Which came first?

I knew I wasn’t dead anymore because my butt felt cold like I had been sitting on a cement park bench in the winter. My mind felt half-frozen, too.

What The Hell

I was ordered to move into my sister’s room that very afternoon and I made it my business to make sure everything stayed the way it was when she was there until I was ready to move or throw anything away. Not that I felt like leaving it as a shrine to her. No, it was just she had great taste and had left a lot of her old clothes for me, including something she called “the suit”; which was a skirt, with a long dress shirt and a tie.

Author's Note: This is a sequel to my Non-TG Novel, Missing Without A Trace: A Kelly Mitchell Mystery by Charles Schiman.
This is also a non-tg novel. However, I am a male writing the novel first-person as a female. And I created Kelly as the female person I thought I could have become--my alter ego, if you will--had I been born a girl.

The first novel, Missing Without A Trace: A Kelly Mitchell Mystery, is available for purchase online as a Nook Book at the Barnes and Noble Nook Store.

Flight Lieutenant Second Class Jason Cole is the fifth generation in a long line of military family members and the third of the current generation. Unlike his older brother and sister Jason cannot be fitted with a bio-A.I. This one fact will led him on the greatest adventure of his young life.

The fight started in the summer before my freshman year.
It was verbally bloody and nothing was off-limits; no words were barred.

In the blue corner, my sister, who was five months pregnant
In the red corner, my parents; who were not pissed about the pregnancy but more over the fact she had left home for a week and never said where she went.

Some may wonder about the title.

I know it seems silly be to me it means a lot.

For you see my father's heart gave up on Thursday. One day after June 12 aka fathers day. I had wished him such not too many days before.

Most people concentrate on a person just before they died. Ie the last day they saw them.

Am I greiving, yes very much so.

Still to me my father was a hero to many and here is a tale of what I know of him.

My father was born in 1946 here in Winnipeg to my grandparents Alma and Charles. One of eight children. Three girls five boys.

Claire is a young curator at a museum.
As she works on a new exhibit she uncovers more than she had thought possible.
Soon she confronted with an ugly truth and a witness.
One that has an interesting tale to tell.

(This story in the "undesirable classes" universe can be read without reading previous stories.)

Hey everyone. Since people liked my stuff and I'm no longer doing intensive drafts. I thought I would have increments to the story. Everything in this chapter and series as a probability to be changed. I hope you enjoy.

(P.S. when I wrote this today, I was on cloud nine after. I'm a bit high right now.)

Time on My Hands
Chapter 23: 239 CE: The Nerva of It!

Again with his speed and agility Raben quickly outdistanced the troops. By dawn he was alone about a mile from the northern tree line. Creeping to the top of a denuded hill he searched for signs of pursuit. Hundreds of soldiers were spread out across the devastated landscape clearly searching for him. Mounted troops waited where the roads entered the trees looking for him. It was clear they were not about to give up and he was effectively cut off from where he could easily slip away. It seemed nearly the entire garrison had been deployed.

For several minutes he tried to decide what to do. If he continued towards the forest he’d be spotted and swarmed. The mounted troops could cut his escape route until the foot troops reached him. With his battle skills it would be a bloodbath before they took him down. While he knew he’d resurrect, the pain and discomfort of dying was not something he relished. In addition, he knew the bloodied troops would take delight in slicing up his body and putting it on display. If he resurrected while being displayed... the thought was simply untenable.

Having my sister here brought back a lot of memories. Even though she is a year younger than I am she caught up with me in height and for a little bit she was taller until we both stopped at five two. Many people mistook us for twins as we acted alike and drove our parents nuts like most kids. Even with short hair and boy's clothes people thought I was a girl more than half the time. Even worse when she would wear my clothes as well. It somewhat stopped as my voice deepened, but there was always someone who would point it out, or be shocked speechless when I spoke.

Author's Note: This is a sequel to my Non-TG Novel, Missing Without A Trace: A Kelly Mitchell Mystery by Charles Schiman.
This is also a non-tg novel. However, I am a male writing the novel first-person as a female. And I created Kelly as the female person I thought I could have become--my alter ego, if you will--had I been born a girl.

The first novel, Missing Without A Trace: A Kelly Mitchell Mystery, is available for purchase online as a Nook Book at the Barnes and Noble Nook Store.

Part Three