I hate airports. It’s all too much—the enormous lines, the crush of people, and the tangible stress of schedules hanging in the balance. Nevertheless, I make every effort to see my parents since that is the one thing I truly love. Today is no different, except for the uncomfortable tug in my chest as I approach security. "Please remove any metal items," the security officer's voice cuts through the noise. I bite my lip, hesitating as my hand reaches for my wrist. The bracelet, L'œil de Sainte Lucie , has been my constant companion for over five years. I rarely remove it. Originating from Corsica, legend has it that it is more than just a piece of jewelry—it is protection, guarding me against the misfortunes of the world. Whenever I removed it in the past, something bad always happened. But this is airport security. I don’t have a choice. Reluctantly, I unclasp it, running my fingertips over the smooth shell before putting it into the gray basket along with my phone and suitcase. I pass through the scanner, glancing nervously back at the basket. After gathering my things, I reach inside for the bracelet, only to find nothing there. I feel my heart sink to my stomach. I look once more, rummaging in the basket. "No, no, no," I mutter under my breath, lifting each item in a frantic search. My bracelet is gone. I turn to face the security officer. "Excuse me," I murmur in a tense voice. "Did you see a bracelet? It was in this tray." The officer gives me a sidelong glance. "Everything that came through should be in your basket." "Well, it’s not." My voice has a hint of panic. "It's a little bracelet with a silver clasp and a white shell. I just put it in here." The cop, clearly used to stressed-out travelers, sighs. "It could have been misplaced if it's not in the tray. Check the lost and found area."

"But—" I swallow hard, trying to maintain my composure. "It was right here. Can’t you check the cameras or ask someone if they saw it?" "Ma'am, there’s a line behind you. If it turns up, we'll let you know. You can check with the information desk in the meantime." The officer motions for me to move along. For a moment, I wanted to argue some more, but I had little option given the growing line of passengers behind me. I move to the side, my heart pounding in my chest. Where could it have gone? Did someone take it? My gut twists at the thought. I look around, my eyes darting from passenger to passenger, wondering if someone had taken my bracelet. *** By the time I reach the counter, my nerves are shot. “Please tell me you’ve found a bracelet,” I say, clutching the edge of the desk. “It’s a white shell bracelet with a silver clasp. It’s very important.” The woman behind the counter glances at a stack of lost items and slowly shakes her head. “Sorry, nothing like that has come through today.” My heart sinks. I thank the woman and turn away, gripping my suitcase tightly. My head throbs with worry. Without that bracelet, I feel exposed and vulnerable. And even though it's only been a few hours, it feels like a lifetime. This is the longest I've gone without wearing my bracelet. The gaping hole in my arm seems like an obtrusive emptiness, a continual reminder that my protection is gone. Time crawls agonizingly, with each minute seeming to stretch into days. My mind races, thinking of all the horrible things that may happen while I'm without it. Paranoia swirls through my head as I walk away from the counter. What if someone took it? What if the security officer pocketed it when I wasn’t looking? Or maybe the person who passed through security just before me? I'm unable to let it go. It didn't make sense for the bracelet to just vanish into thin air. My gaze lands on a man with a large jacket pocket near the seating area. Could he have it? I march over, my voice trembling but determined. “Excuse me,” I say, trying to sound calm. “Did you happen to see a bracelet in security? A small white shell bracelet with a silver clasp?” The man blinks at me, startled by my sudden approach. “Uh, no? I didn’t see anything like that.” I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure? It was right there, and now it’s gone. You passed through security right before me, didn’t you?” The man shifts uncomfortably, glancing around as if looking for an escape. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t take your bracelet.”

“Can I check your pocket, then?” I blurt out, my suspicion outweighing my manners. “If you’re innocent, you won’t mind proving it.” His face reddens, and he takes a step back, clearly offended. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. What’s your problem anyway? You think you can just accuse anyone?” “I’m not accusing,” I snap, though I can hear the desperation in my voice. “I just need to know. That bracelet is important to me, and it’s gone, and you were right there—” He raises his hands defensively. “Look, I didn’t take your bracelet, okay? Back off before I call security.” He brushes past me, leaving me standing there and feeling a growing sense of embarrassment. I take a deep breath, but my suspicion only grows. I spot another woman, a young mother struggling to keep her child calm. Maybe she took it when I wasn’t paying attention. “Excuse me,” I say, my voice tense. “I know this might sound strange, but did you happen to pick up a bracelet by mistake in the security line?” The woman looks up, flustered and already stressed with her crying child. “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry. I have my hands full here.” Her tone is sharp, irritated by the accusation. I press on, my voice desperate. “Please, just check. It’s really important, and I’m sure I had it before I went through security.” Her eyes flash with irritation. “Do you seriously think I’d steal your bracelet while I’m trying to handle my child? You think I have time for that?” “I’m not saying you stole it,” I stammer, taken aback by her anger. “I just… Maybe it got mixed up with your things. Can you at least check?” She glares at me, the baby crying louder in her arms. “I said no! I don’t have your bracelet, and I don’t appreciate being accused. Now, please, leave me alone!” I mumble an apology, retreating as heat flushes my cheeks. Now I'm just making a fool of myself. But my mind refuses to stop racing and obsessing about the possibility that someone has stolen my precious bracelet. Frustration clouds my judgment, and my rage begins to boil over. I start glancing around, eyeing everyone like a potential thief, my stress escalating. *** On my way to a café to get some water after running around for so long, I am nearly knocked over by a rushing passenger. I stumble, catching myself just in time but twisting my ankle in the process. "Ow!" I gasp, leaning on a nearby table. "This can’t be real…" Determined not to give in to superstition, I limp to the café. Just as I reach the counter, another passenger crashes into me, spilling a large cup of iced coffee all over my shirt. "Are you kidding me?" I groan, wiping futilely at the dark stain spreading across my chest. The man apologizes repeatedly, but it does nothing to quell my growing frustration. I find a bathroom and attempt to clean myself up, but my shirt is ruined. With a heavy sigh, I lean against the sink and look into the mirror. My hair is a mess, my ankle hurts, and my clothes are covered in coffee stains—all because I lost my bracelet. No, because someone has stolen it. I narrow my eyes as I think about the security officer who had been watching me closely. I can’t shake the feeling that he had taken it. Perhaps he was pocketing items from distracted passengers. Fueled by suspicion, I limp back to security and find the officer who checked my basket. "I need to speak to someone about my bracelet," I demand. The officer raises an eyebrow. "Ma'am, we've already checked. If it’s gone, there’s nothing we can do. Please, take it up with lost and found." I open my mouth to argue but stop short when a hand lands firmly on my shoulder. I turn around to find a stern officer staring down at me. "Miss, we've received complaints that you've been bothering other passengers," he says, "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." My heart sinks. "But my bracelet—" "Let's discuss it in a more appropriate setting," he interrupts, directing me to a small office off to the side. The room is cramped, with white walls and a single desk overflowing with paperwork. As we enter, a second officer, most likely the police chief, sits behind the desk, looking displeased. "What's the issue here?" he asks, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "My bracelet is missing," I say, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "It must have been stolen. I've been trying to find it, but no one is helping me." The director leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "And that gives you the right to harass other passengers? Do you realize the trouble you're causing here?" "I'm not trying to cause trouble," I argue, feeling my frustration bubble over. "That bracelet is important to me. I know someone took it, and I can't just let it go." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with my reasoning. "Ma'am, I understand you're upset, but you can't go around accusing people without evidence. This is an airport, not a crime scene." My chest tightens as I realize how hopeless this situation has become. "Please, you have to help me. Just check with security one more time, or check the cameras—anything!" The director stares at me for a moment, then reaches for the phone on his desk. "Fine. I'll make one more call, but if they haven't found anything, that's it." He dials a number and speaks briefly with someone on the other end. My heart races as I listen, but the answer remains the same: nothing has been found. "Your flight is about to board," he says, hanging up the phone. "I suggest you head to your gate and stop bothering people, or we'll have to take further action." I nod numbly, feeling utterly defeated. "Thank you," I mutter before turning to leave. I can barely keep the tears from falling as I walk away, my feet dragging toward the gate. All hope feels lost—until, midway to the gate, I hear someone call out behind me. "Miss, wait!" I turn around to see another officer hurrying toward me, holding something small and shiny in his palm. "Is this what you were looking for?" he asks, holding out my bracelet. I gasp, relief coursing through my veins as I take it from him, my fingers trembling. "Yes! Oh, God, thank you! "Where did you find it?" "It had fallen behind the X-ray machine," he explains with a smile. "One of the maintenance crew found it while cleaning." Tears of relief prick my eyes as I fasten it back onto my wrist. "Thank you so much," I breathe, overwhelmed with gratitude.

As I walk away, bracelet secure on my wrist, I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events lift off my shoulders. Everything that had gone wrong seemed to vanish into the background. Maybe it was all a coincidence, or maybe the bracelet really did protect me. Either way, I have no intention of taking it off any time soon. I smile softly to myself as I make my way toward my gate. Whatever awaits me on the other side of my journey, I will be ready.


In the vibrant village of Nakawuka lived a hardworking, shy, and naïve girl named Malaika. She greeted everyone and played with the children she met. Each morning, she hummed songs while gathering firewood for her beloved grandmother. Daily, she found neatly stacked firewood and a basket of fruits accompanied by a note filled with compliments and encouragement. One day, intrigued by the gifts, she followed a path to a charming homestead, only to be startled by a man named Tembo, who tapped her on the back, causing her to faint. Tembo looked at the unconscious girl, uncertain about what to do as night fell and it was his first time alone with a girl. Concerned for Malaika's safety, he recalled how her father had accidentally died at his own father's hands. Tembo thought to himself that history shouldn't repeat itself, so he quickly devised a plan to help Malaika recover. Though he had spent most of his time alone since his father's death, Tembo was a hardworking and handsome man who would never harm anyone; he was just trapped by his past. He vowed to protect Malaika for as long as he lived, even from a distance, believing it was his way of atoning for her father's accidental death. He hoped that one-day circumstances would change and that Malaika might understand, moving beyond the past. But only time will tell. He brought her into his home to care for her. When Malaika regained consciousness, she worried about her grandmother, but Tembo convinced her to stay until morning and offered to walk her home. Although she was raised not to spend nights with strangers, she agreed to stay at Tembo's house, struggling internally with the decision. Despite her discomfort, she felt an unusual ease around him, as if she had known him forever. "You’re quiet," Tembo interrupted her thoughts during their meal. "Don't be afraid of me; I'm just making sure you're safe." Malaika then asked if he knew who was leaving her the gifts, but he hesitated to share his feelings and identity. Tembo secretly admired Malaika and had been helping her as a way to express his love. However, he was haunted by a dark past involving her father's death. Malaika sensed his turmoil and tried to comfort him, unaware of their connection. She asked about his family, but Tembo preferred to enjoy the moment without revisiting painful memories. He asked, "Do you believe in fate?" Malaika replied, "To some extent, yes. For example, I was searching for the good Samaritan who has been helping me, and here I am stuck with you." They both smiled, and Tembo continued, stating that fate often comes with obstacles. Malaika agreed, adding that life should be fully enjoyed without fear, like free birds. Tembo then asked what she would change if she had control over life. Malaika nostalgically said she would bring back her parents, who left her with her grandmother at a young age. She shared that her father died under mysterious circumstances, and her mother succumbed to depression shortly after. Tembo felt uncomfortable but couldn’t confess that his father was responsible for her father's death. He feared never seeing her again, but guilt weighed heavily on him. When Malaika noticed his silence, she asked if he was okay. He replied, "Yes, your story is touching." He inquired if her family had sought answers about her father's death, and she explained that her father’s demise stemmed from a failed deal with a friend. Malaika then asked Tembo about his parents. He revealed he never met his mother and lost his father after a long illness. Realizing it was late, they decided to rest before heading to Malaika’s home. She worried about how to explain her absence to her grandmother. That night, Tembo had nightmares, murmuring about needing to apologize to Malaika's family. Malaika, hearing his distress, brought him water and comforted him before they fell asleep again. The next morning, Tembo prepared tea before they set off for Malaika’s home. On the way, she asked about his nightmare, but he lacked the courage to share his story. Instead, he asked if she would still be friends if she learned something bad about him. Malaika was taken aback but replied that they would remain friends, as everyone makes mistakes. This only deepened Tembo's internal struggle; he felt torn about keeping such a significant secret from her. As they walked and shared childhood memories, they reached the spot where the incident had occurred years ago. Tembo could no longer contain his anxiety and told Malaika he had something to confess. She joked that she had noticed he was troubled. He revealed that he had been the one leaving the firewood and fruits for her. Malaika paused, joyfully admitting she suspected him because his was the only house nearby. Tembo then confessed his feelings for her, saying he had been drawn to her voice for some time. This made Malaika blush; she had liked him from the start, and his character only deepened her affection. A comfortable silence enveloped them, filled with unspoken emotions. Out of the blue, Tembo told Malaika about a traumatic incident from his childhood involving a loved one that still burdens him and disrupts his life. Malaika, feeling pity, encouraged him to share his pain with someone. He looked into her eyes and replied, “Let’s get going. Your grandmother must be worried.” As they walked closer to the village, he took her hand. Near her home, Tembo said, “You are a wonderful and beautiful girl. I hope to be good enough for you, and I pray we meet again as better people. Take care of yourself.” Puzzled by his words, Malaika asked if he was going on a journey, but he shook his head, hugged her, and said goodbye. She called out his name as he ran away, hugging him one last time and asking if she would see him again. He agreed and told her, “Run, don’t keep Granny waiting.” They smiled at each other and parted ways, each with unanswered questions.


“You are going to die today if you don’t do this right. And I mean literally.” “I know,” I squeeze out between clenched teeth. I pull the arrow as far as I possibly can without breaking the bow’s string and aim. My fingers let go of the arrow. It lands a few inches away from the centre of the target. I curse. ****** It’s my WWL today. Who Wins Lives. I’ve been training for this day for the entirety of my life. To ensure that I have a life after WWL. Quite simply, whoever wins, lives. The title should have been Who Loses Dies. That is a more accurate way of explaining it. If I don’t win, they’ll kill me. This is a necessary annual ritual in which every seventeen-year-old in Lakeshore must compete in, consisting of a written test, archery, and a sword fight. This year, there are only two participants. Me and Douglas. Doug. My ex. Why ex, you ask? We were forbidden from seeing each other when our families found out that we were the same age. Oh no, not because they knew one of us would die and it would break the other’s heart. It was because we might reveal strategies to each other by accident. Yeah, I know, real sweet of them. Right now, I’m practising my archery. Let’s just say it’s not going too well. Christina is getting increasingly worried, as I miss every target, my hands and eyes unable to coordinate. “I can’t lose you today Catarina, please try to concentrate.” “I’m trying, for god sake!” I yell, and this time the arrow hits the target. “Bullseye.” ****** I enter the arena, Christina and Mother flanking me on my sides. Mother’s face is worn out, greying hair visibly appearing at her temples. She can’t lose another child. She just started healing from the pain of losing Cassandra. So, I need to win, for my mother’s sake. But I can’t let Doug die either, now can I? So, who do I choose, lover or mother? ****** “Residents of Lakeshore, welcome to the six hundredth edition of Who Wins Lives! This is a groundbreaking idea which was suggested by the scientists of the Future Life committee to ensure that the population consists of only the best individuals. Only the smartest, most focused and brave individuals will remain in society and will be able to contribute to its growth. No one else deserves to live.” “All these people in the arena today have successfully passed this ritual, which is why they were able to continue their lives and bring in the next generation.” “Our first participant for today is Catarina Maria, daughter of Victoria Maria!” I get up from my seat and walk towards my assigned spot. I think I’m going to throw up. “Going against her is Douglas Jackson, son of Genevieve Jackson!” Doug walks from the other end of the arena and flashes me a smile. I smile back painfully. He stands next to me, and I feel my stomach start to hurt. I don’t want to die today. But I don’t want him to die either. Feeling him so close to me makes me want to pounce on him, but I restrain myself by thinking about WWL. The nausea returns. ****** Writing a test may seem daunting by itself but having to do in the middle of an arena with an entire town noting your every move is a very different experience. The test consists of questions about responding to real-life situations and some about archery and sword fighting. It’s a pretty simple and straightforward test, with both of us acing it and passing with full points. Now, archery. The targets begin to move around, and my fingers fumble trying to reach for the arrow. By the time I get one arrow out, Doug has already shot three of his targets, hitting the centre each time. He looks at me and smirks, and then his smirk disappears all of a sudden. Now his expression becomes decisive as if he’s figured something out. I shoot at my targets, still confused at his immediate mood change. He slows down his shooting, on purpose. He thinks I was trying to let him win. Now he’s trying to let me win. He doesn’t realise the simple fact that I’m terrible at archery. Now I’ll show him. Both of our movements slow down. I take my time to reach for another arrow, and then drop it on the ground. Then when I pick it up, it slips from my fingers once again. Oops. Then he does the same thing. “ENOUGH!” We stop our movements, looking up at Mayor Connery, his voice still echoing through the arena. “I think we’ve had enough of archery.” “But who’s the winner?” I quip sweetly. “It’s a tie.” What? A tie? That means that everything depends on the sword fight now. I look at Doug and regret it immediately. He smiles at me in assurance, and I know what that means. He’s going to let me win. ****** The clang of metal against metal. The feel of dirt under my bare feet. The sweat running down my back as I push my hair out of my face. Doug is being lazy with his blows, letting me swing at him, but never letting me touch him. We keep fighting, none of us touching the other, even when we leave a side exposed. The fight lasts for a long time, none of us ready to let the other die. I’m about ready to collapse. The sweat blurs my vision, and my surroundings start to blackout. Doug senses this and discards his sword. He catches me right before I fall. My head lolls backward, and I can barely make out his face. I hear sounds in the background, people shouting, the mayor trying to calm them down, and asking us to continue the fight. Doug slowly lowers me to the ground, placing my head on his lap. I slowly open my eyes when I feel water being sprinkled on my face. I’m met with Doug’s tired face, immediately relaxing when I regain consciousness. “I think we’ve seen enough.” I crane my head upward and see Mayor Connery standing at the podium, his wig looking tousled. “Today’s WWL has proven that sometimes there are no winners. Sometimes there are only losers. Sometimes everyone deserves to die because no one deserves to live.” Doug helps me up, holding my hip for support. I’m unable to wrap my head around what he just said. Did he mean that both of us…? “Since today’s WWL has been inconclusive, and the participants seem to be unable to understand the rules, both Catarina and Douglas will die today.” “Our future will be much brighter without them.” ****** We hear two cries emanate from two women, Mom and Genevieve. I almost slump to the ground again but stop myself for Doug’s sake. I can’t become weak again, especially at a time like this. Dark clothed men leave the mayor’s side and walk towards us with handcuffs. I quickly look around, trying to find an escape route. But I’m too late. A man is pulling my hands together, fingers digging into my arms. The click of the handcuffs closing is followed by a rough push in the general direction of the guillotine. I fall to the ground, Doug falling next to me, both of us helpless. We’re kicked and shoved, our wrists bleeding by the time we reach the podium. “No! Please don’t do this!” The men don’t listen to my pleas as they position my head under the blade, the basket placed right under my head, ready to bear its weight. I hear Doug resisting, and he finally breaks free of the men who were holding him. “Kill me first!” “No, kill me!” Then the people started shouting too, some taking Doug’s side, some taking mine. People I’ve grown up seeing every day, people who I’ve borrowed bread from, people who’ve loved me and blessed me like their own daughter, some of them in favour of my death. Tears start running down my face. I limp my way towards the podium. “STOP!” Dead silence. “Can’t you see what’s happening? The goal of Future Life has been achieved. They claim to be doing this for our benefit, but what good has come out of it? I considered all of you my family. I loved you like my own. I’m sure Doug did as well. Today you are arguing on which one of your children to kill first.” “I understand the sentiment behind this initiative of our wonderful scientists, population control and all, but what about love? What about all the experiences that we get to miss because of this stupid WWL? What about the people we can’t meet and the places we can’t go?” “You claim to be making the future better, but you’re just making it lonelier.” Dead silence still. Then I hear a cheer. Christina is on her feet, cheering and clapping. Mother starts cheering too, wiping off tears. Slowly, more people begin to cheer. The entire town is cheering now. All of them do love me. They just needed to be reminded. A few boys attack the mayor’s men and free me and Doug from the handcuffs. I rub my wrists, feeling the pain but not feeling it too much. I kiss Doug, finally feeling happy again. “From now on, no more Who Wins Lives.” “We are going to live our own lives, without having it taken away.” “From now on, Who Loves Lives.” ******


Shock rumbles through her mind, she pictures the explosion of an atomic bomb the mushroom cloud rising high in the air, swelling, SWElling, SWELLING! Until it reaches maximum capacity and the shards of her perfectly planned life fall down round her. She holds the plastic tester in her hand and stares at the two thin red lines. Those two little thin red lines mock her; say goodbye to the career you’ve worked so hard to achieve, goodbye to the boyfriend, which said he wanted no strings attached. Strings! Those two red lines were ropes not strings. NO WAY! She was the conductor of her life and those two red lines were going to be erased from her symphony. *********************************** An hour later she learned that there was no where in the city of Leeds to get an abortion, actually the state of Alabama had banned abortion. She was going to have to drive all the way to Tennessee to get one done. “What kind of State bans a necessary medical procedure?” Allie complained to herself. She booked an appointment at an abortion clinic in Lawrenceburg, Tennessee, it was just over the state line. The appointment was for the next morning, it was going to be an almost three hour drive. So she spent the rest of the day getting ready for the trip. When she crawled into bed, she finally felt calm; she was taking charge of her life, getting rid of the problem. She refused to think of it as a baby, it was just a temporary problem. The next morning she got up early so she could be on the road by 5am. When she walked outside snow lightly peppered her head. “Great, I hate driving in the snow! Hopefully it will clear up soon.” She hit highway 65 by 6:30, she was running behind because the snow started coming down harder. Traffic was heavier than expected and they were driving slower than the posted 65 mph. Three hours later she was only passing Athens. She was hours behind schedule and she still had over eighty miles to go. She had given herself an hour leeway, but that had quickly dwindled away. She could turn around but Lawrenceburg was closer than home. The snow was heavy but nothing she hadn’t seen before. This drive was playing havoc with her mind; every song that came on the radio had something to do with babies; Always be my Baby Hit me Baby one more time Baby girl Be my baby tonight Baby baby, “Ugh!” She angrily turned off the radio, “It wasn’t a baby yet and it wasn’t going to be either.”

By the time she hit Tennessee it was almost a white out; the wind was whipping her car side to side. She took the first exit she saw and looked for somewhere to shelter a while, till the storm calmed down. “Hopefully they can work me in or I’ll just have to reschedule the blasted appointment.” she grumbled. Allie saw a Wal-Mart and pulled into the parking lot, there were very few cars in the lot. She drove to the front, so she wouldn’t have far to walk through the elements. She tried to slow near the entrance, but her wheels couldn’t find any traction and she slammed into the concrete posts in front of the store. She was thrown into the side window, cracking it and bloodying her nose. The whole side of her face ached. She had to crawl out the passenger side of the car, since her door was crumpled and wouldn’t open. She stumbled to the open doors of the store. The lights were off, only the emergency flood lights were on. Snow had piled up on the sensor pad of the sliding doors, causing them to keep opening, until the snow had accumulated so much the doors could no longer close. She trudged through it and walked into the store. “Hello?” her voice echoed through the cavernous store. She heard things falling to her left and something running toward her. She ran back out into the storm. She ran to the next closet car, since her door was smashed. Luckily it was unlocked; she leapt in and stared back at the store. After a few seconds, a pack of coyotes ran through the door and back into the surrounding woodlands, She leaned back in the seat sighing in relief. She tried her phone to call for help and she had no bars.

“Great, no service! I can’t stay in this car; I’m just going to have to go back into that store. She started to open the door, but she heard slight mewling sound. Silently she listened and searched for the sound. Someone abandoned a kitten in the car, she thought angrily. The sound was coming from a pile of blankets on the floorboard. She gently moved part of the top blanket, horrified she dropped the edge of the blanket and jumped back against the door. She couldn’t have just seen what she thought she saw! However the cries that are now issuing from the bundle proved that she had. She couldn't just leave it there! She wished she was any where but in this car. The loud cries refuse to be ignored, so she leaned over and picked the swaddled bundle off the floorboard. She could feel the chill through the blankets so she opens her coat and bundled it to her chest. She peaked under the blanket again to see the very young baby within.

“What am I going to do with you?” She grumbled. Now it’s even more imperative for her to return to the store. That’s the only place where they can safely shelter. The wind has picked up even more in the few minutes she’d been in the car. She wrapped the other blankets around her chest and shoulders, trying to create a safe place for the baby. Once she’s covered she gets out of the car and trudges through the biting wind and snow to the doors. She entered the store and moved toward the back. It’s very cold but at least the wind doesn’t reach this far back. Always one to take command she makes a mental list of what she needs. She’ll need something safe and warm for the baby And then she’ll need to feed the baby judging by its cries. She grabs a cart and walks to the baby section, there she throws a portable baby bed into it, she adds a package of bottles, a pacifier, diapers and wipes. She looks for formula and sees that its’ kept behind locked doors. She walks to the outdoor section and grabs a hatchet and walks back to the baby section. She lays the baby in the bed and pries open the doors. Which formula to get? She grabs the can that says sensitive; thinking can’t go wrong with that. She sees a winter sleeper hanging from a rack and puts that in the cart. Then she heads to the back of the store. She decides to go into the restroom, because she can shut the door for further insulation from the cold.

It’s almost warm in the restroom; she turns on the hot faucet and lets it run, while she changes the baby into the warm outfit. Then she rinses the bottles and pacifier under the hot water. Reading the label she measures out the formula and sits down on the floor to feed the baby.

An uncomfortable thought enters her mind, it feels right holding the baby girl. She balks at it. The baby eats fast, poor thing was starving, she thought. What kind of person would abandon a baby in this storm! Then a second thought crossed in mind, how are you any better? You planned to kill yours. “I’m not killing a baby; I’m getting rid of a clump of cells!” She angrily growls. She remembered that she should burp the baby so she raises her to her shoulder and gently pats her back. The smell of the baby teases her nose, it’s a pleasant smell. Unconsciously she rubs her cheek against the baby’s silky hair, and sighs. When the baby falls asleep she puts her back in her bed. She listens to the howling wind, the storm is getting worse. The emergency lights flicker but stay on, she realizes she’s going to be here for a while and needs to get supplies. She wraps blankets around the baby and goes out into the store. Anxiety tugs at her for leaving the baby, but she knows the restroom is the warmest and safest place for her. She takes the cart with her, wind is howling through the store, she goes back to the baby section and grabs more formula and diapers, she has no idea how long she’ll be here. Then she grabs other items that might be useful. As she’s leaving she’s spies a book sitting on the shelf ‘The Miracle of Conception.’ she throws it in the cart. She reasons that maybe it will have information she could use to take care of the baby. She goes through the store grabbing supplies; a lantern, flashlight, lots of batteries, a battery backed up clock radio, food for herself more blankets, pillows, warm clothes, socks and a small tent. As she’s heading back, she hears a racket; she fears its more coyotes. Panic sends tremors down her spine; could coyotes push the restroom door open? She races back to the restrooms skidding to a halt when a couple of deer bound into her path. She back tracks and runs down another aisle when the buck lowers his antlers.

Once in the restroom she pushes the cart inside and deadbolts the door. She rushes to the baby and sees she’s still sleeping. She feels something on her face; she wipes at it and looks at her hand. It's wet, she realizes she’s been weeping. Fatigue hits her like a hammer and she slides down the wall to the floor.

“What the Hell is wrong with me!” Allie cries burying her face in her hands.

She felt like she was in an apocalyptic movie, only the baby and her. She is the only thing between life and death for the child. It’s a daunting realization, but she thanks God for the circumstances that had brought her to this baby. Shaking off her melancholy, she starts putting her temporary shelter in order. She sets up the small tent and lines it with blankets and pillows. She knows that with nightfall it will get colder and hopefully the tent will be warmer than the vast restroom. She nibbles on the cheese and crackers she grabbed. As she is finishing that the baby wakes, she changes her and slips her into some thermal pajamas. Then she feeds her another bottle. She doesn’t drink much. Not knowing what a baby drinks she worries if 3 ounces is enough, but the baby seems content settling into sleep again.

She marvels at the babies tiny fingers, so fragile and so precious. Her mind wanders to the child growing with in her.  She places the baby and her bed into the tent, stroking her soft cheek as she withdraws, when she stands up her hands cup her belly for an instant. She pushes those thoughts away and starts putting batteries in the lantern and flashlights, then into the clock radio, she doesn’t set the clock because she has no idea of the time. But her body is telling her she needs sleep. She changes into the thermal pajamas from the basket and sees the book. She grabs it and puts the items into the tent, once inside she zips up the opening and gets comfortable. She turns on the radio and tunes into a news station; “The last time the Tennessee Valley saw a blizzard this extreme was in 1996, it dumped 5 inches of snow in less than 6 hours. Officials are advising everyone to stay off the roads, and bundle up; it’s going to be a long night.” “Wonderful!” she sighs listening to the howling wind, she lays down, but can’t sleep. So she grabs the book and starts to read. ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; and before you were born I consecrated you.’ -The First trimester- (0 to 13 weeks) This is the most critical time in your baby’s development; *your body is going through enormous changes, *by 6 ½ weeks you can hear the baby’s heartbeart with an ultrasound. *the baby will develop all of it’s organs by the 3 rd month .................................................................. .............................................................. ‘For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.’ “My baby already has a heartbeart?” She thought in amazement. She figured she was probably 10 to 12 weeks along. She looks at the photo at 12 weeks. She sees its little hands and fingers, she can tell this baby is a little boy. Even though it is only 3 inches long, she can tell it's a baby, not a clump of cells. The phrase ‘in my mother’s womb” struck her hard, she never thought of this pregnancy in terms of her being a mother…especially already.

She saw that the book was written by a Christian author, she believed in God, she always had she just hadn’t thought about him much since she’d grown up. The scripture about knowing you in the womb surprised her. She had never thought of abortion as anything other than a medical procedure, no different than a pap smear. But thinking in God’s view, certainly made her think in a different perspective. She struggled with that internally, she had her career, and Phil. But what was more important? Who do I want to spend my life with? Did she plan a life with Phil? No, it would end, she never saw him as a forever relationship. But this child was a forever relationship, a child is a bond of forever. And her career was so she’d be financially stable, it wasn’t her life. It was so she could enjoy her life. The baby would be her life, it would be her love and her future. When had she stopped thinking, …my body, my career...my ,my, my...? When had she stopped thinking, ...it’s just a clump of cells, it’s just an inconvenience to be terminated? When had she started thinking, …this is my baby, my responsibility? I am its protector, I’m its MOTHER!

She rolled over and looked at the innocent baby sleeping in its bed. Shame filled her, when she realized she had been about to kill her own child. A scripture popped into her mind from her youth; ‘The Lord is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, forgiving iniquity and transgressions...’ She picked up the book that she had dropped; it was opened to the last page,

‘God calls children a true gift and a blessing... Children are a heritage from the lord, The fruit of the womb... Fearfully and wonderfully made... She closed her eyes and thought of all the coincidences that had to occur for her to get to this point; Finding out she was pregnant, Having to travel to Tennessee for an abortion, The Blizzard making her get off the interstate when she had, The crash, the Wal-Mart doors being open, the coyotes and running to that certain car. It was pretty far fetched to believe it was coincidence, but when she looked to God, she saw his finger in it all… He had saved two babies this day.

With a smile on her face she drifted off to sleep.  She was awakened hours later to pounding on the restroom door. She opened the door to a police officer who was checking the store, he’d come to the Wal-Mart checking for a baby reported to have been left in a car when the Mother had tried to go find help. When he saw the open door of the store he decided to check inside while the other officers checked the lot. “The baby is safe with me.” Allie told the officer and then went to get her out of the tent. “Thank God!” the officer said visibly relieved. “I was so frightened that this was a call to find a dead body.” “The baby decided at that moment that she wanted her breakfast, “When you’re ready we’ll take you to the emergency shelter and reunite this precious baby with her parents.” The officer told her. So Allie changed and fed the baby for the last time, sorrow filling her but at the same time joy. The baby wasn’t abandoned and neither would her baby be abandoned or worse. She gathered the baby things including the bed, the parents might need them. She didn’t think Wal-Mart would mind considering the circumstances. Collecting her things she then walked outside with the baby snuggled in her arms. The weather was crisp and beautiful; it was a wonderful day to start over again, Thanks to God.


THE ROBOT Sid made a robot for his school exhibition. He wrapped it up in newspapers and kept it in the corner of his room. At night , before going to bed Sid practised his speech . " Good night Zen , " he said , looking at the robot . Yes , that's what he had named his robot , Zen' . Next day Sid took Zen to his school . Zen was the centre of attraction . Sid won the award for the best project . He returned home and showed his trophy to his parents . Then he kept Zen in the corner and went to change and have his lunch.  After lunch Sid picked up the book , 'pinnochio 'from the shelf.

    Zen started feeling bored and tired standing all alone . It was dark and quiet . Zen wanted to hug Sid and sleep as he was feeling cold . When he tried to move, he could not move . He was feeling frustrated. " I wish I could move about ," he thought . He wanted to go to Sid's school again and enjoy .  One of Sid 's friends, Ron was jealous of Sid . He challenged him to a game of chess . Sid was tensed as he knew that Ron was a strong opponent to defeat . Seeing Sid's predicament , Zen decided to help him . "But how can I ? I am just a robot . I can't even move,"he sighed sadly, unable to help his creator. Just then a fairy was passing by in her Cosmocraft . She heard Zen . She came down and went inside . She patted Zen on his back . She promised to grant him his wish . She said some magic words and stroked his head with her wand . She breathed life into Zen .

With great difficulty Zen took his first step, holding the fairy's hands . Soon he was dancing and hopping in the room. " I can move . I can breathe, " shouted Zen in excitement. " "Calm down Zen.You will wake everyone by your noise ," laughed the fairy . " I have granted you your wish but

promise that you will not go anywhere without Sid's permission. If you disobey, tell lies and behave badly you will lose all your strengths to walk about . " Zen thanked Fairy Godmother and promised to be well behaved .

Next day at school , Sid and Ron sat facing each other for the chess tournament . As usual Ron was winning . Sid felt the game slipping from his hands. Zen was very curious to try out his new powers . He invoked his Fairy Godmother and asked for help . She made him invisible . He won the match for Sid by cheating . Sid not knowing about this was very happy that he was able to defeat Ron . Fairy God mother warned Zen ," as this was your first offence,I am forgiving you . "    He slowly slid out of the room and went outside . To his surprise , the fairy had left behind her Cosmocraft in the garden . Curiosity got better of him . Zen got into the Cosmocraft . He tied the seatbelt and wore the helmet that he found on the seat . Zen saw three buttons, red, yellow and green in front of the seat . He began fidgeting with the buttons . With trembling hands he pressed the red button. Nothing happened . On pressing the yellow button , there was a slight jerk . Suddenly the Cosmocraft moved forward . Zen almost lost his balance and was about to fall . He tried to hold the rod , but by mistake he touched the red button . The Cosmocraft began to move up with great speed . In no time , it was flying high above the clouds . Zen was enjoying himself . The Cosmocraft was flying over parched fields, dry rivers and barren lands . His eyes were burning and he felt chocked . He was feeling exhausted , hungry and thirsty. He began looking for a place where he could rest for sometime . Suddenly, he saw a huge golden castle. He flew down and parked his Cosmocraft outside the gate . There was a board with the words , 'Trespassers will be prosecuted .' The two guards standing outside the gate saw Zen loitering around . They caught him and took him to their emperor . "Who are you and what brings you here ?, " squeaked the emperor . Hearing his voice , Zen couldn't control himself. He began to laugh . He just couldn't believe that a tiny creature with a squeaky voice was the emperor . The emperor got furious and ordered his guards to chain Zen and throw him into the prison . All his pleas to forgive him fell into deaf ears . The guards locked him in a cold and dark room and went away . Zen felt scared . The chains were so heavy that they hurt his body .  One day he overheard one of the guards telling the other that the emperor was planning to attack the Earth and drink the blood of humans . An idea stuck zen . He called the guard and told him to take him to the emperor ." Why do you want to go to him?" "I have just come to know that the Emperor wants to evade the Earth. I can help him ."

The fairy Godmother by her magical powers, heard Zen telling lies . She got worried that Zen would land up in trouble when the truth would come out. She made herself invisible and quickly flew to him . She told Zen that she was very upset that he had broken his promise and told a lie . But she would at the same time help him .   She went to the emperor's room , disguised as Zen and offered to help him. He told the emperor how he would attack his enemies. The emperor was very impressed by Zen and even promised to release him .    The fairy Godmother called all her angels and asked them to help her in her mission . She gave Zen some supernatural powers. By these powers he could enter any human body .

The fairy God mother, holding Zen flew out of the castle. Soon they were airborne and landed on the land , with the emperor and his guards following them.    On the Earth the Emperor began to create havoc . He killed whoever came his way . Zen was very sad to see humans dying .He decided to help them at all costs. As he was flying,he saw a big building . He could here people talking about some problem.

    He made himself invisible and went inside . He found out that they were scientists trying to find out solutions to combat the menance on humans . He entered the body of the head of the mission,Dr. Vishal. "Eureka! We have found a solution to kill our enemy ,Dr.Vishal shouted . Zen and Fairy Godmother winked at each other . Zen left Dr. Vishal's body and flew out of the window with his Godmother. She congratulated him for his good work.

" I had purposely left my Cosmocraft outside Sid's house . I wanted to see how good you are at keeping promises . Your disobedience had landed you in trouble . But you also helped the scientists to find the solution of their problem . So I am releasing you of the condition I had put on you." They hugged each other and flew away to the Cosmic land . " Hope you are safe Zen .Don't leave me and go away . Don't.........." "Wake up Sid dear . Daydreaming again ! Robots , space and you will always be inseperable ." It was his mother , ruffling Sid's hair. MOUSUMI BISWAS


I leaned back on the chair facing the backyard garden upon which I had squandered half of my savings. My father bought that extra half-acre land with the last penny of his fortune, just so I could dig it up for nothing. I looked around, envisaging the blossoming flowers and the fragrant aroma of ripe fruits stagnating in the air. It would’ve been a reminiscence of those summers I grew up in. I used to spend the vacations at my grandpa’s place. I’d wait all year for the summer, to spend a couple of months at his place. My grandpa was too old to get his hands soiled, thus he used to stand behind and guide me as I dug up the flower beds, added the right amount of compost, and planted the seeds. We’d learn to grow different fruits every year. We’d sit in the shed and I’d listen amazedly as he told his stories. After storytime, I’d spend the rest of the evening looking at all my efforts ripening into lushly green fruit-laden plants growing taller than me. Sometimes I'd roam around the garden with my father. My father was more into flowering plants; his favorite was the

Buddleia  or the

butterfly bush . Buddleia is known for attracting butterflies. He used to say, “Flowers are pleasant to look at but butterflies are the real

amazeballs .” Once he made me look closely at the butterflies that hovered over the Buddleia flowers. I was in awe of the varied patterns on their vibrantly colored wings. He told me to gently touch a butterfly resting on a bud. As I approached, it spread out its wings and flew off, showcasing its magnificent asymmetric patterns. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen up close.

I was brought back to reality when my gaze came upon the tomato plants lined up in front of me in ten pots. Those were the first and only ones in the garden. The plan was to start with tomatoes and gradually progress to other varieties. I staked half the money in setting up the garden and preparing the soil, forecasting a diminished profit in the first time but steadily working its way up. Things all went south when my father got diagnosed with

Stage IV Leukaemia . Medical bills slowly began to pile up. I took out a mortgage loan against the half-acre land. Most of my time went by in the hospital; I only came home to water the plants. This went on for two weeks and before the tomatoes began turning into crimson red, my father took his last breath.

I had ordered twenty medium-sized pots for the garden before the chaos. They were for radish, spinach, potatoes, and some flowering plants. The delivery service didn’t bother to ask to keep them inside. Neither did I. I’d already paid them upfront so they kept those pots outside the wooden fence surrounding the backyard, rang the bell for signature, and left. I went inside to make myself some coffee. I wondered what to do with those pots. They had been outside for around three weeks by then, and creepers had climbed on them. I couldn't fathom the point in bringing them in when there wouldn’t be any place to keep them. I decided to leave them outside. I wanted to sleep for a month straight. If I woke anytime in between, I might go and water the pots. But then I found it a better solution to sell the tomatoes after one or two days when they fully ripen and then bury the plants. I’d buy some Buddelia seeds and add some extra compost when planting them. Buddleias can grow well of their own. After that, I will go for that sleep. “Gracie… Gracie…” I heard someone shout in the backyard so I rushed outside. I saw a German Shepherd rummaging through the tomato plants, half-chewing each tomato then leaving it for a new one. I wondered how the dog got inside. I saw a ball lying at a distance and a kid’s voice coming from outside the fence. I opened the fence door and let the kid in. He rushed to get hold of his dog by the collar. The dog was too distracted by the tomatoes to pay any heed to his master. After a little tussle, the dog backed off the plants. “I’m sorry about this. I was playing fetch and accidentally threw it inside,” the kid apologized. “It’s all right buddy. Don’t throw it inside a property next time.” After they were gone, I went outside to have a look at the reason behind the dog crossing a five-foot-high fence. I saw the pile of pots lying on the ground, some of them broken. The dog had stepped on them to cross the fence. I went inside to take note of the mess that lay in the middle of the garden. I felt relieved that I was getting that sleep sooner. *** I looked at the flower vases kept on display at the storefront. They were undeniably eye-catching, especially the pots and the vases. I’d never seen such beautiful ones. I felt an urge to buy a few of those; the vases. The pride in growing a plant is incomparable to the one you bought from a store. I went inside the plant shop and the perfumed fragrance residing in the air made me want to throw up. I went to the seeds section, picked up a packet of Buddleia seeds, and walked straight to the payment counter. A girl stood beside me at the counter. She was signing five-six papers hurriedly without reading them. I presumed that she was buying the shop. Anyway, it wasn’t my concern. I wanted to reach home. I made my payment after the girl left. I was too tired to take a bus ride because then I had to walk half a mile from the bus stop to my house. I wondered why I was so impatient to buy those seeds. Maybe I was just missing my dad or maybe I was getting too impulsive. I put my thoughts aside and stopped a cab passing by. As the cab halted in front of me, I heard someone call out for it. I turned around to see that girl from the shop rushing towards us. Our eyes met for half a second before the cabbie asked us our destinations. The girl was going four blocks ahead of my place. We agreed to split the fare and got in. “Thank you. I’m Alice.” “I’m Austin.” She saw the packet of seeds in my hand and asked me if I was a breeder. I replied that it was for my garden. I told her that I saw her inside the shop, signing off the papers at the counter. It turned out that she was signing off the payment slips for the pots and vases they supplied to the shop. She was a craftswoman of some sorts and ran a local business along with her four other friends who made things for decorations and recreations. I ended up telling my whole story when she asked about me. When I stopped, it made no sense why I blurted out everything. Luckily I didn’t break down. It’s like the

dam  burst, but there wasn’t any

flood . “What are you going to do now?” “I have a degree in graphics design. So I might just make something of it.” “But your heart is in farming. That’s why you weren’t doing graphics designing in the first place, right?” “I have some plans. Let’s see what lies ahead.” She nodded and we stayed quiet for a while. I thought about how this goes on in movies. Someone tells a sad story, the other person is moved to tears and their pity turns into love. It felt creepy when I thought about it. I looked sideways at her. She was busy with her phone, reading comments on

Facebook . I let out a quiet sigh.

The cab suddenly screeched and I grasped the seat tightly as the driver slammed the brakes. A dog had come out of nowhere and was sniffing the road.

“Get hold of your fricking dog!” he shouted at a man who rushed in and pulled the dog out of the road.

“Poor soul. They are so naïve.” I looked at her and then the driver, who looked at her then me through the rear-view mirror. “Sometimes not in an innocent way,” I smirked. “I have come across a lot of dog messes today,” she chuckled. “Do you like dogs?” “I’m more of a cat person but yeah, I do like dogs. It’s pretty evident that you love dogs, right?” “Yes, I do. I neither like nor hate cats. I’m just very scared of them.” She continued, “Um, I wanted to tell you that we are looking for a designer to handle our advertising and brochure designs. As it happens, I’m sitting beside one, and if you’re interested, we will like to see your work.” “Okay, sure. It’s fine with me.” I cursed myself for my over-enthusiastic response. We exchanged numbers and she gave me her address. We set up a meeting at her place the next evening. I asked her if it was their office. She said that she grew up there with her parents and the Barnhouse then served the purpose of their office. When I told her, we both were astonished to know that we had lived our entire lives a few blocks away and still never met each other before. The cab stopped by my place. I paid my share and got off. “See you tomorrow,” she said, getting her face close to the window. “Yeah, see you.” It was the shortest twenty minutes of my life. A part of me wanted to crash on the bed and get up before the next evening, and another part of me wasn’t sleepy anymore. *** Six years have passed since that day. A half-an acre of bleak land has expanded into an acre of farmland. I sit under the shed in the middle of the farm, looking at the saplings sprouting and basking in the sun. I hear Alice calling. “Missy, come to mommy… Honey, come inside and bring along Missy.” Missy is our cat who is chasing the butterflies hovering over the Buddleia in our backyard. A cat’s life is the best; sleep eighteen hours a day, get food anytime you wake up, beat the dog, and cry to be let out in the evening to play with the butterflies.

Alice and I married after dating for two years. We adopted an adorable pup and named him Jesse. We found Missy near the Buddleia one day and decided to take her in. Jesse got a playmate so now Alice and I are finally getting some privacy. We are planning on having kids now. Alice completely backed me with the funds to set up the farm. I started making generous profits in no time and now two-thirds of our income comes from our

YouTube channel . She has always supported me through the risky choices I made and it’s quite rare to find someone who trusts you like that. I never knew about the

Butterfly Effect  before; ' one thing affects another’ . I came across it online a few days back. I asked Alice if she knew about it. She did. I was quite fascinated by it and ever since it’s been living in my head. I always wonder what would’ve happened that day, if I had decided to bring inside the pots kept outside the fence, or if the dog didn’t destroy the tomatoes, or if I didn’t go to that plant shop, or Alice and I didn’t share the cab. One different move and life could’ve ended up differently. It’s amazing how our decisions can affect not just our lives but also those around us. I love Alice a lot. She and the pets are the only family I have. Sometimes I wish I had met her earlier in my life. Damn, I should have spent a vacation or two playing around in my neighborhood. It's funny how everything we want is already nearby, veiled from us by destiny. Blink once at the wrong time and you miss it forever. Even it’s surprising how Alice chose me. How incompetent I sounded that day in the cab and yet she hired me for the job, which I also left within a year. I won’t even choose myself for the job if I had other options. Maybe the sob story worked on her. Occasionally I ask Alice what she feels about that day and the cab ride we shared. She still calls it ‘the most expensive cab ride she ever took’.


 The day is dark when you awake. In complete honesty, it's nothing new, the black smog rolling off your pointed tower turrets. It doesn't surprise you. Neither does the occasional scream as a soul rushes past your cracked bedroom window; the house is just plain stuffy were you to close it.

 No, none of this is new to you. Another long, long day in Hell. Yes, that's a capital

H.

When you're the devil, things get old fast. Really fast.

 Like breakfast. Your morning tea boils over, staining the crisp, red suit you so painstakingly put on. It didn't do wonders for your thighs, so it's a relief to get off. The stains... Not so much.

 The Hellhounds eat your bacon.

 When the postman chucks the morning mail at your castle doorstep, you lift it with little enthusiasm. Another court case requesting your presence, along with a signed letter from the man in it. Harold. Not your first rodeo with him. No matter how often you told him he still committed murder, no matter how many paperclips he used, no matter how cool he might've looked doing it, he still killed one hundred people. On the dot. Multiply that by seven, and you might get close to the number of paperclips Harold used.

 You keep sifting through the pile. It seems to grow more every day. Lists of new arrivals, the landscapers wanting their bill for your decorative lava fountains, and then one makes you pause. Stop in your tracks.

 A child's messy handwriting, delicately looped and surrounded by sideways stickers of candy canes and reindeer. And your name. Front and center on the red and green striped envelope.

Satan.  You slice open the top with your fingernail, carefully withdrawing the letter. Inside, there is twice as much holiday cheer and more stickers than Harold's paperclips.

Dear Satan,

I pormise that I have ben graet

(many scribbles here, and then:)

o.k. this year. Mom tels me my speling is better. She says I can right you becuase I got a star

(several Christmas star stickers follow)

on my homewrk. Here is my list:

-A puppy -A doll, like Lilys but not with blond hair bcause that is vry ugly -that is all Thanks Satan.

Love Kira

(Heart, heart, heart)  Gently, you fold the letter and tuck it into your breast pocket. How had it been delivered? This wasn't your forte, your job, in the slightest. You hadn't even been aware of what time of the year it was. Last time you'd checked, it was July, which probably means that your fast past to the Bahamas has expired.

 Pulling out Kira's letter, you scan the list again. A puppy... Your gaze instantly drifts to one of the Hellhounds, busily chewing at the remains of a poor soul in the corner. They don't look so bad, if you squint, maybe ignore their demon-like eyes...

 No. Absolutely not.

 The next item. A doll, except not blond. Because blond is- you roll your eyes here- very ugly. Fingering your own blond locks, you scoff in disgust. Kira wouldn't know beauty if it came to collect her innocent little soul.

 That takes you back to the puppy. Surely, pet stores would be open this time of year. You wouldn't actually know. The Hellhounds are purebred.  You falter. Why are you even doing this? It isn't your line of work. You have things to do. Why should you give even one of Harold's paperclips if Kira receives absolutely nothing on her sticker-bathed Christmas list?

 Before you are fully conscious of it, her letter is dangling over the trashcan. You are about to drop it in when you look around you for the first time. Around at the castle that still needs sweeping, the pile of mail you weren't even halfway through. That's just your personal business. That's not even including work-related activities.

 Your eyes drift to the holiday cheer on her letter, and grudgingly, you nod. You need a vacation. Kira's just a convenient way to get it. That's all. That's the only reason you're doing it.

 Gently tucking away her lovingly written note, you dial your butler on the landline. "Javier? Yes. Bring me my car."

 The first destination: A pet shop.

 The next: Kira's house. She'll have to deal with an unwrapped puppy. They don't fold neatly like Hellhounds do in confined spaces.  The Upper World in snowy when you arrive to Kira's hometown. It's a scraggly place, somewhere in Northern Canada. A place you've never even heard of, which means a great deal considering the souls you receive from everywhere else.

 Its only four streets are lined with strands of flickering Christmas light, illuminating the fast-falling snow. The flakes sizzle as they touch your skin, sending up dancing tendrils of steam. Waving them away, you scan the shop windows, sidestepping passerbyes.

 All of them stop to ogle at you, and you sigh. For a town this small, anyone new most likely guarantees that type of reaction. Presumably, the suit and lavish leather biker boots don't help your case. Or the soulless onyx eyes.

 After the fifth pedestrian flattens themselves against a store, clutching their chest, you rub your forehead. "Could you please direct me to the nearest pet store? I have a terrible amount of work I must return to and this errand is taking up enough of my time already."

 With a shaking hand, the middle-aged man points down the sidewalk. "On that corner there. Downstairs shop."

 "Thank you, my good man." You try to shake his hand but he shies away and, failing to disguise the gesture as one of those cool finger guns the 'hip' kids do, you continue on.

 The man, however frightened, was not a liar. As promised, a pet store awaits. A faint bell tings when you open the door, and you're greeted with the overwhelming aroma of urine and hairballs.

 The young woman behind the counter trembles when she sees you but holds her ground. It's refreshing, so refreshing in fact you fix the leaky pipe in the corner of the room with a flick of your fingers.

 "May I help you?" she squeaks out. "All pet food is half off for the holidays."

 "Yes, yes. I would like to purchase a..." A quick glance at the letter. "A puppy?"

 She nods, leading you to a kennel in the corner of the room while keeping a wide birth. "As you can see, we have many different breeds. Are you buying one for yourself or your..." Her eyes graze over you quickly. "Your child?"

 "No, no. Just filling a request." You overlook the yapping balls of fur, their small paws pressed against the wire cage. One is curled in the corner, far milder than the rest, and you gesture toward him. "That one." He will do far less damage to your suit.

 She nods, reaching inside to draw him out. Handing it to you, she says, "If you'll follow me, I'll give you your complimentary bag of puppy chow. We also have a wide selection of bedding."

 Holding the squirming puppy, you listen to her rattle on about their deals. It is clear whatever initial shock surfaced at the sight of you is now replaced by the saleswoman she is. In minutes, all that is needed for Kira's puppy needs has been established and, bags and dog in hand, the woman stares at you expectantly for payment.

 Sliding a single bone-crafted coin across the counter, you offer generously, "Keep the change."

 You're out the door seconds later, leaving her stuttering self behind. The snow had begun to fall again, this time denser than the last, and the streets had cleared up significantly. The letter holds Kira's address on it and you follow it to a sagging mobile home on the edge of town.

 Through the windows, you glimpse Kira and her mother, Christmas carols blasting through the grimy windows as they decorate their Christmas tree. You set down the puppy and all its needed essentials, finger brushing the doorbell.

 At the last minute, you ring it before hurrying away, already calling to your car. The last thing Kira, or her mother needs, is to see you on their doorstep. No. The gift will be anonymous.

 You're back in Hell before they even reach their door.

 Left in the hotness and blackness of your castle, you release a breath, gazing down at Kira's letter. The smallest smile tugging at your lips, you pin it to your fridge. Task completed.

 Turning back to the mail, you sift through it, your usual ball and chain already re-attached. Until a letter catches your eye. Stops you in your tracks.

 Return address: Jimmy Franklin.

 And your name, lovingly inscribed on the envelope, followed by several snowflake stickers. And the letter, addressed:

Dear Satan...


I grew up in a society where you cannot make your own decisions. It was a rule made thousands of years ago to hopefully “improve society”. My parents call it “The Golden Rule”. In my opinion, this rule is awful and shouldn’t be a rule. However, there is absolutely nothing I could do about it. Let me go more in depth about the golden rule. When you are a little kid, your parents make all your decisions. As you get into your teenage years, you get assigned a “decision maker”.

A “decision maker”, hence the name, makes all your decisions. These decision makers are trained to make the decisions that the government and our parents would expect of us. The “decision makers” are boring people who don’t even communicate with you. They are just there to make your decisions.

You lose your “decision maker” when you are finished with college. At college, it is required that you take a class that teaches you how to make the “right” decisions. The college classes, according to my sister, brainwashes you into doing the “right” thing. That's why she left college and, somehow, got rid of her decision maker.

After college, you can make any decision you would like. However, you cant really they just want you to think that. They still manage to make decisions for you without you being aware of it. It's crazy but it's true and has been proven.

I’ve been silently thinking about making my own decision for quite some time now. So what happens if you make your own decision? You die? You go to prison? Nobody knows because nobody has ever tried or succeeded. Which is crazy hard to believe because c’mon, teenagers. Teenagers want to make their own decisions, they want freedom, they rebel against everyone's rules. It's just how the teenage brain works. I refuse to believe that nobody has tried so I did some research of my own.

I started online but there wasn’t much except “If you try to break the rules of the government, the consequences are severe”,

but nothing clarifies exactly what the consequences would be. After my failed research online, I headed to the library. Surprisingly, I found a very large book about the golden rule from how it started to consequences to breaking the rule. I requested to check out the book but the librarian said it’s not one of the library books and has no return address so I can keep it if I please. Oh by the way, my decision maker thinks I’m at school, while in the classroom the decision makers go elsewhere.

I returned to school and no one found out about my trip to the library. When I got home, I did a lot of reading and note taking. I began to understand the rule but I still thought it was dreadful.

After tons of reading, I found out there was once a kid who went against the rules. They got in a lot of trouble and were never heard of again. People say that they changed their name and physical appearance and they still roam around town making their own decisions. Others say they were executed immediately. What really happened to the kid is a complete mystery.

I finished reading the book and began to really think about what could have possibly happened to the kid who broke the rule. There's no way it's just a complete mystery, nothing really is. Somebody has to know.

I talked to my sister about the book and she said that the person who committed the crime of making their own decisions still lives in this town. They live in a tiny house in the middle of the woods and they aren't allowed to see anybody unless someone goes to visit. The problem with that is nobody knows about this person so they don't have any visitors. Rumor has it, their parents think that they are dead. According to my sister, they haven't gotten any visitors in 26 years and have been locked in the house for 42 years and they committed the crime at the age of 17. “So should we go visit?” I asked my sister, “I mean, I have so many questions and really want-” “Whoa, slow down. This person, for all we know, could have passed or gone clinically insane by now,” She replied, “They haven't had any visitors in years and have been sitting in a tiny, one room house with nothing to do except stare at the blank walls.” “Do you even know where the house is?” “I do not, but listen here, breaking the rule and making your own decisions is a dangerous move. I know you well enough to know that you will be breaking the rule. Be safe alright?” “Got it.” “And don’t do anything extremely dumb. My little sis can’t get locked up.” She said as she lightly giggled.

I stayed up all night thinking of what I would be doing to break the rule. I could attempt to get away from my decision maker and do stuff on my own or I could completely ignore my decision maker and make my own decisions. Whatever I chose, I had to make sure I was smart about it so I don’t get sent away. * “I NEED HELP!” I yelled over the phone with my sister on the other end, “MEET ME AT THE ABANDONED GAS STATION ON WALLOWS STREET IN 10 MINUTES PLEASE!”

“Whoa whoa, what did you do?”

“I CAN'T TALK RIGHT NOW,” I said, as I was sprinting away from what I believe to be a cop car. My legs aching from running and my lunges burning as if there was no oxygen left in teh atmosphere. My feet felt as if they were going to give out.

“JUST MEET ME THERE!” I could clearly see the gas station ahead of me. My legs were burning so bad I thought I would never make it. The cop cars started catching up to me and my legs started slowing down. Going to the gas station with the cops behind me would be pointless so I took a left on the street just ahead of me.

The street had quite a few old apartment buildings, all lined up next to each other. In between the buildings were alleys. The perfect hiding spot.

I ran into one of the several alleys and hid behind a dumpster. It was around 4 feet away from a fence so I hid within the small gap. I sat down to try to catch my breath when I saw the police cars pass by the alley. Seeing this sight filled my body with relief.

I called my sister to let her know the change of plans, “Alright, listen. I’m hiding behind a dumpster between apartment buildings. Don’t go to the gas station. I’ll let-” “What apartments? I’m picking you up right now and taking you somewhere safe.” She said with a bit of worry in her voice. “No, its too dangerous. The police are near. I’ll call you in a minute.” I hung up the phone, put it in my pocket and stood up and peaked out the side of the dumpster. Nobody was there. I got out from behind the dumpster when the cars pulled into the alley. I was internally freaking out, there was no way out now.

I went behind the dumpster to text my sister and tell her what was about to happen. I leaned against the fence and began to cry. It was over.

I could hear the police get out of their cars and start yelling at me to come out from behind the dumpster with my hands up. Just as I was about to do so, someone broke the fence behind me. I turned to see my sister behind me. “C’MON! IM SAVING YOU! GET IN THE CAR,” My sister yelled, “HURRY!” I turned around and saw the police running towards the dumpster with their guns up. The three of us sprinted to the car and drove off as fast as we could. I could see the police get back into their cars and drive off rather quickly. Once we got far, far away from the police and the town we once called home, I began to ask questions.

“How did you find me?”

“Find My IPhone. It’s useful for times like these.” She replied while laughing. “Explain everything you did. I never thought I would be helping my sister run away from the cops!” She wasn’t mad about what I did and just laughed about it. She told me that we were going to a different state where her friend was letting us stay at her house for some time. It would take us two days to get there. The place we were going has no decision makers and we will be free to do whatever we want. Sounded like paradise to me!


Aroa stared into the crimson sunlight as the glowing star ducked down into the water. It was evening, and she was tired. But that didn’t stop our heroine from crying her eyes out, as she had done each day for the past several years. Sometimes, she was happy, but for most of the time, she felt nothing but sadness and doubt. After everything that had happened to her, she knew her story was over, that there was nothing left to be told. That she would always be the villain in a tale that felt as old as time.

Aroa cried harder, trying desperately not to sleep. When she slept, the nightmares came. They showed her her truth, as she saw it. How she had failed to to save herself, her family, her world. Not the world as she knew it, but her own little world she lived in, surrounded by the people she loved. She remembered the darkness of the poison as it went into her system, and the cold voice of her former best friend as it did.

“You brought this on yourself, Aroa,” she remembered Katia saying. “This is all you.” Oh, Katia. Aroa’s best friend, once. In another life.

She remembered Katia well. She remembered laughing together when they were younger, and crying together when they were older. She remembered sparing and gigging when they could defeat each other with ease. She remembered when they held hands at night as they walked towards the moon, hoping the glowing light would stay with them forever.

Katia, her sister, her best friend, was gone, and it was all the fault of Aroa. Not dead, just gone forever from her life. But it was a fate worse than death, being haunted by the ghosts of her past mistakes forever. It was Aroa’s curse, to live on the edge of happiness for the rest of her life.

Aroa sighed, thinking about this curse, and what it meant for her. How she’d never truly see her great friend in her life again. How she was gone, oh, she was gone, and it was all built up and thrown on Aroa’s back, forcing her to carry this burden for the rest of her life.

She thought again about the moon, and how it gently rocked the ocean to and fro, calming down the storms of the world. How it lit up the night, accompanied by the faint stars in the sky. She thought about how it kept the sun in balance with the Earth, holding together the world. And she thought just maybe, for a moment, that things could be alright with her heart, her mind, and her old friend. But then she remembered the poison, once again, and its prickly feeling through her throat. “Katia-” she remembered whispering. “Help me.” But Katia didn’t help. She had a look of dread, a look of worry plastered all over her face, but she never helped. All Aroa could do in what felt like her final moments was cry, and it seemed that Katia felt the same, though she didn’t show it. Katia never cried. She bottled her feelings down so deep, they could never be found. When something brought them out, they ravished, however, and tore down her own little world. Aroa was different. She always had her feelings with her, and let them out too often. It was a difference between them that was always there, but never mattered, for Aroa would always understand Katia’s pain, and vice versa. The two friends would always be able to understand each other. Until, suddenly, they couldn’t. The pain became too strong, so strong that there was just no way for either of them to live in the same world. And so Katia tried to end Aroa’s life, just like back in the day, when the two would spar, but without the giggles of triumph. There was no triumph here, only layers and layers of sorrow, being peeled away to reveal raw emotion, emotion that could never be concealed again.

“This is all you,” Aroa remembered, thinking about the last words directed towards her from Katia. The last words she might ever know from there doomed friendship. “This is all you.” And it was all her, in Katia’s eye’s, Aroa thought. She would always be the villain to Katia’s story, just like Katia would be the hero. But Katia would never be Aroa’s villain, because Aroa would always remember her by the old times, and she would always respect her, no matter everything she had done. She would always care for her best friend.

Aroa would always respect her best friend, but she would never have closure, she realized, with a jolt. There would never be room in her life for Katia ever again. Or at least, she didn’t think so. Not after the poison. Not after Amelie. Amelie was Aroa’s real sister, not like Katia. She was sweet, kind, gentle - everything an older sister could ask for. She was a handful at times, but that was okay. It would always be okay, after she was taken away from Aroa, as well.

Aroa had never seen Amelie again after the day of the poisoning, but she knew that it was her fault. She knew deep down that she was responsible for it all, just like with Katia. She knew it was all on her.

Amelie had sided with Katia. She knew it, and she knew she’d never change her mind. Amelie had always loved Katia as a sister, as well, so naturally she had no trouble choosing against her own family.

But it didn’t stop Aroa from caring. She would always care. She would always love Amelie, and Katia, as well. She would love them until the day she died, despite the poisoning, despite their falling out, despite whatever happened to Amelie. She would always love them. And with that, Aroa realized, it was time to make amends. After all that Katia had done, she could never forgive her, but she would always love her, so she needed confrontation. She needed to know why.

With shaking hands, Aroa walked towards where Katia lived, sweating furiously. When the second girl answered the door, there was nothing but an awkward silence between them. Between the former friends, who had not seen each other in so long. Between two people who once loved each other fiercely and now only felt sorrow. Aroa once again remembered the moon, and how it rocked the waters gently.

“Why did you do it?” she asked, tentatively. “Why poison me?” Katia was shaking now, too. With her trembling hands, she closed the door. But Aroa could hear her crying from the other side.

Katia never cried.

When she did, it meant something meant a lot.

This wasn’t the closure Aroa wanted, but it was enough. She knew she meant something to Katia. That it wasn’t just hate, but somewhere, deep down, there was sorrow in Katia’s cries, and somewhere in that sorrow, there was love.

The moon shined ever so slightly brighter as Aroa started her walk home, no thoughts of Katia, her dear former friend, weighing her down.

For once, Aroa was free.


Competition is not all fun and games. A girl stood in a doorway, her long hair sat on her back. She had a long brown overcoat that went just below her knees. She wore a dark green shirt with black leggings. She leaned in the doorway and looked out at the town before her, this was the doorway out the front entrance to her home. It was a small home with only a few bedrooms; it barely fit her, her mother, and her three brothers but it was her home. She lived in a small town at the border of the safe lands. You see dear reader this is many hundred years in the future and cities have crumbled, places that had once looked familiar now we're mere ruins all that remained of humans were small colonies around the world. But they weren’t just on earth they also were on Mars living happily for life on earth was extremely tough with extreme weather, smog, and the one common enemy zombies. Yes this is the apocalypse, but zombies have been around for awhile now humans have learned to defend themselves from these half dead enemies. With their colonies protected by a thick iron wall, and guards armed along the wall waiting for an attack, there have been zombie attacks in the past but humans prevaled and learned to live inside their walls, farming and keeping livestock. The wall surrounds a big area which you know now as states and the group of states that are in this wall are North Carolina, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and West Virginia and this is called the North colony and on the other side of the country is another colony including the states of Washington, Oregon, California, Utah, Nevada, and Arizona and this is the West colony. The colonies are separated and isolated from each other because everything in between the colonies belongs to the zombies. Within each colony there are towns separated by paths and remember dear reader that the states no longer exist and they are now one colony of humans trying to survive. Now the colony this takes place in is the North Colony and our story starts in a doorway where a is standing and that girls name is Octavia Robin.

It was a brisk afternoon and Octavia stood in her doorway looking out at her town, she was from the town of Beckinsdale in the North Colony. She lived with her mother and three brothers and dog, she doesn’t really remember her father but she did know he fell victim to a zombie attack when she was young. Her older brother remembers a little about him but that is the past. Her older brother Paris was called to join the colony army and her two younger twin brothers (Leo and Charlie) when the time comes and they are old enough are going to be called to the army as well and that is why Octavia has chosen to enter the Fate Games. The Fate Games take place every other year because it goes back and forth between the colonies this year Octavia can enter. You must be between the ages of 17 and 27 and she is 18 now. The past year she couldn’t enter because it was for the West Colony. The game is simple there are twenty competitors that are chosen at random from the colony, once they are chosen they have five days to prepare and say goodbyes then they get a backpack, a sleeping bag, one lighter, five matches, one gallon of water, a gun, a little food, and a couple pairs of clothes. You have a number and they put a tracking device on you and let you out of the gates to the unknown. You have one month to survive, only one can win and by winning you survive and don’t die but there is a twist if more then one survives they are all left to die and no one wins. The prize is something very precious: a ticket for you and your immediate family to leave, yes leave. The ticket is a ticket to a rocket ship that will take you and your immediate family to the thriving human colony on Mars where you can forget about zombies and live happily and thrive and every year the rich colonies of Europe hold this competition to give people a chance to leave and escape this world. The reason why Octavia wants to get out so badly is because for one her town is right near the border and there are more towns like hers but their job was to draft people into the army to send them out beyond the walls to fight zombies and these were the reasons why she needed to get her family out of here. Her brothers would be called to the army to fight and had a high chance of death and she needed to look after her family and give her mother a happy life. She had to win. Octavia loved her town and her family. She stood in the doorway, her mother standing behind her and her brothers sitting on the stoop as they waited. They were waiting for the names of the next contestants to be announced for The Fate Games. The other town members stood or sat in front of their houses and waited and heads perked up at the sound of the loud speaker crackling. A voice came on and started listing the names of contestants. “Contestant number 17 is…” the voice said. Octavia’s heart pounded in her chest. It's all she could hear pounding inside her, thoughts flying through her head. At that moment time seemed to stop and thoughts swirled like a tornado in her mind. What will happen if I die? Will I even get chosen for the games? She started to sweat, her stomach ached with the feeling of anxiety. “Octavia Robin from Beckinsdale!” She snapped back to reality as her name was called, she had a look of shock stuck on her face. She didn't know how to feel happy, sad, scared, or a mix of all those things. Her brothers stood up and her family hugged her while she stared into space still trying to process the information that she will be in the games. They stayed in their family hug for a few minutes and the own was silent except for Octavia grabbed her coat and said goodbye to her family and set off for the training grounds. The training ground was in the center of the Colony and it took a couple days to get there but that my friends is unimportant. She arrived there to see all the other competitors there, some looked huge and strong and others small and stealthy. Most of them were talking with each other and they all uuj                                     seemed to know each other but there was one girl sitting on the side just staring off into space. She had beautiful brown skin and her curly hair just sat upon shoulders with blond ends. Octavia was going to start to walk up to her when a man and Woman walked out of the building in front of the courtyard area where the contestants were waiting. The contestants got up and formed a half circle around the man and woman. They introduced themselves as “I am Rafferty Sherriden” the man said, “I am Verity Lockwood and we will bring your guides through your training for the games and provide you with all the information you need” said the woman.They both had accents that sounded British they had most likely come from Europe who created and lead the games each year. “If you have any questions you can just ask us now each of you will get a trainer. Your trainer will help you get into physical condition for the game and teach you how to fight. Over the week of your training the judges will be observing you.” Rafferty added. The judge observed the contestants and predicted who will so people can place bets. “Now contestants follow us into the training room and where you will be staying.” Verity said walking towards the building with Rafferty. The contestants started walking towards the building with their bags of stuff. This was just the beginning, it all started after this.

The contestants waited in the training room, in an awkward silence they all had different expressions pasted across their faces, some looked serious and stood there strong and proud, some looked frightened and worried, quite meek and small, and some just stared at the floor trying not to make eye contact with anyone. My dear reader sometimes you can tell a whole lot about people by just noticing their expressions but that is besides the point. All the contests had the same uniform on but they all had different numbers on them like jerseys for a game. Rafferty and Verity reappeared after they had left some ten minutes ago. They appeared with twenty people behind them; those were the trainers who each year came out to train the next contestants for the game. “Contestants welcome to the training arena where you will be training in the course of a week with your trainer” Rafferty said with what seemed to be forced enthusiasm. “Here we have your personal trainers,” Verity said, gesturing to the people standing behind her. “Now contestant you each have a number, that is your number i want you to find your trainer with the same number on there uniform” Rafferty added. “Now find your trainer!” Verity said, smiling.

Octavia waited for everyone else to find their trainers until there was one left, it was a woman she was quite tall and had broad shoulders, her hair was cut short and a silver purple color, she had tattoos on her arms and her arms were crossed as a stoic look was splattered across her face. She had an eyebrow piercing and her eyes were two two different colors one brown like earth and the other as blue as the ocean. “So your number seventeen. I’m Mavis welcome to the games seventeen.” She said, holding out her hand. Octavia hesitantly reached out her hand and Mavis pulled her into a hug. Her hug was hard and her muscles were like rocks in her arms, she released Octavia and started walking towards the training area. Mavis toward Ocatavia as she did push ups the sweat stinging her eyes and her hair stuck to her face, her arms burned as if they were on fire. She heard the ear piercing sound of the whistle and stood up and Mavis had a half smile across her face. “Nice job Seventeen. Now time to learn how to fire a gun.” Mavis said pointing to the firing range. They were at the firing range, the deafening sound of guns going off in their ears. Octavia went up, put in ear plugs and fired, she hit the target over and over. Mavis stood back tall and proud.

It was the day of the games the contestants were lined up and their families watched from the top of the wall. Their trainers stood with them preparing them and hooking up their tracking devices. The tracking devices tracked your heart and let the hosts of the games know where you are so you don’t leave or cheat by going to the West Colony, they also tracked your heart beat so they know who is dead. The contestants also have a device telling you who is left. “Good luck Seventeen.” Mavis said. Seventeen was her nickname for Octavia. Mavis handed her the backpack filled with the supplies and said “I trained many other Seventeens and none of them have made it but I think you have a chance. Good luck.” She said and hugged her. The contestants lined up against the gate and the trainers stepped back. The horn blew and the gate slowly cranked open quite loudly. Mavis yelled something but Octavia only heard the second part “Don’t like water” and she didn’t focus on that too much her heart pounding thoughts swirling. Rafferty and Verity stood on the wall and yelled “Go!” Octavia ran out the gates into the unknown and she knew the rest was up to fate.


My name is Lacy Kreen. I am hiding from the end of the world. That might sound like something from a sci-fi horror story,but for me it is reality. I’m hiding with my little brother. God save us from those monsters. I don’t want to die,please save us. A small girl walked forward. Her eyes darted around,like an animal hiding from an apex predator. A young boy clung to her back,trembling. The two glanced back and forth. The first thing you'd have noticed about them is that they're covered in a sticky onyx gloop,and that they're both out of breath. We’re scAred. I’m scaRed. WherE are our parents? Where is everyone? Please,anyone. Those things...they're like leeches. Or ravens. Or snakes. All of them. They turn into us,steal our forms,like the Wendigo. Or like some kind of skin-stealing vampire. The girl poked her head out,looking around. She stared at the streets,quiet and empty. The streets looked lonely. Woeful,almost. Her hands shaking,she held the boy’s hands. No one in sight. No cars either. Not a single animal called out,daring to break the hush that covered the town like a thick wool blanket. She stepped out of a thorny bush. They walked,house after house. Most smaller,some larger. Some smashed open as if a hand had reached down and shattered them. Windows broken,doors ripped off their doorways. A normal neighborhood transformed into a ghost town. No one in sight. A cloud of dust swirled through the town. Both of the sibling's clothes were torn and ragged,and covered in an oily,inky substance. Another thing to note was the state of the road. A cracked old thing,with hunks of it missing. A few old,worn,and all-together battered vehicles rested on the road,like lazy and wounded animals. I miss theM. Please….I don’t want tO die. Josh doesn’t deserve to die. Why are so Many people transforming into those monsters? Or better yet,why are those monsters turning into people? Why? It hurts my head to think about what happened... The small boy shook,arms holding on to the young woman firmly. He glanced at his sister,and shut his eyes ,his face screwed as if scared something would hit him. Dark copper stains showed on the massive maroon hoodie he wore. The pair looked dejected and lost,like kids in a corn maze. The girl pressed her back against the wall of a small,cozy-looking brick house. The boy looked sunburned. The girl put the young boy on her lap,squeezing him close. Her faded pink hair hung in greasy,curly,tangled strands,tickling the boys neck in feathery swishes. They whispered softly to each other,words too faint for anyone else to hear. Everything Hurts….why won’t someone save us? SomEone save us! I don’t want to be the hero! I don't want this! I didn't want to be tossed into this game of cat and mouse,Life and death. I just wanted a haPpy sumMer with my friEnds. The girl took a deep breath. She ran,eyes fixating at a small spot in the distance. The boy hugged her back,eyes flitting around. Every few minutes,a dark shape would blur the sky. The girl slowly stood up again,carefully putting the tiny boy on her back. She slowly walked away from the wall,constantly watching the sky. The brother and sister pair soon were walking on the sidewalk,towards the small spot in the distance. The day was lovely,but rather spoiled by the catastrophic look of the town and the haunting quietude. Those things will kill us if someone won’t save us! Please,I don’t want to die. Josh is hurt,I'm hurt. Those things will kill us and trick others. Like they did to Liv and Ellie. Like they did to the town. The ones who didn't run were killed so quick it's like it didn't happen at all... Her legs were shaking,bleeding,and scarred. Bitten. Scratched. She looked like she’d fall at any second. Her fingertips were stained a pitch black,and dripping with something like blood. Both looked tired,both silently crying,the tears streaking her face. Their eyes were bloodshot and red. Mom. Please come back for us. We can’t do this any longer. Please. Someone. This feels like a bad dream,always running. Run run run,or die afraid and a failure. Maybe it's a dream and I'll wake up at home and have mom's pancakes and go to school,and everything will be just fine. The two hopped into a faded red truck,clutching a worn,black bag. They sat there,gulping for air. No human in sight. Blood and gummy charbon ichor clung to their clothes. The small boy held the bag tightly,clinging to it as if it would save him. The girl hopped out,shambling into the dense woods that were close to the truck they both sat in. Clearly in pain. “Josh….I saw one of those things….stay here.” The boy nodded,mouth agape. I hold this notebook,and look at its pages in hope or despair that one day,someone will save us. Please. I’m hiding. They’ll hurt us if we go on any longer. I don’t want to die. Please. Someone,anyone.

She came back,hood hiding her face as she held something. “I…..I got it. They tried to kill me but I managed to kill it.” The small boy nodded,still clinging to the bag. She carried a little girl,hair as golden as the sun. Bright blue eyes staring up at the sky,as if still pleading for her life. Her chest ripped into,black ooze everywhere. A still-beating heart rested in the pool of pitch-black gunk,like the older girls fingertips. The girl looked at the small boy. “They won’t hurt us,alright?” Empty face. A skull exposed,flesh peeling off it. Worm Eaten hands,like an old-school zombie. The boy looked at her,all four eyes staring at the girl's face,all of them different colors. The girl heaved the body into the thick knot of pine trees,turning to the younger one of the two. "Look,it's gone. Rest." She muttered,pulling the boy into a bear hug. His curly chestnut hair smooshed itself against the teens filthy white hoodie. She lead him to the floor of the truck's bumpy metal truck bed,the sun's heat against their skin. They both soon drifted into a light slumber.