For the mother, the sibling and the friends.

HOMESICK

adj. - Acutely longing for one's family or home.
 

adj. - som har hjemve

adj. - heimwehkrank 

adj. - qui a le mal du pays, qui s'ennuie de ses parents (un enfant)

adj. - 회향병의, 고향을 몹시 그리워 하는

In any language the meaning of being homesick is not an attractive one. To acutely long for family or home is a hard thing to admit because being independent is important, especially to those who have chosen to put themselves in a possible homesick scenario. Especially to me.

I never did understand how people could be homesick unless they were forced away from home. Having not set foot in my mother's house in 18 months, hugged my brother, played with my niece, laughed with my friends or simply woken up to a comforting familiar British brisk morning, I'm beginning to understand. It's a feeling I'm not particularly comfortable with as it puts an odd amount of pressure on current circumstances. Every great day is slightly tainted with the thoughts of my niece drawing me pictures. Every cheap foreign meal is less welcome than the thoughts of eating with my family. All the beautiful pictures taken are not going to be as valuable as those I could take of my nephew whom I've never met.

Homesickness is not a familiar feeling and it's not a welcome feeling. I'm not acutely longing but I'm longing all the same and each day I think that I'm that much closer to having a cup of tea with my mum, playing with my niece and nephew, hugging my brother and sis-in-law and laughing once more with my friends.

92 days and counting.

Cambodia's love

It's taken me a while to write this blog entry and for two reasons. The first is that I was in no way ready to write. Cambodia was extraordinary and I was so consumed by it that I couldn't focus on getting it on to paper, I needed to let it all sink in. The second reason was that, well, I didn't quite know what to write? How do I explain Cambodia and it's people? How do I explain the sheer love and happiness that seems to radiate from them in all their poverty and especially in the shadow of Pol Pot. It's hard to put words to it but I'm going to try.

I've been to quite a few countries now where poverty is rife. The rich and the poor live side by side with no middle ground. The wealthy rise from their western beds, have hot showers rinsing the dirt off with shampoos and soaps, they eat a hearty breakfast, hop in their air conditioned cars and drive off for another day of work. As they drive they will pass poverty stricken families who will watch these modern people rushing about their lives as they go about their simple ones. This isn't just in Asia of course, this happens worldwide but here it just seems different. There is no space between the classes, they simply exist together with no questions and strange as it may be, they almost seem blind to each other. On one street there could be five rich households and right next door, families that have no running water, little food and only each other to keep themselves entertained. These strange relationships, if you can call them that, can be found in Cambodia too but to me, it's no where near as dramatic as anywhere else I've been. 

There is a kind of general love between everyone in Cambodia. A respect and consideration that gently graces each and every person no matter their financial status. You watch wealthier people bypass chain stores and head directly to poor street vendors always showing each other kindness. The sick and poor who beg on the streets and try to sell their goods to tourists will often get business from passing locals who spend their money on books and tat I assume they already own. I witnessed younger Cambodians helping their elders and vice versa with simple things like pushing a bike or shaking fruit from trees. Often I watched strangers stop and briefly chat and play with children in the street, sometimes buying them a bag of crickets before departing. Everywhere you look you find the rich and poor walking side by side and unlike other countries, here they are more than aware of each other. For me it was a disconcerting experience. We don't show each other that kind of kindness where I live. We are too consumed by our own lives to help others with the simplest of tasks so often. It made me sad to belong to a country like that and long to call somewhere like Cambodia home. A place that has gone through hell but instead of stew in their grief or shut the world out, they have become some of the most loving people I've ever met.

 

Many don't know the story of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. I certainly didn't know much before I visited Cambodia. I knew of Pol Pot and his genocide but I was in no way ready for the horrifying details that I came to learn. I can't image having my family ripped apart, watching neighbors and friends disappear overnight or simply witness my country being broken so dramatically. Unfortunately these things have happened too many times in the past. This time however Pol Pot and his minions make Hitler, as a person, look like a puppy. Hitler invented the term 'cleansing' and it seems the Khmer rouge adopted it with pleasure however, as horrific and tragic as Auschwitz was, Cambodia took it to a whole new level. 

In 1975 the Khmer rouge took over and their dream was to turn Cambodia in to a Communist country. Of course this meant ridding the nation of capitalists which included anyone of wealth or learning and of course they must rid themselves of anyone not Cambodian which included Chinese, Thai's, Muslims, Christians and of course whites. The list is endless of what was not acceptable and the list extremely short for what was. All they wanted and needed were simple farming people whom they could mold and shape in to perfect communists. In doing all of this they brought about one of the worst genocides in modern history, brutally murdering nearly 2 million innocent people out of only 7 million. We can painfully reflect upon ethnic cleansing in WW2, Rwanda, Former Yugoslavia and even Sudan but for me there is something different about Cambodia. I think it's the sheer brutality, the lack of bullets may be it. The lack of worth in a human life that they would rather beat them to death with clear effort than take a bullet and end it quickly. All war is horrific and I'm in awe of anyone whom has lived through one. 

There is a place called S-21 in Phnom Pehn which was once a school. When the rouge took over it was turned in to a prison camp but not just any prison camp, this is one where they tortured and murdered man after man, woman after woman and even child after child. People who simply wanted freedom, people who had been educated, innocent children who had undesirable parents and even people who just wore glasses. This all sounds too familiar. 

These souls were stripped of life for no reason at all and when we visited S-21 you were more than aware of it. Untouched S-21 is a terrifying place that everyone should see if only to witness the brutality of man. A place where they felt bullets were worth more to them than human lives so instead beat their prisoners to death.

 

 

This prison murdered too many to mention but it wasn't just here that death lurked. People were sent from the cities to live in the country. Whilst there they were stripped of everything and forced to wear black outfits so every person was equal. The crazy thing about it was that these people were never going to be equal. They were beaten and raped by the rouge soldiers. Forced against their will to work endlessly to provide food and arms for the same soldiers that were murdering their families and refusing them the most basic things in life, like food or water. For years the soldiers tortured the people, murdered their families and stood by as thousands and thousands died from neglect. If they didn't die in camps they would have been taken to a place now known as 'The killing fields'.

    The Killing fields was in the simplest way a place to torture, murder and get rid of bodies away from gazing eyes. All that needs to be said is that this place broke my heart as I'm sure it did to thousands who have visited. Mass graves litter the land, bones still protrude from the ground after a rain and the monument above is stacked with the remains of the people who perished in such a horrific manner. This place should be seen by all so that we can learn and attempt not to let anyone make this mistake again, just like we should visit all the other places around the world like it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Rouge only officially lasted until 1979, just shy of 4 years of hell. In that time they murdered nearly 2 million people and for years after more died at their hands. The Rouge continued to kill and raid villages from their jungle hideouts and the land mines still to this day kill people and precious animals. The aftermath for those who survived it and who lost family or were brutally hurt themselves isn't as obvious as it could be. People have simply got on with it. The wounded may be living in poverty but they are shown kindness in the streets and they themselves radiate an incomprehensible happiness. It's baffling. I will never fully understand what the Cambodian people went through and I'll never understand how they took so much and have come out the other side even more beautiful as before they went in. They have taught me a great deal about family and simply about caring and loving each other. They have also taught me an extremely valuable lesson of taking time. Taking time to relax and appreciate myself, my friends and family and the world around me. So for that, I thank them and one day when I return I'll find out what else they have to teach.

The day the darkness came

Families are fleeing their homes, children are separated from their parents and then there's me. I'm alone but no more or no less terrified of what's about to happen. I've seen it once before and to this day, I've feared it as if it may one day find me, which it had. The sudden darkness, the growling sounds and the fatal aftermath. The community is terrified, more than terrified if there is such a thing? I can feel death coming.

I rush out of hiding and I'm instantly shadowed by a large mass of grey Jack fish. Usually I would be scared of them but they barely notice me. I join their group, using them to protect myself. They erratically move over the coral, colliding with other fish all trying to escape. Suddenly the school divides and I'm left alone, open to the sea. Looking around desperately I can't help but absorb the devastation that is happening, and the darkness hasn't even begun. I notice the sun first, how despite what's happening it's shimmering and throwing beams out on to my multicoloured home. It's beautiful. I remember how it was even more beautiful years past.

A lone Clown fish breaks through a beam of light, thrashing and jerking, agony showing on every stripe. In fear I swim away and join another large group of fish. This time it's a real mix, some like me and some that would not normally interact but in panic we have all gathered for protection.

Looking down I can see eyes, hundreds of eyes watching us as they shelter in the shadows beneath. I want to stop and warn them, warn them that they're not safe. Even those who can disguise themselves aren't safe. The darkness sees us all.

I can't stop. Must keep moving.

Just as we begin to put some distance between us and the war behind, I'm thrown backwards through the water. Dazed, I half drift and half swim around. My vision takes time to come back to me. Through a haze of bubbles a blue starfish gently floats towards me, quietly drifting, missing it's legs. Behind the damaged starfish I can just make out what was once our large group but is now a mixture of parts and still dying fish. Another blast suddenly comes from behind but I can't move, paralyzed with fear and not knowing where to go. Where can I go? I decide to hover between two soft corals, each and every one of it's fingers pulsating with terror.

Then, I begin to see it, the slow movement of the darkness above. I'm not sure what it is but it's big and it overpowers the sun. The water is quivering around me and I hear the sounds of death from nearby. I take my chance and very slowly swim out of my hiding place. There are downward falling bubbles and streams of something thicker than water. Above that, the overwhelming darkness. The thick water makes my once clear and bright home darker and fish turn to shadows. I watch the thickness engulf them and then their shadows fall heavily to the ocean floor. Larger shadows that are probably sharks or rays ebb away to nothing, racing to the deeper waters. A path that I can't follow.

Without really thinking I race out from the edge of the reef. I swim with all my might dashing past the once peaceful community, manoeuvring through the dying kelp, avoiding the thick water and floating dead corals. I come to a large and very old sponge family and take cover beneath their long arms. There are other fish under here with me, the lucky ones. Looking out to the war zone I note the casualties who have perished so suddenly. They are everything that make our home magnificent. The seahorses, the octopus, crabs, jellyfish, urchins and the hundreds of fish of all colours. The darkness is destroying it all.

As i watch it all being broken apart I begin to hear it, the slow groan and that strange ripping sound. The last time I heard that noise a large wall dragged along the sea floor and swept up everything in it's path. I saw a dead dolphin tangled in it. That was the first time I'd ever seen one.

Looking to the other fish, we all decide to leave the old sponges safe embrace and make our way to deeper waters. We can't go too far for the currents are too strong, but maybe we can get far enough away and wait until the darkness has gone? I swim out first and the others follow. The water is hot and feels strange, like swimming through millions of hot bubbles. I'm too scared to swim amongst the corals below because of the dead or dying so I swim above them, speeding along with all my might. Some fish are faster and glide past me without any trouble. I can see the edge of the reef, I'm almost there. To my right I notice more downward bubbles. The current is already strong and I'm being pulled towards it. The larger fish can fight it's strength but I'm too small. I can't swim any harder and the bubbles are getting closer and closer. Then in a moment I'm falling. Spinning in searing agony as the thick water engulfs and penetrates my every nerve, I swirl and twirl my way downwards. I see my home outside of the thick waters hold. The reds and oranges of the corals and the comforting blues of the open sea. The sun isn't shining at all now and as I near the sandy floor and my end, my last thought is that the sun will never get to glow and shine upon my once radiant and dazzling home again. For, I fear it and I are lost to the destructive and merciless darkness.

Picture from: www.sustainabilityninja.com

Picture from: www.vestaldesign.com

Dedicated to the declining reefs and its inhabitants that will one day disappear for good.

http://www.opsociety.org/






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Finding my grandfather, a personal story

A couple of years ago I decided to dig in to the past and find out about my family. As I have no blood aunts or uncles, there for no cousins, and a generally small family I wanted to learn more about the generations before. It was for my own curiosity but also to pass along to my brother and his children. 

I've always felt a little different than my family, not in a bad way, but I just always wanted to know where I got my talents. I found out much more than I expected and dug my way through record after record until I hit the 1200's.

It's amazing the things you can find out but there was one thing that shocked me. I had never even given a thought to my grandfather. Who was he? Where did he die? This is my father's father and my brother was named after him but I never bothered to ask why he wasn't around. It's always seems more magical to dig hundreds of years in to the past than it is to look just a couple of generation back. So, when I began asking questions I was shocked to find out he died in Malaya in Kuala Lumpur in 1951. Almost one year after my father was born in Scotland. When I found this information out, I told myself that one day I'd find his grave and pay my respects to a grandfather I never knew. Today I went to Cheras Road Civil Cemetery in Kuala Lumpur and I finally, finally paid my respects.

Sergeant Donald McGregor Macmillan, Scots Guard, died 1951

(Wikipedia)

The Scots Guards are a regiment of the British Army. The regiment cherishes its traditions, especially on the parade ground where the scarlet uniform and bearskin have become synonymous with the regiment and the other Guards regiments. The regiment takes part in numerous events, most notably the Beating Retreat, Changing of the Guard, Queen's Birthday Parade, Remembrance Sunday and State Visits. 

During WWII Both battalions fought all over the world but were back in the UK by 1946, having returned from Germany and Trieste respectively. In 1948, the 1st Battalion assumed the role of Guards Training Battalion, a role that lasted until 1951.

The 2nd Battalion was sadly once more involved in war, however, when it deployed to Malaya during the native insurgency there as part of the 2nd Guards Brigade. The State of Emergency in Malaya had been declared in June after increased violence and terrorist acts against British, Asian and other citizens.

During its time in Malaya, the 2nd Battalion performed a variety of duties, including, in their involvement in the Emergency, guarding duties due to the Malayan Police's manpower problems, but also performed more aggressive tasks, such as patrolling into the dense jungle or hunting for CT. 

The patrols were difficult for the Commonwealth forces, who did not know where the CT lurked, and who had to contend with all the many aspects of the jungle, such as the diverse animals and sounds that make the jungle their home (especially leeches), and the claustrophobia of such a place, with the soldiers having probably been accustomed to living in relatively wide-open cities. A very apparent danger was the deadly booby traps laid by the CT. Patrols at times, despite hard slogging in the energy-sapping jungle, gave very little to show for the hard-work, but when contact was made with the CT, it invariably ended in fierce, close-quarters combat, with much valour and professionalism often displayed by the battalion. 

In 1948, the Scots Guards were involved in the Batang Kali massacre. By the time the battalion departed Malaya in 1951 for home, it had lost thirteen officers and other ranks. The Emergency was declared over on 31 July 1960, the Communists had been defeated.

Sadly one of those officers was my grandfather who was killed by a sniper on 25th January 1951, only a short few months from possibly going home to continue his life as a husband, father and to become a future great grandfather. 

I may have never met him, I may have never known him but, I'm deeply proud of a man who paid so dearly to protect his country.

My grandfather, Sargent Donald McGregor Macmillan.

Acquainted with sleep

Sleep is a funny old thing, especially whilst travelling. I've found it becomes less of an ordinary veiled part of life and more of an entity. To me, it feels like sleep has detached itself and is walking invisibly side by side with me, constantly communicating and there for making me unavoidably aware of it.

Never before have I been so acquainted with sleep, I feel like I should name it to ensure I'm not being rude or maybe it has a name already? Throughout my life I haven't ever really had sleep troubles, only at extreme times of stress have I been made aware that my sleep is looming over me. I've been lucky to just go through life with sleep simply participating in my life, quietly and simply, only ever turning up when most needed. Of late however, sleep is right there and at all hours, persistently whispering in my ear and I tell you, it's getting old.

Where have the days gone that I would awake easily and happily and be released from sleeps clutches without trouble? Where have the nights gone that I would fall in to bed and slowly let sleep surround me and consume me? 

Sleep is with me all day and night, pulling me down and down until I have no energy to fight it. It whispers to me as I go to the store. It follows me like a shadow as I spend a day out in the South East Asian sun. It smothers me any time I sit for too long. And why? Why has it decided to become my stalker, to follow me everywhere?

Because..... travelling is tiring.

Because, I'm tired.

At times I want sleep to reveal itself in a form so that I could hit it or simply glare at it, make it go away. However, there are times I feel its comfort, the anger towards it ebbs away and I find I lean on it like an old friend. Never before has it been such a serious part of my life, it was always essential but never serious. It tells me everything I will ever need to know. It tells me when I need to eat, to drink and especially when I'm sick. It did this before but never in such a profound way. Maybe it's been trying to communicate like this for years and found I just wasn't listening, so had to make me listen. Maybe it saw how exhausting my life was coming and decided to take my hand and lead me to the end of this journey. Whatever it's motives, I'm glad it's here but if you are listening sleep, I have a message.

Times almost up.

The awkward wax

Every girl gets to that point where they think, Hmmm it' about time to get a wax for downstairs, nobody else wants to see a national forest, let alone me. So, whilst in Mumbai I decided to get a bikini wax. I debated it and decided that I'd just go for it, what's the worst that could happen?

I actually went to get my hair coloured first. The hair on my head that is. That was the more pressing matter at hand as Katie, Fionn and myself had just been participating in the Holi festival. The worlds biggest water fight throughout India and other Hindu nations celebrated by throwing coloured water at each other. The thrill of this day is unparalleled however it doesn't mix very well with blond hair. 

So with a mop of pink, green, blue, red, purple and god knows what else, I went off to the hairdressers. I went in and had a choice of brown, brown or brown hair colours. I chose brown. They dyed my hair and all was well. 

I asked the hairdresser if they did waxing too and she became very shy and simply nodded in reply. I knew it would be weird waxing a foreigner but I needed it done and I didn't trust myself to do it. I was led to the back of the salon and a large curtain was pulled across, creating two spaces. The problem was, if you looked in to a mirror, which was every single wall, you could see the other customers, the main door and what was happening outside. Awkward. 

I crossed my fingers there was another room somewhere but to my dismay, there was not. The lady handed me a towel and a bar of soap and said 'Please wash yourself'. I was mortified. Not about what she asked but by the way she asked, like I clearly looked the type to need to wash. The second awkward moment came shortly after this when I entered into a little laundry room with my soap, towel and bashed ego. The water from the hose was freeeeeezing and of course, there was no door.

When i came back out, the lady whom I shall name Dorris, had set up 3 chairs. I would of come over and plonked myself down but I was naked from the waist down beneath my floral towel. Dorris, whilst I was washing, had taken my trousers and hung them up. My pants too, which was awkward moment number 3, due to them being big, black and full of holes. So i sheepishly shuffled over with the tiny hand towel covering myself.

She gestured for me to sit down on one of the seats. The seat was leather so my bum stuck to it like cling film. Then Dorris did something I wasn't quite prepared for. She moved the two other seats in front of me, lifted my legs and placed one on each seat. My buttocks were trying their hardest not to un-stick themselves from the leather so i was having to lift myself up and in the process making the most embarrassing noises. Dorris smiled and told me to relax. How am I supposed to relax? My ass is stuck to a chair, I'm practically in stirrups and all I have between your face and my flower is a tiny teeny towel. 

Not even the last piece of dignity I placed upon my towel lasted. Dorris whipped it away from me and I was naked. N.a.k.e.d. She looked directly down at my nakedness and raised her eyebrows. I was weeping inside.

Dorris began stirring her pot of sugar wax and as she did, I watched the comings and goings in the mirror. I watched a lady stroll in the main door, greet people and proceed to walk directly towards the curtain. She was heading this way. I looked from her to my nakedness and back again but there wasn't anything to be done. Dorris had just slathered on the first of the wax at the same time the lady entered the area. She smiled at me and then instead of getting embarrassed and avoiding eye contact like any normal person in a bizarre situation, she breezed over and bent in for a good look. I was now an exhibition.

Dorris not only ripped at me like she was in a therapy session, she laughed about it. I winced every time she used pieces of t-shirt or rag. Where were the wax trips and the cooling lotions?

A while later, she was almost done. I had a few visitors, including Dorris's mother who took a keen interest. At one point a conversation broke out as three older ladies pointed and chatted in a serious manner. This worried  me but Dorris explained they were saying I was pretty. That gave me the heebies more than I can say.

Dorris got some scissors and tweezers and finished off the job. I had decided early on not to look for fear she was ripping so much off it would leave me a nondescript human. Finally the words I'd been waiting for 'done'.

I beamed at her as she handed me a mirror. I swallowed hard and had a look. I froze. She had taken everything. She had stripped me of hair and dignity. I gave a half attempted smile and began to dress, after nakedly shuffling across the room with an audience. I briskly paid and fled the scene. 

Katie had come along at the perfect moment and in the humid Mumbai weather, we strolled back to the hostel with an ice-cream. I was feeling rather chilly and it was nothing at all to do with my vanilla scoop.

Diary: Day 42

Thursday (wish it was Friday)

Mum knows somethings wrong. I keep catching her watching me, like really really watching me. It's fucking creepy but she's got reasons for it I guess. Yesterday I was in the kitchen eating breakfast and there she was, standing by the sink. I swear, if she had stared any harder she would have created some sort of hole in my face. So, I'm pretty sure she knows.Obviously she has no idea what she knows, but it's something. Dad is clueless of course. He's never given a shit so not likely to care now is he? Matt's too young and highly unobservant. He is only 8 though. He just goes out and plays football with his friends every minute he has free. Just like dad, he doesn't care. If I were them, any of them, I'm almost 100% sure I wouldn't be looking out for this anyway, so, I can't be mad for the lack of concern. Just wish mum would be less creepy about it. Ignore or ask me what's wrong, all I'm saying. I'd lie but better than the staring.

So this boy at school asked me to go to the winter dance thing. He's really cute but, I said no. I really wish I could of said yes but not such a good idea. Kissing him sounds nice, killing him not so much. I've almost come to terms with that whole thing. When he released me, he told me it would be months before I could touch people. Fuck, I almost touched my dad the other day when I got out the car. Shit myself. Obviously I didn't. I really don't want to see my dad burst in to flames in front of me. Not cool. BUT.... I wonder what it's like. haha. No, joking. 

It's hard at school but the whole fake goth thing helps. Not a single inch of skin showing or touchable and people think that's normal. People are stupid. I wonder if any goths before have gone through what I am now? Weird. Only just thought of that. Would explain the weirdness. Where do these other demons come from I wonder? 

2 weeks to go and it's complete, I get to become awesome. I've been reading lots about ancient gods and trying to work out which one I'm created from? I like to think Aphrodite or someone bad ass. I just want to look hot, too much to ask? I always thought gods were good and demons were bad, clearly I was not informed well. When he told me I was becoming a demon I was like WOW, wait, I wanna be cool not evil. Glad he explained about gods and that because it made me feel better. That TV show supernatural is a load of shit, they've got it ALL wrong. Dean's hot though.

The whole thing is exciting but the closer the time comes, the more I worry. I'll have to leave my family. I know they won't remember once I'm gone but, I'll remember them. What about my friends? I'll never get to hang with them again. However, he did tell me I could watch them. At the time I thought that was slightly perverted but now I get it. Just make sure I time it well, don't want to watch anyone doing anything private. Gross.

Shit, got to go and do my homework. Why I have to keep doing it is stupid but he told me I had to remain, at least to others, semi normal. Boring!

Night xxx

p.s Wish me luck for tomorrow. Religious studies exam hahaha, if only they knew. 

Unexpected afterlife

The nurse tore from Emergency room B as if on fire and threw herself in to the supply closet, grabbing a multitude of things and holding them tightly to her blood spattered uniform. Once her arms were overflowing she raced back, narrowly avoiding a collision with a stray hospital bed. "Somebody move this thing!" she yelled at anyone within earshot. Dumping the supplies down she rattled off her goods as if in an auction bid.

"Nurse" a grey haired doctor said calmly but she didn't hear and continued to list and place the items on the medical trays. "Nurse!" the doctor said more forcefully. She stopped and looked up, surveying the once bustling room. After a short moment of silence everyone began to leave the room or clean up the blood soaked gauze or instruments lying on the floor. Turning her attention to the bed she let out a slow sigh as her eyes rested upon the still face of an auburn haired woman.

"She's gone" the nurse stated, not looking for a reply.

"I'm what?" Gemma said, choking on her words. "Gone? I'm right here. No, no, no , no!"

The nurse bent over Gemma's body and pulled the blue sheet over her face, gently rested her hand on her shoulder and then left the room. Gemma watched this from the foot of the bed, looking around her quickly but returning back to herself. "How am I there and here?" she mumbled.

Breaking her train of thought a man appeared in the room with a bare and sad looking bed, sheet-less and Gemma noticed this immediately. He wheeled it in backwards, whistling as he pulled. "Watch it!" Gemma shouted, jumping out of the way. "Can't you see me standing here?"

"He can't see you" someone unexpectedly replied.

Whirling around Gemma was close, too close to a tall sandy haired man. "What?" she asked, needing a confirmation.

Smiling he repeated "He can't see you" emphasizing the one word.

"By that do you mean he can still hear me, smell me or what?" Gemma spit at him. "Who are you and why can you see me?"

Laughing and shaking his head he didn't answer, just walked past her and over the her dead body lurking beneath the sheet. "I was watching, you're pretty. Sorry, were pretty." he said tilting his head at the sheet covered body.

Was, the only word she heard.

"Am I dead?" she asked steadily "Because, I'm not going to lie. I kind of look dead." Gemma said not laughing.

"Yeah, you're dead" he replied easily leaving her body and walking back over to her. "You know how?"

"How what?" she asked. He was tall, much taller than she was and she felt it. Stepping away she looked back to his face, attempting to read him.

"How you died, aren't you wondering?" he asked with a puzzled expression. "Look out there. The ER is full of people, I haven't seen so many people die in such a short time. it's odd." he said as he took a breath and rubbed his forehead "I died two weeks ago, some bastard beat the hell out of me behind a bar"

"Shocking, why ever would they have done that?"

He flashed her a smile "Yeah. Well, I might have deserved a kicking but not to die. Anyway, I've been lurking around here since then. A few hours ago the bodies began appearing. I noticed the dead roaming the halls upstairs first, then I, I um, came to the ER"

Gemma bit her lip and only debating the question twice finally asked "Upstairs, like, upstairs?"

The man burst with laughter "No! I mean like upstairs as in on the 4th floor. Was checking out a woman getting a breast reduction. Why ever would a woman do that?" he asked himself.

"Gross. So, why am I dead?" she asked getting back to the subject.

"From what I've heard there was an accident on a train. Some explosion and well, by looking at your uh, corpse, you got sliced and diced."

Gemma glared at him but felt it pointless to rage at, well, a ghost. "What's your name then?" she asked reluctantly.

Rubbing his forehead again he replied "Nathan. Nathan Deleany" and walking over to her chart hanging from the bed he continued "And you are indeed, Gemma Black". He smiled at her gently but the way he said her name made Gemma nervous.

"Why are you here? Why am I here for that matter? Shouldn't there be some sort of bright light, a giant hand pulling me to heaven or something?"

"A giant hand?" he laughed "No, no giant hand. No light. Nothing. There's nothing like that."

Gemma sensed he wasn't being truthful or at least he wasn't telling her everything "Just tell me. Two weeks, you might have learnt something right? I don't see too many other dea....ghosts around so they must have gone somewhere?"

"Come with me" he said walking out of the room. Gemma didn't move, fear gripping her. "Come on" he said again from the hallway. "Don't worry, your body will be there for a while yet and anyway, not like you need it any more."

Taking one last look at her blood stained self on the bed she began to move her feet and followed Nathan to the busy hallway. It was busy like he said. Nurses and doctors rampaging around the ER, dashing from room to room. The hallway was lined with people on beds, on chairs and even on the floor. "Why don't they take my room?" she asked Nathan as they passed a woman crying hysterically, covered in cuts and bleeding on to a coat.

Gemma's just minutes before. Nurses and doctors doing everything they could to save a life. Blood and tears filling the room. "They'll get around to it and then if you want, we'll be able to find your body in the morgue."

Gemma swallowed hard and followed Nathan along the hallway. She was dizzy in confusion. They reached the elevators and stopped. "What are we doing?" she asked.

"Waiting for the elevator."

"Well, push the bloody button then." she said to him, shaking her head.

"Be my guest" he replied, standing to the side. Gemma walked forward with purpose and raised her index finger to the big white button. She forcefully pushed but nothing. She pushed again and no orange glow appeared. Gemma moved to the next elevator over and tried again, then again until she stopped in frustration. "Gemma, you can't touch anything. You are in fact dead, so no more button pushing."

"Why doesn't my hand just float through to the other side?" she asked him, reluctant tears filling her eyes.

"This isn't the movies you know." Then seeing her crying he stepped closer "I'm sorry, I forget you literally just died. You can't touch anything any more Gemma. I thought that same thing, I expected to be able to float through walls and shit but, turns out that's just cinema magic. We simply can't perform tasks. For instance I can touch the button on the kettle but I can't turn it on no matter how much I want a cup of tea. I can touch a woman's breasts but it's like touching stone. Horrible. I once tried to jump in to the basement swimming pool and hit the water as if it were made of concrete." he sighed and smiled at her "We basically exists but someone has taken all the fun out of it."

"So, what's the point then? Are we just stuck here forever?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

"I'll show you what we are supposed to do. Come on." he said entering the elevator. The elevator was quiet in comparison to the hallway, only two doctors and a nurse lurked inside. Nathan slid in and stood to the back of the metal box making sure to avoid human contact. Gemma followed but just as she entered another doctor came in behind her. It was like being hit by a brick wall. Gemma flew forwards and landed at Nathan's feet.

"What was that?" Gemma gasped as she stood up.

Helping her Nathan replied "That's what I mean. Look, he didn't even feel you. We're like balloons that can't burst. Can't penetrate anything at all. Touch it yes, feel it sort of but we can't connect or perform any tasks. It's infuriating" he finished, rubbing his forehead.

"You okay?" Gemma asked him in an uncomfortable amount of concern.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. It's hurting more and more." he said clenching his jaw. Gemma didn't want to ask what was hurting, she couldn't find the words. The elevator doors closed and they began to rise. Nathan looked at her surveying him and said "I think my time's nearly up."

Gemma frowned "What do you mean?" she asked but he didn't answer.

The elevator stopped and the yellow number 3 flashed. "This is us. Come on, I'll show you." and he led the way from the suffocating metal box. Gemma instantly noticed they were on the maternity ward but even in her bewilderment she didn't question it. Nathan led her along the hallway, passing room after room of soon to be, in the process of or new mothers. At the end of the hallway there was a large room filled with incubators and babies. "This is where they bring the sicker babies. You know, like if they're premature or if there's something wrong with them." Nathan explained as he raised his hands to the glass and let them rest there.

"As much as this is nice staring at babies, it's kind of weird. What has this got to do with me having just been ripped apart in a train accident? Is one of the babies like god or something?" Gemma asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Nathan looked at her. His smile was not one of happiness but of pain. "These babies will die. Probably all of them." he took a breath and looked back to the room "When I died there was a young boy waiting for me. I died in that alley behind the pub, didn't even make it to hospital. I watched the blood and life seep out of me and it was hours before anyone came. As I sat and watched myself die a boy appeared. He told me what had happened and said I should make my way to the hospital and he'd find me there. So I did. The ambulance came and that's when I found out that I couldn't touch anything. I think I screamed the entire way to hospital and they didn't do anything. Just covered my body up and had a chat about the football." He released himself from the glass and nodded for Gemma to follow him.

"So I arrived at the hospital and followed my body around for days before my family took it away for the funeral. If it weren't so tragic it would have been pretty pathetic." he said quietly and Gemma had a sudden ache for her family. "It was then that the boy appeared again and I was glad he did. I was going mad being alone and I was so confused. He explained it all, everything that he could. I asked him why he was helping me and he told me that he was meant to. He had died a few weeks before I had and he had the same experience, someone appeared to him to comfort him and explained the rules."

Gemma stopped and leaned against the wall and thought of the word comfort, was that was Nathan was trying to do, comfort her? Instead of opening that topic she simply said "The rules?"

"Yeah. The boy, James, told me what I needed to do. He gave me a name first. He gave me your name. Told me I had to wait for you and then I was to explain the rules to you. Once you knew it all, you'd have the same job as us."

"I'm confused Nathan. What is this job? I don't understand" Gemma said, running her fingers through her hair.

Realising he must sound like a mental case he rubbed his hands over his face "I know, I'm sorry. I'm explaining like an idiot. It's not like I've done this before." He answered, half in an apology and half in anger.

"Just, tell me what the babies are about because quite frankly, it's kind of creepy." Gemma said with a smile.

Smiling too he replied "Yeah, I thought it was quite kiddy fiddler too when James told me." Then they both laughed. Nathan slid to the floor and Gemma followed him. "Right. Here it is. Ready?" He asked and she nodded in reply. "Your job is to wait for someone, someone who in the next few weeks is going to die. You'll know when and I'll tell you the name in a minute. Once you find him your job is to comfort him and explain the rest. Just like I've attempted to do." Gemma opened her mouth to ask a question but Nathan stopped her. "There is no heaven, there is no hell. There is however reincarnation."

With this Gemma laughed and waited for Nathan to laugh with her but he simply shrugged. "Are you joking?" she asked totally aghast.

"Not one bit. I don't know how else to say it? You will, after helping the next person like I'm helping you now, become a new soul. Yeah I know, I know, sounds a bit shit when I say it like that but there it is. You'll become one of those babies and you know, you'll save a life in doing so." He reached out his hand and placed it on her shoulder and continued "The job is to start again. We are given another chance. You die, you instruct another person, you wait till the time is right and then you are re-born. Totally gay I know. I'm not sure why babies, I guess it might be different for everyone in who we help?" He finished with a huge white smile.

Gemma slowly stood, steadying herself on the wall. She placed both her hands over her mouth and just stared at Nathan who stared right back. "How do I know?" she mumbled.

"Know what?"

Removing her hands "How do I know when it's time to, well, dive in? Fall in? Float in? How does it even work?"

Laughing and standing too Nathan shrugged and answered her honestly "I haven't got a fucking clue. I personally think we might float in but as I was wrong with the whole walking though walls, who knows? I can feel it however, I can feel myself changing."

"What does it feel like?" she asked as she looked at him all over. Taking in his build and his height all over again.

"Feels like I'm empty. I feel light and maybe, hollow or something? I guess it's not long now." But before she could speak he continued "I did think about not doing it, about staying as I am but there is no staying. You have no option. I found this out when I found you. I, I didn't want to help you." He said looking anywhere but at her. "Not at all. I was just hanging out and I felt it, I felt you. Fighting it I tried to stay away but like magic, there I was, watching you die."

Gemma felt her heart racing inside her chest and thought how weird it was to feel it but know she wasn't alive. Nathan began to walk around the glass room containing their futures and Gemma took to his side. They walked in silence for a few moments until Gemma broke it "So, I have to help someone like you and James have done, then I what, I wait until it's my time? I can't wrap my head around it. This morning I had a fight with my toaster as it destroyed my breakfast. I was reading the gossip column on the tra.... on the way to work. Now I'm dead and I have to wait around until someone else dies and then I wait some more. This is, It's, cruel." she finished as tears ran the length of her cheek.

Nathan shook his head "Cruel?" he asked but not wanting a reply. "What were you expecting? Heaven? Hell? This is a gift Gemma. I was never a believer in afterlife, I thought it was just bang, you're dead, lights out. This is at least something and look in there, we have another chance."

With the tears still streaming down her face she placed her hands on the glass and rested her forehead between them. The babies inside were all in small glass boxes, fighting for their lives, fighting for her life. "You're right." she simply stated and after a moment continued with "I have so many questions."

Nathan mimicked her pose against the glass and smiled. "So do I, but, you'll be all right. Wish I had known you before you got mashed up in that train."

Grinning Gemma replied "Yeah, and I wish I'd known you before someone kicked your face in." They both began to laugh whilst watching their futures through the window. Gemma turned her face to Nathan and he turned his to hers. "Thank you." she said to him with as much emotion and truth as she possessed.

Watching her he nodded, tapped the glass with his finger and said "William Jackson. Your name. William Jackson." Then as suddenly as he had appeared to her he was gone. Gemma didn't move an inch but instead just stood there leaning against the glass. Without warning loud beeping noises began echoing in the hallway. Within the room there was rapid movement and Gemma looked to it. Nurses rushed through the doors and over to the far left side of the room. They gathered around an incubator, pressing buttons and moving tubes around. A larger nurse came in and talked quickly to the other staff members. The glass was too thick to hear the words but Gemma knew, she knew that this child had just been blessed with a new start, a new beginning.

"William Jackson" Gemma said to herself as she watched the smiles from everyone within the room. Smiles of a life having just been saved.


.

Forbidden

The wind rages through the trees like a ghostly gale of savages, ripping and scratching and tearing at everything in its path. The blackness of the forest seems constant and consuming until a white flash engulfs it and reveals a force stronger than the raging winds. Her emerald dress floats out behind her giving the impression she is barely moving but her graceful dress is distorting the truth of her swift movements. She sprints through the forest, her bare feet hardly touching the Autumn leaved ground. With every flash the green of the dress, the paleness of her skin and the blond of her hair give reality to the emptiness of her surroundings.

A bright white burst and she is engulfed once more. Another flash but this time followed by a scream that pierces the howls of the wind. Another flash follows instantly behind but, she stops. In a confusing manner she looks around her, debating whether to stay or keep going but decidedly she turns to face the direction of which she just came. The bright flashes stop and all that now brings her light is the dull glow of the moon. The wind continues to rage causing the emerald dress and her blond hair to wildly fly around her statue like form. Breathing steadily she glares in to the emptiness. As suddenly as she became still, the winds begins to die and the howling sounds fade in to whispers and surround her like an audience awaiting the curtain call. With one hand she sweeps her hair around to her shoulder and with the other sharply flicks out the gathered material of her dress to a more appropriate location.

Then she hears it. The rhythmic crunch of the leaves. She brakes her statuesque form again by holding her stomach nervously, her hand shaking as she does so. Gazing in to the surrounding trees she searches for him and suddenly, as if knowing exactly where to look, he appears. A tall silhouette of a man comes gracefully through an opening in the trees and a small sound escapes her. She closes her eyes to shield herself from his stare, listening as the crunching gets closer and closer, until it stops.

"What are you doing?" a deep and steady voice whispers to her, as deep as an ocean.

She can feel his breath in her hair and knows he's standing close, only a small distance between them but might as well be a cosmos. "You know I had to, you... you know I have to" she replies to him, her eyes remaining closed.

He clenches his fist behind his back then slowly raises it to his face, to his mouth. His eyes are as black as the forest and they are unmoving from her face. "Open your eyes" He quietly demands. When she opens them, she carefully looks at the ground. "Look at me" he tells her softly. Defiantly her eyes remain on the ground but it's purely her reluctance to show him her tears.

"Why won't you just let me go?" she asks him gently

"I've never been very good at doing what I was told" he replies, a small smile escaping him but he quickly removes it. "You chose to leave then? That was your choice?"

"My choice?" she spits, turning her face but not enough for him to see it. "My choice was made by the others. Go or die, what would you have me do? I tried to make this right and look what's happening". Just as her last words fall to the ground another flash appears in the sky. "I must go" she says turning from him.

He steps towards her as she turns, raising his hand. She stops walking and looks to his raised hand where a warm glow radiates from his palm like a lamp filled with a hundred fireflies. "I can protect you. Why won't you let me protect you? I'm not powerless" he says, his words stumbling from his mouth. She sighs and turns to him. Slowly she lifts her face to meet his and their eyes connect. "You're crying" he states and with a gentle sweep of his other hand her tears are gone. "I feel like I'm always vanquishing your tears".

"Tears that are not of your making" she says with a gentle smile.

Another flash appears but this time brighter. They both look to the sky and more bursts of light seem to be radiating around them. "They're closing in. I took one of them as they chased you. The others are not far behind." he tells her. She simply nods in reply but continues to look to the sky and the lights which are getting too close. He watches the light reflect in her eyes and follows the curve of her cheek to her soft lips and down her slender neck. "Is that why you stopped, you knew I was there?"

"Yes" she replies.

"Where will you go?" he asks in a broken voice.

She looks to him and pauses for a moment "I....I don't think I should tell you" and as he opens his mouth to protest she cuts in "It's for you. It's all for you. If I stay they will kill me and then they'll kill you. So, I'm going and I'm not coming back."

He shakes his head. "You're wrong. Can't we both go and be together? Don't you want that?"

She visibly shakes as tears fill her eyes, quickly spilling down her cheeks. He raises his hand to her face but she stops him. "No, look at these tears. Don't magic them away, take a good look. These tears are what you'll see when they find us. When they kill me or kill you." She touches his face and he momentarily closes his eyes. "They will find us" she finishes in a whisper.

As another burst of light appears the wind begins to howl once more and he takes his chance. Looking directly at her "But....I love you."

She remains silent but continues to look at him. That's all he needs. He grabs her by the waist and pulls her in, holding her tight to his large frame. She raises her head and feeling his heart thundering in his chest and against hers he kisses her so passionately that the blasts and rushing anger of the storm surrounding them is invisible. She melts in to him and he in to her.

He kisses her for every second he has loved her and she kisses him for ever second that she will continue to love him.

Suddenly they are dripped from their need of each other and thrown in to unwelcome reality. The wind has reached its full fury and the lights explode almost directly above them. "They're here!" she shouts through the roar of the war. Her dress and hair fly wildly around her once more and she looks to the leaves beneath her bare feet.

"What shall we do? What do we do?" he asks aloud, shaking his head.

"What we must" she answers with a smile.

He returns her loving smile then turns to face the tree line, awaiting the enemy made of their own people. Two worlds who cannot accept an alliance. Through the wind he hears the rustling of the leaves, the crunching of feet on Autumn. "Can you hear it? They are here!" he shouts and turns back in her direction but there is no loving smile for him. There is nothing. She's gone.

He spins around as if he might have glanced over her, mistakenly looked in the wrong direction . With no time to process his sudden and intense pain, silhouettes begin to appear from the trees. More and more emerge until there is a group of 15 strong. They all stand toward him, their faces glowing from the lights radiating from their hands. The same firefly glow he has radiating from his.

"Did you find her?" a man with greying hair and empty eyes demands of him. There is no reply and so the man asks a second time "Did you find her?"

Clenching one hand behind his back, he raises it to his face, to his mouth and closing his eyes he simply answers "No."

.

Karma vs Stupidity

I couldn't quite get the right angle for my current photo opportunity. To be fair, I was attempting to photograph, using a two year old mobile phone, a family cremate their eldest son. Katie sat next to me snapping away, where as I gave up after three or four failed attempts. How do you do justice to such an absurd reality? 

I could still feel the heat from the Indian sun as it teasingly hovered over the horizon. As if my eyes had built in Photoshop, my surroundings had been given a comforting golden hue. The Ganges river sparkled and twinkled almost mimicking the flickering flames in front of me. We travelled through India and to Varanassi knowing that this is where people travel from afar to bring their dead loved ones. We watched almost hourly as people carried the dead through the narrow streets, wrapped in fine white cloth and lovingly covered with flowers. We then watched them being bathed in the river and laid out on the banks to dry in the remaining sun. 

I was captivated by this beautiful cultural thing in front of me that I almost didn't hear the man hovering over my head. ''No pictures allowed'' the man said in such a way it was clear he'd been saying it for a while now. Katie and I glanced at each other with a look of horror. Had we just been casually photographing a private funeral? ''I'm sorry'' I said ''We'll delete the pictures''. 

I raised my tatty old phone to show him and he simply replied ''You must speak to the police''. At this point I thought, childishly If i don't breath for a few minutes, he'll go away. Wishful thinking. More men arrived and with the magnificent backdrop a rather choppy and confusing exchange of words happened. Within minutes we were following these men through the darkening and now uncomfortably restrictive streets. 

We had agreed to pay a fine instead of getting the police involved. I'd love to say we knew that we were getting ripped off but, I can't. The men led us up a set of stairs and with every sandy scuff of flip flop to stone my pulse rate increased. I glanced up and a dark and intimidating room was imminent. Men surrounded us throwing a concoction of useless words at us until one voice began to make some sense. ''This is a holy man, he is 100 years old''. Well, not so much sense but understandable. I slipped off my terrified face and threw on my typical British whatever face. The man was about the same age as my mum. Katie and I just kept looking at each other trying to perfect, at the last minute, our telepathic skills. The men asked for money over and over and we eventually gave in. The cash was handed over and we fled from the room. 

Whilst fleeing the building we passed two tourists, retracing footsteps we'd made only moments before. It was like looking in to a mirror. We didn't stop to chat but I wish we had. 30 minutes later Katie and I had been hustled again, this time into buying material. There's something to be said for Karma or maybe just plain stupidity.