolted out of his blissful day dream by a loud screeching sound as all of the passengers were tossed about like ping pong balls. Trapped victims were screaming and grabbing onto each other's seats trying to hold on for dear life.

Wild run-away crazy train had gained momentum speeding up, going about 95 miles an hour.

Frantically, Jimmie sprung up on top of somebody's back and tried to open the sealed window, but the damn thing defied him.

Jack, Jill and Jed are some of the other terrified passengers aboard. Jill is the lady who is
yelling and panting.

"Is anybody driving this freakin train?" Jack bellowed.
Jack crawled to the front of the train and could view the conductor sprawled out on the seat.

Horrified, he let out a
blood-curdling scream, and all
of the terrified passengers
screamed, cried and prayed.

During this mayhem and uproar, someone's suitcase popped open, and out hissed
several large pythons and
brown and black-colored rattle snakes that were angry
at being knocked around.

"Oh shit!" Every one
hollered as they broke
windows and leaped out.
Jimmie, still in a state of
shock, stood on top of his
suitcases that he had stacked
on these ragged seats.

Falling on top of several tumbling riders, Jimmie witnessed 177 of the 178 riders jumping from this
run-away train.

Jill yelled out, "How the hell is the train staying on the tracks with the driver knocked out?" Jill was shouting these
taunting words as she, too,

Jed yelled out that the train might be on auto pilot Abruptly, everyone but Jimmie had jumped, now, out of the shattered windows or busted doors.

The shadows of night had fallen as the train ripped through a faceless narrow tunnel.

"Oh, ooh, help me, Dear Lord" Jimmie wailed as this monster train took a nose dive off the fiery, steel iron tracks, burning metal. Tumbling, rumbling, barreling down into thick trees and brush, this train continued on its destructive path.

Amidst the smell of burning flesh and twisted metal, lightening bolts struck with determined force, and the rains
pounded down on blood-stained demolished trees.

Then, there was dead haunting

Author Notes On his way to Big Apple New York City to pick up his Nobel Peace Prize Award, the conductor had a heart attack with his foot on the gas pedal. Panic struck as passengers jetted into peril on a speeding run
away train. A suitcase of
some evil things sprung out
at them.

Chapter 4
Dark Shadowy Woods Chapter 1

By Liberty Justice


Late one dark gloomy and foggy night, I walked out of my local corner grocery store with my groceries in my hands.

Suddenly, I smelled the strong odor of a sweet tangy cigar and heard a hoarse cough.

Naturally, I jumped as a shadowy figure stepped towards me. "You got a light?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

A bad feeling spread over me and sickening scared emotions tugged at my stomach that was telling me to run. As I turned around to dodge back into the store, this monster leaped in front of me blocking my departure.

"Ooh you're a pretty little thing." he grunted, as the stinky bastard lunged towards me.

Screaming at the top of my voice, I threw my groceries upside his werewolf-looking head, then gave him a frontal karate kick to his chin. Stunned, he fell backwards.

Panicking, I galloped over a guard rail, tumbling head first through thick forests and towering creepy trees.
Scratchy thorns and red stinging ants covered my matted hair and aching body.

Leaping over fallen tree trunks and broken branches. I glanced up at the heavenly stars trying to find a shining light to guide me to some sort of civilization out of this vast dungeon.

Man-eating cannibal wolves were constantly howling,
calling out to other wolves to be on the lookout for a human invading their territory.

Whoa, I saw the whites of an animal's eyes creeping upon me. It was pitch black with sharp teeth, thus the entire body was camouflaged by the darkness of this forbidden wild wilderness.

Quickly, I ducked behind a thick oak tree, hoping this creature wasn't going to tear me to shreds. A little voice in my head told me to get on my knees, right then, and start crawling on all fours like a coyote.

Well, my hands grasped over this black and red colored snake that looked like a rattle snake, and it stood up and hissed at me with its lizard-like needle-pointed tongue. As it was slithering and striking at me, I was running and screaming for dear life.

Oh dang, then, I put my hand over my mouth, as I heard my stalker yelling, "Is that you my little darling? Ready or not, here I come!"

Renewed fear gripped my heart, and I started steadfastly sprinting relentlessly like a creature gone mad.

Once again, I tripped over some brush and tumbled down into this marsh quicksand-looking swamp. I looked freakin north, south, east and west. I didn't know which way to run next. I dropped my phone and purse, so I couldn't
call for help. "Damn!"

Was I doomed and would I
ever find my way out of these
dark shadowy woods? Suddenly, I heard the crackling of dry leaves behind me!

Author Notes This is a true story told about a time in my life when I was a very young girl. A man actually chased me into some deep scary woods, but I managed to allude him. Since then, I have been extra careful.

There are some sick creepy people out there who have grabbed and abducted children, women and men off the streets or in their yards in broad open daylight.GOOGLE abduction statistics and the justice channel.

See Dark Shadowy Woods Chapter 2 later when I write it. Thanks for stopping by dear poet friends.

Chapter 5
Sometimes They Cry

By Liberty Justice

Feverously, since I was a little girl, I've had a compassion for homeless.
Still can't really understand
why this burning passion to help others is such a strong part of my character. Could it be because I grew up sometimes struggling
and having to work
for every penny I got?

Or, maybe it's because
I am two steps from
being homeless myself.
As a child, I would always
pack my clothes and shoes
I'd outgrown and carry
these to a local Salvation
Army. but mom never asked
for money.

Even in school, Sally used to have only one apple for lunch, so I would give her half my sandwich and half carton of my chocolate milk. Oh my, we
were both skinny little runts.

As I became an adult, my empathy was heightened.
One day, I was driving by an
old dilapidated boarded up
Surprisingly, I saw
a pair of socked feet sticking out. "Well damn, my
thermometer read twenty-
four degrees." Since the
raggedly-clothed man was sound asleep upon a large cracked rock, I didn't want
to awaken him. Besides, I was by myself and didn't know if he'd lunge at me.

Hurriedly, I rushed to a
clothing store and bought
a warm wool blanket and pillow. So elated with joy.

I rushed back and covered him1up. I left a bag filled
with lunch meat, bread
and bottled water by his
makeship cardboard box
bed. Additionally, I left
a five dollar bill in his
tattered worn shoes.
Boy. I bet he was shocked
when he woke up warm
and fed! That's me. I did this quite frequently before
I lost my jobs.

On other occasions, I have told homeless men, women and children to meet me at
a nearby burger joint. Without hesitation, I gladly
bought hamburgers, French
fries and cold drinks.

In another incident, stunned, I cried as I pulled this homeless man back from a busy street corner. "You see, Sam has a story to tell."
While fighting in the Viet Nam War, his legs were blown off when his jeep was blown up.

Sadly enough, his wife took
the kids and divorced him.
All his immediate family
and friends had either
moved away or passed

Of course, Sammy
couldn't work so he ended
up on the streets begging
for change. I asked him,
"Sammy, why don't you stay
in the homeless shelters?"
"Sometimes they cry" he
tearfully replied. "I tried
living in those shelters,
but the other destitutes
pushed me around and stole
my food and clothes." "Some
were drug addicts. alcoholics
and coughed and vomited
all over me." "Besides, now
shelters make you pay
money by the day to stay."
"There are some good
shelters somewhere," Sam

Unfortunately, me. myself, have been laid off several jobs in recent years. Due to these unfortunate trends, I'm not able to help the homeless like I used to. As I
stated, my children and I
are two steps from being
homeless, ourselves.

On this day, however we took buckets of red, white and blue paint and people painted these words on a large white poster board: "Here sits a soldier who fought for the Red, White and Blue." "Sammy served his country and his legs were blown off."
"Now. we have to help him,
because: "Sometimes They Cry." "Sometimes They Die."
We stood beside Sammy in his motorized wheelchair for several hours holding up that
sign. Sammy finally got some government assistance after 120 more human rights
advocates stood on Sammy's
street corner protesting and
holding Up advocacy signs for him. After the newspapers printed his
plight, I knew he wouldn't
have to cry anymore now,
because "Sometimes They
Do Cry."

Author Notes Personal testimonials of issues that have troubled me for years. While some
homeless people may be to blame for their predicaments, others
are not at fault, but are victims of circumstances.

Chapter 6
What If U.S. Were on Lock Down?

By Liberty Justice

On January 1st of this year, Dr. Pain ran into Mercy Me Hospital screaming that the New virus, called zombie virus, had mutated.

A couple from West Nile were stopped at the airport in New York, because the scanner started beeping loudly and the virus alarm blasted to stop them. Virus alert showed they had highly contagious infectuous
disease that is transmittable.

Dr. Pain and his staff were listening to the news channel. The newsreporters kept yelling that all Americans should immediately take cover and bunker down in their homes with six months supply of water and canned foods.

Dr. Pain had spoken to
the National Health on Diseases and asked them what if the disease spread all over the U.S., and what would be the protocol?

Suddenly, every news station started broadcasting as health officials were hollering that one thousand, five hundred and fifteen hundred victims were being brought in. Horrified ambulance drivers, nurses and janitors wore masks and gloves so they wouldn't catch the zombie virus.

Unfortunately, there weren't enough ambulances to go around, so the police departments ordered city and school buses to take the sick to hospitals. No one had passed away, yet, but there was no known cure or vaccine. When hospitals ran out of room, sick patients had to be quarantined in enclosed makeshift football stadiums. All games were postponed, anyway.

Panic gripped the terrified citizens as they wrecked into each other speeding to grocery stores. Quickly, residents grabbed food from store shelves, and had fist fights as they grabbed meats from each other's tight grips.

Dr Pain yelled out to his hospital staff, "What if they place the entire country on lockdown?" "What if the medical protection agency places everyone in quarantine?"

Sure enough, later that night, the Commander ofu the country's military sent a grand total of one million troups to every city in the U.S. We were now on mandatory lockdown. Nobody was to leave their home or even come outside, or you would become a military prisoner.

All dogs and cats had to have enclosed inside high fences and have large dog houses with soft warm pillows inside and a thick covering over the door of the house to keep ice, snow, rain and wind out. Owners had to make sure dog houses weren't wet inside and place newspapers inside and dry pillows. Food and water had to be visible. The animal patrol was assigned to look over fences and take pictures of abused animals and owners would be fined and do jail time. Citizens must not spread viruses
to pets.

Stunned, I watched armored tanks rolling through the cities with machine guns pointed at people. We were under martial law. "LOCK-DOWN". "This country is in a state of EMERGENCY." "The terrible debilitating zombie virus is a world-wide epidemic." police sirens and helicopters blasted from ominous midnight-black skies.

The military leaders yelled, "LOCK this whole country down." "Nobody comes in and nobody leaves their asses out, always traveling to those foreign countries bringing aids virus, zika virus, West Nile virus, listeria, dysteria, ebola,
and, now, the zombie virus."
"Its an underground conspiracy and somebody's trying to kill us." "They're trying to kill us Americans."

Officials screemed, sounding like they were bewitched tyrants, "Everybody out stay the "F" out, and everybody in. stay the "F" in the good ole' US of A." "I don't give a damn about U.S. citizens stuck over seas." " Let them stay there."
"Our country is now under seige and all borders are sealed and surrounded." "Nobody will fly in or out our borders and no-one will come in by waters." "I repeat. dear citizens that I
apology for any inconvenuence, but the zombie virus is air borne and has been widely spread by coughing and sneezing.

"Frankly, I don't want the damn shit,"Commander General Washington barked out. "The symptoms are coughing. sneezing, itchy throat, hives, red sores and blood-red zombie looking eyes." "Diseased persons feel uncontrollable desire for lots of raw red meat, so lock yourself in your room and baracade the door and call 911." "We will send an armoured army tank to your residence asap." "If you're scared to open your door, don't you worry about a thing, because we will be only too happy to break that damn door down for you."

"Well, that's all for now, and we will be quarantined for six months or more." "No schools. no work, nowhere, so you'd better have your bills paid, cable and movies."

"Over and out." "May God Bless you, and May God Bess America."

Author Notes The U.S. is on a mandatory lockdown for six months due to contagious outbreak of zombie virus. All borders are patrolled. No one can enter or leave the country for six months or more. Everyone is quarantined to remain in their homes. Dogs and cats must have warm dog houses, food and water. No airplanes and ships are allowed to leave.

Chapter 7
Christmas Dinner for Homeless Man

By Liberty Justice

                                                                             CHRISTMAS DINNER FOR A HOMELESS MAN
A hundred times over the past year I passed by this helpless homeless man. Jack was always sitting silently or standing by two busy cross streets. Constantly, he always had a tin coffee can in his hand stretched out begging for a handout.

Oftentimes, I would stop my car holding up traffic to toss a few coins or couple dollars in his money cup. Rude cars blowing bellowed behind me as the light turned from green to red.

Now, don't blame Jack. He has a college degree in management; however he never got a job in his field. Unfortunately, he only worked hard manual labor;
Then, he injured his knee foot and hands when somebody dropped a 200 pound box on his foot. He tried to catch it while the box was falling and broke his hands. Of course, he filed for disability, but
they denied his case. Said he wasn't 100 percent
disabled only 90 percent disabled. Jackie Boy is still appealing.
So, when I saw Jack on Christmas Day I yelled, "Hey Jack, get in the car." "I have a surprise for you." He tripped trying not to stumble over his oversized sagging pants with large ragged holes.
"Where are we going?" Jack squealed with nervous excitement.
Using money from donations I had collected, I registered Jack into the Sleepy Motel and slapped a luxury key in his hands, along with two decoratively wrapped large boxes.

"Merry Christmas," I shouted to him. "I booked you a five-day stay." "Now run and take a bath and jump back in my vehicle." "I got another Christmas present for you!"

Well, Jackie Boy came out his palace with a new pair of polished black shoes, and starched snuggly-fitting blue jeans. Definitely, he looked like a brand new man.

At the restaurant, quickly we ate steak dinner and french fries. Jack even managed to confiscate a doggie bag filled with leftovers.

"Merry Christmas to you and thank you very much," Jack cried as he rushed to his color cable tv, hot coffee, shower, queen size bed and warm heater for five days.

Now, five days later at check out time, I picked Jack up from Sleepy Motel. "Please let me stay a few more days," he pleaded. "I've been out on these cold dark streets for twelve
years." "Never had a real home since I was a kid!" I frowned up, my face painted with agonizing pain. "I'm so sorry Jackie Boy, but I'm broke just like you," "I'm two cardboard boxes from being homeless myself," I uttered to him.

"By the way, Jack, grab those large fresh cardboard pieces out of my car, soft pillow and two wool blankets." "I stacked up twenty new flaps enough to build a sturdy homeless card board shelter with a roof and door to protect you from the storms."

"Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New
Year, " we sang to each other.

Well, when good Christian charitable people give me more money I will definitely treat some more homeless helpless people. It's my nature, in my character to help unfortunate people.

Hey, if I don't watch out, I might be Jack's next door neighbor and have to build a card board duplex attached to his homeless house.



Author Notes Christmas surprises for homeless man.

Chapter 8

By Liberty Justice

Plap plap!? "I know your tired sorry butt didn't just lay hands on me?" "Your pathetic pissy tale wimp didn't just slap me?" I
looked at my face in my gold-plated wall mirror and I saw a large rosy red handprint on my aching cheek.

"Yes I did you, witch," Edward screemed at me. "Who is Jimbo?" "Oh, my goodness," I thought. "I forgot to delete his name from my cell phone." I told Mac it was a customer at work who wanted to order a television set that was not in stock. That's the only quick
-fast-and-in-a-hurry lie I could think up. Mac didn't believe me, and sprung towards me to slap me again. Quickly, I grabbed up a heavy black skillet and told him I would pop him on his big-butt head if he touched me again. Shake, rattle and roll as framed family photos danced a jig, and then flew off the wall boomeranging off my throbbing head. breaking up memories I once held dear and near.

Suddenly, the floor shook savagely and began to break open crumbling beneath our very eyes. "What the heck," I shouted as I began sliding in the wide open crevice. "Help!". My freaking house was trying to eat me alive. Out leaped long-tailed wood rats from underneath the old Victorian style two hundred year old house. I grabbed hold of a three-legged couch that was tumbling by me and pulled my legs out the shark-like jaws of my monster house.

Tables and chairs slid aimlessly across the kitchen floor. I, Beth, and Mac were slammed forcibly on the floor like punching bags. "Get your heavy monster-looking tail off me," I yelled as Mac,'s face was a flaming bright red and he was still trying to grab me even as we both were being flung back and forth and slammed into hard sheetrock walls.

"Yeah, bite him Fluffy," I yelled and our little black and gray poodle dog leaped upon Mac's back and began swatting him and clawing him with his paws. Fluffy was riding Mac like he was a bronco rider. Yes, indeed. there were two earthquakes going on at one time--a geological earthquake that broke two posts off my house and made my fortress lean sideways, and a full-blown rumble and tumble earthquake between my husband and Fluffy, the two fighting contenders.

May the best dog win!!

Author Notes Earthquake between husband and wife and dog and a geological earthquake

Chapter 9
Thankful for My Sanity

By Liberty Justice

So, you want me to tell you the raw, truth about my life. Well, here goes. Hold on, because I'm gonna take you on a roller coaster ride. Amazingly, I am thankful I did not fall victim to drugs, alcohol, or insanity. As I look back on my life, I find myself wondering, and, indeed thankful that I did not fall victim to drugs, although I could have easily been someone's prey. I could have been walking the dangerous, war-torn inter-city streets with dirty, stinky smelly and torn clothes. Even worse, I could have had bugs and flies building their nests in my hair. Keep in mind that I am an intelligent woman who has a college degree, but still I have suffered the "slings of arrows" that life has stabbed at me.

I am thankful that I have almost always had a place to stay, and that I did not fall victim to the streets, living in make-shift cardboard boxes under a high-traffic bridge. I could have been and would have been somebody's call girl or lady of the night, making money the best way I can with some thuggish pimp.

But, I didn't. I had the strength of mind and wisdom to do something with my life. I am thankful that my parents brought me up to be somebody in life. Of course, they forced me to go to college and get an education. Moms told me: "They can take your home, your car, your material things, but they can't take your mind." She told me that a mind is a terrible thing to waste.

So, you see, I am surprised that through all of life's struggles and all my downfalls, persecutions, setbacks, and struggles I have suffered, I am surprised I am NOT a hopeless drug addict, robbing and stealing for drug money. I am thankful that life's many tragedies, even though they kicked me in the butt, stomped me, did not make me drown my tears in mind-robbing drugs and attitude-changing alcohol.

Surely, I am thankful that even though my house that I love and cherish was up for foreclosure at one time, I am still fighting the mortgage company to keep my home. Additionally, at one time the repo man tried to repossess my vehicle, but he could not find it. I fell into these unfortunate conditions through no fault of my own. Definitely, it was not my fault that I have been laid off jobs, because the work was slow. Certainly, it is not fault I have been laid off jobs, because the business closed down, and the company filed bankruptcy and didn't pay their employees.

My children have suffered the pains of life, right along with me, but they are going to college, and struggling to pay back loans and grants from the past. I am thankful for my children who are basically healthy, except for one little girl who suffers from epilepsy seizures and sometimes she blacks out. Seeing her this way on several occasions was enough for me to lose my sanity and end up in the nuthouse, but I thank God that I am still standing, or at least, still crawling. At least, I think I am still sane. Experts say there is a "thin line between genius and insanity." Several times, I have been told that genius-like people are so smart that they are crazy. They say we, writers are a little insane.

So, I thank God, and I am thankful that I still have my sanity, and did not end up in some mental institution on my knees counting the tiles on the smooth white floor. I'm glad that the little men didn't carry me off in a straight jacket, tied down, hollering, kicking and screaming, and give me shock treatments that placed me in a vegetable-like state.

Yes, I'm thankful that, as far, as I know, I am relatively healthy with only a few physical pains and emotional pains.

You know what else, my fellow literary minded-genius. I am thankful that I found a Poetry Club filled with dedicated creative geniuses like myself. I was going crazy talking to people who didn't understand a rhyme or reason, or how to define winter as a season. My family and friends said the world is not ready for me, that I am not of this world; that I am alien, because they don't understand prose or the rhythm of poetry. I thank God, and I am thankful to Fan Story, because you saved me from a depression, a degression from which I had travelled so deep into myself. You, my dear fans, administrators, writers, artists, musicians, are my therapists. Through reading your poetry, prose, and writings, I have been able to escape the harsh painful world in which I live. During this travel through time with you as I read your works, I can pretend that I am living in past times or another life style with other people.

For a few precious hours, my mind, heart, and body can disappear into a surreal state,
and become another character in time in your stories and poetry. I can even interject myself into your beautiful art pieces.

Yes, for a few moments in time, I have pictured myself in that story or poem, and somehow, I am someone, and somewhere else. Come take these adventurous journeys with me. Thank-you Fan Story writers!!

Insanely yours,

liberty justice

Chapter 10
What If There's Life on Other Planet

By Liberty Justice

Astronauts from various countries have flown to the moon, or, rather to the planet, Mars, looking for other life forms. These scientists were also looking for water and vegetation and some type of life-sustaining items.

What if the human race could travel to Mars and build homes, stores and schools? Would you venture to Mars, Venice, Pluto, etc.? From what I remember I don't think Mars would sustain life as we know it. I believe I heard there wasn't enough oxygen or the air was too thick and congested. I believe we might do more floating outside our capsule than walking! In additional, if I recollect, I don't think crops would adequately grow on Mars.
Wildly enough, there have been dozens of humans who have expressed such a strong desire to get away from the good o U.S.A.the rat race that they would glady
hitch or thumb a ride on the next NASA flying spaceship that launches itself to the outer limits or beyond to the twilight zone.
But, what if martians really do exist and are looking down on us smiling? Or, what if half human half Martians are living and working around us right now!! Then what!!?? Huh! You know the alien type, the people that move like a robot and stare coldly into space when walking.
What if one day we could travel to the moon in a speedy jet or be propelled in an airplane. Would you Go!!?? Huh!!??
WHAT IF, I know so much because, I, myself, am a genetically cloned Martian? What if?? Huh!!??

Chapter 11
A Lie Unfolds

By Liberty Justice

One day I was in the attic looking for some shoes of mine. An old worn and tattered black and white photo fell out a box. I presented to my moms and she cried and hurriedly ran out the attic tripping over some boxes. Natually, I broke into a fast pace behind her and asked her what was the matter.

Upon asking her again in a pressuring manner, she cried even more. My mind told me to ask her if that was an ex husband of hers. She told me that this man with an army hat and uniform was an ex fiance. Of course, I asked her his name and what happened they parted ways. Mom told me Tom was drafted to the military in Korea or somewhere. She said that he never wrote again, so she assumed he was deceased or found another woman.

I had this weird sensation that something wasn't quite right and that she was leaving out a big piece of this mysterious puzzle. So, I left it alone for awhile to give her a chance to calm down and collect her thoughts.

After continuously staring at this old faded-out photo, it started baring a striking resemblance to me. So, I held the photo up to my face and I prodded my mother to humor me a little bit.

Suddenly, I threw the million dollar question at her. I asked her if Tom was or is my biological father. Finally, Moms admitted who he was, then she flew into one of her crying spells. Then, I threw my famous temper tantrum and we were both on the floor balling our eyes out. I yelled at her that she had no right to keep my dad from me. I would have tried to locate him.

Relentlessly, she screamed how she debated the issue every day of my life When I asked her why, she was scared I would tell her present husband and he would leave her and me.

Oh, how i developed a splitting headache as this horrific Lie Unfolded. Now, the joy has gone out of life and I will have no peace of mind until I find out what happened to my real dad.

Of course, I still love my step dad and I will never hurt him by telling him about the Big Lie that unfolded; however the wide-world is on for my real pops right NOW!!!

Author Notes A similar story like A Lie Unfolds actually happens to people in real life. When lies do unfold these cover ups can be very hurtful.

Chapter 12
Claustrophobia Snapped

By Liberty Justice

Having my anxiety attack, as usual, I was running to catch up on some reports I needed to write at the office. It was my turn to work late tonight. You should have seen my coffee cup balanced on top of my briefcase. Running, I clutched last night's barrage of unorganized, chaotic-looking papers hanging half-way out of my briefcase. My hair was bouncing with each step, and my tie was twisted and wet with coffee stains. I yelled, "Stop!" "Hold the freaking elevator."

"Alright, Alan, you psychopath, keep your panties on," my friend, Jasper, yelled. Crowded in the elevator was a well-dressed, dignified woman dressed in a black suit, pink blouse, and black high heels. An unusual passenger, an older lady, who looked like the bag lady was holding a mid-night black cat. I yelled, "What the hell you doing in this elevator with that cat, lady?" The blackish-orange, lion-looking cat hissed at me with disdain, as if to tell me he'd love to tattoo long scratch marks all over my tender, smooth skin.

Frantically, I pushed the floor to go up to the 45th floor; but, suddenly, we all heard a thunder-like, clapping thud. I screamed, "What the hell happened?" "Did the elevator fall?" Everyone gasped and held their breath. I, Alan, pushed the open button, but nothing happened. Quickly, I dialed the building security, but the signal was blocked. Then, I banged on the button, again, and again, until I cracked that damn flashing-red button.

"Oh, shit!" I hollered. "We're two hours early for the conference,and no one else will be in our building until 9p.m. for this monthly conference." "It's 7p.m., now." No one else had a phone. Impatiently, I began pacing the floor, circling around these trapped rats as if they were the enemy and I was sizing them up to pounce on them.

Suddenly,I felt this severe rash of red-hot pain and heat sweep though my body. "Oh damn." I was in shock, and having a severe panic attack! In a split second, I took a running-leap and kicked the door as hard as I could; and, then I fell flat on my big fat butt. "What the hell was that Olympic move?" the bag lady screamed. She banged me on my head with her hammer-like umbrella.

"Get the "f" off of my brand new patten-leather shoes," Ms. Queen, the well-dressed woman bellowed, as she stomped on my stomach with her sharp black heels. Drastically, I started ripping my clothes off, desperately in a fit of rage, and threw them upside the wall. "Come on Al, lift me up on your shoulder, so I can try to crawl through that air vent above." Well, that shit didn't work, because both Al and I fell down, and I fell on top of Ms Beauty Queen, right into her lovely arms.

Out of thin air, this mangy, lion-looking cat pounced on us; and, with one swipe of his paw he left a fingernail-like tattoo on both of our faces. I screamed, "Ow, you stupid bitchy cat." "I ought to sock you in your kisser." By this time, I had become increasing dizzy, and the elevator was spinning around in circles like a merry-go-round.

"Let me out of this freaking ship," I snapped. Uncontrollably, I was hallucinating profusely, and everyone looked like King of the Jungle lions, tigers and gorillas that were licking their hungry chops waiting to dine on me as a spicy meal.

Head pounding like thunder,I fainted. When I awakened, Al was hovering over me, and he looked like a vampire with long-fanged teeth. "Get away from me!" I yelled. "You ugly beast." "You won't feast your lips on my ripe-red blood tonight, Count Dracula!"

Desperately, I began crying, sweating, and crawling around on the floor and barking like a bull dog. "Wolf, Wolf, Graaw, Graaw." That rat-bastard cat hopped his butt on top of my back, and began riding me. I could hear him screeching, "Ride em cowboy."

By now, I had stripped down to only my yellow, pink poke-dotted underwear, and my red and purple Bugs Bunny socks. The bag lady kept chanting, "Shame on you, you hussy." "I sure don't want to see your stinky behind." I yelled, "Po Po, police, somebody help me." "I scraped and banged that obnoxious umbrella on the metal vault doors that I had snatched from that dreadful-looking bag woman.

Next, I thrust that beach umbrella in between the doors of that iron-clad prison, planted one foot on the door, and pulled with all of my strength. Well, as you know, nothing happened. I fell down again like a bowling ball, knocking all of my human bowling- ball pins down against this cold, steal, relentless door.

Abruptly, I felt was my head spinning, and I fainted again. Guess where I awakened? You're thinking--the hospital, right? Wrong? Surrounding by iron-clad bars, I faced reality in my town's local psyche ward. I thought I was in the local hospital. Oh, no, I awakened in a padded cell with shock pads clamped to my head, and restraining straps around my arms and feet.

Of course, Dr. Freud, Jr. was standing over me with his mini-notebook asking me, "Now how long have you been thinking that you were a monkey raised in the jungle by lions?" "Ah, Ah, Ah, Help me!" "Run!" "Run, Tarzan, Run," I screamed and jumped so hard that my new psycho-bed turned over on its' side. In panic mode,I thrust myself against the walls, as the restrains unsnapped on my feet, and I kicked holes all over Dr. Freud Jr.'s nice white-padded walls.

Copyrighted 2013 by Liberty Justice
Author gives permission to Fan Story to publish this poem on its' website.

Author Notes Claustrophobia is a serious illness and phobia for people who have a fear of closed-in places. Al, actually snapped and ended up in the psyche ward after being in this confined elevator for hours.

Chapter 13
The Ride of My Life

By Liberty Justice

So, yeah it was my bright idea to go to the carnival when it came to town. Earlier, my friends and I were running around eating up the pink and blue colored cotton candy, and watered it down with strawberry snow cones. We ate like little pigs, acting like we were three starving kids. Oh, no, as if that wasn't enough food, we hurriedly consumed two chili dogs a piece. I dared my friends to come ride with me on the Ferris wheel. Jody had a fear of heights, but I bet him $10 he wouldn't ride with me. He took the bet, because he needed the money to buy a new pair of shoes. I had the Time of My Life, as the Ferris wheel took off slowly at first. My long brown hair was flapping, whipping me in the face like a whip. My brand new baseball cap flew off my head and landed down below on top of this bald man's head. But, then, that Ferris wheel sped up really fast, and I clung on for dear life to the handle bars, as my fingers turned ruby red. I kept imagining my life speeding before me. What if this thing broke, or I went flying out of this contraption like a ball shooting out of a cannon ball?

I prayed that night that if God would see me safety down out of this alien, flying space shuttle contraption, I would never, ever get into another Ferris wheel in my life. "Oh, no!" this sucker stopped, with me, and my three friends at the very top, like 12:00 high. I just knew this rat trap was broken down now, and we couldn't get down, or what if it tilted over. I imagined the firemen panicking and the firetruck extending a ladder up to us so we could climb down. Even worse, I kept imagining myself hanging from the handle bars with my feet dangling down from 100 feet below. Um Uh, I saw Jody beginning to really freak out, because he has a phobia for heights. He had a bear claw grip on my aching shoulders, and I couldn't pry his claws a loose. Jody and Ritchie kept screaming in my ears, and I felt my eardrums were going to burst. All of a sudden, this dang contraction started scraping and grinding, and starting up again. "Oh s--t," I screamed, and I couldn't hold it no more. I peed all over myself and it was so heavy that my piss flashed all in my friends' faces. I wonder how many other riders caught my drift. "My goodness," I hope my clothes will dry in the windy, cool night light by the time we land. People may be able to still see the yellow stains on my shorts though, and I know I would smell of piss; but one good thing--it could have been worst-at least, I didn't do the Number 2 on myself and it fly into the faces of my friends, and down below into somebody's hot dog or drink. Hey, I did have the "Time of My Life, though," but I don't ever want any more times of my life like those, ever freaking again.

Author Notes The time of my life, alright. This Ferris wheel ride was one of the scariest with a tough of danger times that I've ever experienced.

Chapter 14
Knock Knock Who's There?

By Liberty Justice

She didn't lock her door! Molly wasn't normally a heavy drinker; however, she had a lot of worries on her mind. Most hastily, she and her boyfriend had broken up that night over some petty silly jealousy; so, she decided to hit the streets, and get a taste of the nightlife.

Cruising around in her 1982 red convertible, top down, she saw a spicy hot nightclub that caught her eyes. Abruptly, she came to a screeching halt, jumped out of her car.

Naturally, in her running haste, "she didn't lock her door. Shoved into the front door, by a crowd of party enthusiasts, she quickly found herself gracing the dance floor, with her tall red pumps, the same color as her mustang convertible.

Out of the sky blue, some man grabbed her arm, and jerked her onto the middle of the dance floor, and she automatically began spooning around, flapping her arms, trying to keep up with the latest dance steps.

Of course, having not been out partying since forever, she had not idea what the latest dance steps were. Was it the twist, the tumble, the slide, the duck walk or what? Party goers will all brand names of clothing emerging out of no where--all races, nationalities, ages, sex, and gender.

As if to stalk her, again, that same tall handsome gentleman flopped himself down on the stool next to Molly, and asked her: "Are you new to this scene? I've never seen you here before? Molly, half falling off of this narrow, tall stool answered: "Yeah, my boyfriend hardly ever lets me out of the house."

The tall stranger who only introduced himself as George, replied: "Well, where is the boyfriend tonight?" "How the heck would I know," Molly shouted, trying to be heard about the loud vibrating sounds of this loud rock back, and this even louder, rowdy crowd. "Well, come on little lady," George screamed above the ever ringing sounds, and spinning electromagnetic lights.

It seemed like forever as Molly and George danced the night away. At one point, she couldn't find those tall, five inch heals she had run into the joint with. "George, help me find my feet," Molly pleaded.

"Hey, boy, I've got to sit down, before I fall down," Molly swooned, an dipped, but George caught her with his strong sturdy right arm. "Wow, you are so tall, dark and handsome," Molly said in a slurred voice. "No more for me to drink tonight, cause I'm half past drunk," Molly sputtered. "Hey, wait right here, I need to go to the little girl's potty room."

Molly zigzagged towards the lady's room. It was only a one toilet bathroom, made for only one occupant at a time; however, Molly in her drunken state, once more, "she didn't lock the door." "Oh, my," Molly squealed in a repulsive manner, "I look a mess, and my lipstick is smeared on my ears and my forehead." "Now, how the heck did that ruby red lipstick get way up there."

"It must have been when that fresh but George tried to kiss me, and I slapped the taste out of his mouth." "I bet he want do that anymore." Suddenly there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Knock, knock," George banged. "Who's there," a startled Molly replied? George peeled the door open and peered his head inside.

"Say, clumsy girl, you "didn't lock the bathroom door." "Well, good night George," Molly sputtered, as George pranced her to her waiting plush red chariot.

It was just a few minutes past midnight, and Molly had just arrived home by herself. Hastily, she tossed off her shoes, and slung her beaded purse upon the lampshade, kicking the brown mahogany door with her left foot. Clumsily, as she did so, she tripped and fell over her own two feet.

Then, she began crawling along the floor, because she was too drunk to walk. As she made it to the bathroom door, she pulled herself upon the toilet, and head first, threw up the remains of the dinner she had eaten the night before.

Slowly, she attempted to wash off the stale smudged makeup and lipstick, but only smeared it further into her long brownish red curly hair. Next, she sat on the floor, and took a few minutes nap.

Suddenly, she realized the hard wooden floor was not match for her behind, which was becoming red and so. "Well", she stammered, "I guess I'd better try to crawl to bed." This time, she half stood up, and attempted to walk, like a toddler would do when they are first learning to walk.

But, oh, no, that was a terrible idea. Molly couldn't understand for the life of her why the room was spinning around and round like merry-go-round. Slumped over on her bed, in dreams land, she abruptly heard a loud thud, and then, "Knock Knock."

Molly sat straight up, wide awake, and yelled: "Whose there?" The Dark shadow answered: "The Boogie Man." Suddenly she glimpses the shadow of a tall,dark shadow on her bedroom wall. "I must be dreaming she thought." "Surely, I must be having a nightmare."

Dazed, she remembered that she didn't lock here door. "Oh no, is that you, George?" How the heck did you get in my house?" "Hey, the tall dark stranger replied: "How many times did you forget to lock your door?" "Oh, my," Molly gasped in horror.

"How did this monster get into my bed?" "Did he jump into my car or did he enter through her once again, unlocked front door?"

Copyrighted 2013 by Liberty Justice
Authorizes Fan Story to publish this story on their website.

Author Notes When women drank, they should never get drunk, because people make serious mistakes when they drank too much. Always lock your car doors and doors to your home and windows at night and in the daytime. Always, have someone walk you to your car, and to the bathroom, whether it's day or night. Especially, be vigilant over little girls, and all ages of boys and girls, and women.
By Liberty Justice
solely written and created
Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Chapter 15
The Whole World's Gone Mad!

By Liberty Justice

Yes, the whole world's gone mad!
Such sorrowful chain of events, so very sad.
Snipers ambushing, firing AK weapons of assault.
Tensions, rage and frustrations; who's at fault?

The whole world's gone mad!

Families crying, still mourning, so much grief.
Dallas, Baton Rouge police killings; we are sick in disbelief.
Retaliation, devastation in reaction to black mens'
Recently, in Baton Rouge, and Minnesota--
angry feelings.

It seems the whole world's gone mad!

Revenge killings; young men declaring war on police.
So much horror; when will racial battles cease?
People tired, all fired up watching news releases.
Marches, protests for justice, advocating peace.

Don't you feel like the whole world's gone mad?

In France party goers were mowed down by terrorist who was driving a van.
Driving over; shooting innocent people; ambushes and violence--
can't understand.
Terrorists gladly claim responsibility; rejoicing in their ability.
Using suicide bombers and violence becomes a sad reality.

Didn't I tell you the whole world's gone mad?

Turkey came under seige; militants tried to overthrow.
But, government and the citizens wouldn't let go.
People dying, families crying; violent outbursts everywhere.
Seems whole world in chaotic frenzy; craziness out there.

The whole world's gone mad!

Now, home-grown terrorists in America's own backyard.
Gay bar in Orlando, man held hostages; killer hit them hard.
I keep wondering what's next; I feel something in the air.
We'd better be watchful and vigilant, because people's nerves
are all on edge.
We don't know what anyone's planning next; it's like waiting
for someone to jump off a ledge.

The whole world's gone mad!
Commentary--Hope the world doesn't take us with it!

Author Notes The general public believes Black men are continuously being singled out by white policeman and killed on the spot. These men were only stopped for a busted tail light or a traffic violation.

Violence, ambushes, police killings and shootings are popping up everywhere, in retaliation to these incidents that people believe to be murders by law enforcement. When will the violence stop?

Now, look at France and Turkey. View all the violence and uproar. Seems everybody is running and fleeing for their life in these incidents. Will things get worse before they get better? MAY GOD BLESS AMERICA!

Chapter 16
My Psycho Schizo Wacko

By Liberty Justice

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.

I didn't know what I was getting into.

Horribly, some people's actions can be deceiving. Rita and Randy met a few months ago at a shopping mall. It was love at first sight. Instantly, they smiled into each other's eyes and blushed. Rita had a temporary boyfriend whom she dumped shortly thereafter. Randy claimed he didn't have a girlfriend. Eventually, she would find out why.

What a quick courtship! Three months later they were married at a little quiet ceremony. At first, everything was lovely and life was good. Then, one day, Randy came home from work and threw a temper tantrum, because he was angry that Rita had not answered her phone.
Rita calmly told nervous hubby that she was very sorry, but she just didn't
hear her phone ring. "Evidently, I was in the living room or kitchen cooking your favorite meal.

"Why didn't you answer your damn phone, he screamed. Were you out with another man?"

"Of course not, Rita cried. I didn't hear the phone because the battery was low and charging on the charger."

"Bam bam, slap slap" as his open hand slapped across her cheek, knocking her to the floor.

"Why did you do that?" Rita wailed as she looked in the mirror at her swollen cheek. "If you ever hit me again, I'm calling the police on you and charging you with assault," she bellowed. Rita quickly ran out of the house and down the sidewalk. Her mother had always told her to get away from a violent situation as quickly as possible.

Tripping over his feet, Randy ran after her, but some good citizens jumped out in front of him. "Cool down, man these men shouted. What the hell is wrong with you, dude? You don't hit a lady." Randy limped back into the house and tried to call Rita, but then, he realized she was telling the truth, because her cellular phone was sitting on the charger.

Randy called Rita's mother's house, and her mother answered confirming that Rita was, indeed, there, but didn't want to talk to him. "If you ever hit my girl again, you bastard, I will come over there and kick your ass myself. I'm an old lady, but I can still whip your ass with one fist. Besides, I took pictures of Rita's red swollen and bruised cheek, and I'm keeping these photos as evidence of assault, you stinky low-life coward. I taught Rita to never take abuse from no man, especially her sick psycho husband."

Several days later, wacko Randy called back and Rita answered. "Hi, sugar plum, he whispered. Please forgive me. I am so sorry, and I'll never hit you, again. Will you please come home? My boss reprimanded me at work for something I didn't even do, and I was angry and took it out on you."

"I guess so, Randy! I'll be home this evening, but don't you ever lay a hand on me again, or my Mama is gonna cop a case beating on your ugly ass." So, alright, Rita went home that evening as promised, and Randy greeted her at the door with wine and roses. Amazingly, hubby had even cooked a nice steak and potato dinner. Oh, he was sweetness and all bubbly. He had never cooked before. Definitely, this was a different side to
him--like a split personality.

"Whoa!" Something happened as soon as the sun went down and it got dark; abruptly hubby's mood changed. Randy has some type of medical condition that causes his mood to change as night sets in, and he becomes depressed and paranoid. For some reason, he is terrified of the darkness.

Ok, now, he's restless and pacing around the house. Freaked out hubby doesn't want to watch television and doesn't want to listen to music. Insanely, he balls up in a corner on the floor and rocks back and forth like a rocking chair, tightly clutching a long sharp, shiny butcher knife in his hand.

"What's wrong with you Randy?" Rita sounds fearful and has good reason to be afraid.
"Do you want me to call 911 or a doctor?"

"Hell no, bitch! Who the hell is Randy, huh? My name is Rudy. Have you been sneaking Randy in my house, you slut? Just leave me alone and stay out my way, Schizo growled. My name is Rudy. My name is Rudy, and Randy has gone away, now! Randy has gone bye bye!"

Well, this maniac went on a wild rampage and started throwing chairs against the windows; jumping up and down on the couches; and beating his fists against the walls. "Wolf wolf, arff arff," he kept howling like a werewolf. Rita dashed for the front door doing a hundred-mile run, but Psycho lunged at her and blocked her hasty retreat. Chasing her around the room trying desperately to grab her, he kept tripping over his own clumsy feet.

Screaming blood-curdling yells, Rita leaped and locked herself in their bedroom, and pushed a heavy mahogany dresser against the door. Horrified, she hurriedly checked the windows for a hasty escape route. Desperately, she tried to unlatch the window, but it wouldn't budge. Relentlessly, Rita picked up a chair and kept rapping it against the thick windowpanes.

"What the heck?" Rita was in a frightening panic mode, now, and was scared Randy would burst through the bedroom at any minute. She was perspiring heavily and her heart was pounding rapidly, because she could see the dresser moving inch by inch. "Peek a boo, I see you," Randy Rudy kept howling.

At any second, Psychopath would gain entry and she could be doomed. Finally, breaking the window with an old antique lamp, Rita jumped through the broken windowpane from second floor. Painfully, she was cutting her arms, face, and legs, but at, least she was alive. Tumbling down the hill, she limped to safety, dragging her feet, repeating over and over: "I didn't know what I was getting into. I didn't know what I was getting into."

Author Notes Rita married Randy and everything was beautiful, until Randy's other personality came alive. She didn't know what she was getting into. He became abusive and scary. How can we profile our relationships to determine what hidden beings lurk inside of them?

Chapter 17
No Wonder I Can't Find No Damn Man

By Liberty Justice

Can't find
No damn man.
Many in jail.
Held without no bail.
Doing felony time.
Robbery, rape, drug dope crime.
Life, no parole, God Bless their souls.
Cells unlocked only one hour per day.
Inmates on twenty-three hour lock-down.

It's no wonder I can't find no damn man.
Young children left without a daddy.
Men--too old, too young or playboys!
Want me for plaything-a toy.
Beat you and mistreat you.
Make me their love slave.
So I will just
Stay single
Just me

Author Notes All the good men are taken and/or married. Most men I meet are too up in age, or too baby-face young for me. Some of the others are gang-bangers and dope slangers, while some are cutie-pie playboys and want the woman to take care of them. A great number, hundreds of thousands, millions all over U.S., of our men are in jail cells for life without parole or for several years. Their crimes range from murder, rape, selling or manufacturing drugs, robberies, burglaries, etc. Hey, so what's a woman to do? I'll just stay single and free, just my little puppy dog and me. Another reason I wrote this poem is because children and young adults especially young boys and young men are often left without a role model to guide them; thusly turning to gangs, crime and drugs, etc. There are hundreds of thousands of single parent homes ran by the mother only. Indeed, some women are as strong and and strict in bringing up their children as men. Applauds to our single parent homes ran by women!

Chapter 18
Icy Fingers of Winter

By Liberty Justice

***Soft snowy breezes

Icy fingers kiss my cheeks

Hot romance warms nights ***

Author Notes This poem is an ode to winter, and the cold breezes it brings. Winter is such a change from the hot days of summer. What's your favorite season and why?

Chapter 19
Helping Hearts Heal

By Liberty Justice

Helping hurting hearts heal.
Hopelessness helplessness hinders healing.
Hoping humanity heals hostilities.
Handling hundreds hardships humanely.

Hesitate hindering high hopes.
Horrible homeland hostilities.
Hurting Humiliating human hopes.
Hordes hysterical huddled howls.

Author Notes Happy Healing Hearts portrays America's recent terrorism acts of senseless mass shootings, killings by police officers, protests, riots, etc. This author wishes: "hoping hearts heal" from all the horrors and tragedies we, as people are suffering. Hostilities, humiliations are dangerous to our hopes for healing. Here's to hoping peace will prevail and a calm will come over the land. PEACE!

Chapter 20
Here's to the Brave and the Bold

By Liberty Justice

Here's to the Brave and the Bold!

Here's to the families of the wounded and slain,
Children who fight battles just to maintain.
Husbands and wives who wait by sandy shores in vain.
Only to be given news that causes torture and pain.

Here's to the Brave and the Bold!

Yes, here's to the children who grow up bitter and all alone,
Not understanding the why's or reasons daddy's gone.
Here's to the men and women who fight wars on enemy's ground,
Lying in trenches, grenades, bombs blasting, planes crashing down.

Here's to the brave and the bold!

Here's to the brave and the bold,
Soldiers' stories of fierce heroes untold.
By land, air, or ocean--women and men protecting our great land,
Deceased; the living giving America a helping hand.

Here's to the brave and the bold!

Here's to the fallen soldiers, firefighters, law officials-- women and men.
War-torn warriors brave and bold who lost their lives to defend.
America thanks you for your great glowing sacrifice,
Weary wounded-the blood shed when you gave your lives.

Here's to the brave and the bold!

Just a little broken hearted girl way back then,
And didn't understand the twelve gun salute; and when,
the uniformed soldiers handed my mother a red, white and blue flag,
All I remember is my tear-stains on a soaked Air Force, Army or Marine red rag.

Here's to the brave and the bold!

May God Bless America and continue to keep us safe from harm!
May we never again suffer threats from terrorists triggering alarms.
May God keep America safe, protected and free,
Watching over the entire world and our allies across the sea.

Here's to the brave and the bold! May God Bless America and keep us safe from harm!

Amen! Amen! Amen!

Author Notes Yes, This is my Memorable Tribute poem to our soldiers, veteran soldiers, firefighters and law officials who love and protect us.

I cried the entire time I wrote this poem, and the harder I cried, the faster I wrote. I wrote as I listened to my beloved country and western music and my rhythm and blues music.

Chapter 21
Am I Not My Brother's Keeper?

By Liberty Justice

Barefoot begging searching for food in trash cans.
Bumming slumming soliciting for helping hands.
Homes are sheets draped over branches and trees.
Bitten by mosquitoes, ants, rodents and bees.

If you see somebody hungry on the street,
Would you give them something to eat?
Or would you just hurriedly pass them by,
Dear poet, act disgusted and wonder why?

Thousands hungry hopeless children all over the world,
Go to bed hungry--adults, infants, little boys and girls.
Rib cages showing traces of their starving bones.
Barely hanging onto life-lingering life almost gone.

Drinking dirty defiled water bacteria making them ill.
Suffering from diseases, if treated could be healed.
Living in run-down shacks sleeping on wet cold floor.
Coughing catching water in buckets, as the rains pour.

Bathing, washing clothes in murky muddy lake.
Boiling but drinking the same water--for Heaven's sake!
Little children lifeless eyes little will to live.
Hungry and wet lies crying baby in makeshift crib.

Third World countries are affected the most.
Missionaries help, some traveling coast-to-coast.
So, when you see "Feed the Hungry" on a tv ad,
Just whip out your checkbook, help hopeless and sad!

Author Notes *** Dear poets, sadly enough, news reports will tell you that thousands of children
and adults all over the world are hungry and starving.

***I am a homeless human rights activists, and have written several poems describing plight of the homeless.***

***These atrocities especially occur in third world countries. Missionaries and ministers try to help who they can help, but its difficult trying to feed the entire world.***

*** CAN YOU HELP! DIAL the 1-800-feed the hungry number. Thanks!***

Chapter 22
Opioid Addiction Full-Blown Epidemic

By Liberty Justice

Opioid abuse
Drug prescription pain killers
Death claims loved young lives.

Author Notes DRUG OVERDOSE WARNINGS: Did you know that over 165,000 men and women died from opioid overdoses between 1999-2014? Also, did you know that over 2 million people use prescription opioid abuse each year in the U.S? ASTONISHING! News reports such as those from the CDC-U.S. (Center Disease Control)and Prevention) report that drugs like fentanyl, and possibly percocet caused Prince's sudden death.

Opiods like fentanyl, percocet, methamphetamine(meth), oxycontin hydrocodone can have helpful benefits when used to treat severe chronic pain from back, other parts of the body and dental pain. Opiod drugs act on the nervous system to relieve pain; however, continued usage can lead to physical dependence and severe withdrawal symptoms. Forms of intake are tablets, capsules, and liquids.

Prince had stopped breathing after taking fentanyl, and was found dead in his Paisley Park compound on April 21, 2016. How could this tragedy happen? This talented beautiful man was only 57 years old, and one of the most beloved and talented musicians in the world. (See my poem, Prince's Purple Rain) in my portfolio.

I cried hysterically just as I did when Elvis Presley, James Brown, Michael Jackson, and countless other brilliant musicians, actors, and actresses died before their time. So many of these deaths were so preventable.

Whatever people do, they should not mix alcohol with drug, because alcohol enhances the strong effects of drugs. Sometimes people forget just how many pills they have taken, because they are so intoxicated.

My heart has suffered so much pain and mystery, because I cry and feel pain for individuals I don't even know personally, as well as my own loved ones.

I stopped in the middle of a parking lot, jumped out of my car and cried in front of all to see. Late that same night, disillusioned, I ran into the streets and yelled, "Prince. Why? RIP! We love you, Prince, Prince, Prince! Of course, neighbors heard me, but I didn't give a care. Indeed, I was traumatized, horrified, and in shock.



Chapter 23
Wise as a Hoot Owl

By Liberty Justice

Words to the intelligently wise!
Hear your conscience that cries.
Listen to those screaming voices,
Telling you to make good choices.


Think your parents are making too many demands?
Too many rules, restrictions and commands.
They are just trying to save you from yourself,
And protect you from everyone else.

Easy to get into trouble and hard as hell to get out.
Don't cross that line or even go that route.
You think you're so slick and that crime does pay.
Ok, you'll have long years in an incarcerated stay!


Obtain a degree or some employable skills.
Means of income to help you pay your bills.
If you get a bad record, it will follow you the rest of your life.
Even if you are set-up, it may affect your children and wife.


Now, if you are a female, your husband may feel your pain.
Or, find out if you were a lady of the evening for personal gain.
Don't smoke, drink, talk or text while you drive.
Keep your mind on your driving and stay alive.

Never get out your car in a road rage.
Could be a trick, or perhaps staged.
Don't fight or feud with that neighbor next door.
No matter how rude or how loud he might roar.

Never give your heart so easily away.
Heartbreak might just be headed your way.
Don't lie, steal, hurt, and no one offend.
Your honor, your life, you may have to defend.


Listen carefully to my life-saving wise words.
Such wisdom, I know you have probably heard.
Live life happy, loving, and completely free.
Memorize these words of wisdom spoken by me.

Author Notes A word to the wise is sufficient. This poem is a commentary to us to follow the path of righteousness and to pursue or goals to be someone successful in life.

Chapter 24
Mommy, Teach Me Stranger Danger

By Liberty Justice

Mommie, teach me stranger danger.
To never ever get close to or talk to strangers.
Never let me walk or ride anywhere by myself.
Mommie, teach me how to dial 911 for emergency help.

stranger danger

Remind me never to open the door when someone knocks.
Tell me to keep all doors and windows locked.
Also, if I ever answer the phone,
Never admit to anyone I'm home alone.

stranger danger

Caution me not to fall for "I lost my puppie dog" trick.
Or, what about that old "jump in the car, your mother's sick."
Daddy, hold my hand when I cross the street.
If I take off running, I might fall flat on my feet.

stranger danger

Walk with me, talk with me, while I ride my bike.
Watch me like a hawk; don't let me out of your sight.
I don't want to be abducted end up on back of milk carton box.
Or, have bloodhounds looking for me by smelling the scent of my socks.

Author Notes I am considered by many as a human rights activist, because I write poems that will awaken the conscience, moral standards, sympathy for other human beings and
mental and psychological
well being of people.
If and when I ever pass away, I want my fan story friends to pay tribute to me by saying I did "leave my footprints on the sands of time"and I did try to help somebody. lol thank you

Chapter 25
Psychological Battles&Wars

By Liberty Justice

Randy is wearing his uniform,
as he rushes
off to War in Afghanistan.

Terrified, I, his wife, Rita,
must fight my own

B A T T L E S.

Scared to leave the house,

Ears ringing watching
scary N E W S!

"Bang, Bang,

Cars backfiring,
car alarms,
S C R E A M I N G.

Nerves shattered and fragile--


Terrorists blowing us up!
against Americans,
French, British.

We, the people, experiencing
W A R--
murder of innocents
by angry gunman

S U D D E N L Y.

Internal wars, external wars. looming.
"National wars
international wars."

Fighting physical and sexual
W A R S.

Fighting to
survive the
"W A R S of
hunger and poverty."

with bill collectors
depleting on our finances.



Author Notes This is the story of a young couple--Randy and Rita. Rita tells
about her fears and worries as Randy goes off to war.
Unfortunately, Rita suffers from many wars--internal and external.

Chapter 26
Life Beat Me Down

By Liberty Justice

Life stomped,
Dragged, beat me down.
Bounced back!

Author Notes I've weathered lots of life's storms--stress, pressure, poor finances,
struggles, but I'm still standing and still surving somehow!

How are you all doing? Are you all still standing strong? "Only THE STRONG SURVIVE!"

There are many poems in this amazing comforting poetry book that are NOT published on fanstory's website.

lol liberty justice

Chapter 27
Bald Eagle Snatched My Wig

By Liberty Justice

***Bird thief plucked my wig.

Swooped down; snatched it off my head.

Warm nest eagle's young.***

Author Notes One day I was walking in a wooded zoo, and suddenly I heard "Caa caa." I looked up and saw this huge black eagle with large black eyes and long clawed toenails diving towards me. In a vertical dive pattern, she aimed her out-stretched claws directly towards me.

Naturally, I started running and screaming for help. Everybody was laughing their butt off, as this eagle swooped down and snatched my wig right off my aching head, knocking me to the ground and stomping on my back. My wig was pinned to my hair, causing it to be tough to jerk off. Ha Ha! It was funny after I calmed down, but that was a scary ordeal.

I wondered if she wanted to build a nice warm nest for her young, or maybe she wanted to wear it on her head because she's a
"bald eagle." Get it-- "bald" eagle as without hair, so perhaps she wanted to put some hair on her "bald" head so she would look pretty for her mate. Well, may she wear it well or nurse her young with my brand new wig. I always wear hat when going to a big straw hat when going to an outdoor event.

CREDIT goes to dear sweet SweetLinda for her photo of a swooping eagle that is perfect for this crazy wild poem.

Chapter 28
Liberty Justice An Insane Genius

By Liberty Justice

Writers listen to what I have to say.
DON'T be jealous, because I praise LJ this way!
Many writers are even more beautifully skilled
than her.
Over LJ's stories, some of yours, I prefer!

Liberty Justice has a crazy creative imagination.
Writer with wild weird fascination.
Her hypnotic psychotic writings about heartbreaks.
Are filled with joys, sorrows and headaches.

She has suffered through troubles and pains.
May have driven her totally insane.
Love her dearly, but she's ready for funny farm.
Writings filled with compassion and charm.

Her lovely love poems tear me apart,
Make me cry and break my heart.
Know what she suffers through,
Can't tell her just what to do.

Never met anyone like her before.
Always run to her portfolio, looking for more.
Most surely without a doubt, agree,
A God-Given Talent, I really do see.

Liberty, you're my dear poet friend,
Surely, don't mean to offend,
But, you are loonier than a cu coo bird!
Such crazy poems, I've never ever heard.

You haze me, craze me and daze me.
Fiery, hair-raising writings amaze me.
Never know what craziness you'll cook up now!
But, the world is your stage, so take a bow!


I REPEAT: Every fan story writer is talented and gifted and many of you more creative and smarter thsn LJ, so don't be jealous or angry at LJ, or for a person writing this tribute to LJ, sweet linda, chocolate, or any of the other poet's who have contests dedicated to them.

BE PATIENT--you will probably have contest dedicated to you, also. Just so many writers to get to.

Liberty Justice is my dear friend. I wrote this poem as a joke to her, in order to make her laugh. Of course, I don't really think she is insane or crazy. She's a very caring person who loves to look out for well being of others.

One of thousands of stories, poems and books available online at

You've read it - now go back to to comment on each chapter and show your thanks to the author!

© Copyright 2015 Liberty Justice All rights reserved.
Liberty Justice has granted, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

© 2015, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement