Pain

I’ve always thought the worse pain in the world was something I experienced mentally — migraines. Just the feeling that my head was being ripped apart, major nausea, and puking up my guts constantly; was enough for me to decided that if I started to get them daily, I would kill myself. No question there.

Luckily, I’ve only gotten them at least twice a year — that is, if I’m lucky. Sometimes it’s more.

But, now, I’ve come to the conclusion there’s a much more horrible pain. A pain that I can even put into words. Literally.

And that was, being stabbed in the stomach.

Here I was, laying in the middle of a grocery store, my arms gripping my gut. Pain shot throughout my body. I felt like I was being burned alive. My blood was starting to drip in blotches all over the floor. I could only moan for help. Somebody, anybody. Help.

But it was basically empty. And I, was basically going to die here. Great. When I had always pictured how I would die before, it was either peacefully — in my sleep, or heroically — defending someone in danger. I know now that I will die doing neither.

Some random guy just came out of nowhere and stabbed me in the stomach. I was shopping for tampons, for Christ’s sake. Like I needed any more blood at the moment. He sprinted out of the store and left me for dead.

All this time, laying, half-dead, got me thinking. What was his story? Why me? I started to wonder if he had planned to kill me, or did he mistake me for someone else?

And most of all, will anybody even miss me when I die?

It felt like eternity, thinking those kind of thoughts. But really, it probably was around ten minutes. Each minute longer, I could feel the life slowly dripping out of me. Soon, I thought, I would be dead. And no one would care, would they? They might be sad for a little while, but people will get over it. They’ll move on. They’ll forget about me. That’s how life is.

You live, you die.

I wish my English teacher, Mr.Randell, had heard these particular thoughts. He would have been proud. I was never much of a deep thinker, at least not in his class. I was always more of a history kind of person. But now dying, has brought me to question certain things; life itself. I felt like I could write an essay on it.

That is, if I weren’t dying. Which I was.

“Jake! Jake!” I suddenly heard a woman yelling. “Jake, come over here. There’s a girl — she’s — she’s–” Dying? She was lost for words while in panic. I wondered what I looked like in her point of view. Probably like a murder scene. Recently Visited By Hannibal Lecter, Girl Murdered in Grocery Store, the headline would read. Yeah, I like the sound of that.

I might become famous. The famous-for-being-sorta-dead girl. Nice.

I heard the loud sound of footsteps approach me. A pair of converse shoes appeared at my vision. I tried to moan, but my throat was dry as a desert at this point. The person bent down to my level, and it was apparent he was this Jake guy the woman was calling. He looked like a surfer, to say the least. Sandy blonde hair past his ears, and bright blue eyes. He wore a worried expression.

“We’re gonna get you help,” he whispered. I felt his arms try to lift me. “Don’t worry. We just need you to…corporate.” Corporate? “This might hurt,” he warned. Then he picked me up fully. I bit down on my cheek. The pain only got worse. I wanted to scream. “Good girl.” He said through his teeth. I guess I wasn’t exactly a light person.

I could hear the woman from earlier, calling 911, probably. She was mumbling directions to the store. Thank God.

My vision started to got to black at the edges. I tried to blink; tried to make it go away. It didn’t. It continued to take away more and more of my vision. Oddly enough, it reminded me of a migraine. Migraine auras seem to do the same thing sometimes.

It was like I was going blind.

My head bumped up and down as he carried me out. I could feel my eyes get heavy. My breath was slowing. My heartbeat…I could barely feel it anymore. I’m going to die, I thought. I wasn’t scared. I was ready. Just take the pain away, I begged.

And by the time, the sliding doors close behind us, I was out.

Ella

An middle-aged woman, with a stern but beautiful face came through the automatic doors. Her dark hair was pinned tightly around her skull in a bun. Her makeup was hash, with red lips the color of blood. She wore a black dress that revealed little of her pale skin. The skin on her face was minimally wrinkled, showing her true age.

Behind her, followed three young girls. Two of which, showed similar resemblance to her; the same dark hair, and harsh faces. They wore similar white tops and black shirts. The last, and third girl, was almost the opposite. She had hair of gold, and a soft, kind face. Her summer dress was the shade of light blue.

The woman walked to the desk counter, tapping on it impatiently. The secretary glanced up, a phone nudged between her cheek and shoulder. “One second,” she said to the phone, placing it back down. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “There is very much a problem.” She motioned the blond-haired girl forward. She walked up hesitantly. “I wish for my step-daughter to be admitted into this hospital.”

The secretary was quiet for a moment. Her eyes gazed over the girl, who was staring down at the ground. “Ma’am,” she said slowly. “I mean of no insult, but are you sure of your daughter having an mental disorders? This is your first time here, correct?”

“Step-daughter,” the woman snapped. “And, yes, I am sure. This girl–” She grabbed her by the shoulder tightly. “She’s been muttering about having a ‘fairy godmother’ for the past few days — the poor thing has been hallucinating about who knows what. She needs medical assistance.”

“It’s true,” the girl tried to exclaim, but stopped when her step-mother gave her a hard look. She closed her mouth.

The secretary nodded, looking through her papers. “She’ll need to take an exam by a psychiatrist first. But, I will see to her being admitted after, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” the woman said. “Come girls, let’s leave Ella — or Cinderella — to make herself at home.” She turned around, her daughters following. Ell watched them leave, hovering by the counter. Her jaw was clenched, but she wasn’t crying. For, she wouldn’t miss her step-mother or sisters.

This was an escape for her, if anything.

Reflections

I’ve never liked mirrors.

Not in the daytime, especially not in the nighttime. There was something about being around them that brought me uneasiness, and caution. I could never place exactly what it was. I would only allow myself to stare into them for a few minutes, at the most. Any longer than that, and I would feel like something was about to go wrong. Very wrong.

I guess, it was because I felt like mirrors weren’t just a one-way reflection, as most people always said — told me. I’ve found myself thinking that there was another side to them. And if I were to ever so stare a little too long at one, that other side would open.

And then, bad things would happen.

Don’t ask me what those what be. I don’t really know. I just know it wouldn’t be good. It would bring trouble.

So, I allow myself not to stare too long. As simple as that.

But today, it was a bit harder to carry through with this technique. I was going to the prom. Or rather, my parent’s were forcing me to. And if one were to go to prom, one was going to have to sit in front of the mirror and get ready. For many hours. Especially being, a female, as I am.

You see my problem?

“Kat,” my mother said me the moment I flinched from looking the mirror. She had decided it was her job to help me get ready. And really, it kinda was. There was no way I would be able to do my makeup right without making myself look like a clown. “You know what people who fear mirrors are called?” I shook my head. This conversation again, I thought bitterly. “It’s called spectrophobia. There are other people with this problem too, sweetie, you just need to overcome it.”

See, my mom thinks it’s a phobia. A problem. I would tell her it’s much more than just that, but really, she seemed quite proud of herself after discovering the phobia. One of her psychology majored friends, had told her so himself. I didn’t want to burst her bubble. Even if it wasn’t true.

In her eyes, I had a chance to be normal again. I could be a normal daughter. But first, I had to be treated. By a psychiatrist.

Fun stuff, I know. And I’m saying that sarcastically.

“I know,” I replied. Which was basically the word I used for: you’ve already told me that before and I don’t want to talk about it. She seemed to know that, too, because after that she dropped the topic.

By the time she finished my hair and makeup, I was facing my back to the mirror. She kissed me on my forehead, “You want to see the ending product?” Honesty, I wanted to say ‘no’. I didn’t want to look in another mirror for as many hours I could. But she had spend almost an hour and a half preparing me, so I had to say ‘yes’. It was the right thing to do.

She turned me around. I got a quick glimpse of myself before thanking her and turning away. My usually messy brown hair, was pinned on the top of my head in a bun filled with curls. I very minimal makeup on; soft eyeliner, and rose pink lipstick. My eyes seemed bigger, and it somehow brought out their green color nicely. It wasn’t much, but I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

I went to my room and slipped on the dress I had placed on my bed. It was a light shade of pink, and fell past my knees. It’s silky fabric was cool as it pressed to my skin. It fitted my body almost perfectly. And that was all I needed to know, for I wasn’t going to even dare to look in the mirror again.

The doorbell rang almost immediately after. I dashed down the stairs to get the door.

Now, the person I was going to prom with, wasn’t my decision, exactly. It wasn’t my decision at all, actually. It was my parent’s idea, once again. “It’s your senior year,” they would say, “You have to go to prom!”

So they made me go with family friend and neighbor, Joey Miles.

Joey wasn’t a bad person. I liked the guy a lot, really. But I never saw him as someone I would go to prom with, or date, for that matter. He was just a friend. I saw him as an older brother, more than anything. And let me tell you, he already knew that, too.

In middle school, he had confessed he had a crush on me. I, of course, had to reject him. He was only a friend. And that seemed to break his heart, even though middle school dating wasn’t really dating. I mean, you eat lunch together, and that was that. Then, maybe a week — or if you’re lucky — a few months later, you break up.

Anyways, he eventually got over it. And somehow, our friendship stayed intact. Our parent’s thought it was a brilliant idea for the both of us to go to prom together, since neither of us were probably going to get a date. Because, we’re such charming people.

And it wasn’t that Joey was ugly or anything, he was just…

Well, let me just describe him for you.

When I opened the door, he had his hand held up, as if he was about to knock. He slowly brought it down, awkwardly. “Oh, hi,” he greeted with a wide smile. His smile was probably his best quality. It was one of those smiles that told you everything was going to be okay.

“Hey,” I replied. He nodded. I noticed his eyes were fixated on my dress. “Nice dress, huh?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were even capable of dressing nicely,” he said. I smacked him in the arm. “Kidding.”

I turned my head, calling, “Mom! Joey’s here. We’re gonna leave now.”

“Have fun, honey!” She yelled back down from upstairs. I suspected she was working on her soon-to-be novel.

“Bye,” I shouted. “Bye, Miss. Walden!”  Joey chimed in.

Joey led me out to his truck. He opened the door for me. “Such a gentlemen,” I observed. “Even that suit is so very…dashing.”

He wore a navy blue suit, with a red rose hooked in his right pocket. It matched his dark brown hair almost perfectly, which he had slicked back for the occasion. His glasses were pushed to the bridge of his nose, as usual. He looked like a nerd in a suit, basically. But it was the cute type of nerd.

He rolled his eyes. “Get in the car Kit-Kat.” I smiled and hopped inside. Kit-Kat was a nickname he gave me in grade school. Kit-Kat’s used to be one of the very few things I would eat back then. I was a picky eater up and ‘till middle school. Thank God, I got over that one.

He adjusted the mirrors. I flinched. I saw his eyes flicker in my direction. “Kat,” he said slowly. “You really need to do something about that.” He started up the truck.

“It’s nothing,” I told him. He started to back up, and then drove down the neighborhood street. It was already starting to get foggy. The street lights beamed as we passed by them.

“Yes, it is, Kat,” he disagreed. “You’ve had the fear since we’ve known each other.”

I was about to argue that I’ve only had the problem with mirrors since I was seven, because of a bad dream I once had. And we had met when we were five, but instead I said, “You sound like my mom. She keeps bring up the same conversation.”

I had dreamt I was going to the bathroom, but none of the house lights worked. I walked into the bathroom, trying to flip on the switch. But, of course, that didn’t work either. Then I did my business and washed my hands. I glanced up at the mirror for a moment. In my reflection, I saw me, but at the same time, it wasn’t me. It was a demonic version of me. I had black eyes, with no whites. My teeth were razor sharp. I was grinning in the reflection; laughing.

Then I woke up.

The dream had scared me of mirrors ever since. “She’s worried about you,” he said, stirring the wheel. He glanced over, “As am I. This isn’t a normal fear, Kat.”

“I know.” I ended the conversation.

The rest of the ride was in silence. We didn’t speak again until we parked in the school’s parking lot.

Elevator

There was no music playing as the elevator went up. Lauren thought it was quite odd, being that she’d never been in a silent elevator before, but she didn’t allow herself to ponder it too much. Her thoughts quickly went back to other things. Like the numbers flashing on the top, that went so fast, she was unable to read them. Or the emptiness of the elevator, because of it’s lack of buttons. This, brought her some uneasiness. How count it be moving if there was no buttons to command it to do so?

Then, it occurred to her that she couldn’t remember how she had gotten there in the first place. She pressed a finger to her lips as she thought of this. But before she could connect any of the dots, the elevator stopped and it’s doors slid open. She hesitantly walked out.

It was a waiting room. Almost empty, except for a few people that were seated in chairs scattered around the room. No one, she noticed, sat nearby each other. Placed at the opposite walls, was a counter with an old woman sitting behind it.

Lauren decided to approach her. “Excuse me,” she said. The woman made no indication she saw her. She continued to write something of which, she couldn’t read. Not up-side-down, at least. “Excuse me…uh, ma’am?”

The old woman finally looked up. She arched a brow. “What do you want?”

“Just — where exactly am I?” Lauren asked, glancing around the room. “I found myself in that elevator, and no recollection of how I got here.”

“Oh, whoop-de-do,” the woman said sarcastically. She pulled out a nail filler and started to apply it to her long nails. “You know how many times I day I’m asked that question?”

“I don’t–”

“You’re dead. Got that? D-E-A-D. Dead.” Lauren parted her lips in confusion. “Now got sit down and wait your turn,” the old woman snapped.

She obeyed.

She strode across the room and slide into an empty chair. “I was just asking, jeez…don’t have to be so rude about it. I’m dead, huh? ‘D-E-A-D’,” she muttered to herself. “Well, let me tell you — you old hag, I’m feeling very much alive at the moment.” She pressed a hand to her cheek, and propped her shoulder to the arm rest. Then she waited.

“Girl,” the old woman later called. Lauren glanced up. “Yes, you. Hurry up.” She stood up and went to the counter quickly.

She gave the woman a questioning look, “Yes?”“You’re up,” was all the woman said. She pointed her chin towards a door in the back of the room. Lauren did the only thing she could — she walked to the door, and opened it without any hesitation.

It looked to be an office room; a small desk and shelves stacked with books in every corner. Behind the desk, was a teenage girl with messy black hair. Her eyes were smeared with black eye liner. She had her legs propped on the top of the desk. “Lauren Kelly,” she said. “Sit.”

Lauren sat. “What am I doing here?”

“Oh, how common of you to ask.” The other girl asked. “What are you doing here?” Lauren stared at her confused. She thought for a moment.

“Well, the older woman said I died, or rather, I was ‘D-E-A-D’.” She told her bitterly.

“Ding, ding, ding!” The black-haired girl exclaimed. “Correct.” She paused, leaning forward. “How do you suppose it happened?”

“My death?” Asked Lauren. The other girl nodded. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to tell me?”

She laughed. “I guess.” Her eyes narrowed, and a smile spread across her face. “The question is, do you want to hear it?”

“Of course.”

“You died Saturday, May 29th,” she started. “Yesterday. Your body was found in a small creek, outside of Brooke. Naked, mutated…raped. Someone murdered you.”

Lauren stared down at her hands. Her vision was blurry. “I…what?” She blinked and regained focus. Her brain finally registered the other girl’s words. “That’s horrible…a horrible way to die.”

“It is,” the female agreed. “That’s why, I am willing to give you a second chance.” She grinned.

“‘A second chance’?” Lauren questioned.

“Yes, in your past life, you were a good person, overall. You got good grades, took care of your family, even helped abandoned animals.”

“I did?” Lauren blinked.

“Yeah, yeah. You were very cute,” the girl said. “So, you will get another shot in life. You’ll be reborn. Good as new. Of course, you won’t remember anything, but that’s the price, isn’t it?”

“Reborn…” whispered Lauren.

“Yup. So what do you say?”

Lauren swallowed. She folded her hands. “That’s all? I just have to agree, and I’ll be reborn?”

“Well…” said the black-hair girl. “Not quite. You also have to agree to something else.”

“And what’s that?”

“You have to fall in love with the reborn soul of the man who murdered you.” The other girl was looking away. She tapped her fingers on the table nervously.

“What?” Lauren exclaimed.

“I know, I know. But that’s how deals work here. And he’ll be like a whole other person, so it isn’t really that bad.” Her eyes flickered around the room, and then back to Lauren. “So, what do you say? Deal?”

“Do I…have any other choices?”

“Not really.”

Lauren sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

The other female clapped her hands together. “Great! I’ll get you started right away then.” She scribbled something down on a paper. “Remember: you won’t remember anything. It will be like started you’re all over again.” Lauren was about to respond but then the girl started to disappear, along with the room.

Everything went black.

Dinner

Iris strode into the room, being lead by a tall, blond woman who went by the name of Alice. The other woman was wearing a baby blue dress that brought out her gray eyes and hugged her figure perfectly. Iris, on the other hand, was wearing a loose tunic shirt the color of dark maroon and black leggings. Her shoes were black flats that reflected in the lights — she never was fond of heels, unless, of course, if they were on boots.

In the middle of the room, she noticed, was a gigantic table. It was covered with a dark red fabric that almost looked black in the lighting of the room. Like blood, she found herself thinking. Plates covered the table, each with their own wine glasses. Silverware and candles were also present. And around it, sat less than a dozen people. Iris tightened her jaw. She was never informed for there to be other people at this dinner. But then, he had never said she would be alone either. At least now, she wouldn’t have to put up with the infamous Alen Daemons by herself. She wasn’t quite sure of the guy, herself.

“Here,” Alice said, who brought her to an empty seat, pulling it out for her to sit. She thanked the other woman, sitting. Alice only nodded and then went back to stand by the doorway. Iris unfolded the table napkin and laid it her lap, where she put her hands on top of it. Though, they soon when to gripping her knees, while one of her feet bobbed up and down. She pushed a piece of her ink black hair back, which she tried to pin into a nice bun, but it seemed strands of her hair refused to be held in.

“Good, good,” Alen said, nodding in her direction. “Only a few more people to come.” A small sense of confusion went across her face, but she made sure that it wasn’t of notice, and quickly went back to being straight-faced. A few more people? She thought. How many more will there be?

Her eyes skimmed over the other faces at the table. She started to take note of each person’s face. None of whom, she knew.

To her very left, at the end of the table, was Alen. He seemed to be enjoying himself quite well, sipping at his wine, and chatting with a petite blond woman who almost sat directly across from Iris, slightly right — for, the seat exactly in front of her, was still empty. Next to the blonde woman, was a young man who almost mirrored her exact looks. Siblings, she told herself. They had to be — same blonde hair, and light caramel eyes.

After them, were another two empty seats. Then, a woman with noticeably dyed black hair, cropped just under her ears. At the other end, next to her, was an older man, with graying brown hair and glasses propped over his nose. Although, the guests were requested to dress nicely for the dinner, he wore a lab coat instead. On Iris’s side, and next to the older man, sat a blonde woman with short hair and hazel eyes. She would smile kindly at other’s remarks every so often, but even Iris had yet to see her actually talk.

Another two seats were empty, and then there was the last set of people, who sat next to Iris — a woman and man. The woman had bleach blonde hair styled as a pixie-cut, and the man, messy brown hair. They both looked to be of Asian descent, to Iris’s notice.

Iris took a sip of the wine that was placed in front of her. She placed it back down pleasantly. Wine, was something she hadn’t had in a long time. She felt herself smile at the thought for a moment. Then suddenly, Alen raised his voice, bringing all the attention to himself. He stood up from his seat.

“The last guests,” he exclaimed. “Have made it at last.” He then sat down. Alice brought in a pair of blonde men, who she immediately recognized as Jonathan’s older brothers: Alexander and Christian. Behind them, was Lillie, Iris’s closest thing to a friend, and Jonathan. He and his brothers, she noticed shared very similar looks — with the same shade of blonde hair and facial structure. The only difference was the way they styled their hair. Alexander’s was passed his ears, bone-straight. Christian’s cut at his neck. And Jonathan’s whose hair was curly at its ends and mid-way down his neck.

All four sat down, and then Alice placed herself in the once empty seat in front of Iris. Now, the table was entirely full. Fourteen in all.

“Now,” said Alen. “We can finally begin our dinner.” He smiled.

It’s You

“Ah,” the woman said as Amber stepped into the small shop, the bells on the door ringing behind her. “It’s you.” Amber gave the woman a harsh smile. She propped herself against the counter, looking at the woman indirectly, with only half her face turned towards her. The shadows covered part of her face, making her skin look almost like porcelain against her bleach blond hair.

“You know what I need,” said Amber. She turned, facing her. “You have it?”

The woman was quiet. “Why do you need it?” Her eyes narrowed. Amber noticed her fingers were fidgeting in their embrace. She was nervous. Amber laughed.

“I work for a guy who happens to need it. You gonna give it or not?” Amber waited for an answer. She scratched at the back of her head. Pulling her hand down, she added, “I will warn you, I do have backup — if you refuse, that is.”

The woman grimaced. Her expression was filled with distaste. She turned around and opened a cabinet that was located at her knees. She pulled out a small box and placed it on the counter. Her hands were shaking. “This is all I have left,” she told Amber. She pushed it forward. Amber took it and lifted off the top. There was a least a dozen small bullets in it. Each, tinted blue and had glass encasing that shone a green liquid inside.

“That’s all?” Amber asked. She closed the box. “Alen wanted at least double this amount.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” the woman told her, not sounding empathic in the least. Her eyes were cold. “Someone beat you to it.”

“Ha.” Amber muttered. She took the box and pushed it into her jacket pocket. “The lies you continue to speak amazing me.”

The woman ignored her comment. “The pay?”

“Alen will pay you later,” Amber replied calmly. “We’ll keep in touch.” She spun around, with a lazy flash of a wave. She went towards the door.

“This Alen,” the woman decided to say. “Who exactly is he?” Amber stopped in the doorway. She turned her head.

“That is not for me to say. But, I can tell you that he isn’t someone to forget a person who doesn’t give him the amount he has requested.”

Amber slammed the door behind her. She walked past Tabitha and Isaak who were sitting outside; waiting.

“Got it?” Tabitha asked. She glanced at the other female curiously. Amber took out the box and threw it up in the air, catching it.

“Got it,” she answered proudly. “Now you do your job and let’s get outta here.”  Tabitha nodded and took her turn to go inside the shop. Amber rested next to Isaak, pressing herself to the outside wall of the building. They waited.

Inside, there was a single woman’s scream.

Weapons

“In here, please,” Alice told them, holding the door open. She motioned them to walk inside. Tabitha and Lance stepped in, with her right behind them. The door clicked shut almost immediately. “This is the newly refurbished weapons room. Take what you need.” The older woman backed away, and stood to the side, allowing them to walk around.

Assortments of different weapons were stacked in every open space. It ranged from classic swords, to highly advanced guns with simulation pain triggers. Medical care stood at the end of the room, and armor protection at another. Tabitha eyed all of it, amazed. Lance, although hiding his expression, stared down the at weapons he held with a sparkle of admiration.

“Wow,” Tabitha started. “You’ve really upped your game since the last time we’ve been here.”

“That was the plan,” said Alice. There was an unlocking of the door, and a pair of foot steps accompanying it. Tabitha turned around, a blade still resting in her hands. A young woman and man came inside. The woman had a messy pixie-cut styled hair, bleached blond; her hair’s dark roots noticeable. Her eyes were angular, as of Asian descent. She was short, like Tabitha, but still stood a few inches taller. Next to her, stood a man with dark hair and green eyes, as foreign as her’s.

“What are these children doing here?” The woman asked Alice. She put a hand to her waist, her eyes narrowing.

“That is Tabitha and Lance Wield, Amber,” Alice told her, ignoring her comment. She then looked to Tabitha and her brother, with an arm motioning to Amber and the man next to her. “Amber Lee and Isaak Ito.” Isaak made a slight nod to them as a greeting.

Tabitha only tilted her head. “We’re not children.”

“Yeah, sure,” Amber laughed. She touched Isaak’s shoulder lightly. “Let’s get the gear.” He nodded. They then nudged passed Tabitha and Lance. Tabitha’s fingers tightened around the knife. It pricked her skin, but made no incisions.

“You’re barely taller than me!” She exclaimed. “How old are you, huh? I bet you’re no older either.” Amber spun around. Lance gripped her shoulder, and gave her a hard look. Stop, his expression read. Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

“I’m 22,” Amber said, flashing her fingers. “And anyone who is younger, which I’m sure you are, is considered a child to me. So stop complaining and leave me alone.” She turned back around and grabbed a gun. In a hushed voice, she said to Isaak, “Kids these days, can you believe them? They don’t know when to shut up.”

The knife in her fingers flew through the air. It stuck right next to Amber’s head, in the wall, still bobbing from the impact. She could feel her brother tense up, Alice stood at the other side of the room, shaking her head. But, Amber, she looked at her, amused. “You,” she grinned. “Have spunk.”

She pulled out the knife from the wall and studied it for a moment. Then she held it up to Tabitha. “Mind if I borrow this?” When Tabitha didn’t answer, she said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Amber and Isaak went to then leave the room. As she walked passed Tabitha, she gave her a slight nudge in the arm. “You, kid, I approve of you.” And with a nod towards Alice, she left.

Mermaid

The first time Kai had seen her, he was laying on the sandy shore, unsure of how had had gotten there. His hair was a damp and tangled mess. Sand stuck to him and itched at his skin. His swim shorts were heavy with water still clinging to the fabric. He slowly sat up, his body aching. He had been surfing…and then what?

He couldn’t remember.

Images of the waves crashing over him, and his board bobbing up to the surface, flashed in his mind. Something had hit against his head hard. Then it all went black. He pressed a hand to the back of his head, pain shot through him. He gasped, holding up his hand. It was sticky with blood. He stared at it in horror.

Kai wasn’t scared of many things, but blood happened to be one of them. He tightened his jaw and tried not to scream. He closed his eyes, once or twice, and took in a few breaths. He glanced down at his bloody hand again, and told himself not to freak out. He needed to go to the hospital. He needed to get help.

He brought himself up, almost stumbling in the sand. He thought he could hear laughter behind him. A wave splashed against his feet; cold. He turned around — and that was when he saw her.

She was in the shallow depths. Her hair ink black, eyes the same color of the salty water. She smirked at him, a laugh still playing on her red lips. The gray tail she had splashed behind her. He could only stare.

Kai had heard legends of mermaids countless times before. Some say they would lure sailors into the sea, and drown them just for fun. Fun. Other’s go with the more nicer, sweeter version; that they were harmless, playful, and beautiful creatures. He wasn’t sure which to believe. The later was surely the better one, but by the looks of her, the other seemed more fitting.

“Did you save me?” He asked her. She titled her head at him, as if confused. “I almost drowned, didn’t I?” She said nothing. He closed his mouth. Maybe she couldn’t understand him?

She swam closer. But then something else clicked in her mind, and she spun around. She jumped back into the water, being swallowed by it. Kai could only watch in confusion.

Little did he know, he would see her again very soon.

Just a Dream

When Rachel woke up in the middle of the night, she felt an unusual pain at her right leg. Maybe it was a bug bite, she thought, or maybe, she was just half-asleep and making up things. She switched on the light. With further inspection of her leg, she found three raised red, and irritated dots down the calf of her leg. The were in a straight row, and the red around them connected them like a line down her leg.

She found this weird, but didn’t think too much of it. She told herself she would ask her dad about it in the morning. He was a doctor, and knew he years of experience with things like this. She went to the bathroom, and then back to bed. Within the moments of her head hitting the pillow, she fell back asleep.

In the morning, she checked her leg to see if the dots were still there. To her surprised, they were gone, as if they had never been there. She decided not to mention them to her father during breakfast, or her friends at school. What was the point, if there was no evidence of it ever happening?
Maybe, it was just a dream.

Clothing Store

Tabitha walked through the clothing store, her fingers touching each piece of cloth as she passed. The silk feel cool under her fingertips; the wool was soft and full of warmth. She stopped at the dresses, and started to shuffle through the racks with ease. They were filled with soft spring colors — her favorite. She pulled out a peachy pink dress, that for normal sized people might fall at their knees, but for her…it would be at her ankles. She sighed and put it back. She hated shopping for her small figure. It made her feel like a child.

She rummaged past the back of the rack for another dress. There, she found a purple one, with soft fabric, that just might work. She glanced at the size tag. Small. She could almost smile.

Suddenly, there was soft pressure of a hand brushing her shoulder blade. She spun around to see Alen Daemons standing behind her. Her mouth hung open. “Alen,” she said, swallowing, and wrapping the dress over her arm. “What are you doing here?”

He looked horrible. His hair was matted, and sticking out at every end. His normally so very blue eyes were faded. The skin under them, the color of deep purple. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, or even a month. His clothes were messily arranged into a button-up that, Tabitha noticed, was buttoned wrong, and slacks that hung off him baggily — a few sizes too big. His shoes didn’t match.

“I’m looking for a new suit,” he finally said. “I thought I might check around in here.”

Tabitha hugged the dress in her arms tightly. “Alen, this is a women’s clothing store.”

“Oh, is it?” He glanced around, as if in a dazed. “I didn’t happen to notice.” He scratched the back of his head, leaving it only messier than before. He blinked.

“Alen, are you okay?” She asked, biting her lip. She looked up at him, a bit worried. Although, she wasn’t quite fond of the older boy anymore, they did have some past together, and he wasn’t a horrible person. Just confused. So very, very confused.

Alen sighed. “No, Tabitha dear, I am not. But thank you for asking.” He turned away, almost stumbling over. He caught himself over a clothes rack clumsily. Now, Tabitha knew something was very wrong. The Alen she knew never fell. He was the most balanced person she knew.

Her hand lightly touched his shoulder, “Would you like to talk about it?”

He turned slightly. The light hit his eyes so they looked almost sky blue. He gave her a sad look, with his face still pointed in the other direction. “Now, why would you do that? Since when, my dear, have you started to care about me again?” His voice was raw. Tabitha’s skin pricked all over. She took a step back.

“I-I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I just thought…”

Alen only shook his head. “How about we take this somewhere else? I’d hate to make a scene here.” He looked in the direction of other women flooding the store. Not one was staring or even glancing their way. But Tabitha said nothing and followed him out. The purple dress she had picked up, was placed back in it’s rightful place.

She hated that shade on herself anyways.

“So tell me now, dear,” Alen said as they left the store, and went into the busy streets, “When did you and your brother start to travel alone? I’ve never seen you apart. Did he not want to buy some clothing for himself?”

“Once again, that was a women’s clothing store, Alen,” she reminded, as kindly as she could. “And no, he was busy doing something else.” With someone else, her mind added bitterly. They stopped at the crosswalk and waited for it to flash green.

“Shame,” Alen replied. “I would have loved to see his most lovable face. Maybe punch it.” He was staring across the street, his eyes wondering. He surely didn’t look mad, but Tabitha could tell very well, that he was. The frustration was all in his voice and manners of speaking.

They started to walk again. People pushed passed them, as they headed towards the opposite side of the street. The familiar sounds of running cars and raised voices filled the street. The scent of fresh rain still stuck in the air.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are we just walking these streets endlessly, Alen Daemons.” Tabitha said.

Alen peered at her from the corner of his eyes. His bangs brushed over the lashes that shadowed his eyes. “With time, my dear, with time.” He tugged at her arm to the direction of the central park. They finally stopped at a bench that was shadowed by a large tree.

“So, tell me,” Tabitha started. “What in the world has happened, Alen? I’ve never seen you this…”

“Horrible? Messed up?” Alen sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.” He shuffled a hand threw his hair with frustration.

“What is?” She asked. Tabitha cross her legs, pointing her head towards him with curiosity.

“First,” he said, raising a finger. “Tell me me about your brother. What is he doing?”

“That doesn’t matter,” She told him angrily. “Forget Lance. I want to know about you, Alen. You.”

“You’re distracted yourself from him by concerning yourself with my problems,” Alen told her. She closed her mouth. She hadn’t thought of it that way. But, truthfully, he was right. The reason she had gone shopping; the reason she followed Alen…they were all to avoid her brother. “Don’t Pretend you’re not, Tabitha. I know you quite well.”

Tabitha brought out a deep breath. “You know me too well,” she shook her head, her hair moving with her. “Lance is with…a woman.”

Alen blinked. “A woman?”

She fixed her posture, and sat up straight. “Please tell me Melissa is still in Paris,” Tabitha suddenly said, changing the topic. “She’s still there, right? Right?”

His face darkened. He slouched over, a hand resting against his face. And without any words at all, she finally had found what was bothering him. Just with that look alone. “No,” he replied. “No, she came back. She’s here, Tabitha. She’s here.”

“God damn it.” Tabitha cursed. Her hand slammed against the bench in a closed fist. “That’s just what I had feared.” Alen looked at her for answers. “Lance has been hanging around with that bitch. I was hoping it was a different Melissa, you know, he had never met your sister. But…”

“It’s her,” Alen finished. She nodded in response. His jaw clenched tightly. “You asked what was wrong? She took the company. Everything. That job was my life…and now it’s gone. Gone!” His face fell into his hands. Tabitha wanted to reach for him; to comfort him, but she knew that would be too much. That was another woman’s job, not her’s.

They sat in silence. The wind blowed through. Tabitha’s hair went with the breeze, pieces of it hit her face lightly. She pushed it away. Alen’s body slightly shook. She frowned.

“What about Alice?” She asked. Alen said nothing. “She came with you…right?” He was silent. There was uneasiness filling her gut.

Alen looked up at her for a moment. “No, she stayed. She had a choice, and choice to stay. With Melissa.” His face went back to being hidden by his hands. Tabitha noticed how long and slender they were. His skin color was as pale as milk. She then looked to her own, that were slightly tanned from the excess sunlight.

“Damn,” She muttered. “You two had the most on-and-off relationship I’ve ever seen, but I never expected her to do something like that.”

“She stayed for the money,” Alen said through his fingers. “Is it that hard to believe?” He finally sat back up. He stared out into the park, not looking once at her. The sunlight was fading, and the shadows grew. The day was turning to an end. And it seemed, Alen was heading with it, Tabitha thought. He wanted it all to end.

“Yes, it is.” She said to him. “Alen,” she paused for a moment, choosing her words wisely. “Do you know why we dated — or rather — why I asked to date you?”

He shook his head, slightly confused. “Where are you going with this, dearest?”

“I wanted to fix you. I saw you as an injured and confused animal. I thought if we dated, maybe, just maybe, I could heal that heart of your. All those wounds your mother and sister created might just vanish. But…as you know, it didn’t quite work that way.

“When we broke it off, I finally saw what when wrong. You didn’t need anyone to fix you, Alen. You needed someone to understand you. Someone to love you as you are–”

“Where are you getting with this?” Alen cut off. His voice was thick.

“What I’m trying to say is, that person who you needed — was Alice. She understood you, and stood by you. She loved you.”

“Apparently, not enough.” Alen replied bitterly.
“She’ll come back,” Tabitha told him. “I know she will. She is the type of person I could never be. And she’ll come back.”