This isn’t real.  Talons long and curved.  They wo

uld tear through my flesh so easily, like it was dough.  Scales glistening a deep purple, the occasional chain criss-crossing over them.  The wings are so thin, the light shines through them like stained glass.  But they are bound in an awkward angle.  My gaze moves up to meet this frightening creature’s eyes.  Red like rubies.  Or roses.  Or blood.  Pain slashes through my skull.  I double over as my stomach lurches.  I know the color of blood.  New, freshly spilled blood.  I blink away black spots and straighten to look at this beast again.  No.  Not red.  Green like an emerald.  And slitted like a cat’s.  

    “This isn’t it,”  I manage to whisper hoarsely.  “It’s not the same one.”  

    A murmur seeps from the crowd behind me.  Of course they came.  Who wouldn’t want to see a real life dragon.  I would have been one of them too, if not for the incident that has forever changed my rainbow world to one color.  Red.  It’s almost as if God was painting my life, but spilled the dreaded color all over the canvas.  

    “Are you positive?  Did you manage to see the other dragon well enough?  Perhaps you shouldn’t be so sure-”

    “It isn’t it,”  I repeat.  Louder this time.  My voice rings.  “This is not the same one.”  More murmurs.  This time more nervous.  After all, this village isn’t very far from my old one.  They could see the smoke.  Probably heard the screams.  Some people said they saw a winged shape.  It could have easily flown the distance over the dark green forest top and had another meal, but for some reason beyond my understanding, it didn’t.  Not that I’m upset it didn’t.  Even these rather simple-minded townsfolk knew they couldn’t stand a chance against a dragon.  This one however, was captured while it was sleeping and given enough potent herbs that it would be docile.  And this creature is more petite than the other one.  This one is maybe half the size, with lean muscles, rather than large bulky ones.  Perhaps it’s faster.  I snap out of my daze.  It doesn’t matter.  Dragons are still dragons.  And we need to find a way to kill this one.  Immune to almost all lethal poisons, skin like armour, and insides just as tough, I don’t see how we can.  A bitter taste fills my mouth and I clench my teeth.  That is what hate tastes like.  

    “Thank you for the effort,”  I mutter, and walk quickly away, head down.  I walk past the small, peaceful cottages to the bakery, where Ms. Cobalt, the owner has allowed me to stay.  I walk through the swinging doors and am immediately assaulted with questions.  

“How was it?”

“I heard from Lormus it was purple!”

“Mother won’t let us go see!”

    Ms. Cobalt’s young twin sons pester me.  I open my mouth, then close it again, like a fish.

“I’m tired.  Excuse me,”  I say with forced smile.  I walk quickly up the steps to my room.  There is a bed with a quilt, a bedside table, and a dresser full of Ms.Cobalt’s daughter’s old clothes, who has long since married.  Ms.Cobalt’s husband died long before I came, so only Ms.Cobalt, the twins, and I live here.  I sit down roughly onto the mattress and set my head on my hands, palms digging into my skull.  I allow my curly brown hair to cover my face.  It has been months since the accident.  Two I have spent lying in a bed, recuperating from my injuries and trying to cope with what life had thrown my way.  

When the golden dragon attacked, the children saw the winged shape in the sky, and stupidly ran out to catch a better look at this magnificent beast featured in traveling minstrel’s songs.  I was among them.

“A dragon!”  I had breathed, voice airy with child-like excitement.  As if I was four years old rather than fourteen.  I had quickly snatched my boots, shoving them on as I raced outside like everyone else.  

“Claris!  No!”  my mother had shrieked, attempting to grab my tunic in her hands.  But I was already out of the house, head upturned in wonder, like all the other children.  My father was racing after me.  

“Claris get back in the house!”  But I was entranced by the powerful creature circling through the air above us.  Fire light danced off it’s golden scales.  The dragon’s body was so fluid, its form was like liquid metal.  

“Please!”  my father had shouted as the dragon began to land.  Maybe it was the fact that my headstrong father was begging me, or that my slow mind had finally realized that it probably wouldn’t be very good if the creature landed, but I snapped out of my trance, my head snapping around to look at my father.  Just as the golden dragon landed, it was right between my father and me, but its lizard-like eyes didn’t cast me a single glance.  With a ferocious, predator-like roar, it bore down on my father.  I could just stand there, stunned, as the scent of blood filled my nostrils.  Finally, its eyes had looked up at me.  

Red.

The color matched the shade of my father’s blood, that coated its muzzle.  My heart was in my ears.  My heart and my breathing was I could hear.

Ba-bump

Inhale.  Exhale.

Its slitted pupils dilated.  I turned and ran.  Feet pounded the packed dirt as the golden murderer behind me raced forward, ignoring crowds of terrified, shrieking children.  It had only wanted me.  I could feel the dirt its talons were kicking up spray my legs.  I could also feel its hot, thick breath, that had smelled like blood envelope me.  With my energy depleted, I had leapt forward blindly, and tripped and fallen on something hard.  I remember a brief free fall before I had crashed into something with a sickening thwack and everything had gone black.  

Turns out I had fallen into a cave, much too small for the dragon to fit through.  I can imagine its bright red eye covering the hole I had fallen through, looking for me.  I shudder involuntarily at the mental image.  

And they found another one of them.  For all we know, this one could be related to the golden dragon that had killed everyone in my village.  Hopefully, it won’t take much time for the farmers to figure out how to actually kill this one.  I remember them talking about drowning it.  Try as I might to suppress it, I feel a small pang of pity in my stomach.  Drowning is a cruel way to die.  To have your lungs burning and be helplessly thrashing.  I used to go swimming with my father, and when I tried to swim too deep into a lake that was near my old village, I would have the horrible feeling.  I remember its eyes.  Green as the grass stains on my father’s coat, or my mothers old emerald ring.  This new dragon’s eyes brought back nostalgic memories.  I have only seen two pairs of dragon eyes before, but they control my emotions in two, very different ways.  

I snap out of my trance, (I have been going into “trances” quite often recently) when I realize that the sky is now a deep dark blue, shrouding this small village, dubbed “Eve,” in shadows the colors of lapis lazuli.  

Blue.

That is also a prominent color in my life, yet it cannot shine past the brilliant, overpowering red.  Very calm, yet full of sadness.  I feel as if I am in shock.  I should be sobbing much, much more.  My anger should be blazing red-hot.  Instead, I am full of quiet rage.  Ice cold rather than burning.  I want them back.  I want my life back.  But, I have been thrust into adulthood much too soon for a fourteen year old.  I’m still technically a child, but I already understand that you can’t get everything you want, no matter how hard you wish for it.  

My thoughts drag me back to the jewel-hued dragon that was caught, chained so roughly.  These townsfolk are being cruel, even for a prisoner sentenced to death.  

I stand up with an exasperated sigh.  I shouldn’t be worrying about that dragon.  But, another adult-like quality I have is that I have grown used to the way my mind works.  It will not stop moving until I have satisfied its hunger.  

Because it is evening, most of Eve’s citizens are in their houses, enjoying dinner.  I took Ms. Cobalt’s daughter’s old cloak to protect me from the crisp night air.  I ghost by cottages, on a mission.  

I finally make it to the center of town, where I had been introduced to the dragon.  I see its large shape, being watched by farmer volunteers.  I peer out at it from behind a house.  There are more chains that have now been anchored to the ground.   The chains are rusty, and squeal when the poor animal shifts.  Those farmers jump every time.  I roll my eyes.  If it could have broken out, it obviously would have.

I walk forward.  

“Who’s there?”  one of the guards asks.

“Claris,”  I respond.  “May I please look at the dragon one last time?  T-to make sure.”  I make sure my voice sounds small and feeble and silently congratulate myself.  I have become far too good at lying.  

“I’m not sure if we’re supposed to,”  one of the men says, unsure.

“Please?  I just need one more look,”  I plead, practically begging.  

“Well, I suppose, but don’t get too close that thing.”  This man spits out the last word with contempt, which makes me angry.  He knows nothing of this creature which he now holds prisoner.  He cannot judge.  Although, these people were far too easy to win over.  

“Thank you!”  I add so much enthusiasm to my voice, it’s dripping from the words like honey.  I take a few steps, but the guards don’t budge.

“Alone, please?”  I ask.  One of the men begins to protest but is quickly waved off.  Then all four shamble off to a bar for a quick drink.  

I avert my attention to the being before me.  The wide, slanted green eyes glow like fireflies in the dark.  Light from house’s oil lamps reflect off the amethyst scales.  But my attention is quickly averted back to the eyes, glistening with unshed tears.  Wait, tears?  I can feel emotions roiling off this poor animal.  It-she, I realize, is scared.  She feels helpless, she desperately needs to leave, she knows she has been sentenced to death.  A perfect, sparkling tear, much like a small crystal, roles across her scaled muzzle.  My feet move forward involuntarily.  My eyes are locked in her green ones, I’m in another trance.  

I move closer, and closer, my feet taking me to this helpless dragon before me.  And before I know it, my outstretched hand is touching her smooth, purple scales.  The emotions that do not belong to me that had I felt earlier hit me like a brick.  I feel so sad, and helpless, and desperate.  I can’t breathe, a shriek wells up inside of me and I snatch my hand back as if it was burned, scrambling away.  What happened?  I don’t understand it.  I stare accusingly into the dragon’s large, green eyes.  She just looks back innocently, as if she doesn’t know why I’m panicking.  I blink in surprise when I realize that already the sky has deepened to a black.  How did it get so late?  With one last look at the chained dragon, I dash away, towards Ms. Cobalt’s house.  

I swing open the door to the bakery, breathing heavily after my run to get to bed.  Ms.Cobalt and the twins are putting dirty dishes into the wash basin.  

“Claris!  We saved you some dinner-”  Ms.Cobalt starts, before I interrupt her.

“Thank you, Ms.Cobalt, but I’m not very hungry,”  I say quickly, already going upstairs.  “Goodnight!”

    I plop down in a heap on the bed’s quilt, I have already dropped the cloak.  I curl up, my mind and body still shaking from the surprising burst of emotions I had felt.  I’m vibrating all over from the adrenaline.  I pull the covers over my head and close my eyes.  I never want to see that dragon again.  

    The next evening, I’m back.  The confusion is too great to ignore.  I reach out once more to touch her, but my hand stops before It can touch her shiny scales.  I can feel her emotions again, but more faint.  I gaze in wonder at this brilliant creature.  Her feelings are bubbling up, out of her body and into me.  Can she feel my emotions, too?  I close my eyes and think of the most fond memory of my mother.  Her weeding her old, precious garden.  When I open my eyes again, the dragon is shedding a tear, not of grief, but happiness.  

    I come again the next day.  I have brought an old wash tub, which I fill with water from a nearby well, and I have a deer carcass that the butcher said I could have, because it would be bad soon anyways.  It took me two trips to get this here.  She digs into the deer carcass as soon as I set it in front of her.  I wince as I hear bones crunch.  As soon as she is finished with that, she slurps up the water, very gracefully.  

    “There you go,”  I whisper.  “Now you’ll feel a little better.”  She looks up at me with her big green eyes.  She’s thanking me, I immediately realize in wonder.  

    I look out my window.  People run, screaming, fire is everywhere.  I don’t know what’s happening.  I start to go get Ms. Cobalt in the next room over, when a red eye covers my window.  

    I wake up in a cold sweat, my breaths are too fast, my lungs fluttering.  I hear a scream from outside my window.  My heart turns so heavy, it’s like it’s been turned to lead, and it drops to my stomach.  I scramble over to my window and look out.

    The dream is true.  I see the people of Eve racing around, trying to hide, or help their family.   I look into the sky and see a back shape circling.  The fire reflects off of golden scales.  

    “Claris?”  I whip around to Ms. Cobalt, standing in my doorway, eyes wide and clutching her sons.  

    “Stay inside!”  I bark as I race downstairs to the door.  They won’t stand a chance.  Humans can’t fight dragons, but I know what can.  

    I run into the air, my lungs are instantly burning with smoke.  I cough and run as fast as possible to the center of town, where a large shape sits.  I yank the abandoned axe of the town woodcutter from a tree stump, nearly pulling my arm out of my socket in the process.  I run up to the dragon.  Her wide eyes are filled with understanding instead of fear and confusion.  I hold my arm up high and swing, letting the heavy axe do most of the work.

    Clank.  A chain link snaps, and the whole metal rope swings free.  

    Clank.  Another broken chain slithers uselessly to the ground.

    Clank.  A third.  The amethyst dragon, brimming with determination, stretches.  The other chains snap.  She looks at me.

    “Please,”  I whisper desperately, my eyes growing wet.  “Help.”  

    With that, she swoops into the air, but not before I feel her bird-like talons grip me.

    “AHHHH!”  My shriek is high pitched and my eyes are squeezed shut.  My back shoulder smack into cold rock, and some of my breath whooshes out of me.  I open my eyes and realize I’m in a cave above the village.  My wide eyes look to see a smaller, more petite dragon silhouette fly over to meet a large one.  She roars, a musical sound.  The golden dragon roars back, loud and ferocious.  I cover my ears as the sounds ring throughout the village, and I quickly scramble to hide behind an oval-shaped boulder.

    The golden dragon makes the first move.  He swings at the purple dragon, Lillafee.  I quickly decide.  My mother’s name.  Lillafee dodges, swooping around to bat at him.  This exchange goes on for a few moments.  They are testing each other’s abilities, I realize.  The golden dragon is strong.  But Lillafee is fast and fluid.  She dodges again and again, avoiding his razor sharp teeth and claws.  He opens his mouth to breathe fire on her, and she is enveloped.  My heart skips a beat.  But, I quickly see her winged, smoking storm shooting out from the blazing inferno.  I release a breath I didn’t know I had been holding.  Fire won’t work on her armour-like scales.  She swipes, he dodges.  He bites at her, but she pushes his stomach back, leaving him with his belly facing her, and disoriented.  She raises her talon, heading for his throat.  Victory!  My heart soars.  But, I realize too late that she has left herself open.

    “NO!”  my shriek rips through the air, but is quickly drowned out by Lillafee’s roar of pain.  Both beasts plummet to the ground, tattered and broken.   

    My heart stops beating. I sit down roughly. It’s my fault.  

    Everything is silent.  

    Until I hear a rattling, cracking sound, shattering the silence.  The boulder I’m next to is quivering.  I stumble backwards, staring at it with horror and confusion.  Why am I always so confused?!  I think angrily.  A piece falls off the rock.

    And a purple, scaled head pokes out.  

    I stare a moment as it opens its large, red eyes.

    The golden dragon was not a stranger to Lillafee.

I was five minutes behind schedule. The subway, which normally arrived at the station at 8:40, had arrived at 8:45. That meant I was going to get to work five minutes late, if not later. I had never been five whole minutes late in my entire life. Well, not since I was six, but I tried not to remember that incident.

My shoes thumped against the pavement, the slight heels just high enough to limit my pace to nothing much faster than a hurried walk. With each step I took, butterflies bubbled up inside of me. Not the good kind of butterflies you got when you were excited. These were the kind that would eat you from the inside out, the kind you got when you knew something bad was going to happen. The butterflies that always came when I got a bad grade, or when my dad would come home late at night, the car swerving so much I was surprised he managed to make it in the driveway. The butterflies were so common nowadays I was considering naming them.

I took a deep breath, and then took a few more.

The glossy building loomed above me, one of the tallest in a city known for its tall buildings. It belonged to Sunshine Co. Sunshine was involved in more than 50% of the top businesses on the market, and though it wasn’t stated outright, owned most of the congressmen currently in office. It employed millions of workers, and I was one of them. A nameless, faceless body in a sea of others just like me. The feeling of worthlessness struck me particularly hard this time, and pushing it down wasn’t working as well as it normally did.

The glass door opened easily under my hand, as smooth and noiseless as it looked. The lobby inside was full of washed out colors and people wearing dark blues and greys. I noticed the bored receptionist behind the desk wore the same outfit as me, a grey pencil skirt paired with a business jacket. Guess we must shop at the same store.

I rushed past the security guard and pressed the call button for the elevator. The doors slid open, and I elbowed into the throng of people. It was odd that the elevator was always crowded no matter what time of day it was; in fact I suspected that was somebody’s job. Standing in the elevator all day with these people almost sounded like a worse job than mine.

I made my way to my cubicle. Its walls were bare and covered in dust, the space inside occupied by a single desk free from any decoration. My chair was worn and squeaky, groaning when I settled into it.

I was about to start up my computer when an unfortunately familiar voice called to me.

“Hey!”

I turned around and was met with the sight of my co-worker, Brian. He was located across the hallway from me, and every time I talked to him I considered asking for a new cubicle. His personality was comprised entirely of fake smiles and random gestures.

“Hi,” I said, not wanting to start a conversation with him.

“Saw you came in a few minutes late today, huh? Little miss perfect is slipping!” he said, wiggling his fingers at me. There was no reason for him to do that, it just looked like he possessed worms for fingers. The absurdness of his actions unfortunately did not prevent the feeling of shame from spreading through me.

“Don’t you have work to do?” I snapped.

“Brr, icy. Did you feel that snow blow in? ‘Cause I did.”

I ignored his overdramatic shivering and focused on getting through my work.

The hours ticked by like they normally did when I was at work, like molasses riding on the back of a snail. When I paused to stretch my back, I realized that it was unusually cold. I was even starting to shiver. Maybe Brian really had felt a cold storm blow in, though I doubted it. The air conditioning was probably acting up.

The skin on the back of my neck tingled as I felt a breeze blow across it. A warning light flashed in the back of my head, telling me that something wasn’t right. It took me a few moments to realize what it was.

The cold air wasn’t caused by a faulty air conditioner.

Someone was blowing on the back of my neck, their breath cold and damp and completely unsettling. I spun around in my chair, primed to yell at the intruder of my personal space. There was nothing there. I turned back to my screen, but after a few minutes I felt it again. I tried to ignore it. I rubbed my hand over my neck. I squirmed and I twisted. The more I struggled the colder the breath became.

After what seemed like hours of this torture, I had the idea to turn my screen dark so I could see behind me. I casually put it on sleep mode and waited to see what appeared. At first I couldn’t see anything unusual, only my round eyes and terrified face. I leaned closer, scrutinising every inch of the screen. It took me a few seconds, but I saw it. Just over my right shoulder was a dark figure.

For a second, I could almost believe it was human.

It started to flicker and swirl, dark shades giving way to even darker ones. It looked like a hurricane made of shadows, the storm pushing and pulling the figure from the inside.

I stumbled out of my chair, flailing and punching at what seemed like thin air. I knew this wasn’t the proper reaction, but my instincts didn’t seem to care. At some point I must have started screaming, because all sorts of people rushed to my cubicle. Brian started to shake me, yelling things that I couldn’t focus on, didn’t have the time to focus on. I saw something slip away in the corner of my eye, and I knew that the shadow must have left. I shoved Brian away from me and pushed my way through the crowd, driven by a strong urge to put as much distance between me and this place as possible.

The chaos of the city did nothing to quell the feeling that I was being pursued. Every once in a while I shot a glance over my shoulder, only to catch the tail end of a shadow dodging out of my sight. I shivered and picked up my pace.

As I dodged through crowds and crossed busy streets, I thought numbly about how my mom would react if I told her what happened. She would scream and spit, waving her arms at me and bursting my eardrums. I could hear her now, using the same voice she used anytime I got a grade that was less than perfect, “All of your hard work, all of my hard work, and this is what you do with it? You’re going to end up at some register working to death! Is that what you want?”

Well, Mom, I did what you wanted. Got a well paying job, but then I blew it.

Maybe I just wouldn’t tell her. I could probably find a different job before I had to talk to her again.

I realized that I didn’t really care if she was going to yell at me. The revelation startled me for a moment. It was such a long leap out from the shadow of fear in which I had lived my whole life that I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t feel anything close to the happiness I should have been feeling. I could only feel the intense fear and helplessness of being followed by something that I couldn’t affect, even though it could affect me.

My apartment building was a welcome sight. It was four stories high, and home to just about thirty residents. Even though my apartment wasn’t the biggest or fanciest, it was on the ground floor and you could see the community garden through the living room window. It had a better view than you usually got in this city of concrete and smoke. I pushed through the door and rushed down the dirty hallway towards my apartment. Some absurd part of me almost believed that the living shadow wouldn’t bother me within my own home, but I knew that was a foolish hope.

 

When I finally made it inside, my first act was to run through the apartment and turn on all the lights. Winded from running faster than I had in years, I sat cross legged on the couch and faced the door. I was tense and alert, waiting for the monstrosity of shadows to breach the safety of its fake wood.

An hour passed, and then another. Minute by minute and second by second, I slowly let my guard down.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I was jumping awake. The light in the room was dimmed, and getting darker. I rushed to the window and peered out. The garden was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the colorful flowers turning dull and grey.

My heart started to hammer in my chest, feeling like it was going to tear through my skin and land in a bloody heap on the window sill. I almost wished that was possible, because it seemed like that fate would be a better one than mine.

The living shadow was back, and it had brought friends.

The darkness came creeping out, crawling and sliding out of every corner and from behind every plant. The shadows were quick to cover whatever surface they could find,  leaving behind an inky, impenetrable night. They gathered at my window, threatening to burst through the glass and smother everything with an avalanche of darkness.

My heart was beating as loud as a drum as I yanked the curtains shut and stumbled backwards. I went over my options as well as I could, barely able to concentrate on anything. My breath caught in my throat, the air failing to move past the barrier of fear lodged in its way.

I knew that I was trapped in my apartment, outside was nothing but darkness. The only option I had was to try and wait out the night.

I realized that the shadows had already found places where they could hide. They were under the couch and behind bookcases, pooling underneath the table and in the cupboards. I needed more light. There was a flashlight on the coffee table, and a few candles scattered somewhere. It wasn’t the best, but it might be enough. I tried not to think about what would happen if I managed to make it through, the thought of facing it all again the next night seemed unbearable.

Five candles, and one flashlight. That was all I had to protect against the shadows. I lit the candles and placed them around the kitchen, making sure to position them where they would drive away most of the shadows. The flashlight I carried with me, ready to aim the beam of wonderful light at any stray shadows I spotted.

Sometime during my rush for safety it had started to storm. I heard a thick crack of thunder over my head, sounding much closer than I would like it to be. It sounded like one of the storms I was taught to never be outside in, lots of rain and even more wind. The thick clouds blocked out any light the moon might have given me.

I heard the wind outside, whispering and yelling. Its voice was as quiet and shrill as it was loud and rumbling. It whispered my mother’s words, demanding and forceful. It told me to put down that paint and pick up that textbook, that I could have gotten a higher grade than that.

I fell to the ground and covered my ears, trying to block out the horrible noise. The sounds shifted, my mother’s harsh lessons giving way to my father’s rough voice yelling unintelligible threats. The wind sounded like broken plates and drunken screams, like sobbing mothers and cold nights. I could feel something itching in the dusty part of my brain, something covered in shadows and spikes that I’d been trying to forget for years.

I let out a small scream as the dreaded memory reached up from the pit I’d pushed it into and swallowed me whole.

 

I was six years old. I remember playing in my room, ignoring my mother’s calls that dinner was ready. She eventually came upstairs, an expression on her face that made me drop my toys with a clatter. I had grown scared then, for I had never seen that much fear on someone’s face before.

I remember being rushed down the stairs, only to see my dad’s tall figure standing at the bottom, his arms crossed and his expression stern. He was yelling something, and before I knew it, I was being thrown out of the house by the back of my shirt.

I landed in a pile of freshly fallen snow, the powdery white substance almost burying my small figure. It was cold, still snowing, and I didn’t have a coat. The moon was high above my head, flanked on all sides by dark clouds. I scrambled out of the snow and tugged at the door handle. It was locked tight.

From behind the door came the loud clamor of shouting voices, one much louder and slurred than the other. I tried to call to them, but the door stayed firmly shut. The voices grew louder, the argument peppered by loud crashes and the sound of breaking glass. I started to cry as I realized how cold and alone I was.

After a minute or two of crying and shivering, my young mind remembered the terror that all children face when confronted by the dark of night. I remember the intense fear that gripped me then, the kind of fear that had previously been reserved for nightmares and the sight of empty liquor bottles. I began to pound on the door. I hammered and screamed. I begged and cried for them to let me in. My only answer was another loud crash.

I remember covering my eyes, trying to pretend I wasn’t living my worst nightmare. The dark played tricks on me, making me feel spindly legs crawling over my small feet and thick scaly tails wrapping around my legs. I had known by then that monsters weren’t real, but common sense usually gives way in the face of terror.

I was shivering uncontrollably, a combination of fear and cold. My fingers had turned a nasty shade, and I remember shoving them in my mouth to try and stop the dull ache stabbing through them. I wished for something I could do to get rid of this horrible dark with its biting cold and invisible monsters.

It had seemed like an eternity before the door opened and my mom pulled me inside, her face bloody and misshapen as she rushed me to a warm bath.

 

I pulled myself out of the memory, feeling strangely calm. I felt more at peace than I had been in years. Laid out in front of me was an entire plan, my whole life from beginning to the possible end. I saw now that my candles had been a hopeless last attempt, that the shadows had been following me my whole life. Even if I did survive this night, it would only be to face the same shadows every night for the rest of my days.

My eyes slid over to the stove. I knew how to make the shadows go away.

 

Tragic Fire At Apartment Complex

A fire broke out late Wednesday night at the Main St. apartment complex. The fire started on the ground floor, and firefighters were able to arrive before the fire spread much further. Investigators are still searching for the cause of the fire. So far there has only been one confirmed fatality.

Cooking Class

I’ll never forget our first kiss…

“…If you didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d bang you,” I slurred after 21 shots. “You should just break up with her right now. Call her! It’ll be totally fine. I’ll call her for you! ‘Hi, Sloane! Kyle is breaking up with you. He has some stuff to do. Bye!’ Is that too mean? Does she-”

            “Leigh, you talk too much,” Kyle whispered. The sound of his voice made the spinning room still. I liked the room when it was spinning.

            “Well, what’re you gonna do about-” Kyle silenced me with his lips, full and warm. He’d been holding back for hours and I could feel the urgency in his kiss. All night he had kept his distance from me in the presence of our friends, but when I separated from the flock, he pounced like a wolf on a wounded sheep. A really wasted sheep. And I loved it. We found an empty bedroom where I let him tear off my sheepskin to reveal the wolf I really was.

            After we had temporarily satisfied our seemingly endless hunger, we laid side by side in the sweat of our passion. Only our hands touched. His long, boney fingers laced themselves through mine and held tight for the duration of the night….

            Those same fingers now turn the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life. I sit in the backseat with Willow. She didn’t tell me he would be here. She probably didn’t tell him I would be here either.  It’s been months since my first night with Kyle, days since I last touched those fingers. The winter evenings are longer and colder now that I spend them alone.

            “Yo, would you hand me the aux cord, man?” Matt asks Kyle from the passenger seat. Without a word, Kyle complies. Matt hooks his phone up to the car and chooses a song for our quest to find Mary Jane. The Mazda remix of Disclosure’s “Help Me Lose My Mind” fills the dank car with sound. The intro that used to get me so pumped up now makes my heart sink. I sit quietly in the back and look out the window. Town lamps flash past like strobe lights…

            …The strobe lights seemed to pulse in time with the beat. Moist bodies grinded against one other, jumped up and down, and let the music flow through them. #Youuu help me lose my miiind…# I stood in a circle with my girlfriends, bouncing on the balls of my bare feet, swaying. Then, I felt a hot breath on my now prominent collarbone and strong hands on my waist. I spun around to face Kyle, who was smirking at me. His handsome face was red and sweaty from running around. We danced facing each other, and when the bass dropped, all hell broke loose. I waved my freckled arms around and whipped my golden curls. I probably looked like a freak, but at least I looked like a hot freak in my short, black dress. I’d started smoking more and eating less so I finally felt confident enough to wear tighter clothes. I glanced at Kyle and he was staring at me like I was a bowl of kief he was about to hit. He pulled me into him by my waist and whispered in my ear, “You look so hot.” His voice was dreadfully deep, and I rarely got to hear it. Every time he spoke, I blocked out all other sounds so only his words could reverberate in my eardrums, like a pipe organ in a cathedral.

            I wondered if Sloane loved the sound of his voice as much as I did. I wondered if she knew deep down that he was lying to her. He told her that he was taking a cooking class at the rec center on Friday nights when he was really with me. Well, technically we did do some baking.

            I felt guilty sometimes, seeing another woman’s boyfriend. But then, he was really attractive.

            I tugged his tie downwards so I could whisper back, “Not as hot as you.” He groaned a little and stepped back so he could look me up and down, his brown eyes filled with desire. I held onto his tie and pulled him back to me. “Can I kiss you?” I asked him. He shrugged and placed his hands on my bony hips. I stood on my tiptoes to reach his perfect lips. He tasted like the bowl we’d smoked on our way here, but I guess he always tasted like that…

            That bitter taste fills my mouth now as I exhale a light grey ganja cloud. I pass the pipe to Kyle, careful not to accidentally brush his fingers, though I want to so badly. He takes it from me without a word or a look or any acknowledgment, as if it had just floated into his line of sight by pure THC magic.

            I lie back in my seat, close my eyes, and wait for things to get better. I wait to forget about Kyle: his long fingers, his shaggy hair, his hot breath, his supple lips, his whispered words, his broken promises…

            “…When are you going to tell Sloane about us?” I asked him. We sat on the roof of his house, watching the leaves fall and packing another bowl.

            “Soon,” was all he said.

            “But you said that months ago.”

            He just shrugged.

            I sighed in frustration. “Kyle, we can’t go on like this. It isn’t fair. To anyone.”

            “So, don’t,” he said without looking up.

            I blinked. “Excuse me?”

            “Don’t go on like this. Leave.”

            I was shocked. “But I don’t want to leave. I want to be with you.”

            “You are with me.”

            “I can’t really be with you until you leave her. You have to choose. Who do you really want?”

            “You. I’ll tell her soon. I promise. Now, drop it…”

            I’m still waiting to forget the ignored calls, the ring on her finger, the unresolved end. He chose her and didn’t even bother to send me a cancellation text. He took my body and my voice, rolled them into a blunt, and smoked them to Hell. Now my ashes sit in the backseat of his car, waiting to forget.

            Once the physical and mental grass haze clears, a bottle of eye drops finds its way into my hands. I tilt my head back to wash the windows of my soul. Suddenly, clarity hits and I laugh. Like, really hard.

            Willow shakes her head and says, “Girl, you too high.” I laugh even harder.

            “No,” I gasp for air, “Actually, I’m not, and I never will be again. You wanna know why?” I take a deep breath. “Because I don’t need that shit, just like I don’t need the asshole that got me started on it.”

            Matt turns down the music and looks over his shoulder at me. “Is everything okay back there?” he asks.

            “It’d be a little more ‘okay’ if I hadn’t spent the last four months of my life being lied to and basically drugged,” I snapped.

            “This bitch is killin’ my vibe,” grumbles Kyle from the driver seat.

            “Fuck your vibe, Kyle. Stop this piece of shit car,” I demand. He pulls over.

            “Leigh, what are you doin’?” Willow asks, exasperated. “It’s two degrees outside.”

            I get out of the car and slam the door shut. Willow rolls my window down and yells, “Leigh!”     

            “I just remembered something: I don’t want to forget,” I say.

            “Forget what? How to get to your apartment which, by the way, is five miles away? Get back in the car.” I keep walking away. She yells something at Kyle and he pulls the car up next to me so that Willow can keep shouting at me. “Hey, dumbass, you’re gonna freeze out here.”

            “I need to make a call,” I say.

            “Well, you can make it in here.”

            “No, I can’t.”

            “Why not? Are you calling the mother ship to pick you up? Is that why you need to be alone?”

            “I’m calling Sloane.” I start to search my contacts.

            Willow’s face goes slack. She whispers something to Kyle and he rolls down his window. “Leigh,” he growls. “Don’t do this.”

            I find Sloane’s number and hit the call button. “Do what? What you never had the balls to do? You know, you’re a real shithead. You’re gonna marry this girl you cheated on for four months? What else did you lie to her about? Does she even know you smoke?” For the first time in my life, Kyle looks shaken. He comes to a jerky stop, like his foot slipped. “No? Alright, one more thing for us to chat about.” I hear the dial tone.

            “Leigh, please,” he begs. I keep walking and he taps the gas again. “I’m sorry.”

            “Save it for your fiancée,” I snap.

            Sloane answers the phone. “Hello?”

            “Hi, Sloane,” I sweetly say as I look over at Kyle.

            “Who is this?”

            “Ms. Cooking Class. I’ve got some things to say about your fiancée’s baking skills.”

           

 

            

 

 

 

The Voices

 

   The guilt clawed at my heart, as the fine rain fell on the fallen body of Fred. He had done nothing wrong, and didn’t deserve to be beaten, but the voices in my head would not leave me alone until it was done. He was once a friend but now I know his secret, and he would not hesitate to poison me if it kept me quiet. On the ground were the several Jolly Ranchers that he had tried to assassinate me with, but a part of me wondered if he had been trying to be nice all along. “Thats foolish boy.” Whispered 87. “No, wonder your mother left you. Your a waste of space, a failure. They’re trying to deceive you by being nice.”  I slowly trudged home, as the rain turned into a full fledge storm. I could tell something was wrong with the rain. It was black like oil, then turned bright red. Red like the blood that ran from Fred’s nose moments earlier. “But he deserved it, he was planning to kill you.” Soothed 87 “ You should have finished him with your grandpa’s gun when you had the chance.”  I hate 87. I really do. I had a normal life two years ago, before he started whispering in my ear, but ignorance is bliss, and as much as I hate to admit it, he is right most of the time. As I near my depressing home, I spot Pez, the back cat, following me again. I learned years ago to ignore him, since no one else saw him. Glad that I had survived another day, I enter my house

 

   Cigarette butts littered the stained yellow rug, and countless beer bottles were scattered all over the room. I quickly lock the door and pull the shades. Pez was licking himself in the corner, and I could see my uncle collapsed in the kitchen, a bottle in his hand. “Your uncle’s like this because of you. He was happy until you made your mother go away. Its all your fault.” Sneered 23. “If you had been a better son, gotten better grades, and scored that buzzer beater, your mother wouldn’t have decided to go to a better place.” I ignore her like I have for two years, and also toss away all the mail that my father had brought inside. He might not know yet, but he’ll find out sooner or later that its all an attempt to brainwash us into believing we were ill. “Your a waste of space, a mistake and nothing more. Your such a mistake that no one would miss you if you jumped off Billums Bridge.” As 43 started another tantrum in my head, I slowly head upstairs to my lair. My room is clean as always, since it helps me look for bugs that the government might have installed while I was at school. Today however, my head hurts so much that I lay down on my bed and stare at the aged Detroit Piston’s poster, the one that my mother had bought me on my 12th birthday. “You know, you should jump off a bridge while you still have the chance. It looks like fun doesn’t it? Anyway no one would miss you anyways.”  As 23 finally calms down, I get my TV remote from my night stand and turn to channel 3. Channel 3 is my friend, one of the only true friends I have left. Unlike Fred, I could always trust Channel 3. “Today, an armed pro Russian man, entered the U.S. embassy and attacked the American Ambassador to Ukraine. This took place in kiev, Ukraine, early this morning. The suspect is a fi………. They know what you did! Its only a matter of time before they find you!” Screamed 65. “They’ll going to make you pay for your crimes!”

You know this is a perfect time to jump off a bridge. Do it before they find you!”  43 argued. “No one will miss you.

They know what you did. You really blew it this time.” Said 65.

“Its all Fred’s fault you know. Don’t listen to them. They’ll not trying to help you like I am.” Whispered 87. “You got to make Fred pay for snitching on you!”  

“Don’t listen to him, just jump off the bridge and everything will be fine.” 43 yelled.

“Your a failure.” Jeered 91.

They continued to argue, and I felt like my head was being split open by a rusty wedge.

After about a horrific hour, it was clear 87 was the victor of the argument.

“It’s Fred’s fault they found out. You have to make him PAY!” Anger rushed into my body like a swarm of hungry locust. It erupted in my heart and spread to every inch of my body. But still, under all that anger, was a thin layer of guilt. I knew the anger was illogical, and that Fred had done nothing wrong, but neverless I was still angry. I remember the years we had been friends. We had always been on the same basketball team, hanging out together after school, and standing up for each other whenever there was trouble. He had always been my best friend, and for a mere second, I wondered if 87 was wrong. A small part of me, a part of me that wasn’t a number started talking right at that moment. “He’s your friend, Leo. You’re schizophrenic, you have to stop living in denial. Take the medication, it helps, it always does. You can lead a normal life and move on. Your mother was schizophrenic too, and she lived a normal life. She was just fine until she stopped taking her meds. She would be fine if she had taken the meds. Fred had nothing to do with your mother’s death.” I knew all this was true in the back of my mind, but the anger overwhelmed both the guilt and the voice a hundred to one. I tried to calm myself, but all the effort was in vain. I was angry, and honestly, I didn’t care if Fred was innocent. Someone had to pay, and it might as well be Fred.

 

   I woke up in my bed just before the dawn broke. It was essential that I wake up early on this historic day. “You're making history.” Said 87. “After you eliminate Fred, you can tell the world his secret. The secret he told you never to tell. You’ll be famous, and the world will remember your name for freeing the world from the evil that is Fred.”  Even through all of the chanting, I managed to to open the box of meds that were on my nightstand. They were all green and yellow, and did not stay still for a second. They swirled and popped, and looked utterly disgusting.  “It’s all in your mind.” Said the voice. “It’ll help you recover.

POISON!” Yelled 109. “THEY'RE TRYING TO POISON YOU! YOUR OWN MOTHER WAS KILLED AFTER SHE TOOK THOSE HORRID PILLS! I throw the pills at the wall and hurry downstairs. My uncle had left for work, and it wasn’t long before I opened the closet door with the safe in it. The code was my mother’s birthday, and I easily get my grandfather’s gun from inside the safe. Pez followed me out of the house, as I carefully left the house. I knew they were watching me. They always watch. I could hear police sirens in the distance, but I was smart enough to know this was all in my head. Those were the same sirens from when my mother hanged herself, about two years ago. I saw several hot air balloons in the sunny sky, but those were also mere illusions in my mind. They shook and swirled around, as if they were trying to mock me. They happily floated around in circles, amused by my misery. My mind was surprisingly clear, and I knew I was going to kill my best friend. The clouds danced and an audience of crows had gathered to observe to murder of Fred Howard committed by Leo Able. I hated myself, but the voice would not leave me alone till Fred Howard was six foot under. 87 now controlled my life. I saw Fed walking down the street, at exactly 6:50 in the mornin. I open fired on him, and all six bullets entered the body. I was two meters away.

   Nothing happened after I fired my shots, for at least the first minute or so. Maybe no one was watching me, but that didn’t matter any more. I could smell hot dogs cooking, and decided it was time for me to eat some breakfast. I turned the corner and walked up to a Burger King. I knew those hot dogs weren’t real. I walked into Burger king and tried to be friendly and waved to the cashier. Everything was in a haze, and I realized that the hand I waved was also the hand with the gun in it. The cashier screamed, and I realized that Fred’s blood was on my clothes. I staggered and fell down on a table, and noticed that there were tears in my eyes. I didn’t mean to kill him, and I knew deep that he loved and cared for me. I knew he was a true friend, but killing him was the only way I knew how to quiet the voices.  Five minutes later, I was in the back of a cop car riding to the city jail. Some people asked me if I regretted what I did. I sure did, but al least it shut the voices up……….

 

At least for the time being.   

 

 

Author’s Notes.

   Leo voices could have been quieted for good if he had taken the medication like he was suppose to. No one knows exactly what causes schizophrenia, but we do know that genetics play a role in it. Schizophrenia is harder to treat in adult or older patients, because they have the legal right to refuse medical help if they want to. As you can see, a person with schizophrenia often does not trusts others as easily, and beliefs that their medications are poisoned is common in the  schizophrenic community. Not taking the medications can lead to depression, as seen above. Schizophrenics also often believe others think they are stupid and unimportant. Schizophrenia is very real and results in people hallucinations, hearing things, distrusting others, hearing voices in their head, etc. However, schizophrenics can still live a good and happy life, and become helpful members of society if they take their given medications and receive support from their loved ones.

Hope

 

 

So many emotions rush through my head at once I can’t focus on anything. I eventually pull my car over and just cry. My phone is buzzing and ringing off the hook. I take it and chuck it out the window.  I don’t care. Why should I? Nothing seems to matter to me anymore. Everything I once knew is gone. Thrown out the window, just like my phone. What am I gonna do?  That same question pulses through my mind, like waves rushing in to shore, and then receding. And in the time between each wave, fifty more thoughts come tumbling over each other. What am I gonna do? 

***

“You know, Ky, you don’t have to hold Cody as if he’s so fragile, you won’t break him.” My dad told me as I held my new baby brother for the first time. 

“But he won’t stop crying! I can’t make him stop! Please help me.” I said. I was only seven at the time, and I was still a little iffy on the whole “little brother” idea. 

“Hold him closer and tighter, this is your new little brother.” My dad said. “He’s gonna look up to you when he gets older. Do you think you can be a good big sister and be a good role model?”  He could tell that I wasn’t to thrilled about sharing the household with a sibling. I had liked being the only child, getting all the attention. 

“…Yes.” I said reluctantly. 

“Good! You’ll be a great big sister, Kylie.”

***

 

I don’t know how to think straight. I never thought this would happen to our family. Cody is only nine! He can’t grow up without his father! He will barely remember him. The thought of that shatters my already broken heart. I break down and cry. My dad didn’t deserve this. This is all wrong. Its not supposed to work this way. My dad is supposed to die after both Cody and I have gotten married and after we’ve each had kids. He’s supposed to die a peaceful, quick death in his sleep from old age, after he had lived his life, and watched his grandchildren grow. I’m only sixteen and I just started driving! Cody hasn’t even graduated elementary school! My dad was supposed to be here for this! Then all of a sudden I strop crying. Its like I have cried out my last tear. I have a horrible knot in my throat telling me to cry, but nothing comes out. Like I am dry heaving, in a crying sense. Now I am just angry. I am angry at everything. Furious! I feel like shaking and screaming. My body doesn’t know how to contain, or control my emotions anymore. I just scream, and scream, and then I just sit, cold, and emotionless.

***

“Remember, what is the key to driving in bad weather?” my dad said in a surprisingly steady voice, knowing that I was driving him in a car for the first time. 

“Drive slowly.” I said.

He had been telling me that my whole life, it was like it was engraved in my brain. I would have sounded sarcastic and bored saying that any other day, as I had for many years before, but not today. Today, I was exited. Today, I was driving. Growing up in Potomac, Maryland, I knew snow, and I knew how to drive in it. I was ready for this. “Ready, Dad?”

“Ready, Ky.”

***

 I sit there, trapped in a dull, motionless state. I don’t know what to feel. I can’t cry, I can’t speak, I can’t do anything. I knew he was sick, and I knew he was going to die, we all did, but this all seems so unreal still. My dad is dead. Is the only thought running through my head. Its like my ears hear it, and my brain knows it, but my heart doesn’t believe it. I find my self putting the keys back into the ignition, and turning on the car. I just need to get out of here. I get out of the car and pick up my phone that was laying on the soggy ground. I have forty missed calls and thirty-seven unread texts. I know all of them would be the same sympathetic message. For the first time in my life, I actually don’t care about what is on my phone, or who called. I throw it in the back seat and hit the gas pedal. I just drive. I want to go as far away as I can. I don’t want to talk to anybody, they don’t understand. No one does. 

***

“Daddy, what does this say?” I pointed to a tattoo on my dad’s inner-forearm 

“It says ‘hope’ sweety.” It was just a thin-printed, black-ink tattoo. Very simple. 

‘Why do you have that, Daddy?” 

“To remind me that there is always hope, even in the darkest times, you must always have hope. Remember that.” 

“Okay, Daddy” 

I was only six so I was very naïve. Now that I’m older I know that the real reason he has that tattoo is because he lost a bet in high school, so he had to get a tattoo. Still, it is a good message, the whole “hope” idea. I don’t have any hope right now. What is there to hope about? It’s not like he’s coming back to life. There is nothing to hope for. 

My dad was kind of a burn out in high school, but that made him one of the most influential men I knew. He totally turned his life around after high school. He got into law school, and worked at a great firm. Although, he still had some of his “hippy” self in him. He would always wear his tangly hair in a man bun, and he had a little soul-patch. He looked very rugged and grungy. He had a little bit of a Johny Depp vibe going for him. The thought of that cracks the smallest twitch of a smile on my face, but then it disappears as fast as it had come. I drive on. 

***

“Come on guys! Lets go outside! Look how beautiful it is out there!” my mom said. It was a very sunny day in August. Maryland is particularly pretty in the summer. All of the trees are full of color, and the flowers are in bloom. The whole state fills with lush beauty. I will never forget that day. When we all just went outside and hung out. Nothing extraordinary happened. It was just a very simple day. I don’t know why, but it really stuck with me. We were all just happy. We didn’t have to worry about anything. We were so all care-free.

“Push me, sissy!” Cody yelled. He was five, and happier than ever. That day I taught him how to “pump” on a swing so that he could push him self. I’ll never forget his little legs swinging uncontrollably, flailing all over the place while trying to build up some momentum, his dirty blonde hair sticking out at different angles. I smiled, my mom laughed. Then we all sat there in the grass. My mom brought dinner out side and we had an evening picnic in our backyard. 

“You know, there’s a great saying the movie The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.” My dad says. “It says ‘Everything is always good in the end, so if it is not good, then it is not yet the end.’ Or something like that.”

“That was pretty random, dad” I say sarcastically. He laughs. 

“I just thought it fit the mood.” He says. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time, but I do now. That was the day that he and my mom found out about his diagnosis.  

I want to go back to that place. With everybody there, feeling happy, with nothing to worry about.

That doesn’t seem so possible right now.  

I pull over and stop the car again. Now I am in the middle of Baltimore. I remember something my dad told me a long time ago 

“When you get pushed down you get back up. Why? Because you have to. You have to keep going no matter what. You just keep getting right back up. You might not be able to get up on your own, you might need someone to help you up, but you get up.”

 

He’s right. I have to get up. I can’t let this be the end of me too. My dad wouldn’t want that. He would want me to be happy. Death is just a part of life, we should celebrate his life, not morn his death. He would want that. He wouldn’t want a sad funeral, he would want a big party with all of his friends and family there, to tell funny stories about him, and eat lots of food. That’s the kind of man he was. A happy man. A hopeful man. 

 

 

Last night my mom asked me to get my sister ready. I casually agreed not realizing what I had gotten myself into. Agreeing to take care of my sister for even an hour is a death sentence.

 

“Tata! Shoes!” My little sister, Hanna, exclaims while pointing down to her fresh out of the box Minnie Mouse shoes with pink bows scattered across the lining.

 

“Okay, but you have to sit down first.” I said this and to my surprise, she instantly sat down. This came as a surprise because ever since she turned two, she decided to take directions from everyone but me. I tell her to put something down, she ignores. My mom tells her to put something down, she listens. My friend asks her to open her mouth, its wide open before she can finish her sentence. I ask her to open her mouth; she covers it with her hand.  I’m convinced she has a hearing problem. "Good job!" I say while slightly applauding “So, you grab the bunny ears and wrap them around themselves, put one through the bridge and pull. Got it?" She gives me a slight nod of the head, indicating she does not. “Okay, I’ll help you on this shoe too." I then grab the shoe lasses and repeat the directions. “Grab the bunny ears and wrap them around themselves, put one through the bridge and pull."

 

“Tank you Tata." She said merrily and pranced away.

 

"Mari, why is your sister strutting down the hall?" My mother asked curiously.

 

"I tied her new shoes." I responded looking over to see the baby trying to place a bow in her hair. “You need help Hanna?"

 

"Nope" she responded with sass

 

"You sure?" I asked already knowing the answer that follows

 

“Nope”

 

“Okay I'll be in the bathroom if you need anything.” I tell her while walking into our fish themed bathroom.

 

“Yes”

 

I walked away into my bathroom getting ready. Five minutes into my routine and of course while I'm brushing my teeth, I hear a knock close to the bottom of my door.

 

"Tata, bow!" Hanna called out trying to get the bow that does not match her outfit into her hair.

 

“Okay, but you have to get your pink Minnie bow.” I say while half spitting half slobbering.

 

“Okay!” She yells, and like that I hear the pitter patter of her feet scurrying off into her room then heard the door slam shut. I could get used to this listening thing.

 

“Okay, that will give me about five minutes to finish brushing my teeth.” I say to myself. Then I heard the creak of the door opening, and as the footsteps get closer, I brush faster.

 

“Tata! Open you door! Bow!” She yells from the other side of the door. When I open it, I see her with a pink Minnie mouse bow, and untied shoe lasses.

 

“What happened?” I ask getting down to her eye level and pointing down to her shoes. She shrugs. Then I grab her lasses and start repeating the bunny ear rhyme from five minutes ago. “You grab the bunny ears…” She cuts me off and grabs ahold of the lasses.

 

“Put bunny ears under bridge then pull!” Her classes are now a huge knot.

 

“Take your shoes off so I can fix it.” She does as told. Three for three.

 

As I untangle the knot, out of the corner of my eye, I see her get up, back away slowly and sprint to her room.

 

When I finish with the knot, I set the shoe on the counter and head to my mother’s room.

 

“Hey, mom. Good morning. How are you?” I ask while giving her a kiss on the cheek and quick hug.

 

“I’m good. Are you girls ready?” She asks while she goes back to multi-tasking on her makeup and breakfast.

 

“Well the baby and I still have to eat, and do my hair, “I say and quickly put my hair up into the usual ponytail. “Now only eat breakfast.”

 

“Were the baby? “She asks while concentrating on her perfect eyeliner.

 

“In her room, playing quietly.” I respond as I put on my socks.

 

“What? In her room quietly?” She says completely turned towards me dragging out the word quietly.

 

“Yes.” I respond knowing something was wrong. Like that my mom was out of the room sprinting down the hallways and opens Hanna’s room only to find her sitting in a big pile of shoes tangled.

 

“I tie the shoes!” She exclaims with a big smile on her face.

 

“Yeah. We will clean up this mess tonight. For now just get some shoes with Velcro on her, and put her in the car.” My mom says while turning to go back to her room.

 

“Okay, But we still have to eat breakfast. “I say while untangling the child from the string that’s attached itself onto her ponytail.

 

“Alright, make a foster strudel for you and three mini pancakes from the freezer for the baby. Hurry up!” She says and leaves into her room.

 

“Okay!” I yell out after her.

 

“Tata, food!” the baby yells out.

 

“You are getting pancakes.” I say while searching the cold freezer for mini pancakes.

 

“I like a pancakes.” she says with incorrect grammar.

 

“I know you do.” I respond while putting in the time for the pancakes to defrost. Then I remember that I have to eat too, and decide to eat a banana and drink a glass of milk.

 

“Tata. Bow!” Hanna tells me shoving her body into my shin.

 

“Hanna! Wait one moment.” I continue drinking my milk.

 

“Tata!” She yells and shoves her body at me at me, but this time with more force and knocking my glass out of my hand.

 

“Hanna!” I exclaim and pick her up worried that she would get glass into her skin and cut herself.

 

“What happened? “My mom asks expecting the worst.

 

“The baby knocked the glass out of my hands and spilled the milk everywhere.” I say as I dust off any possible pieces of glass attached on her.

 

“Okay, give her to me and you sweep the floor.” she tells me while caring the baby to her room to change her clothes.

 

“Okay. I will” I tell her and start sweeping before she yells at me.

 

After I have already finished sweeping, and we are on our way to school, I remember something that might be the end of my life.

 

“Um, mom.” I say hopping she does not get mad.

 

“Yes Marilyn?” she asks with a Spanish accent.

 

“I don’t know if there is school today.” I tell her looking outside seeing my school dark with no lights on from a distance.

 

“Oh, really?” she asks me looking right at me.

 

“Yea, I totally forgot. I’m so sorry.” I say hoping not to get in major trouble.

 

 

“Give me your phone, laptop, no T.V for two weeks, and no more seeing friends until further notice.” she says with her hand outstretched in front of my face so I can give her my phone. She then takes a sharp U-turn, and before I know it I’m at home taking care of my sister and my mom is working in the home office with no kids.

I looked at the brown mini cooper pulled over beside me and realized it was my friend, Kelly. “Hey Willow. You need a ride home?” she asked as I was still surprised.

 

     “Actually yeah. That would be nice. My mom’s car broke down and my dad’s in a meeting. I do not want to ride the bus.” I hopped in the passenger’s seat and closed the door. I haven’t been in Kelly’s new car since she had gotten it for her seventeenth birthday from her stepdad. I observed the vehicle with interest. The seats were a burgundy color and the top was convertible. The car still had a new smell to it. Kelly was one of the few people to have a car in the school. Most everyone either rode the bus, had their parents pick them up, or walked home. “So, how do like this car?” I asked her.

 

     “It’s pretty great. I get to drive around anywhere without begging my parents to take me. It’s so useful. And the best part is that I get to put my music as loud as I want,” she started, “and sing along without my mom’s ears bleeding!”

 

     “Lucky. I wish I had a car.”

 

     “Well, maybe you should work to get one. I mean, my stepdad didn’t just give it to me for fun. I had to work my ass off to get straight A’s. But the reward is pretty awesome.” My thoughts swirled trying to mash together. Work? Had I really not thought of that before? But what would I work as? I was still too young to work with my dad in his office as an intern. And I wasn’t going to go mow people’s lawns.

 

     The rest of the car ride was silent. Kelly turned up the music and started singing with it. Thankfully, it was louder than her. But I couldn’t stop thinking about getting a car. I wouldn’t have to car pool with my ten year old brother and his friend anymore. Sometimes my brother begged my mom to sit in the front seat and I would have to sit with his friend in the back. Once I watched him dig for gold in his nose and I almost threw up that I told my mom to stop the car. A car was mandatory in my life. I couldn’t get around with ten year old’s singing Frozen songs every morning.

 

     We arrived at my house and I quickly left with a bye and thank you. I rushed through my door  almost tripping over my little brother, since he had apparently just arrived as well. My mom was setting her bag down on the dining room table. “Mom! Mom, how old were you when you got your first car?” I babbled, out of breath. My mom looked up at me sharply.

     “Hi to you, too, sweets. Oh, your day was great? That’s awesome. Mine was pretty good too. Thanks for asking,” she said overly sarcastically. I was about to speak before she cut me off, “First car, huh? I think I was eighteen.”

 

     “Well, I was thinking about getting one.”

 

     “Oh yeah? With what money?”

 

     “I would work, of course. The thing is that I don’t know what to work as to get money for a car.”

 

     “Willow working? Hah. Nice, but April 1st is in two months,” my little brother commented.

 

     “Jacob, I think that it’s a great idea. Willow would learn a lot of responsibility,” she told him and then turned back to me. “You actually reminded me that I have a little surprise for you related to working.” My eyes widened with interest. “So, last week I found out that your old babysitter moved down the street. Do you remember her? Her name was Ivy.”

 

     “Nope.”

 

     “Well, anyway, I ran into her at the home department store while I was looking for new spoons. I chatted and caught up with her for a while. She has four kids now! Isn’t that crazy? I still remember when she made you stop sucking your thumb. I don’t know how she did it, but whatever she did, it worked. Anyway, she was telling me about her kids and that she had barely any free time. I mean imagine having all those kids.”

 

     “Torture. Ok, so when’s the job part of the story coming?” I asked impatiently.

 

     “Soon. So, as I was saying, I felt bad and offered her for you to be her kids’ babysitter!” she revealed excitedly. Those words drained all the hope that I had for getting a car. That was the last job I wanted.

 

     “Mom, you know I don’t like dealing with kids. And there are four of them! You’d be putting me on a suicide mission.”

 

    “Well, maybe the price she’s offering each evening might convince you. It’s sixty-five dollars per night. Plus, I already offered and it would be terrible to tell her that you don’t want to.”

 

     My brain focused on the amount of money my mom told me I would get, just for babysitting. “Sixty-five dollars? Wow, how hard is it to handle those kids?”

 

     “Go do the math for a car.” I processed everything for a few minutes as my mom started to help Jacob with his homework. Sixty-five dollars once a week wasn’t even close enough for a car. Maybe my mom was tricking me so that I would work.

 

     “And that’s enough money for a car? Before the summer?” I questioned curiously. That would be impossible. A mini cooper costs about twenty thousand dollars. Sixty-five wasn’t going to cut it.

 

     “Well, you’ll pay with your babysitting money and I’ll pay the rest. You won’t have a lot, so the car will be a gift for working hard. Deal?” I was seriously going to get a car. It was finally happening. I had to thank Kelly for this clear idea that I was too blind to see. I nodded at my mom and sprinted to my room to start calculating how much money I would have before summer started.

 

     “Ok, if I start next week, it’ll be nine weeks. So that’ll be about five-hundred and eighty-five dollars. That’s it? Oh, maybe there could be some extra days that I could work. Like Saturday or Sunday. But I don’t want my mom to pay that much money. I would feel bad. How much is a used car?” I thought aloud. This car situation was already driving me crazy. “I could get a used car. It’s my first car anyway, so what do I care? It’s probably about ten thousand dollars. That’s better than twenty.” I continued planning. That’s what I was going to do. I was going to get a used car. It was actually a really good idea. I ran back to my mom and told her. She obviously agreed with me very quickly. So that was that. I needed to get started as soon as possible.

 

     That Friday after school, I was excited, but annoyed. Excited because I was getting money and annoyed because I had to babysit a bunch of annoying kids.

 

     “So guess what? Don’t answer that. I took your advice and I’m going to get money and then a car!” I said proudly as I got into Kelly’s mini. She was once again taking me home.

 

     “Oh my god! That’s great! So what are you working as?” Kelly asked. My excitement died down. I’d forgotten I actually had to work to get my money.

 

     “Oh. My mom decided to have the brilliant idea to make me a babysitter!” I announced with a crazy amount of sarcastic happiness. Kelly started laughing hysterically, then looked at my death stare and immediately stopped.

 

     “I’ll pray for you.”

 

     When Kelly arrived at my house, I quickly ran inside and changed into sweatpants. My mom walked me to the Fays at eight. As we were walking, she gave me advice, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I was thinking about what food they had in their fridge, so that I could raid it once the kids went to sleep.

 

     Once we got to a two-story yellow house with vines grasping to the walls, we walked to the door and knocked. The door flew open and two little girls stood at the entrance with curious faces. They looked about nine years old and they were obviously identical twins.

 

     “Mom! There’s a lady with a homeless person at our door!” one of them screamed. The other pushed her sister away.

 

     “Sorry for my sister. She’s a little... mean. Are you the one that is going to be our babysitter?” the clearly more adorable one said. I nodded. A woman came from behind and I guessed that it was Ivy, their mother. She was wiping her hands on a rag.

 

     “Oh! I didn’t even hear the door!” she said. “Oh my goodness! You have grown up so much!” she said to me thrilled as she took me in for a hug. “And Kassy! How are you? Isn’t it crazy how we’re already at the point where your daughter, who I used to babysit, is taking care of my children? She grew up so much,” she continued, this time talking to my mom. And again the she grew up so fast and wow she looks so much older went on and on. I was seventeen. I think I had enough of that bullcrap. I was really tempted to tell her that she looked so much older too, but she was the one giving me my money for a car. Better not risk it.

 

     My mom and Ivy talked inside while I was standing in the living room awkwardly. Ivy and her husband were going out on a date. I saw the twins in the corner of my eye walking into a room that was probably their own. The evil one had an evil look on her face. I guess that was just the way she looked: evil. I had a bad feeling about her. The two of them looked so much alike. I could tell them apart, though, because one had a glowing aura around her while the other had devil horns and a pitch fork.

 

     “So, Willow. Just make yourself at home. The kids just ate, so they’re good. Oh! Their bed time is at 9:30 and the latest 10:00. Wait? Have you met the other kids? There are two more of them,” Ivy informed me. I shook my head and followed her as she brought me down a long hallway to a closed door. The door had black skulls and a Do Not Enter sign. “Don’t be afraid of the door. He tries to make himself seem tough.” She knocked and the door slowly opened. A boy that was probably in his pre-teens stood looking at me. He had black hair cut in the shape of a bowl and freckles covered his face. His looks were as far from what he wanted me to think from his door.

 

     “Hi. I’m Willow. I’m your new babysitter,” I introduced myself. At the word babysitter, his head turned to his mom sharply.

 

     “What?! A babysitter? I’m too old to have a babysitter! This is so unfair! This can’t be happening! My life is over! Over!” he shouted as he slammed the door. I almost wanted to laugh at how much he sounded like a thirteen year old girl.

 

     “Sorry about him. He thinks he’s eighteen or something. He’s only eleven. So anyway, that was Blake. You won’t have to worry about him. He stays in his man cave the whole time playing video games. Just make sure he doesn’t go to sleep too late,” Ivy mentioned.  We continued through the hallway and turned right into a room. The walls had a lot of decorations that a little kid must have done with finger paint. A little boy was in the middle of the room with a piece of paper filled with even more finger paintings. “So, this little guy is Finn. He’s only five and already an artist. Aren’t his paintings great?” she began. I nodded and looked around the room. I was surprised that Ivy allowed her kid to paint on the walls.

 

     “Finn, say hi to Willow. She’s going to be your babysitter.”

 

     Finn turned around and looked at me. “Hi, Pillow.”

 

     “Oh silly, it’s Willow,” Ivy corrected him. She turned back to me and giggled. “Such a cutie.” I smiled unreassuringly.

    

    The father finally finished getting ready and left with Ivy. My mom left at the same time as them and wished me good luck. The kids were all gathered in the living room watching as their parents departed. I looked at my mom leave me with a house full of kids. “So, what are you guys going to do?” I asked them politely.

 

     “Get rid of you,” Blake said with his arms crossed. My mouth fell open with how shocked I was. This kid was a handful. “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

 

     “Oh really? I don’t think so. In the state of Florida, it’s illegal to stay home alone at your age. So, I wouldn’t even try to-”

 

     “What a miserable life you have,” he suddenly said. “Taking care of a bunch of kids. Especially on a Friday. Don’t you go to parties or are you just not invited?” My face turned red with anger. Boy did I want to flush his eleven year old face down the toilet. The twins were interested on what I was going to say next.

    

     “First of all, parties are overrated these days. That really shows how much you have to learn in life, like politeness, and that you are still a little boy. Second, you still have a girl’s voice. So, I think you should go do your video games and pout in your boy cave,” I snapped back.

    

     All the kids suddenly were intrigued with this argument. I hoped that it wouldn’t last longer than that, but maybe I underestimated his protest. “If you don’t leave, I’ll call my gang on you!”

 

“You have a gang?” I laughed. “What do you guys do? Sell silly bands to under aged kids?” I started laughing so hard. My hysterical laughing made Finn laugh, which made the twins laugh. Blake felt humiliated and stormed back to his room.

 

     “Oh and you have to go to bed at eleven!” I added.

 

     “And what makes you think I’ll listen to you?!” he shouted from his room.

 

     “Because if you don’t I’ll find your gang and tell them that you have a babysitter!” I yelled back at him. He was suddenly quiet and I was proud of my work. The twins and Finn still were in the living room.

 

     “Can you play Barbie with us?” the cute twin said. I nodded and followed them to their room. The walls were pink, the curtains were pink- everything in their room was pink. It almost blinded me. “You get her,” Olivia told me as she handed me a Barbie doll with strawberry blonde hair. Stella, the evil one, stood in front of me with her Barbie. She looked at me with a smirk. Then, all of a sudden, she ripped off the Barbie doll’s head.

 

     She started laughing, clearly trying to freak me out, but all I said was, “That’s just a waste of money,” and turned back to Olivia. Stella immediately stopped and came over to us. She hovered over me and suddenly pulled out the middle finger. I stood up, shocked, and looked down at her. “Don’t ever do that again. That’s not a nice finger.” She took both hands and pulled out both middle fingers. I decided that just telling her wasn’t going to do anything, so I had to scare her myself. “You don’t want to mess with me.”

 

     “I’m not scared of you. You’re just a hobo babysitter,” she laughed while putting her hands on her hips. It was like she was looking for an argument.

 

     “Oh really? Have you ever seen the movie Nanny McPhee?”

 

     “Yeah. It’s so dumb.” She took another Barbie and an orange sharpie that was laying on the floor. “I think this Barbie needs a little tan.” She started coloring the Barbie doll. She put that one down and picked up the first Barbie’s head that she tore off. I ignored her and continued with my plan.

 

     “Really? Well, that’s funny, because Nanny McPhee is my great-great-grandmother.”

 

     “You’re lying. Nanny McPhee isn’t real. She stupid and ugly. I guess it runs in the family,” she said looking up from the head she just snatched from the ground.

 

     “Oh well I wouldn’t say something like that in front of me, since I’m her great-great-granddaughter. You don’t have to believe me, but isn’t it just a coincidence how your mom found me so suddenly? And how I scared your brother off like that? Your mom says that nobody scares your brother off,” I lied. “I am Nanny McPhee’s great-great-granddaughter. Boo,” I finished. She stood there staring at me. I had probably failed miserably at scaring her. But then, all of a sudden, she dropped the doll’s head on the floor and it rolled to me. I picked it up and told her one last thing, “I use doll’s heads to control little mischievous girls like you.” She definitely was scared then. Her face was priceless. Her eyes widened like she saw a ghost and her mouth grew smaller. I couldn’t believe she actually fell for it.

 

     Olivia looked at me scared as well, but I didn’t want to scare her. “Don’t worry, Olivia. You’re so sweet and kind that I would never control you with a Barbie’s head. Just make sure that your sister goes to bed at the curfew and tell her if she doesn’t, that my great-great-grandmother will come visit her tonight with a bunch of her dollies’ heads. Ok?” I think I failed at not scaring her, but it definitely freaked Stella out. “It’s actually time to go to bed soon. It’s nine thirty. You have thirty minutes to play and then lights out.” The girls listened and were playing in no time. Stella was still in shock, but played with her sister anyway. The person that I needed to get to bed was Finn. “Oh crap! Finn! I left a toddler by himself!” I realized while I ran to the living room. I arrived just in time to find Finn with his hands full of red paint. He was about to touch the light blue couch, but I stopped him right before a disaster happened. “Hey Finn! No, no, no! Don’t put those hands on the couch,” I told him slowly. He giggled at me and when he started walking over, he tripped over a single, forgotten shoe on the left side of the room. His hands grabbed onto the flat, perfectly white wall to stabilize himself. The red paint smeared all over the left wall. He looked at what he had created.

 

     “I like this pretty painting. My mommy’s going to be proud!” he smiled. I stood there speechless, not sure what to say to him. 

 

     “Finn. That’s not good. You can’t paint on these walls,” I sighed.

 

     “Whoops. Well, I made a other art gallergy inside the kitchen. It’s pretty!” I gasped and ran to the kitchen to see the terrible damage. Seeing it was like ripping off a bandaid. Now, I knew that the whole night I would be scrubbing finger paint off the walls. I saw Finn come next to me grinning. He then frowned when he saw my terrified face.

 

     “What’s the matter Pillow? You don’t like the color?” I started biting my nails.

 

     “Finn. It’s very pretty, but you can’t paint every wall in the house. Don’t ever do it again. Your mommy wouldn’t be too happy,” I tried to say nicely. He nodded and looked down. I tried to cheer him up. “But hey at least you made two very great paintings!” He smiled and took my hand. “Ok, I think it’s time for you to go to bed now. You can dream about your next great painting that you’ll do on your wall.”

 

     I walked him to his room and tucked him in his covers. Then the twins went to bed without any problem. I turned the lights off in Blake’s room and he didn’t complain. I went to the living room, found a sponge in the sink, and started rubbing the kitchen walls. My first Friday with the Fays wasn’t a complete disaster, but I did learn something important. Never leave a kid alone with finger paint and his fingers. I accomplished day one, Nanny McPhee great-great-granddaughter style.

Bitter Sweet

The snow poured down. I sat their clutching Samuel. Samuel was my trombone, look I’m not weird, I’m just a band geek, but anyways. We had been driving to the Colts stadium for the Band of America finals. The bus had gotten a flat tire. Frodo had went to get a new one. Frodo was our band director, Macy and I called him that because of his poofy hair, it’s a Lord of the Rings reference, even though I’ve never seen Lord of the Rings, or the Hobbit. We had a lot of other nicknames for him, curly fry, Baggins, and lots more. His real name was Mr. Yandel, he was pretty cool, a great director. He has brown, really curly hair, blue eyes, and a huge nose; still wasn’t bigger than my dad’s. Macy was sitting next to me, she was my best friend. She had brown eyes and dirty blond hair. She played oboe and was pretty great at it. It was senior year and we were finally going to the finals, and this happens. I sighed. I thought back to 7^th grade when I picked on Mr. Yandel’s driving, he didn’t put his blinker on once when getting onto the highway, I made jokes about it but this, he freaking hit a curve, blew our tire and now the bus was being devoured by snow…. Fun! It wasn’t his fault thought, the snow was so high it looked like the curb was part of the road, I watched him driving because honestly I wouldn’t trust a 27 year old man with 22 student on a noisy school bus. I sighed again.

            “It will be alright, Frodo should be back soon.” Macy said looking up from her phone.

            “Yeah, but it has snowed so much we probably can’t even find the tires.” I said as I looked at the clock on her phone, “Plus it’s almost midnight and the competition is tomorrow and we aren’t even in Indiana.”

            “No one else seems to care much, I understand though, this is our last chance to have a huge band competition before me move off to college.” She sighed “I can’t believe this is our last chance and it’s ruined.”

            We looked out the window. I closed my eyes. I put my face against the window. It was as cold as ice. I imagined I was at home with Slick, riding through the snow. I opened my eyes and stood up.

            “Where are you going?” Macy asked.

            “If we are going to freeze our butts off we might as well have fun doing it, plus maybe we can find a shop with heat, and maybe some hot chocolate.” I said.

            “Can I come?”

            “Sure, let’s go.”

            We hopped out of the bus and started walking. I could only hear the sound of our feet crunching through the snow. Macy walked ahead of me so I leaned down and grabbed a handful of snow. I shaped into a ball and fired it at her back.

            “Hey!” she screamed.

            “I said we should freeze while having fun so…” I grabbed another ball and threw it at her.

            “You are going down!” she said grabbing a snow ball and throwing it. It brushed my arm slightly but ended up landed about four feet behind me.

            “At least it had enough power, it just needs better aim, like this.” I said as I pegged her with snowball.

            “Let me try again.” She said. She picked up a huge amount of snow and threw it at me, it hit me in the stomach, “Take that!”

            We had a snowball fight, laughing and giggling for a while. Then we saw Mr. Yandel walking back with stuff to fix the bus.

            “Hey, what are you troublemakers doing?” he asked laughing.

            “What do you think?” I asked as me and Macy both pegged him with a snowball.

            “Have you ever heard you aren’t supposed to hit a guy with glasses?” he said as he put down the stuff down and threw a snowball at us.

            “Ha, do you think you can fix the bus?” Macy asked.

            “Well, not until this storm clears up. I can’t even find the tires. We don’t have anywhere to stay.” He said.

            “Well, can’t we just stay in the bus? Everyone else is already sleeping, it’s warm in there but we were going to get hot chocolate, there’s no way I can sleep now. Do you want to come with us?”

            “Sure, there’s no way we can do anything else so let’s go.” He said smiling.

            We walked down the streets, we passed about five blocks of shops, and all were closed.

            “Jeez, why is everyone afraid of a little snow?” I mumbled.

            “Well you saw how Georgia reacted to all the past snow storms, I mean remember back in 6^th grade when people were stranded?” Macy said.

            “Yeah but we are in the North, they should be equipped for this stuff.”

            “They have no need to plow it off until the morning though. Plus coffee shops aren’t usually open at 2 am.” Yandel said.

            “I guess” I said frowning.

            We walked about three more blocks then we finally saw a little coffee shop.

            “Finally!” Macy yelled.

            We walked into the shop. I suddenly realized how cold I was.

            “Can we have three hot chocolates please?” I asked smiling.

            “Sure thing. We are about to close up, but take your time, But if you don’t mind me askin’, What are you kids doing roaming the streets this late at night, shouldn’t you kids be in a warm house, with your family, sleeping?” the coffee shop owner asked. He had a big grey beard and warming brown eyes.

            I thought about how he said kids and sort of laughed, I remembered the first time I saw Mr. Yandel, it was a nice warm day in the summer. There was an optional trip to White Water. My friend, Audrey had slept over the night before so we didn’t go on the bus with everyone else. We got in the park before the rest of the school. When they came in we were sitting on a bench facing the gates. We were examining everyone to see the new kids. There was curly haired kid. I remember groaning and saying “Crap there’s a new nerdy kid in 8^th grade.” Then about a minute later he came over and said “Hi, I’m your new band director, Mr. Yandel.” I felt so bad.

“Well you see, we were going to the band competition at the Colts stadium, it’s the finals, but our bus got a flat. We are stuck here for the night. The rest of the band is asleep on the bus seven blocks down not knowing about any of this, but why wake them?” I said trying to sound happy, even though I was really put out.

            “You folks can stay here, if you would like.” He said smiling.

            “Oh that’s so kind, thank you so much.” Macy said smiling.

            “Sure thing, I trust if I leave you all here you won’t rob the place, it’s a small town so we oughta trust each other. You can help yourself to anything in the morning. Here is your hot chocolates.” The man said.

            He handed us the hot chocolate. I took a sip and finally felt warmth. It felt like I had been unfrozen from being frozen for a million years.

            “Good night, and good luck.” The man said smiling as he walked out the door.

            We watched as he opened his car door and started the engine. He waved at us and we waved back. He then got in the car, shut the door, and drove away.

            “What a nice guy.” Yandel said smiling.

            “Yeah, this hot chocolate is great.” I said smiling.

            “Do you think they are ok on the bus, it’s snowing pretty hard?” Macy asked.

            “I left a note before we left.” Yandel said.

            “Ok” we both said relieved.

            “What should we do?” I asked frowning.

            “We could sleep a little.” Macy suggested.

            “No, I can’t sleep.” I sighed.

            We were silent for a while. I looked out the window at the falling snow. I wondered if the others were ok. Two boys walked by, they stopped in front of the window. They knocked on the window. I got up and walked over to the door and opened it.

            “Hey, are y’all open, we just need to get out of the snow for a few minutes, and our bus broke down on the way to a band competition.” One of the boys said smiling, you could hear they were cold and out of breath.

            “Sure, come on in.” I said smiling.

            “We were going to band finals and our bus broke down, the man who owns this coffee shop said we could stay here, looks like we were going to the same place.” Yandel said smiling.

            “This is our director, Mr. Yandel. This Macy, she plays the oboe. I’m Abril, I play the trombone.” I said smiling as they shook our hands.

            “Well I’m Dustin, I play the Saxophone.” The boy with blond hair and blue eyes said smiling.

            “And I’m Chase, I play tenors, snare, and trombone.” The boy with brown hair and blue eyes said.

            “I also play the drums but somebody won’t let me play them in band.” I mumbled.

            “We need as many low brass as we can get.” Yandel said.

            “It’s nice to meet you all.” Macy said smiling.

“Y’all too. Maybe we could all hitch a ride, but we have a bus full of kids sleepin’ down a few blocks. We broke down right next to this huge snow pile. There was stuff to fix the bus right next to it but we figured it was someone else’s and decided not to touch it.” Chase said frowning.

            “Wait, a huge snow pile? About how huge?” I asked worriedly, “And how many blocks down?”

            “About the size of our bus, and about seven blocks down.” One of boy said.

            “We need to go now!” I screamed as I ran out the door. Everyone followed.

            We ran seven blocks, I remember the time in 7^th grade when Mr. Yandel had raced Andrew, and it was hilarious. I guess Macy thought of the same thing.

            “Frodo, run like you are racing Andrew.” Macy yelled.

            I laughed. When we got to the bus we were in awe, but not the good kind. There was snow covMacyg the bus.

            “Holy, cows.” I said slowly as saw the snow covered bus.

            “We need to get them out!” Macy yelled.

            “We will help.” Dustin said as him and Chase started wiping away snow.

“It’s way too hard and thick, we can’t get it off.” Chase said frowning.

            “They can suffocate, we have to find a way.” I said frantically.

            “We can get our whole band to help, then we can do it.” Chase said running into the band. We heard him yell something then about fifty kids ran out of the bus and started wiping away snow, finally it was all off and everyone inside was still sleeping. It stopped snowing and everyone was happy. We decided we would just continue driving in the morning, and we would be fine.

            “We are just gonna leave them on the bus and crash in the coffee shop, do you three wanna come, I looks like your bus is already crowded and asleep.” Dustin asked smiling.

            “Sure, it stopped snowing so why not.” I said smiling

            We all walked back to the coffee shop finally for a good night’s rest, so we thought. We talked before we went to bed.

            “I wish you all luck in your band competition” I said smiling.

            “Y’all too.” Chase and Dustin both said.

            “I can’t wait to go to bed and get some…” I said being cut off by a loud sound.

            I looked around and I shivered.

            “What was that?” Macy said slowly.

            The ground began to twitch and then the holy lords came down. We saw a huge spiral in the distance.

            “Tornado! Get down!” Dustin yelled.

We all jumped on the ground and put our hands around our heads to protect from falling debris. Macy and I screamed in fear as the lamps and tables fell with loud crashes. Suddenly it all stopped. We were absolutely terrified and grateful. Thank goodness it just went by, if it caused the amount of damage from miles away, imagine what would happen to us if we were pulled up into it. We all just sat there for a moment. Until I looked at Yandel, he stood there looking like a zombie like he did at our first Beat out Cancer event, I was about to say something until I saw Yandel’s hair. It was filled with parts from the fallen celling. We all busted out laughing (well everyone but Yandel).

            “What’s so funny?” Mr. Yandel asked.

            “You look like that picture you had on you wall of you back when we were in 7^th grade. I think you were like George Washington or something.” Macy said giggling.

            “Jeez, it probably doesn’t look as bad as the time you guys did it for the Valentines Dance.” He said laughing.

            “You have to admit though, that was a perfect High F.” I said laughing.

            “Let’s just all go to bed so in the morning we can perform and go home.” Dustin said getting serious.

            “There’s no need for that, the stadium was hit, the tornado went straight through it and the competition is cancelled.” Yandel said looking down at his phone, probably reading an article or an email about it.

            “I hope they are ok. Are we heading home then?” I asked.

            “Not until this snow clears, we will talk in the morning. Good Night everyone.” Mr. Yandel said as we all laid down for a good night’s rest at last.

 

            It was cold when I woke up. One of the windows must have broken (along with most of the roof). I felt bad for the coffee shop man. I got up and made some coffee. I put 8 sugars in Macy and my coffees. We liked it sweet ever since we first tried it in 7^th grade Spanish class. I was the only one awake, I started thinking about the past events of just the night before. Even though we never would get this opportunity, but this was a very memorable night. Every second had reminded me of my past band experiences, and although I knew I would miss band, I also knew that I had a great time for the time I had. When the others woke up we headed back to our buses and drove home. This was the most bitter-sweet high school band good-bye I had ever witnessed. 

 

 

 

 Prologue

 

 

Five fingers. 

 “I’m done.”   

Four fingers. 

“Just keep him talking.”

Three fingers. 

“I really hate to do this.” Perfect shot.

Two fingers.  

 “Poor Mason. You just had to get mixed up in things. This shouldn’t have happened. I should’ve been able to get away, everyone should’ve been safe. But no! You had to exist…you know too much.”  

One finger. 

“You….You’re alive” 

And then… I slipped. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Ding!  My dad’s computer screen lit up and I jolted out of my skin. I jumped up and ran over to the computer. My game had been downloading for hours and I was really bored. Thinking that my hours of patience had finally paid off, I checked the screen. But it wasn’t my game. It was a message. TOP SECRET INFORMATION. I was curious so I opened it. It said: “COMPLETE. MEET OR CALL A.S.A.P.” What’s complete?? Why is it top secret??? Ever since Mom died he’d been so secretive and he always shut me out so maybe he wouldn’t have told me if something was happening. I started to search the first floor. There seemed to be nothing wrong, but something told me I had to keep looking. I tried to look for any detail that could’ve stood out. But there was nothing. I finally gave up. I turned around and something caught my eye. I spun around to my left to see what could’ve caught my attention. Nothing looked strange…until I looked at the wall. There was a square of it that looked very out of place. The paint was messed up. I walked over and looked a little closer. It wasn’t part of the wall…it was a trap door. I opened it and climbed down the stairs. Almost at once, I heard voices.  

“What should we do now, Tristen?”  

“What do you mean, what do we do?! We’ve done this millions of times before. Pull yourself together!” I heard my dad say angrily. “We need to put her someplace where nobody will ever find her.  We’ll hide her, send the standard ransom note, and wait. If we get no response from the family, we kill her. Simple as that.” 

“Understood, sir.”  

“What?! Dad? This has to be some sort of mistake. Why would he kill an innocent girl?!”  I climbed back up before either of them could see me, closed the trap door, and ran back to my room. I’m going to clear my dad’s name. This has to be a mistake. I opened my computer and started researching. I opened the search engine and typed in Tristen Murray. Nothing. Then I tried Tristen Murray Undercover Operation. Nothing. Just as I was shutting my computer, my dad knocked on my door. “Mason, I’m leaving on a business trip for about a week or so. You can drive so you’ll be fine.”  

“Okay. Bye.” I said as cheerfully as possible. As soon as I heard the front door slam, I rushed over to my dad’s office. My game didn’t matter anymore. I checked my dad’s e-mail again. The message he got had been deleted. Another dead end. I exited out and walked back up to my room. When I opened the door, I saw a figure dressed in all black standing in the middle of my room.  

“What were you looking for, Mason?” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

I panicked. I was never a good liar. With curly brown hair, preppy clothes, and a spoiled attitude, nobody liked me. I’m not even going to lie…nobody liked me. I was a gamer at heart so I never really got to talk to anyone anyways. Even though I didn’t talk, I hated so many people…and this guy is one of them. The menacing way he coughed loudly snapped me back to reality. “Um, I was just checking to see if my game had finished downloading, sir.”  

“Oh, really? And did it?” He asked in a sarcastic tone. 

“N-n-no. Not yet.” I was terrified. This was the man I had seen talking to my dad. “Dad must have left him to watch me.”  I thought. There was a cold and brutal look in the man’s eyes as he stared at me. In the sunlight I could see something shiny sticking out of his pocket. It was a knife. I started to freak out internally. He was going to kill me. I had to get away. I decided to try something super risky.  

“He won’t let you kill me.” I said. 

“I have no idea who you are referring to. I work alone.” He said menacingly as he took a step towards me. 

“You know very well who I’m referring to. Dad.” I said as I backed up. 

“Dad?” He asked. Another step. 

“TRISTEN MURRAY!” I was so overwhelmed with fear that I started screaming. “DON’T ACT LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW WHO I’M TALKING ABOUT! YOU WORK FOR THE GUY!”  

“Yes, I suppose I do. But he isn’t here now is he?” He said as he took another step towards me. I backed up and hit a wall. He saw his chance and put a knife to my neck. “If I were you, I’d listen real carefully to what I’m about to say.” His voice went from yelling to a menacing whisper in a split second. “Stay away from your dad. Stay away from me. And mind your own damn business. Or else.” He moved the knife to where it was no longer touching my neck, put it in his pocket, and walked out. After a couple of minutes I heard the front door slam. I slid down the wall and for the first time since my mom died, I started to cry. I sat there for hours, listening to the sound of my own sobs. I thought about what the man had said, and I decided that I had to know if my dad was dangerous. There had always been one floor of my house that I was never allowed to enter. Until now.

I got up hastily and ran out of my room. I sprinted down the hallway, pressed the elevator button, and stepped in. “The fifth floor.”  The elevator dinged as it reached the fifth floor. The forbidden floor. I wandered out of the elevator and looked around in wonder. I had never been here before. I started down the hallway. There were so many gigantic doors, each one leading to a different section of the forbidden floor. Trying the first door on the left, I turned the knob and walked in. Nothing. The room was completely empty. I walked back out and closed the door.

A little further down the hallway, there was another door. It was covered in cobwebs and taped on the knob was a tattered sign. It read: KEEP OUT! Of course, I didn’t listen. I opened the door and wandered inside. It looked completely normal. But I knew it wasn’t. It smelled like a dead bodies. As I stepped further into the room, my head hit something that was dangling from the ceiling. I thought it was just a broken ceiling fan or something. But when I looked up…I was looking into my mother’s eyes. My mother’s dead body was hanging from the ceiling above me. As I looked up, blood dripped onto my face. Her head was tied by a rope. Her mouth was open from a long-since faded scream of horror. My mother had been murdered.

 

Chapter 3

 

          I looked up at my mother until blood filled my eyes and I couldn’t see anymore.  The more I looked at her, the more I saw someone that I knew wasn’t my mother. This lady, in her last moments, became someone else. She became someone that begs for forgiveness, someone that tries to survive but fails miserably. Someone that falls right before reaching the finish line. Someone that didn’t make it. But I was determined not to turn into my mother. I wasn’t going to die like she did. In one second, I knew who had done it. It was my father that killed her. He killed her so he could show me what would happen if I ever found out. And now the same thing is going to happen to me. “Oh god. Oh my god. I’m going to die right next to my mother. Exactly like her.”

         

          “Hmmmm. You are very observant, dear Mason. You know, if I didn’t have to do this, we would be best friends. But I have to. I’m sorry.” For a moment, I thought I could see pity in his eyes. I thought he was going to spare me. I was wrong. The flash of pity changed to an enraged and bitter expression. He pulled a rope out of his pocket. I already couldn’t breathe. I was going to die. I turned and ran as fast as I could. I tried so hard to escape, but he was too fast. By the time I had reached the stairs, he had already prepared the rope and he was running after me. I could hear his footsteps right next to me. But he wasn’t even close to me. All of a sudden, everything stopped. The house was completely silent. A hand closed over my mouth. And then not only did everything go silent…Everything went black.

 

          I woke up on the floor. But I wasn’t dead. It didn’t make any sense. Earlier, my dad’s goon looked as though he was going to kill me right there. But I wasn’t dead! He had left me alive. So there was still hope that I could defeat my dad. But I couldn’t kill him. I just couldn’t. I had to survive long enough to help him get better. My thoughts were interrupted by a terrifying crash. Then came the words, “Mason. Come here.” I looked around, not knowing where the sound was coming from. “Mason.” It seemed like the wall was speaking. But it was my dad’s goon. He was trapped in the wall. That must be why I could hear footsteps earlier. I couldn’t tear down the wall, though. I had to find out a way to get in there and help him. Even though he tried to kill me, I wasn’t about to leave him there to die. I tore through the house, busted open the door, and started looking for a sledgehammer. Within minutes, I found one. I ran over to the house and started tearing the wall down. Suddenly, the sledgehammer made a huge whack. The last thing I heard from my dad’s goon was his head crack against the brick as I pulled his limp body out of the remnants of the wall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

The smack of his head hitting the brick made the worst sound I’d ever heard. I could see the exact moment his eyes went lifeless and his body went limp. I remembered the first time I ever saw him.

 

It was a freezing December night. My father had been in his office since the morning with some guy I haven’t even seen before. He looked mean and menacing. They had locked the door behind them but I had gotten to hear bits and pieces of the conversation. They were talking about my mother. They were plotting her death. My father didn’t want to do it. But this guy did. He finally convinced my dad. Automatically I hated him. I wanted to kill him. So I made a pact with myself. If he killed my mother, I would kill him. I would avenge her death.

 

I was in even more danger than ever before. If my dad found out that I killed his right-hand man with a hammer…I’d be killed with that same freaking hammer. I couldn’t risk being caught so I decided that I’d leave the body in the wall. For now, I guess. I’d come back later and move it. But for now…I had to take care of something. I walked back to the front of the house and the first thing I noticed was that the front door was open. And I hadn’t left it open. I was going to face whatever was in there sooner or later…might as well face it sooner. I shakily stepped into the house. It was completely silent. Too silent. Maybe my dad was home. Maybe he figured I wasn’t home. The first place he goes is always his office. His office door was completely shut. I slowly inched closer and closer. But as I reached the door, I heard a scream. It was my dad. I tried the doorknob. It was locked. He screamed again. Then everything went silent. The door flew open. But the room was empty. Nobody was in there. I yelled for my father. But there was no answer. I decided I had to go look for him. While I was thinking, I noticed something red out of the corner of my eye. I looked to my right. There was a trail of crimson blood leading through the wall. There couldn’t have been a way through the wall! I had watched enough movies to know that there was always a lever that opened a secret door, though. So I started looking for it. After about ten minutes of searching, I found it. I pressed down and a door in the wall swung open. The trail of blood led up the stairs. I kept walking. The trail led to the left. Into the room where my mother was. I slowly opened the door. My eyes followed the trail of blood all the way to the end of the room. I stepped onto it.

 

At the end of the trail…I saw a head laying against the wall, eyes that were glazed open, blood running from a body like a river of rubies. My father was dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

          I didn’t bury him…I put him in the same room as my mother. I sat there for hours. Silently weeping. Sometimes wandering through the room. After a while, it got really dark. I finally had the strength to look at my dead parents. I looked at them and I said “I will avenge your death. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

 

I took my eyes off of them and looked to the side. There was a door. I said goodbye to my parents one last time, before I set their bodies on fire. And left through the door. I stepped into the doorway and turned on the light. White packets. All I saw were shelves and shelves of white packets. I stepped further in. All of a sudden, the door slammed behind me and locked. I heard a cackle from the other side. Someone had been in the room with me the whole time. I pounded my fists against the door, hoping and hoping it would give and push open. But it never did. I was trapped. No windows. No open doors. Nothing except me and those shelves. What could they be? I walked over to the shelf closest to me and ripped a packet open. I dumped it upside down and white powder came out. So much of it. I tried another packet. More white powder. Another. More white powder. It was endless. The floor was now covered in white powder. It was cocaine. My dad was a druggy. He was a serial killer that was always high. Now I was glad he died. He deserved it.

 

          I could feel myself going insane. I kept pounding on the door and screaming until I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down. I started to cry. Just as I was going to give up, the door flew open. And I tumbled onto the burning body of my father. As soon as I saw his burning body, I lost it. I ran out of the room as fast as I could. I busted through my dad’s office door. Stumbling, I found exactly what I needed to follow my father’s legacy…

 

Rope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            

Prologue

It’s kind of funny. This whole thing started with death and now it will end with it. He had killed my whole family and now I’m going to find him. He will never be safe again. Wherever he is I’m already there, watching him. Waiting for the right moment, to strike.

This will end with him dead. Just like my family. Slaughtered right before my eyes, but I will have my vengeance. He will pay for his sins. And I will be there. I will be the one to end his life, or will I?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

It was a bright day just like any other. Everyone was happy and cheerful. I was out with Alex, my brother. We had come to a common love of shooting. We would go to the gun range and he would always choose a rifle and I would choose a handgun. The easy, nonchalant way I could grab it was reassuring. I had been saving up to buy a pistol and I was getting closer and closer. It was killing me. I needed one, bad. Whenever I went anywhere, even if it was with Alex, I felt unsafe…like I was being watched. Alex promised to protect me from any danger, but even he couldn´t protect me from my own imagination.

            Months went by. I went into my room and placed yet another twelve bucks into my clear mason jar which was now filled with money. I dumped it out to see how much I had. I had it all. I ran downstairs to Alex and Henry, my dad; I just call him by his name because that’s his name.

“What?!”Said Alex.

“I have the money!!!”I exclaimed.

“Then let’s go!” My dad said.

We went by the gun range and picked up out my favorite pistol. That’s when it all started. That’s when I didn’t feel safe anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

            I looked around trying to find Alex and Henry in the midst of people. I saw Alex trying (and failing) to flirt with some blonde chick. I still couldn’t see Henry. I went to Alex.

            “Yeah so I basically own the car.” Alex said trying to impress the girl.

            “Hi, I interrupted, I’m his sister, Kelsey.”

            “Kels please don’t. He begged.”

            “Sorry, I can’t help myself.” I muttered to him.

            “Did you know he still sleeps with stuffed animals? Yeah which was it, Harry the Hippo?”

            “It’s Harvey the Hippo stupid!” He yelled.

            “Ooook.” The girl said before she left.

            “Stupid.” He told me.

            “You’re welcome.”

            I heard a scream. It came from the other side of the room. I felt drawn towards it. We ran to the corner and that’s when I saw him. My dad was cut open with what used to be inside of him sprawled out on the floor around him spelling RUN.

            I had no words for what I was seeing. I just fell to my knees and cried. Then one thought came to mind, my mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

            Alex was just barely old enough to drive and he wasn’t very good at it. He drove like a drunken maniac swerving at every possible moment, but I wouldn’t judge him today. We had to get home to save my mother from whoever killed my father.

            When we got to the house I ran to the door with my set of keys (Alex lost his a while ago). I was frantically trying to fit it into the lock. It opened. I ran in screaming for my mom. No answer.

            I went upstairs to check her bedroom. She wasn’t there, but there was a deep shade of red staining the carpet in a trail going to the closet. I opened it cautiously and there she was crucified against the wall with a message in blood on the wall; I WARNED YOU! I rushed downstairs to Alex and told him. He hugged me and tried to comfort me. It wasn’t working but I made him believe it was.  

            I heard something in the kitchen. My immediate thought was run, but apparently that wasn’t Alex’s. He darted towards the kitchen. He screamed and that’s when I ran.

            “You baby.” I told him.

            “You’re a baby!” He said back.

            “It’s just a cat dumb dumb nothing to fear my brave bro.”

            “Whatever.”

            It was just my cat Jinx. We thought he was jinxed because every day he would do something bad and Henry would threaten to shoot him, but would forget about it.

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

I grabbed Jinx and we ran out the door. It was impossible to think that everything I had known was gone and the people I loved were dead. At least I had Jinx and Alex, but Jinx is a cat and Alex is my stupid brother.

I had to find who did this. They would pay. I imagined what I would do to them.

Step 1: Yell at them.

Step 2: Torture them.

Step 3: End them.

I still didn’t know if I would be able to do all of those things even if the person or people did kill my parents, but by the look in Alex’s eyes I knew he would.

Think about it though. One day you’re living a normal, everyday life and then BAM it changes like that. I wish I could’ve done something. It just seemed like there were no clues, but there were. I keep looking back on that day and now I know there were clues everywhere.

We drove for about an hour until we reached the city limit. Was this really it? Did we have to leave our home town? I told Alex to stop.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”      

I wanted to say good-bye to my home. Everything I once knew was gone or dead. I stood there for a minute or two. Alex was getting impatient so I looked at the sign saying city limits. This was it, I was leaving my home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

            We hadn’t stopped driving for 50 miles. We were hungry tired and scared out of our minds. Alex looked as if he were about to go insane, so I told him to stop at the QT. I went in and grabbed some candy and soda. I couldn’t see Alex in the car so I assumed he went to the bathroom or something. I turned around to see Alex pointing a gun at me.

            “Alex what the heck are you doing!?”

“You’re next little sis.”

“What the hell! What have I ever done to you?”

“Nothing, you’ve done nothing wrong my little sister.”

“Wait, Alex did you kill mom and dad?”

            BOOM!