Rain poured and the skies turned gray. Footsteps sounded like a march in union. Everyone was trying to get home and avoid the enemy above. Soon it became stronger. Trees started to bend and struggled with balance. Powerful winds struck at building signs and isolated cars. The skies above roared as if it was an angry god, the thunder looked like a vein popping out. It was a battlefield, and no one wanted to be a part of it.

In the very corner of the streets lies a man in a brown suit inside his car. “I can’t believe this is happening. I might die,” Henry said. He just got off of work and had to make it back home to his family. He was not expecting a raging weapon from mother nature today. The thought of his children and wife waiting for his return made him nervous. He tried to call but his phone was already dead. I’m not having the best of luck aren’t I. The cold breeze made him stiff like a frozen pole. It was getting worse and worse. Another car flipped to the side from the wind's striking attack. A few seconds later his own car began to wobble. It's as if he was being taunted. Henry shook his head and couldn’t wait any longer. I know it's not any safer but maybe I can find another spot to shelter in. The car door opened wide, and Henry dashed away. He ran through the hurricane storm. The concrete was slippery, and his vision was impaired by the drizzling rain and bashful winds. He stopped at a bakery building, the windows closed and everything dark. Figures. He went under its roof, finally protected. Henry inhaled and exhaled his shivery breath and closed his eyes.

Drip Drip Drop. The rain continued to speak. Drip Drop Drop Drip…Purr. Henry frowned at the sudden change. Drop Drip…Meow. Henry jolted from his break and turned his head both ways. No one’s here, just me. Henry closed his eyes once again. MEOW. Henry looked down and saw where the source was coming from. A small black cat. “Oh, hello my little furry friend got caught in the storm too huh?” Henry bent down and looked at the timid feline. The cat purred in response and licked his nose with its tiny tongue.

“We are both stuck here until it calms, I guess…well hopefully it won’t get too dangerous here.” Henry chuckled at his own nervousness.

The cat tilted its head in response. Its yellow eyes glowed like a car’s headlights. It stared intently at the man and seemed to understand him. The cat went to the side of the building and looked back at the man.

“What is it? Why are you leaving me so soon?” Henry's facial expression turned sad. He liked having a small companion with him. Made him less alone in this frantic weather.

The cat meowed again and twirled in a circle. This little guy wants me to come along? Henry went up to the cat and watched it twirl again in response. Well, what other choice do I have? Henry and the cat walked together in the alleyway. The rain was still boisterous but was less harsh in this area. The cat paused and turned its head. It went up against a pipeline and beneath it was a wide deep tunnel. Its paws mashed on the muddy dirt, and it slid under, meowing its friend to follow. Henry caught on to the signal and ducked underneath the surprisingly large tunnel.

Both travelers crawled underneath the mysterious tunnel. The sound of rain was more like a drum beating. Light blasted in the darkness as they crawled further to it. Once they reached the end of the tunnel there was a new alley. There was no messy weather. Just a clear sky and trees bristling with the wind.

“How? It's like I entered a whole new world.” Henry wanted to discover more but his feline friend was already on the lead. “Oh, hold up, I’m coming, I’m coming”.

They stopped at a cyclone fence and the cat looked around. It leaped high in the air and went over the fence, later, it signaled his tall friend to do the same.

Henry chuckled again. “Well, I can’t jump very high like you do.” Henry climbed the fence and observed his new surroundings when he landed. No rain. No blazing winds. And no harsh storms. It was just a dead end. The only thing that was there was an empty trash bin laying on the ground. The cat pushed the lid and went inside the garbage bin. Henry doing the same.

Henry felt the surface become smoother and soon was sliding down as if he was at a park. At the very end he reached the destination and slid down next to his friend and ally. The cat ears perked up when it noticed him and motioned him to look around.

Henry looked around and noticed the number of antiques and valuable objects. It ranged from trophies, photos, record players, jewelry, and even furniture. Henry was quite shocked at how a small cat could even find a spot like this. I wondered if it even collected some of this stuff too. From raging storms and heavy rain to a secret stash of treasure. Henry felt like a pirate at that point. He saw old board games too and even a golden crown. This feels like a reward. Henry smiles to himself. Henry saw the cat looking at a photo and meowing very sadly. Henry sat down next to it and noticed the picture resembled a family.

“Oh, was this your family?” Henry mentioned as he picked up the photograph. He looked back at the cat and saw the sadness in its eyes. Oh, maybe you had a family or just really lonely. An idea popped up in his head. “Hey, my little friend, I have something to tell you.” The cat looked up and placed its paw on his knee, showing that it was listening. “How would you like to be a part of my family? I have one too.” Henry pointed at the photo and then at himself. The cat understood this, and its tail raised up a bit.  Now that I think about it, you need a name too . “And how about a name?” Henry said as the cat looked at him with curiosity. “Let’s name you….” Henry looked around and tapped his chin. “How about Treasure?” The newly named cat purred in happiness. “Once the storm clears up from the other side, we can go back home.” He petted his new companion and family member on the head and let Treasure cuddle up on his chest. The raging storm may have been a nasty one, but Henry was happy to be saved by a very smart cat named Treasure.


"Christmas time is here everyone! I hope you all are as excited as I am about our secret Santa gift swap! I've got some refreshments set up on the back table as well as a goodie bag for each of you to grab when you leave. DJ Xtreme is here tonight to set the mood right. So, let's get this party started!", Shelly announced to everyone at the Lions Guard Inc. Christmas party.

As the owner of the

world's most successful security company,

Shelly took pride in hosting her company's annual Christmas parties. She really enjoys spending time with her employees outside of work hours.

The time spent decorating all around the office shows how much joy she has. There were red, green, and silver garlands, tinsel, balloons, snowmen, and Christmas trees.

        " Wow! Boss lady got it looking really nice in here tonight. Maybe you should take some notes, Martha." Stew said with a smirk on his face.

"You wonder why I can't stand you, Stew.

Then again, no woman on this earth can stand you. That's why you're still single." Martha responded as she proceeded to the refreshment table. Stew shook his head as he laughed off Martha's response and found a table for them to sit. "Stew! How's it going my man?" Rick asked excitingly as he takes a sip of the anonymous Christmas punch Shelly makes every year. "I can't call it, Rick. How are you?" replied Stew as he took a seat across from him.

"I'm doing well, thanks for asking. I'm planning an international getaway to Dubai for the Spring. As soon as I land there, my feet will be planted in the sand and I will be enjoying an adventurous camel ride. I heard the variety of wines and spirits are exquisite there." Rick explained as he stared off into space in his own world.

"I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a blast!" Stew said sarcastically, being that every employee thinks Rick makes up all of his lavish and luxurious stories.

      Meanwhile, Martha is at the refreshment table trying to decide whether she should partake in Shelly's anonymous Christmas punch or just settle for some water instead. "Why does she have to make this unknown punch every year? There are other drinks at the store that could've been brought." Martha complained in frustration to her coworker Karla.

"You know she has to be in control of everything. From what pens we use to how many staples are in the staplers. Irritates me every time. Let's get some drinks from the vending machine in the break room. " Karla responded. "Now we're talking." Martha said in agreement.

Both ladies started making their way to the break room as Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas' blasts from the DJ's speakers.

       "You play some great songs." Shelly yells over the loud music. "Thanks. I try to do my best, you know." DJ Xtreme responded with a smile as he was flipping switches and turning knobs on his turntables. "I want to let you know that I got you a gift for the gift swap so you won't feel left out." Shelly mentioned with eagerness as she plays around with her fingers nervously. "Wow, that's really nice of you!" answered DJ Xtreme. He looked confused as he takes notice of Shelly's nervousness. "Are you feeling ok? Is something bothering you?" DJ Xtreme asked as he presses a button to switch to the next song. "I'm ok. It's just...I've been bottling up these feelings I have inside of me for a long time. I'm afraid I might burst into a million pieces." Shelly explained with a disappointing look. "You should definitely get it off your chest and open up. You might feel better after." DJ Xtreme stated. "I guess you're right. Shelly said as her palms started sweating heavily at the thought of telling DJ Xtreme that she likes him. "Don't be shy at all. You can vent to me, you know. What could go wrong? I promise I wont bite." DJ Xtreme assured Shelly, curious as to what is brewing on her mind. "Well...ok. I've been feeling this way for a while now and...oh, please excuse me, I see one of my employees trying to spike my delicious Christmas punch, again. Frank! You better not put that tequila in my punch!" Shelly yelled as she rushed over to the refreshment table. DJ Xtreme looked disappointed as he turned his attention back to his turntables.

Shelly has grown a crush on him from the first year he performed at her parties. Every time she gets closer to expressing her feelings to him, anxiety takes over and she runs the other way. What Shelly doesn't know is that DJ Xtreme also has a crush on her. This was the moment that he noticed the feelings are mutual between them.

       Shelly grabs the tequila bottle out of Frank's hand right before any could pour out. "Why do you keep spoiling my fun? I've been meaning to tell you, this punch could use a little kick to it." Frank said looking surprised that his boss caught him attempting to spike her punch. "Why must you try to ruin my punch every year? There's nothing wrong with it. My punch tastes perfectly fine. Go make your own personal drink." Shelly responded in frustration. "Actually, that's a great idea! I'll be right back." Frank said as he's turned back to the refreshment table and started making his own personal drink. Shelly shook her head in disbelief, then made her way towards the break room.

          The Jackson 5's 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' was blasting from the speakers. "This soda is hitting the spot, girl. I think I might get another one to take home with me." Martha mentioned right before she took another sip. "You got that right. Now that we have these new vending machines, I'm glad we don't have to be stuck to drinking only Shelly's Christmas punch." Karla responded as she sat down at the break room table. "Speaking of our boss, I saw her talking to the DJ earlier. I think she likes him but looks nervous as heck when she talks to him." Martha stated as she took a sip of her drink. "Oh, wow! I didn't notice that at all.

Maybe we should help her. She could really use a man in her life." Karla responded. "I don't know, Karla. I don't be in other peoples business." Martha said. "What business are we talking about ladies? Wait a minute...why are y'all in the break room sneaking and drinking sodas?!

So, yall too good for my Christmas punch?" Shelly asked in shock as she walked into the break room. "Its not like that, Shelly. We really like your punch, it's just that we think there should be a variety of drinks provided for the party. Some people just like variety, that's all." Martha explained as she thought quick to save her and Karla from upsetting their boss. "Well, I never thought of it that way. You do have a point. Nobody wants to drink the same thing every year. From here on out, there will be different varieties of drinks at our parties." Shelly agreed with a smile on her face as she sat down across from Karla at the break room table. "The DJ really got this place jamming, doesn't he?" Shelly asked as she was staring at DJ Xtreme with a smile. "Don't be afraid, Shelly. Go on over there and talk to him. You know you want him to be your man." Karla stated as she stood up to throw her empty bottle of soda away. "How do you know that I like DJ Xtreme?" Shelly asked with a confused look on her face. "Come on! Anybody can see the way that you stare at him and how you pretty much drool all over him when y'all talk." Karla responded. "I guess you're right. Well, here goes nothing. Wish me luck." Shelly stated as she stood up and started making her way towards the DJ booth.


In a city full of color, there lived the man in black. He always wore a black trench coat over his black button up matching his black pants bonded by his black belt. Needless to say, he wore black dress shoes with black socks. He wasn’t the most sociable person in the world but if you got to know him, he wasn’t a bad person. Every Sunday morning when the clocktower struck 10 times, he would run to the local café and enjoy a black coffee. He would escape the troubles of his week by reading the Sunday paper in as other customers passed by him. They overlooked him as a lonely old man though he was in his early 30’s. Whenever the clock tower nearby struck 13 times: he looked at his black watch, paid his tab, and left without a word. On one rainy Sunday, the man in black entered the café to find it completely deserted. The man in black walked over to his usual spot and ordered his black coffee. About half an hour or so later, the café’s door swung open and in came a woman who was soaked from head to toe. She ripped off her rain jacket revealing a simple white dress matching her white shoes. She walked over and sat at the booth across from the man in black. The man in black lowered his paper to take a quick glance at the rain’s refugee. She had long silky white hair as if she was an old woman, but the pitch of her voice as she ordered a latte told him she was around his age. The man in black went back to reading his paper. After a few minutes, of complete silence, the woman in white looked out across from her booth to the man in black. Though the newspaper blocked her view of the man in black’s face, she could see his smooth combed back hair poking out from the top. The rain was relentless and she had no desire to become a drenched cotton ball. She decided to sit around a bit and tap her figures against the cup in a rhythmic pattern. They sat like this for nearly an hour. “Do you come here often?” asked the woman in white as the man in black set down his paper for a moment to sip his coffee. He looked around to see if she was addressing someone around her, before realizing the two of them were the only ones in the room. “Every Sunday when I can,” replied the man in black as he set down his cup, “Never seem you around, are you new here?” “I just moved into town yesterday,” replied the woman in white, “I just finished school and plan to get a job here in the city color bursts around,” “I wish you the best then,” said the man in black curtly as he went back to his paper. The woman in white wasn’t done with him yet though. She picked up her belongings and moved over to the man in black’s booth. The man black looked up for a moment before continuing to read his paper. The woman in white sighed and pulled out a paper and pencil. When the clock tower rung 14 times, the man in black got up, paid his tab and left without a word. After a week passes, the man in black walks back to his usual café for his usual cup of coffee. But as he slid into his usual booth, his leg touched something beneath the table. “I see that you’ve become accustomed to sitting here,” laughed a familiar voice. The man in black looked up to see the woman in white sitting across from him. In front of her was a pencil and a sketch of the other side of the café. The man in black slowly got up. “I don’t mind sharing the booth,” she said grabbing his hand. The waiter came over with a latte and a black coffee and set them by the table. The man in black sighed, took out his paper and started to read. The woman in white smiled and continued to work on her drawing. After an hour or so, the woman in white looked at the man in black as he sipped his coffee. Like everything he wore, his eyes were also black. He caught her staring and went back to reading. “So, what do you do for a living?” she asked trying to ease the awkwardness. “An office job,” replied the man in black as he flipped to another page. “Well, I can tell that much by the way you dress,” she laughed lowering down the paper, “But what do you do specifically?” “Talk to people about buying things and selling them,” he said before pulling back up his newspaper. “So, you’re a salesman? For what company?” asked the woman in white. “Palette Corp,” he replied still staring into his paper. “The biggest conglomerate in the entire city?! I heard it was started up a few years ago by a wonderkid fresh out of college. What’s he like?” pressed the woman in white. The man in black lowered his paper and shook his head. “He’s not that great,” he said before looking at his watch. The clock tower then rung 16 times and the man in black started to get up to leave. “It’s my dream to speak to him one day and ask for funding for my art studio,” said the woman in white getting up to join him, she showed the man in black her finished drawing. It was a detailed picture of the café booths which sat across from them. For a moment the man in black thought it was a black and white photo. “Maybe,” he said before paying his tab and walking out the door. The next week, the man in black walked into the café to find it packed with people. He found that his usual booth was taken up by an old couple talking about the weather. As he was about to turn around and go home, there sat the woman in white in another booth waving at him; two cups sat in front of her. Reluctantly he sat down and took a sip of his coffee. The woman in white pulled out a binder from her bag and opened it for the man in black to look at. Inside were detailed plans for a building alongside some art piece examples. There were portraits of people in the park, animals in the forest, sailors on a boat, and so much more. The man in black quietly adored the drawings as he flipped through them. If it wasn’t for seeing her draw last week, he would’ve thought they were all black and white photos. “I’ve made an appointment to meet with them in two weeks’ time,” she said watching him stare at the pages. “So, I was wondering, could give me any tips about my presentation to the board of investors?” The man in black thought for a moment and closed the binder. “I wouldn’t recommend seeing them,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. “It isn’t a place for someone like you,” “Please, this is my dream!” begged said the woman in white caressing her binder. “Are my drawings not good enough to be sold?” “No that’s not it,” he said placing down his cup. “I just think that all this effort won’t get you anywhere there,” “Then help me!” said the woman in white picking up his hand. He saw the flare of passion in her eyes; something he hasn’t had for a long time. The man in black freed his hand from her grasp and leaned back into his chair silently. “I see… if you don’t want to help me, I’ll just figure it out myself...” said the woman in white before gathering her things back into her bag. “You’re missing a business plan,” said the man in black softly as she left the booth. She turned around, smiled at him, and sat back down. The man in black took out a pen from his coat pocket and started to write out plans on a napkin. When the clock tower rung 17 times, they left the café agreed to meet next week. That next Sunday, the man in black went to the café almost empty. Alone in his favorite booth sat the woman in white with two cups and a binder. The man in black sat down and looked over her plans. He was impressed by how much of his advice she took and how professional it all looked. Once he was done looking at the plan details for himself, the woman in white practiced her presentation on him. They went at it for hours, with the man in black stopping her at times to ask practice questions and give input on her presentation. When the clocktower rung 18 times, they were both sure that the woman in white’s presentation would land her the deal. As they went out the door of the man in black wished her luck and started to walk back home. The woman in white stopped him and pulled out a small box from her bag and gave it to him. “I wanted to give you this for all your help. I’ll be back at the café after my meeting next Sunday, I want you to be the first to hear about the results,” she said before waving goodbye and walking off. When the man in black got home, he opened the box to find a drawing of him reading his newspaper at the café. If any normal person were to see the drawing, they would just be a photograph of the man in black on any normal Sunday. He placed the picture on his mural and saw that there was something else in the box.The day of the meeting the woman in white walked into the meeting room of Palette Corp. to find various men in women seated around a large circular table. They all dressed the same way the man in black did, but in different bright shades of color which almost looked like a rainbow. She felt nervous but knew this was her chance to prove the world what she could do. When she walked to the front of the room, the room fell silent and she began to present… The man in black as usual went to the café like he normally did. When he was seated in his usual booth, the waiter brought over his black coffee and hesitated for a moment. The man in black has been a loyal patron to the café for years so all the staff knew who he was. But in all years which he came, he always wore the same thing. But to the waiter’s surprise: there below his neck was a white tie… When the clock struck 20 times, the man in black walked out of the café and looked to the sky. This was the first time for him to ever see the night sky from the café’s front door. He wondered how the woman in white did with her presentation. The next Sunday, to his surprise the man in black found the woman in white waiting by the front door of the café. She greeted him quietly before they entered together and sat at his usual spot. They sat in silence for a few moments before she cleared her throat, “First I’m sorry for not meeting with you like I promised after the meeting. They liked the presentation and made me an offer,” smiled the woman in white. A single tear rolled down her cheeks, then another. The man in black said nothing and waited patiently as the woman in white looked down to the ground. “I-I had to turn them down. They wanted me to add all these things to make it seem more marketable and I couldn’t accept it! I’m sorry for wasting your time, but I can’t let them paint all over me!” she cried before looking back up. She saw that the man in black was wearing the tie she had got for him. The man in black ordered her a latte and a black coffee for himself and they sat in silence until the clock tower rung 13 times. When the woman in white walked to the café the next week, she was surprised to see the man in black was already in his booth reading the paper. Beside him was a suitcase and two cups on the table. When she sat down, the man in black put down his paper and opened the suitcase onto the table inside was a copy of the woman in white’s plans and all the money she asked for. She was completely speechless. “I’ve been looking for a reason to sell all my shares of the company to those greedy board members,” he said before closing the case. The woman in white was speechless. The man in black went back to reading his paper. 10 years later, the man in black stopped by the café like always on a Sunday. When he walked over to his booth, there sat the women in white drawing for another commission with 3 cups on the table. The man in black sat down and felt something touch is leg. He looked under to find a little girl wearing a grey dress pulling at his leg. The girl in grey.


Sipping their cup of tea, they looked up as they heard a loud rumble outside. It sounded... different than the thunder. It sounded deeper, more like it came from the earth itself. They slowly stood up, carefully placing their cup next to them, feeling confusion and curiosity rising from within them. Forgetting to put anything able to withstand the rain on, they walked outside into the streaming rain, barefoot, their long garments dancing behind them, carried upwards by the winds. Without looking behind them, they slowly walked into the woods, ignoring the rain trying its best to warn them. They kept on walking, slowly, gracefully, nearly looking like someone of royalty. They felt how their hair swooshed around them, in all directions, but they paid no mind to it. They kept walking, elegantly stepping over fallen branches, and entire logs. Deeper inside the woods, the rain lessened, but the wind continued to push around them. They were able to concentrate on the sounds. The leaves being blown around, and raindrops still falling towards the ground, being slowed by the plants and moss covering every free surface. They inhaled deeply, smelling the crisp air that always hangs in the air during rainfall. They smelt the greenery, but there was an underlying scent. It smelt... ancient. There was no other word to describe it. It smelt like deep caverns, like plants, slowly decaying. It smelt kind of sweet, but at the same time very clean. Their curiosity now piqued, they walked further, paying no attention to the path they were taking becoming wilder and wilder, filled with more plants with every step they took. They didn’t stumble, how, was beyond them. The light kept fading more the deeper they walked into the woods. But suddenly, the light became brighter again. When they looked as to why, they saw it. Thousands of mushrooms, glowing a soft yellow light. When they looked further along the trail, the glow became more intense. They suddenly heard the low rumble again, but this time it was so loud, it became too much for them. They covered their ears quickly, squeezing their eyes nearly shut. When the rumbling stopped, they started walking again, picking up their pace. They hurried along the trail, their heart thundering in their chest. Then, they came to a sudden halt. They saw a giant beast, illuminated by the soft glow of the mushrooms. It looked like it had the colour of moss, ranging from a deep green to a muddy brown. They took a step back in amazement, when the giant creature slowly looked their way. Big yellow eyes slowly slid over them, taking up every inch. They couldn’t see any pupils, sending a shiver up their spine. Slowly, the creature spread its wings, making it seem even taller. By doing so, it revealed that it had all sorts of plants and mushrooms growing over its body, making it seem like it had been in a slumber for thousands of years.


She was a woman of substance, a pretty looking, admired by all, a flawless beauty, a special person who stood out in a crowd of thousands. A noble being from her childhood was a bit shy and had all the features of a perfect woman. The best a man could’ve got to be a life partner. Her motto was doing good to others and lending a helping hand to the needy. She had a whole lot of followers who admired her for her beauty and her goodness. She was a woman of character, an untarnished life, un- perturbed by any external influence. She was a special woman who was too good to live in this world of rotten beings. But she survived because of her noble deeds. Anaida Craig was the one which every girl would’ve longed to become. Everything was going smooth in Anaida’s life. She was a good entrepruner, hailed a textile business and a school for costume designing. At a very young age she was awarded as the woman of the year. But things were not the same as she had expected. She hadn’t even dreamt that her life would be in turmoil and she would face many atrocities by the society. Anaida was a busy woman and she wanted a capable person to assist her in finance. An advertisement was put up for a Chief accounts head to run the show. Many were interviewed and three were selected for the final round. Ruth won the race among the three; he was the one who cleared all the tests with flying colours. A handsome looking youth Ruth was the centre of attraction in the office. He was admired by everyone especially the lady staff because of his dashing looks. Though Anaida was engrossed in her busy schedule, she always kept an eye on her employees. She just wanted a clean atmosphere in her workplace. His entry had changed the whole scenario. He was always surrounded by women. His flamboyant approach attracted many. Anaida was annoyed by the sudden change in the mannerisms of her staff. She had maintained a complete decorum and discipline in her office. This changed atmosphere was unacceptable by Anaida. She was a workaholic and her goal was to reach heights in her textile business and also make fame in the world of fashion. Though Anaida was strict in her behaviour she was very attached to her employees. She saw to it that her employees were given every benefit that they could afford. But today was something different, her staff were women in a major portion and his entry was like a bee running around flowers. “Hi, Anaida, Ruth exclaimed, “Oh God, Take a break from your work, how much do you slog every day, you have put up a huge threshold to you business and your fashion school is simply superb. And your accounts have boosted up, then why do you overstress, just take a chill pill and relax” Ruth came close to Anaida and started leaning on her, he came very close to her, with a heavy breath he said, “You are so beautiful, your looks, they kill me “. Anaida was completely flabbergasted by his sudden approach. But she didn’t lose her cool. She just got up and said, “Mr. Ruth , behave yourself , How dare you come close to me and behave like this, Look here I am not that kind of a woman , who would fall for handsome guys. So I think instead of wasting my time and yours you can just get back to work.” “And one more thing, Mr. Ruth I 'am your boss and you are my subordinate, so please don’t barge into my cabin without my permission” “Close the door Ruth was taken aback, he had never expected this. He just went out of her cabin without uttering a word.  This was the first time that his looks and charm was ignored by a girl. He felt that he was humiliated; a sense of rejection by a woman triggered his male ego. But he didn’t react; he didn’t show his anger on his face. “Sorry Ma’m I forgot my cadre and wanted to make friends with the queen. I’m sorry for my behaviour”. “You have to be, now please just leave me alone and do your job, don’t you ever try to trespass again”. He just barged out of the room with red shot eyes. Ruth had stopped annoying Anaida, after the incident. Though Anaida heaved a sigh, she felt she was missing something. After all she was a young woman who felt the need of a partner in her life. She was just observing him day and night, she felt the sudden change in his character, he was always engrossed in his work and made others to work who were clinging always clinging to him. Days passed the office atmosphere was normal, every other staff was busy in organising the grand event sponsored by Anaida fashions. Her school was ready to make a mark in the world of fashion. It was a huge opportunity to show the fashion world the creative extravaganza of Anaida Fashions. Anaida and Ruth were discussing the financial expenditure for the mammoth show. In the meantime they had to meet now and then to discuss terms; this triggered an emotional binding between the duo. They got along with each other and within a short time their physical intimacy brought them together. Anaida was a woman of character, these things were new to her, but she had always longed for a partner for life. She was excited to announce the relationship with Ruth; she wanted a life time commitment with him. She was planning something big; she wanted to disclose her engagement with Ruth on the day of fashion show. She arranged everything, but there was something shocking awaiting her, that she had never expected. The d day arrived, the fashion show was a super hit Anaida fashions rocked the world of fashion with its new creations. At the end Anaida walked along with the other models she was beaming with pride about her success, but her success didn’t last long the gown she wore tore up and fell down, she was humiliated in public. The crew wrapped her in a blanket and moved her inside. Anaida was shocked; she had never ever expected this. She was crying a woman of substance was stripped in front of many. This was a most disgusting incident which shamed a woman in public. Anaida couldn’t handle this shameful episode which defamed her. The next day was more disastrous, the paparazzi had knocked on her doors, and the intimate relation with Ruth was exposed without any hint. Anaida was in a shock, she was completely shattered and tarnished. He life was in dismay; the ruthless cheap tricks tarnished a woman’s life forever.   She was being targeted to bring her down to the streets for no wrong of hers. Her only mistake was she fell in love with a wrong man who was a cheapster; his male ego ruined a woman’s life forever. He had tarnished her character defamed her to ruin her life. The society laughed at her. She was mocked by one and all. Jealousy had struck her life like hell. She was a victim of jealousy. Though Anaida was a shattered soul, she took the incident with an optimistic approach; she handed over her business and her fashion school to her close friend Sara who was always with her as a moral support. Though she felt doomed she didn’t give up. She just hibernated for a few years; the society took it as a mockery and called her a coward. Anaida took some time to revive back. Today the whole world is admired by her; she is being honoured for her noble deeds, the woman who helped destitute women who were pushed to human trafficking. She rocked the fashion world with a difference. A dress with a cause was a major hit in the textile market. She regained her flawless beauty.


it’s hard to put your finger on it, but it’s there. a persistent thrumming, wet and alive like a heart, like the blood that fills your ears and your veins. it’s something close to crying--a slow, all-consuming loneliness. you are twenty-three and have never been kissed. your mom calls every thursday. the routine of it all makes you ill; you answer her, bored, and fake like you’re about to leave for work every time. your mom sees through the lie, you hear the hurt in her voice, end up crying on your bed for an hour thinking about the lunch box she bought you in fourth grade. the soft canvas, torn in places like a dog’s ear. you wonder where it is now. your roomates tell you to kill the spider. the loneliness comes in waves. it builds like wax around your ribs, coating your insides in a perfect cast. it is a candle with two wicks, each burning beneath the other. you think it would be gone if you moved to another city. you daydream on the freeway about turning in your two week’s notice, fucking off to france or florida. you haven’t had any friends since high school, and thinking that you might be one of the dipshits who peaked at eighteen thoroughly depresses you. you resolve to get closer to your coworker, but then you find out she makes lasagna in the microwave every day, leaving sauce spatters in her wake and never bothering with a paper towel. this is the last straw. you feel a snake coil into your esophagus; it spits bile like venom from your teeth and your body makes up its mind. you spit up your coffee onto the cold breakroom tile and watch the puddle inch like a slug around your feet. no one is there; your coworker has returned to her seat, leaving only smears of tomato and the heavy smell of cooking cheese in the air. that’s what did it. you pick up the roll of paper towels, use it to mop up the spill. the whole roll--not just a sheet. you roll it like a sodden bowling ball over the remains of your breakfast, drop it into the garbage like a hawk dropping prey. you should call your mom. that night on your bed, you sit on a blank mattress. your sheets in the wash, your bags packed, locked into the trunk of your roommate’s hatchback. you wonder if you’ll really just steal their car; if you’ll drive back in the morning, drunk and sobbing. where will you go? gentle snoring emanates from the room across the hall. the loneliness holds its breath. you get up, walk softly across the apartment, and out into the night. the door creaks when you shut it behind you. you check the time: 4:58. it is near dawn. the city will rise soon, the sun will stretch its arms over the pale new day. but for now, it is dark. stars are strewn like salt crystals across the murky sky. you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold in the night, the dark, the cool humid air. you are trying to smother the loneliness in your body, to squeeze it out through your pores. you stare into the trees. you have a sudden urge to walk into them, into the forest, thick moss covered ground. you want to know what lies ahead.


Trigger warnings: guns, poor mental health, mentions of past bullying, swearing. * People wouldn't underestimate me any more unless I wore a sign with a list of suggestions as to how they might manage the task. Part of it was how I looked, most of which I honestly couldn't help. If you googled the term " femboy " someone has probably posted my picture with it. People liked to use words like " slender " and " willowy ", but my penchant for fishnets and heels quickly got me dubbed a " trap " and a " disappointment to my parents". I was considered tall for my lineage at 5'6" but was always much shorter than my peers in school. That tends to happen when you're a freaky Japanese genius kid who skips grades. People also tend to bully you or shun you. I prefer shunning, honestly. Oh well, I thought to myself. You're 19. If you survive this you still might shoot up a few inches. And then I laughed to myself about using the word ' shoot' in this situation. * If I'm honest, as a child prodigy in a public school, I had to make the best of my situation. And that meant tutoring other students –preferably the ones who looked like future Yakuza, but I tutored a lot of gay kids and half the jocks as well. It was the junior Yakuza that were most important though. People stop fucking with the weird kid after the scrappy rough kid shoves them into a locker. So when my boss pointed a semiautomatic handgun in my face, it never even occurred to me that I should be intimidated. Daiki, my ex, had always told me that running my mouth would get me in trouble. Usually, he was rolling his eyes at something I said. But this was fucking ridiculous. Jerome Stone had decided he did not like me the moment they hired me. It didn't help that I was half his age and fresh out of college. Or Harlan Leeland, the CEO and primary owner of the company, thought I was the best thing since sliced bread. Mostly because I caught a teeny, tiny error that saved him thousands of dollars. It was sort of a shame. He was a blonde with pale blue eyes that could freeze you out like a glacier or melt you into his tight family unit. The rest of the department adored him and chattered about him constantly. I stuck out like a sore thumb in Accounting because he didn't talk to me unless absolutely necessary and he treated me as coldly as he could. Still. Where in the nine hells had this absolute nerd gotten his hands on a gun –let alone bullets? "Maybe you will think twice about putting your hands on another man's husband." His icy tone trembled. Oh, Vishnu . This was all about that slimy piece of shit? That man wasn't worth Jerome's time. Or mine. I had dated more than my fair share of unsavory trash, so I was an expert, and boy did he set off alarm bells. At some point, I should be too afraid to argue with this man, my boss, who was holding a gun on me –right? Wrong. Mostly because I was more enraged than anything by the situation. This . This shit right here was what happened when you became a doormat and put everyone else's wishes first. I hadn't even wanted to go into accounting. I had wanted to reach further, try harder, make something of myself. But my parents had insisted My parents hadn't approved of my friends, so I lost my ragtag family that had been my shelter and protection. My parents wouldn't understand what I am so I stayed their cute little smart gay son. Because what I really was, well that was scarier still and at least they could work gay to their advantage. I gave up so much to please people who couldn't be pleased, who should have been able to love me without conditions. Maybe in another life, I could have all the things I had wanted. I just had to survive this first. I remembered what my friend Kenji used to say with a grin after he helped bail me out of some stupid situation in high school. " Haru, your mouth is dangerous. Have you ever considered not antagonizing people?" So I opened my mouth and let myself make the situation a bit more dangerous. "There's so much wrong with that I am not sure where to even start. Your husband came on to me and if Sherri Linn from Marketing hadn't been there, he probably thought he wouldn't have to take 'no' as an answer." Which actually wouldn't have phased me much.  My looks made me seem like easy prey but the knife I carried because it was habit, like my true self, was easily concealed. The trembling became more pronounced as he spat out words. "You're lying, Haruhiko." It saddened me how desperately he wanted to believe it. It saddened me more that I had to be the one to correct him. "Elias is very much not my type." He was a dominant, overbearing asshole, if I wanted to be honest. What in the hell Jerome thought was so great about him I would never know. He surely wasn't the sort of man Dolly begged Jolene not to take! I had to be aware of how people looked at me all the time, the assumptions they would make based on the way my body was built. It was more amusing because they were wrong . Jerome, with his soft giving personality and submissive side, was much more my type despite being twice my age. Then again, being twice my age made him 38. I could work with that. Tears began to well up in his eyes. I felt responsible for those tears, even though the real culprit was none other than his own husband. I gestured to the gun being pointed at my face. Well, now it sort of lagged towards my shoulder. "Do you even know how to use that? Your favorite pastime is Pokemon Go." As his brain sort of froze, trying to process my question, I wrapped my hand around the gun and pulled it from his grasp. It was less than two minute process to pull the clip and strip the gun. Fuck, I needed to go back to hanging out with a better class of criminal. "You didn't even turn off the safety. What did you think you were going to do, dumbass?" He blinked at me mutely, as though he had lost his voice when all the fight had leached out of him. "Right then. I'm going to offer you a little free advice: divorce that sack of shit and find someone who will give a damn about you. And, since you're not going to fire me, I quit. Effective immediately," I informed him serenely. And then I walked out of his office, out of the department and back into the lobby. It was just my shitty luck that Elias happened to be coming in. It was his shitty luck that I packed a mean punch and had nothing left to lose. It appeared he had somewhere between two and five teeth to lose, which should not have been nearly as satisfying as it was. "I'll press charges, Haruhiko Yamada!" He bellowed as I sauntered away. "You do that and I will fuck your husband," I return, before disappearing into the crowd of people and off onto the street. * A week later, I received a letter from Leeland Advertising –my now former employer. Here we go. Probably some sort of lawsuit or something I needed to pay back because of some contract I signed as a naive child. I opened it slowly. In it, there was a document detailing a generous severance package as well as a check cut for all of my accumulated vacation time. as I slid them back into the envelope, a pale blue sticky note fluttered to the floor. "Thank you." It read, in a neat efficient penmanship I knew very well. He had signed it with a "J" but I would have known his handwriting anyway I couldn't help but smile. Now both of us had a chance at new lives.


[This story includes gay romance.] The long black hand on the living room clock crawled, marking time as it marched past the minutes. Eddy didn’t think he’d ever seen it move this slow. Funny thing, though…hands on a clock in any of his classes seemed to race around when he took a test. He waited for the hand to set off chimes in the old grandfather clock, sitting sentry over the living room. Eddy knew it was safe to talk on the phone in here. Neither his mother nor father entered this room on any regular basis. The furniture here was formal, unfaded, and a bit stiff. But Eddy thought it was the neatest room in the house. It had the clock, for one thing, and a fireplace that was rarely lit. Despite all that, Eddy felt like ‘Lord of the Manor’ when he took a seat in the highbacked chair. It fit his body perfectly, and though he was nervous as hell right now, he felt safe, surrounded by the elegance of the room. Eddy felt like his enthusiasm would make him burst before the dulcet chimes, but when he thought he’d reached his limit, seven chimes struck the hour. Finally, it was time. His cell phone never seemed this heavy. Shaking hands scrolled through the contacts looking for Tom’s name. When he found it, he took a deep breath before hitting the green phone icon. “Hey! You called. I’m glad. I was afraid you’d lose your nerve.” Eddy tried to keep his voice even. “No, I didn’t lose anything. I just want to talk to someone who might understand me.” “Oh. It’s that bad for you?” “Well, last night, I came out to my parents. My father didn’t take it well at all.” “What did your mom do? Moms almost always know, you know.” “Really? I didn’t think my mom had a clue, but now that you say it, she didn’t seem surprised. She just wanted to know how I was doing, and my father kind of phased out of the conversation.” “Dads can be tough. So…you just needed another gay guy to talk to? I thought…” “Well, yeah, I needed someone who would understand this stuff, but I wanted to talk to you because I think you’re…” Eddy searched his thoughts for the right word. He couldn’t blow this. But how could he tell Tom how he felt without sounding too gushy? “I just wanted to talk to you because I, uh, like you.” Silence. Eddy sat in the awesome chair, but he didn’t feel like the Lord of the Manor anymore. He felt defeated, deflated, and embarrassed. “Tom?” Finally, a noise. It sounded like a sniffle. Is he crying? Eddy stared at the ground. Should he say something? Or would that make the situation worse? Should he offer words of comfort? Should he start crying in solidarity? Finally, Tom spoke in a blubbery voice. “This is all my fault.” Eddy felt confused. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand…your fault?” “All this crying and sniveling. I know you’re over there a bit freaked out, right? But, you see, I can’t believe it. You like me, and you admitted it. No one does that anymore. Everyone is so afraid that their feelings may be hurt, or they are too afraid to tie themselves down to one person. I’ve been lonely out here. The world is cold for most people, but for gay men who are looking for love and acceptance, well, it’s downright frigid. You have absolutely no idea how happy you’ve made me.” The large lump at the base of Eddy’s throat slipped like Tom just paved the way with honey. The tension in his shoulders eased away. He wasn’t tired or defeated anymore. Those feelings left, allowing joy and jubilation into his world. “I make you that happy?” "Why don't I come over? I think this is a conversation we need to have in person. Would your parents be cool if I showed up?" Eddy knew he wanted to see Tom and hold him close. "Well, dinner is over, and everyone's scattered through the house. I don't think it will be a problem. Just drive carefully 'cause I don't want anything to happen to you. You are way too important." Tom's sob answered those words and then, "I'll be there in about fifteen minutes." With a full heart, Eddy went to the kitchen to find something for him and Tom to munch on. ** When the doorbell rang, Eddy’s dad beat him to the door. “Who are you? And what do you want? We’re not buying anything if that’s what you're here for.” “No, sir. I’m here to see Eddy.” Eddy walked up behind his dad to greet Tom. He felt the scorn in his dad’s voice as he begrudgingly waved Tom in the door. Dad turned to yell for him, but when he saw Eddy, the shout shriveled in his throat. “Oh, you’re there. I guess you already know your ‘friend’ is here.” “Hi, Tom. Please come in. Thirsty?” Eddy tried to avoid his dad’s gaze. He couldn’t completely ignore the smoldering eyes, but he forgot all about it when his eyes met Tom’s. After pulling a few sodas from the refrigerator, both boys entered the living room. Eddy watched Tom’s reaction to the room closely. He hoped Tom would appreciate it and understand why he loved it so much. “Cool room. I love the furniture,” he said. And then his gaze fell on Eddy’s chair. “I bet you love that chair. It looks like it’d be the perfect place to dream or read or just think.” “You’ve got that right,” Eddy said. His voice was full of emotion, and his heart thumped against his chest. He could feel the rhythm in his ears, and he just wanted to be close to Tom. “Hey, wanna see my room?” “Sure. That sounds like a great idea.” Tom smiled widely at Eddy’s suggestion. They head upstairs quietly, and Eddy only hopes his father was deeply involved in one of his cop shows. Too involved to hear their tread. As soon as the door was shut, the boys stood close together. Heat came off them in waves, and Eddy could only hope they’d control themselves. Tom looked deep into Eddy’s eyes as he came close. He ran his fingers slowly up the curve of Eddy’s face with his eyes closed like a blind man memorizing the shape of a beloved’s face. “Yes, sweetie. You make me that happy and so much more. We should celebrate that we found one another so early in our lives. We will not have to live like the pathetic gay men who slip from one relationship to another, always feeling like something is missing. Always hurting deep down, and even afraid.” “Afraid?” “Eddy, we have something special. We understand one another. We really love one another. This isn’t about some quick romp in the sack or a cheap hook-up. This is about building a real relationship and planning a real future together. We may be young, but we complement one another, and…I refuse to let someone like you go.” The silence both young men heard now was one of solidarity. No one was speaking because they were each absorbing the truth. They were lucky. They’d found one another early. Their lives would be more prosperous than most gay men’s. And they would build a life together. Tom broke the silence. “So, I heard you playing some Billy Joel as I got here. You like 80s music too? My mom played the best stuff, and her era was the 70s and 80s, and though few of my friends understand, I’m pretty sure you will. The boys spoke in unison, “Music is the song of the soul’s heart.” “Did you read that on Facebook?” “Yup – you, too?” “I loved it so much that I hit Love, and then I shared it with everyone. It saddened me to see how many folks didn’t recognize the importance of the post. Maybe if they’d paid real attention, they could evaluate the importance of music in their lives.” “Oh well. We no longer have to worry about those poor unfortunate folks – we can listen to the music we love and let it soothe away those long days and prepare us for some long nights,” Tom said as he shot Eddy a smoldering gaze. Eddy was happier than he’d ever been; he went into Tom’s arms for a long, languorous kiss. It felt like home. Until there was a rapid knocking on his door. “Just what are you two up to in there?” Dad’s angry voice reverberated through the room. …to be continued


I’m not going to go into details of *how* I became homeless because that’s still a part of my life I’m trying to understand. The most important thing you need to know is that I am no longer homeless. The following is a small glimpse into how life was for me as a homeless man in the UK. It is all truth, par a few names of people that have been changed because they may still face issues in their job for what they did to assist me. Little intro over. In late June of 2015, I was declared as an emergency homeless person. This label was given by a psychiatrist and an independent evaluator from my local council. I was deemed “high importance” because of my hospitalising suicide attempts in the past. I was under the impression this would mean I’d spend little time on the streets. I was wrong. For the first three weeks of my time on the streets, I was in one of the safest places I could be. An area that had foot patrols of police, security, and local Homelessness Support Officers. It was in-front of about a dozen shops, all of whom had external CCTV cameras. To give you an idea, this is the area and this is where I slept (the bench with a backrest) I was told by the night security for this area that I was permitted here from 9pm until 5am. At 5am, the day manager would begin his shift and he didn’t like homeless people. During the three weeks I was sleeping there, I had a few occurrences that surprised me. The first was that on my first night, a German business man from out of town paid for me to stay in a local hotel, including a full breakfast the next morning. This was a massive shock. He even helped me to the hotel with my bags and things I had. I was even more shocked when I saw the amount he paid for a total stranger to spend a night in warmth. The total bill, including late booking was £106.50. For one night. The second nice surprise came that next morning. The manager asked about the gentleman that accompanied me to the hotel and I nervously explained my current housing situation. Once I did, I went and had breakfast. I stayed in the room until mid-day, as that was when I needed to hand the key back and leave. As I handed my key back, the manager gave me a carrier bag with numerous contents. Inside was a Pillow (branded, but still very comfortable) and some milk cartons (UHT), coffee sachets, and sugar sachets. My day then became quite repetitive. Because I couldn’t stay sat in the Malls area during the day, even if I was awake, I decided for a few days to just slowly walk around town, sitting down occasionally. After a while though, and I’d get very hungry. I knew that begging in the town centre was against the law and that the CCTV network in the town would detect it instantly so vowed to never beg. And I can proudly say I never once asked for anything (unless offered, such as “would you like a tea or a coffee”). So my second day became one that I stuck to for almost the whole time I was sleeping at The Malls. At 5am, I would hobble along, through The Malls, through Festival Place, and then up to the “top of town”, and sit on a bench that was opposite a Greggs Bakery. I only chose there because at 9am most days, the sun would hit my face and wake me up properly. I decided to stay there because of how people were at the earlier hours in the morning. So I would set myself up. My biggest bag that had mostly sentimental things in I would put right next to me, my hand holding onto a strap. I then lay my bedding cover over my legs and tuck them in to reduce the draft. I then cover the bag and zip my coat up. I was snug and relatively warm. But then again, it was in the summer. So this is what I would see most mornings. I can’t find a shot that accurately represents my location, but hope this will do . It was really difficult to control my stomach noises when you can smell things being baked nearby. But then sitting where I was seemed to attract a bit of attention to me. I would often fall asleep for a moment or two, only to wake up when I heard footsteps (this became very useful at night, because if someone is approaching me, I would wake up faster due to a tad bit of fear). I would sometimes wake up when someone asked if I was okay, but because I was mostly tired and also didn’t want to be accused of begging, all I’d say was “a bit cold, but okay”. While for most people, that was enough and they’d be on their way, a short handful of people would proceed into Greggs to buy me something hot, be that some pastry, soup or a drink. After a few days, one of the people who closed up Greggs at 4pm began to bring out cold food that was supposed to have been thrown away at the end of the day. I was massively grateful to him, because he was essentially stealing. When I found out a few weeks later that he had been sacked, I felt really bad because I thought it was my sitting there that had caused it, but he told me that he had already started at another workplace and was looking for a way to leave Greggs as fast as possible. This became the norm for a while, occasionally a Police Community Support Officer would approach me, take my name, date of birth and ask a few things like where I was sleeping and if I was registered with the local council as homeless. Once I gave the required details, they’d leave. After a while, I noticed it was the same group on duty so it rarely happened after that. When the local council cleaner came around, which happened between 10 and 12 each morning, I would ask if he could take my rubbish from me. This was in part due to laziness. I had gotten comfortable on a wet, wooden bench and didn’t want to have to disrupt it. However the cleaner was happy to, saying that he’d rather me ask, than just leave it. I began to become acquainted with the routine and schedule of the council cleaning crew, and knew that if I did have rubbish, the morning collections were 6am, 10-12, then the evening collection was at 6pm. I also learned on my first Wednesday, that the bench was a bad place to try to get a couple hours of shut eye. Wednesdays and Saturdays were “Market Days”. Hearing burger sellers yelling “Beef burger, sausage roll, bacon butty, a pound” over and over again kept me awake and hungry. On the second market day, a local merchant was in need of someone to watch his stall while he popped to the bank. I was happy to, given that his stall was literally next to my bench (and yes, I had come to call it mine). I sat for a few minutes before he returned. He said the queue was too long in the bank for him to be away from his stall. I then offered to help him. He was, expectantly, sceptical at first, but when I told him I’d leave my bags with him, he agreed. I was given the paying in slip and money and went to the bank. When I returned with the stamped stub, he handed me a £5 note and thanked me. For three weeks in a row, I took his earnings to the bank, but it stopped when he stopped making as much. So I don’t want to bore you by giving a day by day blow of what happened because there was a LOT of repetition. It was basically a case of wake, walk, sit, wake, eat, walk, sit, sleep. I was always respectful towards the areas I sat and slept in, and I think that’s why I was allowed there for as long as I was. However, The Malls was a council owned property, with private contracted security. A new supervisor started. He didn’t like people sleeping inside at night. I felt a lot of anger and upset, but it was wrong of me to do so. It’s not a bed, it’s a bench. Yeah, it was under cover, so it was dry. Given the drafts of wind that would come in, it was difficult to sleep, but when I did sleep, I slept well. I always woke at 4am, and woke up a bit before moving on. I was never woken up by their staff (except the first night because I didn’t know what time to be awake for). Nights became eventful before the new supervisor. I would have people bring me food from the KFC opposite my “bed” and sometimes the manager at the Costa Coffee nearby would bring me a coffee when she closed up if I was around. But when the new supervisor came in, I was ejected. So I slept on a bench a few hundred metres from the train station. The PCSO’s had informed me it was okay to be there because it wasn’t on train station property and wasn’t on The Malls property, but every morning at 3am, British Transport Police would wake me, and ask what I was doing. After a while, I’d say “Sleeping” and then just go back to sleep. They’d wake me every hour until I left. I decided to find somewhere else, not just because of that, but also because the bench was metal, and as the air temperature dropped, so did the metal temperature. I woke up feeling colder than ever some mornings. So between August and October of 2015, I had no “fixed” sleeping spot. I slept anywhere I could, for as long as I could, and would often be woken up by either the police, or council workers. In October, I found a new, better place to sleep. I was sat on some steps outside Festival Place (the enclosed shopping centre) that is a designated smoking area, and decided to sleep there, sat upright. After the first night undisturbed, I continued until the Site Manager approached me. Before he could say anything, I said to him “I guess this is the part where you ask me to move on?” Having slept there for almost a week now, I had assumed I was safe to do so. But alas, even in what appear to be the darker times, surprises still exist. He informed me that it was private property, which got me thinking the police were on their way, but he told me I was permitted to sleep there between 8pm and 8am. He handed me a sleeping bag and roll matt that the Security Staff had all pitched in to get me. He told me that there was a hot water pipe under the third step up that kicked in around 3am, and I’d feel the heat if laying down. So that night, I set up my sentimental bag as my pillow, the Hotel pillow on top, and then I got into the sleeping bag. It was very difficult to get warm, but once I was, I fell asleep instantly. At 7am, I was woken up, but not by a member of security. It was by a road sweeper. Noisy fuckers, but a good alarm clock. I was gone before 8am came around, back up to near Greggs. The best thing is that the bed spot was around 500m from the bench. After a week outside Greggs and sleeping in the new spot, I finally was asked to move on from the bench. Apparently there were a lot of complaints. Thankfully, the police gave me this information in the evening. I collected my stuff, and because it was still cold, I went into the Subway that was in-between my bed and the bench. I had enough money to buy a hot chocolate, but unfortunately, they had already turned the machine off. When the “Sandwich artist” asked about the bags, I explained my situation. For the first time in my life, I had a Subway Sub. It was the best food I had had in a very long time. Better still considering it was free. I spent almost 2 hours in the store, talking to him, and keeping warm. After that, I vowed to go back whenever I could, mostly for the warmth. And that became a habit. I’d sleep on the private property of the shopping centre, and spend my evenings in Subway. But one morning, I woke up at 7am, soaked through. It had started to rain heavily. Hastily I packed my bedding up and went into the Subway. They had only just opened up and the morning staff member was in. She didn’t know much about me, except what the night staff member had said. She said I could sit in the store if I wanted, so long as I made one purchase. Each day, I’d buy a cookie. The staff got to know me more and more, and let me have a small plastic unbranded cup to fill with a drink from the drink machine. I didn’t abuse it, but if I was thirsty, would fill the cup and then just go back to my seat. I read my way through a book but began to feel tired. I drifted to sleep sat in Subway and fully expected to be woken up by the police or the store manager, but no. I slept through until around 3pm from 8am and only got disturbed around 12:30 when the local college came in for lunch. Just noise, not actual disturbing. Occasionally, I’d wake up and see things that have been put on the small table next to me, often from the staff but I once woke up around 1pm to a guy sat next to me reading a newspaper. Once he saw I was awake, he offered to buy me some lunch. Given that my food for each day was essentially a cookie and maybe a bag of crisps (chips for American folk), I said yes. He said I could have any sub I wanted, but I didn’t want to push it so just had a small one. Nothing special. As Christmas loomed closer, the nights in town became more active. A local nightclub owner saw me one night, and then every Friday and Saturday night for my time sleeping where I was, he would bring a cup of tea and some biscuits to me as they locked up. Fridays it’d be around 1am, and Saturdays, it was closer to 4am sometimes. The drunk people walking past, were amusing to me. At first I was worried I’d wake to one pissing on me, or something, but most would talk to me if I was awake. I would often awake after a night that clubs were open and find a few bits of change next to my pillow. It paid for my breakfast and sometimes if I was left with enough, I’d get a burger or something from elsewhere in the town centre. And then, in December of 2015, I got the news I was hoping for. Twice a week I’d go to the local council and ask if anything had come up. It took the best part of six months, but they had finally secured me a room in a shared accommodation building. It’s where I write this, and where I’ll probably be for a little while, but it’s better than being homeless. The purpose of this story was not to hoard karma or up-votes or whatever, but was to purely shed light on what I remember most about being homeless. It is 100% true. If you have any further questions about my time, feel free to drop me a message to my inbox.


It’s a brisk, bright morning at the pond. The chilly breeze ripples the water as I stand in the dampened sand looking at your memorial. The flowers and teddy bears that mobbed your smiling picture aren’t nearly as abundant as they were three years ago. Remnants of shriveled carnations lay at the base of the picture frame. I see your father bring one every time he trudges down the hill to visit you. It gets harder for him every time he comes here. Yes, it's a beautiful day today. Serene. Much like that day three years ago, when they found your battered, lifeless body twisted across the same sand I’m standing in right now. I close my eyes and allow myself to get nostalgic. I think back to when I first saw you working the counter at the Coffee Barn. I ordered the cinnamon coffee with cream and after I took a sip, I told you it was the best cup of coffee I have ever had. You smiled a smile so genuine, there’s no way you could have faked it. In that moment, I knew we should be together and the only regret I have is that our paths didn’t cross sooner. I’m not ashamed to say how disappointed I was when you left me to study abroad. I tried to move on, but when you came back home to me, I decided we would give it another chance. You settled in and took a job as a lifeguard at this pond. Oh, how you loved it here. You enjoyed watching the kids splash around and even joined in their games of Marco Polo. They adored how sweet and playful you were. We all did. Something seemed different though. You seemed distant and I felt unnoticed. Our last night together in the car on the way to the motel, I tried my best to be what you wanted. I went out of my way to cheer you up with gummy worms and 90’s music - two of your favorite things. We hit the highway fast and hard, weaving around other cars, outlandishly singing along to the radio. It took some convincing, but you begrudgingly joined in. The traffic thinned out, the bustling strip disappeared in the rear-view and tears began to form in your eyes. By the time we got to the room you were crying, telling me you were ready to leave. I cradled your head on my chest. “You need to just let me go,” you sobbed. I gently pushed the tears off your cheeks with my thumbs and told you everything would be okay. That seemed to upset you more. You couldn’t even appreciate the little things I did to try to make you feel better and so I called you selfish and told you I would drive you home. That’s when I knew it would never work. That’s when I first got that feeling. “Did you know her?” The words, and realization, that I’m no longer alone knock me from my slumber and instantly bring me back to the present. I turn towards the wounded, quivering voice to see the familiar man holding a single carnation. He’s worn and breathing heavily from the walk down the hill. My god he’s aged like a dog since I’ve seen him last. “My daughter, did you know her?” I turn back towards the water. “No. I just love this pond.” He nods and kneels down to place the flower next to the makeshift cross, the dates 1999-2018 etched on its horizontal board. I offer him my hand, he groans as I help him back to his feet and for a brief moment, we stand side by side. This is how it could have been if you noticed me; the three of us enjoying a beautiful day at the pond. Unfortunately, your selfishness left me with this feeling. This seething rage that I cannot contain much longer. I come here every time I get that feeling. It helps, but I’m afraid soon it won’t be enough to quell me. It keeps growing, like another piece of wood thrown on the fire burning inside me. I miss you so bad and I wish that you were here with me now, to satisfy this feeling. So that I could kill you all over again.


I sat in the cafeteria reading my book. I was by myself and thankful for a little silence. Across from me sat a table of popular girls. Sadie Hudson was at the head of the group. She towered over the other girls, and her light brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She laughed loudly and cupped her hands to whisper into her friend’s ear while staring at me. I took my book and began to make my way to another table. “What are you reading?” she asked, a twisted smile on her face. “Nothing that would interest you.” She snatched the book out of my hands. “The Vampire Lestat?” Said Sadie. “I bet she dreams of having a vampire lover. Don’t you, Val?” said another girl with dark hair. Before I could say anything, she flipped through the pages and began reading the more lurid passages to the table. They were all cackling like mindless idiots. I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t even think you could read,” I said softly. “I bet you she’s some kind of devil worshiper,” whispered the dark-haired girl. The bell rang, I looked around the cafeteria for staff, there was no one there just a sea of students heading out, Sadie and the other girls glaring at me. I grabbed my backpack and made it toward the exit. “We’re not done with you slut!” said Sadie. “What up Dracula’s daughter?” said Sadie’s boyfriend, Robbie. He was on some sports team at school. I forgot which one. "Nothing, I was just going to class before I was rudely interrupted by your idiot group.” "Call me an idiot again. I’ll make sure you’ll regret it,” he said. "You just threatened me with assault,” I said. “I’m going to report this.” "My dad’s a cop. It’s not going to stick. I could make you disappear, and no one would question us,” said the young man by Sadie’s side. I sprinted to my next class, looking behind me to see if they were following, thankfully they weren’t. I was slightly out of breath as I sat down at my usual desk and unpacked my bag. The whole class was staring at me as I pulled out my history book to study. Mr. Russo padded up to me slowly. "Um, Ms. Valerie, are you all right,” he said under his breath. "I'm fine, just running a little late sir, it won’t happen again, I assure you.” “Valerie, you’re crying, if you want to see the counselor-“ “No one listens to me, Sir. I need to focus on my GPA. It’s the only thing that will get me out of here.” He sighed and lowered his eyes. “Ms. Valerie, I’m going to write you a note to go to the nurse’s office to clean up.” I took the note and went to the nurse’s office. I cleaned up my face and drank some water. Wanda, the school nurse, was a kindly lady in a light pink sweater and salt and pepper hair. "Are you sure you don’t want to see the principal or guidance counselor?” "They’d just twist it around on me until I looked like the instigator, it’s not worth it,” I said. "Sadie Hudson?” "How did you know?” " You wouldn’t be the first girl that ended up here because of her. She used to be such a nice girl, bright and cheerful, but lately, she’s been awful. Just because her boyfriend is the sheriff’s son doesn’t mean she can walk over everybody.” “I’m getting my GED and attending a community college. I’m already taking advanced placement courses. There wouldn’t be much difference,” I said. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I’ll write you a hall pass. You have near-perfect attendance. I don’t think goin’ home early once will hurt your record.” “Thank you.” I took the pass from her and headed out to my car since I was leaving early, the halls were blessedly empty. Winding mountain roads and deep forest surrounded me as I drove home. The woods parted to the town of Junction. It was a tiny village with a few houses, a gas station, and a post office, at the end of the community, lay ruins of an old ironworks from the 1800s. A brick structure was twisting in decay at the foot of the mountain pass. There were rumors of a bad fire nearly a century ago that left the factory in ruin. I drove down the long driveway to my family’s house. It was a decent-sized cabin with a wooded yard. I carefully opened the front door and slipped inside. My parents were at work, and my sister wouldn’t be home for the next few hours, so I had the house to myself. Under my bed were books I hid from my parents. My family was staunch Baptist. I didn’t want to hear the arguments from them. I already had enough drama about how I dressed, let alone the lectures I would receive for practicing witchcraft. I had books on spells, demonology, and the occult as well as Wicca, Paganism, Buddhism, and Voudoun. I rummaged around and found the book I needed; ‘Protection and Reversal Magik.’ Flipping through the pages, I found a spell on building a ward of protection. I didn’t want to hurt Sadie, but I wasn’t going to be a victim either. Do no harm, but take no shit. After studying, I went to bed and woke up late at night. I gathered the spell-book, and a small bag packed with chalk, a few tiny candles, incense, a lighter, and salt. I put on a long black robe and a small wand that carved out of olive wood. I crept out of the cabin into the night. The road was empty as I walked to the old ironworks. I wanted someplace private I could cast my spell and move on with my life. Perhaps I would even free a spirit or two that was trapped there. In the middle of the factory was crumbling brick with a chimney reaching towards the stars. In the middle of the ruin stood Sadie, her eyes had turned black, Robbie stood behind her. His eyes were black too. His shadow was inky and angular. Too angular to be human. I could only catch a glimpse of it before it disappeared. Only to return on the opposite wall, a black shadow with jagged angles and tendrils. This was some demon, some monstrous entity that had corrupted Sadie and Robbie, what in the hell did I get myself into? “I want her to pay in blood,” said Sadie. The book was heavy in my hands. I had the knowledge to do something about this, and I was here fully armed against it. I could lose horribly and be creatures’ mercy. The olive wand trembled in my hands. I fumbled to find a page with an exorcism spell and found nothing. I would have to improvise. Do no harm, but take no shit. It was now or never. I grabbed a handful of salt and flung it into the shadow. Sadie and her boyfriend recoiled and made a hissing sound, smoke coiled black as the shadow itself. I brandished my wand: "I cast thee out by the name of the elements, Air, Fire, Earth, and Water!” The creature hissed again and backed away slowly. "I cast thee out of thine host and among roots of the earth!” I flung more salt. Sadie screamed and recoiled. Robbie grabbed me, his hand squeezing my throat, my vision darkened. “Down and out, amongst the stones and roots!” I screamed and chanted over and over. A loud inhuman shriek cracked through the darkness. A force yanked Robbie away from my neck and clear across the floor. He lay limply. I got up and coughed hard, catching my breath. My throat burned, and my neck felt bruised. I went over to Sadie and grabbed her arm. "Come on. We have to run!” She nodded and got up; she ran so fast that she pulled me behind her. Gravel slid beneath me as I hitched up my long black robe to run faster. The inky shadow was further and further behind us. We made it back to my cabin. "It’s safe in here, but I need you to be quiet,” I said. “What the fuck just happened?” asked Sadie, tears were streaming down her eyes, and her nose was running. “I.. I don’t know. An exorcism, I think, shh, just go in.” I carefully unlocked the door to my house. We walked upstairs quickly and silently. Once in my bedroom, I threw down a line of salt lining the entrance. “This is my abode; Hecate, protect it from darkness and spirits unknown.” I chanted as I held my wand against the door. I felt pressure, and then the room felt brighter and lighter. Sadie stared at me, her jaw agape. “We’re safe here,” I said, deflating to the floor. “What was that thing?” Sadie asked. “I don’t know whatever it was. It isn’t good.” “It has Robbie. You have to go and help him, please!” “We’re lucky we made it out alive, I don’t think I can fight that thing-“ “You have to try!” her face was bright red, and her nose was running. “Look, give me some time, I can build up a way to banish it for good.” She started to tremble, and I sat by her, she put an arm around me and began to sob. “Val, I’m sorry for how I treated you.” "It wasn’t you; it wasn’t even a person,” I sighed. “Don’t you worry, I’ll find some way out of this.” I let Sadie sleep on my bed as I studied my books for a solution. In my demonology book, I found a small section on exorcisms. The chapter warned against trying such a feat without years of training or alone. Demons and evil creatures hated strong will and faith. It didn’t specify a religion. Hell, an atheist only needed enough confidence in themselves to do one. (Then again, an atheist wouldn’t believe any of this was happening to begin with and try to find a rational explanation). Even with faith, it was perilous. I didn’t know any other occultist, at least not outside of small internet circles. I couldn’t go to our family pastor without outing myself as a witch. Once again, I was on my own with this. We walked into school the next day. The halls were silent. People stared at Sadie, and I, cupped hands whispered into ears. She parted from me, and I went to my morning classes. At lunch, I noticed Sadie sitting alone, tears running down her face. I sat next to her. “It’s still controlling him,” she sobbed barely above a whisper. I looked over to the next table, and Robbie was there with the pack of popular girls. The dark-haired girl twined around his arm. Inky, angular shadows surrounded the group. “Looks like our little Satanist has found a lesbian lover,” she smirked. They all broke out into tittering laughter. “Leave us alone!” said Sadie. “Or what, you’ll leave me behind to make out with a Witch?” said Robbie. "Shh,” I said under my breath, “remember, it’s not them.” "You have to fight them,” Sadie whispered. "Not in public. I’ll go back to the ruins tonight to see if it comes back.” Sadie nodded, her shoulders shook. Her eyes were red and swollen by tears. I had had years to build up a thick skin to being bullied and being laughed at and alone. I focused on my school work all these years and built a wall of sarcasm to protect me. "Robbie, you’re just upset because your girlfriend thinks I’m better in bed,” I smirked. “Maybe try being less vanilla. I’m sorry you’re all bigoted homophobes. You’ll have to greet all types in your future Walmart careers.” The bell rang. I wish I could have brought Sadie to my AP classes with me. At least the students there were mature enough to keep opinions to themselves. I walked to the guidance counselor’s office and asked for programs on independent study or an early transfer to community college. After school, I went to the parking lot to find the tires of my car slashed. I went back to the principal’s office and made a report, the police were called, including Sheriff Collins, Robbie’s dad. My stomach dropped, and I knew that this would go nowhere. I would have to report it to my insurance and wait for the claim to settle. “I can give you a ride home.” I turned around and saw Sadie. Her curly caramel hair was disheveled, and her eyes looked red and tired. "Thank you, I’m sorry about today,” I said. "How do you live with it?” she asked. “How can you stand how people treat you?” “With a lot of sarcasm and condescension,” I said. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you get used to it after a while. You learn not to trust people either. Even I have bad days where I break down. I was planning to leave school, not drop out, but graduate early. I don’t have to deal with this bullshit anymore. I never want to see this town again.” She burst into another round of tears. “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you!” “It wasn’t you,” I said. “It was, that…… that thing may have been on me, but it didn’t have complete control. It would whisper to me. It would tell me such mean things. But it didn’t make me say anything. I could’ve ignored it.” "Ok, ok, I forgive you,” I said. “Right now, I just want to go home.” Sadie drove a white Chevy Malibu. We drove in silence to my house in the woods. "Look, I’m going to go to the ruins tonight and try to fight this thing,” I said She nodded. "I’m not strong enough to fight this creature on my own. I need you there as back up.” “I’m scared. I have no idea what I’m doing. Look, you’re the witch. I mean, you have magical powers or something.” “It’s afraid of faith,” I said. “Bring a Cross or a Star of David, or a Pentagram or crystal or a lucky sock, whatever you believe. I’ll do most of the work, but I need someone else there.” She took a deep breath and nodded again. “I’ll see what I can do.” I tried to keep my mind off of the night ahead by studying. I worked on a term paper for a few hours, going to the kitchen to grab some leftovers. My parents engrossed in reality shows. I told them about my car and that I reported it to insurance. My father said he would call a tow truck in the morning and continued to watch T.V. I gathered my materials, a bag of salt, my olive wand, and some spring water that I left in the moonlight. It wasn’t Holy Water in the traditional sense, but it was the best that I had. The evil creature was afraid of force, afraid of will, fearful of faith. Do no harm, but take no shit. After my parents went to bed, I left the house quietly. The full moon shone overhead, casting blue light on the gravel road towards the ruins. Wood creaked under my feet as I entered the crumbling structure. “Sadie?” I called out softly. I saw a body hanging limply from one of the brick pillars in the silver light. It was Sadie, her curls dangled over her face, and her eyes were still open. “Poor girl, it seems she wasn’t strong enough to handle ridicule,” a raspy voice whispered in the darkness. “She’s not strong, not like you.” “Down amongst the trees and out upon the roots!” I shouted. I saw Robbie as he flinched and moved back. Fumbling with the bottle, I splashed all the holy water into his face. Steam poured off of his shadow, and he wailed in pain. “Down amongst the trees and out into the roots! Leave, go back to whence you came! BEGONE!” Robbie hissed and shuddered a bit. The dark angular shadow began to lift from him. I pushed every bit of energy and will through my olive wand. “BEGONE!” Another shudder. Dizziness struck me, and my legs felt limp. I took a deep breath. “By Gaia, Hecate, Bridgette! By Fire, Earth, Air, and Water. By Moon, Sun, Earth, and Stars, I order you GET OUT!” The shadow made a ripping sound, and Robbie screamed. Then there was disturbing laughter. “That was a valiant attempt, little Witch,” said Robbie. “I haven’t fought anyone that came close to beating me. Because you amuse me, I’ll let you live.” My mouth fell open. “There have been others before you. All the chants with “The Power of Christ Compels You!” he laughed. “None of it even came close to you. I think our dear Reverend only cares about the collection plate.” He smiled wistfully. “But you, you get called a Satanist, face ridicule and cruelty every day and have more faith in yourself than he does. This is very amusing, and I respect you for that.” “BEGONE!” I yelled again. Robbie chuckled and put his finger over my lips. “You won’t speak about this to anybody. I’ll report Sadie as a suicide, nothing to do with you. The mean girls will get blamed for bullying her. You’ll go on to get excellent grades and graduate early. You’ll leave this town altogether and not look back.” I went to cast again, but my lips sealed shut, my tongue felt like a stone in my mouth. "The thing is, y’all have it wrong. You’re trying to cast some demon or evil spirit out of me, thinking it’ll save me.” He shook his head and smiled. “I don’t hold host to a demon, sweetie. I am the demon. It’s just like you being a witch. You are what you are. Someone can’t perform an exorcism and make you stop being a witch. Just as you can’t cast my soul out from my own body.” I wanted to scream at him, to take down this monster hidden in the flesh, but I couldn’t break whatever silence he threw on me. Scowling, I picked up my bag and stomped home defeated. The next day at school, the mean girls were all in tears. Sadie’s suicide was all over the local news, and there were grief counselors. There was an assembly about bullying and planned a memorial service. People that I never even knew said their apologies for the way they treated me. Some also asked me to tutor them. I wanted to scream out, to tell the police the truth about what happened. Every time I went to say something, my mouth sealed shut, and my tongue felt leaden. Robbie walked by, putting his finger over his lips and smiled. I wanted to punch his teeth out, but I had no other choice than to swallow my rage. The rest of the year went smoothly. I graduated early and enrolled at State University. I made friends that had similar interest and accepted me for who I was. There was some tension with my family but could finally be myself. I moved forward with my life and didn’t much think of the town or high school. Years later, I was getting ready for work and watching the news. Robert Collins was running for governor, and his numbers showed he was winning. I saw dark, angular shadows looming around him. Blank soulless eyes stared right at me through the camera. Monsters never go away; they get elected.


#Hello r/ShortStories! : gift shopping, hanging the lights, warm mugs of hot cocoa, and… Reddit’s Annual Best Of Awards! We will, of course, be participating in this lovely tradition once again. 2022 has been quite a year (seriously, how is it December already?!), so let’s take some time to look back on some of the great stories that were posted to the subreddit. Winners will receive our **Community “Best Of” award**, which will give the recipient **one month of Reddit Premium**! And of course, . *** #How Does This Work? There are **several categories** in which you can **nominate your favorite stories** from 2022. In the comments below, you will find a comment for each category, made by a moderator. When you are ready to make nominations, **reply to the corresponding comment with a link to your nomination**. You can view for an idea of what it should look like. Each user may **nominate one story for each category**. When the nomination phase is finished, voting will begin on a separate thread, with all the nominations. **Note: THIS IS NOT THE VOTING THREAD.** Be sure to **read the entire post for categories, rules, and deadlines**. Should any changes be made to the schedule, they will be edited into the post, so stay updated! *** #The Following Categories Are Up for Nomination ###Weekly Feature Categories - **Best SERIAL SUNDAY Submission** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best MICRO MONDAY Submission** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / ###Tagged Story Submission Categories: - **Best [SF] SCIENCE FICTION Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [FN] FANTASY Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [HR] HORROR Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [MS] MYSTERY & SUSPENSE Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [RF] REALISTIC FICTION Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [HF] HISTORICAL FICTION Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [AA] ACTION & ADVENTURE Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [HM] HUMOUR Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [RO] ROMANCE Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [SP] SPECULATIVE FICTION Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [TH] THRILLER Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [UR] URBAN Story** - &restrict_sr=1&sr_nsfw=) / - **Best [MF] MISC FICTION Story** - / *** #Schedule - **Announcement:** December 21th - **Nomination Period:** December 21th - - **Voting Period:** January 6th until January 17th 11:59pm EST - After the Voting Period ends, results will be recorded and awards will be handed out. Winners will be announced in a post. *** #Nomination & Voting Rules - **Nomination comments should be placed in the appropriate categories.** Misplaced nominations will not be recorded. - **EDIT: Each user may nominate up to 3 stories per category.** Users may not nominate themselves. - **Nominated stories cannot be posted by banned or deleted accounts.** - **Nominated stories must be posted originally after January 1st, 2022 at 12:00am EST.** - **In the event of a tie at the end of the voting period, it will be broken by an anonymous member of the mod team.** - **Attempts to game the system for or against any nomination will result in appropriate punishment for those involved.** Do not downvote any of the nominations. - **Category comments are for nominations only.** Please use the off-topic stickied comment if you have questions or comments, or for any off-topic conversation. **Good luck, and have fun! If you do have any questions, feel free to ask in the provided Off Topic Comment or send us a modmail!** *** ###Subreddit News - Join to chat with prompters, authors, and readers! - Serialize your story with or test your micro fiction skills with . - Try collaborative writing over on r/WritingPrompts with ! - Looking for critiques and feedback for your story? Check out our crit sub .


Present day (Sam) \- "Wait... what do you mean by that?"- I asked, completely confused. \- "You heard me. She died giving birth to you."- he said, with the most disgusted face he could make. I looked at Ethan. He was shocked. I was frozen and couldn't move. She died giving birth to me? I... killed her? Before I could organize my thoughts, my father punched me in the nose. I was so shocked I couldn't even feel the pain. only the blood running down my nose. \- "HEY! Stop that!"- Etan yelled.- "Sam, come here. We're going to the hospital, now!" Ethan grabbed me and led me to the outside. My father was just going in circles around the kitchen saying "crap", again and again. Ethan called his parents and, in the blink of an eye, they were at my door. \- "Oh, Sam. What did he do to you? Are you okay?"- I was frozen and so, Mrs. Stevens helped me get in the car.- "Oh, sweetie. That bastard. I knew we should've done something before it was too late." Mr. Stevens entered my house yelling at my father. I tried to stop him, but nothing came out. I felt tears running down my face. Was I crying? How... how could he do this? I know he blames me, but I was just a baby. It wasn't my fault... was it? Am I really to blame? Did I really... killed my mother? It couldn't be. Ethan was holding me while I sobbed copiously. Between blood and tears, I stained all of my clothes and Ethan's. \- "Hey, dude. It's going to be okay. Don't worry. We'll take care of you."- Ethan comforted me. I was so out of it that I couldn't even answer him. I just hugged him stronger. We arrived at the hospital. I hadn't said a word since he punched me. Mr. and Mrs. Stevens talked to the nurse, and she wouldn't stop looking at me asking what had happened. I didn't say anything, and Mr. Stevens lied and said I injured myself playing football. She looked at me for a bit longer and then led us to a room. A couple minutes later and I had a piece of metal on my nose. Apparently, my father had broken it. I slept at Ethan's that night. I was staring at the top bunk bed while laying on the bottom one. I stood there in silence, crying and hoping Ethan wouldn't hear me. After half an hour, Ethan asked if I was awake. \- "Hey, Sam. Are you awake?" \- "Yes."- I mumbled. \- "How are you doing?"- I didn't answer him.- "You know we love you, right?" \- "Yeah, I know. But why didn't he?"- I asked. \- "I don't know, pal. I'm sorry." After a few hours, I fell asleep. I had the worst nightmare that night and woke up gasping for air. Ethan helped me calm me down and then we went into the kitchen. \- "Good morning, Sam. How are you?". Mrs. Stevens asked. \- "I'm not sure. My nose still hurts a lot."- I answered. \- "Don't worry about it. The doctor gave us some painkillers for you. It should be less painful in a few hours."- Mrs. Stevens informed me. \- "Thank you."- I said. \- You hungry?"- Mr. Stevens asked me. \- "No, not really. But thanks."- I said. \- "C'mon. You need to eat something. Just a yogurt, at least."- Mr. Stevens convinced me. \- "Okay..."- I compromised. I spent the whole day quiet while Ethan's parents tried to solve the mess my father had made the night before. Ethan tried to distract me as much as he could the whole day. We played some games, went for a walk and watched a movie. He was the best friend I could ever have asked for. At the end of the day, I just hugged him and thanked me. He hugged me back and said I didn't have to. It was agreed after a few weeks that Ethan's parents would take my custody. I'd live with them, and they reported the accident to the police. I wasn't sure how I felt about that at the time. Though my father did hit me, I didn't want him to get in trouble. Either way, living with the Stevens was the best decision. My father went to court for what he had done, and it was said that he couldn't be alone with me. Someone had to be there ass a witness, so the accident wouldn't happen again. After the first year, my father moved out of town, and I never saw him again. But it dind't matter. I had Ethan and his parents. My surrogate family. I loved them as if they were my family since the beginning. I eventually found out where my mother was buried and would visit the cemetery every month. My family started to be a little more open about her, so I had an idea as to who she was. I found out she liked to sing, that she was funny, nice and overall, just lovely. I wish i had met her. Maybe my life would've been different. Maybe things would've been better. Maybe things would've been worse. Who knows? The end. Thank you for reading.