Authors Note: I wrote this because I was inspired by a post on r/depression by the user u/terencepen1 . I know that I am still a novice writer and I need to improve on a lot of aspects of my fiction writing. I am posting this story in this sub because it seems like an appropriate place to share this. “If you and Matt are busy, we can always grab lunch another time.” The letters spun underneath the tips of my fingers and entered the chat, but I didn’t feel or register the action. I honestly don’t feel much of anything anymore. “No, Matt and I are in line to get food.” Grayson messaged. “Cool! I’m sitting somewhere near the entrance.” You know, I said that it was cool, but some part of me really didn’t want to eat with them. I twirled the carrots on my plate, pretending to be absorbed in the intricacies of undercooked college dining hall food, just so I could act aloof, so I could let Matt and Grayson know that I didn’t need them. I had my brittle root vegetables. They made their way over to where I was sitting. We mostly ate in silence, my two friends chittering away with one another, unaware of the malignant pleasures bewitching my brain. I could feel my face contort in such a ghastly manner, the only way it can when you are about to sob. “Are you okay?” Matt asked, his eyebrows did the thing where they turn up and scrunch together. The "genuine concern eyebrows." “You know, just casually suicidal.” I laughed, a meek cry for help. He halfheartedly grinned in response, and then jumped back into his previous conversation with Grayson. Their lack of acknowledgement or concern and ability to go along with my fervent lies bothered me to no end, and I got up to leave not soon after. I couldn’t just sit here without letting the waterworks spill over. Back in my dorm, I turned on the shower, my hands feeling heavy and not entirely my own. I stepped out of the bathroom to let the water warm up a bit. The preemptive sting of tears hit the bridge of my nose once again. Without even thinking I took the few steps to my bed and ripped the comforter off, throwing my clothes around the room, hoping for even the slightest trace of anything other than the sinking weight of living that made its home in my ribcage. Hoping that ruining my always tidy asylum would ignite a feeling of regret or just ground me into reality. Standing in the middle of the room I looked at the mess that I had designed. A sweater touched some my roommates side and I shoved it back to my side with my foot. My eyes glanced instinctively down to my phone. A notification from Matt lit up the screen. "Hey, sorry that your having a bad day, if you ever want to talk we’re here. We love you.” It was a sweet notion, but the only thing that crossed my mind was that he spelled “you’re” wrong. And because of that, I just wouldn't reply. He could have said something when I admitted my casual distress fifteen minutes prior, i wish he would have said something. The shower should be hot by now. Something about having scalding water hit my face made the welled up tears finally fall from my eyes. I am so worthless. This education is so expensive, and if my human capital is worthless, then I am just a waste of space and money. I lathered some shampoo into my hair, it smelled like candied roses. What is the point of living if things won’t get better? I am so fucking sick, so sad and so chemically messed up. I will always be empty and sad. I should just kill myself. Who would it hurt? Maybe my dad. I love my dad, but he isn’t the reason why I wouldn't go through with my own euthanasia. I rinsed out the shampoo and put in conditioner. The friends that I have made don’t know me well enough to truly be sad if I died. My roommate would be a little sad, but she’d get over it. It’s only been five months that I have known these new friends, five months isn’t enough time to be sad if someone you know meets their own mortality. Some rational part of my brain keeps arguing that I have already spent a lot of money on school, and that if I were to kill myself now, then I would be wasting that money, I should finish what I started. I put some shower gel onto a loofah and started to scrub my skin. I have superficial reasons to take care of this stupid body even if I want to discard it. I know that showering can make these sick feelings go away. Feverish water rinsed away the suds from my shoulders and arms, running down the drain with the filth of my existence. I could never go through with it though. Every option would hurt too much. Jumping from the roof would make a huge mess for everyone, and who even knows if it would work? What if I just ended up paralyzed? The same can be said for an overdose. The only pills I have access too might not even kill me. How much ibuprofen do you have to take to do any damage? As for bleeding out... that has the potential to be nice, I often like to romanticize the act of slitting my wrists and dying, how everything would burn yet feel cold and how I would fade into oblivion. But that isn’t realistic, and I don’t really think that I’d be capable of cutting deep enough into my arm to do any real damage, and my fantasia of the act is just that, a fantasy. Plus my roommate would have to deal with the mess and that’s just rude, I refuse to be a rude human being. I know that for some arbitrary reason I have to keep on living, but wouldn’t things just be so much easier I could enter the void? If I could end all of this trivial torment? I just don’t want to be alone. The bombardment of tears has passed, I can feel the burn that lingers every time that I blink. I got out of the shower and lazily dried myself off. Slipping on some gross dirty clothes I decided to take a walk. Maybe I could find a bridge to jump off of. The bite of frosty winter air hit me as I stepped outside. It’s a Tuesday and people are walking around going places, living. I round the corner of my building and spot the frozen yogurt shop that my friends and I go to on Wednesdays. I don’t know what convinced me to enter the shop, I didn’t really have the money to treat myself to this. I walked in and grabbed the smallest cup, filling it with plain vanilla, no toppings, just vanilla yogurt. The cashier rang me up, saying “that’ll be four dollars,” his voice chimed with a weird genuine vibrato that is hard to find in any food service or retail job. It’s contagious really, I smiled back at him and went to sit down. I still can’t feel my hands, it’s as if a phantom possess my body and I have to take the backseat while they control me. I look down at the plain and boring treat in my lap and a single tear rolls down my cheek. I just have to take each day one at a time. I know that today won’t be the day that I die, maybe I can sleep off this heavy dread.


Logan was a man who had lost his way. He was a successful businessman, rising to a high position in a Fortune 500 company, but his success had come at a high cost. He had become self-destructive, drinking heavily and engaging in dangerous and reckless behavior. He had lost touch with the things that once mattered to him; he was self-destructing. Everything changed when Logan's grandmother, Ellen, died. She had always been the rock of his life, and her passing left a huge hole in his heart. At her funeral, Logan learned that she had left him a piece of land in the remote mountains of East Tennessee. He had visited this land with his grandmother as a child and had many fond memories of it. Logan decided to take a break from his life and visit the land that his grandmother had left him. He packed a bag, took leave from his job, and set off on the long drive to East Tennessee. As he drove, he couldn't help but think about his grandmother and the memories they had made together. He knew this trip would be a chance to reconnect with the things that once mattered to him. When Logan arrived at the land, he was struck by its beauty. The rolling hills and lush forests were exactly as he remembered them as a child. He decided to explore the land, and as he walked, he came across an old, dilapidated cabin in the woods. This was the same cabin that he had visited many times with his grandmother and had many fond memories of. Logan did not know it yet, but this was the place where he would begin to heal. He decided to spend some time at the cabin, to fix it up and make it his own. He spent his days working on the place, fixing the roof, the windows, and the door. He cleaned out the inside and made it a cozy and comfortable home. He even started to plant a small vegetable garden out front. As Logan worked on the cabin, mending its wounds, his own wounds, one-by-one, began mending too. He realized that he had been on the wrong path in life and needed to change. He stopped drinking and started taking better care of himself. Since the cabin was small and rustic, it was the perfect place for Logan to escape from the world. He spent his days hiking in the woods and fishing in the nearby lake. He spent his nights reading Shakespeare and staring up at the stars, taking extra special joy in observing the constellation Orion make its way across the night sky. And, slowly but surely, Logan began to heal. As the days passed, Logan began to feel a sense of peace. He began to see the beauty in the simple things around him. He would watch the sun rise over the lake and feel grateful for another day. He would listen to the birds singing in the trees and feel a sense of wonder. He would look up at the stars at night and feel a sense of connection to something greater than himself. Logan also started to learn new skills, like how to make his own furniture, fix appliances, and cook. He realized that he found happiness in small things like the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the morning, the sound of wood crackling in the fireplace, and the sight of the sun setting behind the mountains. He realized that he had never felt this way before, and the simplicity of the cabin's life was the key to his healing. As the weeks turned into months, Logan's physical and emotional health improved. He started to feel strong again, and his wounds began to heal. He started to feel like himself again, like the person he was before he lost his way. Logan rediscovered himself. He realized that he had been living a life that didn't align with his values and needed to change. He began to think about what truly mattered to him and what kind of person he wanted to be. One day, as Logan was sitting on the cabin's porch, he realized it was time for him to leave. He knew that he had found what he had been looking for and that it was time to take on the world with a renewed attitude. He packed his bags and said goodbye to the cabin, knowing it would always hold a special place in his heart. Logan left the cabin with a newfound sense of purpose. He had changed and was ready to take on the world with a positive attitude. He returned to his old life with a renewed sense of purpose and a new perspective. One of the first things Logan did was quit his job and start a new business. He wanted to do something that would honor his grandmother's memory and make a difference in the world. He started a company that focused on sustainable living and preserving the environment, something his grandmother had always been passionate about. He knew that this was his true calling and that this was what he wanted to do with his life. Logan's business was a huge success, and it brought him immense satisfaction. He was not just making a living, he was making a difference. He could use his talents and skills to help others, and he knew that this was what his grandmother would have wanted. He knew that he had found his true purpose and was living his life with purpose and meaning. As Logan's business grew, he was able to give back to the community in a big way. He started a charitable foundation focused on helping the less fortunate and protecting the environment. He knew that this was what his grandmother would have wanted, and he felt that he was living his life with purpose and meaning. Logan's time at the cabin in the woods profoundly changed him. He had taken the time to heal, refocus on himself, and uncover his true purpose. He had rediscovered himself and had found a new perspective on life. He knew that his grandmother's passing had been a turning point in his life. He was grateful to her, and he was thankful to the cabin for giving him the space to heal his wounded heart, soul, mind, and body. This story's moral is that sometimes in life, we lose our way and need to take the time to heal and find ourselves again. We need to focus on ourselves, and we need to find our true purpose. It is important to take the time to heal, take time to focus on ourselves, and truly find our proper purpose in life. Sometimes, the things we lose in life can lead us to something greater. Like Logan, we should be bold and take time for ourselves, to focus on healing our wounds and find our true purpose in this life. In doing so, we can honor those who have passed and leave behind a legacy that both they and we would be proud of.


Sometimes lunch falls from the sky. I suppose that may seem like some blessing, but I’ve had about enough of it, myself. Have you any idea what that kind of impact does to a half-eaten meat pie? I once heard a wet explosion and stepped out of my neat grass hut to find my fire pit covered in gravy. Nor does lunch tend to land in the most opportune of places. Yesterday about midday I had a banana. Nearly killed me. The Goony Birds drop all manner of objects as they fly across the valley sky, always from Mount of the Moon to Purple Panther Peak. Papers, coins, clothing, shoes, dark eyeglass , beverage containers, writing implements. I have a dune of mostly obliterated or useless Goony Bird crap that grows by the day. Worst of all, they sometimes drop lunch after it’s already been eaten. Solid chunks land several seconds before the fine spray. It’s only been this way for a handful of seasons. I can easily recall when my sky was clear of Goonies and the shrieking zip of their flight. Then, life was considerably more normal. My days were occupied with foraging, sometimes hunting for meats or skins, and regular visits from Teela. On occasion, strangers would wander in from distant valleys. We were always happy to welcome them. Teela was my closest neighbor, living just past the arse-shaped rock downstream. Her flesh was sparse, and her head of hair was ample. Sad story, Teela’s. I can’t help but recall the pleasant times, though. She would drop in at least once every few days with something new to show me.Spiny fruits, dead insects, smelly things. She had a strange obsession with useless objects. I would call her an odd one, but I’m afraid I haven’t known a sufficient number of normal people to justify saying so. We shared meals often (I made the food my responsibility; one could never be sure what Teela would bring to share), and more than a few times we explored one another, sharing in the vagaries of physical pleasure. Having her around was always good fun. At least, that is, until the freak show appeared above our heads. Teela fell under the spell of the Goonies. “Such lovely big birds,” she said to me the day after they first whizzed through our pristine sky. “They’re no proper birds,” I told her. “Do you see wings?” “They don’t need wings; they have otherworldly powers. Dummy!” When the so-called birds started dropping their crap, Teela lost her coconuts. “Look at this!” She picked something up from the dirt outside my hut. It was a small piece of canvas emblazoned with the perfect image of a person, but this person was like none I had met. Pale as a cloud and still sporting baby fat as a grown man. Goony-looking. Unfortunately, this only helped Teela to deify the Goonies. I tried to tell her they were just people. “Dope! They only take the form of humans so as not to frighten us, the simpler beings. And how do you suppose they fly, smart guy? Our minds are not capable of fully comprehending.” Teela began spending every day at my hut. My place was a hotspot for Goony junk landings (Teela took to calling it the ‘Place of Great Heavenly Bounty’). I didn’t mind that she took all the junk-I certainly didn’t need it-but watching her lose her mind was too much. I once snuck off to her place while she was trying to find a suitable way to dress her wild mane around a set of gleaming cooking tools that had crashed into the stream near my hut. When I crossed the arse rock, I could scarcely believe the state of her living space: the slipshod grass shelter was consumed by an intricate altar of stacked Goony garbage. It was no wonder she bummed around my place; hers had become storage! I was lucky enough to have a morning to myself when a most intriguing specimen touched down. As I lounged on a bed of moss, sipping spiny fruit nectar, a bush across the stream burst into a flurry of leaves. Normally I would have let the thing lie and notified Teela, but my interest was piqued as I discerned a small racket coming from what remained of the foliage. What I found was a small, heavy picture-box device. It was like several I had seen before, but unlike the others, this one was in working order. Well perhaps it wasn’t undamaged from the fall, but it repeatedly displayed the same moving image: it was one of those Goony white people smiling, laughing with his giant teeth and sticking his thumb in the air. He was on a mountain peak, approaching a precipice. When I looked close, I could see that he was wearing an apparatus that protruded from his midsection and connected him to something that reached far into the open sky. It was a line. As the Goony in the picture-box launched himself over the precipice and wailed like a young girl, the situation suddenly became clear. I tore my rapt eyes from the box, studied the sky with greater scrutiny than I had hitherto thought to give, and soon found what I was looking for: a barely perceptible line bridged the sky between the peaks on either side of the valley. Teela was not receptive to my discovery. “Blasphemy! Omnipotent beings do not dangle from vines.” “But it’s right there above your daft head! Just look up!” “I don’t need to; I’m strong enough to have faith in the inexplicable.” “We’re human beings, Teela. Rational thought is our most powerful tool, and you’re ignoring it altogether. All you have is faith in ignorance.” “Don’t talk down to me. I won’t hesitate to defend my values.” That’s when I showed her the moving image in the picture-box. She couldn’t draw her eyes away until it repeated four times over. Then she met my gaze with a leer that would cleave stone. “Tempter! Demon sent to corrupt!” Teela was in the throes of hysteria. She wore the mean look of a cornered badger. “Death be upon you!” My friend must have known she could not slay me, and too that she had violated the boundaries of our friendship. Sadly, I’d no time to pose a question before she came at me with a shiny blade pulled from her Goony headdress, and she’d no time to redact herself before I smashed her head with a rock.There was a thud as she dropped and the slight clink of a bloodied spoon tumbling from her head, but then there was only silence. Teela was my dear friend, daresay my only friend, and I had killed her. I reexamined the fact repeatedly before I could bring myself to believe it. I had bludgeoned my friend to death, but only as a reflexive reaction to a life-or-death situation brought upon by her irrational hysteria. Did I have a choice? And did she understand the implications of her delusions? Was this mess our fault? No. It was those great Goony bastards playing cheap tricks with twine above our heads. After all, they had no divine enchantment, nor even the power of flight. They were only men, and men could fall. That night, I put in no small effort devising an operation to take back the valley sky. As the moon rose over its mount, I felled no less than a dozen trees, each of considerable height, and carried them past the arse to Teela’s. I then used the heftiest limb I could salvage to reduce her Goony shrine to what I had always seen it for: a mound of garbage. Consider it grieving. Next, I proceeded to construct a pyre, reinforced with all the pieces from the hulking mound of Goony garbage, of such magnitude that according to my calculations, her flames just might lick the strand in the sky. Consider it retribution. As the first rumor of dawn found the horizon, I spent the last of my strength carrying the corpse of my friend to the pyre’s pinnacle. When I returned to the ground, I set the first spark of what promised to be an unforgettable conflagration and proceeded to collapse on my back, eyes turned to the slowly waning stars. I cared little that had my structure failed, flaming tree trunks and landfill would have rained down upon me and brought my end. Life thereafter was optional, so long as the Goonies were stopped. The heat of the growing blaze soon crept into my skin, and before long, I could perceive the line in the sky giving off a faint glow. Yes, I thought, my final act shall come to fruition. I may at least die with integrity. With my head laid back on the hot ground, I closed my eyes and let the roar of the inferno fill my senses. It was then that I became aware of something else: a second roar, carried by the wind from a near valley. I sat up and watched as a massive object blotted out the first rays of the breaking dawn. It was a fat, Goony flying machine, and it wasted no time. From its great metal belly dropped a deluge, which soaked the entire valley floor with a single, thundering crash. I was cold-cocked and washed halfway to the stream bed while the bonfire collapsed into a half-ashen dune of wet garbage. When I coughed back into consciousness, I was surrounded by flopping river fish. The first thing I thought to do was examine the morning sky. Indeed, the Goony line hung intact above me. My struggle had been in vain. Logic advised me to laugh, make light of the situation, accept that what had happened was beyond my control. But no smile would come. All the humor of a cruel reality was wasted that day on a single, melancholy man. The only thing left for me to do was rebuild my home and carry on. I have never thought at length about what should be done with the remains of the pyre. Perhaps I have secretly hoped the forest would someday overtake it and reclaim it for the Earth. Yet the dune stands to this day, a memorial to my foolishness. I had hoped it would scare away the Goonies, or at least be enough of an eyesore to diminish their numbers, but no. It didn’t work out as such. I guess some problems cannot be solved. Dave, The Xtreme Jungle Zip-n-Camp Adventure shift manager, stood on the mountaintop platform, green in the face. He’d managed a ski school before he moved out here. This was well outside the realm of his professional experience “Are you sure it was a real-” “Yup,” said the greasy part-timer. “Trus’ me, you’ll see it.” “Well... I suppose I’ll have to phone the director, then.” The part-timer nodded and backed away. He wanted nothing to do with that conversation. The shift manager unsheathed his cumbersome weatherproof satellite phone and pressed 1. He always felt weird using a phone with actual buttons. “Good morning, director.” “...” “Yes sir, I’m aware that it’s four a.m. in your time zone. I apologize. “...” “Well, I’m out here trying to open line eleven, and I’m looking at... there’s no other way to put this: it’s the charred remains of some sort of aboriginal human sacrifice, and it’s directly below the line.” “...” “Yes Sir, a genuine dead body.” “...” “I see.” “...” “And a good day to you, Sir.” The shift manager ended the connection and took a deep breath. “Whadda he say?” The part timer had been standing not far off. “He’s thrilled! Said we should charge an extra ten per guest for line eleven and get in touch with marketing to organize a special promotion. We’ll also have to draft an amendment to the waiver.” “He said that?” “Not that last bit, but I’m thinking ahead. If we play things right, we might get a raise out of this.


"Is there any meaning to this?" she asks, turning over the last page of my book. "Well that depends." I respond, pouring myself another drink, "Do you think it's good enough to have any meaning?" I set my drink down at the table, it's my fifth tonight, she's still half way through her second glass, I sit down and take a sip. "I think giving it meaning is what makes it good." she puts the book down, I saw her glance at my drink, I wonder if she's concerned. "Are you saying it would be good if it had meaning, or do you think that the meaning that it has is what makes it good?" I pull the book towards me, it's not large but the older leather cover gives it some weight, the lamp on the corner of the table highlights all the wrinkles and creases inside the cover and I'm reminded just how long I've had this book, how long it took me to write anything. She takes a small sip from her glass and lights another cigarette, that's her fifth tonight, I quit almost a year ago but I don't mind, the smell of years of cigarette smoke has already stained the walls of my apartment. "I'm saying that when something has meaning put into, it doesn’t really matter how good it is objectively, it means that whatever it is has care, time and some soul put into it" She takes a draw and blows the smoke out the window, the cold air outside carries the smoke high and away, floating with snow. "But does that mean that it does have meaning?" I pick up the book trying to remember everything I wrote as I adjust in my chair, it creaks in pain, it's old and unstable, ready to give put at any moment. I think I cared about what I wrote, and it definitely took some time, does that mean that part of my soul is in there? "Yeah, I guess it does." I put the book back down and take another sip, a snow flake flies I through the window and lands in my drink, I think about whether or not if flew through her smoke before coming here, and is now melting into my drink. I glance up at her and she's staring at my drinking, smiling at the snowflake that just landed in it. "So what's the meaning then?" She takes another draw and ashes out the window, it flies away with her smoke. "I don’t know really know." I take another sip, it's getting difficult to have straight thoughts but I think that's when they become more honest. "Time maybe, inevitability, putting off the inevitable, hiding from it, wasting so much time hiding from the inevitable that you forget that it's inevitable and that you should have been preparing for it instead" I look up from my glass and she's smiling at me now. "There you go, there's that scary existentialism I knew was in there.


I had just walked across the length of the room and sat down in those annoyingly squeak prone chairs, yet they had a sort of comforting reliability to them. They were those kind of chairs that you could lean all the way back in, it brings you back to when you were a child and you would lean all the way back and hold your head upside down, like some sort of persistent dog trying to accomplish a trick for a treat. However, amidst all the commotion in the room, I must have glanced upward. Perhaps there was a light attracting my attention, or maybe somehow my unconscious knew, and it was trying to force me to notice. Once I saw her though I didn't know what to think, I didn't know what to feel. Her eyes shined like two ancestral jewels, brighter than anything I have ever seen. They lit up her face, her smile, every feature of her was illuminated, and it was in that moment that time seemed to slow down. All the noise around me, all the noise of life and the conversations of others slowly dimmed, it was as if I was caught in a moment of silent serenity as I looked at her and she looked at me. She smiled... I smiled. I wanted to run over and push the person next to her 5 feet away and sit down and introduce myself, but I never had the courage to act like that. What would she have thought? How would she have acted? In those forty seconds my mind worked harder then it had my entire life, I questioned every movement I made, every expression, I quickly grew nervous. Yet she had smiled. She looked me in the eyes and she shared some of that light. Over the next couple months this would happen, I would enter the room and look at her and smile, or she would. I had thought that maybe this smile was just a friendly greeting, a quick moment of expression to greet another person. Yet every single time I would experience that moment. If someone was talking to me, if someone was showing me something, I always knew to look up when she was coming in. It was as if the room got brighter when she stepped through that door... but only I could see it. She changed my world, this was no crush, no fantasy, no dream. She was there, but I simply could not step forward. Maybe I wasn't ready, maybe I was young and now I have grown. Maybe she thinks about those moments, maybe she remembers the smile. If I could go back to that moment, if I could lean back and raise my head to see her... I would smile. But... I would get up and walk into her light.


Deep in space, a lone ship drifts though the shadow of a moon. Alarms blare as the ship shakes from the strain of staying together. Vika flips a switch up and down, her thick gloves catching. She grits her teeth as she tries to pull a wire from the panel. She yanks the gloves off and throws them behind her. Who cares if the cold of space gives her frostbite if she’s dead? The cold seeps into her fingers as she wiggles them through the wires and yanks the one she’s looking for. The lights go out. “Vika!” Korben screeches from the front of the ship. “At least I shut the alarm off!” “We’re going to die and it’ll be your fault!” “Shut up! I’m doing my best.” “This is your best? No wonder we’re in this mess.” She’s going to kill him one of these days. “There’s a space station on scanner. Give us enough power to get there and we might have a chance.” She rolls her eyes and holds two wires, but pauses before crossing them. “What’s the magic word?” she sings. “What?” “What’s the magic word?” “Seriously? Now?” “Yup,” she says, popping the p. “Oxygen at 7%,” the computer says. Vika thought she shut the sound off with the alarms. “Fix it,” Korben groans. “Say it.” “Please,” sarcasm drips from his voice. Vika shrugs. Whatever, it’ll do. Sparks nip at the fingertips as the wires cross. The lights flicker back on then die again. Oops. “Oxygen at 4%.” “Vika!” “Please, we have enough power to get to the station.” “If we don’t suffocate first,” he mutters. “Such confidence in your piloting stills.” Korben mutters something that sounds suspiciously like cussing at her. She rolls her eyes. Vika is thrown back as the ship dips suddenly, tools crashing across the floor from her open tool kit. “Hey! You could have hurt Beep!” “It’s a robot.” “ It’s a he!” “Whatever.” Vika picks up the ball-shaped robot. He blinks his one eye up at her. “That jerk didn’t mean it,” she babies him. The ship dips forward and Beep goes flying from her hands. This is going to be a long five minutes. OOOO The flashlight beams only do so much to cut through the dark halls of the space station. Even the light from Beep’s eye doesn’t help much. Water, at least she hopes it’s water, drips from the ceiling forming puddles on the ground. “Man, how long has this place been here? It smells like something died forever ago,” Korben says. Vika shrugs, pointing her light down a hall as they pass it. “Longer then you’ve been alive.” He huffs in response. Beep rolls across the floor in front of them, his light guiding them better then the flashlights. “At least we have enough oxygen.” “Hey, it’s not my fault you cut the cord to life support,” Korben replies stepping over a puddle. “Well, if you hadn’t banked so hard while I was fixing the weapons.” “We were being shot at!” “How’s that my fault? You were the one who stole that gem.” He opens and closes his mouth a couple times. Vika smirks. “Okay, yeah that one’s on me.” A crash echoes though the halls from somewhere on the station. Beep rolls behind Vika and peaks out from behind her leg. Korben unholsters his blaster. Vika follows suit. “I thought this place was abandoned?” “It’s old and something fell?” “If you believed that you wouldn’t have unholstered your blaster.” “Neither would you.” They walk in sync, blasters ready and flashlights up. Beep bumps against her ankle. Water drips down Korben’s face. He wrinkles his nose as he wipes it off. “That’s not water.” “Nope.” He wipes it on her jacket. They continue on, shoulder-to-shoulder and ready for anything. They come to a door hanging by one hinge, the not water seeping out from under it. “Lady’s first.” “Really? Now you’re being a gentlemen?” He shrugs. “It’s never too late to be one.” Vika rolls her eyes and kicks the door open. It crashes into the wall then to the ground. A serpent rises up, it’s hooded head nearly touching the ceiling. The not water drips from its fangs to the ground. “Saliva, ew,” they say in unison. Korben aims his blaster and fires. The electrical charge hits it in the chest, sparking harmlessly over its purple scales. It roars, lashing it’s tail at them. Vika steps back, while it knocks Korben to the ground. She momentarily drops the point of her gun to put her hands on her hips. “Now look what you’ve done; you’ve gone and made it mad.” He scrambles to his feet and grabs her by the front of her jacket. “Listen here you little-” The snake lunges at them, shaking them from the argument. Vika hardly aims before firing as Korben grabs her arm and drags her back through the door. They topple through, Vika landing on top him. She scrambles off and dashes down the corridor, not waiting for him to get up. She skids around a corner and into a wall, falling to the ground. She grunts and stands back up. A moment later Korben slides around the corner panting. He puts a finger to his lips and presses back against the wall. Vika does the same. The snake slithers by, leaving slime in its path. She makes a gagging motion. Korben narrows his eyes as he mimes choking her. She sticks her tongue out at him before running off to explore their new path. OOOO The control room has about six layers of dust, no snake slime, thankfully, so that’s a good sign. The bad sign is; six layers of dust. “Can you make it work?” Korben asks. “Not if you keep talking.” He flops into the caption’s chair, stirring up a cloud of dust. He sneezes. Vika wipes her hands off, an irritating itch making its way up her nose. She stuffs her hands back into the consoles ancient wiring. How can she fix this? It’s been useless for a century. She yanks the mess out. The counsel lights up. “Such a mature way to fix it.” She chucks the wires at him. They hit him in the face. He squawks and falls over, out of the chair, surprised. Vika examines the screen. “There’s a ship in range of an S.O.S, if you get your sorry butt back in that chair you should be able to send one.” She can feel Korben’s glare burn into her back as he climbs into the chair. “Hello? Is anyone reading me?” “This is the Morra, I read you, do you require assistants?” “Please save me.” Vika snorts. “From what? Your idiocy? Sorry but you can’t be saved from that.” “My partner and I are stranded on the old space station, any way you could give us a lift?” “Consider it done. Adjusting course. Morra out.” The line goes dead. “That,” Korben says leaning back in the chair, “is how you do it.” He props his feet on the control board, kicking half a dozen buttons. Without a sound, the power shuts down. “....Oops.” “Korben, you might want to run.” He falls out of the chair in his scrambling to get out of it and runs off the deck. OOOO “Welcome to the Morra,” the caption greets them. She’s tall with a spiky blue bob and a warm smile. “I’m Captain Flose.” “Vika,” she says sticking her hand out. Flose takes it with a nod. “And this is Korben.” She gestures to a soaking wet Korben. The captain shakes his hand. “Thanks for saving us,” Korben says. Flose tips her hat and leads them to the main deck, giving them a short tour on the way. The Morra isn’t large but she’s bigger than the rust bucket Korben calls his. “Wow, an actual ship,” Vika comments. “I’ve flown that ship for years! She was reliable!” “Key word: was.” “Oh yeah? I want to see you do better.” “It’s not that hard to do anything better then you.” “Take that back,” he growls. “Never.” “Ugh, get a room,” Flose interjects. They barely miss a heartbeat before they say at the same time, “Ew, we’re siblings.”


Huff... huff... huff... I cannot lose her now. I won’t stop. I cannot stop. I cannot get tired now of all times. I saw her after 10 years since middle school. I have so many questions for her. But she looked different from how I remember her. Even if it turns out to be someone else I won’t stop before I know it for sure. A young man is running in a neighbourhood chasing after the glimpse of a girl. She seemed to look like the girl whom he had proposed to in the first year of middle school. They were good friends at that time. He asked her to reply when the cherry tree in their school blossoms. But unfortunately, due to weak health he had to be hospitalized for a month and when he returned things weren’t as he had thought them to be. The girl had transferred schools. She didn’t only leave the school but the city as well. He wasn’t able to get in contact with her ever since then. After catching a glimpse of her in the crowd of Christmas celebration he didn't think twice before chasing her. When he finally found her in a park, which he didn't even know existed before, she stood there. She had a faint smile on her face. She still looked pretty in his eyes though it was night time and there wasn't much light to make out the details of her appearance. She was wearing a traditional kimono, which was sort of unexpected. Her hair were long but appeared unkempt. Her eyes weren’t shining as he remembered as well. They appeared to be quite distressed. After catching up with her, both of them stood there staring at each other for quite some time. She was never the type of person to chatter nonstop and neither was he. Some time passed and she finally started to leave the park and went towards the street. He kept following her and before he knew it, they had reached his apartment building. Both entered the building and he asked if she had shifted into the recently occupied apartment and she ran away ahead of him into the building. He was so happy to see after such a long time. when he returned to his apartment he first went to the balcony and as he had expected she was also in hers looking towards him. They both kept meeting for a few days but it was always him who did the talking. Maybe something happened to her due to which she isn't able to speak, an accident or some kind of trauma. He didn't ask and chose to wait for her to open up. One day his colleagues came to him and asked why he hasn't been going out for a drink after work with them recently and he told them that he has to meet someone whom he came across not too long ago and that she's always waiting for him outside the office. But they told him that they never saw anyone with him because one day they looked down from the office window to see if he had finally found the girl of his life. But they didn’t see anyone, he was alone. He was surprised to know this and when it was time for him to finish he looked down from the office window, and there she was, standing and waiting for him but when he asked his colleagues to look again, they said they don't see anything. In order to not raise any suspicion in their minds about himself that how he has always been overly sensitive to the so-called paranormal beings, he said that he was joking with them and ended the topic with a laugh. Though it didn’t end but start in his mind from this point onwards. When he came down he had a serious look on his face and couldn't keep it in anymore. He asked her who she is? Is she really the girl he thought she was? The faint smile from her face disappeared. She didn't say a word. He was getting more and more annoyed and irritated. He left her behind and went straight to his home. After reaching his home the first thing he did was to draw the curtains. He went to bed and after turning and tossing in his bed a million times he was finally able to sleep. Though he didn't get much sleep last night it was no excuse to miss work. He left his bed and got ready to leave for work. When he came down to the street he saw her standing before him and looking towards him with hopeful eyes. A night’s sleep had helped him to clear his mind and made him able to look at things from a different perspective. He shook his head trying to get his thoughts in order and the first thing he asked her was if she was still alive and thankfully she nodded. He was really relieved to know this but she still looked distressed, so he again asked about her purpose for coming to him. But she didn't say anything, as he had expected. He asked if she can't speak then can she write instead but she shook her head in negative response. He said then if he asks a question can she reply by either nodding in affirmation and shaking in negation, and she agreed to it. After thinking a lot, he asked very selected questions to help him figure out the situation. Lastly, he asked if she wanted to take him to some place and the reply was affirmative. He couldn't ask her where it was since she can't speak but at least he might get to meet the actual person he has been longing to meet all these years. He asked her if she will show him the way where she wanted him to go and she gave a faint smile in affirmation. He went to the office to ask for a week long leave since he didn't know how much long it will take for him to go and come back. Next day, they started on their journey to an unknown destination. They changed a number of trains and buses. Where they reached was a valley he had never been to before. It was a very remote area. There weren't many people around and not many modern equipments were at disposal. When he turned his head towards her to ask about which direction to go from hereon, she was nowhere to be seen. He was suddenly overwhelmed with many different emotions but had to keep all his confusion to himself. He asked around using her surname, which was from her maternal side but no one knew about any family with such name. While he was asking around if anyone else knew something, then he heard people talking about the misfortune of a priest’s family and a shrine maiden who was hospitalized and had no family member left to care for her. When the priest's name came in the conversation he realized that it was her father's name and came to know that she belonged to a priest family. He never knew about what type of family she came from and assumed that her family was just like his. When he asked the people for more information, they first hesitated to disclose information about anyone’s family to a complete stranger but when he assured them that he meant no harm and was looking for a friend, they agreed to tell him about the family. They told him that the priest’s wife left him not long after their marriage for unknown reasons but he never divorced her. At that time they had no child. But he never married again and continued his duties at the shrine. Many years passed and one day, he brought home a teenage girl with him introducing her as his daughter and told everyone that his wife had passed away so his daughter will now live with him in the shrine. Then he began to train his daughter the duties of a shrine maiden and she took up several duties at the shrine including assistance of shrine functions such as the sale of sacred goods (including amulets known as omamori, paper talisman known as ofuda, wood tablets known as ema and among other items), daily tidying of the premises, and performing the sacred kagura dances on certain occasions. She continued her education in a local school and stopped after graduating from high school. But two years ago the priest passed away as well leaving her alone in the big shrine with all its responsibilities. Then few days ago while performing a ritual suddenly an earthquake came and the shrine being very old couldn't survive the disaster and collapsed like many other buildings in the village. A lot of people died and many got severely injured in that disaster. Though they were able to find most of the people but some were still missing. He then remembered watching the news about it. He asked about the hospital in which she was hospitalized and went there as fast as his feet could take him there. He asked about her room number at the hospital’s reception desk but he wasn't given any details since he wasn't a family member and his appearance also made it obvious that he wasn't from this village. But then an elderly person asked to tell him since everyone was looking for their loved ones during such tough time. He thanked that person with a deep bow and went towards the room. When he reached at the door he was reluctant for a minute trying to mentally prepare himself before entering. She was lying on the bed and was connected to ventilator. It was really her. He held her hand which was cold compared to his and before he knew it tears were flowing down his cheeks. But why did they have to meet like this. A nurse came in to check upon her and when he asked her about the chances of her survival she told to be prepared for the worst. As she was about to leave the room she heard some mumbling sounds coming from the patient and at once went to call for the doctor. He was relieved that she had opened her eyes which was supposedly a good sign. She was trying to say something but he couldn't hear properly so he brought his ear near her. She gathered all her strength and said " Thank you ". As soon as she uttered those two words all her strength left her body, her eyes were shut and only a faint smile was left on her face as if she was satisfied to finally have him with her in the final moments of her life. It appeared like she didn't want to leave before seeing him and was asking God to fulfil her last wish. He fell on the floor as if all his strength had been drained from his body and couldn’t stop himself from crying because she had gone silent again and wouldn’t even show any movement. The doctors came and checked her vitals. They looked at all her latest reports and gave the good news that she was now out of danger. There was no need to be anxious anymore. She would regain her consciousness soon and would be healthy again. Everyone in the room was relieved on hearing this miraculous news. But she still had to stay in the hospital for two weeks at least to make a full recovery and get discharged. He called his office immediately and asked for leave extension which he got but with a cut in his salary. But that was a trivial thing to worry about right now. He stayed with her and looked after her. They reminisced about their past, about their plans for the future and he proposed to her that they should get married and live together in the city after being discharged. Since the shrine was completely destroyed by the earthquake and she didn't know what to do next in life she agreed to back in a relationship with him. He asked the doctor if she can travel to city after discharge and he gave permission along with a long list of precautions to be taken while travelling. When he returned to his workplace with a different aura around him his colleagues couldn’t contain their curiosity anymore and when they asked him for the reason he replied while grinning from ear to ear that .... .


Jessie and Mary are identical twins. They look so much alike that ever since they were young, they perfected the ability to impersonate each other, fooling even their mother. However, they left such pranks aside, long ago. They are not children anymore. They are young adults now and their personalities have grown very different. Jessie is in art school, she’s laid-back and likes to think she’s the fun sister, but Mary doesn’t like her sister’s idea of fun. Mary is the “good” twin, at least that’s what their mother says. Jessie thinks her sister is entitled and acts superior, especially since she got in a very prestigious culinary school on a scholarship. However different the sisters may be, they were always close. Mary used to be bullied a lot, but Jessie always had her back. In return, Mary used to help Jessie when she would get in trouble with the teachers or their mother. Nothing can change the fact that they are sisters, but sometimes they wish they could. They rarely speak to each other now, as they live in the dorm rooms of their school. Last year, they only saw each other on Christmas, but that’s about to change. They are going home for their birthday, their mother demanded it. Neither is very excited. They would rather stay where they were, with their friends. At least, Jessie would, she thought that maybe Mary didn’t have friends to celebrate with, since she had always been a loner. Mary would probably stay in her room, alone, on their birthday, and Jessie didn’t want her sister to go through that. Jessie looked at the door of the house she had lived in all her life, she didn’t want to admit it but she missed home, she missed her mother and she even missed her sister, not that she would ever tell her that. Anne, her mother was sitting by the window, enjoying the breeze coming from outside, but she turns when she hears someone arriving. “Jessie, darling! Welcome home.” She speeds to hug her daughter. That big empty house made her feel alone without her girls, and she felt sad that they didn’t share anything with her or each other. Her babies were always close and now they feel like strangers to one another. “Hi, Mom. Is Mary in yet?” Anne noticed the awareness with which her daughter asked about her sister, as if she was afraid of seeing her again. Jessie was always the strongest daughter, and that would cost her more than she imagined. “She’s getting ready for dinner in your old room.” “Alright. I’m going upstairs too, ok?” “Sure, honey. But please, both of you come down to help me when you can, alright?” “Of course, Mom.” Jessie hugged her mother before going upstairs to the room she used to share with her sister. The house has more than two rooms, but they always liked to share one, since they could talk until sunrise. They hadn’t done that in so long making it nothing more than an old memory. Mary was too busy talking on the phone to hear her sister come into the room. “Yes, babe, I know.” “Babe?” Mary turns around at lighting speed to see the look of shock in her sister’s face. “Uhm...Vince? Yeah, I have to call you back later.” She hangs up without another word. That would get her in trouble later, but she had to deal with her sister now. “Jessie! Long-time no see.” Her sister looked the same. Once, they thought the way to be distinguished would be with distinct hairstyles, so her sister decided she would have short hair for the rest of her life. It suited her personality, especially since she started curling it. Other than that, they looked the same, at least to other people. However, Mary and Jessie knew where to look for differences. The lighter colour of Mary’s eyes, or the birthmark Jessie has on her shoulder, were just examples that no one seemed to notice. Nonetheless, even though they look the same, Mary always felt inferior to Jessie. She wasn’t as strong or bold as her sister, and she envies her for that. “Who is ‘babe’, Mary?” Mary didn’t like the accusatory tone in her sister’s words. “That’s how you greet me, after almost a year? I don’t owe you any explanations.” Jessie sighs. When Mary refuses to talk about something nothing could make her. Unfortunately, that usually means it is something she knows Jessie would disapprove of. Jessie decides to let it go. Later she would ask her mother if she knew anything about this subject. “Hi sis, how is everything?” She smiles ironically at her sister. “Everything is good. How about art school?” “Interesting.” “That’s rare, you always find everything boring except partying.” Jessie knew her sister thought she was a party girl. It was true but not to the extent that Mary thinks. Nonetheless, that was the idea that she wanted her sister and everyone else to have of her. Less pressure that way. “That’s because everything is a party there.” “I guess you are in the right place then. Don’t let mom here you.” The sisters talked for a bit, before going down and help their mother. The dinner was smooth and even pleasant. However, at the back of Jessie’s head the drilling question about who “Vince” was kept nagging her. She volunteered to help her mother with the dishes which shocked both Anne and Mary. Once in the kitchen, Anne was the first to speak. “What do you want?” It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Anne to figure out the subtle worry in her daughter’s eyes. Jessie didn’t bother asking how she knew, she just jumped into the subject once she saw her sister go upstairs from the corner of her eye. “Who is Vince?” Anne paralyzed for a second. “Wha-what?” “You heard me. Who is Vince, Mom?” Her mother wouldn’t meet her eyes, so she knew something was wrong. “She told you about him?” Anne’s voice was hushed and trembled slightly enough to go unnoticed, but Jessie noticed it. “No. I heard her on the phone. She hanged up when she saw me. Who is he?” Anne took a deep breath and looked at her daughter with tears in her eyes. This was the real reason she wanted the girls back home. Perhaps Jessie could do something about this matter. “He is her boyfriend.” “Then why do you look so upset? Why is she keeping secrets?” Anne whimpered and told a grave story to her strong daughter. A story Jessie would not be able to accept. At the same time, Mary grabbed her phone and called him. He was furious that she had hung up on him but understood when she told him about her sister. Mary missed her sister. Jessie has always been her rock, and that’s why she was glad when they got separated, it forced her to grow. However, seeing her sister again, makes her want to run to her, cry on her shoulder and vent about everything that happened this past year. She couldn’t do that. She was an adult now, and her sister wouldn’t understand. Jessie was a good sister but tended to be a little judgemental and she often overreacted. Mary knew Jessie became curious since she heard her previous phone call, so she figured she had to tell her something. After a while Mary hung up the phone and soon after she hears her sister come in. “Hey, are we sharing the room, or do you prefer to have it to yourself?” Jessie asked quietly. “Are you serious? Why would we not share?” Jessie shrugs. “I thought that you might have gotten used to having your own space.” “I did Jess, but we are still sisters, and...well...I missed you.” Mary smiled at her sister and Jessie nodded. “I missed you too, Mare.” “Not that nickname!” “Always that nickname.” Jessie laughed as she laid down on her own bed, while Mary was sitting on hers. They turn of the lights and only the moonlight lit up their faces. “Jess...” Mary whispers after a while. “Hmm?” Jessie tries to sound sleepy when in fact she couldn’t even close her eyes. “Are you sleeping?” “Yes.” Mary laughed. “Oh come on... Don’t you want to know about Vince?” Mary tried to entice her sister. Jessie froze up but quickly covered it up. “Are you finally going to tell me about your sweetheart?” “How do you know that we are dating?” “You called him ‘babe’, genius.” “Oh, that’s true...” Mary took a deep breath. “We are dating for almost a year now.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie was hurt that Mary had been keeping such important things from her. “He doesn’t know you exist.” “What?” “He knows I have a sister...just not a...” Mary stops speaking, not sure of what to say to make it sound not so bad. “A twin? He doesn’t know you have a twin?” “No.” “Why not?” “Because you are his type while I’m not...every boy I ever liked, liked you instead, even when we look the same.” Jessie wants to refuse that notion, but it is true. However, that only happened because Mary, sweet rule-abiding Mary, always falls for the bad boys. “That only happens because you have bad taste.” Jessie tries to laugh it off and pretend that she wasn’t hurt by her sister’s words. “I get why you kept me from him, but why would you keep him from me?” A thought crossed Jessie’s mind at that second. A thought that truly hurt her. “I wouldn’t steal him you know?” “That’s not the reason! I just...I thought you wouldn’t approve.” “Why wouldn’t I approve?” Jessie knew why but wanted to know if Mary would come clean. If she didn’t, things are serious, and Jessie would have to interfere. “Not a particular reason. You just never approve of my crushes.” “The reason for that being, you always pick scumbags.” “See! That’s why I didn’t tell you!” “So are you admitting he is a scumbag?” “NO!” Mary shouted. “He isn’t! I love him.” This reaction is exactly what Anne warned her daughter about. “Then I don’t see your problem. Show me who he is.” Mary thought for a while but soon was showing her sister the photos of her sweetheart. Jessie somehow managed to control her criticism at least in from of her sister and learn what she could about him. By the time they went to sleep, Jessie knew what she had to do. She woke up early the next morning and after a quick chat with her mother she got in her car and left. Not a single word to her sister. The drive took about four hours, but Jessie was too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice. She had turned off her phone so she could drive in peace, and during the whole time, she kept reassuring herself that she was doing the right thing. However, when she finally got there, she had to force herself out of the car. Jessie wasn’t sure if she could do what she knew she had to. Was she ready to lose her sister? Twins have a bond like no other. Losing her would be like losing a piece of herself. However, Jessie knew that when you truly love someone, you have to be willing to lose them for their own good. After briefly speaking to a few people, she stood outside a door. She raised her hand, ready to knock but at the last possible second she stopped. She couldn’t do it. She turned around, ready to give up and try another way. A way she knew would fail. Suddenly, the door opens. “Mary? You got here fast.” Jessie turn around to see an average looking guy. He was definitely not her type, but Mary always fell for guy that look like rule breakers. Jessie figures she envied them. Mary should be only an hour or so behind Jessie, so she had to do what she came here to do, fast. “Hey, Vincent. I missed you, so I tried to get here quickly.” It has been a while since Jessie pretended to be Mary, and they never did it without the other one’s knowledge, but she was already here so she might as well see where this goes. His eyes analyze her, looking up and down, judging everything Jessie knew it was different from Mary. Her hair, her clothes, her make up. A few guys walked by and look at Jessie with flirtatious eyes, obviously enjoying the view of her naked legs and shoulders. She was wearing really short shorts and a strapless top. “Get in.” Vincent said and she did. As soon as she was in the room, Vincent closed the door with too much strength. He forcefully grabbed her arm. “What the hell are you wearing?! And what did you do to your hair?!” His temper coming up easier than Jessie thought it would. He was perfectly normal a few seconds ago, but Jessie could clearly see the monster within. Perhaps it was because she was prepared for it. What her mother had told her about how this guy put her sister in the hospital more than once the past year made her blood boil. Anne had tried to warn her daughter and make her leave him, but that only got her three months without any news from her. Finally, her mother had to choose between losing her daughter or sit by while she got herself killed. Jessie believed her mother. Who wouldn’t when confronted with Anne’s desperate cry for help? However, she needed to see for herself. Mary was happy while talking about Vincent, and that made Jessie second guess her instincts. Not anymore. The forceful grip that Vincent had on her arm made it clear. No more second guessing her decisions. If her sister wouldn’t make the right choice, Jessie would make it for her, even if that meant losing her. “I’m sorry, babe. My clothes got ruined so I had to borrow some from my sister and my mother insisted on going to the salon as a birthday gift.” Jessie pouted. “I thought you might like it...” Vincent’s grip weaken a little face to the harmless facade Jessie was showing. “I don’t like other men looking at you.” The threat was obvious in his tone. If other men were to look at his girlfriend, she was the one that would suffer the consequences. Jessie swallowed her disgust and smiled coyly at her sister’s boyfriend. “I don’t want anyone else looking at me either.” She states and for a split second she wanted to vomit thinking about what she would have to do. “You better.” He says and she kisses him slightly. He seems shocked but doesn’t push her away. “I can prove it to you. That I’m only yours.” She said luring him to the sofa, that thankfully was exactly where she needed it to be. Vincent took his shirt before they even get there and quickly pulled her into his lap so that she was straddling him. Jessie wanted to shudder in repulse to his touch, but she knew she wouldn’t need to endure it much longer when she saw the doorknob twist. Vincent was too busy kissing her neck to notice but Jessie got ready for what would follow. Mary opens the door and freezes in place. Her brain couldn’t process what her eyes were seeing. From her point of view at the door, Jessie appear to be naked while straddling her boyfriend that was kissing her neck passionately. Jessie looked up and notice Mary at the door and did something that shattered Mary’s unresponsive stance. Jessie smiled. When Mary saw her smile, she bolted out of the door. The bang of the door was the signal for Jessie to get out of Vincent’s grip and make her way towards the door. “Where are you going?” He said not pleased at all. “Away, and you better never show your face near me again.” “What?” The shock of having her respond to him momentarily surpass his range. “What did you say to me?!” “I already called the police. If you EVER go near me again, you’ll regret it. A lot of my friends are cops and you do not want to mess with them. Forget you ever met me and go find someone else to bully.” His ego was bruised, and he wanted to lash out. He raised his hand and Jessie looked straight into his eyes. “If you touch me, jail will be your permanent home for a long while.” Her voice was stable, and he backed down. Coward. Jessie ran out the door and saw her sister near her car in the parking lot. She was obviously crying, and it took Jessie a minute to organize her thoughts and do what needed to be done. Mary saw her before she could say anything and started to angrily shout at her. “How could you betray me like this!! You are my sister! My twin!” “Mom told me everything.” That made Mary pause. “I knew you wouldn’t leave him for yourself, so now you’ll have too.” “Maybe I won’t!” She said out of spite. “Then every time you kiss him, you’ll remember that I kissed him. Every time you get in bed with him, you’ll picture me there with him instead. You know? He knew I wasn’t you and he still wanted me. I guess you were right. I really am his type.” Jessie lied, but what was a lie next to what she had already done? “I’ll never forgive you.” Mary says with finality as she gets in her car. “That’s ok.” Jessie murmured. As Jessie watched her sister drive away, her only hope is that one day she’ll realize that she did it for her.


TW: Death, burning Do you remember when we’d lay down by the ocean, sun beating on our backs until we were lobster red and hobbling back inside? When we would drink as many piña coladas as possible, not caring that we were one sip away from the bartender cutting us off? We must’ve been in our twenties. Twenty-three? No, twenty-four. That’s right. It was twenty-four. There was that Friday night when we went down to the bonfire and Steven Long was there. Oh man, did you have a thing for Steven Long. He was that kind of tall, dark, and handsome man everyone was pining after, but he only had eyes for you. And you him. I remember being green with envy seeing that man stand beside my favorite person. Watching from afar, I would think, He does not deserve someone like her. Because it was true. Steven Long was held back for two years and you were a prodigy in all things academics. It was not yin and yang because you and I were yin-yangs. It was wrong, that’s what it was. Before the bonfire, though, Steven Long was just a stranger in our eyes. During those humid nights, our necks craned toward the sky to watch shooting stars while waves splashed the shore. I liked those nights. I liked when it was just us two and no boys. We would crack open a few cans and sing until our throats went dry and our lungs hurt from twirling around. The sand would scrape at our calves and knees, but how could we care? Do you remember that? When we would go inside and our lower halves were covered in the beach, but we were both too tired and too lazy to rinse them off. Your mom got all mad and her face would turn as red as our burnt ones. “Stop tracking sand into my house!” she’d shout, startling us both awake at 6 a.m. Remember how scared we were that she’d never let us back to the beach? We were too old for a scolding, but still young enough to have everything taken away by our parents. “Let’s watch the sunset together,” you’d tell me every single day. And, if I wasn’t responsive, you’d pull me so close that I felt your lips at the shell of my ear. The tickle of your whispers would vibrate through me every time, and I embraced the shivers that rolled down my spine when you’d whisper the exact same phrase again. Observing the sunsets on your mom’s porch was the only time we had where we could be fully alone, where we could be ourselves. Before your mom came home and scolded us and after we were surrounded by other beachgoers. I cherished those moments when it was just us. Could we ever go back to that? Right. We can’t. It was that Friday that changed everything. There was no early Saturday morning after with your mom shouting at us for dirtying her house. There was no dancing or singing or sandy limbs. Because that Friday, I wasn’t the one on your mind anymore. Stranger Steven Long had your attention. He didn’t even know you and still, he called you to sit on his lap. I remember feeling the ghost of your fingertips on mine when you brushed against them as you left me behind. That wasn’t the moment when I knew it was over for me; it was when you looked up at him. I had never seen you look at me the way you looked at that stranger. Wide, curious eyes and full lips slightly open--my fingers inched to close your jaw for you. And then the two of you stood up. That was right before. It was my heart beating too fast that alerted me something was wrong. Not the frantic shouts from the people around, but an organ. My shaky knees and the goosebumps that pimpled my arms were the telltale signs that something bad was about to happen. My body reacted before my brain. Isn’t that weird? And I kept telling myself, She’ll come back for me. She always does. You always did. But that was the first time you weren’t by my side. Everything changed in just under an hour. Do you regret it? Choosing Steven Long, that is. Do you? You do. I know you do. I can see it in your eyes, in the years of wear shown on your face. Just like the leather pants you wore that night. Yes, I even remember the pants. Tight enough to show off your curves, yet you claimed they were breathable. I guess they were considering how fast you ran off. I’m still not sure what he whispered in your ear during the bonfire that had you leaping out of your seat before any of us. There are tons of unanswered questions I still think about so many years later. Like why my name never crossed your lips or why you never came to visit me. There were no more drinks at the bar by the beach or roasting in the sun. Did those moments matter to you as they did for me? Sometimes I wonder if you even remember me being a part of your life. Sometimes I wonder if you remember a life without Steven Long. Every day I wish we never sat around that bonfire. But now you’re here. Now you’re standing right before me years later. Shriveled skin and dark spots that show off the times we spent outside together. Unlike you, I look just like I did when we were twenty-three. No. Twenty-four. That’s right. We were twenty-four when the bonfire got out of control. We were twenty-four when I felt my hair go up in flames, singeing my face and my eyebrows and my lashes. Tearing through my clothes like they didn’t exist and scarring my body, ridding the touches you left there. Twenty-four when you walked away with Steven Long while sirens wailed in the distance. How does it feel being eighty-eight when I’m still twenty-four?


Normalton Middle School’s playground sat silent save for the slight metallic creak of the playground equipment as the breeze blew through. A far cry from the usual cacophony of children screaming and laughing in play. The sun had long set, and the moon now kept watch in the sky. The entire playground was a picture of serenity as it waited for the light of day and the return of the many children who would fill the yard with their voices and imaginations. But for now, only two teenage girls stood upon the grounds of the playground as they caught their breath. The first had her brunette hair kept back by a hairband, a line of freckles going from the bridge of her nose to below her eyes. She wore jeans and a pullover sweater. A large black raven was perched on her shoulder cooing softly. “Gah, we’re no closer than we were earlier.” the girl grumbled. “Allow me!” the raven shouted. The girl sighed as the raven flew from her shoulder and perched at the top of a slide. The second fair skinned girl frowned, her blonde hair done up in a braid that rested on her shoulder, her blue eyes seemed to shine in the dim lighting, her ears were notably elfin and a pair of blue butterfly wings fluttered behind her back absentmindedly. “Remind me again about this case, Yvette?” Yvette regarded her fae friend with a huff, “Did you actually forget Estrella? Or is this your fae sense of humor?” Estrella didn’t reply immediately as she strode to one of the swings and sat upon it. She gestured Yvette to the one next to her. “Why don’t you sit and refresh both our memories? Remember when we used to play on these when we were younger?” “How could I forget?” Yvette replied. The two began to gradually swing together, each picking up the pace as the swingsets began to creak. “I guess talking about the case might be beneficial.” Yvette admitted with a grunt. Estrella smiled knowingly, “So you’re the intrepid teen witch detective. We’re looking for what now? A cat that’s not even a mage’s familiar, are you so desperate you’ve started taking lost pet cases?” “It’s not a pet or a familiar. It’s an oracular cat.” Yvette reminded her fae friend. “An oracular cat? Like a cat that can see the future? I have never heard of such a thing.” Yvette swung her legs making the swing go higher, “Yeah, I’ve heard of an oracular pig before, but not a cat.” Estrella hummed as she spoke, “And someone lost this fortune telling feline?” “More like they think it was catnapped. Mrs. Fraz said it looked like someone tossed her place, and a window was smashed open,” Yvette sighed, “You’d think an oracular cat would know if it was about to be catnapped.” “Divination and prophecy are not precise. You know that Yvette. The future is always in motion.” Yvette’s face lit up, “Or maybe the cat DID know about the attempt, maybe it fled on its own just before the would-be thieves tried to grab it!” “Possible I suppose.” Estrella admitted. “Cole!” Yvette called. The raven fluttered down from the top of the slide and landed on the swing set's crossbar, tilting its head as it looked at Yvette. "I need your sharp eyes. Fly reconnaissance." Cole cawed in affirmation and took to the air with a powerful flap of his wings, circling the playground before extending his search to the surrounding areas. Yvette and Estrella continued swinging, their movements syncing in rhythm as they discussed their next steps. "As Cole scouts from above, we should consider returning to Mrs. Fraz's place again," Yvette suggested, her swing reaching its apex. "Maybe we missed something." Estrella nodded. “Sure thing.” Yvette swung a bit more, “Maybe Ian has had more luck than us with his half werewolf sense of smell.” Estrella made a disgusted noise the way she always did whenever Yvette would mention her boyfriend. “You sure Ian wont eat that oracular cat?” Yvette huffed, “Estrella, why must you always act like that?” “Like what?” Estrella asked. “Ian isn’t a dumb brute. He’s come through for us on more than one occasion.” Yvette defended her absentee beau. Estrella rolled her eyes, “If you say so Yvette.” The swings began to slow as they focused more on their discussion than on pumping their legs. Yvette's mind raced through possible scenarios, trying to piece together the puzzle of the missing oracular cat. "This isn't just about a missing pet," she said, her tone serious. "If someone really did try to steal it, they probably know about its abilities.” “A reliable source of divination is tempting to some.” Estrella grunted. A thought came to Yvette, “Especially for mortals with no magic reliant on others' services.” “Who may or may not be legitimate.” Estrella added. Yvette shook her head as she swung fast again, “I can only imagine why they would want such an animal. Betting on sports, stock market, the usual boring stuff.” “That doesn’t narrow your suspects very much.” Estrella pointed out. “Not yet.” Yvette admitted. They swung in silence and Yvette prepared to stop and resume the search when Estrella spoke. “Hey, remember when I used to launch myself into the air with these swings?” “How could I forget?” Yvette replied as she regarded her fae friend. Estrella’s face broke out into a mischievous smile. “I bet I can still do it.” The fae’s wings fluttered gently, casting shimmering light reflections around them. With a final surge Estrella swung to the swings maximum height before she let go of the chains The girl was launched into the air and began to plummet before her wings began to flutter and she gained altitude. “Groovy! I’ve still got it.” Estrella shouted. Yvette stared up at her friend. “Nicely done, now....” “Hey, jump Yvette! I’ll catch you, just like old times.” Estrella said gleefully. “No way, Estrella. We’ve gotten too big for that sort of thing.” But the fae was relentless as she hovered just above where Yvette swung. “Cooooome onnnn! Don’t get boring on me now, witch girl. I’ll catch you and fly you to the top of the slide.” Yvette let out a long drawn out sigh before speaking. “Alright here it goes.” Yvette moved her legs back as hard as she could and then forward as she let go of the swing, she flew through the air as Estrella grabbed her around the waist. “Got you! Oh, golly, you’re heavier than you look! Cripes!” The two girls landed in a sprawl in the middle of the playground with a combined grunt. Fortunately for the two sleuths the fall wasn’t great enough to cause any serious injury. Yvette was flat on her back as Estrella lay sprawled atop her. The two giggled for a moment until their eyes met, the human witch and the fae regarded one another, both suddenly becoming very aware of how close they were and how much they had grown from their middle school years. Yvette’s freckled face grew red as she stared up at Estrella. The fae’s face went from shock to a sly smile. “You... can get off of me now.” Yvette whispered. “Oh?” Estrella replied as she leaned closer. Yvette let out a short gasp but didn’t protest. “Pay attention Yvette!” Cole’s voice called out startling both girls as the raven returned a tuft of fur in his beak. The moment ruined the two girls got to their feet. “Right, yes the case.” Yvette grunted. Estrella sighed knowing she’d probably never get another opportunity. “Yes, Yvette, I know that’s what matters to you.”


She watches as the checkers of green and brown become dotted with matchbox size cars driving down the black strips of highway around the tiny boxes that she knows are houses. She watches as the plane takes its turn to begin its descent to the airport. Her excitement is contained into a bright smile as she watches the plane decend, beginning the trip that she had always dreamed of and had gotten for practicaly nothing. She had saved her money, tidbits of change and loose bills. She had often refrained from digging into that money to go out with the girls or on nights when she wanted to splurge in order to avoid cooking for one. She had sacrificed her morning lattes and had made her coffee at home. There were some funny moments when she had tried to duplicate some of her favorite morning beverages and had failed epically. Disasters that she had often posted on her social media for a laugh. She often did things like this because she liked to live life on the lighter side of things. She did her best to not get worked up over the little things because it left her drained and hating the world that she was living in. After all of her cutting out the unnecessary things out of life, she had finally saved enough to take the vacation that she had always wanted to take. Even better, she had found it for a much cheaper rate which meant that she had extra money to do some extra sightseeing while she was here. Everything had worked out better than she had hoped when she originally started looking at what she would need in order to go. As she made her way into the airport she felt as though her feet weren’t touching the floor. This was the lightest she had felt in a long time and she could feel the excitement fluttering in her stomach as she made her way through the airport to find the vehicle that was there to pick her up. It was at the entrance, marked Enchanted Getaways. She rode quietly, relaxed for the first time in a year. She heard the radio announcer start his spiel and heard him announce the next song following it up with, “You’re listening to Enchanted Getaways radio.” The next song that played was a familiar one, and she happily hummed along as it played. She was thinking about everything that she had needed to do in order to make this a reality. She would have preferred to travel with someone, but she hadn’t dated anyone in almost two years and she had worked extra hours and grabbed some shifts at the local diner in order to make this happen. She was alone. Part of her was saddened by this thought and the other part knew that it wouldn’t matter once she was lounging on the beach with a cold fruity drink in her hand. As they pulled through the entrance to the resort, she noticed the bright red, yellow, pink, and purple flowers that lined the drive with the spacious palms that dotted the landscape. She could hear the light music from the car radio as the window whirred quietly down and she breathed in the fresh air of the tropical paradise that she was going to be spending the next week relaxing in. The driver pulled to the front of the hotel that she would be staying in and climbed out of the driver’s seat. He opened her door and took her hand to help her out of the back seat. The smile that played across his lips was slightly knowing and disturbing. He nodded to her as he made his way to the back of the vehicle to get her bags. She turned slowly taking the scenery in around her. It was magical and breathtaking and everything that she had dreamed about. The colors were striking and bright. The flowers that lined There was a warm breeze blowing in from the ocean and she took a deep breath, enjoying the scents that tantalized her nose. There was such a mixture of the salty sea air, the flowers, the food, and as she walked into the hotel lobby, she felt the cool from the air conditioner hit her bare legs. The lobby was spacious and filled with potted plants, cool lights, plush furniture, and the sparkling bannister that curved up and around, surrounding the cool crisp white marble stairs. She couldn’t believe how lucky she had gotten, finding this company and this much luxury for the bargain that she had gotten it for. She had felt that the questionnaire that she had filled out was a little ridiculous, but she had filled it out enthusiastically because the price was absolutely unbelievable. She couldn’t believe her good fortune when she had stumbled across the bargain of a lifetime. She found her way to the massive front desk and informed the gentleman standing there that she was ready to check in to her room. As he handed her the key to her room, he informed her that the person she would be sharing her suite with had already checked in and was in the room. She froze. There were a million thoughts racing through her mind. The loudest one that was screaming at her was, what in the world this guy was talking about. She didn’t have anyone that she was sharing her suite with. She had booked this to get away from everyone. She questioned the clerk behind the desk about this, and he smiled as he asked her, “You scheduled a vacation with Enchanted Getaways , this is how it’s done.” “H-h-how what’s done?”, stumbled out of her mouth. “How did you book your stay with us?” “I did it online. I found it, fell in love with the price, answered some questions, and booked it.” It was in that moment that she learned that she had signed up to meet her possible soul mate. All the questions that she had answered led them to a match and then she had gone on to book the vacation of her dreams. She now understood what it meant when the box had popped up that stated, ‘ We found your match! Please continue to book your room .’ Now here she was about to go to her room and meet a complete stranger that she would be spending the next 7 days and 6 nights with in the same hotel room. Her heart was pounding as she and her bags made their way to the elevator that would take her to her room. As she exited the elevator and made her way to the door, the butterflies that had danced around her stomach and gave her a sense of excitement when her plane had landed, had now started to only flutter weakly, as they do when you sense dread. She felt as though there were a thousand that had chosen to fall and just lie there. Their wings fluttering weakly as they waited to die. They now felt heavy as any weight. They just sat there heavily weighing down in her stomach. She put her key in the slot and as the light begin blinking green, he opened the door. His hair was dark and his eyes were crystal blue. His face was round and inviting and he was smiling as he welcomed her in to the room and began showing her around the suite that she had booked just a short month ago thinking that she would be spending the week alone, enjoying the quiet and the salty sea air. She now understood how she had gotten the room for such a bargain. The man that was giving her the guided tour had been billed the other half of the room. He stopped in front of a set of French doors and his deep voice told her, “So, my name’s Mike. What’s your name?”


I worked as a Disneyland employee for 30 years. Disney is a pretty good employer, giving me a retirement package that’ll take care of me for the rest of my twilight years. It’s been many seasons since I pulled my last shift. They even had a retirement party for me at Club 33, which was very special. I started off as a suit back in the 70s, doing insurance adjustments for the park and all its new rides. It was a pretty good gig, but I barely got to spend any time in the park itself. I ended up taking a major pay cut when I saw that a Ride Operator position opened up for my favorite attraction: The Haunted Mansion. I walk my dog Pluto by those gates nearly every morning. We go up and down these streets for hours, taking in the familiar sights and smells of Anaheim. Sometimes I’ll see other retired members of the old guard and we’ll exchange some old stories. I like getting coffee at that mexican joint, they put cinnamon in it and don’t overcharge. Even with a nice pension, you gotta find all the good deals, you know? After coffee and walking Pluto around I’ll go home and open a clamshell or two, maybe heat up one of those TV dinners. That’s pretty much how the days go for me. The nights on the other hand, well, that’s a whole different story. For a guy whos worked in a Haunted Mansion his whole life, you’d think he’d get used to all the ghosts. Take it from me, you never do. I know the names and faces of all of them. I thought they’d start to go away over time, like memories. I can’t seem to shake them. You know the mirror bit with the hitchhikers? Its kinda like that. But when you’re a normal park guest, you just get these nice funny memories. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen, those ghosts ride with you all the way home. The first time I ever saw a dead body was on the job. Real religious guy had his ticker stop after seeing Madam Leota’s head talking to him in that crystal ball. I mean, normal people like you and I know this stuff aint real. But I think these old timers who get talked into it by their grandkids, I mean, they got scared of the mummy and the wolf guy in those black and white movies. Maybe it was just his time to go? He had slumped over in his pod, and I noticed pretty instantly on the cameras that he was in distress. I hit the kill switch, which stops the entire ride. From there, I exited the control booth and made my way into the ride. I was able to free him and lay him on his side. You see, back then we didn’t do CPR or any of that. I knew to check his breathing and his pulse, but I couldn’t really tell whether the old guy was still among the living. Turns out he wasn’t, and the doctors said he died pretty much instantly. The whole thing gave me quite the fright, and I was pretty jumpy for a couple of weeks there. One of my buddies from the insurance department got ahold of me one night and said that the old guy’s family was really putting the park through the wringer. I’m talking a damn near seven figure settlement. They paid it though, because if there’s anything the Disney company has, it’s a bottomless pit of dough. They’re used to throwing huge chunks of the stuff at every problem they encounter. Need a hard to get permit to expand the park into public property? Bam, done. Need to pay off a boatload of people who got sick during the Country Bear salmonella fiasco? Cha Ching, everyone’s happy. You get the picture. Money fixes everything... but you’d probably be shocked to find out the lengths Disney will go to save a buck. There was a kid who fell off Splash Mountain and got injured pretty badly. Like, the kinds of injuries that entire generations of Walt’s family would have to pay for. Treatments, surgeries, medications, all of it... and that’s AFTER the seven figure settlement. It really spooked my old department, as well as the shareholders. Who would’ve thought one lousy kid could cause such a fuss? I mean, at this point Disney was the largest and most successful company in the world. You’d think that they’d find some way to keep this sort of thing from happening again. Well, turns out they did. They called all of us loyal long haulers into a meeting one day. I thought the whole thing was a joke, like a prank or something. They were rolling out this parkwide program called “The Sleeping Beauty Protocol”. It was a type of contingency to make sure there weren’t any more situations which would cost the park any extra money. As it turns out, a dead guest is much more inexpensive than an injured guest. Well, despite my better judgement, I agreed to this whole Sleeping Beauty Protocol. This is what it entailed: Each ride and park section had a team of three Fairy Godmothers. I guess in my case, I’d be a Godfather. These were normal employees, like ride operators or cast members. They each had a key to a mini-fridge hidden in their section. Within this mini fridge were a series of discreet looking syringes, which we would administer to the occasional severely injured guest. We called this deadly injection the “Witches Apple”. I heard it didn’t hurt or nothing, it just put them to sleep. Pretty crazy, huh? We all had to sign nondisclosure agreements, but the pay increase was incredible. I was wearing a custom Rolex watch after my first year of being part of the Sleeping Beauty Protocol Team. Luckily I only had to give out three Witches Apples during my entire tenure at the park. The first one went pretty swell. A lighting fixture had come loose and fell on one of the guests in the Graveyard Jamboree section of the Haunted Mansion. I, of course, was working the booth. I hit the kill switch, but decided to leave the lights off. The insurance guys made the call within a minute or so, and they called a Code Sleeping Beauty on him. I grabbed my key, unlocked the fridge and shagged ass. We had to make sure to do this quick and efficiently, and make sure there were no witnesses. I was able to reach the guest, whose head looked like a split cantaloupe. I’ll never forget the gurgling sound they made as the blood ran out their mouth and nose. I pulled the cap off of the syringe, located their AC vein in their forearm, and then performed my first successful euthanasia. The gurgling stopped, and voila! Old man Walt Disney was smiling down on me that day, that’s for sure. The second time was when I was on my break outside Thunder Mountain Railroad, tucking into a delicious caramel covered apple. I like standing by the tracks and listening to the rail car roll by overhead. Its such a satisfying sound--so powerful. Well, as luck would have it, there was a loud mechanical snap that happened just as the train car sped by, and a piece of metal from the track came loose. Nobody on the ride itself got injured, but the metal shard plunged into a ladies chest right across from me. I mean, this thing hit her with so much force she slid across the ground several feet. My pager began buzzing immediately. I knew what the numbers stood for. It was time for us to clear the scene and let loose the Sleeping Beauty Protocol. We quickly ushered everyone out of the area, and I waited for the Adventure Land team to show up with the damn apple. They were taking too long, and I was starting to get nervous. They finally showed up after three minutes. The poor kid’s hands were shaking, looking at this barely alive woman with a metal shard stickin out of her chest. At this rate he was gonna drop the damn syringe, so I grabbed it and plunged it into the womans jugular. Another day, another dollar saved. The third one was the worst though, and I really didn’t get all the credit for it. Right before I retired this big fat guy fell out of the car on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. The car kept going, but he stayed there laying on the track. You see, those older rides don’t have such good cameras. I happened to be covering a shift that day, and I was dozing off at the controls. I woke up to a scream, which I found out came from the fat sonofabitch who got ran over by the next two cars. People were screaming to stop the ride, but the button was stuck. By the time I was able to unstick the piece of crap, all hell had broken loose. People were running, screaming, filming it all on their nifty new smartphones. I pushed my way through the many colorful sets which made up the frog ride, and the blood trail led me right to the guy. His legs were twisted in all sorts of mangled directions, chunks of flesh stuck in the chains and gears in the track. He was sitting up against a 2D cutout of wooden crates, looking at me with desperate eyes. He was wide awake and talking. “My legs! My goddamn legs! Look at them! Oh my god please help me!” he yelled. The code was called and my coworker came in with the magical cocktail that’d make this big fellas dreams come true. They let me do the honors. I pulled off the cap and stood over him. “What the hell is that thing? What are you giving me?!” He shouted accusingly. I told him it was for the pain while we waited for the EMTs. Well, I was half right. I administered the Witches Apple into his blood speckled arm, and he immediately started seizing. He didn’t die though. He just breathed hard, occasionally thrashing around and moaning. I got a call from the shot callers upstairs and they said videos from the smartphones had gained such attention on social media that the EMTs were actually on their way. This was bad. We had to improvise on this one. There was a new hire who wasn’t on the Sleeping Beauty Protocol team per se, but he was a suited cast member. Nobody would be able to really identify him coming in or out of the Mr. Toads ride. I knew he was on shift as Donald Duck, and I quickly coordinated with the suits to pull him aside for a favor. You see, there was one thing I knew about this new recruit. He was big, strong, and trained in brazilian jiu jitsu. I knew he would have what it takes to finish the job. Time was running out, and we got a suit on site to get the kid up to speed. They offered him a “Dreams Come True” package, which was a serious amount of up-front money, a pay raise, and of course, a nondisclosure agreement. The kid signed, pen held in his big white donald duck hand. They escorted him into the ride, and over to the portly liability, sitting up again wide awake. “What the hell? Donald Duck? Whats going on here? What did you shoot me up with? That stuff almost killed me! You’re all gonna pay for what you’re doing here!” He shouted, pointing at us accusingly with his weak semi-mangled gesture. Donald looked over at me, and I nodded approvingly. Donald moved in quick, positioning himself behind the fat man. He placed him in a rear naked chokehold, squeezing with all of his might. He even started singing in a perfect duck voice “A dream is a wish your heart makes... when you’re fast asleep” from Cinderella. He sang so gently and soothingly while he drained the life from the man’s body. His rubbery, brokens legs stopped thrashing and went limp. I’d like to say that the guest died with a smile on their face, given that they were gifted a top notch Disney quality experience in their last moments. But nope, it was a twisted, oxygen deprived grimace, frozen forever in my memory. His loss though, Disney really goes out of their way to deliver one-of-a-kind custom tailored experiences for all their guests. Especially special ones like this now blob of lifeless grey flesh. That was the last one I was ever part of. I don’t regret being part of the Sleeping Beauty Protocol. Disney was a good employer and they took great care of me. People die all the time, but how many people can say that they died at the Magic Kingdom? I’ll tell you, only the ones that wake me up at night. Only the ones who ride in the back seat of my car. Only the ones who look at me from behind the closed gates every morning. It’s not just the ones that I gave the Apple to; It’s all of them. To my understanding, the Apple has been given to more than a hundred guests over the years. I think one day I’ll end up joining them. Maybe someday when Pluto’s gone and my legs cant carry me through my daily walks anymore, I’ll have myself a little accident on my favorite ride. Maybe then you might find me dancing with all my friends in the ballroom, flying around the graveyard, or maybe even riding home with a guest in the backseat of a car.