The train is starting to move, you have to get on it. But you can't get up from the bench on the platform. All the passengers in the train are looking at you through the windows expectantly, or maybe sympathetically. You pushed down your hands with all your strength on the bench, your feet exerted so much force to get up. You still stayed attached to the bench. You feel like you are only four limbs and nothing else. You felt powerless in spite of putting up so much physical strain than you ever did in your life. The train zoomed away. Then it just came, the realization, that you are in a dream. The announcement of the train woke you from the small nap. You have been waiting for about an hour now. Finally the train is about to arrive within the next few minutes. You are relieved. You noticed that you aren't alone on the bench anymore. The two people on both sides are sitting very close to you. You felt the warmth. You have never felt any trouble with other human beings close to you. Being social and warm is kind of your thing. In fact, you would be extremely uncomfortable if you are alone. The platform is now more crowded than before. When you arrived, there were only a handful of other passengers, but now the platform is packed. You started to think about this big world, all the different types of people in it,and their lives. You felt very happy. The large number of people is not a new sight for you. Everyday after your work, you return to your hometown by this same train from this same platform. All these people are going to join you on the train. The crowd is only going to be in the train for the next three or four stops though. There is much more distance to go before you reach your hometown. By then the train will be almost empty. Usually, you would've been sipping a coffee while waiting for the train. Today you are feeling too much tiredness. Work was too much today. That's why the nap crept upon you. You decided to buy the coffee from the vendors in the train, and for now just observe those around you. It's always an interesting activity for you. Scanning every face in the crowd with the warmest smile on your face, you are sitting there waiting for the arrival of the train. Everyone has different emotions on their faces, some are happy, some sad, others difficult to read. Suddenly one face garnered all of your attention from the rest. You can see it is clearly sad and frustrated. It feels different from other sad faces. It shows recent pain, very recent. You looked at the immediate surroundings of that person. It is a man, average, everyday man. He is clutching his knee with one hand and his other hand is on his large suitcase. Struggling to get up from the bench where he was sitting. You are sure that he is disturbed. You then started looking in all directions to see whether anyone else had noticed this man. No one, no one seemed to be looking at this man. Only you have noticed this man's difficult situation. You are thinking why no one is noticing this. However, you are glad that you noticed. You got the responsibility of helping this man and you are happy to do so. Determined to help this person, you got up, walked across to the bench he was sitting on. Those who were sitting on the same bench as the man started to notice you approaching. They didn't recognise the pain of the man sitting just next to them. They were inside their own worlds. Maybe these people will get inspired by you, and they will help someone in future. Maybe they won't, nevertheless you want to do what you should. You stopped in front of the man. He noticed you. He slowly looked up at you. You can see the face filled with desperation and pain, just as you expected. You asked the man in a calm voice what his problem was. He replied that he has to board the same train as you, to reach his home. When he tried to get up from the bench hearing the announcement, his right knee almost buckled. You noticed the others are now listening carefully and those sitting near to the man are looking at you. Everyone understood the problem now. You extended your arm and helped the guy to get up. He wanted to scream with pain as he tried to stand, but he muffled it as much as he could. You asked about going to the hospital, but he wanted to board the train. Once he was up the train arrived and stopped. You supported him to walk up to the train. You looked back over your shoulder to the people sitting at the bench and then to the suitcase of the man. One of them hurriedly got up and started carrying that and followed you. The man looked at your face and said the warmest 'thank you', you ever heard. You smiled. You looked ahead to the open door of the train. People on the platform parted to both sides to let the man board the train first. You looked at their faces. You are happy that your small act has actually inspired people to be considerate. You realize that people are inherently good. They just need a push. You found a seat for the man and helped him sit. The guy with the man's suitcase came by and placed it in the luggage space near the seat. He also had your bag that you left on the bench. You thanked him. Then the man said thanks to him and then turned to you and said another thanks. The compartment was the kind with several rows of three adjoining seats, on both sides of the compartment with no partitions. You can see almost everyone in the entire compartment. At least everyone who is standing. The compartment was packed and some of them were watching you help the man. Vacant seats were few, but there was an aisle seat free on the other side of the man. He asked you to sit there. You smiled and did so. The guy who carried the suitcase didn't have anywhere to sit. He lingered for a second or two and went to another part of the compartment to find a seat. The other passengers nearby started to ask both of you what happened. You both told what happened to those near to you. Your account is short and plain, while his is long and colourful. You just smiled to yourself. Quickly, everyone went back to their business after the stories. The man started to talk to you. You both talked about your names, families, jobs, hometowns and so on. He gets off very quickly, two stops from where you boarded. You, on the other hand, had a long journey ahead. More than two hours of train ride then a short walk to your home. You asked him how he will reach his home from the station. He said that he will call a friend to come pick him. And he then took his phone and called that person. After the call you said to him about seeing a doctor or going to a hospital. He agreed to do so. He will go with his friend. You insisted him to go to the doctor before going to his home. He nodded agreeingly. Shortly, his destination arrived. You and one or two other passengers helped the man and his luggage down. The friend was waiting there to pick him. You went back to your seat after saying goodbye to him. You felt happy and proud. The fast moving but beautiful images seen through the window attracted you, and in an instant hypnotized you. You slipped into another nap. There were no dreams this time. You just opened your eyes. The empty seats all around you worried you. You looked out of the window. Then being relieved that your stop hasn't passed, you sit back on your seat comfortably. The compartment is deserted and a quick scan by extending your head showed only a handful of passengers left. You didn't get the coffee, and vendors won't be coming now. You sit back and continue to look out of the window. There are a couple more stations before your destination. You remembered the man you helped and felt happy about what you did and actually how it made somewhat of an impact on all the people around. The station that you had to get off is about to reach. By now the entire compartment became empty. The last station completely drained the train. Your house is only a kilometre or so from the station. You stretched your legs and grabbed your bag and went towards the exit. You want to exit this deserted compartment, it's making you uneasy. As you reached the exit door, you saw a man sitting on the doorway. This is not a rare sight in trains in India, but you had the impression of being alone, and seeing someone else suddenly gave you a slight shock. The shock turned to disgust as you observed the man more. He looked like a homeless person. Whatever the colour of the clothes he is wearing was in the past, they are now brown and black. They don't look comfortable. He has a long stick with him and it went through the hoops of some plastic bags filled with something. You quickly realize he is not in a normal mental state, as he is talking to himself and haven't noticed you standing a few feets from him. You couldn't understand anything he said. He continued his unintelligible blabbering, you can understand the words he is saying, but not what he is saying. You realized there is no use in trying to analyse his words, and went back to observing him. Suddenly the man turned and looked at you, stared for a second or two and then he turned away. You quickly looked around the compartment again, and failed to see anyone else. Your attention returned to the man in front of you. He is not blocking your way, you can exit using the door on the opposite side. The platform is always on that side, he isn't going to bother you. So you continued watching him. Now it is his gestures that are gravitating your attention. No particular meaning, not interesting, but you continued to look at his hands. Then the attention slid to the long stick and then to the plastic bags. He is sitting on the doorway, the bags were on the side of the open door, held together by the stick. They were full and you felt that they could easily slide out of the stick. He was unaware of anything. He is chatting to himself and continues to move his stick carelessly, now and then, unaware of the bags on the end of the stick, dangerously close to the open door of the train. It could be food or something. Whatever it is, they are seemingly his only possession in this world. You should direct the attention of this man to his bags or he could lose all of them. But will he understand that you helped him? Will he acknowledge your help? And there is no one else to see you help this man. Then without any warning the bags smoothly slid out of the stick, and fell out of the door. He reacted a couple of seconds later than you did. He reacted nothing more and after a while he restarted his argument, or persuasion, or small talk, or whatever, with himself. The train reached your station by that time and you got down, walked to your home.


# Hiding in a Dumpster Here I am, 26 and hiding in a dumpster. Chipped tooth, and I can’t even hold anything because I have no nails on my fingers. I manage to climb out of the trash by kicking the shutter open. The sky is dark and there are no stars to see, just smoke. It is eerily silent but for me the sound is as peaceful as the ocean. I have a 3-hour window to find another dumpster to call home and force myself to eat something. The breakfast is going to be from the dumpster’s menu which can have a ton of rotten vegetables and fruits or it can be a few drops of juice from a crushed juice box. A few months go by and an upset stomach is the least of my concern. One positive thing about living in dumpsters is that I don’t need to find a toilet. I AM THE TOILET. I accept my reality because what else is there to accept. All I have to do is focus on a goal and for me that goal is skipping from one dumpster to another. Each dumpster is like a treasure box for me. Some dumpsters allow me to get some personal space. Some dumpsters seem inviting but have shards of broken glass hiding beneath them. And some dumpsters are always full. But they always have food and a zoo of miniature animals called cockroaches who used to seem scary to me but they do nothing but tickle your skin from time to time. They are like the butterflies of the dumpster world. I would say dumpsters are like people but no dumpster has ever betrayed me like people have. I have finally found peace. My life is externally disgusting, smelly, infectious, vile, chaotic but from the inside I have never been happier. Once I lost all my ego of being a human and considering myself better from insects or wild animals because I can solve math equations, I was able to adapt myself to live in any condition to fulfil my basic needs- food, water and a shelter. These accommodations seem unnatural to people but this is the norm for me now. I am trapped inside a mind which does not discriminate. I am trapped inside a mind which tells me I don’t deserve better than anyone. I am trapped inside a mind which has finished the last trace of my pride. I am just another organism occupying space somewhere which is allowed to contain things like me. The concept of me being the "Centre Of The Universe" had to end to adapt to this new life of living in dumpsters. Money didn’t buy me happiness but letting go of the daily routine of fitting in and acting like a cog in the wheel of society has brought me peace. Maybe I will live like this when I am ready to perform once again. But until then, I will rest in my garden of trash.


Monday was a rush. The lecture had been moved to a new hall and because she had gotten lost in a book about Fourier, she found out too late and had to run. But she still only made it for the last few minutes, just as the professor was finishing up. Hastily, she scribbled down the homework problems, two from the left side, one from the right of the blackboard, then checked her schedule and cursed. She would have to run all the way across campus again to catch the next lecture. This semester was killing her. It was already the third one, but instead of slowly getting the hang of college, she felt it got worse every day. The last summer she had spent mostly holed up in her dorm room or in the library, reworking her papers and studying; the last semester had been a blur, she was always trying hard just to keep up. Not that her grades were that bad, but she had probably just gotten lucky. The others, she was sure, had gotten all As, because come on, homological algebra can’t really be that hard, can it? She forgot about Monday’s math homework right up until Wednesday evening, when she cleaned out her backpack and found the paper crumpled up under a book. She smoothed it out on the desk and peered at the three equations. One was different, she saw immediately, although she didn’t know why it had come up. Surely it was preparation for the next lecture, so it should be OK to handle. It took her about two hours to solve the first two problems. She had to look up some concepts, but in the end she felt pretty good about them. To solve the last one, though, she only had a vague idea about how to go about it. She seemed to recall it was connected to something else from a book she had been reading earlier in the semester - or maybe last summer? She scanned her calendar and it seemed OK to postpone the problem until the next day or maybe even the weekend. After all, the lecture wasn’t until Monday and one more hour to solve it should be reasonable. Thursday night, she lay in bed with thoughts from differential geometry swirling through her head, theorems and concepts. She could see them with her eyes closed. The dorm next door was having a party and the thumping music didn’t help her concentration. She could go over and grab a beer, she thought, as she vaguely remembered her roommate inviting her. No, it would be terrible, she felt so sluggish and bored with the idea that she saw no reason to drink, sit alone (as usual) and watch others kiss or play stupid drinking games. To occupy her mind, she grabbed the last equation from the homework and tried to get as far as possible just using her head. What was it about this problem that was so hard? The first steps seemed easy, she connected, reconfigured, rethought, but suddenly there was a … gap. She tried different approaches, what had she learned so far? At one point, the numbers blurred and she couldn’t keep them straight any longer. Friday she woke up with her math notes in her hand. She asked her roommate as casually as she could if she had finished the homework - and received a confident reply: dealt with and done on Monday night. She sighed. What was she telling herself - that anyone could study math? Clearly, she was not meant for this. Too proud to ask to see the solution, she gritted her teeth and gripped her pencil. Saturday she was the first one in the library, tackling this problem with support from the old masters on the shelves. She let out a triumphant “Yes!!” after she overcame the first barrier that earned her a dismissive look from the librarian. Now she had something quite elegant on her paper. She was determined to finish this homework problem; it had become her nemesis. If she could do this, she told herself, she could do the whole course. She adjusted her glasses and hunkered down. She now had a beautiful next step, but after a couple of minutes of staring at the numbers, she felt all the energy drain from her body. She found herself at a dead end, again. This problem was unsolvable. Had she copied the numbers wrong? No, she thought, not after all those years of diligently learning with her tutor. She didn’t make that kind of mistake, not her, not anymore. On Sunday, she was invited to a football game and pizza, so she had little time to work on the problem, at least not in writing. Several people asked her if she was all right, because she seemed absent and didn’t contribute to the conversation. At night, back in her dorm, the problem seemed as tough as ever, as if all her work had been for nothing. She couldn’t allow herself to fail; she had even found old study notes from the lecture to see if the professor had given any hints, but there was nothing. Everything else made perfect sense and had helped to solve the first two problems. The third, while distantly related, had no explanation anywhere. At 3:00 am, she was awakened by the sound of her roommate climbing noisily into bed. It would be so easy to ask… just ask…for the solution. But the snoring not thirty seconds later told her this chance was gone. Tomorrow, Monday, was again packed with lectures and a study group. All the other courses were taking their toll, and even though focusing on them would be hard, she had to try to flip the switch in her mind. Closing her eyes, she suddenly saw it. Euphoria ran through her body as if someone had showered her with cold water. She dropped her pencil twice as she tried to get the numbers down onto the paper. Of course, she didn’t see all the steps, but she found the crucial one. It came down to not even one page in her neat handwriting. She didn’t bother to double check. She knew it to be 100% correct, smiling to herself, because the key idea had been in a book that she read over the summer, even though she couldn’t remember which one. Monday math class came and this time she was so early she even got a seat, having left the previous lecture before it ended to be double sure. Everything was normal as the professor started to solve the homework problems on the blackboard. He seemed bored today; his voice droned on and on. After he finished the second problem, he put down his notes and started the lecture. She was confused. For a few seconds, she hesitated, looking around at the others. They didn’t seem overly attentive, but no one seemed to be bothered that the third problem was missing. She took a deep breath and raised her hand. The professor caught the movement. He nodded, his face sour. “What about the third homework problem?” she said, her voice small in the large lecture hall. “What third problem?” he said, brows furrowed together. She read the equation out loud. Even more confusion on the professor’s face. He shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand you correctly. The equation you’ve read just now…” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I think I said it all last time, but maybe you had better things to do than attend my lecture.” She felt herself turning red at his annoyance. “It’s called the Hodge conjecture, and virtually every higher mathematician on this planet for the last eighty years has racked their brains trying to solve it…” he paused, “...and failed.” Suddenly, the paper under her fingers seemed to be on fire.


It started with a bang. Or to be more specific, a series of bangs. In 1972, the world's powers were at wit's end with one another, and a failed coup attempt was the final trigger on this particular powderkeg. The aftermath from a global war wasn't nearly as bad as anyone had predicted, but it certainly had unintended side effects. By 2043 humanity had managed to regain some semblance of past normalcy, and that's when the first superhuman mutation was discovered. A man by the name of Gregory Graves, who would go on to become the father of modern day superheroes, was the most famous case of what would later become known as The Cold War Kids. As civilization first attempted to rebuild itself, it became the newly established U.C.N.'s (Unified Coalition of Nations) first priority to get a handle on these super powered individuals before things escalated from bad to worse. A supervillain who would later go on to call himself “The Volcano” was the first to test the limits of this still burgeoning civilization. It wasn’t long before anyone with half a mind to stitch themselves a costume was running out in the streets playing vigilante with their unrestrained and untested powers. Imagine giving a room full of toddlers access to the nuclear launch codes and then stepping out for a smoke. It took them a whopping five years to fully establish and work the kinks out of the ESD (Electronic Superhuman Database); the defacto electronic record of every single registered supe currently known to any of the various governmental agencies around the world. Registered being the operative word, given the vast number of unchecked nutjobs running around in the world. By 2071, the unpowered world had become fed up with the rampant property destruction brought on by the ever raging super war. A decision was made, and all humans registered with the ESD were relocated to a large portion of the planet that was rendered more or less permanently unviable due to nuclear fallout. The heroes and villains didn't care all that much, just happy to have a new playground in which to do "great battle" with one another. No one was sure if it was a psychosomatic reaction, or an evolutionary trait invoked by the superhuman gene, but without a doubt these individuals loved fighting one another. In the current year of 2101, the population of villains outnumbered heroes five to one, and the rate of decline seemed to be exponential. A small group of heroes, known collectively as Sword & Shield, were at the forefront of the battlegrounds. Their small cadre consisted of The Tank, the leader - a beast of a man who was all but indestructible - Shadowlance, a woman that could phase through any type or state of matter, and Trinity; he was able to manipulate the elements of fire, water and wind any way he saw fit. Even though this trio was able to tackle any threats that had come their way thus far, they were all three keenly aware that it was only a matter of time before their luck ran out. Sure, the non-powered world had The Gallows, but it was no replacement for what groups like them could offer. As soon as the U.C.N. realized they had a bunch of superpowered serial killers on their hands, they needed a place to put them, and fast. By 2083, there were more than half a million registered superhumans globally. No agency had the exact figures, but by all accounts the number of undocumented supes was likely double that. Enter Crescendo; your run-of-the-mill sadistic mercenary for hire group run by a mysterious figurehead that subordinates only ever referred to as Alice. This particular outfit started establishing a name for itself in the early days of the “supe epidemic” by making a killing (literally) in the pursuit and apprehension of dangerous superhumans. It basically turned out to be a publicity campaign for them when foreign governments showed up at their door asking them to take care of the worst offenders that couldn’t be contained by conventional means. This brute squad got to work and converted a decommissioned old military base into Galloway Penitentiary for the Superhuman. It didn't take long for anyone who stayed there to understood why it earned the nom de guerre, “The Gallows”. Because it was a privately owned facility, things like “oversight” and “mutual respect” were very, very low on the priority list. So low, in fact, that they were largely nonexistent. The other glaringly odd thing was that no prisoner had ever seen this elusive Alice; but by god did they command the fear and respect of every officer and grunt working for them. Any time the name was mentioned, it was spoken with hushed tones of reverence. It was almost cult-like in the way they revered their leader, but the comparisons to a cult end there. At least with cults, there was the possibility of drug fueled sex parties (just don’t drink anything you’re offered). The Gallows did not have any good variety of either drugs or sex. Plenty of the bad though, in spades. Sword & Shield knew they would need help from the outside. Their first goal would be figuring out how to get over the wall dividing The Quarry - the expansive badlands where all supes were exiled - and the remainder of the world. Not only was every inch covered in antipersonnel artillery, but also various electrical and chemical defenses to cover the gamut of powers contained within. Thankfully, one member of this outfit had no trouble getting in - or out - of nearly any situation. Shadowlance's next mission would be locating the one man on the other side that might give them a fighting chance. There were many things the supervillains as a whole were resistant against. But over the years, there was one very specific aspect of human advancement they started to neglect -- science. And recently, there were murmurs whispered around the world about a non powered man who was fighting - and winning - against supervillains using nothing but his own inventions.


The stars are bright tonight. They shine so much brighter tonight because the whole city has been without electricity for almost 2 weeks now-an effect of the recent very devastating typhoon. But her eyes, though hidden behind her lids now as she takes shallow breaths beside me, are still the brightest. And I could stay in this moment forever if I could. Seal this (her, me, the skies, the lack of electricity, everything) in a capsule of a moment. "Hey", she whispers as she catches me watching her sleep. I used to blush and pretend to not have done what I was just caught doing. Now I just returned the greeting and kept watching her. So beautiful. She looked back up. At the sky. And I did the same. Just content in having her with me. Right now. In this moment. "What would you do if tomorrow, I told you that you only have 12 hours to pack your bags and decide whether to come with me somewhere far from here or not? No turning back. They'll hate us for leaving without a goodbye, anyway. We can't go back after leaving like that," she asked after a while. I was taken aback. She's always mentioned wanting to run away. But usually, she meant it as a thing she'd do alone. Never considered bringing me with her, she said. Never considered coming back for me either. So for her to say it like this took me by surprise. A bittersweet surprise. "I guess I can't really tell. Unless that time actually happens, that is," I replied. With that, she closed her eyes and slept again. I woke up the next day to find her gone. I looked for her around the place. I mean, she might have just woken up early and wanted to look around. So I checked the time first. On my phone. I saw that she left a message. Says she went home early to prepare for work. It only came to me then that today is Monday. So I went back home. It's 10 am. She'd have gone to work and been working for 1.5 hours now. I'll bring her some lunch instead and fetch her after her working hours. Today was good. I just dropped her home. We had a great dinner. Watched a movie even. I'll have to report back to work tomorrow too. God, I love her smile I called her phone this morning on my way to work. Make sure she wakes up early enough to at least shower. It didn't even ring. I'll drop by her place instead. It's only 6:40 anyway and I'll still be early if I took a quick detour to wake her up. Her door is closed. She must still be asleep. What a sleepyhead. 😅 I took the extra key from under the third cactus pot on her porch and sneaked in. This will be a good surprise. "Oh..." Her place is spotless. She's a bit OCD. But hella sleepy and lazy haha. She must have gotten bored. I sneaked into her room. Trying not to make a sound so I can make a good surprise. Everything is as they are. Except for the bed. That lay flat. "Oh.


She looks in the mirror, and all she sees are black stains upon her body. They grow and they undulate, pulsing as she watches. Stains. She cuts and scratches at them, scrubs herself bloody, but still they remain. Every person that has hurt her, has left her or has willfully ignored her has left their own stain. She stands, watching her naked body. Watching the marks as they feed on her untainted skin. It shines through pure white, in contrast to the dark, and everyday it grows less and less. She looks at herself and thinks impure, dirty, broken. She feels, at this point, she could identify the black mark to the person. Her childhood friend, who took advantage and ultimately abused her is the stain across her forehead. Her lover, who laid with another, is the stain across her neck. Her mother, who would hit and scream and curse, is the stain across her stomach. The man she considered a brother, who took the last of her pureness and her childhood, is the stain across her middle. Her father, uncaring as she was abused and hurt, is the stain across her arms, her wrists. Her grandparents, who blame themselves for her abuse, is the stain across her thighs. Yes, she could name a person to each stain. But none could compare to the stain steadily works it's way through her brain, it's greasy tendrils stroking and probing their way through. She feels it; at night, when she's trying to sleep; in the day, when she has nothing to do. It whispers to her in those quiet moments, it drains her as it grows to a monstrous size. It stains. This stain is the worst, as it is the one created from within. Darkness, depression, sadness. A feeling of not being enough, of letting those closest to her down. Of being less than she was, and making her truly believe that. Those awful tentacles of doubt and of sadness massage her brain, making her think what they want, not what she wants. They drown out any other voice, with a sickening chorus that drones and drones and drones. A constant, it stains how she talks and how she feels; how she acts and how she thinks. It is endless. The pills didn't work to stop it's insidious spread, nor did the alcohol. Still, she would fill her senses and ignore her pain with that cutting spirit, to try and forget the horrors of days well past. All the while, not realising that it directly lent itself to the horrors of her current days. Sleepless nights and words she wished unsaid, actions done that were forever irrevocable. She feels these indelible marks every waking moment. They haunt her, they are the glance out of the corner of her eye and the whisper heard in an empty room. She spends her days terrified that those around her will see them too, and think her too dirty. Too damaged. Beyond help. Yet, daily, those around her prove her wrong. Their love and their warmth waken her heat, keep it beating. Slowly but surely, their love will help to shrink those awful stains. They will never be gone, not truly, but they can be minimised; can be worked around. For she is not made of her stains, but made of the clean, unmarked skin around them. The people who caused those stains do not deserve those black marks upon her skin, do not deserve the daily woes they cause her. They do not deserve the awful feeling that accompanies any kind of abuse, the feeling of 'I am now a victim', which is screamed at you by every professional around. A hand thrusts through the riptide, and is grasped by the golden light of those around her, pulling her out of that deep, dark sea. A thousand hands, gripping and grabbing and helping her stand on solid ground. She is better than her stains, and she has and always will be a survivor.


I’d like to tell you a story of a young man by the name of Courtney who had a good father who loved him with all of his heart. Now it was on Courtney’s 7th birthday that he sat down with his father and his father spoke to him saying this. “Son, oh my son. I’s your birthday today, and you are 7 years old. You are old enough now to go on and walk to the playground all by yourself to play with the other boys and girls.” He said, “Son, I know that it can get cold out there on the way to the playground so I got something for you.” So Courtney’s father reached deep in the closet and pulled out a present wrapped up in wrapping paper. When he opened it up he found a Jacket that fit him just right. And Courtney loved the jacket more than he loved his father who gave it to him. The next day, Courtney got up early in the morning and put on his brand new jacket. He said to his father, “Daddy, I’m on my way to go to the playground and play with the other boys and girls.” And his father said, “Son, you go on and have fun now, but make sure that you get home before the streetlights come on.” And Courtney said, “Don’t worry daddy, I’ll be here.” So he went out, and he went to the playground. There were other children there, and when they saw him they said “Hey Courtney, that sure is a fine jacket.” And they played catch, frisbee, and tag. Now when it started to get late in the evening Courtney said “Yall, I had better start to getting home. See my daddy said that I ought to be home before the streetlights come on.” Those kids didn’t like that so they tried to convince him to stay. They said “Courtney, why would you want to leave when we are having so much fun.” But Courtney said, “No, I had better be getting home.” They said, “You must think your better than us because you follow different rules. Come on and play with us and we won’t be offended.” But Courtney said, “No, I had better be getting home.” They said, “Maybe you misunderstood your daddy. Cause why would a good father like yours not want you to have fun. Come on and play with us, and I’m sure, it will be alright.” But Courtney said, “No, I had better be getting home.” They said, “If you stay, we’ll give you our candy for the rest of the week.” But Courtney said, “No, I had better be getting home.” They started to get mad at Courtney. And they told him “If you don’t stay and play with us, we’re gonna take your Jacket and throw it in the garbage can.” That one made Courtney scared because he loved his Jacket. He said, “Alright, I’ll stay and play with you.” And they played catch, frisbee, and tag. By the time they were through, it was around about 10:00. When Courtney got home, he found his Father waiting on the couch. He asked him, “Son, why did you stay out, past when I told you to come home?” And Courtney told his father everything that happened. “All of those things I was able to say no, but when they said they were going to take my jacket and throw it in the garbage can I was afraid.” So Courtney’s father took the jacket off of Courtney’s back. And through it, in the garbage can. Then he went up to Courtney’s room and got all of the toys out of the toybox and threw them in the garbage can too. He looked at Courtney deep in the eyes and said, “Son, oh my son, why were you so afraid of the ones who could take your jacket and throw it in the garbage can. You should have been afraid of the one who could through away your jacket, and throw you into the cold by yourself.


[HM] The Day I Went to the Worst Doctor in the Universe The Day I Went to the Worst Doctor in the Universe One day I just knew it was happening, or I should probably say, and this is what alarmed me and Jim (more so me, because I still don’t know if Jim was just pretending to be alarmed when I told him, just because he thought it was what a normal person would do) what WASN’T happening. I couldn't feel my blood pumping and I knew if I didn’t do something about it then it could probably be harmful. I don’t know exactly how long you can go without your blood pumping before you start to feel some ill effects, and I wasn’t going to sit around all day waiting to find out. “You should probably go to the doctors” said Jim, “it would be very interesting to at least hear what they would say when you tell them, don’t you think? Maybe you should even record it so we can play it to our other friends so they know what to do if the THEIR blood stops pumping.” I still don’t know if he actually cared because it almost sounded like he wasn’t as concerned as he was trying to sound, almost sounding sarcastic or something. “Yep, you’re right”, I said. After a shower and a change of clothes, I startws the long walk down to the doctors, and luckily Jim came along for the walk because he said he really didn’t want to wait to hear what the doctor said. Jim’s car was broken and it was a really hot day so the walk wasn’t very fun. About halfway there I told Jim I was pretty sure that my blood had completely stopped pumping all together, because I couldn’t feel it. “Maybe we should run the rest of the way,” said Jim, “you don’t want to go for too many hours without your blood pumping” and I agreed. He was a faster runner than me, so he kept looking back telling me to try and run a bit faster, just to be safe. By the time we finally got to the doctors I was pretty puffed, and because I don’t do too much running my heart was going like crazy. Jim said he would wait outside near the smoke shop so he didn’t get in the way of the doctors, but said he would wait all day if he had to just to hear what the doctor had to say when I was finished and came back out again. “Thanks,” I said, because I was glad that he had my back, so I went inside. “I need to see a doctor, it’s an emergency, because my blood has stopped pumping”, I said. The nurse shook her head at me and said there were others waiting to see the doctor with more serious problems than mine. There must have been something funny on the TV in the waiting room, because one man started laughing into his handkerchief and said that I could take his spot, because he wanted to be around to also hear the doctor’s results, but I don’t think he really cared at all and just wanted to keep watching whatever funny thing he was laughing at. Just at that point the doctor came out and called the man’s name, and the man motioned at me and said “you go in mate, you obviously need some serious help from somebody”, but he almost had a smirk so I really don’t’ think he cared as much as he pretended. As I went into the doctor’s room, the doctor was a little puzzled as to what why we were switching. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked. “It doesn’t seem to be a problem, it actually IS a problem, otherwise I wouldn’t I wouldn’t even be here,” I said. “Then what IS the problem?” he corrected himself. “My blood isn’t pumping, and I’m no doctor but I’m pretty sure that could be serious if left to go on for too long,” I said, showing my concern. He gave me the strangest look and after a few seconds asked “how did you get here?” I thought that was a strange thing to ask so I said “what does that have anything to do with it?” He responded with “No, I’m serious, how did you get here?” Happy that he was now finally being serious I told him that I walked half the way and then ran the rest of the way. “How long do you think your blood has not been pumping?” He continued. “Well luckily me and Jim didn’t go to sleep last night so at least I know it didn’t stop in my sleep. I haven’t felt like it was pumping since about morning time.” He took a deep breath, slumped back in his chair, and looked like he was thinking about his diagnosis. “You’re fine,” he said, “just go back home and try and get some sleep.” I was astonished. “I can’t believe this! Aren’t you at least going to do some tests like they do on tv with a testing machine or something? How long until it starts pumping again?” I asked. “Have you and your friend been taking any illicit substances in the last 24 hours?” he asked, but I was clued on to him. I tapped the side of my head knowingly and said I’m too smart for him, and that he can’t trick me into admitting to taking all the methamphetamines that me and Jim smoked last night and this morning and that we didn’t even have any left anyway so nobody couldn’t prove anything. He almost chuckled before regaining himself as if to remember that he was a professional and needed to act like one. “You’re fine, just go home, and maybe lay off the illicit substances,” he said, then got up and opened the door, motioning for me to leave. “This is ridiculous,” I yelled, “how can you for one minute think I’ll be fine with no blood pumping in me?” and stood up from my chair. He rolled his eyes and reached for something on his shelf. At least he was taking me serious now and was maybe getting the testing machine. “Well, for one, you’re standing upright, and two…” he said thrusting a mirror in my face. “You see those veins popping out of your forehead?” he asked. He had made me so mad that the veins were almost popping out, and I could even see them in my neck. “If your blood wasn’t pumping then you wouldn’t see that” he continued, then almost pushed me out of his doctors room. He was right! That doctor had made me so angry that I think my blood started pumping again. He may have cured me, but surely there are better ways to heal people in this day and age. As I walked away I heard the man in the doctor’s waiting room almost crying but trying to hide it from me, so obviously something sad was now playing on the TV. When I walked outside, Jim was there with a big smile, and you could see he couldn’t wait to hear what had happened. I told him everything and he fell to the ground holding his stomach, and started slapping the ground with his eyes shut, his mouth open more wider than I had ever seen it. Was Jim’s blood now not pumping also? Luckily, we were right outside the doctors, so I told him he better get up and go inside because his blood might not be pumping also, but he only started slapping the ground even harder. When I started calling for the nurse he quickly started to come round again and said told me to stop calling the nurse and that he was fine. He said he was just happy to hear I was okay. He was so happy he even had tears running down his face and was breathing funny. We then walked back home as Jim replayed the recording of my doctor visit over and over with a smile, while I was just thankful my blood was pumping, thankful I didn’t fall for the doctor’s tricks to admitting to drug use, and also happy that I was only lying to the doctor when I told him we didn’t have any left. The End. By Nathan Egbert.


"I pity you." The Hero said through the blood and ash. A half-delirious chuckle slipped from their lips, soft and melodious and just the tiniest bit unhinged. "Truly, I do." The Monster snarled in return, golden eyes alight with furious hatred. Its jagged maw released a guttural growl, sharp and deep and wrong in all the ways that matter. Like the world cried with every breath it took - became lesser with every second of its existence. **"Pity me?"** It sneered in contempt, obsidian fangs glinting wickedly like daggers made from deepest recesses of the blackest oceans - a void that devoured whatever it touched, light and all. **"You are broken, Hero! Forsaken and alone. Here you stand, without allies and without hope for victory. Fighting for people you do not know - for a cause born of naivete and self-deceit. Yet you dare pity me? You? Who raised their blade against fate? Who lies bloodied and beaten like swine?** A bark of laughter rose from the Monster's throat - a misshapen mold of a growl and a bellow that distorted the skies. It pounded its tail and fractured the mountains with its every corroding step. It spread its titanic wings and blackened the sky with its every deafening roar. It bared its cruel and blood-soaked maw in a vindictive grin and poisoned the air with its every rancid breath. **"Fool! I am the abyss! The oblivion! The endless night! I am inevitability. And you? You are a mere grain of sand hoping to dry the seas. A speck of cosmic dust seeking to devour a star. You are nothing."** Hoarfrost spread with its every word, biting and chilling ice that sapped the life of everything that it touched. The shadows seemed to beckon from its feet, stifling and tempting, and ah, would it not be so much better to simply lay down and rest? Would it not be easier to find peace with it all? Just let go. Let it all go and there would be no further suffering. But the Hero does not fall. The Hero does not submit. The shadows writhe and curl and lunge but their taint breaks under the Hero's steadfast form like waves parting before the cliff's edge. And as the darkness recoils, the Hero speaks again, "And that is why I pity you." The Hero stands - armored hands dragging like lead weights and strained muscles screaming in agony with every effort, yet they stand, regardless - and then smiled beautifully at the Monster. "You, the abyss, who knows of destruction and nothing of creation. You, the oblivion, who knows only solitude and nothing of existence. You, the endless night, who knows only of cold and nothing of warmth." The Hero leveled their sword at the beast's chest and granted it the sight of their derisive smirk. "You, the inevitability, who knows only of resignation and nothing of rebellion against the chains that bind you. I pity you. Born without choice. A slave to your own nature." The Monster snarled, caustic spit dripping from its pitch-black jaws. **"You are insane."** The Hero tilted their head and shrugged. "Heroes often are. We are a confusing bunch, no? Though at this very moment, I can assure you. I am the sanest I have ever been in all my life. There is nowhere in this realm that I would rather be than right at this very spot. The Hero spread their arm with a grand flourish and released a melodic laugh - warm and carelessly wondrous as a summer breeze. "Standing here, I have never before felt so alive." Two hands rose, gripped the pommel of a glowing blade. Light hummed steadily from its hallowed edge, glowing then dimming then glowing again like a heart of forged steel that had come to life. "So, I should thank you, beast. For this...this feeling is the finest gift anyone could have ever granted upon mine self. And I can only think of one suitable way to repay mine debt to thee." The Hero closed their eyes and began to pray. Not to any god. Not to any demon. This was not a prayer that would touch their unworthy ears. These words were only meant for those with the potential to be so much greater. "Hear my voice and acknowledge my call, my brothers and sisters! Let all of creation bear witness to our kin of flame!" The winds began to thunder furiously, carrying a valorous war cry to the corners of all of creation. It swirled and converged as if the very air was dancing to the Hero's orchestration. The light that had once been so dim became a beacon, piercing the veil of shadows that had fallen upon the land with its resplendence. Rays of luminescence crashed against the tide and began to push back. The Monster roared in outrage. Titanic claws called down curses that poisoned the Earth. Its voracious jaws raged and spewed spells that sundered the soul. Its wings swept forward a darkness that eclipsed the very stars. Yet the Hero stood against the tide - proud and stalwart in the eye of the growing storm - unbowed, unfaltering, and unforgiving. "Oh, divines above! Look down and tremble before your usurpers! Oh, mortals below! Awaken and rage against the Fates that imprison you!" The Hero's blade rose higher in a solemn salute, and Death wavered in fear. "Follow me unto the great beyond and bear witness to a miracle. Now and forevermore, let this moment be our song! A Gloria that will echo throughout all of time!" The blade was swung. And the world was bathed in radiant light.


After a long day at work Patrick finally sat down in front of his computer. He’s been waiting for this moment since he woke up from bed. Finally he will be able to fulfill his daily wish. Everyday, an endless cycle of going to work, eating lunch, going home, sometimes eating dinner, and sitting in front of his computer. Except on Sundays. Sundays are Elly Days. He would pick up Elly and spending the whole day with her. Watching movies at the cinemas, going to the aquarium world, picnicking at the park, you name it. With a press of a button, his computer whirred with computer sounds. He could hear the cooling fan running, he could hear the beeping sounds it makes every time it turns on. His monitor lit up. He entered his password and logged into his instant messaging software. His face lit up with excitement when he saw “David” online. David is his online friend. Although they have never met in real life they traded a few pictures with each other. They met in an MMORPG. A game which players around the world play in several servers under the same name, leveling up their characters, joining guilds, and play as wizards, warriors, knights, and many more. Patrick: busy? David: nahh.. Patrick: Can I call you? David: Sure! He clicked the telephone icon under David’s name. “Testing,” Patrick said. “I can hear you,” David replied. “Nice. what are you doing?” he asked. “I’m grinding at treant right now, loot drop raised to fifty percent till the end of the week,” David answered. His microphone detected his keyboard mashing and mouse clicking. “I could use some help tho.” “Alright, hold on. I’m logging in.” They spent a couple of round grinding at the spot. Patrick is a Wizard, his main role is to deal a high amount of damage to the enemies while being squishy. So he has to rely on someone else tanking the damage. That role is filled by David who is a knight. A knight can switch his roles between offence and defence. While in offence mode, he would wield a two handed long sword. Shield and a short sword while in defence. “Would be nice to have a healer instead of relying on these potions, haha! I’m running low on them,” David laughed. “I can heal you, but it won’t be as good as a bard or a witch’s heal,” Patrick replied. “Your heal is enough.” Patrick alternated between damaging the treants and keeping his tank alive by healing him. “Hey,” David said. “What?” “You’re gonna be there right?” David asked. “Be where?” “This Sunday, at two o’clock, World Boss. Everyone and their grandmother is gonna be there,” he said. “And there’s a chance of getting the dragon’s heart as a reward. They’re worth millions of gold in the central market. Players would buy them to get the slight extra damage in Guild Wars.” “No, I can’t Sundays are for-” “Elly. I know.” David replied with a hint of sorrow in his voice. “Come on, I promised my mother I’d take her out every week,” Patrick tried to console. “Everytime I spent time with her, I’d imagine what if she…” “Didn’t have down syndrome?” David finished. “Yeah. She could have a happy life,” Patrick replied. “You wouldn’t know that,” David said. “What?” Patrick asked. “What if she’s happier now the way she is than being normal like the rest of us,” David replied. “Because she got to go out with her little brother every week! I promise you that being with you is the highlight of her week.” “I never thought of it that way,” Patrick was in awe. “Yeah dude, if my brother comes every-” Patrick heard a door slammed in his headphones followed by a crying child screaming. “Oops, hold on dude,” David said. A muffled woman’s voice can be heard saying “All you do is spend time with your goddamned computer!” David forgot to mute his microphone. “Lisa. Honey. I’m begging you for two hours of alone time, just for me. The rest I spend it with you, the child, and work. This two hours is all I have, Lisa.” David begged. “Then what about crying Jimmy right here?!” she shouted. “I put him to sleep before I- It was you! You chatted loudly with your friends on the phone, laughing like there’s no tomorrow, waking him up!” David snapped. “Even this dude on the other line could f\*cking hear you!” “Ahem,” Patrick coughed. David noticed that he didn’t mute his microphone. “Sorry you had to hear that, Patrick,” he ended the call. Patrick sat silent for a moment. “I wish you were with me here instead of her. You make me happy,” Patrick said to his microphone. No one else on the other line.


Sarah dug her toes in the cool and soft sand, letting each granule tickle between her toes as she wiggled deeper. Tears silently fell down her cheeks while she watched the sun slowly rise above the horizon. It cast a hue of violent reds and deep oranges reminiscent of fire. The bright yellow of the sun’s body appeared and menacingly increased in size and intensity. Sarah held her gaze toward the sun until her eyes naturally reacted with blinking away the sting. She turned away and wiped her face. She held a fistful of sand in her other hand and squeezed the bits of beach in her palm. She squeezed until the blood rushed from her knuckles, turning them white. A notification beep sounded on her phone and snapped her back to reality. She dropped the sand and dusted her palms on her jeans. Her cell phone beeped again to indicate a new message. She swiped the screen and opened her notifications. Twenty-seven missed calls and twice as many unread messages. Most of them were from her sister wondering where she was, begging her to call her back, and getting infuriated with Sarah’s avoidance. Sarah decided to ignore the missed notifications and opened the holo news app on her phone. Through a small projector built into the phone, a holographic screen appeared before Sarah. A news anchor in a tight navy blue suit appeared on the screen, shuffling a few holo pads on the desk in front of him. He stared blankly into the camera for a few moments. In those few moments, Sarah could see the look of fear and panic in his eyes. The light blue tint of his skin due to the holo display sent a chill through Sarah. He looked robotic. “Good morning, to all who are watching. I know it is not a good morning. Not in the least. After last night’s emergency Presidential Address to the nation, I believe I can speak for everyone here, on behalf of the station. There will be no weather reports for today. No traffic reports. There will be no news other than this one thing.” His monotonous tone somehow comforted Sarah as she started to feel disconnected with herself. It lulled her into a sense of apathy as the anchor continued. “Seven years ago, we learned of a celestial body hurtling through space toward our little blue marble. Identified as a hypervelocity star, we nicknamed it Telos. Scientists do not have an exact reason why this star appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Possible theories include a collision with another object that sent it off course, or a slingshot from a rogue black hole. Whatever the case may be, we thought we had more time. The president confirmed last night that today, June 14th, in the year 2239, is the last day for our world. Today, we will spend our last precious hours with our families and loved ones. We will replay previously recorded interviews with experts in the field until the end. From all of us at the station, we thank you for your attention.” Sarah listened for a few moments longer while the attention of the news program turned to well known scientists and astronomers. They spoke of NASA’s involvement, the ship that was sent to try to knock the star off course but failed miserably, and the failed Mars colonization that took place two centuries ago, which ultimately ruined any possible future colonization efforts. Sarah flicked off the projection and closed her phone. The sun was now hanging low but in full view in the sky. Due to the star’s proximity, the sky became a constant bright orange for the last four months whenever it was daylight. A few degrees to the right, she could she the small but bright spot in the sky. It's bigger today than yesterday. It became visible at night a year ago. It became visible during the day a few months ago. Sarah inhaled sharply and checked the time on her watch. The digital display lit up as she waved her hand over it. 7:08 a.m. She decided it was time to go home. Her sister will be livid with her. She found it silly to care about things anymore. After last night’s address, and the last few months’ events, Sarah has stopped caring about anything. She stood up and lightly stretched her arms and neck. She slipped into her sandals and brushed off any remaining sand. The air was already thick and hot. Beads of sweat were forming on her neck as she made her way off the beach and to the transit station. As she walked the seven blocks to the station, advertisements jumped out at her, but the street was seemingly empty, save for a few looters and those that had nowhere else to go. Most people are at home with their families, spending whatever time the world had left with their loved ones. A few screens had news vids on. Sarah heard bits and pieces of scientific experts, reporters, and celebrities cashing in their two cents on the matter. One thing she didn’t hear anyone say was what was going to happen once the star reached our atmosphere. Sarah wondered if anything would even be alive by then. She heard that most likely, the star’s radiation would destroy the atmospheric layers and sun flares would scorch the earth, killing everything before impact. She shook her head and focused on the path to the transit station. There wasn’t even any time to declare martial law, or organize a military roundup, or whatever the government would have done in preparation. She reached the transit station and punched in her identification code on the display, then let the machine scan the chip in her wrist. The light rail trains were automated and still ran even though today was the last day of existence. She was thankful for that. She couldn’t imagine being stranded out here alone. And yet, she almost didn’t want to leave and go home. Another notification dinged on her phone. Her sister was calling again. She took a breath and swiped to answer. “Hello.” She humbly answered. “What the hell, Sarah? Where have you been?” Her sister, Katy, yelled, furious at Sarah. “I know. I’m sorry. I just needed time alone. I’m heading home now.” “Just hurry.” Sarah ended the call before responding, indicated her destination on the map, and waited for the train. Within a minute, it arrived and the metallic doors creaked open to empty cabins. She stepped off the platform and into the cold cabin. Multiple train cars, linked together, were completely empty. A few pieces of trash were strewn about, that will never be picked up. Sarah picked the closest seat to the door and plopped down, exhausted. Her eyes closed for what seemed like only a second before her identification chip buzzed inside her wrist, indicating that her stop was approaching. The train came to a halt and the doors once again creaked open. She stepped out onto the platform and stood in place, waiting for the train to depart. Her heels played with the edge of the platform. Once the train left, she felt a rush of air against her back. She loved that part. It made her feel alive. Slightly smiling at the fleeting normalcy of the moment, she walked the rest of the way to her home. She reached the steps to her townhome and stood at her front door, hesitant to walk in. Every fiber of her being told her to just run away. Go back to the beach and stay there until it’s all over. Run down the street. Find the closest skyscraper and just end everything early. Her legs tingled with adrenaline. Her toes tapped with anticipation. Katy opened the door before she could make a decision and she reluctantly walked in. “Get in here now.” Katy always told her what to do. Katy walked briskly into the kitchen and began to wipe her 18 month old’s face from the morning’s syrup and pancakes. Josie, Sarah’s niece, played gleefully with her toy blocks, blissfully unaware of the day’s agenda. “I really wish you’d change your mind and come with us. We’re all meeting upstate.” “No. We’ve talked about this. I’m better off staying here.” Sarah played with a loose thread on the hem of her shirt. “They’ve never accepted me. I’d rather not spend my last moments avoiding their judging gazes.” “It’s not like that.” Katy stopped her menial chores at the sink and turned around to face Sarah. She put her hands on her shoulders and looked at her with the same fake concern that she always had. “You’re family. They will be happy you came.” “No. I’m staying.” “Okay. I understand.” Sarah nodded and kept silent. Katy sighed heavily and pulled Sarah in for a tight hug. Katy was shaking uncontrollably and began to sob. Sarah instinctively wrapped her arms around her sister and rubbed her back. “It’s okay.” Sarah tried her best to speak in a comforting tone. “No it’s not. This can’t be the end. I don’t want to die. I don’t want Josie to die. She’ll never be able to grow up. Or know love. It just isn’t fair.” “Katy, let’s not think about what could have been. Let’s just live for the moment. However many we have left.” “I love you, Sarah. More than you know.” “I love you, too, Katy.” They held each other for a long while before pulling apart. Katy finished packing what supplies she needed to make the short drive to the rest of what was left of their family. “What will you do with your time?” Katy asked through tears. “I’m not sure. I don’t know yet.” “If you change your mind…” “I know.” Sarah helped Katy pack up her car, hugged and kissed Josie and her sister, then watched them drive away from the steps of her townhome. Once they were out of sight, she walked back inside and made her final preparations. She took a long and relaxing bath. She cooked her favorite meal and ate to her heart’s content. She popped open a bottle of wine and worked on a painting she’s had in progress for months. Once the sun began to set she decided to go out for a walk. She put on her favorite party dress and strappy sandals. She contoured and dramatized her makeup to the best of her ability. She put extra time into her hair and dabbed her favorite perfume on her neck and wrists. Leaving her townhome, she felt it silly to lock her front door and opted to leave it unlocked. Afterall, she wasn’t coming back. Looking at her home one last time, she headed down the street to her favorite night spot nearby. She looked around at the tall townhomes lining the street. She could hear a few hushed conversations through open windows. However, the city has never been this quiet before. She shook off the eerie feeling and continued walking. Once she arrived, she didn’t expect to see many people. In fact, she thought there might not be anyone around. However, there she stood at the entrance to the patio bar she frequented and saw it was full of patrons. A large holographic sign projected on the building’s wall exclaimed “FREE DRINKS FOR THE END OF THE WORLD”. She chuckled to herself and opened the vintage gate to the patio. The familiar bartender waved enthusiastically to Sarah as she approached the bar. Soft music played from a piano in the corner. Everyone talked in low and hushed voices, giving the bar its familiar atmosphere that she enjoyed the most. “Hey, Tyler, the usual, please.” “Right away, Sarah.” The bartender with kind eyes and dark curly hair poured Sarah’s favorite whiskey and winked as he handed it to her. “You didn’t want to spend tonight with family?” she asked after sipping her drink. “They’re on the other side of the world. There was no way to get to them in time. We said our goodbyes on the phone earlier today. This is where I want to be now.” “Cheers, Tyler.” Sarah raised her glass and bumped the air in an imaginary toast gesture. She turned in her seat and looked out among the crowd. Watching people laugh and joke with their friends, she slowly sipped her whiskey and soon noticed she was smiling at the seemingly positive vibes of the evening. She also noticed a few tearful faces and a few engaged in deep conversations. Here, in this crowded bar, she felt the loneliest she’d ever felt. At the same time, she felt the happiest. There were no longer any expectations of her or standards to live up to. It was freeing in a sense that responsibility was completely gone. She spent the evening mingling with random small groups in the crowd, involving herself in serious philosophical discussions, and danced with strangers. Once they reached early morning hours, many people had cleared out. They’ve gone home, went to another bar, or went home with a lover for the night. Wherever they went, they weren’t alone. Sarah ended the night at the bar, talking with Tyler about various things that didn’t matter anymore. University, work, family. Whatever they could to keep their minds off of the end. “Should be happening any time now.” Tyler mentioned quietly during a break in the conversation. “I wonder what that will feel like?” Sarah gazed at the last few drops of liquor in her glass. “By that I mean, will we feel like we’re burning, or will it be so instant that we won’t feel a thing?” “I don’t know, but I hope it’s the latter.” “So do I.” “Sarah, I’m calling it a night. I’m just going to pour myself one last drink.” Tyler refilled her glass and poured himself one. “Are you going to be okay?” Sarah nodded and smiled dryly. “Goodnight, Tyler. Thank you, for everything.” Tyler smiled back and made his way to a red overstuffed couch in the corner. He laid his head back and fell asleep. Sarah, took one last long sip of her drink and made her way down the street to the transit station. The streets were more deserted than she had ever seen them. Trash littered the sidewalks from looters and activity. She set her destination to the beach and stepped onto the platform. Thankfully, the unmanned train arrived quickly and she entered the cabin. The five minute ride to the beach was quiet and oddly peaceful. When the train stopped, she lingered for a moment before stepping off. The summer air was hot and sticky. Her hair matted itself against her face as she walked onto the beach and up to the tide. Sarah sat down on the warm sand and played with the grains for a moment. She relished in the moment, contemplating that it was her last. A dull orange haze filled the sky until it turned into a bright white light. Tears streamed down her face once more as her breathing became heavy and labored through the heat. Loud crashing sounds of explosions around her deafened her ears. She resisted the urge to run. When the light from the star became unbearable, she closed her eyes. Waves of strange euphoria washed over her from the star’s light and heat. She smiled one last time.


#Welcome to Serial Sunday! To those brand new to the feature and those returning for round two, welcome! This is the perfect time for you to join in on the fun, as we re-launch Serial Saturday to better suit all of our readers and writers out there. We’ve heard your feedback, and our hope is to make this feature useful to writers of all genres, backgrounds, and skill levels. To our returning Serial Saturday participants, we hope you’ve had a wonderful break and are ready to dive back in. As we’ve made a few changes, please remember to read the entire post before submitting!   ***   #This week's theme is Emergence! As your characters are coming into themselves, what will emergence mean for them and what effect will it have on the world around them? Will they rise from the ashes into someone new? Will they break the chains holding them back? Maybe the world is emerging from a place or time of darkness that has plagued its inhabitants. The interpretation is completely up to you. /   ***   #Theme Schedule: We recognize that writing a serial can take some bit of planning. Each week we will be releasing the following 2 weeks’ themes here in the Schedule section of the post. * January 31- Emergence (this week) * February 7- Secrets * February 14- Illusion   ***   #How It Works: In the comments below, submit a story that is between 500 - 850 words in your own original universe, inspired by this week’s theme. (Using the theme word is welcome but not necessary.) This can be the beginning of a brand new serial or an installment in your in-progress serial. You have until 7pm EST the following Saturday to submit your story.   ***   #The Rules: * All top-level comments must be a story. Use the stickied comment for off-topic discussion and questions you may have. * Your story must be written for this post. Pre-written content will not be allowed. * Your story should be 500-850 words. Use to check your word count. * While the name has changed to “Serial Sunday”, the deadline is still 7pm the following Saturday. Stories submitted after the deadline will not be eligible for rankings and will not be read during campfire. * Begin your post with the name of your serial between triangle brackets (e.g. <My Awesome Serial>). You **must** use the same serial name for each installment of your serial. If not, our bot won’t recognize your serial installments. * Submissions are limited to one serial submission from each author per week. * Each author must leave a comment on at least 2 other stories during the course of the week. That comment should include at least one detail about what the author has done well. Failing to meet the 2 comment requirement will disqualify you from weekly rankings. You have until the following Sunday at 12pm EST to fulfill your feedback requirements. * While content rules are more relaxed here at r/ShortStories, we’re going to roll with the loose guidelines of "vaguely family friendly" being the rule of thumb for now. If you’re ever unsure if your story would cross the line, feel free to modmail!   ***   #Reminders: * Make sure your post on this thread also includes links to your previous installments, if you have a currently in-progress serial. Those links must be direct links to the previous installment on the preceding Serial Saturday/Sunday posts or to your own subreddit or profile. But an in-progress serial is not required to start. You may jump in at any time. * Saturdays we will be hosting a Serial Campfire on the discord main voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and share your own thoughts on serial writing! We start at 7pm EST. You can even come to just listen, if that’s more your speed. Don’t worry about being late, just join! * You can nominate your favorite stories each week. Send me a message on discord, reddit, or through modmail and let me know by 12pm EST the following Sunday. You do not have to attend the campfires to make nominations. * Authors who successfully finish a serial with at least 8 installments will be featured with a modpost recognizing their completion and a flair banner on the subreddit. Authors are eligible for this highlight post only if they have followed the 2 feedback comments per thread rule.


First parts can be read here, Part 5, Please Enjoy, feel free to critique. The more input the better. I had to late post, work has taken up a lot of my time. Thank you to whatever loyal readers I have, I promise I'm always trying to improve. \ I stood in the woods watching the wildlife around me. Stark was behind me with the rifle I had assembled for her, slung over her shoulder. Fenrir was at my left side, off maybe fifteen or twenty feet keeping pace with me. I could hear Stark huffing and puffing behind me as we paused to listen and watch. We had been out all yesterday and today, finding that we were near the top of the hill. I had seen what was east, so I went West yesterday and now I was going north. I had decided we could snag that second cache today and bring it back as well knocking two birds out with one stone. We continued on our course for another hour, keeping quiet. We had not spoken much and I wasn’t sure if this was my doing because I was quiet. Or if there just wasn’t a topic between the two of us that could be brought up. I had the shotgun cradled in my arms as I walked and I could hear Stark’s heavy feet behind me. Deep inside I was growing annoyed with her clumsy movements out here. “Could we take a break please?” she asked me out of breath. I turned back facing her as I stopped. “Now?” I asked. “Please?” she nodded. “Are you fucking kidding?” I grumbled. I took a knee and sighed as she sat on a large rock. She set the rifle aside and I could hear her noisily undoing the hook on her camelback. She drank loudly and every single noise was like crashing glass to my ears. “Is something bothering you?” she asked me bluntly. I turned my head looking at her out of the corner of my eye and I really thought about what I should say. “You are the noisiest person on patrol,” I said to her just as bluntly. “We aren't in combat, the enemy isn’t lurking around the next tree,” she said to me returning the annoyed tone. I stayed quiet not wanting to argue over the matter. She was right, but I belonged to a much different profession despite our military link. “You’re struggling to keep up at a normal pace, should I leave you behind next time?” I snapped. *That came out much more rude than I meant*. I thought to myself. “Look buddy, I’m not some grunt. I’m not attached to a groundside unit. My only postings have been aboard ships as a receiving triage technician. I have literally never set foot groundside in a combat role. Dick,” she said to me. I cringed as I had now realized just how rude I was being. I had not really thought about that, I was used to rucking with a hundred pounds of junk on my back, 20 miles or more a day, patrolling long hours into night and morning. Sleeping for only a few hours and sustaining off of minimal food. I was expecting a person whose job was to dwell on a ship, to keep up with me. I tried to give my attitude a one eighty and I turned to face her better. “I’m sorry,” I said to her. “I will slow my pace,” “Mmm,” she replied but I could see the annoyance in her face. “Ready,” she said, ignoring my apology and standing up. I rose to my feet and continued on my course but making an effort to take smaller and slower steps. We walked in silence again but I could tell she was struggling less to keep up and she wasn’t gasping for air anymore. I felt something in my throat as I was exerting myself. This whole trip I had been clearing my throat and finally I had enough and was able to cough. It was wet and thick like the end of a bad cold. I hacked up a thick bitter mucus and spat it out. It hit the ground and I looked down to see a wet chunk of thick black. I cringed. “Did you just spit that up?” Stark asked me. “Uh… yeah,” I said to her as we both stared at it. “You said you inhaled those spores?” she asked. I nodded, “did that hurt?” “No,” I admitted. Before she could say anything I shrugged, “let’s just keep moving, I’ll let you know if it gets worse,” I said burying my fear. The deep inner fear that there was a mushroom farm growing in my lungs. She didn’t protest only following me. As we traveled through the woods, I looked up and in the near distance I could make out what almost looked like a mountain. It stretched high above to tree tops and I could clearly see it rose almost at a right angle at its face. I stopped and tried to get a better look in the dim light. I could tell that the top of this formation was a ridge and probably a relatively flat surface. “What is that?” Stark asked. “It looks like a monadnock,” I said back to her absent-mindedly. “A what?” she asked. “It’s like a…” I thought about it. “Like a small mountain where mountains don’t normally form. This one is huge though,” I said to her trying to explain. “Oh,” she said as she took a deep breath. I could tell she was winded. “We should go look at it,” I said. “Like climb it?” she asked. I shook my head in reply. “No, it would be too windy on top and too much exposure to weather, I don’t see any tree cover or anything up there,” I said. We continued our slow pace until the ground began to slope. As we approached the base of the mountain the sloping would get too steep to comfortably continue, I noticed a large dark alcove about the size of a large grown man. I approached the dark hole and pulled out a small flashlight. I shined the bright LED light into the entrance seeing that this was a cave. It looked like the rocks over the top of the cave jutted out and created a sort of rooftop. The water drained directly down and pooled at the mouth of the entrance. I stepped into the entrance about half a foot and checked the inside. It consisted of a large chamber and I could feel a draft coming into the opening. The ceiling looked like it gently arched overhead, and the footing looked to be solid rock. The back of the chamber veered off the the right and I could see that I could fit probably ten people comfortably inside of this chamber. I could hear the soft click of Fenrir’s paws as he stepped into the cave and I eased slightly seeing that he was comfortable with this setting. I stepped in further and headed to the back of the cave. I could see that it opened into a smaller chamber. This smaller room led off to the right more, and as I followed this around I could see that it led to a third even smaller chamber that was the size of a large closet or bathroom. I realized that there was light in this room, and I could see a hole about the size of a basketball in the ceiling. I looked back and realized we had walked on a downslope and we were under ground level here. “Corporal?” I heard Stark called to me. The echo spooked me slightly, surprising me. “HM3!” I called back sarcastically. I pat my leg for Fenrir and I walked back up the slope to the main chamber. I could see Stark had set her pack down and she was sitting with her back to the wall. She had her head back and her eyes closed. She looked to me without moving her head and closed them again. “Why did we come in here?” she asked. I thought about it, looked back and forth at the walls and the entryway. I looked back to her and could see Stark was staring at me now waiting for an answer. “We should move,” I said. She scoffed for a moment before realizing I was being serious. “What? When?” she asked. “Now?” I replied. “Why wait? We are already here. This place is more defensible, it has solid walls, we can close the entrance, and I can rest easy knowing that the hyenabear can’t sneak up on me in my sleep,” I said. “Hyenabear?” she asked sarcastically before realizing what I meant. “Damn, that's a good one,” “Yeah, wish you woulda’ thought that one up first, don’t you?” I chuckled at my lonely joke. “Just upack what you have, I will go back and grab the other stuff I can, I will be quicker and I have the map,” I said waving my arm left and right with the PDA on it. I was lucky that we had only been walking a few hours, I was able to half that time alone. I made Fenrir stay at the cave and I went back to camp. I packed my main pack, my assault pack and a jump bag with the contents of my drop pod that I could take. It was heavy but I knew that I was capable of carrying it. I stacked the med box and the cache I had and I began my trek back to our little cave. It was an uneventful trip to and from the pod, aside from hacking up more black gunk. I had decided to not scuttle the pod with a grenade to the interior. I decided it could serve as a small last bastion now that I knew even something as big as a bear can’t get into those. I locked the door with my key pad and shut down any power to save the battery. I made my way back to the cave after packing our stuff up. When I came back in I found Fenrir seated outside the cave on a large rock, with Stark standing at the entrance. I set the stuff down on a dry spot of stone and I looked at the two in confusion. Stark was leaning on another rock with her head tilted back. She looked at me and sighed. “I don't want to sound like a girl, but I saw something in there and I don’t want to go back in until its dead,” she said simply. “Really? I left you with a fuckin’ rifle and I have to be to the one to go smash the spider?” I growled in annoyance. She chuckled sarcastically as I stormed into the cave in frustration. My anger immediately dissipated when before me I saw the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. It was a dark gray and looked like it was a rock at first. It was the size of a softball, with twelve large thick legs, six at each side. It resembled a scorpion in body type, with a small short tail but it didn’t wrap over the top like a typical scorpion. The front also lacked the large pincers, instead bearing two large needle looking arms. It sat still and I seriously debated how to kill this thing. I shined my light on it and the large creature skittered backwards. I realized that the light had scared it. I thought about stepping on it, but the small fear of it brushing off a boot stomp only to stab me or retaliate kept me from doing that. I made a small but important decision, I would shoot it. I withdrew my sidearm and stepped back to the mouth of the cave. Putting aside all safety knowing that shooting a firearm at a rock face was probably on the top ten stupidest things to do with a gun, the risk was worth the reward to destroy this monster. I took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. The round shot true and I observed the small critter jerk suddenly as the bullet passed through it. The oversized bug took a few steps and then laid in place twitching. The pop made my ears ring and I could hear Fenrir barking at me from outside. I stepped in further and knelt down looking at the bug. The bullet had made a clean neat little hole with minor fracturing around the entry point, but the bottom of the bug had burst apart and there was catastrophic damage to the internal organs. I had seen that I had made a good choice as I could tell now, the carapace on this bug was thick enough it probably would have survived the initial boot stomp. I holstered my weapon and heard Stark enter the Cave now. “Seriously?” she said sounding irritated. “I got scared,” I said looking back at her. I could see a smirk crack at the corner of her mouth and she struggled to tell if I was joking or not. I kept a serious blank stare before turning back to the bug and debating how to remove the carcass. I decided I would just build a fire and burn it. In a matter of thirty minutes I had a neat little semi circle of large stones against the flattest part of the wall with the highest portion of ceiling to vent to smoke. I had a pile of wood that was beginning to really catch flame and next to this was a semi large pile of wood that was going to dry as the fire burned. I then searched every nook and cranny I could with my light to root out anymore of those massive bugs, but I found none. I scooped the body into the fire as it burned away and I heard the fatty tissue inside the chitinous mass sizzle and crackle. It smelled like burning fat, and it was not a pleasant smell, but nothing strong enough to clear out the cave by any means. I watched as the shell began to blacken but as the fire burned, it never truly was destroyed. As I sat with my back against my pack I took in this cave. Smoke rolled across the ceiling and out of the entrance, barely visible as the fire burned hotter. I could see that the cave entrance did have a small pool of water formed that we stepped through to get in. It was ankle deep and I debated a way to redirect that runoff into a container. As my mind wandered I withdrew a small pouch of electrolyte powder, flavored orange, and I dumped it into a cup of steaming water, I used a foldable knife in my pocket to stir the mixture and set it on a flatter rock by the fire to keep it warm. *Mmmm orange,* I told myself sarcastically. I sat back again and began to let my head wander once more. I had stashed the two crates near the second chamber and I began to debate my next move. I would need to start recovering equipment to find some comms gear to rig up and send out a message. I could get a message far, and it would hit life boat computers, drop pods, and PDA’s. I could get people to come here and although we may struggle a bit for food or water, and maybe space, we would be safe in numbers. I placed my head in my hands and leaned forwards feeling tired from all of this stress. I coughed again and didn’t have to work hard at getting the mucus out of my throat, I spat it off into the flames. I sighed and rest my head back into my hands. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see that Stark had noticed my mild distress. She gave a gentle squeeze and let go with a smirk. “Glad I’m here Corporal,” she said. I nodded and gave a half hearted smile back. “Im happy you found me,” I replied. There was a brief silence before I looked back at the fire. “Ivan, by the way,” I said to her softly. I watched the dancing flames, taking a small log the size of my wrist and tossing it on the fire. A shower of sparks soared towards the ceiling and quickly died as they hit the stone. “Natasha” she replied. I heard Fenrir sigh heavily and looked over to see him staring at me from the doorway, lying on his stomach, head resting between his front paws. I held out a hand and he wagged his tail briefly before approaching me. I pet him on his head and scratched his ears. “Where did he come from?” she asked. “I don’t know, he found me. Like you,” I said to her. “He was in the woods when I got here. It took a couple days, but he warmed up to me, and I him,” I said as I scratched him under the chin. I stopped and Fenrir laid next to me sighing again. “That’s fast for a wild animal,” she said. I nodded absentmindedly. She was right, domestication not being an overnight thing. I took note of it but pressed the thought to the back of my mind. As I thought the day was winding down and we should be getting settled for the evening I heard the sound of a large animal outside. A breathy growl followed by the sputtering I would recognize from a horse. Natasha and I looked at each other. I snatched up the shotgun and flicked the safety off. She had drawn the rifle from the leaning position against the wall. Fenrir stood and went to the doorway standing just out of the last of the daylight cast inside. I edged to the door as the growl came again. I feared another visit from Hyneabear and friends, but as I came around the corner I could start to see that this was not that. I could see from around the wall, a large four legged animal. It was clearly a beast of burden, on it, was a very plain looking dark brown contraption that was strapped around it. *Is that a saddle?* I asked myself as I stared at it. There was no rider that I could see and I began to feel the gears turn in overtime as I tried to process this info. I could see that there were very vibrant blue marks on the animal’s hindquarters. I observed how the animal had a similar build to an earth horse. It’s snout was elongated but it’s eyes were more forward and it’s mouth was flatter and wider. The muscles were larger, and it’s whole frame was wider, almost build like a gigantic pitbull dog without the bark, teeth and claws. “What is it?” Natasha asked. I looked back at her dumbfounded. “Uh…” I responded. “Well?” she asked again. “A horse,” I said without a better word for the animal outside.


Today the world was blanketed in snow. I had nothing to do and nowhere to go. But when those plow trucks pushed the snow out of my parking spot, I decided to make a quick run to Shop n Stop. There was a lot of things up on the shelves. Breads and fruits and Keebler elves. I was so hungry, my stomach let out a big bellow, when one of the workers let out a lackluster "hello". My heart sank deeply into my mottled chest. This cashier did not look very happy to see me. I was 42, with a short blond bob haircut and wearing a pair of Lululemons I borrowed from my daughter. My booty was perfectly sculpted, and my teeth perfectly structured because my husband is a dentist. Anyone would be happy to see me. I am a housewife, one of the most prestigious of all careers. While this little asshole put groceries in bags. It is time. I will Karen the little asshole, and he will regret not celebrating my arrival by offering me his internal organs as a bakery sample. "Where's your manager?" I demanded. "Huh?" said the Little Asshole. "Get your manager, the floors are not shiny enough. I cannot shop here if the floor isn't shiny." "Uh okay." he said. His neck was small and slender, and I wanted to wrap my hidden tentacles around it and play it like a flute. It was my God given right as a Karen. "Yes, may I help you?" said the manager. She was small, like an egg from a platypus ass. Her hair was red, and according to cliché, this meant that she had an attitude as fiery as her locks. "Your employee threw my baby down the cereal aisle and I cannot find it. I need my baby because I get more money if I file my taxes with a dependent. I cannot buy groceries if my baby is stuck in a cereal box." "Aaron? Why did you do that? We cannot have babies in our cereal boxes because our profit margin will suck and Corporate will make us sell our organs to maintain our minimum wage jobs!" The manager said. I liked her. She agreed with me. "You can't be serious?" the Little Asshole said. So all three of us set out to find my baby in the cereal aisle, even though there was no baby. My thighs sounded like a round of applause down the desolate aisles, and it was then I knew that God, Jesus, Obama, Trump and Biden were with me. I used to see them all of the time when I breastfed my oldest daughter Rebecca, and they gave me advice like "Whoever smelt it dealt it" and "Call JG Wentworth, 877 cash now!" My husband was never brave enough to give me advice, because happy wife, happy life is a fundamental physical property of the universe. But those tall men did. "This is the cereal aisle. I have Instagram on my Iphone, so everyone's nipples will harden when I find this missing child of yours." said the red head. Machiavellian, me likes. The Little Asshole kept sighing and then I wondered who was actually working the store because these two morons were the only ones I saw in here. "Clench your buttocks, lest the dust from the cereal boxes irritate your digestive track. Then, our floors will be REALLY dirty, tee-hee" And so, the three of us walked down the cereal eye ull when suddenly, all of the harsh overhead lights turned off and a voice said "....you are the chosen ones....." To be continued....


Kaia had no idea where or how far away from home she was. At seven years old she wasn’t much for directions or telling time. She only knew that the sun was going down and if she didn’t find her way out of these trees she'd miss dinner and tonight it was lasagna, special for Aunt Janice's birthday. Her favourite. The whole family was gathered for the celebration, including grandma and her world-famous baked goodies. Her cousins were over, too. Sara and Ivan. Jerks. Kaia wished she could hang out with the adults. They were gathered in the kitchen, which was enourmous. Kaia figured her parents were rich, probably gazillionaires. They always threw these big fancy parties where all the food was bite sized and everyone drank out of long fancy glasses. That’s how it started. Everyone was celebrating, her mom fussing in the kitchen, the children being too loud. "Why don’t you kids go outside and play until dinner,” her Dad suggested. Off they went. With a backyard that consisted mainly of a small garden plot and trees, the obvious place to play was in the trees. Kaia and her cousins would do things like build forts with tree branches and climb the enormous trees, but their go-to was hide and seek. Sara hid first, but her efforts were futile. She was not a tiny girl and she wore a pink, fluffy sweatshirt. It may as well have been a beacon for the seeker. Sara was nabbed in a minute's time. Ivan was a little more creative. That bummed Kaia out, she didn't feel like searching for him anyway,. Kaia didn’t really enjoy playing with her cousins that much because they were bullies. Picked on her her for being skinny, mocked her long curly red hair that sometimes got knotted up and fluffy-fuzzy. “Your hair looks like a toilet brush,” Sara would say. Ivan would laugh hysterically over the unfunny joke every time. Kaia wanted to outsmart them on her turn to hide. She ran quickly through the brush. She could feel the burdocks grabbing at her purple sweater as she ran, but she didn’t care. “The longer it takes for them to find me the more peace I get,” she thought. She found a tree, hustled up as high as she could, and scrunched herself into a little ball. Trying to make herself invisible. She heard her cousins yelling in the distance. In the distance. How far had she run She waited and waited for her cousins to come find her but their cries just got more distant and further away. A feeling of panic washed over Kaia; She descended the tree, not that graciously though, scraping her leg and leaving an open bleeding gash on her right calf. She cried out. Sitting on the ground at the foot of that tree Kaia cried until snot came out of her nose, which she angrily wiped on her purple sweater. “Ok, enough crying,” she told herself. “I gotta get home or I’m going to be stuck out here in the woods all alone all night.” The very thought prompted more tears. She gathered herself and decided to find home. She had been running, dodging trees and bushes, for what felt like an hour. She finally accepted the fact that she was lost and alone. She collapsed on the ground, exhausted.</p> When Kaia opened her eyes, the sky had grown much darker. The woods were beginning to make their night-time noises. The peepers were out, a few frog noises, an owl. The noise of rustling brushes. That scared Kaia enough to dart out of the thicket. “I didn’t know this was here,” she said out loud as she came upon a pond. She bent over and cupped her hands to take a drink of water. The moonlight lit an eerie glow over the pond. Kaia could see her reflection and the forest behind her as though she was looking into a mirror. She saw a tattered- looking girl with dirty clothes. Her mom would be pretty mad that she put a hole in her pants from that tree. The blood was clotted and dried in a perfect circle of red on her kitty-cat leggings. She could see her stupid face, freckles and that mess of curly hair, matted with sweat and sticking up everywhere. Out of frustration she smacked the water with her hand. Her reflection changed. It was still her but her reflection was smiling and Kaia wasn’t smiling. Quite the opposite. Just then, the reflection winked at her. *************************************** She had hoped that her terrified ear-splitting wails would draw her family near. To come save her. No one came. She was still alone, the image from the pond seared into her memory. An eerie, pensive calm washed over her. "What if the face in the pond can talk?" she thought. "What if it can help me find my way home?" She approached the shining pond slowly, cautiously. She closed in on it, until she could see her reflection again. “Who are you?” she asked. ‘"Why, I’m you silly! Can’t you tell?!”, The Reflection responded with a giggle. “Reflections don’t talk,” Kaia retorted. A shiny object in Kaia in The Reflection’s hand grabbed her attention. Something...gold? The thing twirled around and around The Reflection’s finger. “You can have this locket, it will help you get home," The Reflection began softly . "It has a compass inside and it will point where you need to go.” The locket. Still twirling around that one finger. It caught the moonlight, the reflection dancing across the pond's surface. Hypnotizing. Kaia motioned for the locket, but it was just out of her reach. The Reflection swam out a little further. Kaia chased the treasure into the water. This was her locket. This was her compass. Her ticket home. Kaia was shoulder deep. “Follow me Kaia, reach for my pendant,” The Reflection encouraged in a whisper. “Stay with me.” Kaia found herself kicking, struggling to stay afloat. She was not a strong swimmer. She wouldn’t even put her face under water, causing her to lose out on her swim badge in Brownies. Dipping under. Swallowing acrid, metal-tasting water, the grit of sand in her teeth. More kicks. In one swift motion she breached the surface, gasped for air, and dipped under. Kaia was gone. Only a few bubbles remained floating at the surface. ******************************* Bill Powell walked alongside Sheriff Ruiz. “Used to be an old mill and pond around these parts back in the 1960s,” Powell noted. The entire community was two days into an intense search for the missing seven year old. If you needed a town history lesson, Powell was your man. “Yessir, back in, I wanna say '67, '68, a young girl named Eloise Harris went missing," he continued. "The whole town went looking for that little girl. Sweet little girl, red curly hair, freckles," he described. "Decade later, all they ended up finding were bones," Powell said. He turned to face the Sheriff. "That mill shut down after some accusations that one of the workers had done something to that little girl, and that pond all but dried up over the years," Powell continued, explaining how Eloise Harris was found. "That’s when they found her....well what was left. Just a skeleton clutching a locket. I think it had a compass in it if memory serves me.” “I seem to remember coming across that case in my files when I took over here in 99’, they never actually pinned anyone for that did they?” Ruiz asked. “Nope. But these woods are full of secrets, there are probably trees here older than man itself. Some say she accidentally drowned, some say she was dumped here, some say the ground just seemed to open up and swallow her whole, spittin’ out her bones, but… no way of proving nothin’,” Bill said in a grunt. His hips were killing him. The search party found their way to the clearing on an unseasonably warm Saturday afternoon. Right where the old mill and pond used to be, right where Powell said it would be. Sheriff Ruiz saw something in the distance. He walked toward this patch of colour, kicking up dust and sediment as he strode across the dried out pond. A girl’s sweater. Purple. Kaia’s mother identified the sweater as hers. There were no remains to be found. Tucked up into the sleeve was a gold locket. Ruiz popped the locket open, revealing a compass with a shattered screen. On the back, the initials E.H. were neatly inscribed.