Collapse, Collect, Carry On

Collapse,

Collect,

Carry On

A Creative Writing Magazine

Dear Reader, The following is the collection of writing for the final project of a creative writing class. Be forewarned- graphic language, violence, and angst can be found throughout the writings.

From a zombie attack ravaging the mind of a girl on LSD to teen pregnancy, from life experiences fictionalized to the extremes of the imagination, from the thrills of first love to violent deaths, jail, and suicide, students have kept their writing real to life. The language reflects that reality. The following is an uncensored magazine. Each student is responsible for the writing contained within. From poetry to short stories to daily agendas to diaries- fictional and real- many genres are represented in this magazine.

Prepare for a journey into the creative endeavors of one of my favorite classes I’ve ever had the pleasure to teach and learn from. We laughed, we cried, we grew, we dug deep into our subconscious and discovered ourselves... and when the zombie apocalypse finally comes, I’ll be better prepared from having been in this class. So, thank you.

I’ll never forget you.

Ms. S

“LSD Zombies� by Erin I had gotten home early the day it all began. Mostly because I had skipped my last two classes. They were electives anyway. They didn't matter. I strolled down the street to my house, listening to Pendulum. The beat exploded in my head, and I bounced to the bass. I had my hoodie on with the hood up, even though it was blazing outside. In Little Rock, Arkansas, the temps can hit the triple digits in the summer. Thankfully it was only 98 today. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my skinnies and turned the music up, drowning out the kids playing in the O'Sullivan yard. Those children annoyed me.

I walked past one pristine front yard to another, a constant chain that curved around in my cul-de-sac, and continued on the other side of the road. I walked into the round and across the yard of 2822. It was my house, so it wasn't like I was hurting anyone's lawn. I had been told to stop doing that enough. Our house was your typical suburban American dream, two stories, a pretty sea blue with white trim. Pink and white flowers grew abundantly in their beds that lined the walkways, and a cheery sign saying 'Welcome!' hung on the inner front door, behind the smudge proof glass. I unlocked it and dropped my bag on the mat inside, scraping the heels of my Converse on the white rug until they popped off.

"Hello!" I called. I walked past the living room, where black and white pictures hung of my parents and I, most of them back from when I was little and consented to smiling cheesily to a camera. I slid into the kitchen, my socks becoming skates, and stopped myself at the counter. I grabbed a bag of chips, a half empty two litre of Mountain Dew, some Nutella and a box of animal crackers and opened the basement door with my elbow, humming to myself.

I thundered down the stairs, and swung around the railing when I got to the bottom.

The basement was my fortress. My parents and I had an unspoken agreement. I keep my grades above C's, and they left me alone. The upper floor is theirs, the basement is mine, except the laundry room, which my mom could have, and the ground floor was neutral. I poured my bounty onto the coffee table in the left corner, where my mini living room was. Couch, coffee table, easy chair, flat screen, and game center. I turned the T.V on, and flipped to Cartoon Network. At seventeen, it was still my favorite channel.

I walked further into the cave and bit my lip when I saw my room. I needed to clean it.

Maybe I'd clean it tomorrow. I went back to flop on the couch. Once I was situated, I opened the left drawer of the coffee table. That's where my stash of goodies was. There was a baggie of weed, some colorful little pills that rolled around, and a pack of cigarettes. I lit up a blunt and sat back, watching Adventure Time, which switched into Regular Show, and then MAD. It was eight at night before I knew it. My parents must have gotten home, but I hadn't heard them. I flipped through the channels, and stopped on the news.

It was another stupid story about an attack. These attacks, where a person mauled someone else, had been happening more frequently lately. They blamed it on bath salts. Ok then, if that's what ya wanna believe. I rolled my eyes. After telling the story, they started talking about the "precautions" again.

Stay indoors after dark, lock your doors, don't walk up to people who seem confused or bewildered, and call the police for any unusual behavior. They had even started to make survival backpacks and advice about finding the military for help in case of emergency. Then the screen went fuzzy. I flipped it off. I had read The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead. And Max Brooks seems like he knows what he was talking about. I closed my eyes, about to fall asleep.

I jumped as my phone rang. I picked it up. It was Steph, my other half. I answered it, and could barely hear Steph over the sound of music, laughter, and rowdy, loud arguments in the background. "Get over here! Party at Thomas's!" she yelled, and the line went dead. I groaned. I loved a party as much as the next girl, but I had just gotten comfortable. I rolled off

the couch and lay on the floor for a moment. I pulled myself up and walked to my "wardrobe", which was just a laundry basket on the floor. I pulled out a clean pair of jeans, a green button down, and after searching my room, my yellow flats. I put a shot of hairspray through my hair, a swipe of mascara on my eyelashes, and took the stairs two at a time.

I locked the door behind me as I left and got into my old hunk of junk car my dad had bought me. It started, eventually, and I pulled out of the drive. My parent's cars weren't in the drive. They must have had to work late. As I drove down the road, I glanced at the O’Sullivan’s yard. No one was there. The hose was still on in the yard, trickling into the driveway, and a ball abandoned in the drive. The kids must have gotten bored. I turned out of the neighborhood and drove down the road, and headed for Thomas's.

Thomas lived farther out in the country than I did. The highway ran nearly in his backyard, if it wasn't for the woods that separated them. As I drove to his house down the highway, I noticed the huge abundance of cars driving out of town. People freaked way too easily. Two cop cars with their sirens on were the only two cars on the others side, into town. A helicopter flew overhead, towards the tall sky scrapers of downtown Little Rock.

I turned down his road and into his small neighborhood. Cars were packed in the driveway, and I pulled onto the curb. It seemed like everyone was there. I walked in and was greeted by Thomas and Zach shouting at the T.V. The sound of guns filled the speakers. They were playing some stupid game. Eric and Garrett were standing behind them, shouting and spilling their drinks on the couch. Their girlfriends, new ones like always, giggled in their arms.

Steph was sitting in a chair on the far side of the couch, looking at her nails. She glanced up and as she recognized me, a smile filled her face. She got up and motioned me into the kitchen. Half empty bottles stood like towers on the kitchen table, and a stack of Solo cups stood next to them. “Everyone else already left. You know, following the new curfews.” Steph told me. I nodded and poured myself a Rockstar with a shot of Absolut. I took a drink of it, and a warm tingling filled my limbs. We walked back into the living room, and Thomas tossed his controller down, coming over to see me.

He gave me a hug, and a short kiss. I didn't know what was going on with that situation. We were on and off, but when we were off, we were somehow still on. I smiled at him and he sat down in a chair, pulling me to sit on his lap. I did, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Look what I've got!" Eric announced, and I turned to look. A small sheet of paper was held in his hand. Blotters. Blotters are small pieces of paper with LSD in them. You put it in your mouth, and away you go. I took one. I held it on my tongue for a little while, and then swallowed it. I closed my eyes. Already shapes were forming beneath my eyelids, and I listened closely to the music that came out of the speakers. It moved the room.

I watched the guys play video games for a while, and my cup filled again with whatever was available to deliver a bitter punch. I glanced at the clock. It was twelve, I thought. Four hours had passed in minutes. I looked down at my cup. Just a second ago it had been full. Just a drop snaked its way around the bottom. How many drinks had I had? Three?

Or had it been four? The ground rolled. Ok, it had been more than a few. I jumped as a bump on the outside of the house seemed to turn out the lights, and then they stuttered back on. My cup dropped from my fingers, and landed with a pinging sound on the floor. Everything seemed to be very slow, and every sound was muted.

Thomas's voice came distantly in my ear. "What was that?" he asked, and I shrugged.

His voice echoed around in my head. He nudged me off of his lap, and another bump sounded.

It sounded like someone was walking around on the porch. Someone very drunk. "Might just be someone who didn't leave earlier." he said, and walked to the door. He looked at us all with a grin on his face, and opened it. His expression changed quickly, and his eyes grew wide. "Oh shi-" he shouted before I saw someone fall on him. He collapsed on the ground, and the person

crouched over him, and then bit him in the throat. Thomas screamed, and was cut off, a gurgling noise coming from him as his blood spilt on the ground.

Everyone exploded into motion. The world became ten times brighter, and I squinted, trying to follow where everyone was. They left trails, like they were caught moving in a camera. Then everything got really still. I stood motionless, and watched. Steph was being held away from Thomas, sobbing, by Zach. Garrett and Eric rushed in from the garage, holding baseball bats. Two more of the drunken people walked through the door. I looked at everyone for a moment, and then turned towards the kitchen, and the back door. It seemed so far.

I dashed to it, time slowing to molasses speed, and sprinted into the woods. I stumbled as the time caught up, running blind. A branch brushed my face, and warmth started to spread down my cheek. I stopped, and touched my cheek. Shiny blood stood out on my fingers. I looked at it quizzically, and then everything faded.

It was the pain that woke me. Throbbing, sharp pain filled my head. I kept my eyes shut tight; knowing the morning light coming through my bedroom window was going to kill. I rolled over, and reached for my comforter. Wait. Last night. I snapped my eyes open, and as expected, the light made my skull implode. I groaned. Not just from the instant hangover headache, but where I was. I was in the woods, right where I had passed out the night before.

Why hadn't anyone come to get me? I sat up slowly so that I was sitting. I leaned up against a tree, and pulled myself up sluggishly. I was gonna be so dead when I got home.

I had to get back to the house. I walked there at a snail's pace, and stopped when I reached the edge of the woods, where the yard started. Bottles and cups littered the backyard, and the back screen door slammed on its hinges, blowing in the summer breeze. I groaned and walked across the yard, catching the door just as it was about to slam again. I walked through it, and my breath stopped. The world shrunk to a pinpoint, and music bounced in my head, then a scream shattered it. The night before. A drunk person attacked Thomas, and the others, I didn’t remember. I didn’t think that’s what really happened, but it seemed so real. The kitchen spread back out in front of me, and the chaos in my head faded.

Chairs were overturned; the bottles smashed on the floor and spilt over on the table. A sharp and sickly sweet smell filled my nose. I wanted to throw up. Blood was smeared on the floor, and my fingers shook. I curled them into fists. It’s a joke. It’s just a joke. I slowly walked into the living room and the red trails grew bigger, thicker. I took a deep breath, and crept further, and then did throw up when I saw it. It being Thomas. Flies had already begun to hover around his wounds. He was lying at the foot of the stairs, a few feet from the front door, which was wide open. I wiped my lips with a shaky hand and looked closer.

The bones in his face were visible where the flesh had been ripped away. His throat was torn out, and thick blood pooled onto the floor beneath his head. His abdomen lay open, his organs spilling onto the ground. But yet, I could have sworn he was breathing. As I got nearer I was sure of it. I knelt down next to his mutilated corpse. A choking sound had come from his lips, like he was trying to breathe. Hope filled me that he was alive. Then he opened his eyes.

They were cloudy and fogged, their brown color faded into a sick, pale peach. Thomas's arm reached out, and grabbed mine. I yanked it away, scrambling backwards away from him. I stood up unsteadily, and watched for a moment as he tried to stand, slipping in the mess that covered the ground. His arms reached out hungrily, an impatient choking coming out of him. I darted into the kitchen, backing myself into the corner. I heard Thomas, and then saw him, stumbling his way around the dining table. His eyes wandered for a moment, then locked back onto me. He lurched forward, an unnatural being, kept up by pure instinct. I looked around, and snatched a knife off the counter.

"Get away from me!" I screamed at him, and he staggered closer. "Thomas I'm serious!

Stop!" I begged him, and with a growl, he tripped forward. I met him mid-attack, plunging the

knife into his gaping throat, up into his head. I let go, and he fell to his knees, and then backward. I stared at him, lying there, for a second, and then closed my eyes, bringing my hands to my mouth. A choking sob ripped through my chest, and I slumped to the ground, looking at him, lying unmoving on the ground. I had killed him. But was it really him? Was I just killing the shell of his dead body? I forced myself to look at him again, and immediately, he looked different.

He was lying on my bed, grinning up at me. His arms reached up and pulled me down next to him, and he kissed me. I was laughing. The memory faded, and I blinked. I was lying next to him on the floor, my hand on his bloated chest. His unseeing eyes looked at me, unfocused. I slid away, pulling my hand away, and then weakly stood. I knelt down and drew the knife out of his neck. I grasped it tightly. I didn't know what to do. I walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room. I stood in the middle of the floor, my mind blank. The wood creaked as someone stepped onto it behind me. I tensed up, and as they got closer, I spun around, knife poised above my head, ready to kill.

Steph screamed, and jumped back. I screamed too, and my arm fell to my side. I relaxed, and dropped the knife, her presence reassuring me. She laughed, surprised, and hugged me. "Did you kill him?" she asked, and I nodded into her shoulder. We stepped back from each other, and she held my arm tightly. I sighed, my breath coming shakily.

“What do we do?” Steph whispered to me, clinging onto my arm. I didn’t know. But I wouldn’t let her know that.

“Um, well what do they do in those prep videos they showed on T.V?” I asked her, and she nodded.

“Well, carry a backpack, small enough that it won’t make you tired, big enough to carry a lot of supplies.” I looked around. The house was becoming unbearable. The blood on the walls reminded me that I had abandoned everyone. I should have died with them. I shook my head.

“Ok.” I said, and looked up the stairs. I didn’t want to go up there. I was afraid of what I might find. Or who. I didn’t want to kill anyone else. I didn’t even know if they were human though. I gripped the rail tightly and started up the stairs slowly. I took a step and the stair seemed to fall away from me. I gripped the rail tighter, and it bent, like a noodle. The world shuddered for a moment. Then it snapped back into reality. I took a breath and continued up.

Steph followed silently, close behind me as if I could protect her. I reached the top and cautiously peeked around. There was a bedroom to my left, a closet door straight ahead, and down the hall, a bathroom, office, and two more bedrooms. I decided to start down the hall, work my way back to the stairs. I went in the first bedroom. It was Thomas’. Dirty clothes covered the floor, the curtains were drawn, and the bed wasn’t made. His skateboard leaned on the wall next to his desk. His backpack slouched behind it, looking unused. I fell on it like a vulture on carrion. I dumped the papers and books out of it, and held it in my hand. It was big, and new. Of course Thomas wouldn’t use it. I carried it out with me and went to the next room.

It was his little sister’s.

My throat closed when I remembered she was at camp this week. I hoped she was ok. I blinked away tears and backed out of the room. There would be nothing in there anyway. I turned around, away from the innocent pastels and children’s toys. The bathroom door stood cracked open. I pushed it the rest of the way open and put my hand to my nose. Steph whimpered behind me. The remains of something lay in the bathtub. Thick, coagulated blood pooled in the drain. Tears came to my eyes at the smell of rotting flesh. I took a step in, and quickly started looking through the cabinets above the sink. I took the antiseptic, a box of Band-Aids, and the toothpaste. I couldn’t go without the toothpaste. A squishy roll of peach colored bandages dropped out. I jumped. I looked at them for a moment, and tossed them in too.

A noise came from the bathtub. My breath quickened and I glanced over, not moving. A low, gurgling moan came from the thing. An arm hung over the side, and the fingers moved.

“Get out of there.” Steph whispered to me, but I stood frozen. Its head, which had been facing the wall, turned with a snapping noise. The eyes. I would never get over the eyes. They were always the deciding factor in whether they were dead or not. They were cloudy, pale, the color washed out by death. They were hypnotizing, in a sick way. Then I noticed it. Blonde hair still hung stringily, matted by blood, onto the scalp of the corpse. The eyes were once blue, and the skin on the cheeks, where it still hung, was pale. Scraps of a green tank top still stuck to the chest, and blue jeans hung from the exposed hipbones. I looked back at Steph, who stood terrified behind me. Then I looked back at the hungry, diseased corpse in the bathtub, which was slowly clambering its way out, though it was having a hard time, blood making the white porcelain slippery.

“No.” I whispered. I looked at Steph again, where she stood in the hallway, crying. Her blond hair was unbrushed. Her blue eyes were wide open, as she motioned for me to move. Her cheeks were rosy, smeared with blood spatter, and her skin was light and smooth. Her green tank top and blue jeans were covered in gore. Those blue jeans. I had been there when Steph had gotten them. She had been so happy. They were 190 dollars, dark blue, with a butterfly embroidered on the leg. The corpse wore the same jeans. “Are you real?” I asked her, and she looked at me with a look of utter disbelief. “What the hell? What kind of question is that? Yes I’m real!” she screamed at me. I looked at her closely. Fear emanated from her, and I shook my head, backing up.

Slippery fingers gripped my ankle. I finally moved from my immobile trance, and brought my foot down hard on the hand that had grabbed me. Steph had been crawling on the floor, dragging herself to me. There was nothing there in that body. It was no longer her. It was a creature ruled by instinct, and it would eat me without a second thought. It was not my friend. Its mouth gaped open, teeth coming within inches of my bare leg. I kicked it in the face, and the neck snapped back at an impossible angle. The grip loosened for a moment, and I yanked my foot away. The creature let out a raspy growl, and I brought my weight down on the back of its head, stomping my foot on its skull. I heard the bones in its face crack. I bashed it again, and again, until pulp spread on the floor. I grabbed the bag off the ground, stumbled out of the bathroom and closed the door. Something touched my shoulder.

I spun around quickly. Steph stood there, tears running down her cheeks, her eyes terrified. “You kill it?” she asked. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I killed YOU!” I said, and she backed up against the wall. “You aren’t here! You don’t exist! That was you in that tub! That was you.” I screamed, sliding down the wall, sobbing, until I was sitting on the bloodstained carpet. Steph sniffled.

“Fine then.” she said, and walked into the parent’s room. She sat on the bed. I wiped my eyes and got myself up, picking up the backpack. I walked into the bedroom and Steph got up, walking to the window. She was giving me the silent treatment. I looked where she had sat. She left no mark on the neat bedspread that she had been there. I sighed. I wasn’t about to waste valuable time trying to make up with a hallucination.

I needed to find clothes. I looked in the closet first. I had known Thomas’s parents. His dad was strict, all business. He wore suits everyday to work, and they hung in the closet, neatly pressed. His mom was different. She was fun, still responsible though, and had a good job down at the high-end gym. She was very athletic. I looked through her clothes. We were about the same size. I grabbed a black leather jacket that hung near the end, and a pair of black boots that stood stiff under it. I grabbed a pullover hoodie that hung a few hangers down, too. It was Adidas, a pretty purple color on the sleeves, and grey on the body. It was something I would have liked to have, when I had people to show off to. But it didn’t hurt to have nice things now, too.

I threw them on the bed and looked through the dresser. Knickknacks filled the top drawers, and then underwear, and then tanks. I grabbed a few tank tops, and put them on the floor. At the bottom I found jeans. I grabbed a few pairs. I felt something hard underneath the layers of soft material.

I flipped the jeans over, and there it was. A gun. I had never used a gun in my life. I picked it up, and the weight hung solid in my hand. It was a silvery color, and next to where I had picked it up were a long thing and a box of bullets. I picked them up and sat them on the floor. I sat down and looked at it. "Ok, can't be that hard." I muttered to myself, and Steph laughed from where she was standing at the window.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" she asked, and I closed my eyes, trying to not go completely crazy and put a bullet through my own head. Steph came to sit next to me. "That," she said, pointing to the long flattish thing, "goes into the handle part." I nodded and saw what she meant, when I looked at the bottom and it was hollow. I put it in, and it clicked. "You make sure there were bullets in that?" Steph interjected, and I sighed.

"No I didn't. Wanna check?" I asked her, and pointed it at her. She raised her hands, and I fired. Nothing happened.

"You. Just tried. To shoot me." Steph said, shocked and looking at me like she wanted to wring my neck. I shrugged, a half grin on my face.

"It wouldn't have done anything to you anyway. You are just a figment of my imagination." I told her, and she looked at me with a glare that told me she obviously thought differently.

"Ok so someone has boarded crazy train. I cannot believe I’m stuck with you." she said, getting up slowly and walking around. I chuckled and put the gun and box of ammo in the bag, even though they were worthless until I found how to use them. I changed into the clothes I had scavenged, a simple outfit. I layered my clothes, a tank, hoodie, and the jacket. I stuffed the other tank and pair of jeans into my bag. I slipped the boots on, and as a precaution, grabbed some socks out of a drawer. I put my hair up, and looked at myself in the mirror that was propped against the opposite wall.

My sandy brown hair was swept out of my face, slightly elegant in a way, even though the ends were crusted with blood. My bangs hung on my forehead, and fluttered into my eyes. I had my dad's eyes. They were a pale blue, wide and almond shaped. My makeup from the night before was smeared under them, making me looked more worried and tired than I was. My light skin was peppered with blood around my chin. Minus the blood, I looked pretty good. Too bad I was wasting it on the undead, not school. Steph came to stand next to me.

"Looking good." she said, smiling at our reflections. We had been so close, everyone called us sisters. We could pass as sisters too. Our eyes were both drop dead gorgeous blue, and our hair, when down, hung to our chests, perfectly wavy and mussed. She was the Blonde Twin, and I was the Brunette Twin. We loved each other so much. As kids, we had played games where we were being attacked by something or another. As I thought back on it, it was kind of ironic that she always got caught, and I had to go back to save her sorry ass. This time I was too late though. A tear fell from my cheek.

"Oh stop that. You were always the strong one." Steph cheered me. Great, now she was in my head. I turned away and grabbed the bag.

"There's nothing else up here." I told her, and she nodded, and we walked back down the stairs. We were quiet as we searched the rest of the house. In the kitchen we found peanut butter, canned vegetables, ten packs of Ramen noodles, Saltine crackers, energy bars, and instant coffee. We agreed that the last two were only to be used when absolutely needed. I opened a door off the side of the kitchen, which opened into the garage. That's where we found our Cornucopia.

Bottles of water were stacked in the corner. I ripped open one of the packs and slipped half of them into the bag, testing the weight. It was on the heavy side, but nothing I couldn't handle. I opened one then and drank it, not sure when I would next get a chance to quench my thirst. "Ooh, look what I found." Steph called in a singsong voice. I followed her and smiled.

On the wall was a small hatchet. I lifted it off its holder to find it was surprisingly heavy for its size. I swung it a few times. It would do. I looked through the rest of the garage quickly, finding a pocket knife. I wanted as many weapons as I could find.

I walked up the stairs back into the house. I didn't know where to go now. Then I knew.

The neighborhood backed up on this side of the street to a small wood. If you traveled straight through them, you would come to the highway. There might be other people there. "I agree." came an annoying presence behind me. At least having dead Steph was better than being alone. I hesitantly crept back to the front door, and immediately halted. A few zombies stumbled around in the street, moaning and feeding on corpses in piles. I backed away from the door and walked towards the back. I opened the door quietly and stepped out.

I looked around. It was getting dark. I tried to remember what the stupid, though now completely necessary, television broadcasts on the zombie problem said. Then I remembered with a sick stomach. Zombies become more active at night. But the broadcasters never called them zombies. They called them the "reanimated". Whatever you think they are, they are zombies. End of story. What, they don't call it the "reanimated apocalypse", do they? I rolled my eyes at this thought and took a deep breath. I stepped onto the grass quietly, trying not to make even a whisper of noise. My fingers trembled.

Noise, light, movement, smell, anything strange, sudden, or human attracts them. In the light of day, the woods hadn’t been scary, but then again, I hadn’t known that there could be zombies lurking around in them. The trees at the edge of the grass led the way into the dark, and I couldn’t see what lied beyond. I didn’t want to think of what might be in the woods.

I just had to go. I walked in, being mindful of leaves and branches that littered the ground.

Because in scary movies, it’s always the person that makes noise in the woods that gets ambushed. I walked as straight as I thought I could, not wanting to get lost. Then I heard a shot. I muffled a scream and dropped to the ground. Steph dropped down next to me and wiggled her way closer.

“Who was that?” she whispered, her voice getting high pitched and whiny, just like it always did when she was scared or worried. I shrugged, my face facing hers. We lay there for a while, and froze when we heard footsteps. I scrambled up quickly, and when I turned around, the barrel of a gun faced my nose. I couldn’t see who stood on the other end of it, the dark enveloping everything within a few inches. I raised my hands shakily, scared to death that he would shoot.

“I’m not one of them.” I told him and he blinked.

“Get down.” he ordered, and I did, keeping my hands above my head and kneeling, trying to keep a level head. "Toss me your bag." he said, and I hesitated for a moment. He got closer and I swung it off, handing it over slowly. He kicked it aside. He took a shaky breath. I couldn’t see him in the murky darkness, but I could feel his nervousness. I stifled a grin as I realized this guy wasn't the tough killer I had thought. I could feel the hard shape of the pocket knife in my jeans. If only he would get a little more distracted. I twisted my face into tears, something I had used to do when I was little to get what I wanted. I was going to throw him a bone.

"Please, don't hurt me. I'm all alone and I just… I'm just so afraid." I sniffled, and I knew he cared. Caring wasn't something that you should do in this situation. Steph was cracking up, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I saw him relax his grip on the gun. My chance. I shot up, my hand at my pocket, and I pulled out the knife, snapping it open. I raised it, ready to strike, and then felt my arm being yanked behind me, hard. The air escaped

my lungs and I struggled for a breath. My shoulder was killing me, and my wrist was being bent backward by someone behind me. The hands were rough and callused, and their breath was ragged. I held in my pain, too in shock to cry. My knife was ripped from my immobile fingers. A rough voice startled me as the man holding me spoke.

“Damn it Shawn, I knew you couldn’t handle being on your own.” He said, and I whimpered. The guy tightened his hold, and I felt like I was going to throw up. The younger guy in front of me, Shawn, had put down the gun.

“How was I to know this bitch was crazy?” he answered, and in the dark, I heard him move and pick up my bag. I squirmed and kicked backward, trying to get away from my captor. I screamed as my shoulder ground against bone, and was wrenched out of its socket.

The guy let me go. I was hopeful for a movement, until a blow landed on my head, and the dimness of the night turned into nothing.

“Psst. Hey. Hellooo!” My eyes snapped open. Scratchy cloth rubbed my eyelids, and darkness enveloped my vision. I started suddenly. “Man girl, what have you gotten us into now?” Steph’s incessant chatter kept up, and now that I was apparently tied, I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to assess my situation by testing my bindings. I was sitting up, in a chair. The air was thick and hot. I was in a shed, I thought. I tried to get up, and immediately pain shot from my shoulder. I jerked my head in pain, and I bit my lip, getting dizzy. My hands were tied behind the chair, and every move I made made my shoulder scream in pain. My ankles were tied to the front chair legs, and burns were already forming from the rope that held them tightly. “This humidity is killing me!” Steph whined, and I groaned.

“Sorry to tell you, you’re already DEAD!” I muttered. I let out an exasperated breath. I had to get out of here.

“Ugh my hair is gonna frizz! Yours is already ruined, sorry to say. Maybe if you finger combed it and did a few quick head tosses? And do you have any foundation? Your cheeks are flaming.” Steph criticized. I hated her. She continued to take in my disgusting state, and I felt my Bitch O’ Meter rising.

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! God you do not understand how much I don’t care!” I groaned. She fell silent, if only for a moment.

“Hey, I think there are some people outside.” Steph whispered. That news was slightly reassuring, but also made me tense. Voices came slowly as gravel under feet came close. Their voices came slowly, and I listened to the conversation. “What are we going to do with her? We let her go, she tells her people. We keep her; she could hurt one of us or run away. We have to get rid of her.” came a deeper voice, and I recognized it faintly from the night before.

A woman answered him. “Well, we don’t know what her people are, or if she has any.

Just because we are in this situation doesn’t mean we kill innocent people.” I thanked the woman silently. The guy punched the wall. The shed shook I heard the fluttering of bird’s wings above me. I jumped and my voice gave away my awareness. “Great, she’s awake.” The woman walked away, and I listened to her footsteps until they were gone. The man stood at the door, let out a curse, and after a moment, walked away too. I let my head fall to my chest, and closed my eyes, exhausted by my situation.

“How are you?” came a concerned voice. Oh, now she cares. I could hear her walking around. She was rubbing her freedom in my face. Maybe I should have just killed myself when I had the chance. But that’s the easy way out. My stomach growled, and my muscles felt like rubber. Steph stopped walking. “He’s coming this way.” I listened, and heard gravel as feet came close. The door slammed open. I breathed quickly, terrified as I heard heavy footsteps walking towards me. My muscles trembled. I heard someone breathing. They were staring at me, the person that had come into the shed. I could feel their eyes burning holes in my head.

I shivered, even though it was blazing hot. The person sighed, and I could feel their breath as it fluttered through my hair. I was vulnerable. The suddenness of a voice startled me.

“What’s your name?” came a deep voice, but beyond that, I heard Steph give a whistle.

"Damn. Who's the hottie?" she asked, and I had to swallow the urge to vomit. This guy was going to kill me, and she wanted to flirt. It was wrong on so many levels. I gasped as a finger brushed my cheek.

"Your name?" came the voice again, and I shuddered. The guy cleared his throat.

"You're kinda pretty. Sorry about the shoulder. Didn't think you were gonna be such a fighter. I could do somethin with you." His fingers fell down to my thigh. I was completely sickened. Was this going to be my life? I would rather die. I spit into the air, hoping my aim hit his face.

A second later, I got my answer as with the relief of his removal of his hand, a smack made my head spin. A leg kicked the chair out from under me and my head slammed into the ground. A boot knocked the air out of my stomach with a gasp, and a snapping sound shattered my pain scale. Warmth flooded my stomach, and throbbing pain coursed through my battered body. I coughed, and a coppery taste filled my mouth, running warm from my lips.

Blood. I heard a snick.

He had a gun at my head. I knew it, and I didn't want to die. A voice sounded from the distance, and then there was a scream. He moved away from me, and a flood of fresh air came in as he opened the door and ran, leaving me. My heart started to pump faster as I heard shouting. Footsteps ran close and I tensed up until the bandana was untied from my eyes. I look around quickly, and glimpsed a woman as she shakily began to untie my ankles.

A bump hit the side of the shed, and the woman started to cry hysterically. "What's happening?" I asked her, my vision being restricted to the back of the shed, the door at my back. She started to mutter under her breath, pulling out a knife to cut my hands loose. I felt the rope starting to loosen, and then she dropped the knife, a scream crushing my relief. Warm liquid dripped on my arm, and I wiggled myself away from the chair, rolling myself over.

The woman was screaming as a zombie bit into her shoulder, blood covering her white blouse. My eyes fell to the knife she had left and I swallowed. I moved towards it and leaned backwards until it was in my hands. I began to rub the blade against the rope, feeling it fraying. I moved away from the woman, and started to cry as two more zombies came through the door. Steph stood in front of them, her hands out, as if she could stop them. The rope was almost undone. One of them hobbled towards me, collapsing near my feet.

It crawled towards me and I kicked it away, and it grabbed my leg. Its mouth opened, rotted teeth inches from my jeans. I closed my eyes, and strained my arms. The rope snapped, and blood flooded back into my hands. I drove the knife into the zombie's head and it released my leg. The second one lunged, and I kicked it in the chest as I tried to stand. I stabbed it in the side of the head and ran out of the shed. Zombies dotted the fields that surrounded me. I was on a farm. I cussed and looked around. There didn't seem to be anyone alive. Zombies feasted on the bodies of the residents. I ran onto the gravel road that seemed to lead off the farm, and dodged zombies as they wandered mindlessly. I had to get away.

I stopped as a cry grabbed my attention. I turned, and saw a little girl, barely two, as she tottered around, terrified. Her cries were drawing the zombies towards her. I started to run to her, and stabbed a zombie in the throat as it came too close. I pulled her by her arm, scooping her up, and wrapped her arms around my neck. I ran back onto the road, and sprinted towards freedom. I held tight to the little girl, and shushed her.

When I made it to the road, I found it clearer of zombies. Just a few wandered in the street. I quietly scurried along the side of the road, keeping low and quiet. The farm soon fell behind me, and with it, the hordes of zombies. I started to walk, assured that I was safer. I stopped and sat down on the pavement. The little girl was still sniffling and I watched her closely. “What’s your name?” I asked her quietly.

“It hurts.” She replied, and I was confused.

“What hurts?” I asked, and she shook her head. “It’s ok. I’ll make it better.” I reassured her, and she turned, pulling up the leg of her shorts. Two bloody crescents almost made an oval in the smooth skin of her leg. The blood drained from my face. She was bitten.

I watched her closely, and looked back at the bite. The skin around it was beginning to turn waxy and yellow. She was dying.

She sniffled. “Make it better.” She asked, and I shook my head. I didn’t want to do what I knew I had to do. It would be better to put her out of her misery. She started to cry, and I bit my lip, trying to stay strong. I had to do it. If I didn’t, she would go through the fever, and the pain, and eventually die from it. I sat with her as she cried, not wanting to touch her, not wanting to get attached. Why couldn’t I just do it? I watched her golden curls as she touched the bite. She would go faster than an adult. I felt her arm, hiding my real reason as reassurance. Her arm was burning up. The fever was raging in her body.

I looked at the sky as it turned dark. I dozed and awoke every few minutes, trying to stay awake, fighting my growing fatigue. The little girl’s cries slowed to sniffles, and then just whimpers as she slumped in my lap. I looked around for Steph. She wasn’t there. Perfect time for her to leave me. I brushed a hand through the little girl’s hair. A clump of it fell out into my hand, and the little girl didn’t even stir. Her breathing was faint. I hummed, trying to keep my composure. I stopped humming as I felt her breathing stop. I laid her down on the road and brought an ear to her mouth. There was no breath. She had died.

I shook my head. When she came back as a zombie I would have to kill it. I rolled back onto my toes, resting my arms on my knees. The sun was just beginning to come up. I gripped the knife in my hand, and watched her body.

It was her shoulders that moved first. It was interesting, watching her come back. She twitched, her arms and fingers, her legs, then her feet. It was like the switches were being turned on again. Then her chest rose, and her eyes snapped open. They were pretty, even in their decomposed state. They locked on me, and I felt a tear run down my cheek. The girl reached up to me, and I held her hand. I pulled her into a hug, keeping her deadly teeth away from my skin. “I’m sorry.” I whispered, and I plunged the blade into the back of her head, pulling it out and letting her fall backward. I couldn’t control the sobs that came.

I shouldn’t have saved her. Or was it the right thing that I did? I didn’t know. I stood up and stepped away from her, turning away from what I had done. I walked towards the highway, following the street signs. When I found it, I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t known the full extent of the damage. Cars were still in their tracks, front to bumper. I saw skyscrapers in the far distance from the city.

I started my journey away from the city. I was sure it was in chaos by now. I watched my feet, trying to stay awake. "So, back on our own?" chirped a presence at my left. Steph was back. “Sorry for leaving ya back there. It was just getting too mopey.”

I nodded, thinking. There was no food. All I had was the dull knife from the woman. My hunger was starting to wear on me. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. "Yeah, we're back on our own." I told her, and she swung her arm around my shoulders. She pulled something out of her pocket, and plastic gleamed in her hand as she dangled a baggie in front of my face.

More LSD. “Look what I go-t.” she said in a singsong voice. I reached up and felt the cool plastic, saw the papers inside. I could use a vacation. Maybe one more time wouldn’t hurt.

Steph laughed as we walked stride in stride down miles of cars.

“Running and Dealing� by Alicia I keep myself working on many things all at once at a fast pace. While most people travel the road of life at fifty miles per hour, I bolt down the road at ninety miles per hour with a semi full of my memories barreling after me. But the horrible, depressing memories slow it down, keep it from catching me. But if I slow down, the dark energy that reeks from it will soak into my skin, making me slow down more and more until the semi drives over me, crushing me. If I slow down, it takes a lot to get me moving again.

My friends, my family, when I stop, it is hard to think about them but if I can manage it, I can get going again. The people that care about me for whatever reason fuel me, keep me going. My role plays, where I can make anything happen show me that there will always be a reason to keep going. They help me to forget my reality.

I can't remember my past. But I forget the good as well as the bad. I'm forgetful, every memory of mine flying out the window like common litter. People don't like to be around me because I get overly excited about the smallest things. I get hyper. This is how I shield myself from outside forces that would slow me down. But the wrong words from a friend can shatter that wall like a baseball shatters glass. Others don't understand so I don't hold their accidents against them. People tell me to calm down, but I can't. If I calm down, I'll crash. I have to keep going. I can never stop if I want to keep living.

“Truth and Lies� by Alicia The truth is a prison that locks up my words, shrouding them in memories. But while it imprisons my words, it protects my sanity. No one can know the truth. I have to lie my way through every day. Inside my prison of truth, I write. I alter myself. If people were to look beneath the surface of my writing, if they pushed me a little farther, they would find the truth. They would see things that they wouldn't want to see. I can't escape my prison which is the truth.

My family already thinks I need to see a psychologist. If people ever knew the truth that keeps me prisoner, they wouldn't give me a choice. They would drag me to the vehicle, the chains of truth keeping me from escaping. They would drive me to some professional whether I wanted help or not. I'd be forced to break out of my prison by doing the one thing I can't bear to do. I would have to talk to someone about it.

“The Looks”

By Keri

Some people would look at her and assume she was depressed. Some would have gazed at her and wondered if she was suicidal. Other’s eyes would shoot right through her and there were pairs of many who saw nothing; heads would be beaten in an attempt to remove the disturbance that caused them to hear a whisper created from thin air. They chose to ignore what society considered a castaway child: the grimace, the tired, hate-filled eyes. Skin stretched over concaving ribs, unhealthy complexion, a heart whose owner wished would stop beating… Those people breathed life into her concept of death. She wanted to be stared at like an earthworm squirming under burning sunlight, yet ignored like an oozing ulcer on the prettiest facade. It all pushed her close to the edge, pushed her to her ultimate conclusion that she was unwanted after all…

“Strengths and Weaknesses� by Alicia I was back to this. Sitting in my room, hating so much of my life. What was it this time that had sent me to my room crying? So much pain from all the other times this scenario had played out had reared its ugly head that I wasn't sure. I simply turn my music up louder. I slide open my drawer and grab the sheath with two knives in it. I pull the larger of the two out and lay the flat of the blade on my bare skin. It is cold. It always is. With a sigh, I slide it back into place in the sheath and put it back in the drawer. I've never broken the skin. I doubt I will ever actually cut myself, but there's something about the feeling of cold metal on my skin that makes it easier. Easier to accept that my life is shit. That's the way it has been for as long as I can remember. I sigh and return to my role plays.

My mind races as I role play though. Do I not cut my skin because I'm too weak to handle pain?Or am I strong? I don't feel strong. I feel like glass. Shattered so easily.

I look at my role play character who has scars crisscrossing her arms and I wonder who is truly stronger? Me, the girl who bottles up her emotional pain and throws it on fictional characters who could otherwise be happy? Or is it her? Is she stronger than me because she knows how to release her pain? It may be in a self harming way, but at least she has other characters find out that she needs someone. If you look at me, there is no way you could possibly see just how broken I truly am. The character that loves her can kiss her scars. But no one can kiss my shattered, broken mind. I bet most people would simply reassure me that I'm stronger than my character because I don't self harm.

But maybe what I do is actually worse. I punish fictional characters because others have tormented me. They bear the scars for me. At least two of my characters have scars lacing

their skin. Rel, the alien scientist whose father treated her like a mistake. Chen, the alien girl who was never good enough to please the woman who saved her life as a child. Rel slices her arms willingly. Chen bears the scars of being beaten with a whip for every single mistake she has made since she was a young child. They are the ones who show my scars for me. They get the physical equivalents of the mental scars I have. Is doing that really any better than cutting my own flesh? I torture them physically because I have been tortured mentally. That's not fair. That does NOT make me strong. I am as bad as a bully except for the fact that I control other characters that Rel and Chen put the blame on, never knowing that I even exist. They'll never know that I treat them like my puppets.

How can anyone honestly tell me that I am strong because of that? It is such a cowardly, horrible thing to do. If I manipulated real people like that, others would hate me. So why is it different when the people are in my head? If this is how to be strong when dealing with my life, maybe I would rather be weak sometimes. I don't fell strong when I act like this. I feel weak and worthless. There is no strength ins torturing any body, whether they are real or only in my head.

“Troubles and Woes� by Alicia I came home sadly and walked dejectedly from the bus to my house. I had at least one D and a C or two on my report card. The rest were A's and B's. I already knew that my parents would be disappointed. For the longest time, I'd been a straight A student and they would not be happy to see the D. I came in the house, plopped my back pack on the floor and pulled out my report card. I sat on the couch and listened as they said how disappointed they were in me that I'd gotten a D and the C's weren't too good either. I was relieved that they had simply told me they were disappointed. Unfortunately, I did not know what would happen the next day. I read my Animal Ark book that I had begged for and went to bed.

The next day, I came home from school, walked in the door happily and dropped my back pack to the floor like I usually did. My father smiled at me. He told me that he had gotten me a dog and that he had it behind the shed. All I had to do was go and get my new pet. I flung the door open and ran outside to the shed. I had decided that I wanted to be a vet so that I could work with animals all day because I loved them so much. The thought of finally having a pet of my own, which is something I talked about every day, thrilled me. So, when I saw that the tangled up dead weeds were the only things behind the shed, my heart shattered and the pieces fell to my stomach. I stood and stared for a moment, tears gathering in my eyes. I headed back to the house crying. My dad had stood on the porch the whole time and waited for me.

When I came back, he sat me down on our couch and told me that the way I felt when I did not get a dog was how he felt when I got bad grades. I cried while he finished talking. Once he shut his lying mouth, I got up and headed to the bedroom, still crying. I

knew he was wrong. There was no way my bad grades tore his heart out the way being lied to like that had ripped out mine. My mom comforted me in the bedroom. We both agree that that was a horrible thing to do to me as a young child and it didn't even motivate me to get my grades up. All it did was widen the rift between me and my father.

“Fears and Terrors� by Alicia

When I was a child, if anyone asked me what I was afraid of, I would say that it was the dark. The truth is that I was afraid of my father after dark. During the day, I had my mom to protect me. But once the sun set, she had to sleep. So, I would curl under the blankets and snuggle close to her, hoping that I would wake up the next day. I never knew why I was so sure that dad would kill me in my sleep. He'd never actually hurt me. He had screamed and yelled at me, but he had never hurt me. Sure, he threw things when he got angry, but he had never thrown anything at me. I had never been physically hurt because of my dad. Yet for some reason I was convinced that once the night time hours came, that was different. All through out the day, I would bite my nails and chew on my hair from fear. Most children feared monsters they couldn't see in the dark. My monster had a face.

I knew what I expected. And yet, I feared the dark as well. I was sure monsters would crawl out of the dark crevices of the bedroom to get me. Part of the reason dad was scary in the dark was because he slept most of the day while mom slept at night. That made it easier for my young mind to attach him to the scariness of the night. People never know why they fear the dark. They just do. I do not know why I feared that my father would hurt me in the dark. I just did. My fear was just as irrational as everyone else's fear of the dark. There was no basis for it. But I was still afraid. I know now that it was incredibly senseless, but that doesn't change that it was a frightening thought when I was a child.

“Writing and Reading� by Alicia As a child, I loved to read. Books were my safe haven. If I was upset, I would read and become the main characters in the stories I loved, the problems of my world melting away. They were the perfect escape. As I got into more mature books, I realized that you don't always have the happy ending you want.

That is when I started to write my own stories. I'd create my own worlds and the characters would be under my control. This allowed me to do whatever I pleased. I had one problem though. I got stuck a lot on my own.

I stumbled upon a little thing called role playing on a web site I enjoyed. I joined one and eventually fell in love, joining more and more. I found another website and found role playing happened on it as well. But on this site, you could role play for your favorite shows or books. I started role playing for a TV show I loved. That is when my love of role playing took off. I could do anything! I went through a few role plays. Some lasted longer than others. Eventually, I started role playing with a girl I only know as Shadow. She and I have been role playing together for over a year now.

Role playing brings joy to my life. It has helped me to learn about myself. I've made friends because of it. If I had to stop role playing forever, I would probably not be able to continue living. My role plays are what keep me motivated. Without that motivation, I would fall into the bottomless pit known as depression. If I had not found role playing, I would probably not be here today, typing at my computer. Most people would say that that is an exaggeration. I want to say that this is not true. I would never exaggerate something as serious as this. I write when I am angry. I write when I am sad. I write when I am happy. I write all the time. If I am not writing, then it is probably

because some one is keeping me from doing so and I am most likely unhappy with them from keeping me from what I love. If I am not writing on paper or typing on a keyboard, there are probably story lines running through my head as I untangle them and figure out where they should go in the grand scheme of things. When I write, everything has a purpose in advancing the story to exactly where I want it to go. I like to think I am an amazing writer, but I honestly doubt I am very good. But that doesn't matter to me. I write for myself right now, not other people. I hope to publish a book and inspire others to write. That is when I will care about what other people think. Until then, I will continue to write purely for my happiness. Hopefully one day my works will be seen as inspirational and beautiful.

I love the thought of creating something that others will enjoy and share with their friends. I don't care about the money. It would be nice to be rich, but I already know that if I had a ton of money, I would only give it to charities. Of course I would keep enough for myself, but I would donate to charities so that I could help others. I want to be an inspiration to others. My day will come. Eventually people will see my book on store shelves. I won't stop until it happens. And when it does, I plan to do everything in my power to help others get inspired. The thought of seeing others writing because they look up to me makes my heart glow warmly.

People say that books are going out of style and that being a writer is a very bad choice. I disagree. Books will never be abandoned. As long as creativity is still around, books will be something that people enjoy. And as long as there are books, there will be people who want to write more. It is a simple cycle. I want to be part of this cycle. I want to write so that I can inspire others to write, so that there will always be books for future

generations of readers.

The problem with our society is that people squash each others' creativity. I want to change that. Maybe if I inspire others to be creative, they will support others in being creative. Maybe the people they support will support others and I'll start a chain reaction of humans supporting each other. I want to show that the nice guy does not finish last.

One kind word, one word of support can last a life time. If we show others that supporting others can only bring good into this world, maybe we can make the world a better place.

I never want other people to feel like I've felt. I've been told I would never amount to anything. I want to be the one who says to others that they can reach their dreams as long as they keep trying. I want to show people that there is always a way to reach your dreams and yank them into reality. I intend to be the change that I want to see in my world. I will write about it, I will dream about it, and I will work to make it happen.

Writing is my gateway to my new world. I will inspire others as much as I can. Without others, I may not be able to change the world, but I know there are others like me who will see me trying to change things. They'll do their part, inspired by seeing me. At least, that is what I hope to see as time progresses.

“Love” by Corey Love. The word is thrown around so freely nowadays… humans don’t know the truth; they have hidden themselves in the comforts of the modern age. Impractical means to make their lives easier, simple means of receiving pleasure in exchange for “the fuel of life”. Disgusting. A plague on mother Earth is the parasitic virus that uses her bountiful beauty as the resource, to fill their pockets with their own creation, forgetting their roots in bowing to an alien who states that everything was made for them. A selfish species to create new morals in order to control, forgetting the rules that keep everything together, the single string that ties everything together. When unraveled, everything falls apart. Love. Love is the beauty; it’s the reason why the mother allows her abusive children to use her, the reason we stay. Love is the hope, the happiness, the look to the future with bright eyes, everything we want, but humans don’t seem to understand. Without love, there is no hope. The future is bleak. Their eyes are so clouded with hate… Disgusting.

I’m sorry for that little rant! When I think of those vile creatures, I just can’t seem to control myself! Disgusting pigs… Well, either way, you came here for a story, and I’m here to tell you one, me, the narrator of the story! This is one of the few human tales I can actually bear to tell: it’s a story that stands for everything I stand for, the hope in the blinded eyes of the confused vermin. No matter how disgusting I find the species, I can’t help but to find beauty in their struggle, and their beliefs, how they will stand for what they believe in, their strength. The disgusting race of humans is beautiful. The beauty lies in their emotion, their happiness, their tragedy, and in their demise. This story is centered around the most beautiful emotions humans are allowed to have. It begins in a time where technology was advancing and the beauty dwindled.

The humans spread their wires across the great Earth, attempted to dig deep into the privacy of others and shut themselves out of each other’s hearts. They owned each other and sold everyone to gain more resources and this so-called money. It’s funny; the creation of their own mind used to obtain the resources Mother gives us to use, and yet it is the single most valuable item to humans. At this time of the Earth’s journey, humans shot their grasps of her beauty and explored her outer atmosphere. So much was going on that a single human’s life was as important as a dispensable ant in a colony, yet to the human their life is the most important thing to them, and to their family, and that is beauty. In the human’s world, in the “land of the free” where they tried to control every other human lived a young girl, a girl planted with the seeds of hatred, but wanting to grow the tree of love.

As a child, this young girl was created from the madness of an abusive home.

The father of this house was not abusive to the girl. In fact, she was Daddy’s Little Girl.

Now the mother- she was a different story. This woman has met the cruel fist of dominance all too often and for reasons that don’t make sense: burning that night’s meal, requesting simple household tasks, talking about her despair, then for never being home. This woman was less of a wife than a stress doll. The man relieved all his pain by transferring it to a supposed-to-be-love, a love for 12 years. He even denied the love that existed between them stating he only stayed for the daughter, and only entered the mother’s life for the sex. Growing up in such an environment killed the little girl’s hope, and she no longer believes in love, and why should she? Raised in a

home and told love is a lie, raised to believe in the falsehood of love. Such an emotionally tragic home needs an exit, and luckily for the girl, the mother of the mother provided a refuge especially for that little girl, where the mother of the mother then becomes the mother the daughter. She grew up all right, I guess- still infested with the lie of love, but this affected as the humans call it “social life”. The girl never had a boyfriend, as it was an important ritual of human girls at that age. She didn’t go to parties, or give it up at the first sight of a male as all the other girls did, but she also didn’t open her heart for the possibilities of love, and everyone but her (and me) thought it was despicable for her to give in to temptation… But she didn’t care. She had her eyes fixed on the future and it didn’t include the mistakes most humans make.

Now that’s a human that almost knows the truth, but she does lack the key, and I’m not going on to restate what I believe in like some holy figure; I’m certain you all get the point by now. To continue with the matter at hand, the girl grows up most of the way, but barely makes it out of her teenage years when the unexpected happens to her.

Now from this point of the story on I’m sort of telling it how I see it. I never said the story was set in the past, nor did I say I wasn’t familiar with the characters… I hope you all realize what I am trying to accomplish by writing my observations, and how I know what will happen in the story. Is it not obvious? The dominoes of all been stacked in a certain way to the fall in order, and I truly don’t believe my observations will prove false, judging by the analysis of the characters I’ve made.

The outcome will play out as planned and by the end of this book I will celebrate with a good old-fashioned “I told you so”. See, in the universe, there is a coincidence and synchronicity, and the signs of the story all point to a lesson to be learned so the future does repeat itself, and hopefully the extermination of the human rodents. Now, with back stories and personal beliefs put behind us, the story begins here.

That little human girl I spoke of earlier is not a little girl. At the ripe age of 18, she’s almost ready to take on the world as whatever she wants to be, ready to grab life by the horns and thrust herself forward on the path of human society. Today is an average day in the life of that girl. She wakes up from a lack of sleep on the pull-out couch in her grandmother’s living room, eats breakfast and gets ready to attend school (as humans are forced to be a part of in the community). I’m not going to express the events of that morning as they were rather uneventful, except an altercation with her grandmother called her a “whore” for dark makeup, but that’s just the way of humans.

Nothing really exciting happens to those she arrives at the school, but to her it’s just a normal day (I really need to find out this girls name – I’m getting sick of just calling her “her”!). So here’s where the details start: the girl steps out of her grandmother’s car (hideous contraption), one large shoe after another, stepping directly into a rain puddle from the storm of the night before. Her long dyed hair swings out over her face as her body jerks out of the car, notebooks in hand. Here I should address her appearance, as authors usually do, shouldn’t I? She’s ugly as most humans are but if I were to fall for human, she’d be the one. Starting from her head down: her hair, long locks of multiple colors including shades of blue, purple, and green, with the majority of her hair being black. A fringe covers her forehead, and hides behind her majorly

pierced ear. Her eyebrows are not too thick but not too wispy – they point to corners.

They rest above the most genuine, innocent of eyes – those have a slant and are smaller than most pairs, but you can see the curiosity and remnants of childhood within her blue, damn near white eyes, and the super dark eyeliner doesn’t help them look subtle… A boy could get lost for days in those eyes if she’d let them. Her nose is on the longer side, yet perfectly proportional with her face, and she has pierced nostrils on either side, and they rest above the full lips that aren’t large enough to make her appear as a pin-up, and retain similar innocence as her eyes, though not in the same intensity. They are painted red and have three rings in the bottom and three studs in the top. She has a chin that protrudes slightly. Her body appears full, but not flaunted, and she is quite lanky. She wears a shirt with a white wolf from some videogame humans enjoy playing underneath a large coat with padded shoulders almost to make her look menacing. She is wearing a black fur skirt and fishnets that hide underneath black and white tennis shoes. If her sleeves of her coat were rolled up, they would reveal completely tattooed arms in scenes of forests and cities and massive jewelry such as bracelets and rings of various creatures like dragons, bats and rats. And she wears a ring that completely engulfs her index finger. Even with her darker appearance, boys throw themselves at her feet. They see her as the definition of beauty and not their next target of bullying, which is strange for humans and those who don’t look exactly like them. Females are different – you’ll see if you keep reading on…

Now, how is that for a description? I wanted you to fully understand the feeling of dark friendliness that radiates off of her and how every boy wants to be inside her.

Okay, now back to the story… She stumbles into the school, she shares the snickering of girls behind her that don’t quite agree with the outfit she’s wearing today, but she doesn’t care. She’s better than them (I’ll say – stupid humans). She enters the first class of the day and throws her books down on her desk and slumps in the chair, exhausted and not wanting to be there, but she’s better than everyone else, so she has to be there. The other students start piling in, taking their seats around the girl. Boys mainly try to sit around her as they try their hardest to impress her. It’s a competition to them, to see who can get the hard-to-get girl, to spread her legs first.

She is disgusted by their intentions, but pushes her feelings aside, agreeing with my belief that humans are all the same. Yet, she treats them all as if they’re her best friends, and this is why all the girls think she’s a slut.

A boy next to her, the average looking jock wearing a tank top, spiked up hair, has a muscular body, and he’s reeking of overpowering, probably expensive cologne asks her, “Hey Mariah, want to hang out sometime?”

Mariah is her name! Wow, she does not look like a Mariah – I’d say more like Abigail, or maybe just Sam. I can see a more traditional goth-like name like Agatha, Magnus, or Cassandra… Something like that, or along those lines, but Mariah was unexpected.

“Maybe sometime,” Mariah replied with a smile. She’s sending out all the wrong signals, making that jock think that he has a chance of her. A blonde haired, overly “gorgeous” looking cheerleader scoffs with a wide-open smile as if to say “what!?”

Maria just keeps to herself, and you could tell by the look she gives the she is thinking “she’s probably pregnant and wants him to fuck her”. She did not want to be there. I know if I was there, I would’ve probably columbined the whole class. The next classes

were again the same thing as all the other things, constantly getting hit on and resenting everyone around her, but treating them all with the respect she doesn’t receive.

Toward the end of the day, she did her usual activities of sitting in the middle of the hallway, and reading various poems. Today she was enjoying Lord Byron. Reading to herself, practically sprawled across the floor, forcing people to walk in between her arms, legs and sides. Her skirt was over her legs in such a way that if someone wanted to sneak a peek, they could, and I’m sure they did. She got so caught up in her reading that she didn’t see the telltale signs of a storm outside and never noticed till a large crack of thunder shook her out of her obsessions.

“Oh shit!”

Mariah’s grandmother… she probably won’t be too happy with Mariah being out in the rain, but I don’t understand why: rain is beautiful, and the best weather of mother Earth. Mariah grabbed her stuff from out of her locker and ran through the hallways to the front door of the school. As soon as she took one step outside, she was instantly drenched, and the rain began taking her hair out of the elaborate style it was in, her makeup began running down her face. She ran down the streets along the fences and tree lines that made it seem darker than it was outside. Wow, it is really beautiful; an autumn day in the rain, leaves floating down puddles to sewer grates...

Simply gorgeous. As Mariah was running, she stopped dead in her tracks, seeing something strange out of the corner of her eye.

A boy about her age, dancing in the giant puddles created from the uneven streets, playing with dead leaves as they fell into his hands with rain. He looks truly happy. Mariah stops and stares for a moment, watching the boy dance until he stops and looks in Mariah’s direction. They locked eyes for a moment, and for an instant, a spark is set between the two, and you could see butterflies squirming in Mariah’s stomach, but the look in her eyes changed as she realized that her love was a lie. She dismissed the feeling she just received for the first time, turned her head and continued running down the path. The boy sat down in the middle of the street, legs partly crossed with his arms laying lifeless over them, a dazed look on his face. The first domino falls…

Mariah ran along the line of fence but soon her pace slowed, almost as if she was thinking. She turns into the alley that leads her to her hidden apartment building, the path overrun with plants and trees. She walks into the hallway, water and mud dirtying the once perfectly clean and shiny, black and white tiled floor in the narrow “lobby” of the apartments. It’s basically just the stairwell, judging how small it is in size, with black stairs that that lead upstairs and down, as the usual case of apartments. She takes off her shoes and socks to reveal her overly tattooed feet and makes her way upstairs. You can see the look in her eyes, the dread of walking into her apartment to be greeted by an angry old grandma. She walks past the first floor of two doors on opposite sides embedded into the wall, and a different color than the other, and she makes it up to her third floor, key in the black door. She opens the door and prepares for war…

When she opens the door, a big black and white cat jumps on the shelf right next to the door to greet her master. The cat acted as if it hadn’t had attention in over an hour. Such a cute kitty! I would play with it all day. This was enough evidence to

denounce her fears. Ignoring the cat (I’d never!), she strips off her clothes… this is the point in which I look away. So Mariah is in the shower now… And there’s no way I’m describing her actions as she’s in the shower – I’m not one of those disgusting human perverts- old men with their white vans. Ah, this is quite awkward… Tell me about yourself; I truly want to know, I mean, I love everyone… Wait, I hear a key in the door…

A traditional older woman with an air off of her that she’s quite snooty enters, takes one look at the pile of wet clothes on the floor, and one at the wet black and white kitty rolling around on it. It brought a sneer to the woman’s face that said “as soon as that girl gets out of the bathroom, she’s going to wish she had taken a longer shower”. This lady scares me – I mean just by looking at her, you can tell she’s a bitch, and unfortunately for Mariah, her shower ended when her grandmother’s rage had not yet waned.

“What’s this?” The grandma asks. Mariah blows her off, almost as if she knew her grandma was going to be quite rude, all the while retaining her composure.

“What’s this? What’s this? There is magic in the air!” Mariah sings to herself, unable to hold herself back.

“Mariah! I asked a question; what the hell is this!?” Grandma’s voice started to sound like a screeching bird.

“That… is a cat.” Rhyming the words, a surprised look shot across her face that said that even she was surprised by such a snappy response.

The grandma’s look went from anger to hatred and the screeching bird turned into a pterodactyl. “I let you live in my house, and you do nothing for me! All I get is disrespect!”

“Hey, that rhymed,” Mariah interjected (wow, she’s being snappy!).

“Get out! Get the fuck out!”

Mariah throws the door open, causing all the various magnets and papers connected to the door to fly off and litter the floor as the door opens. Several doors of nosy neighbors close, but not fast enough for Mariah not to notice. She slams the door behind her as hard as she can to let other neighbors and her grandmother know to not mess with her. Damn, I don’t want to follow her since she obviously needs to be alone, but this is the lesson that humans need to learn. Mariah, as pissed as ever, jumps off the stoop of her apartment and turns around to face the attempt at a dark modern contemporary palace of the 90’s. Middle fingers held high, full rebellion spirit. She walks around the back of the looming prison and climbs the island tree, separate from the sea of trees, pulling herself up each branch and unfazed by the numerous lacerations she’s receiving to her bare and muddy feet as if she doesn’t feel it. When she gets to her special branch, she sits and sighs. I don’t like it when someone is sad! I just want to give her a hug…

“She only fucking thinks of herself,” Mariah says to herself, and you can see the pain in her innocent eyes… You know this is something she has dealt with even worse for a lot of her life. It’s the reason she reacted drastically. Actually it was for the better that she reacted the way she did. It cut things short before they can escalate to worse conditions and worse punishment than sitting alone in the rain on tree branch, in a pair of Grateful Dead sleep pants, and a large T-shirt with some tool company that her dad probably worked at one point or another.

“All I want is to be loved,” Mariah sighed. It must be awful to be treated like a delinquent when you are truly a wonderful person, especially by someone who you love with all your heart. It’s quite beautiful, yet melancholy outside – the sun barely pushed through the clouds causing shades of grey to paint everywhere save the shadows that the apartment doesn’t engulf. The rain slowed down to a light drizzle. You can tell Mariah wants to enjoy it, but the pain of her life will not allow her.

As the sun finally started to set, Maria pushed herself off of the tree, and attempted to land on her feet, but the soggy ground below her caused her landing to be off. She fell on her hands and knees and sunk into the ground, and was now covered in mud. She got up, brushing off a majority of the mud, but failing to get it all. She worked her way to the front of the apartments and at the stoop with her hand on the front door. She pauses before going inside.

“Never a breath you can afford to waste.” She walks up the poorly lit hallway but when she gets to the final set of stairs, the mud on the bottom of her feet and the water on the face of the stairs joined together and caused the foot to fall off from on top of them, sending Mariah down the steps and crashing into the door of apartment 2A. She just lay there, until the resident of the apartment opens the door and releases several kittens that all at once pounce on top of her. This immediately brought a smile to Mariah’s face (and mine too).

“You okay?” said a smiling man. He looked young, as if he were fresh out of college.

“Yeah, yeah… I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“I’m new,” The man says. “I’m surprised you don’t know new tenants, with your grandmother being the superintendent and all.”

The smile leaves Mariah’s face. “She never talks to me.” She collects herself, stands up, then collects the kittens.

“I thought I heard you guys arguing earlier?” A falsely confused look is on his face.

“That’s all there is…” Mariah’s voice contained signs of annoyance. She hands the kittens to the man, then attempts to walk on stairs again, this time a bit more carefully.

“Well bye,” the man calls to her, but she plays it off as if he was too quiet to be heard. Finally defeating the treacherous stairs, she collects her award of being able to reenter her home. Grandmother was now eating dinner; a plate of potatoes and noodles. There was another set aside on the counter. Mariah picks this up, knowing it’s hers, and sits next to her grandmother. Her grandma’s eyes didn’t leave the copy of The Great Gatsby she was reading. Mariah’s sad eyes don’t leave her grandmother’s silhouette. Picking up her fork without even looking at what she was doing, she sets it in her food. Mud now mixes with her potatoes, and her eyes followed the fake vines that scaled the kitchen cupboards.

“I’m sorry, grandma.” Mariah’s voice sounded sincere, but the grandma responds with “if you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done it – you getting fucking mud everywhere!”

Mariah looks down. “Dammit!” Is the only word she can say. Grandma snaps.

“Go clean yourself up.”

“But I’ve already taken a shower.”

“I don’t care.” Grandmother’s eyes never left The Great Gatsby the entire conversation. Mariah’s hands push against the table to the chair allowing her body to slide away. Standing up, she walks into the bathroom to shower again.

With Maria out of the way, grandma cleans up the mess her granddaughter made, then puts the food away.

Thirty minutes later, Maria exits the bathroom, now dressed in dark paisley sleep pants and a Depeche Mode shirt that’s about three sizes too big for her. She makes her way back to the kitchen where she notices that there is no food out.

“I guess I’m not eating tonight,” she said. She turns her attention away from the kitchen to the hallway leading to the bathroom and her grandmother’s room. Her eyes on her feet, stepping on her large pant legs that trail behind her. She opens her grandmother’s door, and says “I love you grandma” into the darkness. Her response was only a snore, and she decided that that was probably the best choice for her too.

Maybe she went to bed early, the few minutes of sleep she actually got every hour of the night would add up to enough sleep to function on the next day.

Lying under her giant blue dream catcher, she says good night to the world, and her big cat jumped on her to cuddle as they try to sleep.

Am I the only one to notice how many cats live in this apartment? It makes me so happy – all cute and everything... Spending lazy days laying around or fighting ghosts, protecting their owner from unseen forces, and what about outside cats? Who can tell what adventures they go on… On my next narration I should follow the life and times of an outside cat, but that isn’t the story. Why you guys letting me get so distracted!?

The sun shows its face in the creaks and cracks of the living room blinds and painting Mariah’s (man I don’t like her name…) fase with a glow. I’m certain some of the rays seeped into her eyes as she was instantly awoken. Her cat was no longer by her side.

“Shit!” I’m confused, why so frantic? Although, I get it, normally the sun does arise until after Mariah’s in school so she’s frantically getting ready for that? School?

I’ll never understand humans. Either way, Mariah scurries to get her clothes on, keeping it simple this time: just a pair of black jeans wrapped tightly around her thin legs, and a dark purple flannel. She didn’t bother with her hair or makeup, and she runs out the door, leaping over each step in an attempt to boost her speed when in all reality it just slows her down. Throwing the front door open and running into another storm, she dashed to the school. Wow, she’s got good luck today – not only is she late, but she has to sit in a class in drenched clothing. Personally, I’d just go naked. Making her way through the outlet to the labyrinth of streets that lead to hell, the rain still pouring… Wait, wasn’t it sunny earlier? This town has some really confusing weather.

When she finally makes it to the front door of her school, she attempts to open it. With no success, she pushes her sight into the glass, and notices that all the lights are off. All that effort for nothing…?

“Really?!” Mariah was annoyed. As she slumps around in her frustration, a face appears in the reflection of the glass doors to the school.

“Looks dark in there,” says the face.

“Yeah, I guess there’s no school today,” Mariah said.

The face was now pressed against the glass. “I was wondering why I couldn’t get in… Well I didn’t really try to; I saw someone else attempt to get in… I had better things to do.” This guy spoke differently than all the others – he actually didn’t treat her as some cheap whore like the other girls. Intrigue sparked in Mariah’s eyes.

“Better things?” Mariah could finally see his appearance, and her intrigue evolved into fascination. It was the same face as the one dancing in the rain yesterday.

Would you like me to describe him as I did earlier with Mariah? Top to bottom? Light brown hair and it’s only a bit longer than the average male, covering his forehead and covering the top of his ears, nothing too impressive about his face, except he was gorgeous! If I were to fall for a human, he’d be the one! Despite his normal appearance, the way he held himself was a completely against the mainstream. He held himself high, with great posture and firm stature. He was calm and collected, yet there was a goofy air about him but in a calm way. He is better than these humans, and he knows it. His thick neck over thin yet extended chest covered in a white shirt that states “I long for you to hold me like your boyfriend does”, over blue pants well too tight for him, and on his feet were sandals.

“Yeah, I love the rain,” the face says, extending his arms in the pose of Jesus to let the rain fall upon his bare arms.

“I do too, but the rain only started like 20 minutes ago. If there was school today it would’ve started a few hours ago.”

“There’re still puddles from the storm yesterday and the night before. It’s been raining a lot lately…” The scene was a beautiful one, the sun completely hidden by dark clouds and rain falling on unfazed bodies. “It has, but that’s for the better,” Mariah said, moving under her foot a stick that floated down the stream created by the rain.

“Well if it rains for 40 days…” The face begins to say, but Mariah cuts him off with fake annoyance in her voice.

“God, I hate Christianity.” The face smiles then says, “I can’t hate it; I mean it is about me.”

“About you?” Mariah has a confused look on her face as she turns her head, rain dripping off of her long hair.

“I’m Jesus?” They both laughed. Another domino falls. Maria’s smile grows warmer, her eyes sparkle in the rain.

“I’m sorry, I’m not well dressed be in the presence of a lady,” the face says with an elegant bow. Under her breath, Mariah whispers “here we go…” And her smile fades till she has a disappointed look on her face.

“I mean first impressions are everything, that’s why I wear this outfit. I want their kids to think of me as a freak, but you’ve got that down pretty well, they probably have known you longer. Have you eaten a baby in front of them?” This caused the return of the warm smile as Mariah picked up the cryptic sarcasm.

“Oh yeah, I brought baby-stew in for show and tell. And your shirt speaks pretty loudly for you.” As she says this, the face puts the shirt away from his chest and gives a giant, teeth showing smile.

“So what do you go by, friend?”

Mariah’s smile is still on her face as she says “Mariah’s the name, but I prefer to go by Mare.” (That’s better! I’m going to stop calling her Mariah now!). With great flourish the face bows and states, “Walter, at your service, but I prefer to be called

Waltharius. You know, you really don’t look like a Mariah. Whatever gave you that name is an idiot, but I guess I can work with Mare.” His voice was soothing and slow, and calm despite how goofy the words were. It was almost as if he should be saying something else with such a voice. Firm and confident, yet smooth and calm.

Mare’s soft voice breaks in. “She truly is… So, you go to my school now.”

“Well now it’s my school, I plan on taking control of it. It’s all part of my world domination plan.Waltharius’ confidence makes it sound as if he’s being serious.

“Well I’m going to go back to tending to the rain now. I’ll see you around my school sometime. Later, Nightmare” and just like that, the face disappears into the newly formed fog. As soon as the face’s out of sight, Mare does a triumphant dance, wiggling and shaking her body.

“I saw!” The unmistakable voice pierced through the fog. Mare was a bright shade of red. She then ran into the fog into the labyrinth of streets to find a way back home.

She finds herself on the path that leads directly to her apartment but peeking through the trees, she didn’t see her grandmother’s Volkswagon bug. Mare stands in front of the stoop of her apartment. The building was standing over her, as if it wants to lean over, to whisper in her ear and share the secrets and hidden activities of the tenants inside, but Mayor was too distracted to listen now – she was beaming with positive energy that even the trees around her picked up on it brightened their moods.

Reaching for the glass entrance of the nosy building, she changes her mind and takes the side dirt path to the backyard and then to climb her lonely tree, but this time the positive energy in her forced her to not stop on her “thinking branch” but to climb farther up. Carefully grabbing a branch above her and setting her foot delicately on another, Mare finally found herself where only birds perch- a lone branch resting on the roof of the apartment building as if it were being patted on its head for being a tattletale. Mare stands where this branch connects to the tree. There are no other branches to hold onto for another six and a half feet, well out of Mare’s reach. The bridge itself extends about eight feet and tapers off to the roof, becoming barely big enough for a bird to stand on it. Mare took one look below and swallowed hard. If she were to fall here, she could be seriously injured or worse. It would be the end of the story, no lesson being taught. Oh, you better be careful, Mare!

The rain lets up but never stops and it no longer resembles night. Being unable to hold herself back, she takes one step on the bridge, scooting herself slowly across, not letting her feet escape the wooden surface. Her feet were gliding on the rainwater that delicately coated the branch, and she moves her hand towards the roof. There is no way she could stretch her legs far enough to even touch the edge of that roof! Mare forces her weight down on the branch, forcing it to bow, and then realizing her weight above her, she leaps off of the branch, lands on the direct edge of the building. The tree branch breaks and falls to the ground and Mare loses her balance, waving her arms in circles trying to balance herself! Oh no! A gust of wind pushes against Mare’s back giving her enough forward momentum to trust herself forward, and she lands on her stomach but completely on the roof. Thank God! The rough black shingles of the roof scrapes hands to congratulate her for a stupid decision, yet Mare’s grateful for making it. Breaking the branch… She won’t be a will to get on the apartment again, but she enjoys the time she is able to spend up here.

Absorbing the knowledge from the apartments head, and watching the rain clouds float through the sky. The moon comes out to greet her, almost glowing as bright as she was.

When the time came that Mare feared her grandmother would come home and catch on the roof, she decides to go back inside the hungry home. When she turns around, she notices that the bridge to her ladder has fallen. There was no way to the ground below which meant no way into the building except…

“The window,” Mare shouted with hopeful eyes, finding her footing towards the edge of the roof, holding a window hostage beneath it. She was certain that this was the window that led her to her living room. She popped her head over the edge of the building to confirm that she would be entering the right apartment. The blinds were close but they were undoubtedly her blinds. She turned herself around, and the rough shingles caught her wet shirt causing her stomach to be revealed. She pushes herself back allowing her feet to dangle off the edge. She scooted herself further and further off the building until the edge was on her stomach, and she could bend her spine to allow her to aim her legs vertically over the windowsill below her. Using all the strength of her arm, she pulls her chest up, and off the edge of the roof. Still trying to retain her position, she lets her arms fall, but commands herself to stay strong.

Bending her foot down attempting to touch the windowsill with her toes, but just missing the target that she can't quite reach. With no confidence whatsoever, Mayor allows her group to rest and she went softly so below, and nearly falling. She stares at the old-fashioned window for a moment, then pushes it in… Entering through the eyes of the building…

Well folks, I'm sorry, but at this point I'll have to leave with a good oldfashioned…

TO BE CONTINUED…

“The Mind Unattended”

By Keri Sometimes, there are those dreary nights that creep into morning, and in those crawling minutes that mold into hours, a restless mind lurks in the dark. Its physical counterpart dances with anxiety in its half-slumber, confused, dazed and agitated at themselves. The mind is a dangerous tool, especially in the hands of a retired, welltrained pessimist, a pessimist who shows up only on these dreary nights. Old times and faded days come clawing back, and the subconscious welcomes them with open arms.

However, the person who was once the owner of this demented illusion does not necessarily return. Perhaps a shadow, a phantom of their self reflection is all that it is…

But it’s certainly enough.

Those nights are long and hard. Unnecessary words are spoken, feelings are crushed and thrown about an upcoming storm of chaos that is the atmosphere around the person that decides to tear themselves apart. Thoughts grow ceaseless, a constant, consistent echo that burns into rage. More tossing and turning, were kicking and screaming, asking why and what for? The complete frailty of the human heart and mind revealed at last!

Some things can’t be helped. Some thoughts are better left alone to fight, fend for themselves only to die in the pandemonium, a place where bad ideas fall into suicide, slide into their own bed of murder. Let them put their own fire out… But the damage is done. After those few minutes of grueling hours, after the breakdown of an individual, slicing decomposition of the said individual’s very existence in life itself, what is left is a hollow shell with no conclusions, a numb emotional core, no flame, no luster, and a clean slate for the darkness to come seeping back in.

Those dreary nights are the worst, especially if one has to fight alone and for themselves in that dark.

Born As an Woman By: Tyeisha 1,2&4 Everything in my life has been bullshit. Like when my parents fight and beat up each other, taking care of my sisters , going to school to front like nothing is wrong, and maintaining an household. Since I was 11 years old I been a grown woman not a teenager or a child. I lost my mom mentally not physically. I see and talk to her everyday but I can’t stand too even see her or talk to her. My mom wanted the street life over her family: 3 beautiful daughters and her husband. She wanted her freedom, drugs, and her suga daddy. I remember cold freezing nights with no food in the house while dad was at work. We were home alone waiting for someone to save us. My parents were married for 12 years before all the happen. What I don’t understand is how in the hell can you say an old friend come in town, says little sweet things in your ear and ya’ll in love. What the fuck! I was daddy’s little girl but, I never told him one bit about happen while daddy’s at work. Things like mom got another man in the house in their bedroom or I seen mom kiss another man. Once everything hit the fan daddy became a different man; a man of violence, cursing and drinking more. Daddy lost his jobs to try to catch momma creeping. When he did it was on and crackin’. There were bloody lips, knots on forehead, black eyes, broken glass and 3 crying helpless girls. All these action they did to each other. But I am wondering why my fucking parents, why me and my sisters?

All of this lasted for 8 months. I then turn seen my personality changing; bad grades, cursing, not going to school, violent and being disrespectful to my elders and peers. I started sleeping with knives and the phone under my pillows in case my parents get to fighting, I’ll threaten to cut them so me and my sisters could sleep.

It was this one night I will never forget my dad and mom got into it, my dad slap my mom in the mouth, he left going outside to his car and someone came from the backyard with a baseball bat started beating my dad. My mom ran outside and locks me in the house. She knew I would have of ran out there to try to fight and, she knew who it was that why she lock the door. I was helpless to my dad now because he was fucking drunk. I just cried so my dad can get away and won’t be hurt badly. As soon as I yelled

his name through the window my dad stood up and started beating the dumb ass. All the drugs and alcohol couldn’t keep him down. My mom was getting mad because that weak ass suga daddy of here was getting his ass beat the fuck out of. After the fight was broken up when the police arrive, I couldn’t believe who it was. It was Country Joe. All the cursing and crying stopped. Joe has been a close friend to my dad and mom for years. He was even their suppler for the drug habits: crack- cocaine. When my dad started stomping him, Joe pulled out a 9 mm hand gun and pulled the trigger at least 8 times. I prayed that nothing came out. November came I had enough, I moved with my granny and cousin Tiara. I became very worried, depressed, and very heart broken. The heart broken came from leaving my sisters with my mammy. I didn’t have respect for her has a woman or mother. She eventually moved into an apartment with Joe and my sisters.

She took everything out of the house even things that was my dad’s. She left his big screen TV and an unusable bed. When I went to get my things that house was so empty and cold. No food, dishes, furniture or not even a picture. My dad disappeared for weeks. I called, called, called but no answer. I thought he was somewhere getting drunk or high. I told myself I will never go back to that house no more.

At granny’s everything was better but, she was never there. She was either at work or bingo. I am glad I left there because I would have ended up like my cousin Tiara. She didn’t finish her senior year, got pregnant and living from check to check. I was still doing terrible in school. Granny forced me to go to my mammy house on the weekends so I won’t be home alone.

I hated to go over there because of Joe, just the sound of his voice make my stomach curl. But then I was happy because I get see my sisters Tamar and Taliara. When I was there they were at peace. It seem like they didn’t sleep at all because the whole day. They would follow me everywhere I go and do whatever I do. When it was time for me to go I had to wait for them to go to sleep to leave. They world scream from the top of their lungs when I left.

I felt real bad because I couldn’t do anything about it. I say in February my dad started to get his self together. He started calling me more often and even wanted me and my sister to start coming over on the weekends. He started working at his new job. But I knew he was still drinking and getting high because I knew how he sound when he was intoxicated. Our mom wouldn’t let us go over there till she approve of his house, if it was livable.

Bitch please like your house any better, junkies knocking all fucking night.

Whenever I did talk to my dad I cherished every moment of it because it will be weeks before I talk to him again. My dad drinking got really bad. He went to jail one week for a DUI then two weeks later he got another one.

When we finally did start going over there he would curse us out for whatever my mammy did to him he blamed us. I can’t stand the smell of the liquor when I was over there. Then like it times when he is sober he will listen to gospel music and get drunken start getting all emotionally. I hated that because that’s when the naming started to come. Over at my dad’s house was not fun no favorite foods, our own beds or cable. Whatever weekend we were over there is was like going to hell and back. All we heard was, “Fat muthafucka”, “Go stay with Country Joe and your cracked headed ass mammy”, “Ya’ll so fucking stupid”. That really hurts to an 11, 3, and 2 year old kids. We weren’t meant to be here, it’s not our fault for this bullshit. Over at my mammy house people knocking at the doors all night long, can’t eat what you want, being yelled at constantly and can be upstairs. I guess coming down stairs was a sin because you got the worst out in the world. I couldn’t wait till Sunday came so I go home to granny’s house. I just knew since she been with Joe her attitude was changing her walk, her voice and even has his face expressions. That was very disgusting to even look at her that’s how bad it was.

When it was time to lay my head down where it was peace at, I use to cry myself to sleep or listen to music all night long. Those were my personal time just for me, me, and me. During this time in my life I became in lover of the rapper Plies. He creates music that people can really relate too. His music is the same as the everyday struggle. Everything he rapped about I was going through. My favorite songs are Pressure, Family Straight, Somebody love you baby, 2nd Chance, Pressure, Da Muscle, 1 day, Why you hate me and more. His music takes me to another place. I feel free from all the hell in my life. When I hear his voice I think about nothing but him or being in another world. I feel like I am on cloud 9 or walking on butter.

Then I was so attached to the music that I feel in love with him. I thought if I would make myself look mature that he will come for me. I started caring about myself more like the way dress, my hair, my talk and my walk. At home I got to sleep and dream about him, and what he can do for me. I became very obsessed with my baby Plies. I know everything about him, I

know his full name, age, birth place, favorite color, foods, cars, birthday, sports, where he live at, and his jewelry. Since I was in the 6th grade Plies, Plies, Plies all I think about. I am junior in high school and I still got the same love for him. I get very piss of when people try to talk shit about him. When I graduate I plan to move to Florida to find him. All I want to do is hug him and tell him thank you for making music people and me can relate to. All the bad days at home with taking care of my sisters, no good mammy, alcoholic dad and that bullshit of the everyday struggle. I really want to thank him for the songs to describe the love he have in a girl. It seems like he was talking about me or rapping every song to me. I think after that I might let him go. Plies is like that childhood lover that you know you won’t never get to have, but I have faith I think I will have him.

My real strength came from was my heavenly father God. He was the one to stop those bullets from coming out of that, keeping me and my sister’s safe, there with my every step I took. I have really created a relationship with God and thanking him every day. I wish I had someone to tell me about him. I was raised to go to church every Sunday. Basically church was an elective that I didn’t anything about. I wasn’t paying attention to what the preacher was preaching, or I didn’t know how to use a bible. As long as I’m living and have breathe in my body I shall and will continue to praise him. Within 7 years I have became a different person. I learn how to fight and stay prayed up. I learn how to not let the devil take control over my life. When things look bad don’t cry or stress about it , just praise God. Also I learn how to keep living and let the stress go. This battle is not mines, it’s the Lords. My favorite saying is “God won’t give you too much to handle”. I love that because that let me know I was a purpose in this situation. Stress is devil way to kill you. That almost killed me but, I reached to God. Today I am still going through situations with my mom and dad. They have been divorced for 7 years I think. My relationship with my mom is very rocky. We are like cats and dogs, bird eating a worm, peanut butter with no jelly, kool- aid with no sugar. If we are in a room longer than 10 minutes, we argue. She doesn’t understand. Why she just can’t apologize? She feels like she doesn’t owe me anything. Fuck that you owe me a lot I’ve been playing a role as a mother for my sisters, that’s your fucking responsibilities

not mine. When will my life start, when will I have freedom, when will I be credited for the things I did that I didn’t have to do? Then my dad he drinks everyday, without he can’t function. He’s shaky, mean, cold hearted, and very emotional. The things I do for him, he’s really blessed to have me in his life. I cook, clean, take care of my sisters and him too. I have thrown birthday parties for them, grocery shopping, driving, going to school and paying bills. I still get talk to like a bitch. I worry about his drinking a lot. It’s times I won’t do nothing on the weekends just to watch so he won’t drink and drive, what if he gets liver cancer, or what will I do if we lose him. Just 2/5/2013 he got his 3rd DUI within 4 years. Now he’s facing prison time. I hope he don’t have to do anytime, but then do so he can learn his lesson.

My dad is soft at times. People can peer pressure him easily. If somebody call for an ride he say, “Man I don’t go no gas”, they replied,” I buy you drink”. I remember when he tried to stop drinking. It only lasted for 5 days with all the coughing, shakes, sore throat, throwing up and meanness. He talking about it’s a cold, no fool it called WITHDRAWLS dumb ass. I can go to my friend house around and come back he drunk. It doesn’t take much for him to get full (Drunk). Only one pint of gin and ooooooo he’s gone. I just hope he can get his self together for the sake of me and my sisters, hell the family period. I want to go to college not worry about my dad and my sisters. I just don’t want to get that phone call to have to bury my daddy. I will be 18 less than 9 months and when I do turn 18 I’m going to treat myself REAL good. I want to graduate and travel the country and be young, wild, and free. I want to be the life of the party, jumping off of cars, riding bulls, getting CHOCOLATE wasted. Just to have freedom from when I was 11 years old up to 18. I want to do my high school life over again so I can play sports, run for homecoming, prom queen, going to the games, and just do the damn thing. Since I’m daddy’s little angel that’s going to be hard to just leave and be away from them. I think that’s why I am so attach because I think I owe him from when the affair started with my parents. I knew it was Joe, I knew where she meet him at, I knew mom plan to divorce dad, I knew momma was doing wrong but I still called the police on you but, I didn’t know it was going to fuck up the family or that it was going to be a fucked up life for me. Now, when I look at my mom she’s a totally different person. I remember the big boned lady, glowing brown skinned, silky long black hair, and that beautiful smile. Today my mom looks like a zombie. She looks like a tornado came through and blew the air out her body. Her eyes

look like Mike Tyson hit her, her silky black hair is now short burnt grey, that beautiful smile is now an frown. I remember people even family said, “The devil gone have a fun day with here”. They was exactly right Before the divorce of my parents my mom works for the school corporation. When she left she had took everything, now everything she had was gone. No apartment, car, job, family, valuable things to her.

Nothing, her helpless ass was dead broke. Joe wore her ass out that’s what that was. He not a man, if he was he would have hustle for you. All she had is a room at my granny’s house and 2 daughters and sometimes me. Other than that she won’t succeed in life unless she admits her wrongs and apologize to my dad for what she did. My dad apologizes for what he did to her. I think because that was just because he still loves my mom. My mom said he gone always loves her just because but, she loves him to. When my dad has a new girlfriend she tries to come back home. Every time my dads fall for it and get heartbroken because the streets were calling her. Joe, the drugs and being kids free. My dad really changed after my mom left. He’s been clean from crack cocaine for 8 years now but, I just hope he doesn’t relapse. He moved on with his life and I think that’s why he quit using because he and mom use to get high together. My dad moved on all right because he got the house remodel. Mom smoked cigarettes a lot so painting was done, new furniture, carpets, new bathroom, windows and new car. Dad got new job and pays real good. We had everything we need and want at home (daddy’s house). No more mom house on the weekend because there’s no more moms house. My dad got full custody of us because she wasn’t able to care for herself so, she couldn’t for us.

Through this journey I really met nice good people; my 5th grade teacher Mr. Mercer. He was my main supporter. He help a lot, he made sure I was taking care of. He was the one to encourage me to move in with my granny. When I was down he made me smile. I loved to go to his class but I just hated getting up for school. My other main supporter was my 6 th grade teacher Mrs. Maskiu. She loves me a lot. I talk to her everyday and still do. I and she had each other back, I was the teacher asst. I was known for momma T in the class to. She help helped me get back on track with those straight A’s I used to get back in elementary school. I had high honor roll my whole 6th grade year with her. We most definitely had the talks

about everything. She continued to help me through the rest of middle school. Unfortunately Mr. Mercer left to another school. I love those two with all my heart. The word friends didn’t exist to me. I only had 1 friend and that was my best friend Sabrina. We were just alike and our stories are kind of the same. We had each other back through thick and thin we were there.

After writing this short story bio I feel good. I use to be ashamed, now I’m proud of my life. My life made me who I am as a person. It gave me my personality. People tell me all the time I have a blessing coming. I believe it because all that I’ve done, won’t no child did what I did. I will be patiently waiting for my blessing because it’s coming. I am glad to still be here and still standing. When I look in the mirror I still see the inner child within. All I do is cry or laugh about. Its times when I act like a big kid and I get yelled at about but I just blow that off. What I want to say is shut up and leave me alone. I look at my sisters I pat myself on the back. I raised 2 girls that are beautiful, smart, and caring, I thought them good manners and be respectable at all times. They tell me all the time how thank for they are to have in their life. I get emotional because I have so much love for them. I care so much about them. I always tell them I refuse to let them go through what I went through; I want to have what I didn’t have growing up.

I want them to enjoy they life why can. Sometime I get jealous but I get right over it. Sometimes it’s hard but I take it one day at a time. People tell me all the time how good of job I do and how proud. I’m proud to because I could have been the one in the streets, pregnant, drop out but, God has an plan for me, he is still working on me. I feel refresh letting all this out. I want to help someone that probably going through the same thing I went through. It helps if you know someone out there went through the same thing you going through now. I’m glad I took Creative Writing to express the way I feel. I reached out and got my help which was taking this class.

Another lady in my life I love dearly is my granny Annice, my dad’s mom. I really didn’t know her well like I do now till my parents’ divorce. We grew an relationship that’s is unbreakable. She cracks me up man. I love my granny dearly too man because of her we have a home that paid for. She’s the reason why won’t’ leave South Bend because of her. She wants me to too take care of my sisters, dad and out home so when she comes back to South Bend.

My home we currently live in is our family house. My dad was born and raised in this house, me too. This house is my dad’s grandmother Helen house a.k.a Bamps. She past just a year before I was born, she died from cancer. Everybody say her spirit is in me. I look just like here, walk like here and even talk just like here. My granny Annice tells me, “Bamps will be so proud of her grandma baby”. I know she would be to because I get real emotionally about here. I go to the cemetery to her grave and thank her for the strength she put in me to wake up and keep going. Now that I think about God took her because God was bringing another angel to this word to take over here position. Bamps is my guardian angel and I’m glad. She was a giving and helping person just as I am now. I really wish I could have met her, I know I would have loved her a lot. My life wasn’t any regular child life. I have seen a lot of things and I have been tested for a lot of things also. One thing I did do was stand the test. I know my abilities of what I can do. I was born for a purpose in this life time. Who knows maybe in another life time I was woman of courage and played the role of being a mother? I love my life to where I wouldn’t want to go back a change not one bit.

Me, my sisters, dad, mom, my granny Annice and aunt Fuddie

“Amnesia Cycle” by Keri Found Poem

By Keri I’m drowning in an ocean of memories and can’t reach the surface Digits claw at tomorrow And are weighed down by the chains of yesterday Unreachable, undefined Desired and yearned for.

I’m suffocating in what I used to be Beaten and unrecognizable Undesirable A punching bag that must’ve been worth hitting.

I’m choking on the luxury of sweet liquor I want to forget who I was apparently who I will be My punishment is self-inflicted Unintentional, unforgiving.

I’m sinking in a life that I can’t recall A home of my own the wife of my own Children, friends They remember me, but I can’t remember them I’m forced to forget.

I’m drowning.

Day in the Life of John Stillworth, the Anterograde Amnesia Victim 6:30 AM – My alarm goes off. I wake up next to a beautiful blonde, a child and two babies. The woman has a ring on her finger. I don’t know who she is.

6:42 AM – I learned that the woman is my fiancé of eight months. Her name is Catherine. Why can’t I remember her? She tells me that everything will be okay, and that she loves me very much. She’s gone through this routine before; everything sounds recited…

I wish I love her too.

6:46 AM – Fiancé picks up the babies and leaves the room. The child in the bed also gets up and leaves the room, but before that, he looks at me funny. What have I done?

6:49 AM – Get out of bed. Something catches my eye: a camera, sitting on a tripod.

There is a paper attached to it, saying “readme”. Something tells me that this will explain everything, why I’m so confused…

7:15 AM – I am reminded of the fact that I have anterograde amnesia, and that I… can’t create a future… But I’m only more confused than before I watched the video…

How long ago did I film that video? How long have I had this disease?

7:30 AM – I take a shower and get dressed for work, because that’s apparently where I’m supposed to go today, for today is Tuesday.

7:50 AM – I go downstairs to my kitchen. My “fiancé” hands me a thermos filled to the brim with coffee, with a whisper of “just how you like it”. Her smile is so genuine, and she kisses me before I leave. Once again, the child, a boy, looks at me funny. He looks about five years old.

What does Catherine love me? Why would she stay with someone who can’t remember her?

The only thing that is familiar is the layout of my house…

7:55 AM – I drive to work. Surprisingly, I remember where this place is, and that’s not unusual. The video told me that I will remember the location of places, but I won’t remember how I know or how I learned where they are. I work in an office that’s only five minutes from my house, and I create ideas for children’s story books. They hired me for my creativity… I honestly find it ironic that I would be hired for ideas for children’s books: children are a symbol of innocence and happiness, but when I was a child, all I knew was sadness… because of my… “Parents”… Corruption at such a young age… Well, if it pays the bills…

8 AM – I arrive at work. The secretary says hello to me and introduces herself as Janice, and tells me that I need to go to the third floor for work. I remember where my job is located in this building, but I thank her for being helpful before clocking in.

8:02 AM – I reach my floor. It is filled with cubicles, and most of them are empty. There are two people here: a man and a woman. The woman glares at me as I pass her to get to my cubicle. The man stops me, and hands me a stack of papers before smartly introducing himself as my boss, Tim. I don’t like the look in his eye, and I think that we’ve had history before: bad history. He dismisses me, and I reach my cubicle. There are sticky notes all over the walls here, and there are even some of my computer, all of which are ideas for stories, and all of them are mine; I can recognize them by my handwriting. A few I remember vaguely, for they are stories that I came up with in my childhood, and they must be coming to life now. They seem so melancholy for children’s books… Why do I have this job again?

2 PM – I didn’t eat lunch. Over the course of the day, I grew more and more sad knowing that this is my job, as I was reminded of my past over and over. My past leaks into my ideas, showing itself in projects of sad and lonely children with monster parents – literally inhuman parents, but the children always find happiness in the end…

Where is my happiness?

2:30 PM – Tim tells me that I’m done working for today, and that I get the rest of the day off, while reminding me that “this is a very rare opportunity”, and that “he is very, very generous”. Something tells me that he is always like this, and that I’ve always disliked him; however, I take this opportunity with both hands and I leave work. I guess I’ll head back home now… To the family that I don’t know.

2:35 PM – I arrive at my house, and my… Fiancé is waiting for me. She suggests that we all go to the park and spend time as a family together. I agree. We bundle up the children (it’s quite chilly out today) and we walk to the park.

2:45 PM – We arrive at the park, and Catherine takes the babies to the infant swings.

The little boy, the third child is playing alone in sand. I walk over to them and sit down

next to him. He doesn’t look at me. I say hello, and he says hi. He then asks “why don’t you remember anything?” I am silent because I know that he won’t understand what condition, what curse I have acquired, so I simply tell him that I can’t remember things like he does, that I’m special. He then tells me “you said that before”, and I’m surprised… Does this happen all the time? Do we have this conversation every day? I realize the severity of my condition, and for some strange reason I tell him that I’m sorry. This seems to break the ice, and we start to talk more.

His name is Brandon, and he reminds me of myself. This boy will be my son soon.

5 PM – It’s getting dark, so I suggest that we go get some dinner at a café nearby. We leave the park. Brandon holds my hand.

5:18 PM – We ate dinner at the café. I pay for it, and while we eat I realize how blessed I am to have such a beautiful family to call my own. I have happy children, a loving fiancé, and we have a roof over our heads and money. I feel as if… I have accomplished what I’ve always wanted to in my life… I feel… Happy.

6 PM – We arrive home, and we watch TV. The babies are put to bed, but Brandon is still awake with us.

7 PM – It is time for Brandon to go to bed. He fusses a little, but eventually settles down once he realizes that mommy is serious. Catherine and I both tuck him in, and he kisses us both good night, and says “good night mommy, good night daddy”. I am surprised.

Brandon smiles at me.

I am a father to a loving child who forgives…

8 PM – Catherine is tired, so she heads off to bed. I follow her and we cuddle in bed and watch TV until she falls asleep.

11 PM – Paranoia strikes. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to sleep. I’ll forget everything, EVERYTHING. I’ll forget the life that I’m living now and I won’t remember anything.

11:05 PM – I won’t remember by tomorrow…

11:07 PM – I will stay awake.

11:15 PM – I don’t want to forget.

12:35 AM – I don’t want to forget.

1:15 AM – I don’t want to forget.

3 AM – Please, God, don’t let me forget… Don’t let me…

6:30 AM – My alarm goes off. I wake up next to a beautiful blonde, a child and two babies. The woman has a ring on her finger. I don’t know who she is.

Journal Entry #5 of John Stillworth, the Anterograde Amnesia Victim I can’t sleep… If I sleep, I dream, and if I dream, I dream of what I did… What I’ve done –– It’s been 12 days since I closed my eyes last – – I see them, I see them everywhere.

I see the family that I destroyed, and the family that destroyed me – – no, no! I-I destroyed them too, I think…

They tell me that I don’t deserve to live, that I was a mistake, that they wish I never existed…

I’m forced to remember…

I’m a monster – – I’m a killer, I – I killed children, I destroyed a family… I can see them; the babies’ beautiful faces that are filled with purity… Gone… They’re gone…

What have I done…

What have I done… What have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done…

I can’t stand to be around myself. I can’t live with this anymore I don’t deserve to live.

I never did.

“When God desires to destroy a thing, he entrusts its destruction to the thing itself.

Every bad institution of this world ends by suicide. ” This is God’s will.

I take it upon myself to fulfill His desire.

I killed them…

While I was sleeping, I killed them.

I killed my fiancée’s twin babies…

I… Smothered them in my sleep…

It was an accident… It was an accident…!

My fiancée’s gone; Catherine’s gone……

I’ve been all alone this entire time.

She left me. She took her… Other… Remaining child and left… Three months ago.

I’ve been alone in this house for three months…

It was an accident… I swear it was an accident…

How did I find out about this?

How… I had a dream… It was so unreal, it had to be true…

It was an accident!!!

Even though I’ll forget this by tomorrow, I’ll remember for today… My mind, it wants me to remember.

My punishment… My sins… I never want to sleep again…

I can’t believe what I’ve done.

February By:Tyeisha Family matters and were I be from 2&3 I hate you; you make me sick to my stomach. Every time I see you coming I just want to shoot you in the face. First you make my dad be so dumb with your foolishness. Yeah you gave him the bottle of gin knowing he not suppose to drink and drive. 4 months of not having my dad home, you put him in jail. Every year you got to do something to piss me off around this time of the month. It I had a time machine I will speed right pass you. You so evil I couldn’t spend my uncle birthday with him. You killed him, you did it! All you had to do was be quiet, but noooo you got to say how you feel and now he’s dead from a gunshot to the head. You don’t think about what good for him or his family, just your fucking self. You lucky you got to be in my life because I swear it would be a scary sight. I want o stab you 50 times like when I felt like that when my papa died. You knew his birthday was February 25th so you let the heart attack kill him on February 12th. I want to mace you like the police did to my dad on February 14th for when they said he robbed somebody but, that one didn’t go in your favor because the charges was drop dumb ass. If I had a car I would run you over for the times I was hurts by you. I hate the month of February, I hope it burn in hell.

“Sad” by Jamyla Loving you while the world spend keep missing you until it end. Something like a best friend knowing im going to see you again. Keep crying because I miss you I wish you could see all this pain I go thru. Strong, beautiful, amazing, and fine smile like a goddess she’s all mines. Starting to hide my pain trying to make it fade away. Holding back from all these tears lord knows I wish u were here.

“Falling Apart” by Hannah You want to cry You feel upset Close your eyes Hold your tears Block the world out Take that step Is he replaceable?

You feel like you cat let go It’s not worth all you think it is He wasn’t anything special Life goes on

“I Want…”

I want to go back to the past.

I want to push rewind.

Can we go back?

Can we return?

This pain didn’t exist back then.

This pain wasn’t imaginable.

If we go back will you still be there?

If we return will you stay?

The feeling of not able to move on.

The feeling of emptiness.

I want to push rewind.

I want to go back to the past.

But I cant, we can’t.

“Don’t” by Hannah I see you are in pain.

Your eyes show it all.

Don’t say you’re fine.

Don’t hold back.

Ill hold you till the pain goes away.

Cry if you need to.

Let it all out.

I am here for you.

Don’t tell me you’re sorry.

You shouldn’t be, Because I’m hurting too.

“See You Later” by Jamyla It’s so hard to say good-bye but you have to let him go. He say don’t cry because he’s going to a better place and I don’t want him to see the tears run down my face. He’s here because of an accident but I just think the world is bent. I don’t want to let him go because I love him so much but I can only dream I can still feel his touch.

“Untitled” by Hannah Don’t say goodbye, don’t say you’re leaving.

Don’t walk out that door, don’t end this.

Don’t say your over, don’t say were done.

Don’t worry about the future, don’t think of the past.

Don’t take the step to leave, don’t leave me.

Don’t move on, just stay.

Who I am, who I will be: I’ve never been seen, I’ve always tried to hide and just fit in. I’m done with that now. I want to stand out. I want to be different. Why? Because people remember those who stand out not fit in. I want people to look at me and know my name. Blending in is boring and pointless. Look at it this way.

Why be a white crayon, when you can be mac and cheese yellow? Why be a goldfish, when you can be an angel fish. Why be normal, when you can be different, extraordinary, and even unique. Don’t sit in a desk. Throw tweezers in a light socket. Be a 6’9 neck kicker. Look into someone not just at them. “Take a second look and you’ll see there is no one like me.” Be someone who makes an impact in someone’s life not just an appearance.

“Cheaters” by Toiyon People Cheat Because Its An Option, You Have The Freedom To Do That, No One Can Stop You From Doing That, It Take Place When The Other Person Is Not Paying Attention, It Occurs A Lot With People, Its Not A Good Thing To Do, Because It Also Can Break Hearts And Damage Someone, When Someone Hear That Their Love One Is Cheating They Will Try To Laugh It Off And Think What Do That Person Know, So It Wont Hurt Them, Some People Just Don’t Need To Be In A Relationship If They Are Going To Cheat, I Feel Like You Should Have Just Friends If You Are A Cold-Hearted, Pliable Cheater.

“Sometimes” by Jamyla Sometimes I wish I wasn’t alive. Sometimes I wish my parents would listen to my cries. Sometimes I wish I could make everything go away. Sometimes I wish I just could skip to the next day. Sometimes I wish people could understand where im coming and not just shutting me out. Sometimes I wish I didn’t live in a lie. Sometimes I wish 10 times a day but sometimes I wish just a few of these hopes would come true. So sometimes I stop just wishing and try to make my hopes come true. I wish . . . . .

Falling Apart: Those one word texts, they hurt the most.

Goodbyes, they stab you in the back.

Hellos, they only build you up to be let down.

Cant you se what you do, how you hurt me.

I thought you were here for me, I thought it was safe.

You only let me down.

“Dear Me” by Jamyla You have come from hard times and its getting better. You can’t change your mind just because of the weather. When your grandmother passed you went into deep depression then you finally came out and found acceptance. You shouldn’t feel bad when your doing your best if that’s all you can do you shouldn’t have no regrets. Bad thoughts is what you shouldn’t have be strong, be happy don’t sit around sad. You’re a beautiful young lady and special as can be just try to get out of that stage of immaturity. When you find that moment in your breaking point making it thru ill be right there smiling, waiting saying I told you.

“I’m From” by Hannah Who I am, who I will be: I am from my mother and father, A daddy's girl at heart I am from the long summer days at the daycare, Waiting for someone to come get me I am from seeing my little sister born, To growing on the fact I'm a big sister.

I am from going to Disney World; Believing in fairy tales that never come true I am from playing pretend in my pool; Loving the sun beat down on my skin.

I am from going camping; Staying all weekend and never going home.

I am from feeling alone and awkward, To having soccer be the only thing there.

I am from the long practices, busting my butt trying to improve; To the never ending sore muscles I am from hunting with my father; To knowing I'm always safe.

I am from my cousin’s suicide; Which changed my perspective of life.

I am from having a thousand things to do, feeling confused and disoriented; To loving life and all the challenges that face me.

“Respect” by Jamyla You respect me when everybody else diss me. You make me smile when everybody else puts me down. Worshipping the wrong person can put you in a bad place but it always keeps u awake. Frown when you’re sad and smile when your happy appreciate life and be happy you have me. Turn down the lies and cut off the fame and count all your blessings for that day.

If I died tomorrow would you remember me? Would you shed a tear? Or forget our memories? Would you tell everybody how much I meant? Or would you shut me out and just forget? If I died tomorrow would I still have my place in your heart or would you find a new love to play my part.

If I died to tomorrow what would you do? Would you try to end your life just because mines is thru? Would you go in a room to hide your pain? Or go look at my pictures to remember my face. Would you cry my name a million times or have me run across your mind. If I died tomorrow I want you to know I love you. I want you to remember every good thing we had but if I died tomorrow I want you to find somebody new and don’t be just stuck in your past.

“Trust” by Toiyon Trust Is A Powerful Thing To People, Without Trust There Is No Love, Without Love There Is Not Trust, But Love Is Like a Drug, You Get Addicted To It, When You Have It, It Becomes Apart Of You And You Don’t Want To Give It Up, And It Takes A lot Of Work To Get Love Back, No Matter How Much You Fight And Give Up On That Person, The Love Is Always Going To Be Their, Its Hard Not To Let Something Get In The Way, No Matter How Much You Tell Your Self It Wont Happen It Always Do, But You Never Lose

By Loving You Lose By Holding Back Your Love.

“Why” by Jamyla Why should I care if people like me? Why should I care if they hate me? Why should I care if nobody else does? Why should I care if I never fall in love? Why should I cry if there’s nobody there to wipe my tears. Why should I try to get over my fears? Why should I care if I live a lie? Why should I think about my life or anybody else’s? Why should I appreciate life is nobody else does.

“The Nightmare Never Ends”

By Keri The sound of melted cries echoed into the darkness, with an occasional gust of wind, perhaps a whistle in accompaniment. In an old house, the wind ghosted and squealed past broken glass and came together as it swirled and twirled out of the lonely hole that was once a door. Along the walls were furniture once containing a theme with each other, though more pleasant than the one they were garnished with now, as they were blotted with dust and scarred by scratches and gashes. Blood hinted the fabric, and the scent of iron was detectable if one passed by them, but one wouldn’t.

No one crossed the broken floor, passed by with their fingers lingering on parched wood, cut through the oxygen and blood and sighs with their body, their existence.

The house groaned, a hollow noise that rang through miles of desolate wasteland which was miniscule compared to the wails that sliced the distorted atmosphere with broken gasps.

Abandoned the house was not, as a lone being was visible, though barely, crouching in a corner. Naked and nearly translucent, it hugged its knees, and its ribcage threatened to break the skin that stretched over its frail body. Every bone visible, every vein prominent, and its sore covered bald head was the only thing that moved.

Perhaps was another gust of wind, or maybe a scent of fresh blood in the air that made the being turn around, cause its bulging, bloodshot eyes to study the surroundings, made its bone dry lips part, revealing rotten teeth and crimson gums and tongue that was blackened with decay. The skin threatened to tear as it was stretched from its face collecting in the back of its head in decomposing wrinkles that oozed pus and blood.

It let out a cry, wanted to, what came out was a gasp, a dry, low moan, and a shiver as pain coursed through its body. It stood up, attempted to, but its lower limbs could not support it. It leaned on the wall beside it, and the sound of a bone breaking was louder than the dead weight that fell against the wood. Its corruption sped through the air bearing the message of a low crack, and the being shuttered a second time as a soot-blackened tear fell from a distended orb. Another gasp, and a stumble as the poor thing fell, and the sound of bones colliding with the earth and shattering was almost deafening. Tendons and ligaments scraping the floor boards, splintering the skin, veins popping and blood leaking under tissue. A fit of gasps, cries and dry coughs followed as the being fought for air and desperately clawed in front of it, fingers contorted in searing pain.

It lay there, listened to the screams of the dying, the wind rushing through blackened trees and caressing the barren surface of the earth. It could see in ephemeral dizziness the colors of the wind and dust dancing in hues of red and green, bringing along toxins and radiation that reeked of death and whose intentions were to deform and decompose.

Quick inhales transformed into shaky sighs, and the eventually the poor soul fell silent, feeling its scalding blood pulse to the broken parts of its body, causing them to throb, and it was a sorrowful reminder that the being was still alive. With wavering eyes it studied what was once its beautiful home, where nothing mattered and the only thing on its mind was what tomorrow would bring, what color of paint, what shade of white should cover its picket-fence of perfection, which its family would eat for supper, what quality of meat to buy at the supermarket across town‌ The market had long ago been rifled, the meat nonexistent, melting with fecal matter with the rest of the food, the picket-fence destroyed and crafted into fine wood chips, and fleeting fingers

grasped for the threads of yesterday as to being groaned and another tear dropped, indicating its utter misery and unholy suffering.

What was once a human was running a fever, as sweat poured from enlarged pores, leaking into its eyes, burning them, reddening them, and dripped from what was left of its nose to its parched lips, mercilessly settling into the tender, soft areas of flesh.

A third shudder, another inhalation of ash, and the being felt fatigue wash over its body, etch into its veins and arteries, soak its bones and soothe its nerves. Its eyelids collapsed, its vision faded to black, and it fell asleep.

It had a dream, and the dream was so lucid that it believed it to be true. A figure stood before the beings crumpled form on the floor, and the poor soul stared down a barrel to escape, to the end of its suffering, to wherever a higher entity could find room for what was left of it. A lone tear escaped, rolled off of an ulcer covered cheekbone, fell to the broken earth with a subtle tap as it pleaded with the figure engulfed in white, suspended in air, their eyes unseen but garnished with a taut grimace and strong jaws. The being was still, and became even more so when the strings of life were blown away with a whisper of a screaming bullet.

The sound of creaking filled the void of silence as the being woke up in cold sweat and nausea that curdled its guts, threatened to tear up its insides. Its eyes snapped open, looked about the house, saw the bleak grey sky and the holes in what once was its lovely home. A turn of its skull, and the sideways world turned right-side up, though nothing changed. The sky was still bleak, the home still hollow‌ The being still alive. It was still here on what was left of this earth, if lungs inhaling and exhaling the pungent smell of death, smoke and toxins, its body still decomposing slowly, its wish never granted. A tear, another and a third stained its once polished wooden floor, streaked its face with a salty remorse, dropped with a sound similar to that of longawaited rain quenching parched earth. A noise, a cocktail blend of a stutter, a scream and a dry wail sliced the air as the poor fellow wept in misery. It had not been saved. It was stuck on this demolished world while radiation was sucking it dry of life and humanity. The being cried for itself, for its beloved family that had long ago been saved, taken away from suffering before the poison contorted their beautiful images and destroyed the only precious memories that the being had of them. It cried for the

world that had been scorched to the deepest shade of black, and in its weeping, it fell into unconsciousness, its stamina long ago depleted, and it faded away from reality once again. It had a dream, and the dream was so lucid that it believed it to be true. A figure stood before the beings crumpled form on the floor, and the poor soul stared down a barrel to escape, to the end of its suffering, to wherever a higher entity could find room for what was left of it. A lone tear escaped, rolled off of an ulcer covered cheekbone, fell to the broken earth with a subtle tap as it pleaded with the figure engulfed in white, suspended in air, their eyes unseen but garnished with a taut grimace and strong jaws. The being was still, and became even more so when the strings of life were blown away with a whisper of a screaming bullet.

The eyes opened, broken bones scraped against one another, and saline fluid dripped once again blended with sweat and grief. Consciousness swirled with fatigue and danced with its counterpart, and the being teetered on the fence of insanity and the bliss of numb. Its mind slowly began to decompose, memories fading and fizzing into the ash filled air, ascending towards the sky while tears descended towards the earth. A scream diced the atmosphere before dwindling into a moan, than a dry whine and finally silence as the being fell into unconsciousness once again.

It had a dream, and the dream was so lucid that it believed it to be true‌

“This Life� by Jordyn I was wrong. There is no such thing as happy endings. I'm starting to think there's no such thing as love. It's just a word people like to throw around so they can control you. It's like love is really hate. My son is now a year old. In that short year, so much has happened. It's almost hard to talk about. It's crazy that all of this has happened because of one person. He changed my entire life and even the way I think. Sometimes I really regret him but then I wouldn't have my beautiful son. He lights up my whole world. Whenever I'm down, he always cheers me up. I feel like he's all I have. I can honestly say I don't know what I would do without him. I would probably be a low life just like my baby daddy.

Maybe that's why I got pregnant. God knew I was too stuck on stupid to leave Tayy alone so he gave me a baby to change me and make me realize Tayy is nothing but a selfish, lazy moocher who will never amount to anything in his life.

I deserve way better. It's just funny that it took me to have a child to realize that. He's my blessing, my angel. He saved me from a monster and for that I give my son the world. He is the only boy who will ever have my heart, and I'm perfectly fine with that.

It was 4 a.m. and little Tayy was screaming. I rolled over and tried to wake Tayy up to help me but he wouldn't move. I sighed. I'd been staying with Tayy and his mom for a month now. Every once in a while I'll go back home but I wanted to keep my family together and Tayy didn't want to stay at my house

because my mom doesn't really like him too much.

"Tayy please I'm really tired and I've been feeding him and changing him every time he wakes up!"

He still didn’t say anything. He always did this! He never wants to help, especially when he comes home late from hanging out with his friends. He would act like an asshole to me, and then go to bed.

"TAYY PLEASE!" I screamed jerking him. He sighed obnoxiously and started taking the covers off himself.

"You complain about everything" he said picking up little Dyante.

"That's real funny coming from your mouth. You're such a hypocrite." I said irritated.

"Okay, I'll be that." he said walking out of the room. I laid back down and stared at the wall, holding back tears. Tayy came back upstairs holding Dyante in his arms while feeding him a bottle. I turned my head towards him and stared at him for a minute.

"Make sure you burp him halfway through" I said. He glared at me.

"Yeah, I know."

I rolled back over and sighed. I closed my eyes and my mind started wandering off. I felt the bed move around as Tayy climbed back in.

"Goodnight" I said. He said nothing back.

The phone rang a total of three times before someone picked up.

"Hello?" my mom said

"Mom. . ." I said, sobbing "Jordyn are you okay?" she asked concerned "No. . . I need you. Tayy is no help. Well I mean he is but he's just not supportive enough. All we do is argue and he acts like it's a chore to take care of our son."

"I told you to stay home, but nooo . . . you had to move with Tayy. I don't really feel bad, Jordyn. It's time to grow up. I love you and my grandson to death but you're only hurting yourself by staying with Tayy. Being a single parent is not easy. Why don't you just move back with me."

I started crying even harder.

"I'm sorry mom! God I need your help and all you're doing is criticizing me. You make me feel like shit sometimes mom."

"I'm not trying to hurt you I'm just being honest. Trust me Jordyn I already know what it's like. You act like I didn't have you when I was 18. It's time to put on your big girl pants Jordyn." "Well I just need your help" I said between gasps "Then move back, you're always welcome here, you are my daughter."

"I'll think about it. . . " "I love you baby girl" she said. I smiled.

"I love you too" I said back and hung up the phone.

Tayy's mom knocked on the door. I told her to come in. She had just got back from church with little Dyante, her daughter Dimond, and her other grandson.

"Where's Dyante?" she asked me. I shook my head. "I have no idea, I woke up and he was gone. He must've left after you."

She sighed heavily and handed me my son.

"I think I'm gonna move back with my mom." I said staring at my sleeping son "I really do appreciate you letting me live here and helping me out with the baby and everything but I just need my mom right now."

She looked at me in my eyes.

"I understand baby. I know it's probably hard being with Tayy. I try to make him realize what he's got. He really needs to grow up. Especially now since he has a child, just know he is trying." she said. I half smiled. "I know."

She walked out of the room leaving me and little Tayy alone. I set him in his crib and layed back down on the bed. I picked up my phone and dialed Tayy's number. The phone rang and he finally answered.

"Hello" he said with no emotion "Where you at?" I asked "I went to IHOP with the bros" "Oh thanks for asking me if I wanted to come!" I said irritated "Well you were sleep!" he said with an attitude "So you could've woke me up" "Whatever" he said "Well can you at least get me some food? I'm starving."

"I don't have anymore money."

I sighed "Whatever, when are you coming home?"

"I don't know, soon cuz I got work at four."

"Kay, bye." I said and hung up the phone. I heard little Tayy moving around and making noise in his crib. I picked him up and rubbed his head.

"I hope you never turn out like your dad" It was about 3:30 p.m. when he finally came back home. He walked through the door smelling like weed.

"You stink. . ." I said crinkling up my nose "I do?" he asked smelling himself "Yeah, go take a shower" He ignored what I said and picked up our son off the ground. He started talking to him and playing with him.

"Don't be all up in his face smellin like that!" I said and snatched him away.

"What?!" he asked me, smiling like an idiot. I could tell he was really high.

"Really, it's unnecessary to be around him when you're high. Totally irresponsible. You have money for weed and food for yourself but can't even get me food and are always complaining you cant afford shit for our baby" I said on the verge of crying.

"Here we go. . .I don't really. . .are you crying?" he asked "I'm not trying to but yeah I'm bout to!"

"See this is what I'm talking about! You are such a baby! You cry about everything be a grown woman about yo shit!" he yelled, I could tell he was

getting irritated.

"How am I not being a grown woman?! I go to work, I graduated high school, I'm about to start college in a few months. But you just sit around and get high all day." I explained.

"Whatever" he said and rolled his eyes "I just wish you would care. I thought you wanted to be with me? I thought you were going to change? You act like you are then BOOM you act like this again."

"I don't care and you knew that already" he said. I could feel the tears coming. I hated him. Why did he have to treat me like this?

"Sooo you gon take me to work cuz I'm bouta be late" he said, acting as if we didn't just get in a big argument.

"No, go ask your mom."

He sighed heavily and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Little Tayy started crying. I wiped my tears and rocked him.

"Shh. . .it's okay. . .we're leaving this. . .all of this. . ."

I made sure Tayy was at work before I started packing up all my things. It wasn't much, but my son did have a lot of things to pack.

"How did you get so much stuff little boo!" I said kissing him on the cheek. "So spoiled" I said to myself. Tayy's mom came out of her room "Where you going?" she asked "I'm not tryna be rude but your son and I argue way too much and he really tested me today so I'm moving back with my mom for a while until he gets

himself together" "What'd he do?"

"He came home high, all up in little Dyante's face and I got mad and we started arguing and he totally did not consider my feelings and I'm just done for right now."

She shook her head and mumbled something to herself as she walked away. I knew she was tired of the drama and arguing. Shoot I was tired of it myself! I started taking all my things to my car then put Tayy in his car seat. I turned around and looked at the house, then checked my phone for the time. It was 9:00 p.m. which is when Tayy got off work. I decided to stay until he got home to leave. I got Tayy out of his car seat and walked back inside.

"Can you watch Dimond while I get Tayy?" his mom asked "Yeah" I said. I sat down on the couch next to Dimond. She started crying when her mom walked out the door.

"Dimond shh. . .she'll be right back she's just going to get Tayy." I said. She still was crying. I rolled my eyes and told her I'd put in Shrek. She stopped crying.

"Okay" she said sniffling. I put in the movie for her then went upstairs to Tayy's room. I laid little Tayy next to me in the bed and stared at the ceiling. I thought about everything that has happened between us. I just don't get how you could treat a person so bad. Especially when I'm the mother of his child. He wouldn't like it if someone treated his mom like that. Or his little sister Dimond. So why me? What did I ever do that was so wrong to get treated like this? My thoughts

were interrupted by Tayy walking in the room. He looked around the room.

Where'd you put all your stuff?" he asked "It's in my car" I said "Why?" I sat up and took a deep breath then looked at him. Suddenly I didn't want to leave anymore. But I had to.

"I'm going back to my mom's. We argue way too much and Tayy doesn't need to hear that. Plus you really pissed me off today coming home high. And you hurt my feelings when you told me you didn't care." I said, trying to hold back tears.

"Are you about to cry?" he asked "No. . ." I said clearing my throat "Yes you are I can hear it in your voice" "Anyway that's why I'm going back home" I said ignoring his comment.

"Well your always doin dumb shit. You irritate me and cry about everything. Like now, you're crying. . about nothing! I already have to hear enough crying from Tayy I don't need to hear anymore of it from you! Like I said it's always something for you. Nothing is ever good enough. And you wonder why I cheat on you. Cuz I need a break sometimes I give up trying to make you happy." he said, starting to get frustrated. I could already feel an argument coming.

"But you did make me happy! Then I don't know what happened! You just started cheating and treating me like shit and I took you back one too many tines so you took advantage of me. You knew I wasn't going anywhere" He was

silent. "Yeah, cuz you know I'm right. You basically used me for everything I did for you" I said "SHUT THE FUCK UP! Here you go sayin dumb shit again! I never used you why do you always say that!" he yelled. I stood up and got in his face.

"Don't tell me to shut up! Why don't you!"

"I'll talk to you how I want! So if I tell you to shut the fuck up you do it bitch!"

"Excuse me! I'm not a bitch! Don't ever call me that!" I said. I started to cry. I hated when he called me names.

"Shut up talking to me" he said starting to walk away. I pulled his arm back towards me.

"Let go of me!"

"No I'm not done talking to you" "Dude, let go of me now. . ." he said sternly "I just said I'm not done! So don't walk away!" I screamed "I'm tired of you calling me names and being mean to me! You wonder why I cry all the time cuz of you! You just don't care at all and it kills me!"

"Yeah you already said this before. Now like I said. Shut up talking to me."

"Man FUCK YOU!" I screamed and pushed him. Then I hit him on his head. Bad mistake.

"Don't touch me Jordyn." he said clenching his fists "Oh what you're going to hit me? Your baby mama, the one you so called love?"

"Get out." he said

"Make me." I said back. He grabbed my arm with a tight grip.

"Ouch Tayy let go of me!" I screamed. He threw me on the bed.

"Tayy what the fuck Dyante is on this bed!" i screamed trying to get him off of me . Little Tayy started crying and screaming.

"Shut up, bitch!" he said and hit me in my face. I was shocked. Did he really just hit me? I thought he would never put his hands on me. I knew he would do everything else in the book but he promised he would never out his hands on me. I instantly started crying and hit him back in his face. He put his fist back up then put it down again. His face went from angry to hurt and confused.

"Baby, I'm sooo sorry. . ." he said, trying to hug me. I pushed him off me and screamed.

"Get away from me. I don't even know you anymore. You changed Dyante." I said crying. I grabbed little Dyante and swaddled him in my arms.

"It's bad enough you hit me, and on top of that you do it in front of your son?

What does that teach him? That it's okay to hit females?"

"I'm sorry I said ! I just got really mad and you kept touching me so I just. . ."

I cut him off "No, fuck that. You should NEVER put your hands on a female unless they're trying to kill you. Which I wasn't. If anything you could've pushed me off and walked away. But you didn't. You hit me. And you're stupid because I barely even hit you hard. I barely hit you at all. Just a slap on your head." I said. I turned around and looked in the

mirror. The whole right side of me face was bright red and there was splotches of purple and green . I touched it lightly and it stung . It felt hot. I just can't believe he did this to me. The one i would lie for, ride for, and die for really hurt me. This was beyond hurting me emotionally. This was physically. A tear fell down my cheek and I looked at Tayy. He tried to wipe the tear of my face but I brushed his arm away. Little Tayy started getting fussy.

"Don't try to act like you care now just because you hit me. Don't feel bad now.

I'm done Dyante. DONE." I said and walked out. By this time little Tayy was screaming. I went to my car and put little Tayy in his car seat. I got my phone out and dialed my mom's number. I started sobbing uncontrollably. She finally answered.

"Mom, I'm coming home."

It's been a year. One whole year. A few days after I moved out of Tayy's house he got arrested and sentenced to a year in jail for breaking into someone’s house armed. Why he did it? I don't know. But he's missed so much of Tayy's life. It's sad. He called whenever he could to talk to us and see how Tayy was doing but it's not the same. I hoped having a son would change him too but I guess I was wrong. He gets out today. On our son's birthday. He was pretty excited but I'm just nervous. It's not fair that Tayy doesn't get to have a normal family. He doesn't get a father who's there for him all the time. It makes me sick to my stomach sometimes.

"Mom I'm nervous. . ." I said as we drove to the county jail.

"I am too. He better not try and do any funny business because this day is not about him. It's about this little bundle of sunshine in the backseat. And there's going to be a lot of people at the house." She explained "I know. I think that this really did change him. I remember when he called one day and I was showing little Tayy a picture of Tayy and he said "da" you know like dad? And he started crying. He said he was so sorry for everything he put both of us through and that he's going to try and get his life straight when he gets out."

"Well actions speak louder than words" she said not believing anything I said "I'm not saying I'm going to get back with him. But I want to give him another chance as a father. He really does love Tayy mom and I think our son deserves to have a father in his life."

I said. We drove the rest of the way in silence.

We're here. Finally here. I took a deep breath and unbuckled my seat belt.

"Here we go" I said as I opened my door. Tayy's mom was sitting inside waiting for us to get there. She was shaking her leg and staring at the wall. I walked over to her.

"Oh Jesus you scared me!" she said grabbing her chest. I laughed and apologized.

"I'm so excited to see my baby! He may be a handful but I missed him." She said. All of a sudden we saw two policemen walk around the corner with papers.

Tayy was trailing behind him.

"Stay outta trouble" one of the officers said uncuffing him. His mom instantly started crying. She screamed and squeezed him.

"I missed you so much please Tayy stop doing stupid things. It's time to grow up." she said "I know. I'm done mom for real. I need to change for him." he said pointing to our son. I smiled.

"Hi" he said. I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Tears came to my eyes.

Even though he did me so wrong I still had love for him. I mean after all he is my baby daddy.

"Wow he's gotten so big! Man I missed you so much." He said taking Tayy from my arms.

"He missed you too. I always read him your letters and showed him pictures of you while you were away." I said. He hugged little Tayy tight and a saw a tear come down his cheek. This made me start crying and I took out my phone to take a picture of them.

"Happy birthday Dyante. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you like I should have been.

But I promise I will never leave you again." He said and kissed his forehead "I love you."

“Family Dynamics” Day 1 of the Suicide Diary, I still look into the sky and think about him. I still ask myself why. He had everything, and at the same time nothing I guess. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real that he’s gone. I try to convince myself he’s not gone but on vacation. What hurts the most is not that he’s gone but knowing that he chose to leave. He chose to pick up that gun. He chose to pull that trigger. I wonder if he really knew what he was doing. He didn't know at the time how it would affect the people around him. If only someone was there that night.

If only. If only. If only. Suicide, the word gives me never ending chills throughout my arms and legs. Why would he choose to leave us? No ones happy anymore. It's been two years you think we'd all move on. I still remember being woke up in the morning by my mother. Tears streaming down her face; and then the words hit my like a semi truck. "Seth committed suicide last night. I didn’t cry I sat there shocked in amazement. I thought he was happy all this time. Happiness. Is anyone really truly happy anymore?

People say forget the past and look forward to the future. How can you look forward when someone’s missing? It's like a puzzle without a puzzle piece.

The pictures broken. That’s how life seems now, broken.

Day 2 of the Suicide Diary, Everyday seems the same as when he was here. It feels no different except I know he’s gone. I saw all the pain my aunt went through. I saw the empty look she kept in her eyes. She would sit on the porch for hours at a time staring into the mountains. I wonder what she used to think of. I know she probably wished she got to say goodbye. I know I do. He left without a trace. No text. No call. No note. No goodbye. She tried her best to promote suicide awareness. That’s all she ever did. Her life became centered around his death, maybe that’s why she died to. Never thought I’d lose two people over one thing. The family seems so lost now. At least to me it does. Now everyone else has moved on. I’m the only one who remembers them. I’m the only one who try’s to keep them alive. Then again, is that the reason I can’t move on? It all comes down to forgetting the past and looking forward to the future. Looking forward, something that seems so hard to do right now.

Day 3 of the Suicide Diary, One more day goes by, one more hour, one more minute, one more second. It still seems as if they left yesterday. I’m still hurting inside. I’m the only one still hurting. It’s only been two years. I can grieve still right? I don’t understand how people move on so fast. My aunt has been gone for one year now and my uncles already getting married. How can he do that?

How can he just forget about her and move on. He can’t bring a stranger into the family like this. She doesn’t belong with us. I don’t want a new person in my life. My aunts not a goldfish you can’t just replace her when she dies. No one will ever replace her. How would you feel if I replaced you? How would you feel if I brought someone in to take your place? Don’t get me wrong she’s not a bad lady but she’s not a good one. At least she’s letting us stay in her lake house during the wedding. Talk about free vacation. I’m not going to approve of this wedding. I don’t know if I ever will. That brings my back to letting go and moving on. As soon as I approve of the wedding, it means I’m moving on and letting go. I can’t do that. I just can’t.

“Anger” by Toiyon When People Get Sad They Shut Down, They Cry Over Their Condition, But When They Are Angry They Wake Up, But Anger Isn’t Easy, Holding On To Anger Is Like Grasping A Hot Pan With The Intent Of Throwing It At Someone But You Are The One Who Always Get Burned, Anybody Can Become Angry, But To Be Angry With The Right Person And To The Right Degree And At The Right Time And For That Purpose, And In The Right Way, That Is Not Within Every Bodies Power And Isn’t Easy, Everyone Just Decides To Go Crazy But People Also Need To Learn How To Forgive And Forget Enemies.

“Where I’m From”

By Keri I’m from a broken home Of broken bones, Where “daddy” was a monster And “mommy” stood by watching.

I’m from fear of sleeping And things that go bump in the night Because that means that the monster is coming To talk to me in the form of screams and fists.

I’m from bottles of vodka and tears Whispers that carried wails of “I wish you never existed”, and “You were a mistake”.

I’m from the place where God never protected me with His angels took me home .

I thought that nobody, not even He cared.

I’m from detached families Where my “uncle” was my mother’s playmate Along with many “uncles” and “daddies” and “friends”, Clarified mumbles under suffocating smoke.

I’m from threats and death wishes, From the force of growing up too early, From watery eyes and bruises, From a broken home of broken bones.

“Life” by Lillian I was always good at school. That was my escape when home got to be too much to handle. My work always kept my mind busy, and my straight A’s made me feel good about myself. When I was usually cooking, cleaning, or watching after my brother, Stephan, and my baby sister, Angela. I was the oldest but most people think of Stephan and me as twins. People usually introduce us as Steven and Stephan Hill.

He’s my little brother but I feel as though he’s a part of me.

My baby sister Angela was a different story. She’s my little princess! wherever I go, she’s right there on my hip. I was more of a thirteen-year-old father than a brother with a four year old sister. Angie looked to me for protection, food, clothes and the up

keeping of a shelter. My mom, Tonya, is a former drug addict, so most of the time it was hard for her to keep a job. When my dad, Kevin, found out about her unhealthy habit he turned to alcohol. The months at a time when my mom has no job, she’s usually out all hours of the day and night, which causes my dad to worry, and soak himself in the devil drink that tore my family apart.

My parents were a perfect example of what I didn’t want to become, nor what i would allow my brother or sister to become. I took on full responsibility in my household. My Neighbor, Mrs. Rose, watched Angie while I was in school. Stephan picked her up after school and kept her while i worked at DonTae’s. DonTae’s was a local barbershop that Mrs. Rose’s son owned. After work, I start dinner, set the table, give my dad his aspirin and give Angie her bath. There was always money around from the days when my dad decided not to sit around with a spinning head, and return to his self employed job as a street pharmacist. Not that I approved of his lifestyle, but i couldn’t possibly pay bills and support this house by myself. ****** I remember one day in particular, when my dad was supposed to get out of jail. He’d gotten arrested for public intoxication, and spent the next two months in jail for possession of marijuana. I had just gotten home from work and cleaned the chicken I was going to prepare for dinner. As usual I started Stephan on his homework and put Angie in the tub. I set the table for three, which i had gotten used to since mom lost her job again and had been staying out all night for the past few weeks. Once the fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and green beans was all cooked and placed out on the table, my brother, sister and I all sat around the table.

Our little family was perfectly fine on our own. We all bowed our heads and said grace, as our grandmother taught us before she passed away. It wasn’t until Big Mama was gone that my mom started her new life with the pipe. Angie could tell when i was thinking of her and always tried to cheer me up. She began telling us about her and Mrs. Rose’s day when My dad busted through the front door with a fist full of my mom’s hair. He threw her on the couch and started ranting.

“Daddddyyyyyy” Angie yelled out in tears. “Let mommy go!” Whatever pissed him off this time threw him over the edge, and i refused to let Angie see our mother be abused. I carried Angela to my room and set her in front of the TV. “Watch cartoons baby girl, everything’s going to be okay.” I kissed her forehead to assure her and wiped the tears away.

Heading back to the living room, Stephan speeds past me with a baseball bat in his hands. I try to stop him but I see Kevin raising his fist over and over again as my mom is yelling for help. I step in the room and try to pull him off my mom. He lunges back and slaps me across the face. Stephan darted towards Kevin and attacks him with the bat. He hit him in the back and Kevin grabbed the bat and threw it at the window shattering it all over. But Stephan wont give up, he jumps at Kevin again before Kevin backhands him into the wall. I get up and jump on his back choking him. He swings me around and slams me into the ground.

“Y’all think Y’all men now huh?” Kevin screams “Y’all try’na replace me now! I ain’t been gone but two months and already, y’all Lil nagger’s think u run’n sumth’n!” He threw my mom back onto the couch and gives her another slap across the face as she was trying to get up. “I’m still the man of this house and I deserve respect!”

Just then the police pull up and bum rushed into the living room five at a time. I go in the room to check on Angie, who was terrified. I found her hiding in the back of the closed with the house phone and a teddy bear I bought her for her birthday. “I’m

sorry Steven, I was scared” she looked so frightened I held her in my arms. “You did the right thing princess.” She looked at my bleeding lip and held me tighter. Stephan walked in and informed me that the police needed to speak with me. I tucked Angie into my bed and closed the door behind me.

By the time I came out the room Kevin was handcuffed in the back of a squad car and most the police officers were outside with Stephan and my mom separated and speaking with two officers each. My two uniformed men were waiting for me in the living room.

“Steven, is it?” one of them asked.

“Yes sir.” I answered. Most black people in the hood had no respect for the law, but I did nothing wrong. As long as they protected my mother and kept my brother, sister and I all together under the same roof, I had no problem with city authorities.

“Tonya is your mother, correct?”

“Yes sir she is” “And Kevin, he’s your father?” I hesitated “He’s my dad sir. A father takes care of his family, and protects them from harm, not put them in danger.” Obviously pleased with my answer, he moved on with the questions. I lost all respect for Kevin that day. And my mom had very little of my respect. I just couldn’t understand how you have a daughter of such a young age and constantly allow a man to beat you senseless whenever he feels disrespected.

What kind of example was she setting in my princess’ mind? ****** When I was 16, Stephan 13, and Angie 6, Kevin and mom got into a major fight.

Mom had been clean for about four months now and Kevin found out her former drug dealer was moving about two blocks away. He assumed mom had something to do with his choice in neighborhoods and went into another raving storm. By now Angie knew the routine and went into my room automatically and I followed her. She was no longer afraid of the ‘monster’ that came out when ‘daddy had his bad juice’ and I was tired of defending Tonya over and over.

This time, Kevin gave up his argument. He had gotten a call on his cell phone to meet someone over by the corner store for a small drug deal. Money was more important so Kevin jumped at the opportunity. From what the police told us, Kevin got to the corner store where he usually made his deliveries. After the drug deal was made, Kevin turned to walk back home when he heard what sounded like a disagreement. The men’s words turned to curses then yells. Two loud shots were fired and before he had a chance to react he was hit in the chest with a stray bullet.

Once we heard, there was silence throughout the house. No one knew how to react.

Our mother needed comfort now. I wanted so badly to ask where she was the nights I needed comfort. The days I missed school because I was too stressed out and couldn’t sleep at night, she was nowhere to be found. Then again, she was my mother. That’s probably why I was up with her all night wiping away her tears. I had a selfish reason too. I had an excuse to spend time with my mom again. It’s been years since I’d hugged her and sometimes I’d give anything for her affection. My mind wandered to the few good times he had with Kevin, but I couldn’t help but to think about our last fight. He had the nerve to tell me, the person taking care of his family and his responsibilities, that I’d never amount to anything. I just didn’t know how to feel, there’s so many mixed emotions in my heart right now. My mom’s sobs

finally fell silent as she drifter off to sleep on my shoulder. I soaked in the feeling of a mother’s love before I nodded off myself. ****** Eventually we moved on. Mom was home, and clean so it gave me a chance to get out. My girlfriend came around a lot while I had a little more freedom. Ashley was my heart, she and I were best friends since the 5th grade. Then sophomore year, we went to a game together. Before we left the school, about three guys got in her face hassling Ashley for accidently bumping them. I stood up for her but she was really upset. When we got to her car she was in tears, telling me how she was sure rumors would start considering it was her exboyfriend and his friends. I comforted her and told her that the only opinion that mattered was mine and I thought she was an amazing person. That was the truth, and she saw it when she looked deep into my eyes. It was at that moment when I realized she was the most beautiful girl in the world, and I needed to keep her in my life. She must have felt the same because before I knew it she leaned over and kissed me so gently, yet so passionately. Then all of a sudden she quickly pulled away and looked straight ahead with a look of embarrassment on her face. I grabbed her hand, and softly touched her face. She looked me in my eyes and this time I kissed the love of my life. We’ve been together ever since and I plan to keep it that way. She was my first and only love, and I was hers. The bond we had was special. ****** By junior year, Ashley was a varsity cheerleader so I was spending a most of my time at home again. I enjoyed the time I had to spend with Angie again. Ashley suggested we take Angie to the zoo one weekend before she left to cheer at a basketball game. Angela loved the idea and couldn’t wait to spend time with Ashley and me. Before we left I stopped in Stephan’s room to see if he’d like to come along.

“Naw man. I got plans today.” He said without eye contact and an angry expression on his face.

“Where you going?”

“I’m kicking it with Anttwan today. We’re going to lil D crib to play some ball.” Still my little brother avoided eye contact, and now I know why. I stepped fully into the room and close the door behind me.

“Lil D?” I asked. “You mean the same Dawan Carter that’s on house arrest for robbery and illegal possession of marijuana?” I stepped closer to him to try to get a glance at his eyes. “What are you doing hanging out with them?” Stephan did a 90degree turn so his face was completely hidden from my line of sight.

“They got him on some bad charges.”

“Stephan you sound stupid defending him. They’re not people you need to be around, they don’t have life goals!”

“So now you got authority to tell me who I can and can’t hang with?” Now he looked me directly in the eyes and I saw they were bloodshot red.

“Man Stephan what are you dong with your life? I guess you gone start the drug business like them too huh?”

“So what if I do?” He yelled obviously frustrated with my concern. “It’s not like we don’t need the extra money. Dad busted serves for the bills around here! It never hurt anybody!”

“Never hurt?” Now I raised my voice “How quickly did you for get He’s dead! He died doing exactly what your out here trying to do! Shouldn’t that tell you something?”

Stephan smacked his lips and turned his back towards me once again. I grabbed his arm and yanked him so he was staring me in my eyes. “Selling drugs aint the only way to eat Stephan!” I heard a horn blow outside and I let his arm go. Angie came bursting in the room with her bright smile.

“She’s here Rollie come on!” she ran out the room screaming “ZOO ZOO ZOO ZOO! Come on Rollie!” The door slammed shut behind her as she ran out side. I looked Stephan in his stoned red eyes before he turned away one last time. I rolled my eyes and left my brother there alone. I needed time with my girl. ****** Tonya was doing well for about six months and I often told her how proud I was of her when we were alone. We were spending everyday together, Stephan, Angie and were opening up allowing her in their hearts again. I truly was proud of my mom, but I’d been hurt way too many times to let my guard down that easily. She started to seem unhappy. Some days she would get this sad puppy dog look on her face then she’d just leave. Angie told me one day mom left her home alone and told her to wait until I came home One evening I came home from work and found her sitting on the couch with eightyear-old Angela. Angie jumped up and greeted me as she always has. I studied Tonya’s face and told Angie to go to her room. “You can’t just be sitting around her like that. She’s getting older, sooner or later she’ll find out you act different from other parents.” We’ve had this argument multiple times. I hated how she could be so careless around the only little girl she had. If I allowed her to be high around Angie she’d get too comfortable and eventually start smoking around her too. That’s not the kind of lifestyle I wanted Angela to learn. “I know,” was all she had to say for herself.

Sometimes her attitude made me sick. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about.”

There used to be a time where I could tell if anything was bothering my mother, but not tonight. “I cant live like this anymore, I need to get out and go.” Tears were coming to her eyes and she got up from her seat and paced nervously. “What do you mean you gotta go? Go where?” I tried to make eye contact but she refused and tears poured from her eyes now. “Your old enough Steven. I need you to take care of your brother and sister now” As she tried desperately to hide her tears, she walked into the kitchen and pretended her attention was on a letter left on the table.

“I can’t keep coming home to my Lil’ girl seeing me like this. The way she looks at me sometimes, its like I’m her biggest hero. Then other times she just stare at me like I’m the biggest disappointment.” Now tears began to trickle out of the corner of my eyes. My throat began to tighten and for the first time in six years, I remembered that my mother actually had feelings.

“Ma’ I know its hard, but we can get you help. You can go back to rehab and when you’re better we’ll be a family again.” I can see the mention of rehabilitation brought memories of her and Kevin. Her nose scrunched up tight and she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Finally she looked me in my eyes. “I’m sorry Steven. I ain’t going to no rehab no more.” It was impossible for me to hold my tears back any longer. They all came pouring down my cheeks like an Olympic race. My throat was now burning and my nose was dripping like a leaky faucet.

“Y’all gone be alright baby. Better off without me sticking around doing nothing but setting bad examples.” She walked up to me and wiped my face off.

“Don’t you think Angie needs a mom around?”

“I ain’t been much of a mother to her Steven and you know it!”

“So you think running gone be better? What happens when she asks ‘Where’s mommy’ at night? You’re not the one who has to see her face when she asks ‘When’s mommy coming home. Nor are you the one who lies to her! ‘Mom will be back soon! She’s getting better so she can stay home for good’ You don’t deal with that, I do! I know how it feels to crush a little girls dreams of seeing her mother and having mines crushed right along with hers! I know!” I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t mean to yell at her the way I did but I couldn’t help it. How could she just leave?

“Your right,” she backed up slowly and turned towards the door. “You been taking care of them since Angie was born. I should have been there, but neither one of us can change the past can we.” She grabbed her jacket.

“But you can change the future, all you have to do is get help!” she opened the door.

“Bye Steven” ****** My mother left just like that. My tears turned to anger, my burning throat turned to a racing heart. My emotions built as I see Angie come out of her room. Stephan came out too as they both tried to comfort me. I punched the wall over and over, my temper boiling hot! I couldn’t see anything but fire as my arms repeatedly swung.

Stephan sent Angie to her room and tried to control me. After I put up a fight, my fire died down. I saw my brother’s face full of concern. Here I was, 18 years old and responsible for a 16 and an 8 year old. Its bad enough I took on responsibilities for the past eight years by choice, but now it’s by force! Tonya wasn’t a mother to begin with, but how do you just give up on your children?

My brother and I talked about what just happened and how we would work together to get through life with only each other. Stephan always had my back so I know he’ll be there to help me with Angie. For some reason Mrs. Rose advised me months ago to start filing for custody, it’s a good thing I did. Stephan and Angela would be my responsibilities before I allowed them to get mixed up in the system.

Once I got my thoughts collected, I went into Angie’s room to make sure she was alright. I hugged her and sat her on my lap. “You alright baby girl?” she looked into my eyes. “Are you alright Rollie?” I smiled.

“Yeah I’m gonna be okay. We’re all going to be okay.” I assured her “Even momma?” I saw the look of worry in my princess’ eyes and I knew I couldn’t lie to her any longer. She’s getting too old and way too smart.

“I don’t know. Baby girl it may be a long time before we see mom again, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to try and be strong for anybody. If you need to let your emotions out you know me and Stephan here for you.” She just smiled and said “You let out enough emotions for the three of us on the living room couch!” We both laughed. No matter what hard times we were going through I could always, count on Angie to be the heart of the situation and put a smile on everyone’s faces!

“You’re the strongest little girl I know. And I mean that! I’m proud of you!”

“Thanks Rollie. I love you.” I kissed her forehead and stood up from the bed.

“I love you too” I headed to the door, then a sweet angelic voice said, and “Thank you for always being there for me Steven, you’re the best parent I could ever ask for.” Again my throat tightened, and my eyes began to water. This time of a different nature, pride.

The next morning as I was cooking breakfast Mrs. Rose came over. I invited her to come eat with us from time to time, when we had enough. I liked having her around, She was the only positive influence I had in my life. Mrs. Rose always felt like more of a grandma than a next-door neighbor after Big Mama passed. Today, her eyes were full of happiness. “What’s the news Mrs. R?” I asked her while sitting around the table.

“You know DonTae is getting married soon.” Mrs. Rose’s son fell in love while he was on vacation and decided to close the shop and move to California. My boss and I had discussed me possibly losing my job after he got married. Since we were so close he helped me fill out a few applications so our family wouldn’t fall so hard when he closed up. “Yeah I know. DonTae and I went all over looking for somewhere I could relocate. You know anybody Hiring?”

“Oh no need for that!” Her smile was so bright I couldn’t help but grin in anticipation of the news she was about to tell me. “Don and I had a little talk last night. I been telling that hardheaded boy for months now I didn’t approve of him closing down that shop!”

“But all his girl’s family is in Cal-” “You just hush up and listen boy! Now, I know you gone be graduating in about a month or two. You’ll have a little more time on ya’ hands. DonTae and I think it’ll be good for the both of us if we hand the shop over to you” I couldn’t believe my ears!

This would definitely help with bills, food and clothes for Angie!

“Hand it over? Y’all sure Mrs. Rose?”

“As long as our families split the earnings in half, we both think it’s a great idea! Don’t you son?”

“Terrific! I couldn’t thank you enough!”

“No need Steven! You just make sure you take care of your sister and brother, and anything you need just let me know!” I jumped up and hugged Mrs. Rose, I couldn’t believe my ears! Stephan and Angie jumped from the table realizing they were almost going to miss the bus.

“Congratulations big bro, you deserve it!” Stephan said walking up and hugging me before grabbing his backpack. Angie came up and hugged and kissed me said “I love you” and followed Stephan as he walked her to her bus stop.

“I better get going too Steven, I just wanted to share the good news.” Mrs. Rose said standing with a beautiful grin. I embraced her one more time before showing her out.

”Thanks again Mrs. R. I’ll call DonTae after school to talk business.” I quickly grabbed a jacket, my keys and my bag before locking the door and heading to school.

Usually I’d get a ride from Ashley, but she’d been feeling sick lately. Sitting in second hour, Mr. Adams hands out another progress report. I still have the same 98% I’ve had all semester, but a lot of the other kids complain about their grade dropping.

Math was my favorite subject and to me, Calculus was as easy as preAlgebra.

Usually I’d just sit there carefree while everyone complained, but today Mr. Adams’ phone rings and I’m instructed to go down to the counselor. I never got in trouble at school, so I could only imagine what they wanted. When I got there, a young woman sat on the phone with a look of worry and sorrow on her face. She gestured for me to have a seat. I sat patiently looking around at all the peer pressure posters suspended on the walls.

“Are you sure?” I tried listening more intensively to the lady’s phone conversation and tried to put together reasons why I’d be there. “Steven Hill just arrived to my office.” I couldn’t put together why she would emphasize my name, like she thought she had the wrong Steven. Ashley. It had to be Ashley! Of course, she’s sick! I felt horrible now. Every second felt like an hour. Why didn’t I check on her before I left home? All the excitement from my promotion had my head on backwards. All I could think of was if my baby girl was okay. “I’ll be sure to let him know.” I could feel my heart speed up, and my hands become tense around the armrests of my seat.

“Thank You.” She hung up the phone and I didn’t hesitate, “Is everything alright?” I ask, trying to seem much more calm than I feel.

“No, Steven. I’m afraid not.” My heart dropped.

“It’s your mother.” I was confused now. The lady that just walked out on my siblings and me? What could she possibly need of me?

“My mother? What’s going on?” Her look of sorrow now turned to concern.

“This morning, around 8:30, your mother was brought to Wishward hospital by ambulance. She was hit by a drunk driver.” I felt the tightening feeling I’m getting used to now, my esophagus burning, desperate for air. My vision became foggy as tears start to sneak along my cheeks.

“Is she alright” The woman hesitated for a second “No, I just got off the phone with the police department. She took her last breath just ten minuets after she asked to see you. I’m sorry Steven.” There was no way I just heard those words. ‘Last breath’ she asked to see me. Those words alone tugged at my heart, but together they ripped it to pieces.

The Hospital wasn’t aware my mother had three children. So like always, it was my job to tell my siblings mom wasn’t coming home. Stephan got home first. He knew something was wrong the minute he walked through the door. I was sitting in the living room, TV off, lights off, blinds closed. Just the way my mom left me, in total darkness.

“What’s up bro?” Stephan slowly walked in and flipped on the light switch to discover my wet cheeks and fiery red eyes. “You alright man?” He asked, waiting my explanation. I stood up and wiped my face.

“Sit down man” “Sit down? What’s wrong?”

“Its mom” His expression flung from worry, to shock, to confusion.

“I thought mom wasn’t coming back. Y’all get in another fight?”

“Stephan. She died this morning.” His jaws dropped, I could see his struggle to hide his tears, yet still his face became soggy. “Its alright to cry Stephan. Every man has his weakness.” He clenched his jaws, tightened his fists and sat on the couch.

“What happened?”

“She was hit by a drunk driver. She arrived at the hospital and told the doctors to contact me. Right before I got the message, she was gone.”

All Stephan’s sadness turned to anger. “Why wasn’t she here? She should’ve stayed here!” He stood quickly and flipped over the inn table on the side of the couch.

“Stephan, its okay to hurt man. I’m hurting too” I’m holding back so much pain as I try to hug my brother for a little comfort.

He pulled away from me like he wanted to fight and yelled. “Hurt? I spent my whole life trying to protect a woman, who didn’t act as if she even gave a damn about me, from a drunk man! But I never gave up! I never gave up because I knew if I saved her from that man, I’d have a mom again! I’d have someone to tuck me in at night, hold me and tell me everything’s going to be okay! Someone to be there, not just as a provider but as a supporter, a comforter, a mother!”

We both stood there feeling each other’s pain. “I tried to keep her safe, from the rage of an alcoholic, and look how she died. A drunk!” “You don’t think I understand? I longed for the same attention you did! I did everything a mother was supposed to do just so she would have time to acknowledge me! Do you think it worked? No! I protected her from the same Man you did! We were there together! So we need to be there for each other. We’re brothers man.” Stephan finally broke down in tears and hugged me. That’s when his anger disappeared behind his woe again.

Just as we got ourselves together Angie walked in. Stephan and I agreed that we’d stay strong for her and tell her together. That was the worst feeling in the world seeing my princess so hurt. She just cried on my shoulders for what seemed like forever. I knew there was nothing I could do this time. I felt like I let her down somehow, Like I was the one that demolished the hope that one day we’d all live happily ever after. No one could eat, sleep, or even think. We all sat in the living room all night long comforting one another until sunrise when we finally drifted off.

After the funeral, around 4:00 Ashley came by to check on me. She seemed like she had something on her mind. I asked her what was going on but she insisted she was fine. I grabbed her hand, looked into her eyes and assured her I was there for her no matter what I had going on, then sealed my promise with a kiss. We sat around with Angie watching movies and keeping our mind busy. This week was when I started my new position as part owner of DonTae’s. Ashley told me repeatedly how she was

proud of me and how she knew I was responsible. Though she said she was fine, I saw in her eyes otherwise. I took her in my room to talk.

“Whats going on baby girl?” I asked her “I told you I’m fine babe.” She looked down at the ground “Talk to me Ashley. I need to know whats up” I grabbed her chin and directed her face so our eyes would meet.

“I didn’t want to tell you now. I was waiting for a better time.” I wondered why she looked so afraid to tell me what was going on.

“Now Is a more perfect time than any. so….” she got up and walked over to my window and stared outside aimlessly ”I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” My heart filled with joy, fear, and excitement all at once. A small grin spread across my face.

“I’m scared Steven” I walked over and wrapped my arms around her.

“I am too baby, but you know I’m here for you. We’re in this together. What did your parents say?” She turned to look at me “They weren’t too happy but they know how you’ve been there for your brother and sister. We argued a little but mom gave in. She convinced dad that I could have a baby and still graduate on time” “I know you can. Graduation’s right around the corner. You’ll make it out on top, and you’ll be a great mother. I love you.” She gave a smile that touched my heart. I know we’re going to be ok. “I love you too.”

Here we are, two months after graduation on my 19th birthday. Business at the shop has been surprisingly great so I took the family out to celebrate. Stephan, Angie, Mrs. Rose, Ashley, her parents and myself all went out to have a good time. The love of my life was six months pregnant with my first child. A baby girl to to be named Tonya Ra’Naye Hill after my mother. After graduation, Ashley’s father was much more supportive of the two of us. We had been living together for the past three months. I had just gotten an offer from someone to buy the shop and turn it into some car dealership. This guy thinks It’ll be a huge success and he’s willing to pay DonTae and I 40% of earnings each. I talked it over with Mrs. Rose and DonTae and they both think it’d be an amazing change. Just looking at the estimates given, i was expected to make at least a four figure salary!

I discussed this with the family at dinner. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, as you both know I’m madly in love with your daughter. And with us bringing a life into this world, I only want the best for our family.” Mr. Johnson and I had a little talk earlier in the month so he knew what was to be expected. I reached in my pocket for the 14K I had been caring around for the perfect moment. I turned to my beautiful lady, looked her in her eyes, got down on my knee and said “Ashley Marie Johnson, you have been the apple of my eye since the 5th grade. And Ive been madly in love with you ever since.

My life would have went haywire without you. I don’t want to live another day without the world knowing how much I love you and need you. Will you do me the honor, of being my wife?” I slipped the ring on her with my heart pounding at the speed of light. What if she thought this was too sudden? What if I embarrassed her in front of

her parents? What if she says no? The few seconds her face was expressionless felt like the end of my life. If she turned me down I would slowly die. I needed this woman in my life. “Yes baby!” she said excitedly with the happiest smile I’ve ever seen on her face. She kissed me so sweet and passionate. I felt the same exact butterflies in my stomach as I did in her car that first time she put those soft seductive lips on me. The family congratulated us and we toasted to our new built family.

Things finally started looking up for me. On my 29th birthday I announced to my wife, brother, sister, and daughter that we were all moving to Florida. It was always my dream to be a family and get my loved ones out of this Neighborhood. Way too many people in the Indianapolis area were getting killed and I refused to lose any more loved ones. I finally got the family I’d always wanted, and I would protect them at any means necessary.

“Goodbye” by Sarah Emily Today is the day I’ve dreaded since that night, the night when everything I knew changed. Right and wrong doesn’t matter anymore .Nothing matters anymore.

As always I sit on the front porch thinking. As I sit, a smooth breeze makes my long black hair blow back. I then take a deep breath and run my hand down the side of my torn jeans from that night. The night I lost everything forcing me to morph into someone I don’t even know. I wonder to this very day if a minor change of events could have made the old me never change. Maybe I could have been the “Happy” Emily. But unfortunately that night changed everything. It’s too late to try to grasp a bit of the past when I was actually happy. I just wish I could have gotten through that night without someone having to die. Then again what is life without death? I don’t know the answer to that question yet, but I know life with death equals nothing but sorrow.

Joseph I stand atop a mountain Shrouded in a white blanket of clouds. I do not where I am but I’m not scared. Actually I am not scared of anything. I feel fearless for once in my life. Almost as if I’m invincible .Nothing makes sense anymore, I believe that I’m floating now. Still I feel fearless. I miss my friends as well but wherever I am I feel…safe.

Suddenly I fall back into my bed and I am strewn across it. What a filthy place my bedroom is. The broken blinds dangled front the window letting in a ray of light. The ray shone upon a pile of dirty stained clothes. Clothes I can’t even afford to wash. I get up stepping on a Chemistry book and tumbling forward. Landing on my knees I scoff. I hate it here. I hate the apartment; I hate everything, even myself. I look heavenward I want to be on the mountain, but it’s only in my dreams. My few minutes in heaven have stopped short so I can live my life in my lovely little hell on earth made especially for me.

Getting up I shut the blind the best I can and fall back onto my bed. I need a vacation. I want to go back to the mountain.

Collin I run my sleek hand through my tousled hair as I stare into the bathroom mirror.

My face is staring blankly back at me as I stand in my old plaid boxers. Suddenly a smile crosses my face pleased with my newly found abs. I’ve been working hard on them.

Working out is one of the few things that clear my mind. Without thinking I found myself tracing the scar. It stretched from my navel to just under the band of my boxers. I trace my fingers over it again; it’s exactly four inches long I have measured it a billion times by now. I then leave the bathroom as quickly as possible I don’t want to look at the constant reminder of a horrific night that I’ve been plagued with. It’s my burden to bare. Taking a quick glance at my wall calendar, something catches my eye. I read the date November 29th, 2010.The date hits me like a car. I try to hold my composure and my limbs feel limp. I let out a single breath and drop down to my knees crying. Letting the river of tears flow down my face I just sit there and cry silently and that date mocks me. God I miss Casey so much.

Casey I’m scared, so scared I’m shaking at least I think I am. There are so many questions to be answered. I’m trapped in a room not able to touch…or feel…I can’t grasp anything either. My hand slides through the door knob. For many days when I first got here I saw my body be examined by the white coats. It gets weirder sometimes time I fade. Blown away like a gust of wind. I actually don’t know where I go. I just know it is dark and lonely. I feel so lost; I still can’t recollect the night or day I got here. The calendar in my prison says months have gone by. Sometimes up to three months can go by before I fade back to this room. But within time I have decided that I am probably dead and that I must be a ghost. Decisions like this really aren’t so hard the last few months I spent confused and crying ghost tears, do they even exist, do I. My lucky day, the door opens and a woman with a white coat walks in. I’m ecstatic when the door opens I sprint, through the door and – I’ve finally left this my prison. I look out into a fairly busy lobby. I chuckle to myself… On a crimson plaque the bold black letters read “County Morgue”.

Emily I slowly crawl into the mess I call a bed. As I look at my bedside table I read the bright red numbers on the clock .It reads 7:30am.Leaning over towards the floor grabbing my standard orange pill bottle from off its side I then pop a few of my “happy” pills as I smile at the big yellow smiley face I had taped on the bottle. I wonder should you still be able to smile if you’re clinically depressed. If I can then it must be possible.

Then again it has been a long time since what I decide has been the right thing.

As I roll off my bed I step onto the floor and something sharp stabbed at my big toe. The pain only fazing me a little prompted me to kneel and palm the small object. It was my silver earring in the shape of an angel wing. It gleamed so brightly in the sunlight you would think it was heavenly. Then I soon remembered my love for this earring, how

beautiful it is with a blood red stone embedded in the smooth metal. The fact that today is the one year anniversary from the night… the night Casey, the most amazing boyfriend I ever had, died. If that wasn’t bad enough I find this earring, a gift from Casey, the most beautiful thing within my grasps, with such a tragic tale to be told about it. The tragedy...all started with me making the wrong decision .Who knew walking home alone was so dangerous. I didn’t. I just sigh and take another “happy” pill.

Joseph I lay across my bed thinking, I pour two OxyContin into my hand. I swallow them dry, things should make sense now. Why I am in this situation now filled with nothing but guilt? Well I guess I can only blame my troubles on myself. For I have become prisoner to life at my own hands. “Welcome to Joesph Correctional Facility meet Warden Karma” I mutter to myself. I remember the day it all went downhill vividly-I remember sitting on the corner of Sample and Auburn road. That night I was with my pal Rick who as always was looking for trouble. Then it all happened so fast a stunning girl walked by .The night would’ve gone alright but Rick again, was looking for trouble, big trouble. Instead of just looking Rick had to touch. Rick grabbed her by her wrist a pulled her to him causing her midnight hair to whip around. I tried to stop him but everything got out of control so fast. The girl was screaming, some unknown boy was leaning against the brick wall bleeding clutching his stomach. And good ole Rick had his own orange handled switchblade pressed against his throat by a bulky figure. I had less than a second to think and Rick’s blade was being dug pretty deep into his skin with each second. The moment I seen blood run down a scared Ricks neck. Nothing went through my head no thoughts of any actions to be done. As if on auto pilot I grabbed the first thing I saw Rick’s pistol lying on the ground, I picked it up and steadied it as the cold metal cooled my sweaty palms. With no warning to anyone a thunderous sound erupted from the barrel. I’m a pretty good shot something I regret now. Suddenly the bulky figure blew back and fell in a slump. Then…the blood came it soaked his clothes it soaked Rick .I couldn’t bare the sight instead I took the cowardly approach. Pushing past the girl I ran Sprinting past all the bad and to the safety of my room. Everything seemed so surreal until the next morning I opened the paper and the heading read “Local Football Stars Attacked “In the right hand corner there were two pictures of two guys arm in arm smiling. Under the picture it read” Right to left Collin Williams; badly injured and Casey Krenshaw; 1992-2009 god bless his soul “I froze I can swear at that moment my heart stopped the face seemed so familiar. Then I remembered the night before I killed Casey Krenshaw.

Collin A raven perches on my window sill. I guess I should feel lucky to see such an elegant bird that you rarely ever see. Frankly I don’t care. My eyes burn red and I feel as if I am going to cry again. I take a breath of air and place a false smile on my face. My mother knocks on my door in a blue robe with a bottle of vodka n hand. I give her a soft hug and choke as I inhale the sour smell of alcohol on her breath…”My baby boy is going

to be so strong just like his Step-dad. “She says into my ear. “I reply indignantly “You mean the freeloader “I grab my letterman’s jacket off my bed. My mom gives me a stern look then says “He’s good for us Collin, please give him a chance. “I ignore her and whisper “Got to go mom” My mother gives me the look again so I just smile and head out of the house.

Walking out of the house was my first bad choice because there sat my red piece of crap Camaro in which Casey bleed out in. The back seat was leather and I can’t afford another car. Today I regret not just buying a bus pass. The thought of all the blood made it almost unbearable to move closer to the car but the part that made my gut twist into a knot was when I swear I saw Casey’s pale face in the rearview mirror…

Emily I refuse to go outside today. I refuse to go out into a world where I’m just a number or a statistic. Curling up on the couch and cling to the little bit of happiness I can still remember. You can never go wrong with watching cartoons. Tom& Jerry play on the screen making me feel a little better. It’s funny how you grow up and look at old cartoons with a different perspective. Jerry was a total little prick and Tom was just kind of vengeful. Cartoons slowly start to suck for me as I realize the protagonist of my childhood represented all the antagonist in my life. The assholes that say nothing and do everything. I clutch the pillow as one came to mind, Rick Langley the bad boy at our school. Really he was so burnt out he just seemed like he was laid back. He was always making trouble. That was until he was pinned with Casey’s murder but we all know that wasn’t true. Of course the handy dandy cops wanted a face to go with the crime more than they wanted justice. I throw the pillow at the wall I know someone else was in that alley. If I could just remember his face .I know if I see him again Id know him for sure. I turn the television to a crappy infomercial for hair loss. I just ruined the one thing that could make me smile today.

Door creeks open as my mother bounds in with a fresh tan. Cheery as normal, she smiles wide and stares at me with sad eyes “Emily…It’s a Saturday morning Hun go out and get some vitamin D.” I hate how she says things throwing her arms up and ending her sentences high pitched as if she’s flying away. Sighing I put on my best smile “Well mommy I’d love to but I’ve just been so busy”. My mother who is not fluent in sarcasm tilts her head to the side and throws her hands up again “Oh don’t be silly I’ll help you with it later darling. Now let’s get you some food. We can go to that Diner you love so much. Reluctantly I get up to avoid disappointing my mother. But my mother’s temper tantrums come with a baking spree that not even a broken oven can stop. I learned that when the stress of a broken over taught us about microwave brownies.

My stomach rumbles and I realize that the diner probably is a great Idea. As I was outside into the sunlight the warmth feels foreign to my skin. Then I catch a glimpse of something that made my heart stop; a rusty old Camaro whizzing down the street.

Collin I grip the steering wheel a staring down the speedometer pushing 40 in a school zone.

Speed clears my mind I can’t wait to make it to the bypass. I give my gas pedal a pump

hitting 60 in a residential. Good thing the streets are empty everyone is sleeping in today except me. I slow down just before I reach the place we call The Trap coined for the 2 and a half blocks of street under complete surveillance by two bitter motorcycle cops. It is the driver’s gauntlet and the only thing that I slow down for. Ever sense that night where I raced Casey to the hospital I’ve felt that need for that adrenaline. I finish the gauntlet and speed to work.

Despite the constant speeding I only arrive to work just on time. Well on time for my standards which is being ten minutes late and dodging my manager on the way to my register. Ducky’s Diner the lamest place on earth. It’s got a nice atmosphere but any place where the mascot is a Duck doesn’t exactly win any awards for awesomeness.

Staring blankly I ahead I wait for the next customer. Then I saw her, Fate is playing so cruel joke on me. I haven’t seen here at all since I got out of the hospital. Hesitating I whisper across the counter as if her being here was a secret “Emily?”

Emily Collins jaw twitched as he said my name. I recognize him anywhere even though he’s grown a bit of facial hair. Staring at me waiting for me to reply I smile and look up across the counter” Hi Collin….umm I’d like a slice of pie please” The only words I can muster up for now. After all I’ve been homeschooled all year by my dad. I don’t expect Collin to understand why I ran. I felt my palms get sweaty and I fumble with the money in my pocket. Looking at me puzzled he grips my hand “Emily, please don’t ignore me.”

For a moment my heart sank I couldn’t leave him alone today because I knew how I felt inside about this date. With a warm smile he slide the plate across the table “One slice of apple pie for breakfast miss “he said sweetly. Then leaning across the counter he whispers “Can you please meet me here this afternoon.” That sentence stuck with me after I walked away. I knew I had to meet him whether I wanted to or not.

Joseph My mind is clear but my stomach ached for food. After spending all afternoon on the “the mountain” I need to eat badly. Boarding the bus at 12:15 I can’t believe half of my day is gone. I sit next to a woman and her gawky red headed child. Swaying on the bus as it drove through the pothole filled streets the sound of my stomach seemed to grow quieter. The little boy next to me found me worth poking and prodding. And his mother saw his curiosity to be adored .Patting my pocket I gave the pill bottle a tap for some form of comfort. The reeking smell of sweat and cigarette smoke fill my nostrils. If I saved some money might be able to have some better transportation. I look out the bus window into the crowd of people I touch my finger to the window. For a split second in the crowd of busy work consumed people I see a confuse one. It couldn’t be … I just saw Casey Krenshaw.

Collin Standing in Ducky’s Diner’s parking lot feels like being at a playground. Kids run up happy and running up to the large cut out duck in the window. Shoving my hands in my pockets I smile. It’s funny how miserable the parents look. Looking at the time on my phone I realize Emily is late its 12:20.I really do hope she comes . I look at

my feet she probably blames me for not protecting Casey. I kick at the ground I wouldn’t blame her. Fumbling for my keys that were weighing down my hoodie pocket.

As I located them in the depths of my pocket the screech of ungreased brakes slide up next to me. Emily smiles and gets out of her car. God it feels good to see something familiar. Knocking on my car door she waves. My hand shakes opening the car door. I need this so bad opening this car door might just make everything ok.

Emily Collin’s dumbfounded look made me feel lost. Was I not supposed to actually come? Climbing into the car memories hit me. Both good at bad mostly bad ones are cemented in my mind now.My hand trembles as I place it on Collins Shoulder. All I remember is the pain in this car. All of the blood the tears. I study his face. How can Collin even drive this car? Collin looks at my hand and touches it’s if he read my mind he gave a faint smile n softly asks. “Do you want to go for a walk?” With a nod of my head I get out of the car. The parking lot was awkwardly quiet for the time. Then a loud city bus comes to a halt breaking the silence .I walk over to Collin and give him a much needed hug .Collin looked puzzled and then his expression began morphing into something different. Gently moving me aside a whispered “That boy over there in the purple hoodie, do you recognize him? “ Among the people getting off the bus I zero in t on one as the dispersed. Studying the boy’s face I then noticed how familiar he really was. By body froze paralyzed in shock. I start to part my lips but before I could utter a word Collin had already started towards him. I can’t believe he’s here on today of all days Casey’s real killer.

Casey I don’t remember the streets ever being so loud. I have meet many like me one my way from the hospital. They all fade away so quickly I really don’t know much about my recent form. I cross the street making my way home a bus hits me. But not really hit me I just pass through seeing feet and tired faces. I’m thrown me off balance its weird how human I feel and how alive I’m not. I start on my way to my street. I walk up on my old home a light green house with crème colored shutters. I close my eyes and remember when I and my dad put those shutters up. I stare down the porch where me and Emily shared our first kiss I miss her. We used to always have a slice of apple pie for breakfast on the weekends. I clench my fist and scream. Why did I have to die?” I look up as a door creaks open my mother steps out onto the porch she looks tired. Where ever my heart is it sinks lower. I don’t like being here it hurts. I kick at rocks n watch them pass through my foot and start on my way away from here.

Collin My feet started moving before I thought about where I was going. I don’t know what I’m going to do I just know I have to confront this guy. I slow down my pace and walked up to the guy who was heading to Ducky’s Diner. I greet with a smile and say hey. The guy looks up n locks eyes with me taking a small step back his face soon fills with shock. I repeat myself and the guy turns to walk away.” I just want to talk.’ I say a little louder. He then breaks into a run. Even if this guy wasn’t Casey’s killer runners

aren’t innocent so I follow. Sprinting down Summit Boulevard I cut the corner close scraping my arm against the brick face of Ducky’s. The boy runs fast just a few yards ahead of me. He sprints further ahead and runs behind Ducky’s making a clean jump onto old boxers and jumping onto the dumpster to make a quick getaway over a backyard fence. I’ve been in a situation like this before in football. I advance faster as if he had the football; except this wasn’t a game. I am greeted with a soft crack and a scream. Looking up I see the broken dumpster lid and the kid nowhere to be found. I walk up to the dumpster with caution and look in. Laying in the freshly taken out garbage that still managed to have a putrid smell laid this mystery boy. The Poor kid knocked himself out.

Joseph God my head is killing me this time I actually need my OxyContin. I slowly open my eyes and jump back. Sending me crashing to the floor. This isn’t my room I wiggle and panic my arms are tied behind a chair. I grind my teeth that bastard kidnapped me. The beautiful girl with midnight hair from my memories peeks around the corner and whispers a few words. The guy who had chased me walks in with an awkwardly friendly smile. I part my lips and croak out a word “why?” my throat is literally parched. The boy turns and nods to the girl “Get him some water.” He says picking my chair off the ground. It’s clear who is in charge.” We are your friends here ok.” He says looking me in the eyes. “The girl comes in with a glass of water and puts it to my lips I take a few sips. Before thinking the smart ass in me takes over. “So friend, why I am I tied up”. He lifts his hands defensively “We just well I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t run” Clearing my throat I muster up a few words “What do you want?” This guy who looked too nice to be a kidnapper but he sure is intimidating. “Why did you run…? The innocent don’t run so don’t lie.” It’s clear that we know who each other are by now so I don’t try to play any games looking down I simply tell the vague truth “I was scared…” The boy nods “Do you know who I am?” I study his face” I know you… I think you name is Collin.” He looks at the girl with no longer friendly eyes “You hear that he knows me!” My face stings and my head flies to the side. “And not once did I get an apology ““Collin stop it!” the girl shouts at him. My heart skipped as he yelled “He did this Em!” he glared at me with devilish eyes “He’s the reason Casey is dead and deserves It.” I swallowed I am now truly scared.

Emily I watched Collin as he hit the poor kid. I felt the same anger deep in me. I want to know why that boy did it and why he seemed to have no guilt but Collins way was wrong. What I did next made me feel like something had taken my over as Collin flung a punch at the boy I yelled “Stop!” and pulled the chair back right against my stomach.

The punch flew through the air not hitting its target and throwing Collin off balance. I double over regretting pulling the chair so hard. My eyes well up with tear through my tears I see a familiar face standing in the doorway but Collin drops to his knees getting in the way. I wince in pain. I guess mission accomplished.

Casey

I do not learn lessons well. Never have, I just wish I learned my lesson about my anger I might be able to be happy with Emily right now. She was the best girlfriend ever .Collin was my perfect wingman… I thought maybe checking in on one of them might be more bearable than seeing my mother. I passed through the door to Collins house. The place was surprisingly clean for once .The moment I head Emily’s scream I was immediately put into action mode. I ran in the directions of the sound. It was weird how I could feel my feet hit the ground. When I got there I actually froze in shock. The most twisted thing I’ve seen in a while. The three main players in how I got here. Emily was balled up on the floor clutching her stomach. The look on Collins face was unrecognizable and the one who stood out the most tied to a chair eyes filled with pain and fear. I actually felt sympathy for my killer.

Collin I stare and my hands and touch Emily’s side .My hands shake what I am doing.

Doing this won’t make Casey come back. I whisper an apology to Emily and she gives a faint smile. The kid coughs and I shoot a look at him. ”Hey kid, what’s your name?” He looks at me scared making me wonder how driven by anger I really was. “J-J-Joseph” he says looking down. I get up untying Joseph looking at his now swelling cheek. “Look here Joseph,” I say. “I’m sorry ok” He stares me “I would do the same if I meet me”.

Untying the rope around his feet I smile trying to seem less scary than before. “Go.” I say with a head nod. The kid takes off running and stops mid-stride in the door. He just froze and fell. I don’t know how the poor bastard could have managed to knock himself out this time.

Joseph I see my exit and run for it I won’t take generosity for granted. Going past the girl I cross into the hall and freeze. My mind goes blank and almost reboots itself. I open my eyes to complete darkness. What just happened? I wipe my eyes and still see nothing. A figure comes into focus. That Collin kid double crossed me I think. “Collin didn’t double cross you.” a deep voice says from the darkness. “What?” I yell confused. The figure walks out of the darkness.” You’re the one who killed me right?” “Yea...” I whisper. “Did Collin kill me?” I ask terrified of the answer. “I doubt it” the figure said as he stepped closer showing the more defined features of Casey. ”T-t-then where are we?” “I don’t know.” he says with a chuckle “You ran into me and then we were here.” I look at my hands puzzled “Oh my god you killed me!”

Casey The stupidity of this boy amazed me. First off I was dead there is no physical way I could kill anyone. Secondly I can’t believe this kid had the audacity to even be angry if I did kill him. If anything it would be fair. Then I watched him drop to his knees and sob.

Even the worst people deserve to be ok kneel next to him and hug him. “I didn’t kill you” I whisper. His tears stop and I smile. “To be honest I think I’m the one who is lost here.” Taking his hand I lead him through the dark corridor. Into a room of flickering light to show him where I had come from. Like a movie moment played on a screen boxes and bins with different years on them. I laugh “hey kid don’t do drugs…” I point

out the memories and the wall or what I think is a wall. He stood there quietly staring at the pictures. “Hey kid, that dark corridor. Look at that sign. He looked at the sign I chuckled am I really in this guy’s head.

Joseph “OxyContin” really there is a section in my head reserved for OxyContin and it is completely dark. I turn and look at the footage and smile. My mom smiles at me on my eleventh birthday plays in front of media can‘t even remember the last time I was that happy. My favorite birthday ever the day I got a….”PSP” Casey says from behind me looking at the screen “they just came out when you got it right” “yea” I sigh. I look away “I sold it for drug money. “A door opens and I walk towards it .I open my eyes to see the midnight haired dame. And standing at the foot of the bed is Casey Clear as day with a big smile of his face. He taps on the side of his head and fades.

Collin I hug Emily she is my rock now. After Sitting at that coffee table listening to Josephs wacky explanation about where he went when he passed out was quite fun. He did know things only Casey could know which makes me relieved and now makes me look over my shoulder from time to time. Squeezing Emily tight I pick her up off the ground.

I have to move on Casey’s memory was the only thing tying me down to this dump.

Now I know Casey is watching over me I can breathe easier. Joseph is still not my number one fan. But he’s not much of a creep when he’s sober. I’m proud of him for that I just wish him and Emily just wasn’t so awkwardly close.

Emily The next couple months actually made for a pretty alright end of the year. I still wear the blood red earrings on days I miss Casey. But they don’t hold so much pain anymore.

It just doesn’t hurt as much anymore. I and Joseph are pretty close now. We sit up of nights on end talking about the little chunks Casey “left behind”Josephs explanation seemed so surreal but I had no choice there is no other reason no to believe it. After all he told the story of my and Casey’s first kiss verbatim. I still keep my distance I’m starting to fall for that part of Casey all over again. I still see a bit of him in Josephs eyes. Just the bit of comfort I need to function. Collin still comes around when he can but with the newfound support I don’t need the “Happy” pills anymore. Turns out Laughter isn’t the best medicine and medicine isn’t the best medicine either.

Joseph I stand on top of a mountain shrouded in white with not a care in the world. I wake up on Emily’s couch .She’s made it her mission that I get clean. I hope her attention isn’t driven by the memories Casey left with me. I’m starting to like her a lot now. I rise off the couch and look at her sweet face. Casey can’t be to mad that imp spending time with his girl .He practically left me the blueprint on making her happy. Regardless the fact for once I’m not alone in something. My struggles are now not only mine. Every

Friday I bring Casey’s mom flowers. Casey asked for tat in a way. I confessed to her too.

That was a rough day for everyone Even Casey. We talk sometimes when I sleep or they could just be dreams. Dreams or not I try day by day to make things better. To build and not destroy.

Casey My lifer was great and now it’s over. It hurts sometimes watching things play out in front of me like a movie. Joseph has been clean as far as I can keep track of. Emily is starting to look at him differently. At first I went all poltergeist a broke a few things but I realized that Emily deserves to move on. Collins red Camaro whizzes by and I fade into the darkness. I close my eyes and take a deep breathe. I don’t know where I am but somehow I don’t feel so lost anymore.

“Friends” by Toiyon In Life You Always Have That One Person You Trust The Most, The One That Make You Smile When Your Angry, When You Need A Shoulder To Cry On Their Always There, When You Need Something You Can Depend On Them, When You Are Scared They Are Their To Meddle You but Make You Laugh At The Same Time, They are Always Their Through Thick And Thin No Matter What Happens, Some People Call Them Sister, Cousin, Mom And Dad But Either Way It Goes That One Person Is The Best One, So Never Give Up On Someone Who Is Their For You.

“Emotions” by Toiyon The First Time You Feel Emotions Is When You Come Out Of Your Mothers Wound, You Will Be Scared, Confused And Happy Because Your Coming Into Something New, As You Get Older You Will Start To Feel Other Emotions, It Could Be Towards You Or Anything Else, Some People Have It To Where They Feel Everything At Once, But It’s a Way Of Life, Without Emotions Their Would Not Be A Life, Life Sets You Up For These Emotions And Things People Would Put You Through, You Will Have Your Ups and Downs, But One Thing You Should Know Is Emotions Come and Go.

“Hate” by Toiyon Hate Is A Strong Word, But When Someone Lie To You, You Feel Betrayed, And When You Feel Betrayed You Want To Hate That Person, No Matter What That Person Say Or Do To Try To Get You To Forgive Them It Will Still Be Their, You Might Move On And Forget About It And Tell Your Self Its Over But When You See That Person That Hate Comes Back Because They Betrayed You, And The Fact That Person Lied To You, You Want To Hurt Them, Hate Is Just A Passion With A Cold-Hearted Temptation Towards Someone.

“Super Problems of Not-So-Super Heroes” by Troy

1. The Big Game Mishap I had no idea that when I started that things could go so horribly wrong for millions of people across the globe. Just like every Sunday night, I was swinging from building to building using my spidey powers. Things were going just fine. I practiced all of my skills, everything from target practice to making quick swings around corners. I had completed everything I wanted to do that night and it was finally time to head home. Just for kicks, I swung a little lower than usual. The lights of New Orleans are beautiful at night!

Unfortunately, I took a corner a little too quickly and BOOM! I got domed by what seemed to be a giant hemisphere. Not thinking much of it, I ached my way home to my condo where I swapped my costume for my pajamas. I then limped my way over to the sofa, which i plopped down on hard. I turned on CBS to watch the second half of Super Bowl XLVI, but it was dark. Oh, I guess that makes sense. Oops! Spiderman isn’t perfect either, kids!

2. Relaxation Can Be Difficult What I thought was going to be a relaxing night started off with a fresh bowl of popcorn. I made my way to my favorite couch and stretched out from end to end. I turned on the television and began to slouch a bit too much. My rear end started to sink between the cushions. I tried to stop this from happening, so I turned to my side which which knocked over my bowl of buttery goodness. I reached down with an outstretched hand in effort to pick up the spill before the five second rule expired. I reached under the sofa, where my hand got stuck. At that time, an extremely annoying commercial came on that I could not stand. I reached across the table with my free hand to grab the remote when the couched toppled over me. My rear end was still caught between the cushions, my right hand was pinned under the couch, which was on top of me, which also pinched my left hand between it and the table. What a mess!? To make matters worse, my one year old puppy, who has a bad chewing habit, came over to gnaw on my foot. He picked it up and dragged it across the room!

Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t Mr. Fantastic.

3. Creating Our Demise I feel ashamed. The prosperity of America is in question, if it will even exist in the future. I was only trying to help, but I obviously just killed our future. We’re going to be leaderless, at least for now. There won’t be a president elected this year.

It’s November 8, 2016, Election Day. Every year, millions of Americans show up at the polls to cast their vote. Not this year, not a single one, all because of me. Why did I make the fateful choice of going to the campaigns and debates? I can’t stand liars! I let them get the best of me. Now I, Wonder Woman, am going to be blamed for this! Why did I use the Lasso of Truth?

4. Blind As A Bat After a long, rough night at work, I was finally done catching bank robbers and putting killers in their place. I pulled into my cave and got out of my priceless babe of a car. Just as I shut the door, my keys slipped right out of my hand. I heard them crash onto the concrete. The interior lights went out. You’ve got to be kidding me. I forgot to turn the cave lights on first. Should I just step to where I think the switch is? Ow! No, that’s not it. Whoa! I just tripped over something. Looks like I’ll be laying here for awhile. It’s pitch black. I can’t see a thing. I hope Alfred gets here quick! It’s awesome being Batman, but it’s terrible having bat vision!

5. An Unwanted Hero This is hands down the toughest day of my career. Just last night I was on the streets, halting and embarrassing “tough guy” criminals. Earlier this week I made the front cover of National newspapers for catching and locking up the most wanted criminal in the city. Tough stuff, right? Wrong. Today is ten times tougher than that. I haven’t gotten a single call to work today, I’ve just been laying on the floor all day and night. Look at me, an oversized, hairy man like myself has to cry on a day like this. I’m a lone wolf! It doesn’t matter that I’m a super hero. No one wants me. Who wants this ugly face and long claws? No one. No one wants Wolverine on Valentine’s Day!

6. DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! Why do I let such little things bother me? Something breaks, my plans fall through, or I forget something. These things drive me crazy, and it’s very easy to see. Then I need something, anything, to take it out on. Lucky for you, that something is criminals. I could be having a horrible day or a great night, then one more thing goes wrong. Take a look at last week, when my favorite show on MTV was cancelled. I went out that night and threw a jaywalker through a brick wall. He learned his mistake the hard way. Some people try to tell me to calm

down, or maybe take some classes. No! UGHHHH! I’m angry! I need to take this rage onto the crime filled streets. If you say I’m hottempered, you’re wrong. I don’t turn red. I’m the MIGHTY HULK AND I TURN GREEN!

7. Underwater Hopes It’s lonely down here, too lonely. There’s not a single person within miles. How could there be? I’m in the abandoned city of Atlantis. I can’t even ask fish where to go. Even they know to stay away from this unholy place! They’ve heard about the thing, the thing that should not be. It lurks here, beneath the sea. Here I stand, waiting in the cold, wet darkness, like a blind man. How did I end up here? I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I don’t know how to find my way out. I’m able to shoot water from my hands, but what good will that do me here? I’m underwater but can’t even help myself; it’s a taste of my own medicine. I know the thing is coming, getting closer, here in this prison. Now I will just say goodbye. Aquaman’s hopes have been washed away.

8. Doomed In “Paradise” It’s hard to believe I’m finally here! It’s been a lifelong dream to vacation in a place like this, a place I’ve never been. This week’s my chance to get away from crime fighting for awhile, in the Bahamas! I hope the day doesn’t slip away too quickly. This beach chair is the most comforting place on the planet. I love kicking back and laying down!

I’m beginning to sweat a little, no big deal; I’ve got plenty of ice cold, bottled water. But now the temperature is rising, or is it just me?

Where did this heat wave come from? Other people seem to be having fun, after all, what isn’t fun on a beach? I might as well just sit up for a second. I’m trying to push myself up, but my hands can’t get a grip. My fingers are sliding through the handles of my chair. I’m soaked. I’m getting thinner. I try to call for help, but words drip away

from my mouth, and even my mind. I make one last, full strength effort to move. I can’t. My legs appear to have evaporated. I’m doomed. Iceman’s time has melted away.

9. The Regret Of A Hero I only thought I was making the best move for myself. I was sick of being a side kick, sick of being under his wing. Nobody ever noticed me. No one ever appreciated how much I did for them. I received zero recognition for my work. Yes, my work, not his. People just gave him all the credit. Then I quit. I’m on my own! Freedom! I started to become my own super hero, molded from my own motivation to be noticed. No longer was I in the back seat. And it was great, for a time. Now I’m starting to miss those days. I learned so much from that great man that I have now taken for granted. But now there’s no turning back. Why did I choose to do this? I’m tired and lonely without Batman. I, Nightwing, just want to be Robin again.

10. Powers Less Impressive Than Yours There’s got to be more to the superhero life than this. Seriously!

Why do we even exist? Yes, there are two of us. We’re a tag team that can’t exactly work together. Not because we hate each other, we are twins! But because one of us is lame and the other is mediocre!

How did we get stuck like this? We literally need each other to activate our powers, which stink anyway. So many people want to be a superhero, but who would even want to be us? We don’t even want to be us! We’re wrapped in purple all the time too. I can be an animal, not in reference to being awesome, but literally an animal. When I do that, my brother turns into a bucket of water. How cool is that? Not at all. Well, see you later, folks, the Wonder Twins are leaving the room to go cry in the next one.

“Love And War” by Toiyon Love Is Like War, People Will Fight For What They Want, They Will Beat And Kill Anyone Who Come Near Their Love, They Will Protect Their Love With The Sound Of Their Voice, They Will Get Jealous For And Over Their Love, People Will Use Their Mischievous Ways To Keep Their Love Next To Them, To Feel Their Touch, To Hear The

Sound Of Love, And To See Love, Is One Of The Most Beautiful Thing For Someone Who Has Never Had It, That’s Why People Use Love To Be Another War, In Life With A Good Sense Of Affectionate Life.

“Parents” by Toiyon Parents Are Their To Take Care Of You, And To Treat You Right With All Of Their Love, They Are Not Their To Hurt You And Make Feel Worthless, They Are Suppose To Spend There Money On You And Spoil You, But Some Parents Don’t Do That They Don’t Treat Their Kids Right Or They Get An Bad Addiction And Forget about Their Kids, They Always Make Them Seem Worthless And Like They Cant Do Anything, If You Only Have One Parent They Will Treat You Like Nothing Because They Are They Only One Taking Care Of You But That’s Just An Excuse Or Because You Messed Up Their Past Relationships Because Of There Selfish Way But If You Don’t Want To Be A Parent Give Your Child To Someone Who Will Be One.

“Money” by Toiyon Most People Need Money In This Life Because They Are Broke But Most People Just Have Money And Don’t Do Anything With It But When I Get Money I Like To Go Shopping For Clothes And Shoes And Food and Things Like That But Its Fun You Will Have Your Broke Days And You Will Have Them Days When You Got Money But You Spend It All As Soon As You Get It But You Need Money To Stay Alive Even Though It’s a Piece Of Paper.

“What Started as Love” by Tori

I'm not sure where I was before I met him. All I know is that I was pretty low. I was buried below rock bottom. I remember, sleeping pills, bottles of God knows what, and floors, always on the floor, in random people’s houses. I remember walking out of whomever’s house wondering where I was, how I got there, and how I was going to get home. I met him at one of the wake up on the floor houses. He took me home. He took me home a lot. I guess now that I look back on it he was always there. That's probably why I began to like him so much. Consistency, he was constantly in my life.

No matter how stoned, drunk, or a combination of the two that i was he always managed to get me home. Eventually, we moved in together. Why not?

He always slept on my couch when he took me home anyway. After awhile we stopped going out like that. We started going out to diners and movies instead of parties. I enjoyed it and why wouldn’t I? I finally found something to pull me out of the depths and I wasn’t going to let it get away from me.

Not this time. I loved this guy.

It was Friday, our date night. We always went somewhere. Earlier this summer e went to the lake and watched the sun go down over the water, sometimes we went to a movie, or out to dinner, last week we went on a double date with my best friend and her boy toy, but today was different.

He kept avoiding my question every time i asked him where he wanted to go.

He'd just shrug and walk out of the room. I let it get pretty deep into the afternoon almost evening when i asked for the final time.

"Hey babe, where are we going tonight?"

Will you stop asking me that?" He snapped.

"Damn, I just want to know so I know what to wear..."

"Wear that." He said, I was in jeans and a hoodie.

"What?" " Wear that."

"You know I never go out in this."

"Exactly, because you're not going out."

"I'm not going out? So then you are?"

"Yup." "You do know is Friday right?"

"Yup." "Which is our night out."

"Not tonight.

"Where are you going then?"

"Don’t worry about it.”

"Excuse me?" He's never done this to me before, "What's your problem?" " I'm going out. I'm sorry. I’ll be home.... Late." He said, grabbing his keys and leaving.

Late... Great. Now what was I supposed to do. Cry. I was going to cry. And I did for probably half an hour before I called my best friend. I cried more when she didn't answer. I had slipped back under the surface and I was gasping for air, hoping someone would throw me a line to save me.

I had really liked how our date together had started. Sharing stories and cracking jokes just like we did in the beginning of our relationship. No bull.

We were just sitting at the movie theatre talking, when it started. He started talking the way I hate, interrupting my sentences, ignoring what I say, literally destroying his own progress. I tried to hold it together but I felt like I would explode and I did...

"Will you stop interrupting me? I like to talk sometimes too."

"You just interrupted me soo no. I'm talking."

"Excuse me? I don't think so. I just sat here for 10 minutes without even getting a sentence out and you've switched topics about 7 times. Maybe I have an opinion or a thought about what you were saying."

"Why are you being such a bitch today?"

"Me? I’m being a bitch? You are so funny... I haven't said anything bitchy all day. Where did that come from?"

"You're always on my ass about something. Just shut up!"

"This is the first thing I've gotten to say in the past twenty minutes!"

"I don't care! You need to get yourself together, all this has gotta stop."

"News flash! You're the reason I'm like this right now!"

"Yea right, I haven't done anything to make you like this."

He said getting up from his theatre seat.

I just stood there, burning inside from hatred and disgust. I had no words, none that I should say in public that is.

"Spoiler alert, the chick gets hit by a bus at the end of this movie." He said as he excited the theatre.

"Fuck you!" I said as I chucked my drink in his direction. The people in the movie theater just stared at me. "Can I help you?" I snapped at the guy in front of me who quickly turned back around. I escorted myself out if the building and walked home. If he was in the house when I got home he was never going to come out, alive that is.

Ever since he ditched our date night, he's been acting really weird. He won't tell me what's wrong, he won't really speak to me, he won't even really look at me. I feel like I've been put in time out for a crime I didn't commit and then forgotten about, just sitting in the corner. Alone.

It was Friday again and i decided i wanted to get a little more than shrugs out of him.

"Hey it's Friday."

"Mhm."

"Wanna go out?"

"I'm busy."

Again?! My brain screamed.

"Where are you going this weekend?"

"Out with some friends."

"Which ones?"

"My friends... Don't worry about it."

"Really? I just want to know where you're going to be so I don't get worried about you."

"Uhh... I'm going to the bar with the guys."

Lie! My brain screamed again.

"Ok..."

"Be back late. Bye." He said leaving.

"Bye." He's a terrible liar, I shoulda said "uhh I’mma punch you." Where the hell was he going? Not the bar! What did he have to hide? I don't care if he goes to the strip club as long as he doesn't bring one of them back with him...

Another girl... He had to be with another girl. But who?

My inner investigator came out... His phone... I’ll bet he took it with him...

Nope. There it was laying on the arm rest of our couch...

I snatched it up and unlocked it. His background was us. I felt bad for a millisecond about going through his stuff but isn't it what's mine is his and what's his is mine… right? Sure! Plus he might be cheating on me... Sure enough, I scroll through his texts and there is another girls name... my best friend’s name. I open the conversation and the last text is "I’ll be there in 15." It only takes 15 minutes to get to her house. I read through the rest of the conversation and when I get to the top i see a naked picture of my best friend saying "ill be waiting for you (;" dated the same night he ditched me.

I closed his phone and threw it on the couch. I sat on the floor in shock. I forgot how to breathe for a minute. Those fucking backstabbing whores.

When he gets home, it’s on. "... I know what you've been up to... You..." I was cut off, "Shut up! You don’t know anything!" He yelled at me.

Every muscle tensed in my body and i grit my teeth together so hard my

tongue barely had time to escape it clutches.

He stormed off out into the garage. I heard the engine rev and the squealing of his tires as he drove off again.

I didn’t care. I didn’t care if he never came back. The stupid bastard left his wallet here and only took the car keys, not the house keys.

It was bad enough that he yelled at me in his whiny little kid way, but he interrupted my sentence. Wouldn’t even let me finish my thought. That really pisses me off to no end. I swear to God if he cuts me off in the middle of my sentence again I'm going to cut out his tongue... It’s so annoying! It didn’t help his case in the long run anyway, that only proved to me that he really is a lying, cheating bastard. I hope he gets hit by a bus on his way to her house. Then she can sit up and wait for him like I do every night when he’s with her. That would be sweet revenge in my eyes.

He screamed back, "Even if I did have a secret, I wouldn't tell you!" I walked away before I punched him in the face. We didn't say a word as I turned. As if he deserved to ever hear my voice again. Silence, the best

move he'd ever made. He wants me to talk about what's on my mind when he won't even talk about what's on his. Not like I need him to tell me. I know what's churning up there and it certainly isn't a single thought about me. It’s everything but me. I'm not important to him, I'm just the girl on his arm. I don't have a name, a face, or feelings. And why would I? Even if given the opportunity to explain how I feel I wouldn't say anything because no one cares. I don't need anyone, and I definitely don't need him. I'm better off on my own. It’s time for me to start over and I'm never ever coming back to this, ever.

I had no idea when we started that things could go so horribly wrong.

Between you and I, that is. I never thought you would betray me the way you did. You made it look so innocent but it wasn't. I saw right through it. You're a monster. I can't believe I wasted my time on you. Two years full of tears, rage, and regret just so you could throw me in the trash. I should've known better. I should've took more notice to the forgotten calls, the way you tried to sneak back into our house when you've been out way later than you said, the secretiveness of your phone calls, emails, and texts, your silence

whenever i brought up her name. My best friend. I bet it burns to hear her name now. Now that you're in my position. Down in the dirt, well you will be soon. Six feet deep. Sounds nice right? And guess who can't save you now?

That pretty lady that loved you. But which girl am i talking about? I guess we'll never know. I hope this is slow and painful for you. Just like our relationship was for me. Eat dirt.

I lay awake at night watching the candle light. The flicks time up with the song in my head.

Creating shadows that dance on my walls.

They play scenes of love and death.

They dance and dance until I feel like I’m dancing with them.

The candle burns steadily, without a single flicker Then the song ends.

The candle goes out.

But I still see the shadows on the inside of my eye lids.

They're there to stay.

They haunt my dreams as I try to sleep.

But the next morning, I won't remember a thing.

Dear "best friend", I'm writing this letter to tell you how much I truly hate your pathetic guts.

You are not slick or sly. You're a dumb cow. You thought I’d never find out

what you and MY boyfriend were doing. You were oh so very wrong. I saw your texts, calls, and pictures. Just so you know, you need to go to the gym, the abs you had at the end of our senior year, 5 years ago, are now gone. It’s gross. Clean that shit up. Cause ain't no other man gonna come chasing after that. Also, how drunk were you when you first texted him saying, “hey we should be together." ‘Cause you certainly weren't sober to be coming after my man. I thought you were much better than that. But maybe I was wrong.

I guess you traded your brains for boobs. But those are flat now too, just like his heart rate. I hope you enjoyed sitting up waiting for him. I know I did when he was with your pathetic back stabbing ass. It was exhilarating wasn't it? Well if you were curious as to where we are now. I’ll have you know that I am doing fine all on my lonesome without either of you. And for him? I'm sure he's doing just fine wherever he ended up, or down. If you find him though, you got what you deserved you back stabbing bitch.

Hate you.

From, your ex best friend

I am invisible because people refuse to see me. Society has created an absurd image of what a human is and should be. I do not qualify. I have no thoughts or feelings to anyone that isn't like me. There are seldom of us who are our own person, that don't live up to the standard of others. I'm fine on my own but I wish the others would open their minds and see being a conceited asshole that only cares about money and looks is ridiculous. They wonder why they can’t find love and happiness... It’s because they forgot what it’s like to care about someone other than themselves and their wants.

Maybe after their hearts get stomped on a few dozen times they'll figure it out. But, until then I’ll be here waiting in silent bliss, with my happiness and my own opinions and ideas, completely invisible.

“Jealousy” by Toiyon Jealousy Is A Feeling You Get When Someone Has Something Or Someone You Don’t Have, It’s a Bad Thing To Feel, But When You Feel It, It Makes You Really Think Then You Start To Feel Insecure, In A Way That You Don’t Want To Love Anything You Are Or Have, Some People May Not Feel Jealousy But That’s Just A Way Of Life And A lot Of People Go Through It, And It Damages A lot Of Hearts, Jealousy Is No More Than Feeling Alone Against Smiling Enemies With Passion.