A King for a Queen

Arielle opened the bag with trembling hands. Upon seeing its contents she stifled a scream and sank into a nearby chair, all strength gone from her limbs. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as an immense feeling of guilt and grief crashed into her. Kolton, the king of Pelon, was dead. He had traded his life for hers. The life of a king for that of a lowly guard.

She sobbed quietly for several minutes, head in her hands before she registered that her name was being called. She looked up through bleary eyes to see that General Ravenore and Counselor Chi had joined Grand Minister Bhenod. All three were looking at her, grief stricken expressions on their faces.

"Arielle," GM softly said, "these are for you." He handed her an envelope addressed to her. "In know you must be feeling but we need you to read these immediately."

Confusion mixing with her grief, Arielle took the offered envelope. The script and seal revealed it to be from Kolton.  She opened it and removed several sheets of lightweight parchment and a sheet of heavier weight, the kind used for official documents.

She looked at the lighter weight sheets first. Scrawled on them in a neat, but hurried script was:

Dearest Arielle,
      I cannot begin the express the honor you have done me and the kingdom of Pelon by serving as my guard for so many years. You have performed this duty admirably and with greater conviction than anyone could have asked.
     When word came to me of your capture and Jhaeros' condition for your release I knew, without hesitation, what I would do. There are those who will view the exchange as a foolish king throwing his life away for that of a lowly peasant, but they are wrong. It's that of a king, exchanging his life for his queen. A man trading himself for the woman he loves.
      I love you Arielle. I have for some time now. I regret that I never told you, but the knowledge that such an admission would drive you from the Raven Guard and my side was too much to bear.
      I wish I had more time to explain, but I have one last request of you. This request comes not from your king, but from your friend. Enclosed you will find a Certificate of Marriage. It is dated for several days after we returned from our ordeals in Susal (so it will seem to validate the rumors that already drift through the castle). It is signed by myself, General Ravenore, Grand Minister Bhenod, and Counselor Chi, all it needs to be valid is your signature.
      My last request is this: sign the certificate and assume the throne of Pelon. Petition King Ehrendil. He will stand with you. Unite the armies of Pelon and Iselon and crush Jhaeros. Avenge my death and the death of your father. Take back that which is rightfully yours. You are the lost daughter of Ar’undale, rightful queen of Kamor. Never forget that.
      I know this not something you ever wanted, and I'm sorry I must ask it of you. As you consider, remember that I am not asking this of you as your king, but as your friend. It is a request, not a command. Follow your heart as you always have.
     I must go now. I have a narrow window of time in which I will be able to slip out of the castle and come for you. You can trust the three men I have mentioned. They have been true friends. I wish you all the best.
              Your friend,
                 Kolton

Arielle didn't even bother to look at the certificate. She sunk back into the chair, one hand over her mouth, the other limply clutching the papers.

"These have to be fake." She eventually muttered. The words rung hollow even as she said them. She knew Kolton’s handwriting. The documents were authentic.

"I can promise they are not." Grand Minister Bhenod answered. "While no one knew of his plans to trade himself for you, the three of us were fully aware of the certificate. The king had it drawn up in case something happened to him before he married. It was always his intention that you should become queen in that situation."

Arielle ran a hand over her face and muttered "Damn him. He had no right to ask this of me." She covered her eyes, bracing her elbow on the table before her, once again muttering the curse.

After several minutes she asked, "What happens if I refuse to sign?"

"Then Lord Mourndane will assume the throne." General Ravenore answered.

Arielle looked up sharply at the reply. Lord Mourndane was a tyrant. He would run the kingdom into he ground and all the work she and Kolton as well as Kolton’s father had done to improve the lives of half-elves in Pelon would be undone overnight.

"He is the closest surviving relative." Counselor Chi added.

She ran her hand over her face again, suddenly tired. “This will never work.”

Grand Minister Bhenod chuckled. “I believe I said as much to him when he had Counselor Chi draft the certificate.”

“I wasn't even there! How can I agree to a marriage I was never present for?” She asked, tossing the papers onto the table.

“Well actually-”

She looked up to see the three men look at each other sheepishly.

“What?”

Counselor Chi looked back at her. “You were there, standing by the door mind you, but you were there. It was quite obvious that you were uncomfortable with our arguing.”

Arielle’s memory flashed back to the moment he was referencing. Kolton and the men before her had been in a heated argument over something she had been trying not to eavesdrop on. There had been no obvious reason for her to be in the room, but Kolton had been insistent, telling her to stand by the door. At the time she had though he was being paranoid, but apparently he had been being devious.

“This is what you were arguing about?” She queried, not entirely believing their insinuation.

“Yes.” Grand Minister Bhenod replied. “As I said, this plan has been in place for some time.”

Arielle sat back in the chair again. She sat for several minutes staring at the papers strewn across the table, trying not to eye the dark spot that was growing on the bag which was also there. All her life she had wanted to be a beacon of hope to her fellow half-elves living in Pelon. She had become a Keeper, a city guard, to achieve that goal. Circumstances had eventually led to the then prince of Pelon, Kolton, to convince his father to change the law to allow her, and other half-elves, into the Raven Guard, the elite guards who served the royal family directly.

Now, she was presented with not only the opportunity to go beyond that achievement, she was being presented the throne of a powerful kingdom. The throne of a kingdom that had done its best to belittle and demean people like her. She was being given the ultimate chance to embody the hope she had always desired to be. It would be a fight, inside and outside, and while she did not know enough of her father and his kingdom to strongly desire vengeance for him, she could not let Kolton’s progress be in vain.

“Damn him.” She sighed, once again running a hand over her face. She looked back at the three men, “ Who has a pen and ink?”

Dirrect Disobedience

Capt. **** breathed in and out deeply as the lift carried him to the bridge. I’m not nervous. I’m not nervous. He mentally said to himself in a failed attempt to convince himself it was true. What he was about to do could be equated with treason under the right microscope, but he had to do it. He would never be able to live with himself otherwise.

As the doors to the bridge opened he clenched his left fist, a nervous habit he’d never been able to shake. The customary “Captain on the bridge!” sounded and all the crew stood at attention.

“At ease.” He said to them as he moved to his station. “Mr. **** please bring us to a full stop. Mr. ***** please prepare for a ship-wide announcement.”

The helmsman responded with a “Yes, sir.” while several other crew members looked at each other in curiosity. They were nowhere near their assigned destination and bringing the ship to a full stop would put them behind schedule.

It can’t be helped. The captain thought to himself. Once the ship had been brought to a full stop he gave the signal to turn on the ship’s announcement system. He took a deep breath, stood to his full height, and spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. As you should know by now, we have been ordered to ***** to assist The ****** in her mission there. However, in light of recent information, I believe it is in the best moral and ethical interests of this ship and its crew to disobey that order. I cannot disclose more details at this time; all I can ask is that you trust me. The less you know, the safer you will be from any repercussions that may arise. The actions we will take will very likely be considered treason. Therefore if there are any among you who do not wish to risk that outcome please notify your division officer directly and you will be released from duty with no repercussions from me or any crew who remain. You will be dropped off on ***** and notation placed in your file stating your stand. This offer applies to my officers as well. I know I am asking a lot from you at this moment, and I wish I could tell you more. You have one hour to decide and pack your things. It has been an honor serving with you all. If I am needed, I will be in my quarters.”

He had to keep himself from practically running of the bridge and down the halls to his quarters.

>>> 

                About an hour later the bell from his door rang, announcing someone standing outside it.

                “Enter.” Capt. **** said, not rising from the chair he was sitting in or looking away from the nothingness he was staring at. A glass sat, full and untouched, on the small table beside him. His XO entered and stood a few paces away, hands clasped behind his back, waiting until he was addressed.

                Capt. **** looked up at him in silent acknowledgement. His Lt. Co. **** had been at his side since their days in the academy. He was the strange sort of man who was content with following one man rather than leading many.

                “I have fifteen people waiting in the shuttle bay waiting to be dropped off.” **** told him. His face and tone betrayed no contempt or disdain, just a simple statement of facts.

                “Only fifteen?” the captain asked, stunned. He commanded a ship of hundreds. It was sobering to think there might be that many willing to blindly trust him in the upcoming endeavor.

                “Only fifteen, sir.” His XO confirmed, smiling.

                “I’m not sure I understand why you’re smiling, XO.” **** told him, a look of confusion crossing his face.

                The man’s smile broadened. “I’m smiling at your surprise, Sir.”

                **** raised an eyebrow.

                “You were so surprised that only fifteen out of hundreds decided to leave. You’re the greatest captain the fleet has. Not just mentally, but morally as well and the crew knows it. The fifteen who are leaving are the cadets we took on a few months ago, and that’s fifteen of forty. Everyone else trusts your judgment and is willing to face whatever fallout there may be from that decision. If you say we need to disobey orders, then we are willing to do so. I know I speak for the rest of the crew when I say, we would follow you into hell itself if you led us there.” **** stood to his full height, shoulders back as he made the last statement, pride evident in his posture and tone.

                Capt. ***** looked at him in mild shock and incredulity, unable to speak. He had always tried to do what was right, not caring about the consequences. Even still, he would have never imagined that philosophy to inspire the type of loyalty and trust he was being shown. He didn’t deserve it. No one did.

                ***** forced himself to swallow, wetting a dry throat, and spoke. “Are we ready to head for ***?”

                “Already on our way sir.” His XO replied. “I gave the order before I came here. We should reach **** in two hours.”

                “Very well.” The captain said, breathing deeply and regaining his composure. He stood and brought out another glass. Then he addressed his *****, “Take a seat, and I’ll explain what I have in mind.”

Contraband Photos

Elismarc flicked through the photos on her display. They were flat things, two dimensional images from long ago when 3-D photos and Holograms were new or just wild-ideas. Some of the photos had been taken using old digital cameras; others were scans of actual physical photos. Elismarc wondered what it would have been like to use one of the really ancient cameras that had required film. The photos they produced had such a dreamlike quality it was hard to believe they were of real people and places.

                She had stumbled across the cache of photos completely by accident. She had been combing the dark-net for hours researching forbidden knowledge when one of the links had brought her here. There were thousands upon thousands of photos of people and places.

                There were happy people, sad people, and people whose emotions she couldn’t quite describe. There were also pictures of animals. Some of them she knew, but several she had no idea what creatures they were of. The pictures of places were her favorite though. Those pictures showed bright and shiny buildings and exotic cities. They showed a world in the prime of existence. Not the world she faced every day, a world of darkness and ruin.

                No one took pictures anymore, unless you were a government bot. They took pictures of criminals and rebels so they could broadcast them for all to see. Having your picture taken was not a good thing.

                Elismarc input a few commands and downloaded the entire cache of photos. She could be arrested for having them, but she didn’t care. She needed something to get her through the dark times ahead.

Untitled Sci-Fi Story (2)

-zzzt-Suit containment compromised-zzzt-

-zzzt-Suit power at ten percent-zzzt-

**static**

-zzzt-Suit containment compromised-zzzt-

-zzzt-Suit power at ten percent-zzzt-

**static**

 

                Kesoka groaned and coughed. She opened her eyes slowly. Her suit’s view-screen was a mess of cobweb-cracks and the HUD display flickered in and out.  Her suit’s AI kept repeating the same lines over and over, occasionally interrupted by static.

                She could just barely make out the stone floor she was lying on through her cracked view-screen. She tried to get her hands under her to push herself into a sitting position but intense pain lanced up her left arm. Oh, right. That’s the arm you landed on. She thought to herself. It’s probably broken, or at least dislocated.

                She managed to slowly roll herself onto her back. She groaned in pain as she did and another coughing fit shook her. The planet’s atmosphere was deadly to humans. Her suit’s containment had been breached and she was now breathing the acidic atmosphere in.  Hopefully it’s only a small breach.

                -zzzt-“Kesoka,-” -zzzt-“-there?” her suit’s com crackled as a voice sounded around her. -zzzt-“Kesoka, come-” -zzzt-

                “Jet?” she croaked

                -zzzt-“Kesoka, where-” -zzzt-“you?” Jet’s voice sounded worried.

                “”You’re breaking up, Jet.” She coughed as she finished. She needed to get back to the shuttle.

                -zzzt-“What?” -zzzzzt-“-can’t-” -zzzt-

                “Jet?” she coughed again, “Jet, can you hear me?”

                All she heard was static and the suit’s AI.

-zzzt-Suit containment compromised-zzzt-

-zzzt-Suit power at five percent-zzzt-

**static**

     She needed to go. She managed to roll herself onto her knees, and stayed that way for a moment, coughing and cradling her arm. It hung limply across her lap. She glanced around her and saw a tunnel that led away into darkness. Might as well go that way. She mused.

                As she struggled to her feet, she noticed her pistol lying in the dirt. She managed to pick it up without falling over and gripped it tightly in her hand. Who knows what I’ll run into.

 

                A blast sounded and suddenly one of the men in front of them pitched over. Jet and Aleryus used the distraction to take care of the other two. The skirmish was over in seconds they both glanced in the direction of the shot that had saved their lives. They looked in time just to see a suited figure pitch forward into the sand.

                “Kesoka!” Jet yelled and dashed toward her. Aleryus followed close behind. They could see her suit’s damage before they even reached her. Her helmet was dented and its view-screen was shattered. Pieces of the screen lay in the sand. There was a long gash in the suit’s plaiting exposing it to the atmosphere and the left shoulder section was very obviously popped out of place.

                “Roll her onto her back.” Aleryus told Jet. The ridged plate along her spine showed no dents so he felt safe in his request. “We need to get her helmet off.”

                His friend rolled her over and gently removed her helmet. Her eyes were closed and her skin was pale and clammy. Aleryus felt her neck for a pulse and was rewarded with a weak throb.  Next he pushed his hair to the side and put an ear to her face. There was no noise.

                “She’s not breathing.” He said to Jet without looking up. “She’s been breathing the atmosphere for too long.”

                In response, Jet ripped off the breathing mask he had been wearing. This planet’s atmosphere was uncomfortable for his species, but it wasn’t deadly.  He set the mask’s canister to oxygen and placed it over Kesoka’s head.

                A few seconds later they were rewarded with a weak cough, followed by a weaker gasp, and more coughing. They waited as her breathing stabilized to weak, but consistent, gasps. Her eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open.

                “Let’s get her to the shuttle.” Aleryus said and he helped Jet gently pick her up and place her on the floor in the shuttle. Minutes later they docked in the ship’s hanger.

>>>>> 

Captain Dazok stared absentmindedly at the figure floating in a bright green liquid.  A mask covered her face, and tubes and wires were attached to various parts of her body. A readout on the tank’s glass showed a steady heartbeat and brainwaves. He was so engrossed in watching the readouts and his inner thoughts that he didn’t hear Dr. Chidren come to stand beside him. He inhaled sharply and shook his head as the medic addressed him.

“Chidren.” he said, acknowledging the medic’s presence. “How is she?”

The medic’s bluish-purple skin became a greyish blue. “Not very good.” was the raspy response. “Her left shoulder was dislocated and the collarbone was cracked. She also suffered a deep gash to the side which caused her suit’s containment to be compromised.  Because of that, she’s suffered severe damage to her lungs.”

“Can the solution heal her lungs?” the captain asked.

The medic shook her head. “If she was able to breathe it, probably; but as you know the solution only works for humans on what it can touch. We injected some into the muscle around her shoulder, but we do not have a way to make the solution breathable and still effective. Her lungs will have to heal on their own. If they do, it’s highly likely that they will never return to normal parameters.”

Dazok was silent. He and Kesoka were the only two humans in a crew of thirty people. He had been the only human for over a decade and her addition to the crew a few years ago had filled a void he hadn’t known existed. Their age difference meant he saw her as daughter rather than anything else, but he still didn’t relish the thought of her being gone.

 

 

Six Months Later…..

                Kesoka inhaled and immediately knew something was wrong. Her breath hitched and pain flared in her chest. She dropped to her knees, hands pushing into the stone floor. She had been breathing hard the entire match, but this was different. She coughed and tried to inhale again, which only made the pain worse and her to cough more. She felt a presence beside her and a hand on her back. So much for keeping this a secret.

                She coughed again and this time she spat blood onto the stone. Her lungs felt like they were on fire. She barely registered her name being called as she gasped for air and more coughing wracked her body. Dark spots swam before her eyes and she felt her body being lifted as someone carried her away.

>>>>> 

                “What happened?” Captain Dazok asked Aleryus as he walked into the room. Kesoka was curled on her side on a cot, a mask over her face, eyes closed. Her breathing was ragged breaths accompanied by coughs.

                “She’s been lying about her lungs.” Aleryus answered him. “She‘s been insisting her lungs were fine, so we let her be talked into a short sparring match. She was doing rather well when she collapsed and started coughing. Some of those coughs brought up blood.”

                Dazok sighed and mumbled “I never should have let her come.” as he rubbed a hand over his face. “What did Dr. Chidren say?”

                “We can’t reach him.” was the quite reply.

                “Excuse me.” a nervous voice behind them said.

                Dazok and Aleryus turned to see a small figure behind them. It was one of the locals. The people here closely resembled small humans; the tallest among them barely reached five feet. The only visible sign that separated them was their jewel toned hair and skin markings.

                The figure continued, “I was told the young girl was sick. I am a healer. I thought I may be able to help.”

                “Please.” Dazok said and the moved aside to let the healer move closer to Kesoka. As the small figure looked her over, he explained what had happened to Kesoka.

                “These symptoms sound similar to stiotine gas poisoning. It usually happens to miners.”

                “Is there a cure?” Aleryus asked.

                The healer nodded his head. “There is. I can’t say how effective it will be on an outsider, but if you’re willing to let me, I’d like to try it.”

                Dazok and Aleryus looked at each other.

                “We don’t have much of a choice, Captain.” Aleryus said quietly. “She’s dying already.”

                “I know.” Dazok replied. He thought quietly for a moment, listening to Kesoka’s ragged breathing. Finally, he addressed the healer, “We would be grateful for anything you believe would help.”

 “I will do my best.” The local said. “I will return in a moment.” Then he bowed and left the room.

A few minutes later, the healer returned with a stone jar in his hand. “I need her to be lying on her back. This ointment goes on her upper chest. If this works, the vapors should open her lungs as well as begin to heal them.”

Dazok moved to Kesoka’s side and gently rolled her onto her back. She groaned softly as he did, which made her cough more.  He sat on the cot and held her arms to prevent her from rolling back onto her side.

The healer took the breathing mask off of Kesoka and set it on a table beside the cot unzipped the top of her shirt just enough to pull it open, exposing her collarbone. He then opened the stone pot and rubbed a blueish ointment on her chest. When he was done he closed the pot and placed it beside the mask. He rubbed the excess ointment on a cloth looped to his belt.

“How long will until we know if it works?” Aleryus asked from behind Dazok.

“We should know in a few seconds. Her breathing should become less ragged and her coughing should be less severe.” The healer replied.

They listened in silence, waiting for the change. Moments later, Kesoka breathed deeply, but the cough that followed was significantly weaker. The next breath was shallow, but calm. Dazok hung his head in relief, and let out the breath he had subconsciously been holding.

She was going to be alright.

The Hero Dies

She pulled him up so, even though he was leaning heavily against her, he was standing. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting his hesd on her shoulder and cradling it in her hand.

"You poor boy." She murmured softly to him. "You tried so hard and look where it got you."

With her free hand, she grabbed one of the arrows protruding from his back. The shaft was sticky with blood. Yet instead of pulling it out, she began to slowly push it further in. She felt his body stiffen in pain and fear. She savored the warmth of his blood as it began to flow over her hand.

When the arrowhead rested against his heart she stopped. She could sense his struggle. He wanted to pull away, wanted to stand defiantly before her. He  wanted desperately to be free of her grasp, but was too weak to do anything but groan in his pain and torment.

She pushed his head closer against her shoulder, fingers gripping his hair. Her lips brushed his ears as she spoke. "I would have given you everything. I would hear sheltered you from all this misery and suffering. You and I- the two of us  could have ruled the world. We could have lived forever. All you had to do was say the word. One simple, little word."

She pushed on the arrow again. Through her magic, she felt the chords that tethered his soul to his body being cut as the arrow pierced his heart. She felt the life drain from him and the light of his soul fade.

As his body went limp, she let him fall. His lifeless body hit the ground with a dull thud. She looked down at it as it lay there, eyes open and staring at the grey sky.

Finally she uttered, "All you had to do was say, 'Yes.'"

Untitled Star Wars 2

Author's Note:

     This is a very rough series of scene-shots. I apologize in advance to any hard-core Star Wars fans who may read it and find canonical and technical errors and misconceptions in it (especially regarding the Jedi and the Force). I am a big  fan of Star Wars, but have not been able to express that love for some time (a long story that does not have a place here) and this has led to a lack of knowledge about much outside of the movies. As with most of my scene-shots it is mostly un-edited, nor did I do any research for it. In light of that, please forgive the lack of planet names and other species. I simply wrote what came to me based on what I already know. Also, it is not intended to have any relation or bearing to the current or previous cannon. It simply occurs in the same GFFA. Thank you for your understanding, and may the Force be with you.

***********************************************************************************


Cast
     Captian Nohrann- Zabrak
    Un-named Padwan - Human 
    Skippy- Twi'lek

     Captain Nohrann stared at the figure lying on the bed and finally understood the human phrase "déjà vu." The scene reminded him of the first time he and the former Padawan had met.
     Seven years ago, he and his crew had found the you human female severely injured and hiding among their cargo. While the fact that they had a stowaway was a surprise, the fact that that the stowaway was a Jedi was even more so.
     Only a few days before, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, now Emporer Palpatine, had declared the Jedi to be traitors. Any sightings were to be reported immediately. However, Nohrann and his crew had never reported her and had instead gave her some much needed medical assistance and sanctuary.
     Later, when she had asked why, Norhrann told her that a Jedi had saved his life years earlier. When asked how he could repay him, the Jedi told him that he could do so by someday helping a Jedi who needed it. The captain hadn't seen a Jedi until he had found her in his cargo hold.
     With the captain and the rest of the crew willing to keep her secret, the girl joined the crew of the Star Sprite. Over the next few years she had slowly changed. Her demeanor was less reserved and she often filled the ship with laughter. She had traded her Jedi robes for clothes more suited for her new identity. Her hair, which had always been bound up, was left to grow free and was now a mass of curls. While she had not been able to bring herself to cut off her Padawan braid, she had added similar braids so it was no longer obvious.
     She had also traded her lightsaber for two blasters. The lightsaber, along with a Clone Tropper helmet were always locked away in her cabin. She still practiced with it, but only when there were no passengers on the ship. Her real name and the reason she had the helmet were two things neither Nohrahnn nor his crew had ever asked her about.
     She had proven herself to be a capable crew member and a good friend. Nohrahnn knew she had nightmares and struggled with the loss of what had been her only family, even though she hid it well. He also knew it was a struggle for her to be unable to use and rely on the Force, the ever-present power she and so few others now had access to. It was this particular struggle that had put them in their current predicament.
     While working a job on (Planet), which was heavily infested with Imperial troops, she and several other had been caught in an explosion. She had saved the others by using the Force to push them out of the blast radius. She, however, had taken the brunt of the blast. A family who child had been among those saved offered them a place to hide for awhile. She now lay in a spare room with a broken leg, cracked ribs, several burns, and possibly a concussion and internal bleeding.
     Her heroics had saved lives, but had also alerted to the local Imps to the presence of a "Force-sensitive" and possible Jedi survivor. He and his crew were now trapped on (Planet). They were unable to reach their ship, and taking her to a med-center was not an option.
    One of his crew, a Twi'lek nicknamed Skippy, had been a medic during the Clone Wars. He had done what he could for her, but she was still in a lot of pain. What made it worse, for her at least, was the that she was unable to use the Force to hasten her healing. She would have to rely solely on her fellow crew members and her body's natural healing rate.
     Furthermore, they still had a job that needed finishing.

To the Forgotten

     Hey, I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to let you know, that no matter what, I will always remember you. I know you don’t think you are very important, and to most people you probably aren’t; but you’re important to me. You are one of the reasons I get up in the morning. You are one of the reasons I can keep on going, no matter how bad it gets. Your smile, your passion, your  love for life, the crazy way you “freak out” about the things you love- these are all precious to me. You may think you’ll never amount to anything, and the world probably thinks so too. I don’t. I know that I would not be where I am today without you. You have inspired me to become what I am.

     Unfortunately, as the years pass, you will probably be forgotten by most. Your name will never be in lights or flashed in the credits; but it will always be a name that is burned into my soul. It is a name that will be followed by “Who’s that?” and then I will have the amazing chance to tell the world about you. Rest assured that I will tell them, even though I know they will forget in the next five minutes. I will tell them your name and your story because you are important to me, and you always will be. Just as you pass on my name, I will pass on yours.

     Below is a poem I found for you, whenever you are feeling down and forgotten, read it. It will remind you that not everyone who is important makes it into the history books. Sometimes, the most important people are those who no one remembers.

The Death of an Unknown

There was a man who died today,

I do not know his name.

I know he was born,

He lived, he died,

And that he died today.

I probably never saw him,

On TV or in the news,

And he was probably not the most popular,

In high school or at work.

He was probably only well known,

By his children and his wife,

And might even have a friend or two,

Who will miss him because he's gone.

There was also a woman who died today,

Her story is much the same;

But possibly the only thing they share,

Is that they died,

The death of an unknown.

Yet being unknown is not so bad,

For it is a fate that most share.

So few are known,

Some by design,

But many just by chance.

The unknown are those

Who make the known,

Who pass along their name.

Just as a house is not a house,

Without its boards and nails,

Fame cannot be obtained,

Without those who have none.

So if fame is what you seek,

I wish you the best of luck;

But for those who at the end of the day

Are no more known than before,

Don't be depressed,

And don't be sad,

For you help the world to spin.

Someone succeeded,

Because someone failed.

There cannot  be the death of a known,

Without,

The death of an unknown.

-Tiffiny Hagan

Sincerely,

Someone who will always remember.