We are West Virginia

The thunder shook the house waking me from a deep sleep.  Lightning flashed like a strobe light making strange patterns through the bedroom curtains.  The rain pouring down on my tin roof, a sound that usually comforted me, sounded like the thundering hoofs of a thousand horses.

I got up and went into the living room, I knew the storm would prevent the satellite from connecting, so I grabbed my laptop prayed I could connect long enough to check the weather.  As the interactive radar slowly loaded, I was stunned by the amount of red that covered our state.

To the South and the East of me the map showed massive amounts of rain and lightning strikes.  I whispered a prayer that everyone would make it through the storm and then I climbed into bed and tried to get a little more sleep.

And still it rained.

I awoke with a start as another loud clap of thunder shook my little house.  It was daylight so I had apparently slept for a couple of hours.  Staggering to the kitchen to make coffee, I turned on the television.  Of course, with the weather being so bad, the satellite would not connect.

I connected to the internet and logged into Facebook.  Pictures of the devastation scrolled by, houses flooded, roads under water……tears streaked my face.

And still it rained.

The day dragged by, spotty reception making it seem longer than it actual was.

And still it rained.

I stood on the porch and looked across my flooded yard.  I live on a ridge, high out of the flood plain, yet the rain came down so fast that the water didn’t have a chance to drain.  Thunder roared like a trapped beast and lightning cut across the darkened sky.  I worried for those that lived in low laying areas.

And still it rained.

The television finally connected and I turned to a local station.  “Local” for me being a station almost one hundred miles away.  The pictures they were showing were heart wrenching, houses completely under water, only their roofs showing, roads entirely covered, bridges gone.  The streets of Richwood as boulders larger than I am were washed down the streets.  Clendenin as the water raised deeper and deeper.  White Sulphur Springs as houses began to float away and then burst into flames as the propane tanks exploded.  I cried for the trapped, I cried for the lost and for the loss of everything.

And still it rained, the sky emitting a torrent of tears for what had been done.

And then the rain stopped, but the water did not.

It poured out of river banks, it slammed across  fields and golf courses, it crested against bridges building up a barrier of broken trees and items it had stolen from the many houses it had destroyed, it weighed against the bridges until the bridges could stand no more and they too joined in the fray of broken items roaring away with the river.

Land was literally stolen from underneath the roadways, causing the roads to collapse and disappear with the very thing that caused their destruction. 

The sound of the thunder was all but drowned out by the cries of the people and the sound of the raging river.  Slowly the thunder faded, leaving behind a thunder of a different sort……..the thunder of a thousand prayers going up for those impacted by the floods.   The river still raged, the wind still blew, but the prayers and good energy flew straight and true.

The devastation was and is enormous.  The losses uncountable.  The loss of everything you’ve ever worked for, of everything you have ever owned is minuscule in comparison to the loss of lives.  Brothers lost to the raging water, Mothers lost to not only the flood but the burning of homes,
Children without anything wondering if they will ever see their siblings again. 

The rain had turned to tears.

The pain our State feels, the devastation we are suffering brings even the strongest of us to tears.  Not only have our neighbors lost their homes, their possessions, their lives, but now they are faced with a foot or more of mud, mud that contaminates everything it touches, mud that could cause death as surely as the rain did.  Some places are still under water, or have standing water pooled around it, standing water that is a perfect breeding ground for disease carrying insects and bacteria.

The tears have slowed, although they may never stop.

Amidst all of the devastation there are bright spots.  Neighbors coming from miles away with food and water, bleach and cleaning supplies.  Those same neighbors rolling up their sleeves to receive the shots they must have in order to help clean up the mess Mother Nature left behind.  Strangers that live miles away becoming friends as they deliver water and supplies to those who had something to go back “home” to or offer places to stay to those who have lost even the buildings that contained their lives.

An older man who had lost his beloved wife a few years ago and was overwhelmed by the destruction the flood left behind.  He was happy he still had the “home” he shared with his wife, but devastated that all the things that reminded him of her were now beyond saving.  Until they reached the bedroom.  There, on the headboard lay his wife’s Bible.  It was wet and covered in mud, but it, unlike the other books in the home, was in one piece.  Not one page was even so much as bent, each and every printed word was still there as was his beloved wife’s handwriting.  Everyone’s cheeks were once again wet with tears only this time they were tears of gratitude as the elderly man laid that precious book on the bannister to dry. 

A family devastated by the loss of their beloved son only a few years ago to a war they didn’t understand or support, were dealt a double blow.  Their home was gone, washed away by the raging power of the flood.  Out of all the things they lost, the pictures of their son was the only thing that could never be replaced.  Then as the cleanup began and the magnitude of what had happened began to sink in, a miracle happened.  Someone walked up holding out a framed picture, it had been found almost five hundred yards from where the house once stood.  Smiling up from the mud smeared glass was their son.  The picture was almost dry and even the glass hadn’t been broken.  Now, they said, now they can go on.

A couple that had been camping by the river and was now presumed dead, found alive and safe miles away from the destruction.

A beloved pet found, wet and frightened, but alive and well.

A young boy whose family had lost everything they possessed, radiant with happiness as a National Guard service man handed him a new hat.  Now the little boy HAD something of his very own, something that wasn’t covered in mud or washed downstream.

People from all over Appalachia coming to the aid of their “hillbilly” neighbors as food and water begin to arrive.  Then Appalachia hands them another miracle, people from all over pour in to assist in any way they can, where ever they can.

West Virginia still needs supplies, we need water and non perishable food, we need bleach and cleaning supplies, rubber gloves and steel toed boots, diapers and formula, dog food and cat litter, shampoo and soap, deodorant and toothpaste. We will need hammers and nails, boards and drywall, and all of the other things it takes to build houses and we will need sheets and towels, pots and pans, dishes and silverware.  We will need everything because we are starting all over again.

We will need assistance in cleaning up and rebuilding, because we will rebuild. 

That is who we are, we are strong, we are resilient, we are stubborn and we are humble.

We stand proudly beside one another.

We help those we can.

We are Appalachia, We ARE West Virginia.  

Secrets Uncovered

Dionysus cowered in his bed as the sound of Nyx’s voice echoed across Olympus. A small part of his brain wondered if every sound from Lethe’s chambers echoed that way, and if it did what their lovemaking must have sounded like. Not that they actually made love, it was more like fighting a war each and every time he and Lethe got together.

The satisfied smirk that had begun to play across his generous mouth changed into a grimace of pain as hands made entirely of shadows snatched him from his hiding place and launched him toward the door. No one could hide from the primordial Goddess, as he was personally finding out. Pain flared as the fingers of darkness sank into his flesh and dragged him toward a place he swore he would never return.

The door burst open just as he was flung toward it, leaving him to land in a tangled heap at the feet of the one woman he wished to never see again. Lethe’s eyes bulged as she realized who the babbling mess on the floor in front of her was.

She wailed like a banshee before launching herself at him. “You fat, worthless bastard. I said..”

Nyx flashed out a hand and Lethe was slammed to the floor with such force the tiles burst.

“Enough! I do NOT care about your petty quarrel with this slug, I only care that he helps your sister. Afterwards you may tear him limb from limb. Just don’t get blood on my dress.” Even now, amidst all the turmoil, Nyx managed to keep her dark humor.

“Get up, Dionysus, and be quick about it. My patience is wearing thin and you are treading on it.” Nyx turned her black eyes in his direction causing him to quiver with fear. “Stop shaking and stand up. You were man enough to seduce my granddaughter, now be man enough to cure her sister.”

Before Dionysus could respond he was propelled toward the small, feminine form draped across the couch. Although he had never met her, he knew this was Lethe’s sister, whom they called Lisa. From the way her head lolled back, it was obvious she was dead drunk.

“What’s the hurry? She’s only drunk.” Dionysus regretted saying it as soon as the words left his lips. Nyx would not have dragged him here if her granddaughter was merely drunk, there was something he was missing.

His head jerked as a hard slap made his ears ring. No one had come near him and yet he felt as though he had been kicked by a mule.

“She drank uncut Ambrosia. And entire jug of it.” Mitch said in a calm voice. Dionysus stiffened at the sound of his voice, there was no love lost between them and Mitch had vowed that if he ever laid eyes on Dionysus again he would have his head. Literally.

Dionysus swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. This was bad, oh this was so bad. Uncut Ambrosia caused even the most stable of their kind to be unpredictable and dangerous. And from what he had heard Lisa most certainly wasn’t stable, and she was unpredictable and dangerous to start with. This was so bad.

“Don’t just stand there, DO SOMETHING!!” The glass in the windows broke and the plaster walls cracked from the force of Nyx’s demands. “NOW!”

Dionysus took a tentative step toward the Ambrosia drunk goddess, unsure that anything he could do would make a difference in the outcome. But he had to do something or else die in the most painful of ways. The Primordial Goddess could make even Zeus cry like a baby and she had proven that she enjoyed killing her enemies only to bring them back and kill them again. He was so fucked.

Reaching out his hand, he laid his palm against Lisa’s forehead. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to sink into her drunk mind. Visions of blood and death invaded him, pain racked his body as he dove even deeper into her Ambrosia clouded thoughts. The Ambrosia had amplified her powers, chaos and confusion clouded his thoughts as he struggled to absorb the magic laden liquor. Never before had he struggled with such darkness, usually when one of the others had gotten a hold of his uncut version of Ambrosia they couldn’t consume more than a mouthful before the power overwhelmed them and sent them spiraling into unconsciousness.

His body contorted as yet more images of death racked his senses. He realized that Lisa was the granddaughter of Nyx, but until now he didn’t realize that she was a direct descendent of the Primordial, more powerful than even the oldest among them. He had to absorb as much of the magic as he could or else they would all suffer the final Death, of that he was sure. His fear of Nyx took second place to the terror he felt as he drew more and more of the Ambrosia into himself, for with it came the knowledge that only the One was more powerful than the Ambrosia drunk woman that lay before him.

Nyx paced restlessly as she watched the Drunkard God attempt to save her granddaughter. She idly wondered how much Dionysus would discover as he sucked in the poison that coursed through Lisa’s system. With that thought came another, darker one, would she have to destroy him to keep the family secret from being discovered? She almost felt sorry for him, almost, but not quite, for he had brought this upon himself by screwing around with one of her grandchildren.

Mitch stood quietly across the room. He looked at his Mother, wondering if she realized that he was aware of who and what Lisa actually was. Did Nyx actually believe that her manipulation wouldn’t be found out? Did she think that she could hide the power of the universe inside one of them and the rest wouldn’t discover it? His Mother was not a fool, yet to do what she had done was foolish. Perhaps her love for them had overshadowed her fear of making a mistake, or perhaps her quest for power allowed her to use them all for her own purposes.

No matter the outcome of this little situation, Mitch was determined to find out exactly what his Mother was up to. He only hoped that Lisa would survive the effects of the Ambrosia with at least some of her senses intact. She had gone insane once before and they had dealt with it the best they could, but now her powers were awakened and there was no way they could control her the way they once had.

Lisa moaned and began to thrash about, throwing her arms up in a defensive posture. Nyx’s eyes turned to slits of midnight as she stared at the scene that played out before her, if Dionysus did not manage to save her grandchild she would tear him apart bit by bit. Lethe crept closer to her sister, fear turning her already pale skin even whiter. Placing a hand on Dionysus shoulder, she lent him her strength to continue.

Visions flashed before her eyes. Darkness, so complete it rivaled death, cold and still. The flares of light, strong, white light and the sound of a thousand voices singing in harmony. She realized she had just experienced the birth of the planets, the beginnings of life as it was now known to be. Then pain racked her body, the smell of blood and death invaded her senses as the she saw the first people destroyed. Before she could collapse under the weight of those visions, Mitch lowered her to the couch beside her sister and took her place, his hand resting upon the shoulder of Dionysus as his power joined the younger god’s in a battle that could end them all.

Nyx was frozen in place as she watched the scene play out. Now they would all know that Lisa was more than she seemed. Now they would all realize the true reason for the theft of her granddaughter’s memories, for the death of her family’s human bodies and the reason Nyx had allowed her to suffer so. The silent war that had been fought since creation would be laid bare before anyone that attempted to clean Lisa of the poisoned wine that ran through her system.

For the first time since she blossomed into life, Nyx felt fear.