Response Assignments

You know…it’s true. I never learned to truly love somebody.

Trust me. That was okay with me. I would much rather give Cupid the middle finger than hold hands with a slightly clammy-handed boy. I was never really much of a fighter, but I sure as hell was never a lover. Despite that, I was voted most likely to fall in love, which could not be any farther from the truth. The joke is a whole lot funnier whenever you see the strained smile on my face in the yearbook, frozen in a disgusted grimace. Everyone knew that I was not the loving kind, especially that high school prep queen, Dana Hall, and her squadron of beauty accessories falling right behind her. I really never gave two fucks about what Dana Hall thought. I just was not much of the caring type either. Love just wasn’t my thing, or at least I thought it wasn’t.

I was right to never find love. Love found me. And I could not have been more terrified.

***

“You might as well get out of here and never come back.” I could see my dad’s grisly face frozen in obvious disgust, tomato-faced with eyes bulging from their sockets. Mom would stand away quietly, looking towards the kitchen, fiddling with the stitching of her dress, wondering if messes would stop popping into her life. Who knew that popping me out would be one of their most gigantic mistakes?

I was a bloody mess coming out of the womb, screaming and wailing like a banshee out of hell. Mom and dad smiled over their new boy, tears glistening in the corners of their eyes.

“What will the name be,” the doctor reminded my honeymooner parents.

“We’ll call him…Lucas,” my mom decided.

“Lucas Batch it is,” mutters the nurse as she writes the name on the birth certificate.

“God Lucas…you’re such a dramatic asshole,” I relayed to myself. It was like a cycle. Every time I even thought of mentioning the “gay thing,” I would stumble back into this loop on repeat. Riding my bike home, pedaling faster and faster, flying through the scenarios of how it would happen. I always come back to the same conclusion.

Disowned. I would be disowned. Coming from a religious family hell-bent on feeding the gays to the flames of hell. Well…I think it gives me just a little reason to keep secrets.

In the right pocket of my black denim jeans, I felt a buzz pull at the lining. I pulled out my phone to see Reed’s friendly face come up, answering the call the best way I knew how with Reed Ferris.

“You’ve got five minutes,” I spit out before he began.

“Party at Jake’s house. Right now. Be. There. Or else I will personally kick your ass.”

“You know I hate parties. Specifically the people there. No offense,” I quickly tried to redeem my answer.

“Trust me, I know just how terrible the people I party with are. That’s what the booze is for. Come ooonnn Lucas. When was the last time you did something for yourself?” As Reed does, he hangs up whenever he says what needs to be said, and refuses to acknowledge it again unless I don’t listen to him.

“I swear Reed,” I sighed as I pedaled. Normally I would have been content with going home and facing Reed’s insults the next day, but tonight, was not like most nights. I came to the fork in the road where I’d have to decide.

Go right and face my parents.

Go left and face my peers.

Neither of them sounded all that fun. I could either go home knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would not have a family anymore. Or I could go to the party where everyone that hates me, and the one person who doesn’t, will be drinking their guts out.

I don’t think I’ll ever know why I turned left. I think it was just blind thoughts. Blind thoughts I processed too late. I pedaled faster and faster on that left road, watching the air turn into waves of motion around me. Was it the fear? The adrenaline? The excitement?

Hell, I don’t know why I was so pumped about going to a preppy bash surrounded by people that never cared about me for one second.

Abruptly and quasi-impressively, I grinded to a halt, scratching the corner of Dana Hall’s new 2019 Corvette ZR1. I could hear the shrill whistle of her scream inside the car, practically pushing the door off its hinges.

“YOU!” She stormed to the rear end of her car, make-up halfway done, wig a little too far to the right, grinding her teeth together. “Oh, it’s you…Lucas Batch. My favorite little piece of…sin.”

“Keep your opinions to yourself until you finish off that little piece of…sin in the back of your car,” I point at the rearview window where a shirtless guy is looking out, waving confidently in a drunken stupor.

“DEREK! GET THE FUCK DOWN!” Derek gives a thumbs up and drops down from sight, leaving an irate Dana Hall, fuming over the scratch on the back of her corvette.

I walked off, ignoring the rest that came out of her mouth. It took my entire willpower to force myself up the porch steps, maneuvering through groups of untouchables, surviving the weird looks and eye rolls, until Reed rushed me from the side with a bear hug.

“Welcome to the party dude,” Reed yells a little too loud, but the hint of Cuban whiskey on his breath was the only answer I needed. He pulls from his back pocket an unopened can of Bud Light, thrusting it into my right hand. I looked at it, reservedly and evasively, doubting my decisions. “Look dude, drinking here isn’t that different than drinking with me?”

I fiddled with the aluminum lid, looking at him incredulously.

“Right. We are drinking together. Except we’re also drinking with the other 99% of our high school. The same 99% that’s treated me like shit for the past five years. That’s different.” I turn away for a second, unsure of myself.

“But I’m still here aren’t I,” Reed asks me, convincing me yet again to do something stupid. He always knew how to make me tick.

I popped off the aluminum cap, pushed the beer to my mouth, and chugged it all down.

I could equate love with the taste of a beer, but that’s an insult to the beer. The warmth tingled its way down my throat and into the pit of my stomach where all the magic happens.

“Let me take you…to meet some…friends of mine,” Reed sputtered out between his sips of beer. He grabbed me by the shoulder and practically dragged me with his drunken hulk strength. We stumbled through and around too many people to count.

That’s when Reed brought me over to a section of people in the corner, sitting on a roundabout couch, chatting about anything and everything probably. It wasn’t until I got really close that I realized who they were.

It was the Untouchables. THE Untouchables. Reed just dragged me over to meet…THE Untouchables?

I was fucked.

“…Reed really must be drunk off his ass…” I whispered over my shoulder.

“Hey guys, this is my friend Lucas,” I awkwardly flashed a smile and gave a wave. David Patel, entrepreneur-in-the-making, sat cross-legged while Yoselin Herrera, up-and-coming actress, laid her head on his shoulder, looking like one of those chic couples that should be on the cover of a celebrity magazine.

“This is David and Yoselin. They are business and pleasure in the flesh.” Yoselin swatted at Reed’s shoulder as he shied away jokingly.

Yoselin opened her mouth to speak, but I completely forgot she even had a vocabulary whenever I saw Johnny Prater, with that devilish smile and golden hair. I couldn’t help but drool over him, but luckily for me, he was so close to straight that he makes a pair of rainbow overalls look masculine. Even though he’s not wearing them, the point is the same. He’s pretty straight.

“Hey Johnny,” Reed dribbled out of his mouth, “have you met-“

“Lucas?” Johnny Prater just said my name. I feel like Alice in the fucking rabbit hole. “Yeah, I’ve seen you around school before.”

Holy fucking shit. He’s talking to me. Wait. He’s…talking to me?

Well, fucking answer before he gets freaked out.

“I guess that answers the “are you blind” question,” I awkwardly joked. I expected crickets in the background, an eye roll or two, and don’t forget the awkward silence. But instead everyone laughed. Actually laughed. I wasn’t sure how to react. This wasn’t the normal high school socialization I was used to and for once people were not treating me like shit. The Untouchables seemed quite touchable in fact…especially Johnny. He had a nonchalant beauty about him. It’s the kind of beauty that everyone looks at, but is not entirely appreciated.

Hot and sexy. That’s what they say about him. I could see the faint marks of happiness in his jaw and the tinges of romance on the edge of his lips. Those lips make me appreciate beauty. He put a beer to his lips and I followed in suit. What the fuck Lucas? I drank another swig. Lucas…you’re drunk. Again. Stop drinking! Again. Again. Again. Luca- I didn’t have any time for my thoughts. I chugged another till they were all gone. Johnny looked at me with his eyes and that was the only way we communicated.

At an unfamiliar doorframe in the house we stood, silhouetting against the bed in the middle of the room. Johnny ran his hand up my face, gently and softly. Slowly, he cupped my chin with his hand and leaned in.

I felt his lips touch mine, soft at first, but then a little rougher.

Then I felt scared. Even more scared of love than before.

A brisk slap to the face sobered me out of my dazed thoughts. I looked up and saw a fist coming at me, connecting with my nose, sending a shiver of pain throughout my body. I fell in front of the bed.

Everything was blurred, except for the realization of who was hurting me.

Johnny. Johnny pushed me onto the bed.

I felt force all over my body. His hands dug into my skin like gravel spilling across my body.

He gripped my shoulders, harder and harder, until I felt the darkness edging in on my sight. Johnny smiled at me and I could only think one solitary thought as my sight faded away.

Is this what love feels like?

Then nothing.

***

Blares of sirens and highway cars woke me up from my stupor, my head pounding from a nasty hangover. I sat up, feeling pain radiating all over my body. I couldn’t stand.

I sat there, undressed and shaking, not sure whether I should cry or go home?

I guess this must be what love feels like.

I wrung my hands till they were white, cursing myself for being myself. I decided that maybe sitting there and in love was better than searching for it.

Love found me.

And I couldn’t be more terrified.

2.

Loving a child through a broken heart

Growing up Samantha lived what some would say an uneventful life. The beginning was very happy but the years after that, the days seemed to be a different life. Samantha’s household was broken by the separation of her parents Steve and Lorena and at that time Samantha’s world changed forever. Samantha soon realized that the things she always said didn’t bother her actually did to the point where she resented her mother.

Samantha went through her pre-teen and teenage years trying her best to stay under the radar from any and everyone. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned. Samantha got into trouble just to get attention like most kids did at this age when they aren’t receiving it at home. Samantha would ditch school to hang with friends, even though Lorena would watch Samantha walk to school every day from her 23rd floor apartment window. To all of her friends, Samantha had a loving and caring mother but that’s not what she truly had at all.

Samantha doesn’t have any memories of being with her mom that most young girls have such as getting manicures and pedicures, baking cookies and just having fun times. All of her memories are of playing tennis, taking swimming lessons, and ordering Chinese food every weekend with her dad. Then all of a sudden the weekend adventures just stopped, well changed and that’s when things changed forever for Samantha. Samantha only started to have memories of her mother being in the picture when she was much older.

Remember how it was always just Samantha and her dad? Well, Samantha soon found out that she spent so much time with her dad because her mother was in nursing school. At the time Samantha didn’t even realize that that is why she spent so much time with her dad, but that is how mentally checked out she had became from her relationship with her mother.

Samantha’s world changed on one sunny Saturday morning. Samantha ran down the short hallway of her mother’s two bedroom apartment into the kitchen to pick up the ringing phone and at the very moment her dad was picking up the bedroom extension. The only thing that Samantha heard was her uncle Richard saying that he was on his way to help her dad move out. Hearing this very sudden and devastating news was news that destroyed Samantha forever. After hanging up the kitchen phone she slowly walked back towards her bedroom with her head hung low and she started to think about all the memories she shared with her dad and she quickly realized that yes, her dad was moving out but he was not leaving Samantha in a sense of abandonment. Samantha hoped and wished that her dad would have taken her with him when he moved out but Samantha was ok with staying behind because she knew that even distance would not break their close bond.

At this time Samantha’s memories of her mother began all Samantha remembers is Lorena always being mad and somehow blaming her daughter for her dad leaving. Samantha hated the thought of having to live with Lorena and depend on her for everything that she needed but Lorena always made Samantha feel as if she never wanted her.

Now around this time Samantha who was15 was beginning to develop her teenage body and started being noticed by guys who made her behave in ways that would bring her attention. Because of her low self-esteem issues while being involved with some pretty cool guys who Samantha enjoyed spending time with she was in desperate search of something that she never really found in those guys.

Due to the fact that Steve was now out of the house and Lorena didn’t seem to care too much about Samantha she was never taught about the birds and the bees or the ins and outs of understanding sexual relationships. Samantha found out through trial and error how to do things starting in the eighth grade. Unfortunately, Samantha soon found herself pregnant at 17 while a junior in high school. Without any love and support at home Samantha had to have an abortion all by herself because she did know that she didn’t want to be a parent at this time. This was something that Samantha knew she couldn’t share with her parents because she honestly felt that they wouldn’t have cared anyway. Since it was the weekend Samantha still had to go to her dad's house like nothing was wrong. This was a moment of having to keep a smile on her face while feeling like she was dying mentally and physically on the inside. Samantha had no one that she could really talk to because all of her friends were dealing with the same thing but unlike Samantha they had their mothers to lean on.

A few years later at the age of 20 Samantha gave birth to a healthy baby girl Renee. Because Samantha wasn’t taught too much about how she should be treated by men she ended up dating a guy that worked at the security desk of the apartment building that she said with her mother Lorena. This guy wasn’t the best choice for Samantha but also not the worst either because he did help her bring her beautiful child into the world. And now Samantha could love and support her daughter the exact way that she wanted to be loved and supported when she was a child by Lorena.

From eighth grade through high school, Samantha lived two lives. It was Monday through Friday where Samantha had to go to school or pretend to go to school. Samantha would be in attendance but rarely went to class. Lorena never checked to see if Samantha was doing assigned work or anything. She didn’t seem to care so neither did Samantha. Whenever report cards came out Lorena would become upset with Samantha because of failing grades but Lorena never offered any help to try to motivate Samantha to earn better grades. At some point after continuously failing in school and life, Samantha decided that she was not going to let the love and support that she didn’t receive from Lorena be the continued downfall of her life, Samantha wanted better for herself. This is when Samantha began to take control of the direction my life was going. 

Then there was Friday through Sunday that Samantha spent with my dad. We had a routine that Samantha loved to bits. Steve delivered dinner to his daughter every Friday evening, picked her up every Saturday afternoon for their sleepover, and took her out to breakfast and to a movie on Sundays. That second life is what got me through every single thing else in my life from that day to this day. Those were the only days I felt loved, genuinely cared about, and liked.

A few years later at the age of 20 Samantha gave birth to a healthy baby girl Renee. Because Samantha wasn’t taught too much about how she should be treated by men she ended up dating a guy that worked at the security desk of the apartment building that she said with her mother Lorena. This guy wasn’t the best choice for Samantha but also not the worst either because he did help her bring her beautiful child into the world. And now Samantha could love and support her daughter the exact way that she wanted to be loved and supported when she was a child by Lorena.

Because of Lorena’s actions, Samantha swore to her own daughter as she was being wheeled into the delivery room almost that she would never ever feel that kind of pain. Samantha held onto the relationship with Lorena just because she was her mother. This was the worst thing that Samantha could’ve done.

Samantha finally realized that she needed to end the relationship between Lorena and her, when Lorena seemingly turned on Renee and began treating her as she did me. Ironically, Renee was the same age as Samantha was when she began being treated badly. Samantha and Lorena ended up being estranged for several years.

Samantha will always love my mother but it has to be from afar.

3.

Triggered

As Layla was preparing to go to work, she couldn’t help but see that the fridge was near

empty, the bills were piled onto the counter, and the house resembled a disaster zone, because

honestly it was one. Before leaving, she jotted down a grocery list of things that she would pick

up after a full work day, mentally took note of the bills needing to be paid and picked up the

miscellaneous items cluttering themselves around the house. She was drained. Mentally.

Emotionally. Physically. She looked at her husband lounging comfortably on the couch and

jealousy raged its way through her body. Yet, she knew that she couldn't say anything to him

because he was in control. This is exactly how he wanted things to be.

Justin slowly sat up and looked through Layla with the same grimace that made her

certain she had to follow orders. He was menacing, controlling, and made sure that nothing Layla

did made her happy.

" I hope you know that we need food, the bills need to be paid, and you really should keep this

place cleaner." Justin said in such a deep and raspy voice. She hated him but she was so afraid to

leave, because she knew that he would find her.

She had first noticed that something was different about him shortly after they had gotten

married. There wasn't the same connection that there once was. They had lost it somewhere in

the monotonous routine that engulfed their lives. Along with losing each other, Justin just

became angry with life. When he realized that he didn't have much control in the real world he

turned to the one thing that he knew he could control, Layla. Yet that wouldn't be for long.

Layla walked out of the house and into the rain that was charging itself to the ground.

Tears plummeted down her face in perfect rhythm with the rain, because at this very moment,

she didn't know where life was taking her next. On the drive to work, Layla let her mind wonder.

When Layla and Justin first met, they instantly hit it off. They both had such strong feelings for

each other and were comfortable being themselves when they were together. The connection was

undeniable. Now, she was afraid to be around him. He didn't physically harm her, but he made it

very clear that he was not afraid to. This specific day was when it was all going to change.

Layla's work day went by painfully slow as she played back the relationship in her head.

Right as Layla was heading to clock out, she was notified that she had an emergency phone call,

that she needed to answer immediately. Her heart started hammering in her chest and her hands

were trembling against her control. She gripped the cold phone in her shaking hand and was able

to mutter out the word

"Hello"

" Is this Layla Wilson?" The deep monotone voice questioned on the other line.

"This is she"

" I don't know how to tell you this Layla, but your husband has been involved in an accident."

"An accident?" She calmly questioned.

" We will be able to explain more to you in person, are you able to meet us at the police

department immediately?"

"Yes, I'm on my way" she barely was able to choke the words out of her throat and she felt like it

Her mind was so lost that she couldn't even remember the ride to the police station. Her

body was so exhausted from all the stress she had been enduring, but she could tell that it was

finally over. She sprinted towards the door and was greeted by the monotone voice from the

phone.

"Hey Layla, I'm officer Mills, I talked to you over the phone."

"Yes sir, it’s nice to meet you."

"Please follow me this way." Officer Mills led Layla down a very narrow and white hallway that

seemed like it went on forever. Finally, the officer stopped in front of a door at the right of the

hallway and fumbled his giant glob of keys until coming across the right one. He put the key in

the door and it opened almost effortlessly. They walked into a room that only contained a table

and a couple of chairs. In fact, it perfectly resembled the rooms in the movies where criminals

were interrogated.

"Please have a seat Mrs. Mills, there is a lot to discuss." Layla inched herself into one of the

chairs and nervously sat across from the officer.

"Mrs. Mills, your husband has been shot inside your home."

" He has? Is he dead?"

" Yes, he is and we have reason to believe that you were the last one to see him."

" That's impossible" she tried to convince herself that she was incapable of killing him but she

honestly couldn't remember anything that had happened prior to her going to work.

" Is it? We did find a handgun registered in your name at the scene of the crime."

Layla was silent because she now knew that whatever happened that morning ended in a deadly

dispute and this time she wasn't the victim.

" I can’t remember what happened this morning." She said with the most confidence that she had

all afternoon.

" You can't remember shooting your husband?"

"No" Layla started to realize that even though she had finally escaped. She didn't.

" Layla this is murder. Someone's life that is now gone. And you are saying that you can't

remember."

" Officer, I didn't kill my husband. My husband is the one that killed me."

Officer Mills had a look of confusion as he went to ask another question.

"Layla, did you shoot your husband"

Layla stood up, her entire body was shaking as the memories rolled in. Justin had hit her.

That morning she had finally tried to stand up to him and he fought back. Hard. He was not going

to let her get away with it, so she thought there was only one-way out. Out of fear and desperation,

she grabbed the gun that was in their home and she fired it. She had escaped from him. She had

shot him.

The officer was getting very impatient now and as he looked at Layla waiting for her to admit to

the murder of her former husband Justin.

" Layla, I am going to ask you this question one more time and I really need you to answer me

and tell me everything or we are not going to be able to help you. "

" Officer, maybe I did pull the trigger."

4.

Sunflower

I will try my hardest to tell the story exactly as it happened, but it’s been a few hundred years, you know. Are you ready? Sitting down with a snack, perhaps? Okay then, a long, long, time ago, in a land with dragons and wizards, trolls and giants. Where the tops of castles are hidden in the clouds and they all live happily ever after. You get the picture? In this particular land, there lived, as there always is, a King. His father’s, father’s, father’s, father, had come to this land and built a beautiful kingdom, right out of a fairytale some may say.

As was the tradition, every King had three sons. Each son would grow up tall and handsome and then one by one they would leave the castle on their trusty stead and never return. Everyone always figured they were off fighting the dragon to rescue the damsel and live happily ever after. You know, as they always do. The third son however, would stay and one day be crowned King to carry on the tradition. Except this time. Because for the first time in five generations, the queen gave birth to a baby girl. Her two older brothers watched as she grew up to be just as smart and courageous as they were. They saw as she charmed the most cunning of wizards, jumped off the most dangerous waterfalls, and made the funniest of jesters weep at the sound of her beautiful singing. For the most part she and her brothers got along perfectly, except when one day they all rushed down to the royal kitchen to eat their royal breakfast and discovered the princess stood two inches taller than both of her brothers. It came as a shock to them all to say the least. The King however, was just as proud as ever of his little sunflower and continued to watch as she outgrew her brothers. The townspeople sure did talk and we were all sure the King would never find a Prince tall enough to marry her. It was all over the Ye Olde Tabloids.

Anyway, the day finally came that it was time for the first and second sons to leave the kingdom and do whatever it is that they were supposed to do. Their royal steads were saddled up and led around the front of the castle. The princess looked longingly after her brothers as they rode off into the sunset.

What would she do without them to race around the castle grounds, or challenge to a duel? Her father would surely try to set her up with a Prince now! All night long she cried and cried until finally her father knocked on her door.

“My daughter, I know you are sad, but you are keeping the entire kingdom awake with your crying,” the King said, sitting down next to her. “Tomorrow I will buy you the cutest puppy in all the land. Will that make you stop crying?” Personally I think that is a little condescending, I mean the girl just lost her only two friends in the world! But, what do I know? Plus, who can say no to a puppy?

The next morning I heard a knock at my door. Of course I am not an early bird, so this was a terrible inconvenience. But, as the only witch in the kingdom, I find myself in high demand. As I yawned and stretched, I finally made my way to the door, and there stood none other than the King himself.

“Good morning, your majesty, fancy seeing you here.”

“Dearest friend, is there anything you can do to help me? As you know the princes just left and the Princess is not taking it well at all. She cried all night and so I promised I would bring her a loyal companion. What do you have as far as talking dogs go?”

This was a common request, but for my friend the Princess, I decided on something extra special. I shook some sand and abracadabra, the dog was talking. What can I say, I’m a wiz! The king took the puppy to the Princess and they became quite good friends. She called him Robert, after her favorite musician. He had long, silky blonde fur. She even made him a red collar to wear, although he didn’t need it, he was at her side day and night. For two years they did everything together.

One day, they were taking a walk in the royal garden when the trumpets blew and all of the royal court gathered round to see who was arriving. I myself had been in the neighborhood so I decided to stick around. It took me no time at all to see that it was none other than a neighboring Prince, riding up on, you guessed it, his trusty stead. Now there is something you must know about this Prince. He had been visiting all of the neighboring Princesses in the land without any luck. Our beautiful Sunflower was the last Princess in all the land. As he approached the Princess, sitting so delicately in the garden, he reached for her hand to kiss it. As she stood to greet him, a shadow casted over the Prince’s face, for she was a good four inches taller. He was flabbergasted. Over the next few days the Prince took the Princess horseback riding, canoeing, to fancy dinners, you name it! Our sunflower was having the time of her life of course, except for one problem. The Prince only wanted to do things if she was sitting down. He would find any excuse for her to be sitting. Now you know our lady didn’t like that! She wanted to be out and about, feeling the wind in her hair!

However, she was smart, and she knew that the height different really bothered him, so one day while out walking in the garden she pretended to fall. She called for help and mysteriously was not able to walk afterwards. The Prince ate this up, wheeling her around the castle in her wheelchair, telling her stories and fetching her anything she needed. She was happy.

At night she sat in her room, petting Robert. She told him about how wonderful and dreamy the Prince was. How brave and bold he had been on his adventures. Her dog sat listening until she grew quiet.

“But he doesn’t like that you are taller than he is. And now you can’t take me on walks or race through the garden.”

“Small price to pay for true love,” she replied.

The next day the Prince asked the Princess if she would be able to go horseback riding. She secretly missed it more than anything, so meekly she told him she thought she could manage. When the Prince helped her up on the horse she swung her right leg over the back of the horse just like all the times before.

“PRINCESSES DO NOT RIDE THAT WAY. PRINCESSES RIDE SIDE SADDLE!” She gasped at his outburst, but because she loved him so much, she put her leg over the saddle horn and rode like a lady. He tried all day to impress her by jumping over tree stumps and fences. She decided to impress him by jumping a fence as well.

“Ladies do not jump fences,” he scoffed.

“Well, I’m a lady, and I just jumped a fence.”

Dumbfounded by her reply the Prince rode away, calling back to her, “Ladies are to be seen and not heard anyhow.” The next day when the Prince came to pay her a visit, mysteriously her voice had vanished into the night. The Prince was overjoyed to wheel her around, and tell her all of the impressive feats he had conquered. She just smiled and listened. That night she sat in her room, petting Robert. She had to whisper as she told him about her day because no one could hear her talking and spoil her secret.

“But now you can’t sing me pretty songs and tell me funny jokes!”

“Small price to pay for true love,” said the Princess.

Now I watched this go on for weeks and finally it came time for the royal wedding. The Princess who was once the life of the castle had faded into the stone as the Prince stole the show. He charmed the ladies in waiting, as well as the King and Queen. The whole kingdom was enamored by him. Except for me of course, what do you think I am, a toad on a log? The day before the wedding, the Prince came to visit the Princess in her chambers. He told her about all of the adventures he had been having around the kingdom, going on and on. Suddenly he looked over and spotted the dog.

“Once we are married, you know that dog will have to go. He makes me…itch.” The Princess, unable to talk of course, just shook her head no. The Prince, knowing full well he would get his way just stood, kissed her head, and said goodnight.

Robert looked confused, “He will get rid of me and you’re going to let him.” “That will never happen! We will just hide you under the bed.” I know I told you she was smart, but I think the Prince was rubbing off on her. “That will never work Sunny,” said Robert, as sadly as could be. Looking up with his big brown eyes he said, “You know, I loved you before.” The Princess sat petting him, thinking of any way to keep the lovely Robert, knowing the future looked dim.

The day of the wedding came, and everyone in the kingdom was invited. I myself even showed and I was wearing my best cape of course. The sun was shining, birds were singing, but I couldn’t help but notice the Princess looked sadder than ever. My dog was the only thing that kept me happy after my brothers left. I told him my secrets, and loved him more than anything. But I love the Prince too, what will I do? She ran up to her chambers and fell to the floor. Robert padded over and laid down in front of her. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, brown eyes looking up at her. “You have taught me a very valuable lesson.” “What is that?” “You love the Prince very much, that I can see. I will make this easy for you, for you have taught me that one must give up everything for love.” Robert put his paw on the Princesses hand and closed his brown eyes. She stroked his golden fur, until she noticed Robert had become very still. She sat straight up. “Robert!” She exclaimed, startling the royal staff because no one had heard her utter a word in weeks.

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the beloved Robert had breathed his last. I would never admit it, but I myself may have shed a tear. Our beloved Princess stood, lifted Robert up and carried him through the palace. This shocked everyone, because no one had seen her walk in weeks. The Prince of course was dumbfounded. “Wha.. what.. how?!”

“True love, that’s how! Robert was the only one who truly loved me for me, and now he is gone, all thanks to you!”

“Now, now, sweetie be reasonable. The dog means nothing, because now you have me!”

With that the Princess remembered how strong she used to be. “Goodbye, Prince.”

Robert was buried on the outskirts of the palace walls and the Princess went and visited his grave every day. She planted a sunflower over his grave and since I had really taken a liking to the girl, I made sure it grew as tall as she.

One night, a man rode into town on a trusty stead. I know, predictable. He had shoulder length, golden locks. He was hearing a suit, fit for a King. In his hand he carried a sunflower. The princess, looking longingly out her window, as most sad princesses do, spotted the rider and ran outside to meet him. “Who are you?” she called out to him. Going against everything her parents taught her about stranger danger, might I add.

“My name is Prince Robert,” he called, “I am not sure where I have come from, all I know is I have been on the road for a long time.” She thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and his voice sounded awfully familiar. As he handed her the sunflower, she prayed a tiny prayer, but it wasn’t heard. As Prince Robert jumped down from his horse, his boots hit the ground. Staring down at him, the Princess let out a sigh of defeat. But I am happy to announce that the Prince replied perfectly, “What an honor to gaze up into the eyes of such a breathtaking Princess,” he said, the moon reflecting in his big brown eyes.

Pretty good, even if I do say so myself.

5.

Secrets in the Attic

The screen door opened with a slight creak when Anna let herself in. It was a familiar sound, but one she had forgotten about. It was odd to enter the home of Beatrice and Howard Gable now that they were both gone. Her parents had always loved it in this house. It was their family home, but now there was no radio playing in the den, or pans rattling in the kitchen. It was empty of the life that had once made it her home.

Anna slowly ascended the stairs to the still dark attic. The air felt thick with dust and trapped memories. She had rarely ever entered the space in her life, even when she lived in the home. Even now, it gave her a sense of dread. As she fumbled for the light switch in the dark her heart was in her stomach, but it had to be done. The movers would be here tomorrow, and she had to organize all of Mother’s belongings-the attic was the last room on her list.

Really, she had no reason to fear the attic. This is what she told herself as she took in the space before her. It was an organized chaos that had built up through the years. More than anything, Mother had treasured keepsakes. She would keep anything that had a memory attached to it. Thus, the attic was full of reminders.

Anna began her task by going to the small window pulling back the curtain and opening it. One single ray of sunshine came into the room and made the dust coating the surfaces sparkle. She began with the clothes cupboard in the corner, taking down old raincoats and silky dresses that hadn’t been worn in decades. This was a part of her parents lives that Anna did not remember. The part before she was born and their lives changed. Anna was an only child and her mother always said that she was their miracle baby. Thinking of her parent’s life prior to her entrance, she fingered the garments a bit more tenderly. She took in their texture and style. Tried to overcome the smell of mothballs and focus on the bit of old perfume that she could sense on the dresses.

She then moved on to the photo albums that had overtaken the shelves of the attic. She packed away the first few unceremoniously but couldn’t help cracking a few open and studying the pictures inside. She saw her parents as they had been in her childhood, her father wearing his usual ball cap and her mother in her favorite dress. They were so young. Seeing their pictures just reminded Anna how much they had done to show her that they loved her. She came across one album that was full of her school pictures. They had one for each grade, with her school art projects tucked into the pages of the album. She went through each album now before she put them into boxes. There were so many snapshots of their lives. They captured the moments that Anna would have to hold onto now that they were gone. The preserved the memories that her parents had held so dear.

After she had them all packed away she moved on to an old cedar wood chest that was nestled in front of the window. She tentatively opened the lid and was met by a cloud of dust. When it cleared, Anna’s eyes settled on a treasure of knick-knacks. Old snow-globes from trips, postcards, and important papers were all tucked away in the chest. She pulled out the first sheet of paper and read the words GRACE ADOPTION AGENCY. It took Anna a minute to process what she read. She never knew that her parents wanted to adopt another child. Her eyes scanned the page and what she found shocked her to the core. The papers were for the adoption of Annabelle Claire and named Beatrice and Howard Gable as her guardians. She was adopted.

Anna sat back onto the hard-wooden floor. Her parents had lied to her for her entire life. They made her believe that she was their child. They raised her like she was their own. She wondered how they could just pretend. She began to wonder if their affection for her was real either. How could they care for her if she wasn’t even theirs? Anna was suddenly furious.

“How could you do this to me?” She whispered to the dusty attic and all the secrets that it held. “I thought you loved me enough not to lie to me!” she cried. She had so many question and none would be answered. They left her with nothing to help her understand. She wasn’t their miracle baby like they said. She wasn’t even their baby.

She went back to rummaging through the trunk, hoping to find answers to her questions. None of the papers were any help. It was a closed adoption so her birth parents were not listed. By this point tears were beginning to form in Anna’s eyes. Betrayal and anger were ever present as she pillaged the chest. After all the papers were gone, her hand fell upon the smooth surface of a small box. Her curiosity got the best of her and she pulled the box from the chest. It was white with little pink and blue flowers painted on the side. The top had her full name written in swirly cursive. Anna removed the lid and instantly regretted her anger. The first thing she saw were a pair of her baby socks with a little strip of white lace at the top. They were folded with great care. She put them to the side and kept looking.

The next thing she found was a lock of curly brown hair tied with a green ribbon. She knew that it was her own before reading the tag on the ribbon. It read, Annabelle’s First Haircut. They had saved it without her even knowing. She laid the fine hairs in their ribbon next to the socks. The next object in the box made her laugh a bit through her tears. It was an ugly Christmas ornament that Anna had made for her mother in the 4th grade. She had painted their names on it in green and red. It had been here, safely tucked away all these years. She set it aside with the others.

Anna continued pulling out countless treasures from the floral box. Each one just as special and precious as the last. Her parents had saved them all. Every little thing that marked a milestone in her life. They kept it all because they loved her. It suddenly dawned on her that it didn’t matter that they weren’t her birth parents. It didn’t matter that her mother didn’t give birth to her, she loved her as if she had. As she got to the bottom of the box she noticed an envelope. She gently opened the crisp paper and unfolded the letter within. She was astounded to find her mother’s scrawling script addressing the letter to Anna.

She began reading and was instantly so grateful for her parents. They knew that she would one day find the chest and discover the secrets that it held. They knew that she would have questions. They knew she would be confused and hurt. They knew because they knew her and they loved her. As she read the letter, Anna soaked up the words of her parents. Here in this attic, surrounded by their belongings, it felt like her parents were still with her. Comforting her with their kindness and gentle words. She no longer noticed the darkness in the attic, or worried about the smell of the mothballs in the wardrobe. She payed no attention to the dust and the clutter that covered the room. Everything in there, every last keepsake was precious to her now, even more than it was before. Because it was owned by the parents who loved her, even though they didn’t have to. After she finished the letter, she carefully folded it back into its envelope. Anna returned all the treasures into their box, and tucked it under her arm. She stood and surveyed the dark room one last time before turning to leave. Anna descended the stairs from the attic that no longer seemed scary of foreboding. The memories were no longer trapped and there were no secrets that now needed to be kept. She took in the silence of the downstairs and thought of the people that had loved her like no other had, and with her keepsakes tucked under her arm, she exited through the creaking screen door.

6.

Mommy

They have always told me the grass is greener on the other side. How, if you push yourself hard enough, everything will fall into place. Go harder. Go faster. Be a slave to this society. Work yourself to death on minimum wage while waiting on the one call that could change your life for the better. That’s what they said.

Standing on the edge of the train platform at midnight is not how any of this was supposed to go.

I was so close to getting my degree. One more semester and I could be a full-fledged adult. I could leave Pizza John’s. I could leave that old furniture store. I could work on paying off my debt. I could be a slave to the corporations while trying to sell my art work in my spare time. I could paint my free days away and pretend to be carefree as a blackbird singing.

I tried to be a good person. I don’t have much money, but I gave him some anyways.

Tanya would wonder where I am. We had been roommates for our entire college careers. Four years sleeping in the same small room as another person requires both patience and compassion. We had our fights. We always worked through them. We had learned that communication was key. It was one of the first lessons I had learned as a child.

How was I supposed to know he was carrying a concealed weapon? Is this why all of these teenagers have been marching? So that this doesn’t happen?

I got my compassion from my father. He would always take my hits for me. Mother was a mean soul. She knew what she was doing when should would spit foul language at me and dad. She told me that she wished I had never been born. It’s not like I asked for this! I didn’t ask to be born to her or this cruel world. She brought me here. Why was she so mean an’ hurtful?

I remember the sound of the gun cocking, resonating throughout the empty train station. I just wanted to get home.

I was gonna get to see Daddy. It had been a whole semester since I had seen him. I really needed a hug. Daddy loved me. He kept me away from mom. She had hit me with a baseball bat and broke my arm when I was 12. The doctors asked me how I had gotten a broken arm. Momma looked down and shook her head. She laughed and had said I fell out of a tree. Kids will be kids she said. I didn’t meet the doctor’s eyes.

It was a moment that you can only imagine, the feeling of flesh being torn apart by a small metal object going 2,500 feet per second from 30 feet away. I didn’t stand a chance.

Daddy took me to the park when momma was away on her trips. We couldn’t leave the house normally. I couldn’t even go to school with the kids I would play with at the park. Daddy would push me on the swings and I would pretend to fly far away from Mommy. Somewhere like Texas. I heard Momma doesn’t like to go there.

Blood pooled on the front of my favorite hoodie. Red mixing with blue making a sickly, sticky, violet color. The force pushed me backwards, flailing, clutching at my chest.

It’s dark here. The grass isn’t greener. It’s just dark. They lied. Why did they lie to me? What did I do to anyone? I was a good girl! I loved my Daddy. My Daddy loved me too. Now I will never see him again. Why? What did I do? I wanna go home! I want Daddy’s hugs!

Can you say you know how it feels to be shot? Ran over by a train that was supposed to take you home to Daddy? Betrayed by the life that you tried your best to live? Have all your memories, both bad and good… Good? Daddy?

Mommy? I remember. You used to be happy. You used to love me. When did that stop? Why did you turn bad? Was it because I wasn’t like other little girls? Because I liked the taste of the outdoors? Who did I play with? Who was that little boy of faded memories? His smile was infectious. Did I have a brother? The boy was older than me. He took the lead when we played. He was Peter Pan and I was a lost boy… Chris. Christopher. Christopher Smithers… My brother? Why can’t I remember more details? He was warm like the sun. Mommy would call us inside and we would laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Mommy and Daddy would laugh too.

When did this all change? Why? Where did Chris go? I miss Chris.

I remember a winter day. We were at school and the snow got so bad our parents were called in to come get us. Wait I used to go to school? Before Chris left? Why did Mommy bring me home? I had so much fun at school. Snow. That’s right. The snow. Daddy was the one to come get us from school. We lived out in the country. A small town too. There was a big chicken farm. Big trucks would come for the eggs. It was a snowy day.

I hurt that day. I was in the hospital. Daddy was too. Where did Chris go? Mommy was crying. Daddy was holding her crying too. Mommy wouldn’t look at me. That’s when Mommy turned mean. When Chris left. I don’t know why. I missed Chris too. Why didn’t she realize how she hurt me? Did she blame me? I couldn’t have stopped him from leaving. I was four Mommy. Did you just love him more? I missed him more than Mommy knew. Daddy knew. Mommy blamed him too. Why? It wasn’t our fault. I wish she hadn’t turned so mean. Chris would have been sad too.

What’s Daddy’s real name? I don’t know. I can’t remember my name. Sam? Samantha. That’s my name. Right? Right? Why can’t I remember? I feel lonely Daddy. I can’t remember how your hugs felt. I can’t feel anything. It’s so dark. I can’t see anything. And quiet. I used to be able to do these things… right? Daddy I miss you…

I miss you…

Daddy…

I miss…

You.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s warm. There is no time here. I can’t remember who I was. How I got here. Everything is gone. I’ve started picking up small sounds though. Maybe they are trying to take me from here. It’s warm. I don’t want to leave. Please don’t make me leave. Last time it hurt so bad. Last time? I don’t actually remember. It’s on the tip of my tongue. What’s a tongue? Don’t make me leave.

Light blinds me. Where am I? It’s so cold though! I take a breath. It smells sterile. Cheers overpower my senses.

“It’s a boy! Congratulations!” a man in a blue robe shouts. He slaps me on the bum. It hurts. I cry.

“Oh sweetheart. Let’s name him Christopher. Christopher Allen.”

“That sounds perfect honey. Our little Chris.”

The man in the blue robe passes me over to the woman. She smells good. Like home. She’s warm too. I fall asleep almost instantly. Maybe this time will be better… Mommy.

7.

Writing Letters to Santa

December 23rd, otherwise known as one of the busiest shopping days of the year, well right next to black Friday that is. Usually at this time a lot of people do there last-minute Christmas shopping at this time. This also means that it’s the last chance for kids to tell Santa there wish list. Well they don’t tell Santa directly; most people call us “mall Santa’s”. Just something you can bring your kid to get them into the Christmas spirt. You could say my jobs pretty great, I have a lot of bright eyed kids tell me what they really want, we get a picture, and then they leave. However, people don’t get the full story. By the end of the day I have to remember hundreds, sometimes thousands of children’s names and correspond that to what they want for Christmas. Why, do I have to memories this you ask? Well to send a letter to Santa of course.

You may think that ridiculous considering you may have been told that Santa isn’t actually real. You see that’s what the media wants you to think. Think about it, if there was really an old man giving out free stuff that your company is selling you would want some of that profit as well right? That’s were my job can get a little “dangerous” or “sketchy” like the kids say these days. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve received constant threats by various companies through the phone to not turn in the list by the end of the night. That doesn’t really phase me though, because by the end of the night nothing really happens. However, some of my other fellow “Mall Santa’s” say that they’re getting a little bit more aggressive with their tactics.

I just got done writing the last name and gift. “Chandler Russell and he wants a Gameboy Advance with a Pokémon game. I swear all kids want these days are those video game things”. I get up from My desk and start to head off to deliver all the files. I start walking down the hallway to where I parked my motorcycle. As I’m walking I see one of the janitors, I think his names jerry. He’s a slender fellow with dirty blonde hair and he’s one of the few people that stays the night in the mall to make sure everything gets cleaned up.

“Ah Santa, Good thing I caught you this time, can you make sure I get a smoking hot blonde under my tree come Christmas”, said Jerry jokingly. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that bud” I laughed. “Ah oh well, you have a good night Mr. Vixen” said jerry. “Yea, you to sport” I said as I started to open the back door. I don’t know why I parked so far away this time. I make my way through the parking lot as my boots make prints through the snow. The parking lot was pretty empty at this hour, just a few cars and a couple of lights lighting the lot. I finally make it to my bike and I start to secure my bag to the back of the bike. As I was doing this a couple of black vans approached me. There lights blinded me for a little bit and then a couple of guys got out of the vehicle, it appears like they’re wearing suits.

“Alright fellas, what is this about.” I said. One of the guys in the suits walks in front of all the other guys. “Ah, Happy Holidays Santa” said the man. “Yea yea, Merry Christmas.” I scoffed. “allow me to introduce myself, my name is Will Dickson. It’s nice to meet you Santa, or should I say Mr. Vixen.” Will extends his hand outwards as to give me a handshake. I look at his hand and I look back at him “what do you want?”. “Well Mr. Vixen we heard that you did some fantastic work today” one of the guys hands Will a piece of paper “Over One thousand and three hundred kids today.”. “Yea? Is that so? Are you here to give me a promotion or something?” I start getting closer to my bike to where my back is up against it. “well sort of, not really. See we were wanting to help you deliver the list, you know to give you a little break from this very busy time of the year” Will holds out his hand. “Nah, I think I got it from here boys” I said as I started to put my hands on my bike. “Oh, I think you may want to reconsider” He motions over to the guy on his right and the guy reaches back in the van and pulls and assault rifle. The man points it towards me. “Now then, Mr. Vixen, I would hate for Santa to go missing right before Christmas.” Will said as he made a snarling grin.

I start to put my hands up “alright alright, there’s no reason for that, let me just grab the list from my bag” I turn towards my bike and start shuffling my hands through my bag. I know that they’re not going to let me go unless I give them this list. I can’t just give this list to these guys, too may families are relying on me right now. I know what must be done. As I shuffle my hands through my bag I can fell cold metal in the palm of my hand. Alright its now or never. I swiftly turned around with the pistol I had and aimed for the shoulder of the guy who was pointing the gun at me. As I pulled the trigger everything seemed to be in slow motion. I felt as the gun kicked back, and the flash lit up the surrounding area.

Then I could see the man slowly begin to reach for right shoulder as he dropped the gun. Time started slowly coming back. I knew I had to go now! I hoped on my bike and started the engine. I heard as some of the men were yelling “After him!”. I felt as my bike started accelerating and I was soon on the road. I wonder if I was fast enough? I slowly start to look back and I can see one of the vans getting closer and closer to me. I look forward and focus on the road head of me. Luckily it was late at night so there were no other cars on the road. However, the only thing illuminating my way were the street lights and some near by buildings. I heard a long bang with a whizzing noise near my left ear. They were shooting at me. This was not going to be easy. I had to lose them fast. I recognized the road I was currently on and new there was an abandon factory nearby.

I swiftly tilted my bike left as I turned left on a road that hasn’t been paved in a long time. As I turned I could see the lights of the van soon follow me. I knew that I could not stop. As I kept going there soon were no street lights and all I had to rely on was the light on my bike. Then before I know it I see a hole in my way. I managed to barley dodge it in time. I look back for a split second and I see the van get stumbled by the hole, however that didn’t manage to stop it. I was approaching the factory now. I forgot what it was used for, but I knew that I would be able to go through the factory doors. As I made it through the doors I could see to the left of me that there was a ramp that was tilted in just way to where it was centered with a window. Also, I could see gas tank to the left side of the room. I knew what had to be done. As I made my way towards the ramp I could see the lights of the van begin to fill the empty factory. I could also hear the gun shots that were constantly happening as they entered. Alright, I only got one shot at this. As soon as I ramped off the ramp and started gaining air I manage to grab my pistol that I tucked into my waist belt and pointed it towards the gas large gas canister. I pulled the trigger and as soon as I did I could feel the heat rushing to my back as the whole factory began to be engulfed in flames. I could also fell the glass ripping my coat and a shard grazed the side of my left cheek.

The next thing to happen is I felt my bike land back on the ground as I sped off from the factory that was up in flames. I did it, it was over. I could feel my heart racing, It felt like I was bound to have a heat attack. “Looks like this old dog still has a few new tricks” I said to myself as I made my way to the delivery point. The delivery point was a red letter-box that was located at random points of the city. It would be different every night and before we start we are able to know the location of the red box. I don’t know how it manages to be in different spots every night, I guess you could say magic or something. Well we are dealing with a man with flying reindeer, so I guess anything is possible at this point.

The letter box was located at the edge of the city, illuminated by street light just off the road a way. I park my bike on the side of the road and start heading towards the letter box. As I make my way towards the letterbox I could start to feel the snow gently land on my cheeks. I felt my left cheek to see how deep of a scratch the glass left. It wasn’t too bad, by the ride over here the blood had already frozen over due to the cold weather. I was just a few feet away from the box. This was it, or at least that’s what I thought. I heard a loud bang followed by a sharp pain in my lower back. My body began to drop to the ground, I couldn’t catch myself. I felt my face hit the snowy pavement. I was not about let it end like this. I rolled over on my back and reached for my gun. A soon as I saw the end of a shoe as it kicked me in the face forcing me to loosen my grip on my gun and tossing my gun away from me. My vision was all blurred, but I could see Will as he over me with a gun. Will looked pretty beat up from what I could see.

“Well sorry Santa, but I believe this list belongs to me” Will says as he reaches in my coat and pulls out the files. Will Start to make his way towards the letterbox. “No, you can’t” I said as I began to turn on my stomach. I could see my gun, but it was way too far for me to be able to grab it. “Oh well you see Santa I just did, and to think you were soo close. Well I’m going to go back home to enjoy a warm cup of hot cocoa. Merry Christmas!” Will said as he turned his back towards me and began to walk off. “Yea merry Christmas…” I said as I slowly reached for something in my boot. “Ya filthy animal” I grabbed my knife and chunked as heard as I could. I watched as the blade moved swiftly through the air as it pierced through the back of Wills neck. I could see as the blood launched from his neck as his body fell in the same rhythm as the snowflakes that were falling down.

I made my way to the file and picked it up. I propped my body up as I placed the file through the slit through the letter box. It’s done, I thought to myself as I started to make me towards my bike as I was clutching my stomach. My vision started to get even blurrier. I could feel the world rocking back and forth. This is it, I fell to the ground and I rolled on my back. I can’t go much longer. I could see everything slowly begin to get brighter. All I could feel were the snowflakes gently landing on my face. The light kept getting brighter and brighter. Then I started feeling something else, I’m not sure what, maybe someone’s hands on me. “Is he going to be ok?” “yea he’ll be fine, just get him to the sleigh as quick as you can!”. I couldn’t make out who was talking but I felt as my body slowly being lifted off the ground. I felt safe. I slowly began to close my eyes.

8.

Palindrome

Node 1:

A rusted cell door creaks open one last time. The unimaginable realization began to consume Mac. He was escorted by familiar firm hands, but to a long-forgotten place.

No friends or family waited outside for Mac to be released. The only one there was a man in the car that had brought him there to begin with. The man was older now, but wore the same blue uniform adorned by a bright silver badge. His sleek look contrasted Mac’s broken presence. With the prison fading in Mac’s side mirror, his driver broke the silence.

“Do you think you’ll make out here?” he questioned.

“This is where I begin.” Mac answered.

Node 2:

Mac had planned for this day for a long time. After finding a way to live himself, he spent every moment working and saving. For a long time, work was all he could do. The time he spent making amends for what he had done taught him how to work, and he was able to put it to good use. Mac wrote a check leave himself only enough to get by.

This check was placed in a small envelope that was then handed to a frazzled woman who seemed to be hurry around always late for some event. Opening this envelope froze her jittery hands in place and caused her normally chaotic rhythm to still. She found the check was made out to the food bank she supported.

She became overwhelmed and told him, “This is too much. Thank you so much.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Mac walked away feeling he had started to put those rusty cells behind him.

Node 3:

Mac’s hair had grown out from his buzz cut he had when he left. His clothes consisted of simple articles he got after he served his time. Although he had attempted to act like a different person, he wouldn’t let himself look like that sleek driver. The work that took up so much of his time distracted him from forgiving himself and taking a moment to care about how he feels in his own skin.

It’s the support he received from those he worked alongside him that allowed him to slowly accept himself. Without ever opening up to them, they still accepted and eventually promoted him. He allowed himself to purchase a new wardrobe that was still simple, but less broken. A mirror also made a new edition to Mac’s home.

When Mac looked in the mirror he could confidently say “This is me.”

Node 4:

Mac came home to an empty house and was content with that. He thought about contacting people he used to know, but he couldn’t make that step by himself. It was his sister that reached out to him. She was as tall as him, but he remembered her as the small little sister that asked him, “Why are you leaving?”

Later he was reintroduced to all of his family members. Seeing them was a dream Mac had given up on, yet there they were. With time the wounds they all had healed, and he was able to share his stories with them. He still did what he could to help the community, but he shared that with his sister. Work became less like work because he was able to share his day with his family.

“I’m glad you are here.” Said mac’s little sister.

“This is where I want to be.” Mac replied.

Node 5:

Trays of food filled tables and hungry people filled chairs. Mac helped serve at a food bank when he got extra time off. He would also sometimes help pick up trash on state trails or walk shelter dogs with his sister. Donating money wasn’t always an option but helping out in any way was always important to Mac. This was no longer because of his guilt; it was instead something that brought other joy which meant more to Mac the older he got.

Mac left work and began walking home. A mixture of dirt and spring filled his air, and without noticing it was happier than he had ever been. His life wasn’t extraordinary or tale worthy. His life was normal and simple like his clothes; however, it was something he thought he could never have again.

“This is where I stay.” Mac smiled.

Anode 1:

An air conditioning unit rumbled in its attempt to keep a small apartment cool. Beth had just gotten back from his mediocre job. Work didn’t appeal to him in the slightest, but it paid for his needs. The apartment was clean which matched the clean look Beth wore. Occasionally Beth’s parents or siblings would visit with hopes of hearing more about Beth’s life. Friends would also visit and compliment the put together lifestyle Beth led.

The first occurrence was a simple shoplift. Being short on cash didn’t make Beth humbler. Food items lined his grocery store; it was just a matter of what he could hide the best. When shoplifting turned to theft, fraud and drug trafficking became a way to provide instead of work. Beth began replacing parts of his normal life with crimes and lies.

“I head you lost your job. Are you going to be okay?” Beth’s big brother asked while visiting.

“Oh no, this is where I begin.” Beth answered.

Anode 2:

Family visits became less frequent over the next few years. Paraphernalia from Beth’s new source of income covered the once clean tables and beds. Beth began communicating less and less with other people. The door to his apartment only opened when he needed food. New luggage laid open on the floor filled with what few belongings he had.

Before Beth left his apartment and home, his mother stood in his doorway for a final visit. Her long brown hair, which matched her sons, shaped her face like a painting. There was a distance between the two that was never supposed to exist. She was smart enough to know what was going on, and that she was losing him.

“Why are you leaving? You can tell us your stories.” Tears began forming in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Beth said while closing the door.

Anode 3:

The first thing that Beth got rid of were all of his mirrors. He used to care about the things he wore and how he presented himself, but he didn’t care about much of anything anymore. After leaving his home and family Beth didn’t pick up any new people to talk to. Without someone there to talk to, his thoughts began to consume him. He paced the motel room attempting to solve problems he had created for himself.

The button up shirt he brought from his apartment was splattered with stains and was complimented by equally sloppy pants. The long brown hair was now a buzz cut. This helped him make a new persona. Doing less and less work made it harder for him to stay focused. Beth sat on the single bed and pressed his sweaty palms onto his face. Attempting to remember the person who lived in his old apartment became more difficult each day.

Beth looked up at a bare wall, “Is this me?”

Anode 4:

Beth had this day planned for a long time. He barely had enough money left to live on. Through a few rumors he learned that a local food bank was given a big donation. This was his chance to get back to having what he wanted when he wanted it. Although there was a plan, it was not made by a stable man. Beth opened his motel room door, and for all the wrong reasons left behind his broken motel room.

Money fell over the cold and wet sidewalk when Beth was pinned down by someone wearing a blue uniform. He hadn’t even run when he saw the person running toward him. A woman with a sleek bun began shouting blurred words as Beth. He realized slowly what was going on but didn’t care enough to act.

“Why would you do this?” the woman asked.

“This isn’t where I wanted to be.” Beth creaked.

Anode 5:

There was nobody there when Beth was escorted to the detention center. He barely recognized the sleek bun of the woman that pinned him and the woman who drove him many places. He didn’t care that he was leaving the bright world outside or that they took his stained shirt.

Firm hands grabbed him and led him to a small room that reminded him of the motel. The realization of where he was began to consume him. As he looked up a rusted cell door closed for the first time.

“This is where I end.”

9.

Welcome to Madrid Amigo

It was late, the hour hand on the clock had rapidly approached 2AM, but the night was still young in the energetic city of Madrid, Spain. Dealing with jetlag, Jack sat on the corner of his bed lacing up his boots in his hotel room, until a sudden knock on his door instinctively caused him to pause what he was doing. “What in the world? Who could it be?” Jack questioned himself. Another knock followed by another knock, followed by an unpleasant voice yelling out, “ROOM SERVICE.” Without second guessing himself, Jack headed to the door and slowly opened it. But before he completely opened it, he was pepper sprayed causing him to partially go blind.

After an extended 5 minutes, Jack’s vision finally cleared up, yet he was unaware of where he was. “How are you holding up?” asked Raul, the guy who had pepper sprayed him and who was now holding a gun. “I can see but my eyes still sting. And who the hell are you?” replied Jack angrily. “I am glad you can see now, you will need your vision later and to answer your question, it doesn’t matter who I am.” Answered Raul.

Raul was an ex secret agent for Spain in his young 40s and with a mindset to get revenge. You see Raul was a top-secret agent in the country until he got framed by his wife’s father, Fernando. It all started in the long-time rivalry between Raul’s father, Sergio, a secret agent as well and Fernando. Both Sergio and Fernando being on top of the game knew there could only be a single top-secret agent. They both came to an agreement to compete for the #1 spot, winner stays, and loser retires. The challenge was to see who could dethrone the most criminals within a month. Long story short, Sergio came out victorious causing Fernando to retire. His retirement brought him so much anger towards Sergio and his whole family. Unfortunately, Raul ended up marrying his daughter, which to me is probably one of the worse things that could have happened to anyone.

Following his father’s footsteps, Raul ended up becoming the #1 secret agent for Spain jamming Fernando with supplementary rage. Fernando decided that it was all he could bare, so he ended up murdering Sergio and framed Raul for it. Sounds absurd, doesn’t it? But then again, it all makes sense considering Fernando himself was an ex top-secret agent.

Now I can continue the story considering you all know who Raul is, yet Jack is still clueless. “Jack, you are here to perform a mission for me and you must accomplish it if you plan on returning to the United States.” Commanded Raul. With an oblivious look, Jack replied, “Okay, dude this is getting weird. How do you know my name? I literally just arrived in Madrid a few hours ago.” Being a tourist to the country of Spain, Raul knew Jack would be the perfect target to help him avenge his father’s death. Yes, Raul was planning on assassinating Fernando but in a way to where he would be innocent. What other way could you plan a murder and get away with it? By not doing the actual killing but make somebody else do the dirty job for you.

Handing a 4X4 photo of Fernando to Jack, Raul informs him, “This is the man I need you to get rid of, murder him and you will be able to return to the US whenever you please.”

“Murder? No, this is insane, I have never done this in my life.” Replied Jack.

“Yes, murder him. And do not get caught, I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you.” Stated Raul while handing him a sniper rifle to his other hand.

“Now why in the hell do you think I would do this for you?” Asked Jack.

“Lift up your shirt.” Replied Raul instantly.

Lifting his shirt up nonchalantly, Jack spotted a bomb wrapped up around his torso.

“If you try to take it off, sweat an abundant amount, or move too fast it will go off.” Informed Raul luminously showing off the detonator. Bringing an end to his questioning, Jack commenced his mission and started to search for Fernando.

Looking all around the city, Jack had no luck and his nerves were getting the best of him. His best friend was the handkerchief he used to wipe the sweat off his face. Luckily for him, it had only taken him 5 hours to finally recognize Fernando considering how populated Madrid is. Ironically, Fernando was spotted at a café having breakfast with Angelina and Raul. Jack could not believe what his eyes were displaying to him, the boss was having breakfast with the target. His mind was overloading with thoughts. Why would Raul have me assassinate Fernando if he seems like he has easy access to him? Who is the lady with them?

However, the only thought that stayed in Jack’s head was the fact that the bomb was going to explode soon if he doesn’t murder Fernando. With a bomb and sniper rifle bag, Jack started cautiously walking to the roof of a building to approach to his shooting point. With his sweaty hands from so much anxiety, Jack finally begins to put the rifle together.

Set up and loaded with his finger on the trigger, Jack takes a deep gulp and “BANG”. Jack get’s up instantly to see that somebody else had shot Fernando seconds before he could. Freaking out, Jack immediately flees the rooftop and heads back to the hotel to wait for Raul.

After two long hours, Raul finally knocks on Jack’s door.

“Do you have any pepper spray with you? Asked Jack before answering the door.

“No, it is all clear. I am only here to congratulate you and free you.” Replied Raul.

“That was one heck of a shot Jack, not bad for an amateur.” Complimented Raul.

“I did not kill Fernando. Right before I pulled the trigger, somebody else had done my job.” Answered Jack quickly.

With disbelief, Raul yanked the bomb wrapped around Jack’s torso and threw it in the trash.

“Are you serious? It was a fake bomb the whole time.” Angrily yelled Jack at Raul.

Right before Jack could connect a punch on Raul’s jaw, “Shhhhhhhh” Raul had pulled out the pepper spray and got Jack again.

“NOT AGAIN!” Shouted Jack in extreme pain.

“Sorry, amigo. I hope you enjoyed your time in Madrid, visit again soon.” Exclaimed Raul laughing his way out.

10.

The Death of Mark Read

Mary bolted upright in bed. Disoriented, in that moment between dreaming and waking, her surroundings slowly began to take form. It was quiet. She was alone. Alone and in a bed for the first time in months. She let out a sigh, exasperated that her dreams were always the same. A surreal mix of battle memories ending in victory, or in the nightmare of being discovered. Death never came for her in her dreams. She was beginning to think it wasn't in any hurry to come for her in life. Slowly, she rose from her bed in the small room at the tavern Inn and stretched, feeling the strain on her bruises. She opened the window and beheld a low evening sun glinting over the calm turquoise waters of Nassau harbor. She drew in a deep breath of the warm salty air. She never planned on coming to Nassau. But then, no ship she had ever crewed for had arrived at it's intended destination.

Wondering what employment she might find in the Caribbean port town, Mary slipped off her nightshirt and picked up a long strip of fabric that she had washed and laid out to dry the night before. She began wrapping it around her chest, binding her breasts, just as she had every day since she was fourteen. She put on men's trousers, shirt and jacket, just as she had every day since she was seven. Reaching for her hat she noticed a mirror on the far wall. She hadn't noticed it coming in the night before. It had been years since Mary had looked in a mirror. They weren't a necessary item in her line of work.

Faced with the option, she wasn't interested in her reflection, fearing all she would see staring back was her brother’s ghost. Her mother had dressed her in her dead brothers’ clothes before he was cold. In that moment of grief, she had to become her brother Mark. Her father was dead. Without a male heir the family would have no support. Mary Read never officially existed. Mark Read on the other hand, had been swinging a sword on land and sea under any banner that would pay since he was seventeen years old. She stared at the mirror from across the room. It taunted her. Though she had no desire to see Mark again, she still could not help but speak to him, just as she had every day since the day he died. His memory was her closest friend. The only consistency in her life.

“Well Mark”, she said to the air, “Today we are pirates in the port of Nassau.” Donning her hat, she rushed past the mirror on her way out.

Descending the stairs to the tavern pub, Mary stopped abruptly half way down. The room was in chaos. Three men with a bleeding mate were being roughly escorted out. At the center of the commotion was a woman. A little woman, with wild red hair, in a faded dress once befitting a lady.

“If anyone else has anything to say to me about James Bonny!” she barked, “They can say it to my knife!” She thrust the bloody knife into the air above her head. The room fell silent as her eyes darted across the crowd and landed on Mary waiting to finish her descent down the stairs. Mary froze as the red haired woman's fiery eyes locked onto hers. Mary marveled at the petite manifestation of rage and self-determination starring back at her.

In an abrupt spin, the woman turned back towards the bar, releasing Mary, and resumed chatter with her companion.

“For god's sake Anne, if you stab every man that speaks well of James there won't be a sailor left in Nassau.” Said the man.

“You don't speak his name to me Jack.” Anne replied coldly.

“Anne…” Jack sighed.

“Jack.” Anne retorted sharply with a face as unflinching as polished stone. “Besides, we're leaving tonight. I won't have to.”

“Yes, dearest.” Jack sighed with a chuckle. “That's why we're leaving tonight.” He picked up his glass and tossed back the rum in one swig before slamming it down on the bar. “God help us we need more crew.” He said, before staring down at Anne with the weary expression of man in the center of a catastrophe. Only to be overridden by a beaming admiration he was never capable of hiding.

Mary observed the odd couple from a back corner table perplexed. When suddenly, the woman turned and marched straight to Mary's table. “I haven't seen you before.” Accused the woman, whom upon closer look, might have been all of seventeen.

“I arrived on the Swallow just yesterday.” Mary replied.

“The Privateer mutiny!” The girl exclaimed excitedly and plopped down in the chair across the small table. “And you are?” she demanded.

“Mark Read ma’am.”

“Anne Bonny.” The girl stated holding out her hand for a shake before continuing, “So Mark, do tell.”

“The mutiny?” Mary questioned wondering why this girl had taken an interest. Wondering why this girl was here at all. Anne nodded. Mary drew in a deep breath and answered flatly. “There was discontent among the ranks, and I chose the winning side.”

Anne's face contorted in disgust at the at the moral ambiguity before she finally spouted, “They think they can dictate what you can do in this life Mark. You made your own destiny. You did the right thing.” The resoluteness in her tone was almost threatening. Mary paused, she had never thought of herself as doing right. Or doing wrong even. She didn't write the rules of man or nature, she simply dealt with the world its own terms, whatever they happened to be. And she was good at it. Mary began to feel uneasy as Anne’s expression settled into an unflinching, scrutinizing stare.

The duality of Mary's life meant she avoided such stares. Avoided intimacies of any kind. Something inside Mary felt seen under the scrutiny of this strange, fearless girl. Mary felt a momentary sense of elation followed by a growing sense of panic. “Why is she studying me so intently? Can she through my disguise? Is she going to stab me too?” Mary’s thoughts began to spiral before Anne abruptly broke the silence.

“Well Mark, did you join the Privateers to rid the world of pirates for King and country or…”

“I was pardoned for piracy on the contingency that I privateer.” Mary interrupted.

Anne's face softened.

“Well,” she sighed with relief. “You're in like company here Mark. Every man in this tavern has gained and lost a pardon for piracy. Captain Jack over there lost his pardon this week. He is also no stranger to mutiny.” Anne clinked her glass against Mary's, knocking it off balance. Reaching out to catch it as it sloshed Mary questioned “Captain Jack?”

“Rackham.” Anne finished.

“Jack Rackham that lead a mutiny against Charles Vane?” Mary questioned utterly surprised.

“Lead a successful mutiny against Charles Vane.” Anne corrected beaming with pride. “Successful.” she repeated deeply pleased with her companions’ notoriety.

Mary stared at the tall figure at the bar in his colorful frills and finery.

“We are looking for crew for our next expedition Mark. We could use a man with your experience.”

“We?” Mary questioned returning her attention to Anne.

“Jack and I, yes.”

“You're? ...So you'll be..?” Mary began to stammer.

“On MY ship.” Anne said. Her face turned back to stone. Her body went rigid in rehearsed preparation for violent dispute.

“She’s a pirate!?” Mary pondered, having never heard anything so extraordinary. It was, in fact, illegal and punishable by death to bring a woman, or be a woman on board any ship. She'd honestly met very few women in her life at all, given her profession. Mary's fascination with the companion of Calico Jack spiked. Somehow, manifesting before her, was a woman, defying all of the civilized world, in open rebellion to it's laws and customs, doing everything it told her she could not. Mary nodded her head in agreement before she realized she was doing it. “Yes. I’ll join you’re.. eh.. Captain Jack’s crew.” Mary said trying to hide a smile.

“Yes?” echoed Anne happily. Leaning over the table she put her hand on Mary’s sleeve. “I believe you are I are going to be very good friends Mark.” The word friend resounded in Mary’s ears as Anne’s gaze once again became uncomfortably attentive. Friendship had always been liability in Mary’s position. She smiled uncomfortably at Anne, uncertain of what she was getting herself into.

“Jack!” Anne yelled across the tavern. “Come here and meet our newest crew member.” Jack perked up at the news and sauntered over half drunk and took a seat. “A round for my new friend here.” Jack yelled at the bar keep. “Thank you, Captain.” Mary said, taking in the unexpectedly dashing figure of the man that had deposed the Dread Pirate Charles Vane. “Mark came in on the Swallow.” Anne reported. “Well cheers to that.” Jack said raising his beer.

Mary couldn't help but stare at the colorful prints on the cascades of ruffles coming out of Jack's collar and cuffs. “It's the finest Indian silk worn by Mahārājas and Kings.” Jack said holding out his arm and dangling the Calico silk in front of Mary. “Men of our birth are denied such luxuries Mark. Why would we become pirates if not to live like kings?” Mary nodded in amusement at his logic and touched the colorful dangling silk. It was soft, weightless almost, with the finest most intricate patterns Mary had ever seen dyed on fabric. “Marvelous” Mary replied. “Yes it is.” said Jack. “Yes, it is.”

The three carried on into the late evening. Mary was beginning to feel quite comfortable in the company of her new shipmates when Jack announced he must make preparations for tonight’s departure. “Tonight?” Mary inquired, surprised. Jack shot an exasperated look towards Anne who shrugged. “My apologies Mark, did we not mention? We set sail tonight. If you can still join us, meet us at sloop William on the East dock at 3AM.”

 “William? Isn't that Captain Ham's ship?” Mary questioned.

“Not as of 3AM dear boy. Not as of 3AM.” Jack said standing to leave. “I think I'll name her Jolly Roger.” 

 “Right. 3 am Captain.” Mary confirmed.

Anne reached out for a firm handshake, then pulled Mark in close, “If you are not what you say, and you thwart this heist; you will meet the end of my knife. If you are what you say, my darling kindred spirit, we will make this world our own.”

Mary smiled to herself. A flood of respect welled within her the defiant spirit of her new shipmate that was hellbent on conforming the world to herself. Anne released Mary, who watched as the two left.

Mary went back upstairs to her room and sat on the bed, “Well Mark, tonight we steal a ship.” She said to no one.

Abruptly she stood, lit the oil lamp, and marched straight over to the mirror. Sandy, short, rough hair framed a sun weathered face. A life of hard labor placed broad shoulders atop a stature as tall as many men. “There is no possibility she saw a woman.” Mary thought touching her face, reassuring herself that Anne had not seen through her. Looking at her reflection, she did not see the ghost of a memory 20 years faded. She saw the scar she received fighting the French in the Nine Years’ War and traced it with her finger. Pondering her unfamiliar features, she saw who Anne saw: A person who made their own fate and claimed the rights denied them at birth.

“Well Mary,” she said to her reflection.

“Tonight, you're stealing a ship.”