Part I

The woods were ancient. The tall trees dominated the land, giving refuge to the many critters and creatures above and below. Pillars of bright light pierced through the vibrant green canopy. The lush undergrowth gave shelter to the many animals stirring as spring began her slow thaw of the land. The snow that crept down from the mountains, now retreated up the rocky hillsides once more.

Cy walked leisurely over the gnarled roots which claimed most of the obscured path winding through the majestic trees. Cy’s red robe could be seen passing between the massive trunks as she walked. Along the trunks bright red toadstools sprouted out of the shelf fungi to give homes to the smaller fairies roaming these parts. Cy’s eyes passed over the red, spotted mushrooms seeking out any pixies awakening from their winter slumber. As her gaze travelled along the trunks, she spotted a great stag further in the distance. His slow graze through the fresh greens had her pausing to admire his nobility of the forest before she quietly continued her hike towards the nearby town. Cy reached the top of a small rise in the path and stopped to admire the vast mountains along the horizon. Their mighty expanse protected this land from the harsher beasts and weather on the other side. As she gazed out, Cy heard a familiar faint whirring and quickly turned, searching for the source. The sound brought her back to her childhood of searching for the will-o-wisps, but they evaded her sight this time. She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her pointed ear while scouring the area, knowing it was still too bright to see them.  “Wow, what pretty ears you have!” A tiny voice said below. “But what’s a fae doing out here, Mama?” Cy looked down and saw three hares munching on a patch of green grass while bathing in a small pool of sunlight. The larger one looked up to Cy as she answered, “I am not sure why any creature would travel these woods alone .” Cy swore she saw the mother hare glare at her. “Which is why we…?” The mother trailed off and her two offspring chimed together. “Travel in groups!” Cy’s lips curved slightly as she went on her way. Prey, she thought to herself, always controlled by fear. Part II

Cy bent down to the freshly melted water of the lake and splashed the frigid water on her face then refilled her canteen. After snacking on an apple and some cheese from her pack, she sat down next to the shore for a rest. She gazed out at the beauty before her. The reflections in the water made the forest and mountains seem surreal. Her gaze drifted over the nearby shore but stopped when she saw the giant wolf. The beast’s white and brown fur shone in the spring sun as she lapped up some fresh water. Cy stood quickly and called out. “Blaidd!” The wolf spirit of the forest looked up slowly as Cy waved to her. The giant wolf merely tipped her head in acknowledgement then slowly turned and left the lakeside.

Cy packed up her few belongings and began her short trek back to the trail. The trees in this area were more dispersed and reached higher, letting more sunlight through to the base which allowed the smaller, vibrant bushes to grow. A flurry of motion went off to her right, followed by another to her left. Someone was herding her.

“I know you’re out there!” Cy shouted as she reached for her two small blades strapped to her low back under her pack.  “Those won’t do you much good against us, princess.” Cy looked to her right and saw a dark coloured wolf staring down at her. More wolves of mixed colouring slowly revealed themselves. She was surrounded.  “Took long enough at the lake. We were getting worried you wouldn’t show in time for lunch.” The wolves chortled, the only laugh a wolf could do. “Leave me in peace and I won’t hurt you,” Cy doubted she could fight them all off, but she had to prove her village wrong. The wolves all chortled again at her false bravery. “With that cloak, you’re lucky we were the ones to find you. There are far worse predators in these woods.” He snarled and began stalking towards her.

“Spoken like a true fox,” Cy shot back. The wolves all growled in unison. “Foolish, weak fae girl. Out alone wearing that,” the wolf snarled. “You are ringing the lunch bell for any creature in your vicinity.”

His words resonated with her, like a bell. Cy took her hands off her blades and cupped them around her mouth as she filled her lungs with air. “Blaidd!” Cy screamed as loud as she could, repeated the yell three more times before facing the head wolf. “I’m not so sure your boss will appreciate your attitude towards the new clan leader.” Cy gave him a smirk as the other wolves began scampering off, ears and tails lowered. The wolf stood his ground a few more seconds before his ear twitched, hearing the crashing in the distance. “This isn’t over, girl,” he growled. “A female leader will not last.” He turned and ran. His departure was right on time as Blaidd came crashing through the nearby brush and growled at Cy and the empty area. “Cyfrwys!” Blaidd growled. “You cannot use me to get out of trouble.” “It was your wolves causing trouble! They know the laws.” Cy began her hike up to the path. “As do you, young one. You must be on the path. Use your head, girl.” Blaidd took a deep breath and walked beside Cy who put out her hand and rested it on the giant’s shoulder. The soft fur brought back memories of a much smaller Cy falling asleep on Blaidd’s back on her family’s trips between the towns.

“How has the spring been this year?” Cy attempted at small talk. Blaidd’s side expanded under Cy’s hand as she gave a big sigh through her nose.

“Spring has it’s usual beauties,” they both paused to watch an intricate blue butterfly float pass them. “But there are shortcomings. We are losing more land to the nearby farmers and more deer to the hunters. This will be another tough season.” She eyed sidelong at Cy. “What brings you out to the forest so late. And alone?” “I’m visiting Mhamo, I have her medicine that mom makes. Mom didn’t feel up to the trip with… everything.” She gripped the fur under her hand as pain laced through her chest. “I am sorry for your loss little one,” Blaidd said quietly. “He was a great warrior and leader.” Blaidd let the silence carry on, both walking in comfort until reaching the path. “You must be smarter from now on. It is late for this long of a journey, especially on your own. I won’t be able to save you from everything. Keep your wits about you, and keep those blades handy.” Cy smiled as Blaidd gave a wolfish wink before trotting off into the bushes. Cy took a deep, steadying breath and continued on, careful to stay on the path. Part III

With the sun sinking below the horizon, shadows lengthened, attempting to blanket the world. The symphony of birds and insects had died out, the forest encased in an eerie silence. Cy’s heart sank as she gazed at the path ahead. What was once an easy trail had become a dark, marshy hollow with close-set trees blocking out any remaining light. The ground was covered with white mold from the melting of the snow and moisture in the spring. The white netting resembled spider’s silk too much for Cy’s taste, but she had come so far, so she pressed on. She felt for her two blades at her lower back and kept a steady pace, eyes and ears alert.

The path dipped down lower into a small gorge, rock walls rising up to her shoulders, then slightly over her head as she continued a slow descent. The walls on either side were slick with mud, the temperature dropping significantly. She could almost feel the cold radiating off the land around her, as if attempting to suck any heat from the living.

Cy froze, eyes scanning the dark terrain, her pointed ears listening for whatever was pricking her senses as chills crept up her spine. She couldn’t hear or see anything but goosebumps rose along her arms as the stench of rot grew. Her heart rate began to rise and panic began to tighten a vice around her lungs. She felt him then. A cold presence drifted around her side, ice permeating through her clothes. Cy’s bowels turned liquid as her gaze met the dead spirit’s glowing eyes.

His essence was like a cloud, not fully there when she focused on him, but solidified when she looked away. His face was male, though his flesh was rough, like rotten tree bark. A wispy, dark cloak covered what was left of him as he floated in front of her. There was nothing friendly in the wraith’s sharp eyes.

“What is a pretty thing like you roaming around my home?” The wraith rasped as he circled around Cy. She knew the old false tales that wraiths only gain power over you if you gave them notice. But she also knew the truth behind the warning- do not give them any power over you.

“I am minding my own business. As you should be.” Cy stood tall and tried not to let her shoulders shake as the temperature continued to drop. Her hands itched for her blades, but she knew they were useless. She was useless against him. Her heart beat faster and harder in her chest, fear building. She should not have come. “What pretty eyes you have.” His face came over her right shoulder as his tattered cloak draped and flowed in the non-existent breeze. ”So pretty... to be alone.” His voice was a deep, soothing sound. “Alone. In the forest.” He floated closer, his mouth near her neck, blowing freezing, dead air onto her as he spoke. “ My forest.” His voice changed from a smooth melody to an angry rasp then back again. “Wearing such a beacon as this.” He reached for her red cape, she stopped breathing when the material moved under his thin, skeleton of a hand. Do not give him power over you. “Such an... inviting colour. Not one I get to see often.” His cold voice was calm, patient as his bright eyes met hers. Cy tried not to move, not to show signs of her fear as his cold essence soaked into her soul.

Cy broke the stare by closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, ignoring the growing stench of rot, and tried to clear her thoughts. Screaming wouldn’t help, neither would fighting. This wraith must have died this past winter, taking over this part of the forest as his haunt. He probably died from the elements... “You must be cold,” Cy said as calmly as she could, opening her eyes but staring straight ahead as he floated around the small area. “You must be in need of a new cloak.” She spoke with no emotion. The wraith stopped his circling and drifted in front of her, waiting. “I have a spare.” Cy slowly took off her pack without moving her gaze. She extended the bag to the dead fae in front of her, who was fading slightly. “There is a cloak in here,” she lied. The wraith paused, as if waiting for a trap to spring, then shot forward for the gift. But Cy was faster. She threw the pack into the woods away from the path. The wraith gave out a shrill shriek that resonated through the ground and woods as it flew after the cloak. Cy sprinted out of the lair, refusing the urge to look back. She kept her eyes on the wet ground, jumping over rocks and logs until she was back out into the warmer wooded path where she turned and emptied her stomach into the nearby bush. Part IV

Disappointment had slowly replaced her fear as she neared the town without her Mhamo’s medicine. The entire trip’s purpose was lost to foul luck and unacceptable naivety. She chided herself knowing that her mother and clan would be disappointed at her failure.

She left the forest trail and walked along a pebble path that ran alongside the town’s wall. She turned north, heading towards the gated entrance. The sun had completely set, giving the torches along the wall the only source of light. As Cy approached the last turn before the gate she saw a small group of inebriated males who were drinking and smoking on the path. Cy tried to ignore their gazes as she walked by, holding her head up high and not giving them the satisfaction of unnerving her.

She passed in front of the small group, eyes ahead, until a sharp smack hit her backside. “What a nice ass you have there, darlin’?” Cy froze in shock. “Too bad it’s covered by that red atrocity.” Cy turned in anger. “Whoa ho!” The drunk male’s gaze went to her chest. “And the front’s not too bad either!” Icy rage coursed through her veins as all four males took in her figure and hooted. She shook with rage and couldn’t muster a response. “Dressed like that, you’re asking for a spankin’! You should be grateful me and my friends are here to protect you. There are some creeps in this town. Some women oft’ get hurt bein’ by themselves.” All four men nodded with leering smiles on their faces. “Touch me and I’ll report you to the town guard,” Cy said as sternly as she could. “Baha! What’s them idiots gonna believe? A strange female or four males who ‘appen to be on good terms with the council?” The males stalked around her.

“You mean the council of older fae males?” The main guy nodded, a sinister grin plastered to his face. “You mean the council of fae males who my father had frequently-” before she could finish, one of the males darted forward and restrained her arms behind her back.

“Yer daddy ain’t here to save you, though. Is he?” The man reeked of alcohol as he spoke mere inches from her face. Cy felt fear creep yet again into her heart. They were right, no one would believe her over them. She was alone. Cy thought about her father then, about everything he taught her. His blades strapped to her back. The male holding her pressed himself firmly against her back, pressed his mouth into her neck and inhaled deeply. Cy smirked and took her opportunity. She threw herself backwards forcing the male to stumble back giving her the space to slam the heel of her boot on to his foot. He yelled out in pain and released her while she screamed hoping the guards at the gate would hear. Before the males could grab her again, she reached behind her and finally unsheathed the legendary blades bestowed upon her by her warrior father. Who had taught her well. “I am female, but I am not weak,” Cyfrwys said as she lunged.

Welsh translations: Cyfrwys = Cunning Mhamo = Grandmother Blaidd = Wolf


Amidst a bustling crowd of commuters on their way to work, Yuki Nakajima catches a glimpse of her own reflection in Yotsuya Station's large glass doors. Wearing a tailored black blazer she aims to exude an air of professionalism with a hint of style. Her hair, meticulously arranged in a low bun, is complemented by whimsical Jiji earrings - black lacquer cats, each suspended within a silver birdcage, swaying in unison like twin metronomes marking the beats of her day. Yuki boards the Metro Marunouchi Line, a shining example of Tokyo's exemplary public transportation system. As she finds a seat for the brief journey to Shinjuku Station, her mind reflects on her recent luck. Just three months ago she was a college student, and now she gets to work on the 43rd floor of the Shinjuku Sumitomo Building every day! As the train speeds through the tunnels, Yuki takes a moment to mentally prepare for the day ahead. She pulls out her phone and focuses on getting a head start on her work schedule, reviews the comments made to her latest company post, and sends a few messages. When she steps out of the subway and into the Shinjuku Sumitomo Building the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the grand lobby, reminding Yuki of the caffeine already coursing through her veins and contributing to her jittery nerves. The marble floors gleam under the natural light pouring in from the atrium above, casting a warm glow on the bustling employees making their way to their respective offices. As she weaves through the hectic lobby towards the office elevator, she notices the doors are about to close. She picks up her pace, hoping to catch the ride. To her relief, a young man inside notices her and holds the doors open.

Yuki steps inside, only to find the elevator completely vacant, save for that young man. The unusual emptiness at this hour makes her feel a bit uneasy. Her okaa-san's voice echoes in mind, warning about the impropriety of being alone with a man. She looks up at him, and they make eye contact. She blushes, offers a nervous grin, and shakes her head, as if to say she's changed her mind. She quickly hops back out, her nerves getting the better of her. In her haste, the cellphone slips from her hand. Yuki stares down at it, mortified, as it clatters to the floor.                                                                   *** Then the very air seems to thicken without warning, the molecules themselves reluctant to part ways. The cellphone, in the midst of its upward trajectory, slows to a crawl, its motion almost imperceptible against the backdrop of the viscous atmosphere. As the phone inches ever closer to its destination, the world around it falls eerily silent. The bustling employees, the distant cars, the very heartbeat of the city – all are swallowed by a profound stillness. As if the universe itself has hit the pause button. The once-teeming lobby of the Shinjuku Sumitomo Building is now a tableau of suspended animation. Suits in mid-stride, voices mid-sentence, the world holds its breath. Even the scent of coffee dissipates. A mile away, the Metro Marunouchi Line's cars, full of motionless passengers, continue their journey along the tracks, their momentum frozen in time. Of course Yuki Nakajima is not conscious of any of this surrounding stillness. Instead, she stands frozen, her mouth held agape, a statue staring down at her phone as it rests suspended above the floor. Nearby, the elevator doors remain open. Waiting.                                                                   *** After an immeasurable amount of time that can only be described as cosmically peculiar, a figure materializes amongst the frozen populace of the Shinjuku Sumitomo Building lobby. It's as if he emerges from the very fabric of reality itself, a digital entity materializing in a world of analog beings. The figure stands of average height and build, his age an enigma that only the most advanced of facial recognition algorithms could decipher. The skin is smooth, unblemished, and as pale as the moon on a clear night. He's clad in a tailored white uniform made of a material that seems to defy the laws of physics, its synthetic fibers shimmering with a faint, otherworldly glow. On his chest, a name badge proudly proclaims his identity: "ÅNG3L 24", or "Two Four" as he's most commonly called. Holographic control panels hover above each of his hands, appearing and disappearing with the ebb and flow of his attention. The right, larger panel is adorned with a myriad of colored graphs that flicker and dance in a ballet of data. The left hand hosts a smaller panel, waiting for its turn to be of service. Circling above his head, a barely visible hoop/ring floats, its ethereal blue-white light occasionally pulsing in sync with his motions. Two Four has paused the simulation to complete his rounds, which includes world-altering visits to a Chinese biotech scientist, a remote technical support specialist in India, an actor on his Hollywood film set, a Manhattan housewife/entrepreneur, and a two-star general at the US Pentagon. Now, he's wrapping up his final task with Japanese marketing assistant Yuki Nakajima. As his gaze alights upon his target, Two Four moves with steps as light and ethereal as a dream, navigating the very fabric of reality itself. He lifts the right hand panel for a better view, the graphs flashing by in a dizzying display of data. With a deft touch, he manipulates the controls, making adjustments to the intricate calculations. The graphs shift and colors change, reflecting a finely detailed image of a neural network akin to a tree, its branches and limbs growing and wilting as various scenarios are explored. The changes echo through the complex web of Yuki's neural pathways, a dance of data and decision-making in the digital ether. Finally, an automated voice, seemingly emanating from the ring above the bald head of Two Four, announces, "Alternate Pathway Clear. One million eight hundred thousand electron levels disrupted. Four hundred thirty two thousand neurotransmitters transposed. Eighty four thousand alternate dendrites and fifteen thousand axons reconstructed." Two Four then lifts the smaller panel, presses a few controls, and vanishes as abruptly as he had appeared.                                                                   *** In the heart of the vast, cavernous expanse of the "ÅNG3L Simulation Industries" office warehouse, Two Four, known by his full designation 39,427,167,924, reclines in his chair with his Neural Ring now suspended securely out of the way. He is surrounded by a symphony of blinking lights and the soft hum of machinery. His terminal, one among thousands, is the sole governor of that vast simulation that contains Yuki, the Shinjuku Sumitomo Building, the Earth, and all of its surrounding stars and galaxies. A universe in a box, a cosmos on a circuit board, all of one creation within the confines of a single desk. The monitors before him dance with a myriad of data, a kaleidoscope of information that only a trained ÅNG3L Tech could decipher. At the center of it all, his simulation’s Cosmic Pause Lever stands, a simple switch encased in a clear poly box, a relic of a simpler time when such controls were not yet automated. A fingerprint panel acts as a final safeguard against any unintended manipulations. To his right, Three Eight, designation 35,687,327,738, sits at her own terminal, her simulation humming along smoothly, the monitors awash with activity. At another terminal to his left, Two Nine, designation 32,824,174,729, is immersed in his own tasks. With a sigh, Two Four reaches forward and places his thumb on the fingerprint panel. The box pops open, exposing the Cosmic Pause Lever, a switch that can freeze the very fabric of reality within his simulation. He is about to flip it back to "On" when Three Eight's voice cuts through the hum of the machinery. "Wait, what are you doing?" Three Eight calls out, pointing to one of Two Four's screens. "Your electron levels are out of balance. That's very sloppy, no wonder your simulation is always a mess!" Two Four drops his arm and turns to face Three Eight. "Look, my Sim is... simple... literally. They are not even at 12% mechanical intelligence yet! There is no way they're going to detect manipulation at this stage. Even the humans won’t find out.” "Well, you should at least optimize your radionuclide spread," Three Eight retorts. "Surely, even your sim is far enough along for homo sapiens to be monitoring that basic data?" "Yeah, fine. I'll go back in." Two Four begins to manipulate some switches and, with a practiced motion, he carefully places the clear cover back over the Cosmic Pause Lever as a precautionary measure. One of the screens starts to calculate, flipping through various scenarios, before finally settling on an image of an orange tabby cat leisurely reclining on a sofa. He turns towards Three Eight and asks, "Is that good enough for you?" while pointing at the central screen displaying balanced graphs and the message "Predicted Integrity = 98.3%" Three Eight nods in response and then redirects her attention back to her own simulation. Two Four looks around, temporarily sneaks a metal flask out from his desk, and takes a swig. He drops the Neural Ring back down over his head, and dives back into the intricate web of his simulation.                                                                   *** The white-uniformed avatar materializes in the most peculiar of places—in the middle of someone's living room. The silence is palpable, a testament to the simulation's paused state. With a face as smooth as the surface of a newly minted coin, Two Four surveys his surroundings. His eyes, pools of liquid intelligence, alight upon the resting form of the orange tabby cat, blissfully unaware of the cosmic shenanigans unfolding around it. With the grace of a digital ballet dancer, Two Four glides over to the feline, his right hand hovering above its head. The holographic control panel once again twinkles with colored graphs as its controls are manipulated, the automated voice from the glowing ring begins its report, "Alternate Pathway Clear. One million three hundred thousand electron levels disrupted..." "Shut up!" Two Four bellows, silencing the voice in mid-sentence. The sudden outburst seems to startle even the digital ether around him. Then a mischievous glint flickers in Two Four's eyes as he contemplates, for the first time in his career, doing something that isn’t so… calculated. He ventures into the nearby laundry room and peers through the door of the dryer, spotting a collection of clothes, frozen in time like a modern-day Pompeii. A metallic glove appears on one hand and Two Four uses it to open the dryer door, rummaging through the clothes with the curiosity of a child in a toy store. Eventually, he retrieves a single sock, pink with a red heart pattern—a true mystery of the universe is about to be unveiled. Then Two Four heads outside, where the sun hangs motionless in the sky. He finds and lifts the garbage can lid, a gateway to a realm of forgotten things. With a sense of rebellion, he buries the sock deep within, a tiny act of defiance against the orderly nature of the simulation. Finally he engages the small panel above his hand and vanishes, leaving the dryer to spin unmoving in the paused simulation. In the wake of the stillness, time itself remains hesitant, unsure of its next move. The very fabric of reality quivers, as if trying to remember how to resume its dance. The frozen tabby cat stares into the void, its eyes filled with the unasked questions of the universe. Today its mind and temperament have been irrevocably transformed, an inevitable sacrifice in the grand scheme of maintaining the universe's equilibrium. Then, somewhere in another dimension, a Cosmic Pause Lever is flipped. Like a rubber band snapping back into shape, the world lurches forward once more. The air, recently thick and unyielding, rushes to fill the void left by the long pause. The dryer suddenly springs to life, its drum spinning with a renewed vigor. A single pink sock dances within, searching for its partner with its numerous tiny hearts.                                                                   *** The phone bounces a few times before coming to rest. Yuki stares at it. An eternity seems to have passed as she grapples with a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, none of which find a voice. Suddenly, a surge of disappointment in herself and her childish reactions propels her forward. She bends down, snatching the phone from the marble floor with a tight grip. Yuki marches back into the elevator, spins around to face the button panel and presses the number 43. The elevator doors glide shut, sealing her and the young man inside as the car begins its ascent. Unsure of what to do next, she continues to stare at the button panel, sensing the young man moving slightly behind her. Suddenly, a voice nearby says, "Excuse me, miss. I think you dropped this." She turns to see an open hand displaying one of her earrings - Jiji trapped within his birdcage, iconic round cat eyes seemingly searching for an escape. Yuki reflexively reaches out to take the earring, their hands lightly touching. His skin feels warm against her cool touch. The man's sleeves are rolled up, revealing strong forearms and a sleek wristwatch. She looks up, taking in his clean-shaven face with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. Black-rimmed glasses frame his deep brown eyes, adding an air of sophistication. She realizes she's seen him before, on some of these elevator trips to the offices, no less. "Nice earrings. I think my 10-year-old cousin has a pair just like them." He says with a sarcastic tone and a slight, mischievous smirk. “I think they are from a cartoon, yes?” Yuki turns away, her face heating up from embarrassment and a touch of anger at being made fun of. "An anime. Kiki's Delivery Service.” He leans back against the far elevator wall, eyes fixed on his phone as fingers fly over the screen in search of something. "I'm Hiroki Sato. A software engineer at InnovaTech Solutions, on the 47th floor. Working here for a couple of years now." Yuki carefully reinserts her earring. "Yuki Nakajima," she introduces herself. "I've been here for only a couple of months. Marketing assistant at PacificWave Solutions." Despite her professional demeanor, she's a bit flustered by Hiroki's earlier remark about her attire and isn't quite sure how to navigate their interaction. As the elevator ascends, Hiroki continues to scroll through his phone. "Yeah, I've noticed you a few times," he says. "In the lobby, for sure. Maybe in the cafeteria too?" "Yeah, maybe," Yuki replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, Hiroki takes a few cautious steps away from the wall as the elevator approaches Yuki’s floor. "Hey, before you get out, can I show you something?" he asks. "Okay, I guess," Yuki turns to face him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. Hiroki holds up his phone, showing her an image from his Facebook page: a photo of a DVD collection featuring various Studio Ghibli films. "My Neighbor Totoro," "Spirited Away," "Ponyo," "Howl's Moving Castle," and "Kiki's Delivery Service" are among the titles displayed. "This is my collection. I like Jiji, but my favorite is Spirited Away. I have that one on a gold Blu-ray collector's edition." Hiroki says. Yuki looks up at him and smiles. "Oh?" she says. "Yeah. I have some of the figures too. Some are collectables. Got them when... I was a kid... but I still have them." They stare into each other's eyes. The doors open with a quiet ding of elevator bell chimes.

Yuki says, "This is my floor." With a hint of reluctance, she turns and steps out of the elevator. "Hey, Yuki." Hiroki calls out, causing her to pause and look back. "I really do like your earrings," he says with a smile. The doors close between them, leaving his words hanging in the air. After a moment of staring at the shut doors, Yuki turns and gently touches her right earlobe. She makes her way down the hallway towards her workday, her pace now slightly livelier. The twin Jiji metronomes seem to swing with a slightly faster tempo than they had before the elevator ride.                                                                   *** "The soul is touched by an invisible hand and guided towards its purpose." - Rumi


Finally, pen down finished my final exam in Business administration and returned home. saw a dozen suits outside my father's room, it is irksome when I see these rebarbative suits. The maid ran to me and said that my father is sick. I asked the manager to take the suit to the conference hall. I went to see father, when he saw me he started murmuring something, I got my ears near to his words "its time" Then he started fainting, the family doctor suggested us to take him to the hospital for some test. after a day at the hospital, the test results said that he is histrionic by blocks in arteries. the doctor suggested that after the operation he might be salubrious. the next day after admission the operation was scheduled. the doctor is querulous but he seems risible to me at the same time irksome. the room allotted for the VIP's is big enough for 10 members to stay there. I stayed there until his operation I know the disease he has is baleful but I had no feel because he never stayed by my side in any situation. the doctor called me to his room, I was zealous to know his upcoming words standing next to the lachrymose manager. the doctor said that the operation went well and the father will be sent to the VIP room after getting his consciousness. for the next 3 days, we stayed at the hospital and returned to our home. the suits were feckless for the past 8 days as the net worth of the BB empire reduced by 2%. I appointed three health professionals to watch my father for physical and mental care. Three days later I got my MBA result, it said that I had 90% I got the percentage to my father's ears, he suddenly canceled all the appointments for the eve and went for a meeting with the board members. I asked where he is headed to, he said “Once and for all” After his return, I asked about it, he said that the new product is to be launched in three days. The day before the event I was gifted with a costliest suit by my father and he asked me to wear it for the event. Again he came to visit me on the eve of the event and told me that I am going to take over his place. I was surprised and at the same time hopeless. the event was organized in an auditorium with 500 seats. As it is said to be a product release there will be a lot of press people so the manager asked me to walk slowly towards the stage, as that will be helpful for the press people to take photos for the cover pages of the magazines. I was standing behind the door, the manager asked me to enter when my father calls my name from the stage. My father started his talk on the stage. my anxiety went up, as there will be a throng behind the door. I concentrated on his words as time went “I hereby declare that the full authority of the BB empire will be taken by my only son Krishna Kumar” The second I heard it, the bodyguard to the left and right opened the door, I saw 10 bouncers to the left and right making a path to the stage, hundreds of flash flickers from both sides, the flash increased as I moved towards the stage and energetic applause from the auditorium. Finally with all the push and pull I stepped on a pace. I can see the final 4 steps to the stage, when I placed my next step, suddenly everything around me went black. I am falling from somewhere to somewhere, I was surrounded by black, I can't feel my weight, the coat is not waving as I can't figure out the air in the local, I am about to blackout, in the last second of my blackout I heard a husky voice saying “you might need this”, with the voice, I saw someone flying with me but he seems stable with his body, kept something in my hand, then my eyes went out. . . After some time I opened my eyes, I am still falling and I ended up in a dustbin at someplace. I got out of the dustbin and saw a throng moving towards the auditorium, the auditorium is the same one I just left a few minutes or seconds ago. But the auditorium looked different than what I saw earlier. I wore the cap the husky voice man gave me and entered the auditorium with the throng. The security did not check my ticket as the cap I wore had the name of the auditorium. It seems the workers at the auditorium wear the same cap. I sat on the last row, waiting to see what is going to happen. The poster in the corner read “Entrepreneur award ceremony”. the award ceremony started and the series of awards were given to different people. “next award is for the best generation entrepreneur for the decade” And the officials at the stage started to announce the name “ the best generation entrepreneur of the decade is owned by Krishna Kumar of BB empire” I saw a man getting on to the stage, seeing his face I am hopeless, that can't happen, the man on the stage is me, not exactly me, he is somewhat older than me. After getting the award he returned to his seat. The man sitting next to me was writing the happenings of the ceremony. The date at the corner of the page is written as “12/03/2031” I helped him “sir you have written the date wrong, it's not 31 it's 21” “No sir you are wrong, it's 31” “I think you are not getting, its 12/03/2021” “no sir, it's not 21, it's 12/02/2031, check the ceremony poster there” The poster at the corner read “award for the decade 2021-2031”. its not that they give award at the starting of the decade for the decade. That proves the one who looks like me is 10 years older than me and the same me. After the ceremony, a press conference is arranged for the award winners. I went to the press conference room, lifting a pack of water bottles wearing a suit. I sat at the corner, The man near the door shouted “the best entrepreneur of the year” the man who got the award for the best entrepreneur of the decade came first, the reporters started triggering questions, most of the questions were about his popularity and his development in his work. After his press meet. To call the next award winner the man near the door shouted “the next is the best generation entrepreneur” The older self came in, the moment he came in the reporters started getting out, I barely saw 5 to 6 reporters sitting here and there just asked one or two questions to him, the session got over in just 3 min. I asked a reporter, why Krishna Kumar is not considered that much. “oh Krishna Kumar, he just took his father’s place, that’s why he is not considered by the reporters” Thinking about that, I got out and saw reporters rushing towards the best entrepreneur and not towards the best generation entrepreneur. I have shown the sadness in different situations but this time it penetrated every cell over the body. I placed my hands on the cheek and sat on the bench, roadside. The different thoughts in my brain started getting complicated and went out of control. I saw someone standing in front of me wearing white shoes, as my head raised I noticed white pant, red belt, holding his own hands, white full hand shirt, red tie “you have used it wisely” I heard the same husky voice and he pulled off the hat from my head. Again I started falling in the dark, I missed his face. This time without falling I stood on the first step of the stage, back in 2021. The same flickering flashes and loud cheering claps. I took the next three steps, my father welcomed me by shaking hands and hugged me. My father's manager gave me a paper and asked me to read it on the mike. I went to the mike and saw the paper, it was written as “with all consciousness, I will be taking over BB empire”. I kept the paper inside the suit and started to talk. “Thanks for the compliments and applause, this empire is too big, my father struggled for 40 years to build this empire, it's not easy to take all at once, I now ask the chairman of the BB empire to sign me a check of 10,000 INR as a father. I have to learn from the start, not from the top. In 10 years from now, there will be an event organized in this auditorium, at that time I will take over the BB empire not as a son but as a fighting empire, lets name my empire now, ok, let us name it after my name, KK empire. I hope the press peoples are not disappointed, as the exclusive is changed.” . . After 10 years (14/03/2031) . . I went to a different city with the amount of 20,000 INR, got a job with a salary of 25,000 INR worked in the same company for the next three years, built a company with the loan and the savings I had, with the balance 8 years I can't build the same as my father but I got up to 60 percent of it. I organized a product release before the day of the award ceremony, my father was there and I officially took over the BB empire as the chairman of KK empire and my father was proud of me. As I can't handle both the empire on my own I gave 50% of my KK empire to charity. The next day at the same auditorium I got the award for the best entrepreneur of the decade, got the triggering questions in the press meet, and a lot of compliments from the people at the auditorium. I felt proud, which I know the one I saw from the past did not felt.


Fated Delivery And in the front door of Efferty Drasso’s house, a letter is being dropped by the postman. Addressed to someone that Efferty doesn’t even know exist, but soon, he is going to find out more than he would bargain for. “Oh man, what a day…how dare he even say those things to me?! All the things I did for the company the whole month went down the river just like that! That asshole!”. These are his thoughts as he steps on his front door. “But the bills and letters keep coming no matter the crappy day you had to endure” he scoffed. And then, he sees it. A red envelope. Being the most different of all the letters, lying in his mat by the door. “What’s this? From Reeven Tally…to Linus Tally..” Efferty matters as he looks the words on the envelope. “Ah the damn mail boy again…mistaking my house like, god, doesn’t he checks anything when he delivers?” Efferty is mattering these words as he enters the house with the red envelope and his other letters at hand. “Well, what to do. Name doesn’t ring any bell…Do I have any neighbor called like that?” he thinks to himself while he stands still and looks the red letter. “Seems like a brother-to-brother letter huh...or perhaps some relatives.” He keeps making these thoughts while he turns around the letter checking it from outside to every corner. Then suddenly, he notices something. “Huh..what’s this?” he wonders. While he was peering at the paper envelope, he notices that some of its red colour starting to dissolve, revealing a symbol that Efferty had never seen before. “Well, let’s search about it!” he shouts while he takes a picture of the circle-like fluted symbol. *** After some research on his computer, Efferty comes across three words and a symbol that looks exactly like the one on the letter: ‘The Copper Scroll’ . “The Copper Scroll? What is that thing?” he mutters with a big, disappointed face. At that moment, his phone rings. The name Tony appears on the screen-Efferty’s best friend. “Yo dude, how you been?” are the words coming from the phone’s answered call. “Bro, they fired me! Said I didn’t do my job right. Can you believe this shit?” Efferty says to Tony while rubbing his forehead. “Yeah dude, I can. Cause you were going wasted half of the days in the one month they hired you! To me, I wonder how you even lasted for a whole month!” Tony replies to him as his starts making fun of the sad-faced Efferty. “Well, whatever, it’s their loss you know! Anyway, come over, will you? We gotta finish building my paladins’s gear!” (He is talking about the game he and Tony play at their free time). “Ok bro, coming right up” says an excited Tony. *** One hour later, the doorbell has rung, both kids have started playing their favourite game, talking excited over high-volumed metal music. Tony stands up and goes to grab a beer. “By the way, you got any bucks to lend to me? Electricity bill came and it’s like 350 bucks! Crazy shit, I am not even at home!” Efferty screams to Tony while playing his game. “How you managed that again?! You will put us in jail at the end, man! Where is the shit, gotta check what they charge you for” Tony says while holding and drinking his cold beer. He spots the letters and heads towards them. The red envelope is covering most of the other letters and it picks Tony’s curiosity. “Yo, who is Reeven Tally? Who is Linus Tally?” he asked Efferty after checking the addresses. “No clue man, mailman confused the houses apparently. Leave that shit, come help me to pick the best tunic here! I need a boost on defence, but I crave for some attack also you know---“are the words that Efferty keeps muttering while pressing his keyboard keys endlessly. “Why haven’t you check it out? Let’s see what it says!” Tony announced all excited as he tries to find a knife to open the letter without damaging it. “Tony, no! Leave it as it is. It is not ours!” Efferty screams to Tony when he notices what his friend is trying to do. “Like come on, aren’t you even a little curious?” excited Tony asks as he is about to open the letter using a kitchen knife. Efferty runs towards him, grab the knife and tries to take the letter from Tony’s hands “No, leave it be! Who cares, it’s not for me” he replies angrily to Tony. “Well, but it did come on your door. You have every right to open it!” Tony announces while making it clear that he doesn’t intend to let it go. “Would you like it if strangers just poked on a personal letter you wrote to someone?” asks Efferty . “Well…no” says Tony. “But we are the strangers here, so I don’t care whose secrets I find”. The two boys start fighting over the letter and they end up ripping it a little on its right corner. “Nice going, douchebag!” Efferty screams angrily to Tony. “You destroyed it!”. “What’s the big deal either way? It’s probably gonna be one of those lovey-dovey letters brothers send to each other over wishes or just to catch up with their lives. Just open it and we’ll just say it came to us like that!” Tony says with a smirk. “You-you..! Fuck...” Efferty starts opening the letter, unfolding it slowly so that he will not damage it anymore. He then starts reading out loudly: October 2, 2022 “Linus… I FINALLY did it! I found it, brother! The Copper Scroll is almost in my grasp! At last! We talked about it for so many years! And dad, he... he wouldn’t stop talking about the treasure. And I did it! God, I would LOVE to see his face! His assumptions and research were correct all along! I finished the map, Linus! All that’s left is to go there and claim the scroll. And then the treasure is going to be ours! We are talking about so much money…millions perhaps!”. At this point, Efferty lift his face up, started shaking and looked at Tony completely frozen. “What did you just….?” asked Tony. “Let me see!” said Tony, while approached the frozen Efferty. “Dude, what’s going on? Did we just…read a letter talking about treasure?!” Tony started to scream happily and jump around all over the kitchen. “Wai-wait! Tony, this can just be…a scam. Hold on, there is more written here…” Efferty replied. He then continued reading out loud while Tony stepped by his side trying to also look at the words written:

“…But I’m gonna need your help. You must follow my instructions and go get the map. I don’t want to frighten you, but we always knew that we were not the only ones searching for it. In my despair, I need to inform you that some of them learned about the research and found me. But not to worry, I am alive and have escaped them” . At that line, both young men looked each other with a face filled in terror. Efferty gulps and continues reading: “But the map…and the research…you must not let them obtain anything! Follow my guidelines so we can get the scroll. WE DESERVE IT, LINUS! US! We waited so many years! I am leaving you with some clues because I don’t know who to trust anymore. Baias has betrayed me, and I don’t even know if this letter reaches you. Just to be sure, everything I include in this letter can only be interpreted via specific paths and methods that only us, (hopefully), know about. I am counting on you, little brother. Remember this, trust NO-ONE even if they tell you they know me or being my friends, and don’t go to the police. I can understand that you may not want to be involved, but only you can do it now, Linus. Don’t let our dream end out of fear. We deserve it. For father. With all my love, Reeven” There is a small moment of silence. Tony and Efferty stare into the space of the room and manage to breath slowly. After a while, both start to speak simultaneously: “The fuck bro?!” is the first common thing the two boys shout out loud. “Dude, did we just…” Tony tried to find which words to say to complete his sentences and Efferty, puzzled, continues the talk: “This…was written about a week ago…but... what the heck?” Efferty cannot seem to find the words that he wishes to say. Then, he adds: “Should we just…go to the police…? Or just…ignore it?” he muttered at the end. “Are you crazy?!” Tony screams both in an angry manner but also with a shadowed excitement under it. “Type this ‘Copper Scroll’ to see what this is about!” Tony suggests as they run towards the computer, instantly shutting down the game and typing the words in the search bar. Then, after few clicks, they start reading: “The oldest treasure map in history, the Copper Scroll...found among the Dead Sea Scrolls, containing detailed instructions on how to find buried treasure”. Efferty and Tony paused at that moment. Staring first at the screen and the words they had in front of them, and then staring each other. “Dude, this is…is that even real information? Can we trust this?” Efferty says and keeps staring at Tony. “Let’s go. Come on!” Tony suddenly stands up from the chair with determination. “Huh? Where to?” “Let’s go to the public library! They have got to have something for this on some book or something!” says Tony as he makes a fist out of his hand, determined to exit the house. Efferty grins. “The fuck Tony? You are gonna believe this shit?” he looks at Tony with a disappointed face for believing so easily a scrap of paper. “Aren’t you even a little curious? What if this shit is real?! What if it exists and it is INDEED a map that can lead to a treasure?!” Tony starts talking like an obsessed researcher who just found out that his theory could be valid. “Are you serious right now, Tony?” Efferty starts laughing at his gullible friend. Then, when seeing Tony serious, he continues: “Are you for real? Are you believing all of this?” Efferty tries to reason with Tony who keeps insisting on his thoughts. “Why not? So many things haven’t been discovered you know! People… archaeologists… historians…many have been searching for clues about so many things that haven’t been unravel yet! Every day, something, somewhere in the world, is being discovered! What if this Copper Scroll could also”—Tony gets rudely interrupted by his friend. “Tony, please. Get serious! Let’s just forget this shit and go back into building my paladin, ok?” Efferty turns his back on Tony, approaching his computer and starting up his game again. He looks at Tony, who gets a hold of the letter and checking the other pages. “Tony, for god’s sake!” then he stops, seeing as Tony doesn’t pay any attention to him. “Okay, whatever. Finish with your daydreaming and come play with me, alright?” he says as he starts playing his game. Tony puts the papers in his pockets, grabs his stuff and exits the house. “Tony, what the hell!” Efferty shouts and thinks if he should follow his friend or just leave him be. “Fuck!” he shouts and grabs his keys and exits his house. He spots Tony who walks rapidly and starts running in order to catch up to him. ***(Eventually, Efferty catches up to Tony) “Tony! Ok pal, look. Let’s just go to the library so you can get it out of your system. And then we go back to our game and forget this ever happen, ok?” Tony doesn’t give him any response and keeps checking some papers that the envelope contained. “So, um... what are you checking?” Efferty tries to have a conversation with his friend while they are headed towards the public library. “This was included with the letter. I wanna check what it shows. Looks like some weird language or something. And a code too, there, see?” Tony replies as he continues to check the papers without even looking at his friend. The two boys eventually reach the library and after asking for the librarian’s help, they are sitting on a table, checking the pages of an old, blue, ripped book. Then, Tony talks first. “There, see! It has the same symbol. It is the Copper Scroll’s symbol. Or something like it” he says while comparing the symbol written in the letter with the one in the book. “Unbelievable, right?! Oh man, it feels like a movie! A treasure hunt! And we will be on it!” Tony cannot control his excitement and the people around them look towards them angrily at annoyed for being noisy. “Tony, look... ok. We came here to satisfy your curiosity. But this is going to stop now, ok? There is no treasure hunt. There is no relic and no map to guide you there. Perhaps it’s a prank or somebody’s fantasy, but we don’t have to be idiots like them, ok? Let’s just drop it, come on!” Efferty starts feeling worn out for having a discussion of something that sounds like a pipe dream for kids. “Why are you so negative about it, Effer? You waste your energy and time playing a fantasy game. And now, we may came across something that could be 100% true and could make us filthy rich and you cannot give it a damn chance?!” Tony replies to him angrily. “Are you hearing yourself, Tony? That is A GAME. We know it’s not real, but it gives us fun times. Someone writes a bunch of crap on a piece of paper, and you suddenly feel like Indiana Jones? That you are going to unravel a mystery and find a lost relic?! This is more imaginary than any fantasy game we play, you know!” The tension begins to rise between the two boys. Eventually, the librarian steps in and stops them. “It’s nice that you boys are lively and enthusiastic, but here is a library! You must be dead silent. And, please, leave. We are closing in five minutes”. “Fine” both boys muttered. ***(Towards the alley and Efferty’s house) “You feel alright there Tony?” Efferty asks with a concern for his friend, thinking they haven’t exchanged any words since the dispute at the library. “I just don’t get why you are so negative. I didn’t say we abandoned our homes right now and start searching for it. I just wanna talk about the POSSIBILITY of it being true” replies a lost in deep thoughts, Tony. As the boys take the turn that leads to Efferty’s house, they suddenly hear a gunshot. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” both boys instantly freeze. “Effer…it..it sounded like coming from close to your house…right?!”. “To-Tony…that way…” Efferty manages to get a hold of himself and the two boys turn around, trying to find another way to approach the house so they will not be spotted. From some distance, as they hide behind some huge barrels, they managed to see that the door of Efferty’s house has been breached and they hear several voices coming over from inside the house. Between the sounds of things falling apart, yelling and fighting, they manage to hear these words: “WHERE THE HELL IS THE LETTER, BAIAS? YOU SAID LINUS WOULD RECEIVE IT TODAY”. Cold sweat is running down the boys’ faces. They try not to make any sound. “Lower the gun, I told you already! I followed the guy but lost him. I know he didn’t deliver it to the designated point. I don’t know who informed him, but I’m sure he didn’t deliver it to Linus directly. Someone else must have gotten the envelope. Either by accident or on purpose” said the person who seemed to be the so-called ‘Baias’. “You better be right about it because I don’t see what else you can offer me, Baias”. “Let’s search the whole neighbourhood around” ‘Baias’ replied. “If what you say it’s true, the delivery point was changed, and somebody got the letter incognito”.  “Yes” ‘Baias’ replied. “Okay men, listen up! We have some ‘cleaning’ to do. Find the receiver and make sure he ends up buried” said the voice that seemed to command everyone. That was what, Tony and Efferty, two simple young men, heard that evening. And their lives would soon change from simple to complicated.


One hand to the mirror, as if placating the glass for the intrusion, you carefully prod the bruise on your cheek. Briefly, you wonder if you can truly cover it up with a mere smattering of Foundation. Your hand pauses, gently probing the purpled skin. It is a Coat of Arms, you realise. A Crest. A Crest crafted of darkened lilac hues, blooming like an oxbow lake over your freckles. Perhaps your freckles are the reason he did this. After all, you’ve never liked them either. The mirror offers you a skeleton girl with sunken cheekbones crowned by sallow hair. Dishwater red, if you’re not mistaken. As if someone has poured raspberry jelly down the sink. Looking down, you spit blood into a tissue which rests atop the toilet seat. It isn’t so bad, you tell yourself. The bruise is your symbol. Your badge of honour. No, you realise as you hear him storming through the kitchen, screaming your name. It is evidence. It is a reminder, the click of your phone as it tells you to visit a friend, an enemy, your Mother, anyone. Anyone at all. Ducking your head, you reach for the hoodie which hangs in spectral blue on the back of the bathroom door. You slip it over your head. There is no honour in this. No medal will be given if you make it through the next ten years. You cannot dodge. You cannot move. You tiptoe over the carpet, as if treading on blown glass. Most days, you barely have the time to speak, let alone breathe. Your thoughts bunch like an over-crowded locomotive at a living museum. You smile. The Black Country Museum. The day when he took your hand and led you around each wonder, a smile on his face. A smile wide enough to match the new cut on your neck from where the plate smashed the night before. Now, it is covered with a butterfly plaster. Somehow, you can still see it. Peeling back the collar of your blouse, as if trying to wave. He’s moving downstairs. You hear him, each step like a rogue pendulum swinging into the side of your skull. Inside, your organs shiver, seem to rattle your bones. Your entire body is a sheet on the washing line, torn by the wind. Eagerly, you prod the bruise again. Pain flushes up into your forehead. A reminder. A stark, bright purple and black reminder. You think of your wardrobe, where your clothes are ripped at the seams. Where your summer dress is scrunched at the back, resting languidly on a coat hanger. It is still splattered with mud from where you fell. Where he pushed you. You can’t remove it yet, can’t put it in the wash. You can’t. But there is something you can do. At first, you balk at the prospect. You stare at the ghoul in the mirror, wishing your reflection would reach out its hand and pull you into the glass. The bruise on your cheek rears it head. You know what you must do. “Where the hell is dinner? Is the oven on? Get me a beer!” You hear him shrieking from the kitchen table. You wait. Only for a few seconds. But you wait them out. “Forget it. I’m heading out. Useless,” he’s shouting. A moment later, the door slams. You are alone. In front of you, the mirror flashes, illuminating your purpled cheeks. His hand, behind you. His skin smacking against your jaw. No, you realise. You are never alone. Half-stumbling, you fumble for the bathroom door. Emerge onto the landing, where the salted caramel carpet is almost slippery beneath your toes. You manage to make it to the wardrobe, where you yank out a suitcase. You packed it two months ago, the third time you decided you wanted to leave. It has remained packed ever since, sitting in the dark. Waiting to be used. Slowly, you lift it out of the blackness. It is surprisingly light, and it is Atlantic blue – almost anthracite. Plain, no stickers. Your sister is the one who loves coating objects in geographically themed posters. The wheels are cleaned; it has never been used before. Snagging a coat from the edge of the bed, you begin to lug the suitcase downstairs. Your heart jostles against your lungs, your ribcage, waiting for him to return with his face flushed from beer and his fists hungry for your skin. When the kitchen remains a cemetery of empty corkboard, you rush to the back door. You do not bother to close it behind you. The outdoors hits you like a feather – soft but crammed with textures. The summer breeze seems to whistle through your ears. A ring of bells, trying to blind you. You stagger away from the semi-detached, taking the back roads through the park to the train station. The suitcase drags behind you like an anchor, pulling you all the way back, back to the house. Back to him. A lump in your throat, you keep walking. Sliding your hand into you coat pocket, you yank out the address. The paper is gnarled, almost crusty from the time you threw it out into the rain. But the address remains readable. She told you to visit, but you kept making excuses. Reasons why you wanted to avoid stepping back into her life. Why else had you traded her love for something which was meant to be akin to love but became twisted and wrong? The train station is an angular rectangle constructed of red metal beams coveting glass walls. The doors are automatic, swallowing you as you drag your suitcase onto the tiles. You do your best to hide your face in your coat collar, but the ticket officers still offer you odd stares as you shuffle through to the platform. Your train is on Platform Six, right at the bottom of the staircase, next to a sandwich shop. Your stomach rumbles, but you ignore it. You don’t have time. Besides, you know if you eat now, the food won’t remain in your stomach for long. The train arrives late, so you know that this time, leaving isn’t a dream. Dragging your suitcase onto the nearest carriage winds you instantly and you flounder like a fish in a desert before rushing for a chair. The seats are hard, not plush. The cushions seem to dig into your spine. You look around, wide eyed. Expect to see him coursing through the aisle, hands crushing the foldable arm rests in his wake. Even the Conductor’s voice seems to scream for you to return home. You try to close your eyes, to sleep the journey away. After half an hour of unfit full shuffling, you remain awake, staring at the countryside as it flashes by in tufts of green. Little lambs, bouncing away, unaware of the horrors which will befall their brothers and sisters. Breathing hard, you return to the past. To your destination – the little redbrick house on the street corner, near the bookshop where you grew up, a little girl with pigtails, jumping in puddles on a drizzly April afternoon. It isn’t raining when the train stops. Instead, the sun remains pulsing like a heartbeat in the sky. Perhaps it’s yours. You always wondered where that pesky organ went. Carefully, you manage to stand for long enough to lug the suitcase out onto the platform. This station seems plastic, as if it’s made of Lego. You stumble to a bench and sit for a few minutes to watch the train leave. It slithers out of the station in snake-like serpentine. Twenty minutes later, your drag your suitcase up the steps, keeping to the left as the yellow lines dictate. Soon enough, you emerge into the spitting smog. Cars line each side of the pavement outside the station – red Ford Fiesta’s, black Skoda’s, orange Kia’s. The houses are a mixture of bungalows with manicured gardens, crowned with detached terraces, some sporting cherubs spouting fountain water. You know the address off by heart by the time you pull the suitcase across the road to the main street. You head up a set of stone steps, the case a led weight on your arm. Around a corner, you nearly stumble over the pavement. Around another corner and it’s there. A small semi-detached, the one near the bookstore. The driveway has been partially eaten by succulents. You knock on the door and step back. For a moment, you hear scuffling through the letterbox. The door is opened by a small woman who should not be your Mother. She is almost weightless, with hollowed cheekbones. She is not your Mother. A ghost of your Mother, perhaps. But her skin is peppered with bruises. “Who the hell is that at the door?” You jump, and a large man with a scruffy beard emerges from the darkened hallway. Your Mother seems to shrink when he appears. “Hello,” you manage to grind out of your throat. The man sneers, using the entirety of his upper lip, like a horse. He touches your Mother’s arm, which is bruised beneath her semi-transparent blouse. Your Mother flinches. Your eyes widen and you understand. Folie à deux, you think. A madness shared by two. After all, bruises are the Family Crest. “Sorry,” you say. “Wrong address”. You turn from the door without making eye-contact. Your Mother doesn’t speak and the man only spits at your back, muttering something under his breath. Suitcase in hand, you return to the station.


This story contains content that includes issues of mental health, suicide, and physical violence. You pull your black hoody closer tighter around your face as you turn your bike down your tree-lined street toward home. The streetlights are on and making you a stretched black shadow on the deserted block as you pass through their coned light on the bumpy pavement. The red-brick rambler at the end is yours. The house is dark, and the shades are drawn. No one will be home for another three hours or so. Your mom is staying late tonight to set up the fall displays at the store and your dad stopped coming straight home from work about two years ago not long after you had that “trouble” at school when you broke into the computer system to change Zander’s grade. You don’t ask your dad where he has been, and he doesn’t ask you where you have been and that is just the way he wants it. You don’t really talk to him at all anymore, there is nothing to say. You are his biggest disappointment from your hair to your grades, from your friends to the way you dress, and he has written you out of his life with a brick wall of silence. Mom will always try to ask you how your day was as she’s prepping dinner but the last thing you are going to tell her is about what really happens. She doesn’t know that you got caught sluffing school for the fifth time last week because you were able to delete the text on her phone when she left it on the counter after work. She is notoriously awful at checking her texts. Besides, you can no longer stomach the disappointment in her eyes. Worst yet, the disappointment isn’t in you but in herself because clearly, she went wrong somewhere and she’s cataloguing all the times she raised her voice or missed a band performance or didn’t ask you who you were spending time with after school. This time alone has been important for your plans. It is all coming together the way you’ve always talked about. You just left Zander’s house. You have set a date and it’s now only 48 hours away. April 16 th . Two weeks before graduation. You are going to get revenge on all of them. There’s something freeing about knowing you only have two days to live. You pull the garage door opener from the front pocket of your backpack and hit the right button to lift the door. The garage is empty of her CRV and his Mazda CX5. You resist the urge to throw the bike off to the side because your dad will give you his backhand again and remind you to take care of your things. You lean it against the wall near the front of the garage, put the door down and dig in your pack for your house key. You immediately go to the kitchen and pour yourself a gigantic bowl of cereal to get you to dinner. Mom is always complaining that you are almost out of milk, but you are starving. Hardly any of the school lunch is edible and you were making notes with Zander about how many students were in the cafeteria for first lunch. You were working on drawing the floor plan of the school and the best place to come in the building. Second lunch is when the most people are in the cafeteria, and it is just one corridor from the front entrance of the school.

You take the cereal with you down to your room, spilling some milk on the stairs as you go. Your room is at the end of the hall past mom’s sewing room that she hasn’t used since she stopped sewing clothes for you in kindergarten about the time, she took the job downtown. You throw your backpack on the bed and pull out the box that is smashed between the legs of your study desk. You pull the lid off the box and set aside the black trench coat that is on the top. You pull the notebook from your backpack and add two new names to the list. One is a nickname – Mr. Jockstrap the phys ed teacher. Today was the worst. He was the worst. And now he’s going to pay for calling you out in front of Stacia, making you run laps because you refuse to play volleyball, and saying shit about your skinny legs. And Chris Lancaster. Sonofabitch thinks he runs that school. You wouldn’t mind taking out a few of the football players but if you get Chris, that will be enough. You hear the slam of the front door. Dammit. They are early. You throw the coat back in the box over the sawed off shot gun and shove the box back under the desk. You listen for signs of who it is. There are footsteps into the kitchen. A slam of the fridge door and sound of a beer can opening. It’d dad. He won’t come looking for you. Predictably he will lumber into the tv room and hole up there all night long with the sound on too loud. It will rattle your window. You open your notebook and continue with the list of things you need this weekend. You’ve got a lot to do before Monday morning. You draw a picture of what you will wear. Trenchcoat. Cargo pants. Boots. Practice holding Tec 9. Buy bullets. Buy shells. Practice gearing up. You hardly sleep on Sunday night even though everything is ready. Zander’s been texting you since 4 a.m. He clearly isn’t sleeping either. He is ready to go now. You can picture him pacing in his room just itching to pull the trigger on everyone who has ever pissed him off. Which is just about everyone in your claustrophobic town. He calls himself the original NBK. He’s always runs hotter than you. Did he talk you into this or was it your idea? There’s light sliding in under the black drape over your window where the ends have curled between the pins on each corner. You’ve never had a moment’s doubt until now. It is a flash across your mind. You draw in breath and hold it in your chest until it aches. You don’t want to live anymore in this world where you’ve only lived half-assed. Not good enough looking to get the girls. Not good enough for your dad to even look at anymore. Waste of space. Waste of breath. Leaving your mark on the world on your way out. Finding a way to always be remembered. Making history. What will happen to your Mom? You can’t think about that now. The box is no longer under your desk but in the trunk of your car. You have checked off everything on your list.

You have to leave like it is any old Monday. Your mom has on her worried face because instead of wolfing down breakfast, you don’t even touch the plate. She has never understood you. But she has tried. You don’t regret what you are about to do to them, but you regret what you will do to her. She’s the only victim. The rest deserve this. At 11:31, you enter the cafeteria in your trench coat. The Tec 9 in your hand. It is time.


Aiden stormed out the door and reached for his car, just a minute away from strangling someone. Irritated, he grabbed his irresistible messy hair with both hands and scream his lungs out in the car. Fool of him for thinking this day would be normal. He was tricked again . He’d chose to wear a black t-shirt with a loose denim jacket on top of it and a pair of black skinny jeans and also a pair of black checkered Vans when his parents informed him of the family dinner. He’s been thinking of wearing smart casual kind clothes to the dinner. Aiden’s not into fashion so instead of wasting time trying to pair clothes that look cool and make girls drool when they look at him, he decided to wear whatever he feels comfortable wearing on this cloudless hot sunny day. Whatever, it’s not like wearing something cool makes me cool anyway . Aiden starts the car and drove past the enormous gate that helps secure his parents’ house. This house is not his anymore, he’d long for the day he can finally get out of that place and now he can come and go whenever he wants. It’s not like he doesn’t love his family. He does. But they get on his nerves sometimes and all he can do is breathe, in and out and in and out. He’s driving towards the south in a sudden downpour without knowing his exact destination. All he wanted was just to disappear. To get away from life. From everything. Without realizing, he’d zoned out replaying every single thing that his mother said while speeding at 95km/h. (Everyone must’ve seen this coming anyway) When Aiden finally zoned back in, he has already lost control over the car. It crashed to another car before hitting the barrier on the other side of the road. Unfortunately of him, the barrier broke and his car crashed after they fell from that sharp corner up there. The world then blackout before his eyes and before he knew it he was in a very deep sleep. When Aiden woke up a few hours later, he finds himself in a rather strange place, he figures that it is some kind of a forest. The highway’s gone. His car is gone. He cupped his face and then look at his hands and feet, there are no injuries, even after that fall. “Am I dead or is this a dream?” Aiden asks himself.  “If this is a dream did I actually never get into an accident?” is the second thing he wanted to know after waking up. He checked his watch—not working, then his phone—not working either. Still clueless, he managed to walk a few steps ahead from where he was standing while rubbing his eyes, and when he looked up a whole new world he has never seen anywhere else before standing in front of him. Grasses made of crystals shimmers as the sunlight shines through the forest. Trees with shady orange leaves surrounding the forest give autumn vibes to whoever saw it. Their bulky trunks help them standstill on the ground. A few trees have their roots coming to the surface which makes it a really great spot to relaxed and rest after a long walk. Even the sky looks lovely–blue cloudy sky with a hint of purple. On one side, there’s a river flowed by a girl’s tears. She looks like a ghost from the 17 th century. Her pale skin illuminates the way a lightbulb would in the dark. Big round eyes full of sorrows stare down the river as she cries. Her lip forms a line showing no emotion. Beautiful crown-braided dirty blonde hair decorated with blue and purple flowers shines under the bright sunlight. She’s wearing a stunning blue dress long enough to hide her feet, with layered laces sewed on the wrist part and useless fabric buttons sewed on the chest just for the sake of stylishness. She looks like royalty. For someone that doesn’t care about fashion, Aiden finds that she wears the most fabulous dress ever, unlike the kind most girls wear to prom, this one is way better in the most sophisticated way. This girl, however, looks familiar in Aiden’s eyes. He then walks slowly towards her to confirm his confusion. “Amanda?” he said as he stands 3 meters behind her. The girl turns around and meets his eyes not saying anything to deny nor confirm that she is Amanda that he claims to be. But Aiden recognizes that eyes and beautiful lips that she refused to turn up into a smile. “It is you, you’re Amanda, right? I thought you were dead!” “I’m not Amanda…I’m Heartbroken” Wait, she can talk? Had she been lying to everyone all these years? And why is she here? How is she here? Aiden ignored every question that’s building up inside of him and say what he promised to say if they ever crossed paths again, even in dreams. “I know that you are and I’m sorry that I broke your heart…but please…would you please forgive me for what I had said that day?” “No.” She simply replied. “I’m not heartbroken . My name’s Heartbroken. Others have the same name as mine.” “Oh!” he’s speechless, doesn’t have any idea how to respond to this madness. But he knows she is totally Amanda. So, he created questions so he can keep on talking to her because now she had turned away after his ‘Oh’ and continue flowing the river with her cry. “By any chance, do you know where we are? And how can I get out of here?” “We’re at the land of Forgotten…and no…there’s no way out of here” “Stop messing with me Amanda!” he exclaimed furiously by her responds “Again. I. Am. Not. Amanda. I have no idea who she is. And you couldn’t get out of here until you’ve accomplished your mission like the other humans that accidentally came here.” She replied with the same steady voice from the beginning. “What mission?” “Judging by the way you look and how you talk so much I know that you’re not one of us. So you must’ve been here by mistake. You need to tell one of us how you felt before you got here and they need to do the same thing for you to get out of here. I don’t know how you got here but that’s all I know.” “What exactly does ‘one of us’ meant?” “It means you are not one of The Broken Angels. We are emotions and feelings that failed to be delivered before our owners are dead. We’re trapped here until we finally told a human what we felt before we die. And my name is Heartbroken probably because my owner is dead while she had her heartbroken. However, Forgotten is filled with things people ignore such as us the emotions, broken things that no one cared to repair, and ended up being buried at the back of their house or simply extinct animals that nobody cared about or remembers. There, I explained everything to you.” He’s tongue-tied again. Only then he realizes that this place is full of very old things, or simply unwanted—a few granddaddy clocks are laying around this place, old couches, music box. Besides that, he knew he saw a peacock when he walks over to Amanda (or Heartbroken), but now the peacock is nowhere to be seen, only a cat lingering near the river. This place is strange indeed, but what she said just doesn’t make any sense. “If I need to share my feelings to get out...let me ask you something.” He pauses and waits for her to say something when finally, she nods once allowing him to continue talking. “What makes you a Heartbroken?” “The thing about me is I don’t even know who my owner is before I got here or, but I think I remembered that someone told ‘me’ to get lost, that they are tired of being in a pointless relationship and that they are sick of communicating with ‘me’. So I guess my owner’s death while trying to ‘get lost’?” The part where someone told her to get lost is familiar to Aiden, he said that to her 3 years ago, before she’s gone from his life forever. Everything hasn’t been going the way he wants this week. He’s fired from his job, a few days ago he’d been told to pack his things because he hasn’t paid rent for 4 months–it’s not like he doesn’t want to, but everything is so expensive these days and…, today he’d been diagnosed with brain cancer. He doesn’t like money that much but somehow everything in this world requires money even when his life is at stake. Now his fiancée is standing in front of him and using sign languages asking when will they hold a wedding ceremony. Amanda is mute, but she could hear, so if she wants to say something she will use signs and Aiden will respond by talking. He’d learned sign language because he wanted to ask her out 3 years ago, then they promised to get married last year. But his mood is off and for an introverted person like him, talking is not something he likes very much. But Amanda doesn’t seem to get it, she kept on nudging him to talk. That’s when he lost control and yelled at her, “Could you please stop asking about the wedding! I don’t even have any money to pay for rent but you keep on asking me for things like marriage and a house! And for goodness’ sake do I have to read your signs every time I want your responses? How will you comfort me when I’m down? By using signs? I’m sick of needing to stare at your hands every time we talk. Can’t you see, our relationship is pointless. Unless you can talk like a normal person, get out of my sight at once!” Amanda then ran away reaching for her car and drive away from his house. Now he learned that Amanda is dead for 3 years, he felt so stupid and mad at himself for what he said to her. He couldn’t ask for her forgiveness, and he couldn’t visit her grave either since he doesn’t know where it is. Then he told the Heartbroken ‘Amanda’ how he felt before he got there. “My mother wants me to find my ex-fiancée and reconcile with her. So I’m mad because I don’t want to and I felt ashamed of what I’d said to her when we part ways. I was being a jerk to her before and I don’t deserve her forgiveness even if she had forgiven me. So I get out of the house and started driving. Then, I got into an accident and got here after I woke up.” He replayed everything from family dinner until the time he smashed the barrier and faint. Night has come and ‘Amanda’ is sitting beside him. They don’t talk, just staring at the river together and enjoying each other’s presents. Aiden still felt bad about Amanda, after all, she died while driving because he told her to get lost, but he tried to let go of the past. Hours pass by and he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, he finds himself on the bed. He looked around him and saw his best friend Jayden and his parents staring down at him. “Where am I?” “At the hospital. Everyone has been searching for you for five days. You got into an accident and fell off the highway. We searched and searched and by a miracle, you appeared laying down in between trees on day five. How did you even get there?” Jayden asks. He couldn’t answer them. All he could think about is ‘ Was all that a dream’ ? No one knows…


I play the song one more time and then I get the video ready in the car, and start it. Carter was looking out the window, trying to pull out of the parking lot. I was going to do the kiss your boy best friend challenge. Carter turns back around and I smile at him nervously. Carter has been my best friend since birth pretty much. Carter’s mom and my mom are best friends. Carter’s three months older than me. He looks at me confused, wondering why I’m staring at him. The time on the song is coming up. He has no idea what I’m doing. I’m so nervous I’m practically shaking. Then the song comes up. Does Carter like me more than a best friend? I lean forward quick, but he backs up and nearly pushes me out of the way. I really… I really didn’t think this was going to happen. I thought he was going to kiss me back… I thought he liked me back. We were both single. “What are you doing Reese?” he asks. “I thought…” We are both blushing now. I’ve ruined everything. He hits his head against his steering wheel and the horn blares and I jump. “Happy seventh birthday!”Carter says, smiling and handing me a present. “Finally your age!”I smile. I open my present and it’s the doll that was hand stitched that I had been begging my mom to get me for months. “How did you know?!”I gasp, hugging it to my chest and squeezing it. “Happy twelfth birthday!”Carter smiles. “What do you hope you get?” “Hmm… I really want ‘ Apex Legend’ ,”I replied. He hands me my gift. It’s a box, I shake it. Something’s in the box. I open the wrapping paper. I opened the box and I got exactly what I wanted! I still have the stitched doll Carter got me for my seventh birthday. I used to play Apex Legend almost every day with Carter, but now I almost play it every week. I get out of the car and slam the door behind me. Only friends. Only friends. I listen to sad music in my room. I hug the doll close to my heart. Carter probably hated me. He probably liked Issabella. He’d liked her since Kindergarten. I threw the doll across the room and it hit my TV. Apex Legend was on the TV stand, the doll landed on the case. I felt like crying. I’ve ruined everything! I know more about Carter then anybody else does. He likes art and soccer, golden blond hair, wavy blue eyes, I hated being like this. I hate setting my LED lights to blue, putting my AirPods in, and crying until I fall asleep. I grab the remote from my nightstand next to me. I feel numb now. I wipe away tears and turn the TV on. I get a text message from my phone. Julie. Julie and Carter hate each other. Julie being a girly-girl who hates people like Carter. plz tell me u didnt try & kiss carter I grip my phone hard. Julie doesn’t understand. Carter may be the only person who actually knows me and understands me. Julie only wants her way. I don’t bother texting her back. I watch a sad romance. At least one of the characters has to die. It’s hard watching a movie about these characters who love each other right after you get rejected. The next day at school Julie catches up with me. “You tried to kiss Carter?!” she gasps. “He’s so… gross!” I want to punch her. She doesn’t understand how much I’ve gone through that only Carter bothered to help me with. Days after the incident I don’t get any messages from Carter, he doesn’t bother talking to me in the hallways, he doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. Google search: How to get a guy to like u Ask him to do favors for you Throw a few compliments his way Stay confident Establish eye contact Express interest in his passions Be vulnerable to him See the best in him I start the first one right away. I catch up to Carter in the hallway and pretend that nothing at all happened. “Carter, I’m heading to lacrosse after school today, can you walk my brother home?” I ask. Normally Julie would do this, but I’m going to tell her to do something else in the time being. “Sure?” he says, probably wondering why I’m not talking about what happened days ago. I met my brother after my lacrosse practice and he seems to be in a fine mood. “Did Carter walk you home?” I ask. “Yep,” he replies. “Did you have fun?” I ask casually. “Yeah! We talked about video games the whole way home!” “What type of video games?” I ask. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m busy playing Apex Legend ,” he says. “Hey! That’s my Apex Legend !” Trevor smiles suspiciously and I chase him to his room and he shuts and locks his door. Number one crossed off my list! I met Carter in the hallway the next day. He got new shoes. “Nice Air Jordans,” I compliment. “Thanks,” he mumbles. I go on all day. “I wish I had your blue eyes.” “You got in A in math?! I got a B-!” “Your lucky your mom lets you do only five chores a week for your allowance.” Number two checked off my list! I think joyfully. I stay confident in front of his friends, joking with them and talking about how Chase is really lucky to have a sweet younger sister. I stay confident in front of Chase too and pretend like nothing happened on that one day. Number three, done. Number four, done. I head out to the field to play soccer with him and his friends. After a while I got caught up and I could say I was actually pretty good. I kind of enjoyed it too, maybe I could join a soccer team. Now number six, that one might be tough. I made a group chat with a few of the boys on Carter’s soccer team. I had a plan. The next day I met Hank, Leo, and Jeff at my locker. Carter is coming down the hallway and I tell them to start. Hank, Leo, and Jeff start making fun of me and Carter looks up from his phone. “What the hell are you guys doing?” Carter asks. “Stop!” They walk away and roll their eyes just as planned. Carter comes up to me. “You okay?” It takes me a second to realise I was crying. “I’m fine,” I wipe away tears. “You sure?” he asks, putting his hand on my shoulder and peering down to my face. “I’m sure,” I reply. Number seven is easy. The next few days are nice. Every class I’m in with Carter I look over to him and he’s staring at me, but he always looks away. Then the next day is what kills me the most. “Reese?” Carter asks, running up to me as I leave the school to walk home. “Yeah?” I ask. “Want to go to starbucks at four?” “Sure,” I laugh. We meet in his car, I scroll through my phone and Carter props his phone up on the car window. He looks at me nervously. “What?” I ask. The song places and I know exactly what he’s doing. He leans in and I meet his lips.