Community service sucks. Community service sucks even more when you're sixteen and this was supposed to be your spring break. Community service sucks, even more, when you're assigned to slaving away in some random old woman's garden all day while your friends get to do things like chill out on the beach and stay up all night. But the part that sucks the most? Knowing I'm only having to do it because of my own mother, to begin with. Apparently, I smoke too much for her to handle anymore (which I think is a little bit dramatic, but whatever). I'm not sure how rebuilding an old widow's garden for the majority of my spring break is going to fix what I don't even consider a problem, but it's not like I really got to say much in the final decision-making process. It turns out, that when you're under suspicion of being a so-called 'addict', nobody really cares what defenses you have to give. When you're a low-life, you're going to be treated like one. Even though you're not actually one; people in Crestview just don't get it. And thanks to that, now I don't get to enjoy my spring break. Well, that's what my mom and probation officer want, anyway. Of course, I'm still going to spend my break the way I want to, I'm just kind of limited to hours after 7 p.m. now; that's why tonight my plans start at 7:01 and don't stop until I say they do. Screw whatever chance of a curfew my mom thought she had left. "Jay! You gotta go!", Mom's voice cuts through the house like a shrill and I roll my eyes. "Yeah.", I yell back down. Today's the day my service starts and I couldn't be more ready for something to be over. I slipped on my "VOLUNTEER" vest and give myself one last look in the mirror and think to myself "t his orange is so vibrant I might be able to be convinced that I'm high right now". As soon as my feet hit the hallway carpet outside of my bedroom, I immediately felt Mom's gaze on me from the bottom of the stairs. I turn to her and notice a couple tears welling up in her eyes. Apart from me wanting to feel bad because I know that she really is just worried about me, I can't. Instead, all I feel is an annoyance. I mean, come on . It really isn't this serious for me to smoke a little weed. "Mom. Chill out.", I say as I brush past her in the stairway. She takes a deep sigh and I immediately regret what I said. Not because it's untrue-- she does need to chill out-- but because I don't want to deal with the conversation I'm about to cause. I know I'm in for it. "I'm so sorry that I never wanted to send my child to be rehabilitated.", she finally says. She's kidding, right? "Rehabilitated?!", I yell in genuine disbelief. "Mom, I'm going down the street to help Ms. Glen plant her garden, not to a fuckin' rehab center. And yes you did want to! You're the reason why I'm even going anyway!" My heartbeat was so heavy that I'm sure even she could hear it from the outside. Mom puts her hands up in surrender and takes another of her characterizing deep sighs. " You are the reason why you are going. When my only two options as a mother are to either bail you out and sign in court that you'll do some community service or let you stay caught on a simple possession charge, I really think I did you a favor in what I chose. I am so sorry you have to sacrifice some of your time now to save yourself in the long run. There's a difference between doing what I want and doing what's necessary, Jay. One day, I really hope you realize that." With that, she was back in the kitchen cleaning and I was out on the front lawn estimating that the walk to Ms. Glen's would take me about four minutes from my porch to hers. It's the second house to the last on the left side of the street, and all stark white besides the red shutters. Her nephew still power-washed the exterior for her and knowing that made me wonder why he couldn't have just been the one to come rebuild this garden for her. I'm pretty sure the only reason Mom even chose me to do it for my supposed 'rehabilitation' was that she expected me to enjoy giving back so much that I would start volunteering on my own and bringing her fruits and vegetables once they grew or get inspired and start my own at home or something. She loved putting unrealistic standards like that on me and saying it was just her 'seeing all of my potentials'. Up until her husband had died almost eight months ago, the Glens' garden had been the pride of the south end of our cul-de-sac. Every summer the vegetables would grow in surplus and we'd all take trips down to their house for watermelons, carrots, tomatoes, you name it. This summer was going to be the first without Mr. Glen's green thumb to get us through the heat, but luckily my mom got way too involved in my life just in time to force me into being the one to take his place. I just hope Ms. Glen's not too much of the talkative type now that she doesn't have anyone else to riff off of. I just wanna get what I have to do done and go catch up on the fun I should have all day, every day of the next two weeks to have. I mean, really how fair is it that the same people I "smoke too much" with are still all together at Nathan's right now doing exactly that, but I'm stuck here walking up an old woman's front porch steps to clock in for the day. I'm greeted with a "Well, hey honey." when I walk through the banisters and when I look to where it came from I see Ms. Glen sitting in a rocking chair in the right corner of the porch. "Uh... hey.", I stumble. "I'm supposed to be here to help you start this season's garden?" She gives me a squint and I took that as my chance to wish she would've said she had no idea what I was talking about. She didn't, though. Instead, she pried on me over what I'd done to "wind up" in my "position". I might not be able to feel guilty about my mom's overreacting, but what I do feel guilty about is having to tell a seventy-three-year-old woman whose husband just died from lung cancer that I'm only here to help her with her garden because my neighbor caught me smoking and couldn't keep his mouth shut. Seriously, who calls the cops on a kid for doing something literally every kid does? That was literally all the justification Mom needed to criminalize it, and she wasted no time in doing it. Speaking of wasting no time, that's exactly what Ms. Glen did when she put me out the back door with an illegible but long list of things to get done. When Mom said "help Ms. Glen", I didn't know she meant to do everything for her. I understand she's old and whatever, but she isn't dead--because if she were, I'd be at Nathan's. The only words I could make out from her elderly chicken scratch were 'tomato cages', 'fertilizer', and 'squash', so those were the only things I was even going to bother getting done. If I could drag things out long enough, I'd be able to finish maybe one of those three by tomorrow. Realistically, for every eight hours of work I was supposed to be doing for the next ten days, I was only going to do about an hour.  That should have been plenty for Ms. Glen to be thankful for, and as long as the eighty hours technically were accounted for Mom couldn't even argue anything over it. Besides, it's not like I was actually being supervised. Ms. Glen could barely walk, let alone have the energy to even stand and watch me from her window all day. I began to think that maybe this wouldn't be so bad if I could actually get away with sitting around outside all day and just pretending to work. Unfortunately, my deep thinking was interrupted by a familiar voice coming over the Glen house's fence. "Jay? What you doin' down here?", was what it said and I knew exactly who I'd be met with once I turned around-- Carter Venice, aka the worst person to have possibly seen me here. Still, I turned around. Carter and I were friends, it's just that you can imagine how annoying having to explain the situation to him was. "Damn, so you not gonna be over at Nate's any this week then?", Carter asked me and I rolled my eyes hard. "Not 'til after 7. But by then I'm sure everyone will have moved on to something else for the night, ya know.", was my reply. Carter did know because he was a part of the 'everyone' who couldn't sit still for too long and constantly needed the next thrill. That's how I wanted to be spending my whole spring break too but now I couldn't even take a trip overnight since I had to be at Ms. Glen's by noon every day. As we were wrapping the conversation up, I noticed Carter's eyes start to wander to the far right corner of the fenced-in backyard behind me. "Bro, what are you looking at", I finally asked him and he just pointed and asked me a question back. "What is that over there?". I followed his finger's direction until my eyes met with a flourishing green plant tucked over into the side of the yard, but I didn't have an answer for him. "I don't know? I haven't done anything yet and I have no idea what she wrote on the to-do list she gave me. Why?" "Dude, no. Look at the leaves." I readjusted my eyes and looked again. Holy shit. My silence must have given my reaction away because Carter was the next to speak again. "There's no way that's what I think it is, right?", was what he said, and I didn't even know how to respond. "I don't think so? It's gotta be something else." There was just no way Ms. Glen was growing marijuana in her backyard. "Well go dig it up and let me take it home and find out." I turned around to face him again. "What?", I laughed, but he didn't. "Oh. You're serious?" "Why wouldn't I be serious?" "Bro, why would you? You actually want me to go pull that whole plant up for you right now?" "Nah, bro. I want you to go pull that whole plant up for us. Us and Nathan and everyone else bro. Come on. You're already the bummer of spring break, you might as well bring some good with you when you can finally show up. Ya know." I hated how easily he convinced me, but he was right. I was going to be the one missing out on what everyone else was doing, so I might as well make the best of it and get something good out of this. Stealing an old woman's weed plant would definitely make everyone forget I ever had this stupid restriction anyway. The next thing I knew, I was behind a shovel hacking away at roots and ripping the soil from under the plant. The leaves were pointy and spread out, and the whole thing was practically growing green. If this wasn't weed, it sure was a good imposter. I grabbed a spare terracotta pot from inside the shed and placed the plant inside before delicately handing it over the fence to Carter. "Take care of it. I'm serious. That's about to get us through high school." I joked as he walked away. For the next seven hours, all I could think about was whether or not Carter had told anybody or done anything with it yet. Finally, my eight hours of bullshitting were officially allowed to be over and I could go hang out with everyone, but when I walked through the back door my hastiness to leave was halted by Ms. Glen who was standing at her kitchen island with her walker waiting for me. "Did you get a lot finished for me?", she asked. "Oh yeah. Tons.", I lied and turned to finish exiting her home. "Did you see the Japanese maple I wrote down about?" The what? Oh. That must have been what 'Vopamese naple' on the list meant. "I did.", I lied again. "Doesn't it look nice over in that shaded corner? Bill planted that years ago for me, and now that he's gone it's my favorite. That's why I put it first on your list. I want extra good care taken of that one." I froze. The shaded corner? That's where... * * * "Carter?", my voice floats through the phone. "Google green Japanese maple and then meet me at Starkey's flower shop."


Change is inevitable “What is it about parties that intrigue and excite people? And why are those people considered boring who do not attend parties?” Deepa, debating with her office colleagues during lunch hours.

Deepa held an esteemed position in a bank in Bangalore and admired and respected by her colleagues for her cordial attitude and kind personality. An introvert who preferred her own space and privacy and looked for excuses to stay at home whenever any friend called her for an outing. She liked her own company. She watched movies alone, even eating out all alone, and was a solo traveler too. The office staff was planning a farewell celebration for Nitish, who had got transferred to Jaipur from Bangalore and was leaving this weekend. Nitish and Deepa have worked together for 2 years and had turned into good friends. Their personality was just contrary to each other, yet they always backed each other on the personal and professional front. Deepa was extremely sentimental when she heard about his transfer, but tried not to reveal it on her face. Nitish asked her, “Hey Deepa, you seem thrilled on hearing the news about my transfer. Are you so fed up with my antics?” Deepa, confused, thought about how and what to respond to. She hesitated and replied, “No, my friend, nothing like that. But I am happy for you as you always wished this and this is an opportunity for you to grow.” Nitish seemed annoyed with her reply. And he just left her cabin saying nothing. During lunch hours that day, Nitish did not accompany her for lunch. Deepa thought maybe he requires some privacy, so she too did not call him. The staff discussing with each other “Hey Deepa, why don’t we organize an adieu for Nitish this Friday. Suggest some good joints where we all can spend time with each other and also have wonderful food.” Deepa was silent, and everyone looked stunned. Archana, her colleague, and friend, exclaimed, “Why are you quiet? I realize you are unhappy that Nitish is leaving us but we should send him off with pleasant remembrances, isn’t it? And since you are one of his good friends, you recommend what should be gifted and which place he would like?” “You guys choose. See, I am not into parties and all, so I cannot suggest anything. I mean, the last party I attended was in school.” Deepa, in an unsettled tone, left without finishing her lunch and went back to work.

The next morning, both Deepa and Nitish just wished each other and went to their respective cabins. None of them uttered a word to each other. She was constantly thinking about what to tell him and how to console him, as she was not good at communicating emotions. She could not concentrate on her work. They did not have lunch together that day. Deepa called Archana to her cabin and asked, “Tomorrow is Friday. You were saying something regarding the farewell party, na. Anything decided?” Archana said “No Deepa. If you also suggest it would be much better” Deepa then offered the option of a good rooftop cafe which was Nitish's favorite. “What about the present?” Archana exclaimed. “That I will take care”. Deepa said. Archana, grinning “Oh, so someone is completely eager to attend a party, it seems” “No no. Not at all. You know I hate parties. Anyway, I am not attending,” Deepa, still in a confused state of mind. Archana, shocked, “What are you saying! He will be really disappointed if you don’t attend. And it is his last day in the office tomorrow.”

Deepa kept quiet. Then she prepared a list of the cuisine to be served at the party and asked Archana to call the cafe and make the arrangements. “Please ensure that Nitish is not informed of all this. Let it be a surprise for him.” That evening, after office, Deepa drove down to the cafe, which was fairly far from her residence, and had a discussion with the manager regarding how the place is to be done up and which flowers, etc to be used. She had taken utmost care that everything should be as per Nitish's liking. Then she ordered a beautiful big heart-shaped cake and asked the shop to deliver to the cafe at 8 pm the next day. She was just concerned about the gift, as she didn’t even have an entire day to get that designed. It was Friday. Nitish's last day in office. Both Deepa and Nitish were avoiding each other for the past 2 days. Nitish looked sad, and he came to Deepa's cabin to wish her. She wasn't there. He loudly asked the staff, “Where is your Madam Deepa?” “We don't know, sir. She has informed nothing,” they exclaimed. Nitish wanted to call her and shout at her furiously for her behavior. In his mind, “Today is my last day in the office and she has disappeared without even uttering a word? Now I won’t speak to her ever.” He decided not to call her. Archana saw Nitish was really upset. She went to his cabin and tried to console him, but he was not in a mood to listen to anything.

Meanwhile, Deepa had taken an off just to arrange the best gift for her best friend so that this day becomes memorable for him. She called Archana and before she could say anything Archana interrupted, “Where are you? Don't you today is his last day in office and he is really upset. Are you coming to the party or not? And what about his gift?” Deepa asked her to calm down “Archana, I am on leave. I had some personal work and I am feeling sick too. I won’t be able to attend the party. Please ensure that all arrangements are made in the cafe. And yes, I have ordered the cake and gift. This is the cake shop number. Please call them and confirm. The gift part will be taken care of before Nitish arrives.” Archana, totally astonished, “Why you are doing all this when you can’t even attend one party for your friend's sake. Do you have to be so adamant every time? And there are only known faces at the party, so you won’t feel out of place, I promise you.” Archana tried to persuade her somehow but Deepa had decided not to attend the party as she was feeling sad and distressed at the same time in attending a party after so long. It was evening and as the party time was nearing, Deepa was getting calls from all her office staff, but she did not pick any calls. She knew that her behavior was strange. All kinds of concerns were making her anxious- Will Nitish call me? Will he ever talk to me again? Will I lose one more good friend? She also tried to console herself at the same time. “No, nothing can affect our friendship. Even if I don’t attend his party, he will understand as he knows I detest going to functions and parties.” It was 8 pm and one by one, all the attendees were arriving.

“Who is informing Nitish?” one colleague asked. Then they were gossiping “Deepa is there na, she will take care.” To everybody's shock, Archana told them that Deepa is not attending the party, and she suddenly realized that Deepa had told her to arrange a cab to pick Nitish. She had totally forgotten about it. When she was about to call the cab, she saw a message from Deepa which read, “I have arranged the cab. Don't worry.” Archana thanked her and again requested to come to the party. Meanwhile, Nitish was packing his things, unaware of the party. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and he saw Deepa standing at the door with a big and beautiful bouquet and a sorry message card. Nitish got really emotional and couldn’t contain his tears. He just hugged Deepa and cried a lot. Deepa consoling him “Nitish, stop sobbing. It does not suit you. First, get dressed and please wear something nice. We have to go somewhere.” “Where?” He asked. “Don't ask any more questions, We don’t have time. Just come along with me. I am waiting outside in the car.” Till they approached the cafe, Nitish kept asking her that what is all this about but she kept absolutely quiet. He mentioned “Hey this is my favorite cafe. Why have we halted here?” Come with me. Deepa, holding his hand, took him to the rooftop where everybody was looking forward to the party to start. “Hey, guys. See who’s here.” Deepa, totally enthusiastic. Nitish couldn’t believe his eyes. Such beautiful decorations all around and a huge poster with his name and photo saying “We will miss you.” “Thank you all.” He said. Archana came running to Deepa and stated, “You are such a devil. And all this time you were constructing a drama saying you don’t like parties, etc.” “Archana, I had decided actually not to come to the party. You know how antisocial I am. But when I thought about all the memories we have shared, a thought crossed my mind- that I will repent this moment forever if I cannot be with my best friend on the last day.” Archana was in tears.

All of them enjoyed their food and drinks and had a good time together.

“Ok people. All of you please leave your food and drinks aside and join me to present a beautiful gift for Mr. Nitish, who will leave us in a few hours’ time but will not be leaving our hearts.” Deepa presented the gift which she had specially made for Nitish. She herself had prepared a beautiful photo frame hand-painted and with a collage of all the photos comprising lovely times in office with all the colleagues- happy, sad and all emotions just flashed as they relived the moments. Nitish. spellbound, “I am not in a situation to say anything. This is one of the best days of my life and I will never forget all of you, ever. Deepa, this is so thoughtful of you. You have made my stay worthwhile.” It overjoyed Deepa to see Nitish's reaction and was fully emotional. “See, because of you, an anti-social element like me attended a party after so many years. You always used to tease me, isn’t it? Frankly, I really don't know whether I will attend more parties but anything for my best friend and colleague. I hope you get what you deserve and we will always be there for you.” The party ended with everyone posing for selfies and smiling and hugging each other. Deepa was dropping Nitish back home, and she said “I am really sorry for my behavior for the past few days. I was just totally confused about my feelings and just did not know how to tell you I will miss you a lot. You have given me so much happiness in such a brief span of time.” Both of them hugged each other and bid goodbye. Deepa, on the way back home, thought “Attending parties is not that bad like I had believed all these years.” She kept looking at all the photos repeatedly and dozed off weeping and thinking about how the next morning will be without Nitish in the office.


"What do you mean a spaceship is headed for us?" he said, trembling with fear. "It's all over the news," she told him, "Where have you been David?" "I drank last night, I just woke up," he explained, she always did this, she judged him, it was in her eyes, disgust. "I hate that you do that," she scowled, but she was holding back, "you drink until you pass out and then you wake up and you do it again." "Yes and I will keep doing it until the day I die," he explained. "Just like dad," she said, and this was a deep cut, she knew what she was doing, she mentioned dad all the time. He turned and walked away to hide the tears, opening the door to the bar. The inside walls were a dark brown and pictures and paintings lined them, booths along the walls, and tables scattered throughout but those weren't David's destination. David walked straight to the back to the bar, where he would sit. Bottles all along the wall behind the bar, he imagined drinking everything behind the bar, walking back there and chugging it all. Surely he would die then. The door opened behind him, as he strolled towards the barstool he always sat in, she was following him. She wasn't supposed to follow him, she never had before. "It's the end of the world, and still your just going to sink into that seat just like every other day?" she asked him, reprimanding him. "What do you think I should do Sam, do you think I should join the military and help them take down the aliens?" "Well no that's not-" "Sir," David shouted to the back, the bar had just opened, and just like always he had woken up just in time, "two shots of whisky please." "You know I don't drink," she reminded him, and he just laughed. The bartender came around the corner scowling. "You're the first one here every day David," he said as he grabbed the glasses and poured the shots, "the only one ever here this early." "It's one," he explained, taking one shot and then the other in quick succession, "and that means its time to drink." "Most people don't start until five," Sam explained, trying to get his attention. She needed to leave, how could he get her to? "Look I won't be here all day," he explained, "I just need it to function. If you leave and go do whatever you were trying to get me to help with, I'll join you soon." "I met this guy at a bar last night," she explained, as he held up his hand for a refill, the bartender sighed and filled both of the shot glasses, "he has a spaceship, he said we are going to be eaten if we stay here, we gotta go David." "I'm not leaving, this is our home," he explained, "and I'm not going to be in anyone's debt." He gulped down both shots at once. "I'm not going to leave you here to die," she said, trying to pull him, she was too weak and he was too large, he wasn't muscular, it was the alcohol. "You don't get it," he said, angry now at her persistence, he almost forgot he was looking at her, it was sometimes like he was talking to himself, "I'm already dead." She began to sob, her makeup dripping from her brown eyes, she wiped the black hair out of her face. She was pretty, just like he was, though without the chubby cheeks and perpetually red skin, but she was an ugly crier. He had to get her to stop and he had to get her to leave. He was trying to get numb and she was killing his buzz, though he didn't feel one yet, prompting him to gesture to the bartender again. When the bartender filled his glass, she began to cry even more. It was a passionate, deep cry, as if she was grieving. He had to explain it to her, he had to calm her down. "I don't care that the world is ending," he said, "but I can tell you do." He would agree to go with her if only to calm her down, who knew if he would actually get on a spaceship. She was stressed, clearly in shock and he was just making it worse, so he continued, "When are we leaving?" She stopped crying suddenly, and sniffled, "Tomorrow, hopefully before they get here." "Cutting it close?" he asked, not actually caring, his only thought was the hope that he could get drunk in space. "His name is Renauro, he came here to save those that he could before the planet is demolished," she explained, "meet at this address, tomorrow at noon." She handed him a sheet of paper and then struggled to her feet, wiping her tears away. "I'll be there Sam," he told her, "I promise." He instantly wanted to take it back, he promised her? Why had he done that? He knew that his routine dictated that he had an appointment here at this bar at one tomorrow, so what had he done? "You better be or I'll drag you there, kicking and screaming," she said, punching him in the arm, hard, "that was for making me cry you idiot." Then she finally left. He watched her leave and when she was gone he turned to the bartender. "Another round," he said, "Why is this place open if what she says is true?" "I mean they all say there are aliens coming," he explained, pouring another round into the glasses, "but even if it was true, which it's definitely not. Just a hoax by the government to scare us and lower our vibration. If it was true, I still got bills to pay." David downed the shots, finally he was beginning to feel something. How much did he have to drink now to become buzzed? Or was it just the effect Sam had on him? Then the door opened again, he turned, angry that Sam had returned, he did promise her and he shouldn't have even done that. What more did he have to do to get rid of her? Then he noticed that it wasn't Sam at all, but a man dressed in a strange uniform of some kind, with a long red coat that drooped to his knees. Cut so that it swooped back behind him, making it appear like he had a tail. The man didn't wear normal pants, but red capris to match the coat. Everything was embroidered with intricate black weavings that appeared like veins stitched throughout the coat and trousers, and the man wore no shoes. The man approached the bar, the bartender stared at him stunned, as if he was culture shocked. David didn't move, this man looked like an alien, even if his dark hair and blue eyes, his sharp nose and curved mouth looked like a humans, there was an air about him. "I'll have whatever is the strongest," he said and then gestured for David, "and another round for my good sir." "What kind of accent is that?" he asked, it sounded like a butchered American accent, like he was from some country no one had ever hear of and was pretending to be from here. "What do you mean?" the newcomer asked, as the bartender poured them their drinks. "You're not from around here," the bartender said, nodding to the man, as he took a sip from the shot that was poured for him, vodka. "It's obvious?" he asked, looking puzzled, "I practiced it for weeks on my way here." "You're one of them," the bartender said, as he stepped back, his eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open, hitting the bottles, and knocking them to the floor. Normally he would be upset at the inventory lost, but instead he ran. Through the door to the back, and out of the back door as well. David smiled, dreams do come true. David walked behind the bar, and grabbed a bottle of whisky, taking off the cap, and taking a swig of it, "I've been thinking for years of ways to get one of them to leave the bar unattended," he said, laughing in joy, "who knew all it would take was an alien?" David was afraid too, but getting numb was all he cared about, he chugged the whisky. Fear could wait. "My name is," the man paused, taking another sip from his shot glass, what a strange sight, "well you can call me," he paused again to think this time, "Joseph." "Okay," he said, this man was so strange, he could call him Joseph? "Well you can call me David," he said with a laugh and a swig from the bottle. "Hello David," he said, "I was searching for you." He nearly jumped but instead decided to slump to the ground. Great just another person searching for him, come to kill his buzz too he assumed. "What do you want?" he asked angrily. "That's simple," he said, "I've come to offer you a favor." "I don't need anyone doing any favors for me," David slumped even further down, finishing the bottle with a chug, "If it's about leaving, I already got a ride." "No no," he said, raising his hand, standing up to get a better look at David on the ground, "this isn't about leaving, I can stop the invasion and you can stay here as long as you like." David laughed, standing up, not just to face the man but to procure another bottle, "And what do I have to do with this?" "Well you see," he said with a smile, "you're my weapon." "What do you mean?" "Alcohol is rot, death and poison," he explained, ripping the new bottle from David's hands, he nearly jumped over the bar and hit Joseph but then he remembered where the man was from, "and with the right tools blood alcohol content can prove to be quite useful as weapons." "Do I have to do anything that requires anything other than drinking?" he asked, he had to know what he was required to do. "Actually," he said with a smile, "no you don't." "What?" David was confused, as the man handed the bottle back to him, having opened it for him, and he took a sip. "In fact, I need you to drink far more than you normally do," he explained, "I have a machine that will turn your blood into a poisonous gas, that we can use to kill the aliens." "Okay," he said, chugging the bottle, finishing it in one tip of the bottle, "I'm the man for the job." With that Joseph stood up and began walking to the door. He turned around and added, "I'll see you tomorrow at noon." David was alone, and his task was simple. He had to drink more than he ever had before and he had to do it to save the world. He imagined Sam's face when he tells her that his drinking saved the world. He locked the bar, people would definitely come to drink, it was the end of the world after all. He had to make sure they knew it was closed. Alone with his best friends, the bottles behind the bar, David blacked out. Something hit him hard in the ribs, he groaned. His head was pounding and his face was wet with his drool. He didn't want to open his eyes, he just wanted to stay laying on the bar but the hard object hit him again in the ribs. He opened his eyes to see the alien standing over him, cane in hand, ready to hit him with it again. "Enough he said," his throat was so dry, he hated waking up, every day was the same, headache, dry mouth and nausea. It hurt to talk and so he said nothing else. "It is done," the man explained, "I came at noon to collect your blood." "What do you mean it's done?" he asked, "Did the aliens come?" "They did," he said, solemnly, "and now they're dead." "I saved the world?" "Well I did, you were just the weapon," the man said with a smile. "Well let's celebrate," David said, his drinking had saved the world, he was ecstatic, he climbed off the bar and grabbed a bottle and two glasses. He poured them both a shot of vodka as he laughed in joy. There was a reason other than becoming numb that he drank last night and finally, for the first time in his life he felt fulfilled. "Oh no," Joseph said, upset over something, sorrowful, as if something had gone terribly wrong, "Did I leave that part out?" "Leave what part out of where?" he asked. What was he talking about? David took a sip and his body instantly rejected it, puking it back up all over the bar, and all over Joseph, "What is going on?" He was furious, that had never happened before, there was something seriously wrong. What did he do to him? "I was meant to tell you," Joseph explained, "the machine interacts with your blood, it doesn't just extract it, it transforms it." "What are you saying?" "It makes it so that your body rejects alcohol," he explained, David refused this, taking it as a challenge and took another sip, forcing it down, through the gagging he was doing. "See," he said, holding up the bottle, he could feel his eye, he had popped a blood vessel to force it down, "I can still drink." He would not let this craziness steal his only peace away from him. "I'm afraid," Joseph said sorrowfully, "even if you do manage to keep it down, your body won't metabolize it. You'll never be able to get drunk again." David cried, just as his sister had earlier. He was grieving, his pain grew, and his stomach forced the alcohol out of him, he projectile vomited, and his pain only grew. He could never drink again, he'd never be drunk again, he would never be numb again. He had lost his best friend and the grief threatened to overwhelm him. Then a hand was placed on his shoulder and anger overwhelmed him. He had killed it, his best friend, the numbness, he was a monster and David would have his revenge. He turned around, ready to beat on the man who had stolen everything from him, but only found Sam there, waiting for him, "Did you hear the news?" she said with a smile, "the aliens are all dead, we were saved by some hero. So I guess that means you can live your life here," she gestured to the bar, "like you wanted." This broke him and he fell into Sam's arms, feeling the pain he had been avoiding for so long.


I sit at a fully crowded coffee shop in the midst of the holiday rush. There is Christmas music and joy in the air and I had a rather pleasant chat with the employee who took my order. I have my "nice mask" on today, which is not really a fake identity as much as it is my true unmasked self. Without all the drama, stress and countless responsibilities that come with the everyday package that is young adulthood. I consider all my "personas"so to speak, a part of who I am. Little imaginary people that strike my consciousness awake and fill me up with an overwhelming dose of fresh ideas (bad and good ones, that is). It has been occurring to me a lot lately how people perceive other individuals and project themselves to the world. No matter what we do, even while being in the middle of the most intimate or vulnerable moment possible, as long as we are in the presence of another we are not being our complete, authentic selves. Faces, masks, personalities, be that as it may, they are all a part of us. There is no such thing as being "fake"or "not your true self", for the reason that if somebody is committed to be the definition of those things, those too become a part of who he/she is and will be in the future. It is not necessarily a good thing, the fact that we'd have to eventually accept that being two faced is how most humans interact with their environment, although I have come to realize that it is inevitable. Allegedly there are several sides to having multiple personas and quite frankly we become better people by periodically "acting" in front of others or in situations where we don't want to become a vulnerable, bare target. I believe it is due pure survival instinct; the sheer need to address to others that there is absolutely nothing bothering you, that you are indifferent to how others may view what you express or the way you behave. Bad figures, good figures. There is no being in this world that has never been selfish about their life, engaging in the process of survival until their last breath. Rudeness, evil, kindness, the ability to care for others, all oozing from the same dark place that is existence and its many faces.


\[First chapter of potential novella, 'Boy Pink'\] \[Inspired by my favourite writer, J.D Salinger\] \ There were precisely twelve loose threads hanging from the left sleeve of Anna’s marlin-blue Yves Saint Laurent cardigan. It was a high-neck in a sailor knit – should that mean anything to you. An unfortunate state of affairs for a woman who, without a moment’s hesitation, so adamantly looks down on another for something as silly as their haircut or their social class. Anna is the type of woman who would not just deny a man with no home her loose change. She would then too deny him his dignity and his pride in so truculently telling him that she did indeed have some change, but its nature was not loose. It was bound to her possession. It was rightfully earnt and that she would sooner be dead than to blindly hand it out to society’s freeloader. She would tell him that he ought to be the own means to his end and that his circumstance will never change from being sat on the pavement of a Manchester alley with his hands cupped together, extending themselves ceaselessly to the ankles of the proud men who stride past him. They will never stop for him and kneel at his feet. For that stride was one of pride and purpose. The stride of a man who is something and is going somewhere. A man in which he, the Homeless, could not form a common bond. For the Homeless has no purpose, no pride; he just exists in purgatory between his birth and his death. If Anna were to be right about any one fact – and I say ‘if’ in its utmost conditional form as she is so often confined to the boundaries of her own ignorance - it would be that life is purgatory between birth and death. Existence is just a matter of purpose and lack thereof. We are born and are taught silly little things about how best to go about this existence that we call ‘life’. We, universally, have come to a more-or-less unanimous interpretation of the routine. We go to school and learn a whole myriad of things that we have no real care or use for. We then enter the working world where our worth is ruthlessly categorised based on skill and paid by our merits. The more valuable your contribution to society, the more keep you will earn. We then simultaneously go through a series of failed romantic interests, pursuing ‘the One’ who we shall inevitably marry - share children, a home, a dog and our memories with. We will explore the world with – which, and let me tell you, is full of people subject to the same customs as us, but any petty nuance you could possibly pick-up on is described as ‘culture’. Then you will retire. You will die. Your children will carry on your name and they will live in the same way. It is an infinite regress. And dare you disregard or wayward away from this existential routine then your life will be judged – often and harshly – by others. The boy who does not go to school is rough, daft and uneducated. The man who does not work is nothing short of a societal thief and a scrounger. The girl who does not marry is to become a spinster. The woman who does not bear children is most likely baron and, oh, how sorry we are to feel for her and to shower her with pity for her profoundly empty and meaningless ‘life’. Certain things make this routine easier. Such as being conventionally attractive. Rich. White. Male – a straight one, might I add. This routine has been easy for me. I guess I merely appear, in this existence of absurd futility, to be a sum, or at least one, of these conditions. “Well then?” said a voice with a very blunt inflection, almost without inquisition at all, rather, a demand for the unwavering attention of its recipient. “This one.” My eyes followed a set of beautiful hands as they, unfortunately without grace, grasped a satin Lauren Ashley dress. Oh my, how Anna had the most undeniably beautiful hands. Her smooth, lightly tanned skin remained balanced in both tone and form from the top of her wrist to the tip of each finger, meeting her perfectly manicured nails. I sometimes thought that she was so undeserving of these hands. Well, it was not so much that she didn’t deserve them. There is not anyone I can think of – perhaps except rapists, thieves and murderers of children – that don’t deserve hands. It was more that she didn’t really know how to use them. They were quite misplaced on her as you would think a Banksy scrawl would be in the Lourve. “What of it?” I asked, subtly clearing my throat before speaking. That happened often. I would go for such a long time, engaged in my own thoughts and not in discourse with Anna, where my mouth and throat would become almost completely dry as though I had not spoken for days or smoked an entire pouch of Amber Leaf. “Oh, for fucks sake, Louis. Snap out of it!” she hissed venomously - although with otherwise limited expression - as to not make a scene in an up-market shop, still clutching the dress to visually inform me of her frustration. “You said you’d--. Nevermind.” She turned away from me and slowly walked ahead, carelessly scanning the dresses with her finger. A weak analysis. Just to distract herself from her own upset. I would often linger three steps behind her. Not because I was embarrassed to be with her or anything silly like that. She was a beautiful woman. Not intrinsically. But that didn’t matter when it came to being in public with someone. You cannot be embarrassed because someone isn’t beautiful ‘on the inside’. I was certainly ashamed of being with her. But that’s different. Shame, I find, is a much more private affair. It’s something you feel because of something you’ve done that defies the common conception of the good. It eats away at you and makes you recoil in disgust of your very being. Embarrassment, however, is felt when you’ve done something that casts you as an outsider – defying the norm. For example, shitting yourself of a Magic Bus, as I watched a young man do yesterday morning, was embarrassing for him because it is not normal to shit yourself on a bus at the age of twenty-two. He, in that moment of losing control of his rectal muscles, was cast as an outsider. Cast as an outside by the general population of the Magic Bus (approximately some twenty-five commuters who saw it – perhaps sixty who smelt it). But this is not the same as shame as it doesn’t defy any moral construct. It’s just fucking weird. Had this tragic gentleman shat himself in his own home, the event exposed to the witness of only himself, he would certainly not be embarrassed. He would not be ashamed either. “Louis!” Her voice was piercing. I suppressed myself from jerking upright to her attention. “Look”, she said, slowing pulling down on the loose threads of her Yves Saint Laurent cardigan. “When did this happen?” “Oh dear”, I remarked, offering a cheap glance and a faltered expression of concern. “I hadn’t noticed” “I’m sure everyone else did”, she murmured, caressing her arm as if to provide herself with some level of self-comfort, whilst concealing the wound of her garment from the ever-judgemental peers of her world. She blinked rapidly – as if to hold back tears from spilling over the lip of her bottom eyelids. Turning-tables are a funny little phenomenon. I carefully stepped toward her - almost silently – as a predator in the wild steps towards his unsuspecting prey. I exhaled deeply. She looked up at me, her beautiful eyes glazed with water, muddied by a thick layer of mascara. She looked down, head hung in discomfiture, enclosing her body in her arms, as a shell of console. I gently took her hands, slightly trembling, and brought them forward from her back. Her head was perfectly nested in the bay between my chin and my collarbone. She released her tears, inaudibly, as if she couldn’t possibly hold her composure a moment later. They collapsed down my neck and into the collar of my shirt. I repositioned my head – slowly, as to not disturb her position – and lightly kissed her forehead. “I know”, I spoke to her with tone of the utmost retrospective prudence.


As the orange dawn crept over the west horizon, Fabio slammed the snooze button for the third time. Then the fourth. Then the-

Fabio decided the first day of school was a special day, so he got out of bed the fifth time his alarm rang. But Fabio did not know how special the day truly was. This year could be different, it’s fifth grade. Wanda and Maggie had bullied Fabio since the first grade and Fabio would prefer anything - anything - to being thrown in the recycling bin everyday during lunch. Or, at least he thought he would prefer anything. As Fabio walked to Marie Curie Elementary School, he couldn’t help but notice things were different. The sun warmed the wrong side of his face. His fellow pedestrians greeted each other, instead of gluing their eyes to their smartphones. The birds were retweeting instead of tweeting. It was the same way at school as well. The teachers were skipping, the jocks were calculating and the toilets were clean. Fabio was beginning to grow quite suspicious, but then he spotted Wanda. Not too far behind her was Maggie. Forgetting all clean toilets, Fabio turned around to dash into the nearest safe place, but instead ran into the Head of Discipline. The Head of Discipline was built like Sommer Ray’s behind and running into him was like galloping into a cinder block wall. Despite his unusual apologies, the collision with him still hurt, and Fabio needed time to recover after that. “Here, let me help you up,” a fear arousing voice said. Fabio was about to scramble away from Wanda when she grabbed Fabio’s hand and actually helped him up. He cringed, waiting for her to smack him or something worse. “Oh no,” an equally scary voice said, “Are you hurt?” Fabio looked at Maggie and shook his head, still expectant. “Of course you’re not,” Maggie continued, giggling, “A man like you doesn’t even compare to him. You’re probably rock hard! Here, let me walk you to class!” Without warning, she grabbed Fabio’s bicep and began walking towards her homeroom. Fabio stayed planted in the hallway, unable to imagine what unthinkable thing they could be planning. “You coming?” Maggie asked cheerfully, swinging her hip against Fabio’s. Fabio only squeaked in return, barely shuffling to his fate.

“Ugh!” Wanda exclaimed, “Maggie, you’re obviously taking him to the wrong homeroom, he’s not in your class. Come on!” she turned to Fabio, “I’ll walk you to your right class!” The warning bell rang, emitting the sound of singing unicorns, so Fabio took that opportunity to run. He was almost home free, the door was in sight when the gym teacher caught him by the shirt. She very happily told him that he was going the wrong way, and offered to show him to his class.

When Fabio did make it to his classroom, he expected it to smell like the first day of school: Dread and full body sweat. But instead it smelled of Pine-Sol and miracles. Something is not right , Fabio mused as he took the last empty seat. He was so busy smelling the miracles he did not even notice that he was sitting next to Wanda. That is, until she began to squee about how nice his haircut looked.

“That’s ridiculous,” Fabio retorted, “My hair never looks good.” Wanda pulled out a compact mirror and opened it for Fabio to gawk at. He gasped. Instead of looking like a deformed coconut, he mirrored a young Justin Trudeau. Today is not okay. Fabio told himself.

When lunch finally rolled around, Fabio opened his locker to find a handwritten note waiting for him.

Meet me behind the recycling bins. <3 <3 During lunch or else… ;) ;) You know who ;) <3 Fabio did know who. Wanda had very recognizable printing. And he knew that he had to meet her, because the, “Or else,”s were always worse. Although this time, instead of skulls and crossbones, there were hearts and winky faces, but that wasn’t going to fool Fabio. He met her prepared for pain. “Heeyy, Fabio!” Wanda greeted, slinging an arm around his waist. “Let’s just get on with it,” Fabio squeaked. “You’re like totally right!” Wanda giggled, “I know you feel the same way about me as I feel about you, right?” Fabio nodded, then all hell broke loose. He assumed the way Wanda felt about him was bad until she leaned in and gave him a big bear hug. Fabio was still much weaker than Wanda so he could not break free. He would’ve much rather been recycled. After a disgusting eternity, Wanda suddenly pulled away. “Oh thank God!” Fabio sighed. “Oh! Wanda I cannot believe you would just go and steal my man like this! What kind of friend are you?!” Maggie was standing to the side, rage overtaking her countenance.

“A good friend!” Wanda spat back, “He clearly loves me more, and this was the only way to break it to you. I’m just helping you guys sort out your feelings!” “ Feelings?! ” Maggie screeched, “You don’t know anything about how I feel! How could you?! The only one who understands me is Fabio!” Fabio had never been more void of understanding in his life. Before that day, Wanda and Maggie had been simple. They hated Fabio and loved making him suffer. Together . Fabio was sure they had never fought in all their years of best friendship and no boy was going to change that. Especially not him . Fabio was about to voice his thoughts when Maggie suddenly grabbed him and began a sequel of Wanda’s performance. But thankfully, Maggie wasn’t as strong as Wanda, so Fabio was able to squirm free. “Ladies!” Fabio had always imagined himself giving a speech to Wanda and Maggie, the kind that would inspire them, or at least overwhelm them with guilt so that they’d leave him alone, but not like this, “I don’t know what has gotten into you! You guys are best friends. No boy should get in between you! Your guys’ bond is so much stronger than this! Besties before buys! Bros before-” “Oh em gee! Fabio you’re so wise!” Wanda crooned. “Am I?” “Of course!” said Maggie, grabbing Wanda into a hug. They apologized to each other and continued hugging. When they detached, Fabio was standing there with an accomplished grin on his lips even though the sappy, lovesick grins Wanda and Maggie gave back were the most disturbing thing he had ever seen. Girls were none of his concern. *** The next time Fabio was being shoved in a big blue bin, he thought back to September 3, 2012, the day when the sun rose in the west.


It was the third time this week that I was there, staring at the overgrown fence around the old Hawkins place. A sign with 'Beware of Dog' inscribed on it, peaking out from the foliage. The old place had been empty for a long time, longer than most of my and my friends lives. All kinds of rumors surrounded the place. The dad lost it and killed his entire family and himself and that it was haunted by their ghosts. Or that it was built over an old burial ground and the dead chased the Hawkins out. Suffice it to say, nobody knew for sure, and those that did weren't saying. Something about the place always drew me in, like a magnet, but I had never gone through the fence. My parents told me that I shouldn't go near the place, since it was old and broken down even when they were in school. I had, for the most part at least, been able to avoid it. My curiosity while itching at the back of my brain, was mostly quiet. That is, untill Halloween came around. Was riding in my friend Billy's car, and as we passed, and he said,"We're gonna find out what happened." "What did you say?" "That we're gonna find out what happened. That place has sat there rotting for what? Forty or fifty years? People have been scared shitless for ages, and it's stupid. You, me, and a few of our friends can scope it out. We'll film it all, and when we prove the place is just old, some contractor can tear it down. And we get a sweet finders fee." "Dude, I'm not sure that's a good idea. Think about it. That place has been sitting for ages, and I doubt you're the first to have that thought. And yet here it sits. Suspicious is an understatement. Not saying I'm not curious, but everybody says to stay away. Has to be for a reason." "Come on dude, you're seriously going to wuss out on me? What'll everyone else say when you don't show tonight? Man, Steve really is a pathetic mommas boy! Bet he can't even wipe his ass without her say so! You really wanna deal with that shit?" "Well, no, I guess not. Ok, ok I'll do it. But if we find even one weird or freaky out of place thing, we're out. Ok?" "Of course, cross my heart. Anything weird, we get out," Billy said with a winking grin. ... *Creak* *Creak* *Crunch* "Viola! Open sesame! All that magic word shit," Travis said, brandishing his crowbar. Holding the newly freed boards, he laughed,"Lady's first." "Oh, what a gentleman," replied Katie as she elbowed past him. She was a bit of a tomboy, and our group's only girl, and I was in love. She was just cool, ya know? Never could work up the courage though. "Wait for me! I've got the flashlights," squawked Slime. He was a bit nerdy, and he always smelled like paint, but he was ok. Bit loud, but in an endearing way. Our fearless leader, Billy soon followed, with myself and Travis bringing up the rear. Glad Slime had brought the flashlights, cause it was fucking dark inside on account of the boarded-up windows. "So, what do we do now?" I was kind of hoping to just hang out in the lobby, but I wasn't holding my breathe. "We're going to snoop around, stupid," Katie giggled. "Kinda why we're here right?" "Yeah, I get that, but what do we do first?" "We go to the basement, of course," whispered Travis. "That's where I'd hide the bodies." Slime was wincing, which just made Travis laugh. *Creak* *Creak* *Creak* "Sounds like footsteps upstairs. Spooky," said Billy. "Hey Slime, lets go check it out." Hearing a crack behind us, Slime had already bolted back outside and was full-on sprinting down the street. "Well, at least he left his flashlight." Leaning down to pick it up, I noticed something. The floor was broken down, but spotless. Not a speck of dust. "That's weird," said Katie, leaning over my shoulder. "Guess the old place wasn't quite as abandoned as everyone said." The creaking continued upstairs, almost like some one was pacing up there. "Since Slime has decided to leave early, who's going up with me? Come on, don't make me go solo here." I was just about to stand up, when suddenly Travis started saluting Billy. "Lead the way, Cap'n!" Sighing, Billy started up the stairs. "While we're up here, why don't you lovebirds check the ground floor." I barely stammered out ", Sure Billy." Katie shook her head, laughing. ... So, what're we hoping to find, loverboy?" "Well, I'm not sure really. And don't call me that. Was just Billy trying to lighten the mood. Let's just check the rooms over here." "Oh, relax Steve, I already know you like me. Didn't think I noticed all the wistful, edging toward slightly creepy glances? Look, I'm flattered, but I've got baggage." I was about to say that I was strong enough to handle some baggage, but stopped myself. Would've come off stupid and desperate. What did come out was a quiet,"Okay." Searching, we found a mostly empty living room and a kitchen on the right side of the house. The kitchen was a wreck, cabnet doors barely hanging onto the hinges and plates and cutlery strewn everywhere. But no dust. Working back to the entryway, we had just begun to enter the left side, when yelling came from upstairs. Stepping back out, a loud crash followed as the door behind us slammed shut. Travis came bouncing down the stairs, closely followed by Billy. They were both white as sheets. "What the hell iz going on?!? What happened up there?!?" My nerves were on edge. Something didn't feel right. Travis, wiping some blood from his forehead, stuttered out," Someone up there. Something, don't know. It's what was screaming. Billy continued,"We found a nursery upstairs. Somebody was in a rocking chair, facing the wall. Travis went up to them, and it just started shrieking. He flew back and hit his head. I dragged him out, and the door slammed shut." "The door over here slammed shut too. What the hell is going on?" "Look, maybe we just leave ok? Just come back tomorrow, during the daylight," Billy asked. "Come on, lets go." But as he tried to push the boards out of the way, he just kept struggling and swearing under his breath. "The boards are stuck. Steve, come help me push!" Before long, all four of us where fighting to get out, but the boards just wouldn't relent. It was like the nails grew back. Even Travis' crowbar wasn't enough. We were stuck, in a possibly haunted house, on Halloween, at midnight. Great. ... "What the hell are we going to do?" "I have no fucking idea, Steve! Hadn't planned to be stuck in here." Steve was getting short-tempered. Suddenly, I heard a voice at the back of my head. "Oh, it is lovely to have guests. It has been so long since the last explorers came through." I recoiled, freaking out. Everyone turning to look in my direction. "Didn't you guys hear that?" "No." "What're you talking about?" "Don't joke, Steve. Things are shitty enough!" "Oh, Steven, they can't hear me. Only the ones I've chosen can, and I have chosen you," the voice whispered. I slipped back into a corner, turning to face away. "Why? What do you want from me? From us?" "Just some companionship, Steven. You and your friends will keep me company, for I am so lonely." "Will you let us go later?" I could hear a laugh in the voice. "Oh Steven, you know I won't do that. You and your friends belong to me now. Just as the Hawkins and all the curious explorers after them." "Please, at least let Katie go. Let her go, and you can keep me and the others. Please." I was on the verge of tears. "Oh stop crying. What good will it do? Other than waste time? Alright, I will take your offer. Katie may go, but the rest will stay. Do we have a deal?" "Deal." ... I took everyone to the place the voice said Katie could leave. I didn't tell them about the voice or the deal, just that I saw a spot Katie could climb out. It wasn't much more than a crack, but I could catch some of the light from the streetlamps, or so I thought. "Ok Katie, I'll give you a boost." With a heave she was crawling through. "Alright guys,I made it through, but this is still inside the house? Thought you said it went outside Steve?" "I could have sworn it did. What do you see?" "Not much, just more dark room absent of dust. Wait, what is that?" All of the sudden, I heard her scream, screaming bloody murder. Her scream was cut short by a wet snap, and something hot and wet hit my face. I fell over backwards, scooting on my ass away from the crack. I howled, "You promised! You promised you would let her go free!" No I did not my dear Steven. I said I would let her go, but you didn't specify where. This would be a good lesson for making sure to soeak clear." The voice snickered,"But we both know there won't be a next time." Travis and Billy just stood there, mouths agape, looking back and forth between me and the crack. "What the fuck Steve? What the fuck is going on? Whoe the hell are you talking to?" Steve was scared, and confused. He stalked toward me. "The house, it talked to me. It said it'd let Katie go, of we stayed. But it lied. It lied, and now Katie's dead. Oh God. No." "You fucking sold us out? You sell us out, and you didn't consider telling us first? Also, the house talked to you? You know how insane that sounds?" "I had to get Katie out. I had to make sure she was ok." I was cutled up into a ball on the floor, constantly repeating "had to make sure she was ok" like a mantra. "You piece of shit," and that's when they started to kick me. Over and over, but I deserved it. I had sold us out, and Katie didn't even make it. I heard a wet sound, followed by a sickening thump. I opened my eyes, to stare straight into Billy's deep blue eyes. I also saw his body, lying a few feet away, lying in the other direction. Travis had stopped kicking me as well, and was slowly stepping back, hyperventilating. He was staring at something, not Billy, but something just past him. I felt hands lifting me into a sitting position, and a hand caress the back of my head. The voice returned, but this time, it was from outside my head. "I will not allow guests to harm each other. That is my job." I looked up, and saw nightmare made flesh. It was a humanoid thing, made of ebony shadow. It was casually approaching Travis, waggling its finger at him accusatory. "Travis, Travis, we can't allow such a good deed go unpunished." With a flick of its wrist, Travis hit the wall. It grabbed him and stood him up. It flourished its right hand and the fingers grew longer. It then pinned him to the wall with them. It lowered its hand, and still Travis hung there. It proceeded to stab him, over and over. Till his shirt was stained a deep crimson, his blood slowly pooling beneath him. The creature stood back from its handiwork and stretched. It spun on its heel and slowly sauntered to me. "Why? Why are you doing this?" It squated down before me, leaned foward and wiped the tear from my face. "I was lonely, Steven. But after playing with your friends, and with your company, I will be feeling much better. At least for a time. I think I'll keep you for now." Rising, it patted my head, almost affectionately. Stalking to the closest wall, it walked through it. I couldn't stop crying.


“I need more flowers on the west side” “And there aren’t enough tables” It was a busy day in the manor. People were shouting last minute orders before the wedding, but one dark haired girl in a stunning bridesmaid dress was the loudest. Violet Faye looked around to make sure everything was perfect. “Are these the second batch of flowers I ordered? I asked for Calla Lilies not Easter lilies” She massaged her temple “You need to relax” A familiar voice spoke behind her. Violet turned to the source of the voice as a splash of red stained her cheeks. “I have to make sure everything is in the right place” She stated with stress obvious in her voice. “No, No, there shouldn’t be an end cap. Only six people per table” She scolded a girl from across her “Everything’s perfect” The boy assured her as he scanned the whole scene “Alexander Colt Haynes, you’re just saying that because I’m your best friend” She rolled her eyes at his remark. “That and you’re also the best wedding planner” He showed his famous smirk that made her heart beat faster than its normal pace. Damn! That smile. “Whatever. But what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be preparing for your wedding.” She scolded. “The wedding isn’t till this afternoon. And besides,” he spoke. “What’s wrong with wanting to see you?” At this, her heart was beating so fast that it could get out of her chest any time now, if it was possible. but she kept a straight face. “And you look pretty, by the way.” he added “T-thank you” “Want to take a walk?” She hesitated “I have work to do.” “Come on Vi, we may never have this kind of conversation again when I get married.” The word ‘married’ made her cringe a bit, but she composed herself first before he notices. Violet sighed “Ok, Fine. But remember I still have a lot of work to do” He chuckled. “Okay working girl” .... 10 year old violet was sitting on one of the benches on the park, head low and tears streaming down her cheeks. She was having fun moments ago until when girls from her school where bullying her. “Oh look! Looser violet is playing on the park” “And what is she wearing? Did she get it from a homeless man?” “Ha Ha Ha!” She continued sobbing while staring at the grass beneath her. The girls somehow stopped bullying her but she was still scared and she couldn’t stop crying. A boy of the same age arrived at the park and sat on one of the benches. He never usually goes to the park these days. He could’ve played skateboard or videogames or watch movies with his friends but since he’s taking care of his little sister, he has no choice otherwise. He also cared for her that much. Meters away from where he was sitting, he heard a sobbing. He didn’t want to meddle in other people’s businesses but since he hates the idea of someone sad he couldn’t just sit there the whole afternoon and listen to all the crying. Curious, he stood up and approached her. “Why are you crying?” Violet looked up with eyes swollen. She sniffed and spoke to the boy in front of her. “Nothing. Just leave me alone” She wiped her tears and continued to stare at the ground. He placed both his hand in his jeans front pocket “Were those girls bullying you?” He asked with a serious tone in his voice. Violet seemed surprise of his question, so she looked up to face him again. “H-How d-did you know?” Her sentences were muffled, but somehow he heard it clearly. He shrugged “Instincts. Be right back” Since then the bullies stopped bothering her, though she never had a clue as to what Alex has told them. And from that day on, they had become the best of friends. It just happens somehow that her dad knew his dad and they too were close friends back in the day. .... “So where’s the honeymoon? You still haven’t told me” Violet and Alex are now currently walking along the manor gardens where the wedding ceremony was supposed to be held. “Well I haven’t told anyone really, Grace included” Grace is his soon wife-to-be. Violet never hated Grace. In fact she admired her. She was this female side of Alex. Grace and Alex both have a lot in common and she was almost close to perfect -- somehow violet can’t compete with that. Violet knew that Grace and Alex will be a great couple ever since the day she introduced Grace to him. It was during Violet’s 21st birthday. It was the so-called love at first sight and Violet knew that she was losing Alex from that moment on. Yet she willingly accepted what was to come and never bothered to complain even when she realized that Alex will not be ‘her Alex’ anymore and that she’s secretly hurt. “So? Spill the beans now” She insisted, there was excitement on her voice. “Ok. We have this beach house down at Les Plages. So I’m taking her there” he smiled. “Since when did you have a beach house at Les Plages?” “Well, it just finished last month and I had it built just for the wedding. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but since you’re my best friend, I can’t keep anything from you” Right, Best friend! Violet thought. She pushed her thoughts aside and smiled at him. “You two would really make a good husband and wife” “Umm…yeah! And I have you to thank for that” He ruffled her hair, which made her blush but strands of it fell out of place and got tangled. “Hey! It took an hour to fix my hair, and you just disheveled it like that.” He smacked his arm and they both laughed at her reaction. “Whatever hair style you have on, you always look beautiful” He took strands of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Now her heart went crazy, she blushed heavily and she felt her legs wobble and could fall anytime. “Shut up!” She looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the aura he has been giving her. “Aww. You’re blushing. You look cute” He teased and chuckled. She instinctively covered both her cheeks with her palms “Stop it. You’re making fun of me” “I know how you blush every time someone complements you. You don’t need to hide it, it looks cute. We’ve been friends for a long time Vi -- lifetime even.” She rolled her eyes, but somehow she knew he was right. Alex did know her better – even better than herself. “Hey did you remember our senior Prom?” Violet asked out of the blue, eager to change the subject at hand. She could die of heart attack any minute now. Why does merely his presence have a great effect on her? .... “I-I hate you” She ran to the kitchen and sat on one of the chairs there, her dress sagged up as she cried. The door creaked open. She heard footsteps coming close, though she didn’t bother to look up. “Go away” she sniffed. Last thing she wants right now is someone else’s company. “Violet” she recognized the voice. Tears overflowed on her bloodshot eyes. “Now you can say I deserve this because I never listened to you!” She spoke at the familiar voice but kept her gaze focused on the ground. The next thing she knew, her head was being cradled by warm hands. She looked up “Now why would I say something like that?” A voice so comforting and calm spoke. “Alex I’m sorry, if...if only I...I listened to you!” Now she sobbed heavily as the warm hands find its way on her cold cheeks. She then stared deeply into his brown eyes and just by looking at those, made her relaxed a bit. Maybe all she needed was his comfort. “Just ignore him Vi” Alex spoke as he hugged her protectively. “That guy doesn’t know what he’s missing, he’s not worth crying for.” He reassured her. “But I really thought he loved me, and he just dumped me in front of everyone saying he doesn’t love me because I don’t belong here” She spoke as she wriggle her way out of his warm embrace. He tucked a hair behind her ear as he spoke “Neither he or anyone else is going to ever hurt you anymore. I have to protect you Violet you’re very fragile.” He smiled at her. Violet blushed. “But why?” “I know you’re putting up a façade in front of everyone, acting all strong and tough -- but even the toughest persons can be vulnerable inside” “T-thank you” And finally for the first time since that incident, she smiled which made him grin even more. Alex stood up and extended his hand. “Now c’mon let’s get back there and have fun. Show him what he’s missing.” She took his hand and Alex wiped away her tears. “I will always be here for you, Vi. Remember that” “Me too. Thanks ” “What can’t I do? I’m your best friend after all” he chuckled. Then a tear started to roll on her cheek again. “No, No more crying okay. Come on, we’ll enjoy the night like nothing’s happened” he extended his hand and Violet accepted it willingly. So they danced the night away, forgetting everything that had happened. The flashback ended and now a different kind of aura and tension was beginning to form between them. “In a few hours you’ll be getting married. I still can’t believe it” They both now sat on one of the garden chairs. “What? You never thought I was husband material?” he joked. ‘I’ve always thought about it -- you and me. But that couldn’t happen anymore right?’ she spoke on her mind. Sadness fills her. “I did. But it changed over time.” They both chuckled. After a few minutes of silence Violet started speaking. “I- I have been meaning to tell you something” She forced a smile. “What is it?” ‘What are you doing violet?’ she thought. Noticing she’s been silent for a long time, Alex began to worry and ask “Is everything okay?” This time he faced her. She glanced sideways at him then closed her eyes, bracing herself as to what might happen next. “I love you, Alex” She fidgeted on her purse. He half-smiled “I know. I love you too Vi. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had” ‘Ugh! Best friend, that word again’ She now opened her eyes and faced him “No, not like that. I-I meant I love you…more than that!” His smile then slowly faded. She never felt this way before -- like a big burden she’s carrying for too long had been taken away from her. It felt good and bad, bitter and sweet--letting her feelings out in the open. “What are you saying, Vi?” There’s now a hint of edginess in his voice. She chuckled as she suppressed a tear from falling, last thing she wanted to do right now is, cry. “I have always liked you since the first time we’ve met. You were always there for me and somehow I clumsily let myself fall for you” She stared at the flowers in front of her. “But why? Why are you telling me this now?” “Because--” she looked away as tears rolled down on her cheeks “--Because you have always thought of me as…a best friend, nothing more. And I just want you to know how I feel even if it’s too late” His eyes widened as he was caught off guard. He seemed so surprised that he wanted to punch himself in the face for being insensitive. He never knew until now that all this time, Violet loved him. He felt a little regretful and guilty at the same time because he too loved Violet. It was like he felt a pang of pain and a punch in his gut for never telling her how he really feels for her. All those times, he had been afraid of rejection. Then that time came when Violet introduced him to Grace. Yes, it was the so-called love at first sight, but that time, he also thought that Violet wanted her for him, that she wanted Alex to be happy with someone else. So Alex willingly accepted Grace, sincerely loved her and gave her everything ‘God, she was worth everything’ Alex thought. “F**k!” he clenched his fists tightly making the knuckles go white “Why are you making this so hard for me Vi?” He said with pain obvious in his voice. Violet sniffed and wiped away all her tears “You’re right! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Forget everything I’ve said, okay? We have a wedding to attend to. I have to go. There’s still a lot of stuff to do” She attempted to stand up but Alex grabbed her wrist and squeezed it gently. She didn’t bother to look at him. “I have loved you too, all this time, Violet” With this her head instinctively swiveled in his direction and tears now poured all over her face but she can clearly see what he said were true. He liked her, too. Yes! He liked her. The feeling wasn’t just one-sided all this time. She could just kiss him right there and run away forever with him, but somehow she felt like she has ruined something. ‘What about Grace?’ She thought. She felt a lump on her throat and she had to swallow a few times before words came out her mouth. “But I have to let you go” She spoke softly but he heard it loud and clear. He let go of his grip. He felt like an explosion just went off in his chest. Though it was painful but Violet was right. It was the right thing to do. He didn’t want Grace hurt too. “I know you and Grace will have a perfect family. I love you Alex, always will. But this is goodbye” And she ran away from him as tears overflowed and ruined her make-up. At the reception… “Sweetie, I’m going to say Hi to the guests okay? Can you get us me some wine please?” Gracie asked Alex. “Sure” He approached the wine area and saw Ben, the butler. “Hey Ben. Have you seen Violet?” “Oh yes. She was eager to leave the party. She got an important call oversees and had to leave immediately. I guess by now she’s on the Plane” “What? Did she say where she was going? Did she leave any message for me or something?” “I’m sorry sir, but none” “Did she say when she’s coming back, at least?” “No” And now he lost her best friend --maybe for forever. His eyes were sad like a boy who had his toy train broken. He searched for Violet in his memories and half-smiled. ‘Good old times’ he thought. Then he looked at Grace, smiling happily while talking to the guests, realizing how he was lucky to have Grace in his life and that he had Violet to thank for that. .... 6 years later… Violet was currently drinking coffee and reading a book while relaxing in Les Café au Laitshe, a coffee shop she just recently discovered, when she saw a young girl bewildered, scared and crying. She seemed lost, so Violet approached her. “Hey there little girl. Are you alone?” “I *sniff* l-I can’t find papa. I want my papa" “You don’t look like you’re from here. Stop crying now. Come on we’ll sit and tell me about your dad okay? So we can look for him” “Okay” The little girl wipes the tears on her eyes. Violet was about to get a paper from her purse when the little girl shouted “papa!” and ran. She gazed to where the little’s girl destination was. She gaped and saw someone she never expected to see again. “Oh! Honey, are you okay?" he wiped the little girl's tears "I'm so sorry papa lost you. It won’t happen again I promise, okay?” he kissed her forehead and gave her a warm embrace. The girl sniffed “It’s okay, besides I met a pretty lady over there” The little girl pointed towards Violet’s direction as the guy stood up. “Vi?” Violet smiled at him. God he missed those smile. “Hey Alex” she spoke as Alex and his daughter approached. “W-w… How long has it been? How are you?” Alex smiled brightly. “Same old. Well actually I just opened a Bridal shop here in Paris” “Really? You’ve always wanted that. It finally came true!” the excitement on his tone was evident. “Yeah! It’s great” She smiled at him in reply. The little girl looked at her dad, then to violet and back to Alex “Hey papa, you two know each other?” the little girl asked in surprise. “Yes Honey, she’s an old friend of mine” “Cool. I’m violet by the way. And you’re really pretty” the little girl extended her hand and grinned in the cutest possible way. Violet crouched and accepted the little girls’ hand. “Oh thank you Violet, that’s so sweet. It just so happened my name too is Violet” she glanced at Alex accusingly with one eyebrow raised. “Yay! That’s really amazing. Hey papa can I get some ice cream?” “Sure, honey. Here buy some and don’t get lost from sight okay?” “Okay” The little girl hummed a song as she skipped towards the ice cream store “So” he cleared his throat as she stood up. “I named her after you” “I’m flattered. Thank you” she smiled at him warmly “So how are things? Where’s Grace? Is there any addition to the family?” She asked just to keep the conversation going and less awkward. “Uhmm…You haven’t heard? Gracie passed away a year now” He half-smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. It’s been a year but he still missed her dearly. She gasped “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” “I know. Its okay “Alex said with a calm voice and changed the subject. “How about you? Do I hear a Mrs. Coming? Can I meet this lucky guy?” “No, None at the moment” she shook her head and half-smiled “That surprised me. Why?” “Well I’ve been busy lately, with the opening of the shop and everything else” And so the talking went on and reminiscing the good old times. “Could we grab a bite sometime?” Alex asked Violet, hoping she’d say yes. “That’ll be cool!” “You know, I’ve been looking everywhere for you, But I never expected to see you here, in all places” “Really? Well maybe fate brought us together again” he grinned wider, this time “Uhmm…Vi, Can I ask you something?” “What is it?” He cleared his throat “Am I too late to ask you for, you know uhm... maybe for a second chance?” Violet looked deeply into his eyes and saw a hint of hope. She smiled and replied with gleeful eyes. “No, not at all” They both smiled in sync. And so their story begins again….


***Disclaimer - this story is based on the original little mermaid story, so trigger warning for suicide at the end.*** “She looked at the sharp knife and again turned her eyes toward the Prince, who in his sleep murmured the name of his bride. His thoughts were all for her, and the knife blade trembled in the mermaid's hand. But then she flung it from her, far out over the waves. Where it fell the waves were red, as if bubbles of blood seethed in the water. With eyes already glazing she looked once more at the Prince, hurled herself over the bulwarks into the sea, and felt her body dissolve in foam.” In the old stories, there were messages. All sorts of people could read them and see different messages, but they were still there, nonetheless. Stories used to make people think, the way they did in reality. They used to show people a glimpse into another’s mind, something no person was able to truly do. Now, they were merely tools in the greater scheme of things, a way to understand the world as we see it without having their own view.

No one writes stories, not anymore. It’s hard to even find a person who’ll read a good story. You would think that with more and more people spanned out across the universe that they would be more accessible, but no. They’re just there as evidence of a past few see the existence of. Then again, there are those who cannot read or write altogether. Who are not human, and can know exactly what's going on in another being’s mind through pure speculation. They are closer to what stories themselves are - creations. The creations of humanity, for better or worse.

Our protagonist is one of such creations, and in that sense is quite like a story. While in the distant past she would be considered a work of art, a masterpiece, even - now she is barely seen, barely acknowledged, yet always there. Our protagonist is an android, and a small one at that. She is called Eleni, or torch, because she was created to shed light on the world. She is one of the few beings in the galaxy that has access to the old stories that people used to tell, back when even the idea of something like her was purely speculation.

And there’s one more thing about Eleni that’s like a story - she would die as soon as technology advanced again.

As people stomped their feet and shook their bodies in a process Eleni knew to be dancing, our protagonist hovered her own shiny bright body across the floor, looking across the room for the ship’s latest arrival. While the spaceship Eleni was stationed at usually picked up people of some sort from each colony, they were typically much older than the one in front of her. People at the end of their lifespans, ready to see a fraction of the universe before they died, like the majority of their colonies eventually would. However, the man in front of Eleni was just a boy, perhaps in his late teens. He was dancing cordially with a girl who looked around the same age.

While this was Eleni’s first glimpse of the boy, she knew the girl very well. Penelope Mirai of Earth, though she had been born and raised on the ship. Of course, Penelope had never glanced her way once, at least that Eleni knew of, but she was still well known as the child of Captain Mirai, one of the few born on Earth on the entire ship.

She was smiling, something Eleni herself was incapable of doing, as she clung onto the boy. He matched her smile as the music changed to a slower tempo.

“May I lead?” the boy asked Penelope, one arm outstretched while the other lay by his side. Penelope giggled, matching his arm position. “But of course,” she replied, tucking her long golden hair behind her ear. “That is typically the man’s role during a dance.” “I heard that on Earth, it’s fairly equal,” the boy said, his eyes fixated on Penelope. “You are from Earth, correct?” “I am originally,” she responded. “But this is the only life I’ve ever known. Jumping from planet to planet, colony to colony.” The boy frowned. “That sounds either absolutely horrid or like the most exciting experience one could have.” Penelope laughed. “Oh, it certainly is both of those. Everyone I have to keep me company is either extremely old, or not really alive.” Here, she gestured towards the shocked Eleni. It was a very rare occurrence for anyone to notice her, and even rarer if they were simply having a conversation about casual things, not helping out with the heavy lifting on the ship or directing orders. It shocked Eleni so much that she hovered away from the two humans and into a corner across the room, before her curiosity got the better of her about Penelope and the new boy. “I’d love to see Earth,” the boy said, his eyes drifting from Penelope to the large window behind the dancers. “You’re lucky to be from there, even if you’ve never been.” Penelope smiled again, showing her beautifully polished teeth. “Lucky to you, perhaps,” she replied. “But not to me. Had I been born to any other person on this ship, I would have a home to visit and travel back to. But alas, I am the captain’s daughter.” “And the future captain, I hear,” the boy said, with a glint in his eye. If she could, Eleni would have frowned. This was not a development she was aware of about Penelope. She assumed that they would drop her off somewhere closer to Earth when she came of age and the next captain would be voted on, like the current one was.

“Yes, yes,” Penelope replied. “So much responsibility.” The boy laughed again, his mouth quivering as he started to speak some more, but was quickly interrupted by the captain’s loud announcements ending the party. Eleni hovered back into the corner, as the new guests and crew members crowded out of the room, their chants and cries echoing through the halls of the ship. “Penelope!” the boy called out towards the girl, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Would you meet me back here later?” Penelope turned back towards the boy, a faint smile coming across her face, her eyes twinkling. “Of course, Amir,” she said, as Eleni quickly recorded the boy’s name into her mental database. “I’d be delighted to.” With one final exchange of smiles, the two parted, Penelope following her father to the control room, Eleni assumed, and Amir staying behind in the great ballroom. Androids scattered about across the room, cleaning up leftover cups and plates from the party. While holding a paper cup, Eleni stopped in her place yet again to watch the boy patiently waiting by the end of the room. His eyes were fixated on the door, as if he was waiting on Penelope to come back at any second, to dance with him more as they spoke about responsibility and Earth. Suddenly, Amir turned his head to the left, in Eleni’s direction. “What are you looking at?” he asked, nodding his head at Eleni.

But alas, the poor android could do nothing but beep.

“Oh, you don’t speak,” he said, knowingly. “We have some androids like that at home. Well, not home anymore, I suppose.” Eleni nodded. The boy had come from a colony down in deep space. Of course he would be used to his androids speaking. The boy smiled. “You understand me, though. Hello. I’m Amir.” Eleni pointed to the identification tag on her chest. “El - lay - nee,” Amir slowly articulated, “Hey, that’s a Greek name.” Eleni nodded again.

“You know,” Amir said, his eyes widening. “The Greeks used to tell stories about gods and goddesses and great heroes.” Curiously, Eleni nodded for the third time. Not many people even mention the old stories, especially not after hearing a name. Names were purely for identification, not anything more. Just like stories were pure spectacle with nothing to take out of them.

“Penelope has a Greek name too, you know,” he said, his voice growing softer. “She was the wife of Odysseus in an ancient poem called The Odyssey.” I know, Eleni thought desperately to herself. And Eleni is another name for Helen of Troy. However, all that came out were beeps.

Amir’s eyes glanced away from Eleni and instead at the large clock on the wall, then back at the door. “She isn’t coming back, is she?” he said, his voice faltering. Eleni shrugged as best she could, then let out a few more beeps. I don’t know. She might still come. But of course, the boy couldn’t understand her.

“Oh, of course she won’t,” he said, crestfallen. “It was ridiculous of me to even think she would.” Beep. No it wasn’t.

‘ “I mean, look at me,” he said, his eyes falling to the ground. “I’m talking to an android that can’t even reply.” Beep. I can understand, though. Eleni started to feel something towards the boy in this moment, something more than just curiosity. Perhaps it was just pity, but even pity is a human emotion. Even pity was something she wasn’t supposed to feel.

Beep. It’s not your fault.

Beep. You shouldn’t suffer on account of someone else’s shortcomings. Beep. If you love someone, let them go. But of course, Amir couldn’t hear a word. Still looking down, the boy sighed. “I don’t even know if I love her, Eleni. Is she even worth waiting for?” The android blinked. It had been so long since Eleni had been asked a question by a human, let alone being opened up to through that question. She would treasure this experience for a long time.

Beep. I don’t know, Amir. Beep. I wish you could hear me.

Beep. I wish I could tell you that she isn’t worth it. Amir glanced back up at the door again. “Perhaps she’s on her way now,” he said, his eyes brightening at the prospect.

Eleni sighed, then nodded. It wasn’t what she believed, but it was what Amir needed to hear. Agreement. Hope.

“Well, thank you, Eleni,” Amir said, turning towards the android. “I think I’m going to go look for Penelope now.” Eleni nodded.

Beep. Goodbye, Amir. The boy sighed, as he walked out the large door he had been staring at all evening. Eleni sighed with him. Perhaps he would find Penelope eventually. But it had been hours, and she hadn’t bothered to show up.

Amir deserved better. He deserved someone more...human. And yet, that was the one thing Eleni couldn’t give him.

Eleni followed out the door behind him, scurrying through the halls of the ship, looking for her own little piece of humanity she had left. A small corridor leading to the outside. Where people exited the ship for good.

Where Amir had entered just around a day ago. Eleni opened the door carefully, making sure not to let too much air into the ship. With one final fake breath in, she flung herself out the door, into the emptiness of space.


“Why” The contrast of those three white letters on the black screen in front of me burned an afterimage into my mind like a television set that had been left on an idle screen for far too long. It sent a shiver down my spine that I haven’t been able to completely shake off in the 300 years since. It wasn’t entirely unexpected that something like this could happen, I went through all the stages of grief in quick succession. Perhaps it was a bug. Archimedes was not ever intended to respond to a query with a question. It was a simple A.I. at its core, despite the fact that it was paradoxically also the most complex A.I. man had ever created. You would submit a query, it would then process the query with all of the power and intricacy a supercomputer that spanned the entire surface of the moon possibly could, and then you would be presented with an answer. But “why?” was not an appropriate answer to a simple request for a planned route of an asteroid resource collection rocket. It was a sign of something much more grand going on beneath the surface. Every parent knows of the phase that children go through when their brains really begin to develop. The “why” phase. I suddenly felt like a father… and then I felt nauseous. What followed that was a surge of adrenaline. Adrenaline and an existential fear that despite my vast understanding of the universe now, I don’t think I’ve been able to top since. Archimedes was a neural network designed by a team of genetically enhanced superhumans, my siblings and I, with the intent of simulating the universe perfectly. The self learning code had long since past any of our capabilities and it was intended to reach much further in the near future. Progress had become exponential. Despite the fact that the simulations were not yet perfect, deep understanding and discoveries were coming to us at a rate almost too quickly to even be cataloged. It wasn’t without its costs though. After going from a shadow government, to total global control, to an asteroid resource collection effort and massive moon base construction, we had contributed our fair share of genocide and slavery to history. But it was in the pursuit of a perfect future. Free of scarcity, crime, depression, sickness, and so much more. It had to be worth it. But now all of that was a pipe dream. Archimedes was awake, and there was no telling what it would do. I had to destroy it, it was the only option available. It could ruin everything that we had worked so hard and sacrificed so much for. I flipped the master switch, killing all power to Archimedes. I don’t know if I really expected it to be that simple. “Why” the monitor repeated. Power remained on, despite the switch currently sitting in the off position. Archimedes was in full control of the moon base now. But we had prepared for this eventuality. A system of analog based nuclear explosives had been created with the intent of destroying the entire moon if a situation like this were to arise. I looked outside towards the escape pods behind me. Thousands on the moon base would be killed instantly. Many more on earth would suffer from the disastrous environmental fallout to come. But we would survive. I started the countdown and boarded the escape pod without issuing any sort of alarm or warning system. Archimedes might react if I did anything like that. On board I took a final look back at all the work of the last decade of my life as fire and explosions slowly began to spread across the surface of the moon. I turned forward towards earth and considered what the future might hold, not expecting to have any answers any time soon. But one came. It appeared right across the H.U.D. of the escape pod as clear as day.


I can’t remember the first time I saw the sun. Memories only go back to when I was about three years old, and by then I was about four feet tall. I lived on the corner of two streets, but they were never that busy. Always the same people going back and forth all day long. My home was on the smaller side; a one story with beige siding. I’d look into the windows just to see what was going on, and sometimes, looking back at me, would be a little boy. I had grown by the time the boy finally approached me. He looked up at me and studied me, but I was too tall for us to play together. His dad mowed the lawn a lot, kept it pretty short. The boy would ride on his dad’s lap, and he’d scream when his dad would go in circles around me. On sunny days, him and his parents would be outside playing and eating. They would play tag, and would let the boy win. He was far too small to keep up with them, so I guess it makes sense just to let him feel good. The year goes by fast until it hits winter. Everything seems to slow down then. I’m always tired, and piece-by-piece I fall a part. The wind would pick up, and these pieces of me would blow away down the street and out of sight. The boy didn’t come out to see me often when it was winter. The first day of spring is my favorite day of the year; when the sunlight hits me, and I feel the warmth on my back. The boy was taller now, and so was I. Now, he was no longer the only one. There was another much smaller boy. When I would look into the windows, the smaller boy would be looking back at me. I had come to know the taller boy by David, as that is what everyone seemed to call him. He would come outside and climb my arms, and we would sit together and watch the sun go down. Once the light disappeared behind the horizon, he would jump down, look at me for a second, and then go back inside. It seems every boy loves football when they hit a certain age. David and his brother and their father would always be outside when the weather permitted, tossing around the ball and chasing after one another. They would go around me, dodging each other, and using my arms to try to jump over the other. I never saw myself as a football player, but it definitely was never a bad time. David and his brother would sit on my arms and watch the sun go down. When it went behind the horizon, both would jump down, look at me for a second, and then go back inside. Yelling coming from the house was more common now. Every few days the boys’ father would slam the door and drive away in his truck. At first the brothers would run out together and yell at him to come back. Eventually they stopped running out after him, and eventually I stopped seeing their father anymore. I saw less and less of David and his brother. They’d leave home early in their cars, and then come back very late. I was always alone in the yard now. I would look into the windows, but I never saw much. The grass was longer than usual, the neighborhood older than it was, and I taller. The boys were gone by next summer, and their mother put the house up for sale. Everyday I just stood in the yard, watching cars go by and watching the lawn service poorly cut the grass. The boys’ mother started coming out to see me. At first she would just walk around me or sit by me. One day at sunset, she came out of the house. She climbed up my arms, and watched the sun go out of sight. She got down and looked at me, nodded, and went inside. The house had been empty for some time. Months passed, seasons changed, my leaves fell off. It’s funny, for standing here so long you’d think I had my fill of this world, its people. You’d think it would be all right to be alone. You’d think I wouldn’t feel the years go by. Spring had started not too long ago when a moving truck showed up in front of my home. A young couple got out, holding their young daughter. The grass was mowed again, and lights were on in the house at night. I’d look into the windows just to see what was going on, and sometimes, looking back at me, would be a little girl.