Kelevra

We got 12-13 more chapters to go. Its all outlined, its just a matter of me having time and focus to do it

This chapter makes my heart warm as Jacob reconciles with his boys and makes me want to throttle Sunny.

im working on it!

“And Novo makes 8. That's a full house,” Tyler said with a shit-eating grin. All of the brothers except for Teo stood in a line before us, just like they had when we first walked into the house. The last time we were all in this front room was when we rushed. Standing here six days later, it was clear how much things had changed. These guys weren’t strangers; they were my pledge bros. They risked death for me. It took Kevin to make me realize that. “So, today has been a day, hasn’t it?

you could walk into my grandmother's house, and she was stewing tomatoes for the sauce with dinner. there was ALWAYS sauce for something. She grew up in Eastern Europe as an orphan of the First World War. She became a cook and never stopped. My grandfather had a massive tomato garden with 5 different varieties. Some were for sauces; some were for canning, others to be used with his homemade mayonnaise for tomato sandwiches. He grew up on a reservation during the Depression, so if they wanted something, they had to make it. I remember a few things they tried to teach me, but I was so young, so it's all very fragmented. This is the clearest memory I have of the house, and even it is fragmented between the day and night because the house was so dark to prevent my grandma from getting headaches. We probably had tomato sandwiches for lunch, pierogi with garlic, onion, and brown butter sauce one night, and pasta with tomato sauce another night. It might have been a weekend, which is why the light got changed out the next day (I wasn't a fan; it didn't make cool shadows). It's still WILD to me that I can remember this kinda stuff at all since for so many years, everything before like 12 was blank. I knew stories, other people's versions of it, but no real memory of it myself.

Nights like tonight make me miss things Stupid things Things that no one else would miss. The sound of distant traffic through open windows Sitting on old shag carpet Parents sitting on a well worn yellow couch with brown and orange lines Grandpa showing off his and grandmas new recliners at the center of the room Pictures all the way back to their childhoods on all of the old oak furniture. The high pitched whine of a CRT tv finally getting decent signal from the antenna Shadows dancing on the cheap wood paneling from the hanging glass lamp dad swears he will replace as soon as he can get down to the store. My grandpa calling me into the kitchen to sneak me M&Ms The slam of the screen door as everyone walked in and out to smoke Grandma so proud when we would get the puzzle on wheel of fortune A stiff twin bed with stale sheets with a hint of the cigarette smoke coming in through the open window Tomorrow that light will get changed and by months end both of my grandparents would be dead but tonight theres tomato sandwiches, pasta and meat sauce, and cheese pierogi in the kitchen. Help yourself, jeopardy is about to start.

I must have been 6 when my mom asked me to knock on the door across the hall. Two marines answered. I dutifully repeated what my mom told me, that if they could spare a few bucks she would give them a home-cooked meal. I didn't understand the weight of what I said. I didn't understand then how life-changing their saying yes was. I didn't go to bed hungry again for 5 years. I was 15 when my school's football coach and SRO found drugs in my PE locker. You could tell it was my locker as one of my fellow students was nice enough to carve “FAG” into the painted steel mesh door. I sat in handcuffs in the coaches office while he told me that I would never amount to anything. I met with a public defender they negotiated a plea deal: 6 months in juvenile detention and they would drop intent to sell thus keeping me in juvenile court and not tried as an adult. I didn't go to bed hungry again for 6 months. I was 16 when that same football coach watched me, now clean from drugs and fed, sprint to chase and tackle someone who stole my iPod shuffle. He hauled me into his office again, only this time to congratulate me. Jail was good for me. I got clean, I gained muscle, and most of all gained confidence. The school had me banned from extracurriculars for the year, but he told me to show up at football practices anyway, off the record. He eventually convinced the principle to relax a bit and let me be the team manager. The only times I went to bed hungry were when I fell asleep studying plays or doing homework. I was 17 the first time I picked up a gear bag with my name on it. The team knew what I could do, we had practiced all the previous season and all summer. Now i was on the team. Walking out of that locker room though you could still see that locker, steel mesh dented where a key had run. Coach always grabbed my shoulder if he saw me staring at it, moving me along. It's rare I've gone to bed hungry since. For the majority of my life, I haven’t gone to bed hungry. I haven’t cowered in fear. But I haven't been able to break away from those times I was. Like in that locker room, I catch myself staring at those times, those different versions of myself. My full belly tries to forget going to bed hungry scared and alone. But it can't. So, on nights like tonight, when the bourbon was plentiful and the conversation was deep, a part of me still hungers for something. My inner child demands it. So no, I will not feel bad about my 2 a.m. McDonald's 2 cheeseburger meal…

I appreciate this man! Im workin hard on several fronts and really cant thank y'all enough for the support and patience. I do this for fun and as a way of relaxing after long days and during breaks and lunches. Thank y'all for not making trying to get this story out a burden and still something fun.

The windshield wipers kept perfect time with whatever Taylor Swift song Track had chosen. “So why Taylor Swift, and why do all of these say “Taylor’s version” on them?” I asked as we chewed the miles. “She is amazing! She had to re-record all her songs to retain ownership. I'm sorry, it's not simple like Ronnie Milsap or anything,” He said, sticking his tongue out at me. “Do not speak ill of Ronnie Milsap, or I will turn this car around.” I joked right back. “Oh yeah, I'm sur

It was like I was floating. No weight at all. Just a tiny pressure on my back. A slow melodic tone rang almost as if it was in the background. It was as if I was bathed in white light, so bright I couldn’t even see my own body. Over time I could hear more than the melodic ringing, a low rumble of a crowd, but it also felt incredibly close. If only I could move, I might be able to touch them. “Not to worry Doc, we are never as far as it seems.” It was like I was falling. The bright whit

Well, that sucked. Three years ago, I decided to return to school because my body couldn't pull 00 cables through underground conduit anymore. I was tired of my body coming home in pain and living off painkillers to function. Being a construction electrician was good money, but it took a toll on my body. My first significant improvement was moving from construction to maintenance, going from high to low voltage, and doing more controls instead of panels. That first semester of school coincided with this change and was a challenge until covid hit and all our sites shut down. We returned to work right after finals, and with a few months of sleeping and eating well under my belt, I was a sponge learning this new challenge. I took summer classes and managed to balance everything. And that's how the next two years went. I did my first in-person Lab for physics and met a guy from the DTD house who invited me to a summer party. The fraternity adopted me (making me an honorary) and generally made my fall semester unforgettable, taking an in-person lab for facility design. Then, because I do everything backward (joining a frat my junior year of college), in what was supposed to be my 2nd to last semester, I took my 2nd science: chemistry. It only offered in-person lectures and in-person labs. In all my time in college, I had never done an in-person college lecture, only labs. It was a heavy lift, especially for someone with documented memory issues and severe ADHD. But I managed. I had to turn everything that wasn't school or work off for the three weeks before finals to prepare and ensure I had everything, but I did it. What I was not prepared for was the crash after finals. I hadn't just burned the candle at both ends; I'd blowtorched the candle until nothing was left. I came home from work the Tuesday after my last final, expecting to do dishes, laundry, and write. Instead, I slept on my couch until my alarm for work went off. I did the dishes on Wednesday before falling asleep on the couch. I've just had no energy, no focus, no nothing until the last few days. That said, the focus is intense; I've written nine pages. I finished the semester with 2 A's worth six credits and 2 B's worth four credits (chem lecture and chem lab). I earned those grades when I didn't think it was possible. I was never a good student until I returned to college as an adult. I never thought anyone would read what I wrote and like it. I never considered myself an intelligent person. Now I'm a subject matter expert on several systems at work, I have people bugging me for chapters of a story I'm writing, and I have an overall college GPA of 3.4. I am more than I thought I was. It's still a daily fight to push through, but I am still here.

Given my last week, one of the things that makes me happy is that i was able to do this for you. ❤️❤️

I didnt even realize until just now that this is my longest chapter by 1500 words. This was a long but cathartic write. Thank you for your patience and encouragement. Last semesters hell week included some team building but more in the gross and embarrassing vs actual team enrichment. If i could do what these guys do to their pledges to force them to work together we would be having alot less issues

I woke up to a kick from Track’s flailing. His night terror and our close quarters put me in the danger zone for the first time. “I got you; you're ok. Yer ok, champ.” I whispered to him after catching his arms and holding them at his sides in a partial hug, partial restraint. It took a few minutes, but he seemed to calm down upon hearing my voice. He stopped struggling and instead cuddled into me, holding him. “Thanks, Josh,” he eventually said while I held him. I could feel

I would say at least 1/3 of the credit of this chapter goes to my friends who edit and really helped me work out how to balance the flashbacks. I wanted to give Novo that sense of panic and Im proud I could pull it off.

The van made a hard turn onto a gravel road. The transition from somewhat smooth pavement to unpaved road jostled all pledges in the back. Without being able to see the road, it was hard to brace for the bumps and dips. We knocked into each other at an increasing rate as the road got less and less smooth. My shoulder got jammed into a gap where the seat could fold down. “I don't want you to see where I'm fucking taking you,” my dad said from the front seat, “don't want you finding a way bac

On August 24th of 2022, I went to what seemed to be a routine therapy appointment. I have complex PTSD stemming from, well, lots of places. This led to depression, anxiety, and an impossibly tricky minefield of things that would set me off for no reason. In fact, that same day, I had a panic attack, hearing metal bats hit softballs. This was new, as I had watched the summer of softball games in the employee league, and only on this day was it a problem. My therapist decided to do some EMDR on this, as it's a process we had been using to work with these random triggers. EMDR therapy involves my eyes following a light back and forth while she asks questions. It works particularly well with me as my conscious effort is to follow the light so the quiet back part of my brain can speak up. My sense of self was built on a foundation of holes, where missing parts of my memory were covered with straightforward explanations and a requirement, almost an obligation, not to dig too deep. However, the path I had to follow to avoid those holes and random land mines got to be too much, hence the therapy appointment on that day. Something else happened that day. @The Writer Xwould post the last chapter of his updated version of The Brotherhood on Nifty. I identified with Jacob for a lot of reasons. We shared a lot of the same traumas. When my therapist dropped the lights, and my eyes started to follow that little green dot back and forth, it was as if a dam in my brain broke. I could suddenly remember almost everything. Entire blank years were now coming forth, fresh and clear as if they hadn't been spoiled by the passage of time. And they kept coming. For weeks. If I didn't know better, it was as if my skin had gone grey, and I had grown black wings. We didn't use the EMDR machine again until February. This is all to say; I don't know who I am. At least not fully. My memories are new, and so I'm still learning to cope with them. The last decade of my life, where I thought I was making "progress," was erased in a single visit. But I'm still here. There are days when I can't remember if I took my medications, but I can remember the smell of freshly cut grass on the football field before a game. I can remember the feel of pigskin in my hand from a catch and how I took a hit, but not if I emailed my boss. I can remember who I was, but I struggle with who I am. On November 18th, I sent what would become Chapter 1 of Flamekeepers to The Writer X. He encouraged me to post it on this site. Today I submitted the 6th chapter of this story to the site. In the last four months, I have found a tiny community of people who like my stuff, a mentor who, without knowing, pushes me to do better, and a fantastic group of friends who are ok with me learning who I am. So to you, denizens of this site who have welcomed me with open arms, this beer is for you. We got a bonfire just inside the tree line. Come howl at the moon with the bad dog. -Kelev

I’ve grown to just embrace the final edit it makes you do, rereading and clearing out the extra spaces.

If I had to hazard a guess, it would be The Brotherhood by @The Writer X since this is absolutely inspired by them.

Currently editing ch 6! Hopefully this weekend will get it into the moderation queue.

Agents L and M will see you now since J and K are busy .

Thank you my friend. Was just some tachycardia that took some physically exhausting tests to figure out where it was coming from. Looks like its in the rear view with some lifestyle changes *shudder*. No more mixing caffeine and ADHD meds

The humvee rattled as I drove past marker tango and made the turn to return to the checkpoint. Novo held onto the squawk mic for dear life, focusing entirely on it. The tension was obvious; even Harveson could pick up on it. I kept us on the path, giving Harveson a chance to make sure the fence was secure. We were deep in the middle of nowhere, so it wasn't likely someone would fuck with the perimeter, but we couldn’t be sure. We followed the route to the checkpoint marker, and I killed the

Hey all, Im sorry for the delay on Ch 5, had a medical issue that put me down for a week, but I just sent it to my friends who are going to try and catch the grammar issues before I publish it. Once that’s done ill submit it for moderation. Probably Monday the 13th knowing how the moderation queue works.

We stood with thumbs up our asses, staring at those eight stools. My heart rate pounded like a freight train in my ears. Fear. Cold-blooded fear filled my brain. These guys I had spent all day getting to know and learning to work with would now, along with myself, be judged. “You can take a seat at any time,” I barely heard Teo say over the sound of my own pounding heart. Kevin moved to sit down, and the rest of us followed. I worked to control my breathing. Surrounded by bothers at th