If you have not seen Stranger Things on Netflix, please see it if you can because I will be giving my reaction to Stranger Things 2 including SPOILERS!
Last season ended with Eleven defeating the “demagorgon” monster. Scientists have been experimenting with opening dimensions and portals and something strange and unholy got out. However, that is not all they did.
Season 2 picks up with Will finally being home and at school with friends but he can’t shake the awful visions of the “Upside Down” world and then he discovers that like a virus, the demagorgon monster and its minions are connected to him. What happens to them, happens to him and so season 2 becomes a race against time to save Will and the town of Hawkins.
During this time, Eleven or “El” is presumed missing. So during the show, we are once again introduced to smart, engaging characters, great music from the 80s and a bit of romance. Just a bit.
So much more happened in season 2 and I can tell you now my favorite characters are Dusty and Eleven. Dusty has the charm and wit to carry the show on his shoulders, just like Eleven’s strength and stoic yet believable personality.
The very last episode stole my breath then gave it back ten fold by the end…before taking it away again.
I didn’t particularly like the episode called “The Lost Sister”. In that episode, Eleven reunites with her “sister” and they both discover interesting things about each other’s abilities, but her sister runs with a group of young thugs who do bad things to bad people, but live by a different set of rules all together.
Annnnd I didn’t care about some other sister with abilities, just Eleven. Sorry.
The true charm of the show lies in its “retro-ness”.
If anyone would have told me I would be stuck in a closet with the hottest zombie ever this side of the Atlantic, “I would have said WTF and get out of here”.
But here I am. In the janitor’s closet of all places.
Stuck with Sindrome. That’s his name for real. A tall, well built zombie who looks down on me now like a tasty snack but because of our current and dire situation, he cannot afford to eat me.
“Explain again what you saw.” He growls, annoyed.
I roll my eyes to him. “I said, I went back to the cafeteria to see if I left my small wallet on the floor by the cashier and I heard the noise and started running. It sounded horrific, like vomiting but, I don’t know.”
I had went into the cafeteria ten minutes earlier to retrieve my pink wallet. I knew better than to go alone.
In my dad’s infinite wisdom, he placed me in a school that was full of dead folks. On the outside everything looks normal and new, and the people look beautiful and normal. Borbon High School is a lie. A fake.
It is a Night School. For zombies.
And guess what? I am not one.
How do I get away with it? My dad, a chemist involved with making popular perfumes for celebrities, made a special perfume for me that repels the dead. Meaning my brain which is capable of a 2.9 GPA at best, will not be morsels to these monsters.
Turns out though that my “Dad” he really wasn’t my dad though. Just a mad scientist who was using me as bait.
He knew my real dad.
Turns out Sindrome is my only ally because he has living human beings he cares for still.
A living, breathing Barbie doll of a girlfriend he wants to save and he knows I have the perfume that will prevent him from wanting to snack on her brains like a burrito.
So anyway, I walk up into the cafeteria as if I am not completely surrounded by zombies. And. No. I do not eat their food. Are you kidding me? I bring my own bag lunch. I purchase their canned drinks though because they are colder and packaged from a local factory.
I had reached down to pick up my purse when I hear the snap of something like a big chicken bone and followed by a loud shriek.
I look over the sneeze guards which previously shielded meatloaf(yeah right) and mac and cheese. Hidden beneath these dishes are brains. Just to let you know. The “real” food is placed on top to make the zombies feel normal as they once did.
But yeah, its brain squash underneath.
Beyond the large sink and stove, I saw movement in the backroom and then a large splash of red hits the window. Blood.
I bucked out of there quick, just as I heard the quick clicking of heels on my tail.
I turn a corner nearly colliding into a locker and that was when I spotted Sindrome smoking a joint -or appears to be smoking…in the janitor’s closet with the door half opened.
“Let me in!” I whisper loudly pushing him inside, not caring if he dropped his cigarillo. I bang the door closed. Confident I left the ghoul or whatever was chasing me.
“Patty,” Sindrome puts both hands on my shoulder. His whole body is ivory and cold to the touch, but it is those eyes that do me in every time. They are- aquamarine?
Damn! I am not falling for no damn dead person. Nope! Not me! His eyes are a dreamy, kind of aqua framed by long lashes that are ebony- ebony like his hair, ebony like me and my hair.
This closet is too tiny for my fro and his body. One of us has to go.
“Keep quiet, Patty.” He says again. “I hear something.”
I scooch my body closer to Sindrome, aware that my ample booty is now pressing against surprisingly rock hard abs.
Yes. I’m officially losing it.
But I nearly lose my cookies when through the slats of the door I see some wolf-beast-dog thing with long, yellow teeth stalking the hall.
It was as big, or almost as high as five Great Danes and the smell of death followed it. Even Sindrome smelled better. Well, Sindorme always smells of water and leaves mostly. Cigar leaves. Perhaps he has a better wash regime than I give him credit for.
“What the hell is that?” He asks me.
“I don’t know?” I whisper back. “I am new here to this state, this city, this school. Virginia is looney tunes!”
The wolf monster thing pauses. I see its high black butt and three tails wagging.
My heart nearly plummets.
If Sindrome is truly evil, he could just push me out the door and be done with me. The wolf thing could then gobble me up and maybe it’ll spit out my fro- just to be nice.
I have all kinds of crazy scenarios playing in my head right now.
Sindrome has cold, dead hands on my shoulder and I am pressed up against him like we’re lovers.
We are so. not. lovers.
He hates my guts because of my “dad” and I hate his because he is dead. He has dead guts.
“I have to alert everyone else somehow.”
“Wait. You’re scared of it too? Aren’t you a zombie?”
“I have a very bad feeling about this.” He pulls out his cell phone but I remain on him, booty and all. I am scared and did I mention the closet is cramped? Full of dirty mops and thousands of chemicals I am unfamiliar with.
He texts someone just as we hear another scream and I hear that bone cracking noise again. I cringe and throw my body harder against Sindrome’s body.
“Huh?” I can’t understand what he is saying.
“I said-” he does something with my hair.
Oh. He pushes it down. I am about to swing on him and knock him out for that alone. Then he growls: “I said your hair is in my mouth.”
“Oh, God. Sorry.”
Sindrome swears under his breath and suddenly my worst nightmare comes true.
I am pushed through the door with my arms out and I stumble into a hallway that is suddenly overcrowded with zombies. Teachers and everybody is scurrying. Blood dripping from hands and faces.
Some are with a gaping hole in their chest to the point I can see the wall clearly though them and the stampede.
I am tossed and thrown about, trying to run for the exit when I am roughly pulled from the melee.
“This way”, he growls low in my ear and before I can protest, I am yanked again through the crowds.
“You have your motorcycle?” He asks.
“We need it.” I pull the keys from my pocket, unsure how this will all play out.
If I’m smart, I could let him get torn to shreds by the Wolf Beast thing.
But who said I was smart?
We are moving too fast down the hall and that is when I hear the worst sound of all.
“The hell?” Sindrome pauses as the top floor, that holds the library and classrooms, suddenly wobbles as if it is made of rubber and I see some plaster fall down.
Three very big, large black Wolf Beasts stands at the top. Red eyes looking right at me and through me.
Synopsis: The narrator takes a look at what a good, “peaceful” relationship looks like. When in actuality, it is a quiet storm…
Look at couple A.
Everyone wants a relationship like Couple A.
Couple A has a routine: both wake up to a shrill alarm. The wife throws open the curtains, she hums the same tune every morning as she washes her face and makes sure her husband’s suit is hung up- straight, starched.
She fixes a hot cup of coffee for him, the off brand coffee that tastes just as great and makes sure he has fresh pastries or eggs to accompany his cup of java.
As he drinks, he smiles over the rim of his cup at the words on his screen. He is reads the newspaper online while she works on cleaning the kitchen before eating her own meal. She is a school teacher and must be in before 8 a.m.
With the online radio tuned to some smooth Jazz and brief chatter about weather and politics, they settle into this comfy routine. Twenty years and he still kisses her before work. Twenty years and he kisses her after he comes in saying, “I’m home.”
They are always impeccably dressed when they go out every other Friday.
Meals? Manwich Mondays, Taco Tuesdays. Church every Sunday.
At night, while the hubs is alsleep, she massages her right breast until warmth spreads and the pins and needles ebb away. Sometimes when her husband isn’t watching, she winces, face pinched, bridge of nose slick with sweat.
She will also need a wig soon.
She makes sure to receive her medical reports through email, she burns the letters from her physician…
It is possible that Wattpad is a source for good books that pull at your heart guts, like Did I Mention I Love You and Remember to Forget. Well, Isabelle Ronin has penned a Wattpad blockbuster according to reviews, and after reading Chasing Red, I see why it is hailed as addicting.
Caleb has finally met his match.
After bedding down nearly every blonde he knows, one night at a bar, he meets a dark haired beauty whose dance moves are like a siren to him, and on that same night he rescues her, calling her Red because of her red dress and red nail polish.
But he learns something about Red very quickly.
She is not like other girls he has dated. Besides her very long dark hair and independent attitude, she is reserved and fearful of something, but he can’t resist her allure. Their relationship becomes one of extreme need, doubt, and the burning passionate love only true love can ignite.
I enjoyed this book for two reasons: One, I like reading about strong, feisty women who are also vulnerable. It shows they are human. Second, a handsome Caleb who is a certified player, amazes me suddenly as his heart strings are getting snatched while he literally does everything for Red just to make her happy. I swear the swoon worthy moments were just as titillating as the sexy, scorching hot ones.
“I felt him lowering both of us onto the bed. I was drowning so deeply in his kiss that I hadn’t even noticed he had walked us to the bedroom.” (Chasing Red, Ronin, 2017).
Now, I did find a couple of things troubling and it could be because I over-read something or whatever the case may be.
For example, the plot thickens when another suitor arrives but who is he and is he for or against Caleb? How does he pop up conveniently everywhere Red goes?
Secondly, there was a POV concerning Caleb’s ex Beatrice-Rose(yeah, the name drips wealth)- I basically glazed my eyes over her words…until she mentioned some really interesting things. All in all I cared nothing for her point of view. Seriously.
The book was amazing though and the author shows great command of human psychology and character development.
*This book was provided by Netgalley for my unbiased review.
“If you let me kiss you, I can prove to you what I am.” The crazy man in the long leather jacket, black pants, black shirt and matching boots told her.
“The hell you are!” Stalita Jay shook her head furiously. It was Friday the 13th, her brand new car just ran a flat, her mother just hinted that breast cancer is cresting over her health, and Bobby, her nice baby faced brother, needs at least a thousand dollars to bust him out of the clink.
The last thing she needed was some delusional, albeit, HOT stranger, telling her to kiss him. He could have cooties.
No. Scratch that. The herpes.
“I just need help with my spare tire. Stupid me don’t know a thing about changing a flat.” Thanks to being treated like a royal princess all my life.
Stalita looked down at her suede pumps and lamented how on the day she gets her brand new job working as an office assistant for an accountant; she breaks out her new beige pumps and…wait for it…
It rains. On. Her. Suede. Pumps.
The rain pours. The torrential downpour and rolling thunder has her pink and beige JC Penny suit soaked through, and the stranger smiles. Wolfish.
His raven black hair extends past his waist just about. He was very pale and had the look of some Adonis from another time. Ancient time. His lips were damn beautiful.
“Like I said, I can do it for a kiss. Your very wish for all to go right in your world, will happen.”
“And like I said. No.”
“Suit yourself.” He approached her car barely making splash sounds with his feet. Stalita noticed that his booted feet(how much did those things cost?!) and the water, met at a hard balance. A centered dance.
Walking on water.
Stalita shook her head. The cobwebs of lethargy must be making her imagine things.
The stranger took the bottle jack and used it to hoist the car up while he deftly, expertly changed the car in silence. Stalita noticed the tick in his jaw and was still amazed at how his boots were not sinking into the puddles and mud.
Lex finished changing the tire for her and replaced everything back into her trunk neatly. It was still light out but gray as fresh concrete and Stalita just wanted to go home and melt in her warm bath.
He approached her. “Now…this may feel— different.”
It was just a kiss. How much different can it be?
She could tell he was well built, as if he surfed for a lifetime-even though he reminded her more of a vampire than a surfer.
With gentle cupping of her neck, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to her closed one.
Stalita closed her eyes.
“Can you…let me in?” His husky voice sang over body and suddenly it was like electricity shot down her spine. Touched her. EVERYWHERE.
What was that?
Stalita obeyed and when his mouth met her warm one, she felt thousands of somethings, wet and slithery coat her mouth and prick her tongue and gums repeatedly.
She tried to pull away but Lex held on to her tighter, never letting her go. The kiss. His kiss had gone deeper. Deeper. The tickling and biting wouldn’t stop and the weird things was-
She liked it.
When she opened her eyes, she was back in her room. The sun was shining, spilling through the blinds and her British short hair cat Meow, sat at the foot her bed with a look of confusion and distrust.
“What’s wrong?” She asked him.
With a short grunt, Meow leaped gracefully off her bed and out of the room.
Stalita massaged her temples and went for her phone on her nightstand. “What a weird dream,” she said.
Her phone buzzed. Funny. She thought she had the ringtone set to Rise by Andra Day.
A text from her best friend Charlie: Ready for move in day? I have my part of the deposit already. Thanks for being a cool friend!
But you already live here LOL! Stalita text back.
Girl don’t be silly. I will be there in 1 hour.
Stalita leaped from her bed and checked the room in her apartment. The rooms were empty. As if Charlie never lived there.
When she used the knock code to unlock her phone, something caught Stalita’s eye that shouldn’t.
The date and time on the screen read October 13, 2015.
P.S. This is just a snippet of the genie saga I published a while back. It is under another name and Lex will have his own story someday. Just thought I’d play around with the plot a bit! Thanks for reading! 🙂
Synopsis: A sibling finds out that being locked in a room is never the end of the story…
I slowly close the romance novel I’ve been reading and feel myself being squeezed out as if through a mother’s womb.
The tightness grips my shoulders and my head; I momentarily can not breath; the overwhelming tickle of nausea seizes my throat and belly, and finally I flop onto my wood floor.
I nearly forgot what my wood floor felt and looked like. My small, cramped room of one barred window, one cot and rows and rows of books . Books. Each one takes me to a new world, a new place. I am so used to being literally sucked in the books now, that I kind of get used to the whirlwind headache it gives me afterwards.
I am not sure about this gift at all but ever since my evil, older sister locked me in the room below the house complete with nothing but books, I have found that my love of words brought the worlds to life. Scared the heck out of me!
I’ve taken trips to Mars, Ireland, Africa, Hawaii, and just now some place called Poughkeepsie New York? I fell in love with the main character- a simple man who wore red scarves and studied marine biology, but whose hands were always warm and smooth across my chilly body…
I see the shiny black binding, the glossy dust jacket sticking out between A Tale of Two Cities and Switch on Your Brain(I really should alphabetize these things).
The book is heavy, a tome weighing down on my palms, called the Onyx Japanese Warriors and on the cover there is a big splat of blood with a sword stuck in it’s gooey center.
My hands shake as I grab it. I am scared. I am enthralled. What role will I play? Will I be murdered? Or be the conqueror? Either way, it is the last book left to read and I have nowhere else to go. I will die in this musty, cramped room.
All because of a sister’s envy.
I’ve always wanted to go to Japan though. Pray I make it back in one piece..