Time is Tricky

Would you change something, anything, in your past given a chance? Could you deal with the consequences of that one decision? Could anyone?


Black ink and B2 pencil base with black, white, and grey charcoal (textured over a copper board). Highlights done in white ink (bleached not synthetic).


A Serious Question #1

Is there anything more frightening than looking in the mirror, only to find a shadow cast?

The last of a mass where you lost your past, hoping against hope you can forage a new path.

Do you burn who you were,

rise through pain,

with nothing but hope to lose,

and a life to gain?

Do we need more?



The first step is always the hardest.

Daily Blog 9/11/17

Start from the beginning: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/08/27/daily-blog-82717/

All published chapters are archived under the Saving Hadley menu at: https://bluebeard-art.com/


*Contains graphic, accurate, and disturbing depictions of self-harm and emergency medical procedures. Also has naughty language. If any of that stuff bothers you, please don’t read this. I also suggest you go here to get the good feels: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zidiWe9yq88


Simon’s perspective of what happened in chapter 11-1.



February 8th, 2017-Simon


Simon had left work sick, not that he was sick. Not in the traditional sense. The urge to slip drugs in that setting was simply too much for him to handle right now. He was barely holding on, and Hadley…Hadley wasn’t holding on. He’d caught her going through their old store of painkillers two nights ago. Simon had tried to stop her, but she had threatened him with the dull metal scissors on the counter. He’d had to distance himself that night, sleeping on the couch. I’ll talk to her about it, get her help.

Simon went over what he’d say as he pulled into the large driveway. I hate what happened to Adam, but we’re still here, we’re still young, we can beat this, together. Parking, Simon opened the driver’s side door of his Audi, and got out. Closing the door behind him, Simon walked towards the side entrance. He pulled the key out his pocket, put it in the lock and twisted. Things are going to be all right, we’ve been to hell and back together. I just need to stop being so damned distant all the time. I’ve never been good at handling emotions. Hadley had recently theorized why Simon had made a good ER doctor. He remembered the sting he’d felt as she’d said, “It’s because you don’t care when the patients die, and you can just tell the family then go have a fucking cigarette.” She’s right, though. I need to be more available. I’m going to settle this. Walking into the kitchen, looking around, Simon yelled “Hadley, you up?” It’s nearly 7:30, don’t tell me she’s still in bed.

As Simon walked towards the stairs, he heard a muffled noise. What was that? Simon paused momentarily, listening. Not hearing another noise, he called out a second time “Hads! You okay?” while starting up the bannister. About halfway up the steps, he heard another noise, a scream. No…no. Simon rushed up the stairs, skipping a step with each stride. “Hadley! Where are you?” he rushed towards the master bedroom. The door was closed, he tried the handle. Locked? Oh shit. Voice cracking, Simon yelled “Hadley!” as he kicked the door. It didn’t break. On the second kick the doors frame concaved slightly.

He heard Hadley scream “Simon!”, she sounded in pain. What is she doing?

Panicking, as the door failed to cave after the third kick, Simon shouted “Hadley! I’m here, hold on honey, I’m here!” On the fourth kick, the lock broke and Simon rushed into the dark bedroom. Hadley was still screaming, but Simon couldn’t see, fumbling for the lights he called out, “Hadley I’m here, don’t worry, you’re okay!” Finding the lights, he realized Hadley was in the master bathroom. Simon barreled into the bathroom. The lights were dim, looking around his heart sank. Small pills were scattered about and there was blood all over the floor, and the Jacuzzi…the water was a dark, lifeless, red. No.

Simon rushed into the Jacuzzi as Hadley mouthed something, he couldn’t tell what. “What did you Hadley, what did you do. Lovely, what have you done.”  He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up into her arms. He left the Jacuzzi and set Hadley down gently onto the cold bathroom floor. My god, her arms. No. It can’t be. Not like this. Panicked, Simon ran to the second bath, turning the shower on and stopping the drain. She’s too warm. I need to stop the blood-flow. Returning to Hadley, he picked her up gently, making sure her wounds faced up. Grunting, he carried her to the shower, setting her down carefully with her back against the glass, letting the cold-water wash over her. “Hadley! Wake up Hadley!” Simon cried in desperation as her eyes fluttered. She was still mouthing the same, inaudible words. “I can’t hear you, honey, stay with me, I need you Hadley, I need you to stay here… to stay with me.” He could feel her pulse, a wave of relief shot down his spine. It’s weak, I need to act quickly.

Turning, Simon got to his feet and walked to the sauna’s towel rack. He opened the sauna door, grabbed two towels and threw them inside before setting the heat to max and shutting the door. He grabbed the other two towels and ran to Hadley. Why is she smiling at me like that? Simon wrapped the first towel around her left arm, tying it off, and repeating the process on the right arm.

Hadley’s eyes had opened again. Quietly, she murmured “I love you.”

Stricken, Simon responded, “I love you too, Hadley, you’re going to be fine, stay with me.”

Eyes closing again, Hadley whispered “Let me…go.” Never. Hadley fell limp, blood soaking through the towels. How did she cut so far up the arm? Simon ran back to the sauna, grabbing one of the now-hot towels. Turning back to Hadley, he draped the hot towel around her famished midsection and turned the cold-water stream off. Too cold and she’ll go into shock even faster. Her pulse felt weaker than it had a few moments ago. She’s lost too much blood. Simon ran to the medical cabinet adjacent to the sink. He grabbed a high-volume syringe and a tourniquet. Quickly, he wrapped the tourniquet around his left arm, found a vein and drew blood as quickly as he could without blowing the vein. Damned anxiety is constricting my vasculature. Stay calm, Simon, or Hadley will die. After about thirty seconds, he’d managed to fill the syringe. Now comes the tricky part. Her arms are completely shot and I don’t have an IV.

Moving to Hadley, Simon paused, looking for a vein on her inner thighs. I’ll worry about infections later. Hands steady, Simon pushed the syringe into Hadley’s Femoral vein, pushing slowly but steadily before retracting the syringe and moving to Hadley’s greater saphenous. He switched back and forth until the blood in the syringe was gone. The injection sites aren’t bleeding, low pressure, not good. Simon checked her pulse, it was gone.

Tears streaming down his face, Simon ran back to the medical cabinet and found a small bottle of adrenaline. Come on, just another ER shift…Keep it together. Grabbing a new, lower volume syringe, he drew half the adrenaline, hands shaking. Rushing back to Hadley, Simon pulled her left tank top strap down over her arm. He palpated the area, feeling for a break in the ribcage. This has to work. It WILL. Finding the spot he was looking for, he carefully pushed the long needle into her chest, until he felt a break in the resistance. The heart. He injected the adrenaline, pulled the syringe out, and threw it aside. He maneuvered her cold, limp body so that she lay on her back, arms to the side. Getting on top of her, he started compressions. His arms and face had gone numb from the anxiety, making it difficult to keep going. Must…keep…going, I have to save her.

Crying, he shouted “Come back to me, Hads, come on baby, you’re okay, everything’s going to be fine!” After about a minute of compressions, he felt Hadley’s ribs break. Slowly, defeated, Simon slowed his compressions. Leaning back, he cried out in agony. I’ve failed.


Thanks for reading!

Next chapter: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/13/daily-blog-91217/

Broken Mask (Poem)

A simple poem about the shallowness that many humans treat other humans with. Sincerity and honesty are important aspects of our species, and it’s sad to see them decline.


Tight-woven agony,

immaculately crafted,

My own false humanity,

Expertly grafted,

From skin to bone.


Tell me,

Am I pretty?

Do my posts convey the sense I’d be down to fuck?


Always hiding,

Our true nature,

Never trying,

To expose ourselves to others.


Tell me,

How can I be honest when everyone’s a stranger?

This mask suffocates us,

An impenetrable veneer controls society; in danger.


Help me destroy it,

Fuck their norms and fuck their rules,

I’m a misfit,

and that’s better than the tools.


Tell me,

Am I pretty yet?

Or does my honesty make you feel ugly?

Does my broken mask shine too much light at your mindset?

Your Light (Poem)

An open challenge:

Your Light<—–Click here for Poem (PDF)



Thoughts: Definitely a dark, brooding, piece. It was written in a cumbersome over-syllabic manner on purpose. It’s meant to portray someone who feels overwhelmed, done, so much so that they are lashing out against the one good thing they have left. Once they push away that last light, it’s over.

Never push away the lights in your life, no matter how grim it gets.


Written: 9/8/17

A Gentle Breeze (Poem)

I wrote this in Bio-statistics this morning as my soul started to immolate from acute boredom.


The lonely neurotic bleeds regret,

Climbing higher,

Mind is set,

Unseen hands scratch his epithet,

Fates unwoven scream and threat,

His times not done but the winds do fret,

They guide him gently; end is met.


Written: 9/8/17

Daily Blog 9/6/17

There seemed to be an issue with the URL when I posted this yesterday, making it impossible to properly link it in the previous blog-post. So, I’m just going to re-upload it an hour before I put out Daily Blog: 9/7/17.


Previous: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/05/daily-blog-9517/


November 21st, 2016

Hadley had been clean eleven and a half months. Furthermore, she’d stopped drinking beyond the occasional glass of red with dinner, or sharing a bottle of Krug with Simon on special occasions. She’d gained a healthy five pounds of lean muscle, and Bill had told her if she keeps her win-streak up she’d make partner in a year or two. Another two months and Adam would complete her family and she could be whole again. Well, that is if Simon ever came back from the bathroom. She and Simon had reservations in thirty minutes at L’Espalier, the swankiest restaurant in Boston, and Simon was busy mucking around the bathroom.

“Simon, what the hell. We’re going to be late!”

Something about a stomach ache. Since when does it take five minutes to piss and take a god damn pill? She’d bought a new dress, and even had her nails, hair, and makeup done. This was the first time, in a long time, she’d bothered to dress up. She heard the bathroom door open. A couple seconds later Simon walked into the room, smiling. Feigning indignation, Hadley asked “Are you going to make it a habit to keep me waiting? On my birthday, no less?”

Chuckling, Simon replied “My apologies, madam. One thing just led to another!”

“Oh, really? Please, do tell.” said Hadley, maintaining a straight face.

“Well first, there was the Ibuprofen. I just couldn’t break that child lock. Not for the life of me. So then, naturally I had to find a small reflex hammer. I mean, a large hammer wouldn’t do, I needed the pills in-tact. “

An abrupt pounding made Simon stiffen. Hadley’s face, previously contorted in laughter, suddenly grew concerned. “Who could that be? Were you expecting someone, Simon?  Another…lover, perhaps?” At this their tension released and they both burst out laughing, Simon clutching his side as he opened the door.

Their laughter faded quickly upon seeing Tom’s sullen expression.

Warily, Simon asked, “Tom, what are you doing here? Did something happen?”

Hadley noted that Tom’s face, while distraught, was still attractive. He had piercing hazel eyes, and a full head of dark brown hair, like his brother. He also shared his wide, and well-defined Jawline with Simon.

Looking down, and then to the left, Tom sighed.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hadley softly. Tom winced, looking up to meet Hadley’s eyes. But he still wasn’t making eye contact. He was looking through her. What’s going on? Hadley’s hands began to shake in fear.

Mournfully, in his soft tenor, Tom said “There was an accident. My wife…” Hadley rushed forward and pulled Tom into her arms, as Simon fell back against the left door-hinge.

“I’m so sorry Tom, is Gia okay? What…what happened?” asked Hadley, pulling him closer.

Stricken, Simon asked “Tom, is Adam with you?” As tears ran down Tom’s cheek, he looked to Simon and shook his head once. Simon started to slide down the wall, until he sat on the ground leaning against the door. Hadley paused, looking to Simon and back to Tom in confusion.

“Wait… Where is Adam… Where is my Son!” shouted Hadley, pushing away from Tom. Simon’s face was buried in his calloused hands. “He is my Son! Mine, where is my Son! Tom, tell me!” Tom’s head hung low, his eyes wide, tears trickling. Hadley started to hit Tom’s broad chest with her fists. “Tell me!” She screamed, tears falling.

Shamefully, Tom whispered, “Gia was driving him home from his doctor’s appointment.” As he started to speak, Hadley stopped hitting him and stepped away, bouncing from foot to foot as if she were about to box. “She stopped at a red light, and when it turned green, she went. But another car ran the red. He broadsided Gia’s car. Gia and the other driver are both in intensive care. He was drinking. Adam…” Tom choked, struggling to continue “Adam didn’t make it.” No.

Lunging forward, Hadley attacked Tom, screaming “He is my Son!” Tom tried to grab her arms as she scratched at his face. “You were supposed to protect him, keep him safe!” Tom got a hold of both of her arms, wrapping his own around Hadley, restraining her as she struggled. “How could you let this happen!” Hadley bit Tom’s shoulder and he shouted in pain, maintaining his powerful grip around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.” Tom shouted back, trying to shake free of Hadley’s maw. Hadley loosened her bite to spit in Tom’s face. Surprised, Tom let go of Hadley and she lunged at Tom, but Simon caught her around the waist, her blue dress tearing as she struggled towards Tom. Simon pulled her in, turned her around and hugged her, hard. Defeated, Hadley fell limp, arms hanging listlessly at her sides.

“He was my…son.” She sobbed in Simon’s arms. He was ours.


Thanks for reading!

Next chapter: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/08/daily-blog-9717/