The Princess (continuation of The Assasin)

She ran back into the woods, slipping stealthily from tree to tree. It didn't take her long to reach the edge of the forest where a girl wearing a nearly identical uniform to hers waited. Her hair was in a looped and pinned braid instead of in a bun, and a spell book was attached to her right hip as opposed to swords at her back. They grinned at each other beneath their masks as the first girl approached. Her waiting partner greeted her warmly. "Hey, Kianna. How'd it go?"

Kianna removed her mask and put it to the side, letting her hair down and removing her signature violet. "Oh, you know. It sucks when you come and they're asleep, but he really didn't deserve remorse after what he did. He killed two children in his attempt to take over my father's kingdom. Were we cleared, Lenna?"

Lenna nodded. "I talked to my big brother. Excuse me, Captain Alexander. They both rolled their eyes. "The body will be taken care of." Lenna muttered an incantation under her breath and their normal clothes appeared.

The pair started to get dressed in the clothes that Kianna had designed. Kianna was taking a huge risk in being there, not only because it was a dangerous job, but because it was illegal. Noble born women were not allowed to even learn how to fight. They were supposed to take up a hobby to take up the time that would have been spent learning to fight or working, hence the clothing design. It was a tradition that went back to the very beginning of the kingdom. Kianna never believed in it. She wanted to help her kingdom in every way she could. That was part of why she decided to become an assassin. Even the king didn't know the identities of his assassins. The only people who knew of her secret life were Lenna and Alexander. She would've never taken this path if she had never met the pair of siblings who were her best friends.

A young Kianna walked through the kingdom with her mother and father on the day of the carnival. Theirs was a peaceful kingdom well guarded by the king's assassins, so the monarch's decided it would be safe enough to let their young daughter run around and play with the other children like a normal kid would. The young princess was extremely excited. She had "friends" in the children of the other nobles, but they all wanted something from her. She would hear the whispers of the nobles to their children. "Make friends with the princess while she's young. She'll remember you later." "Go make friends with Princess Kianna. It'll help our family's standing. You know how important it is to Mommy." Kianna had always been an amazingly attentive child, and very little went beyond her notice.

That's why Kianna was so excited for today. These children had not been trained from a young age to have an agenda. They would like her. If there was anything to actually like... She was suddenly nervous. As excited as she had been to earn friends on her own merits, it was now painfully nerve-wracking. Kianna doubted her ability to make friends on her own merits. Did she even have any besides princess of the kingdom?

Kianna glanced up at her dad with panicked eyes. He seemed, as always, to be able to easily ready what was behind her deep, liquid-gold eyes. The king knelt down in front of his five year old daughter and smiled kindly. "Don't worry, my little flower. They'll love you. I know I do." She smiled at her nickname. She had earned it one day defending a small violet in their garden that one of the other noble children wanted to step on. Her father beamed proudly at her for her defense of what she claimed was "an innocent life that he had no right destroying." The boy had been deeply offended, but her father couldn't have been prouder. He had called her his little flower from that day foreword. "Now go make some friends!"

She ran off grinning, confidence restored. Kianna couldn't wait to make friends. She ran off into the crowd and up to the first group of kids she could find. She looked up at the boy a few years older than her and grinned happily at him. "Hi! My name's Kianna! Wanna be my friend?"

The boy laughed at her. "What are you, three? No. I don't want to be your friend."

Never having faced rejection before, Kianna teared up almost immediately, but she refused to allow them to fall. "Well you know what? You're just a big meanie head!"

Face scrunched up in a childish anger, the boy shoved Kianna harshly. "Oh ya? I'll give you something to cry about, big whine baby!"

At this point Kianna really was crying. She had lived a very sheltered life in the castle, and this was not the sort of treatment she was used to getting. But before she could get too upset, she heard another childish voice come to her defense. "Hey! Leave her alone!"

The boy sneered down at the other little girl who was no more than a year older than Kianna. "Ha! Who's goanna make me, you?"

The girl nodded, and before he had time to relax, she kicked him in the chest. He fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Satisfied that the problem had been taken care of, the girl turned and helped Kianna up. "Hey. Are you alright?"

"Y-ya," Kianna replied shakily. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"Don't mention it! I don't like meanies like him." The little girl grinned. Her big blue eyes sparkled happily.

Neither of them noticed the boy get up, but an older boy did, and he stopped the kid with one hand as he started to run towards the girls. "This guy bothering you, sis?"

Kianna's savior turned at the voice, her long brown braid bobbing with the motion. "Alexander! A little bit. I took care of it, though."

Alexander shoved the kid off with a warning look that let him know to leave the girls alone before turning back to Kianna and his sister with a smirk. "Ya, I bet you did, kiddo." He ruffled his sister's hair, dislodging a few of the strands from her braid. "Who's your friend?"

At the word friend, Kianna's heart started racing. Was she really this girl's friend? "Oh ya!" The girl stood next to her brother and turned back to Kianna. "I'm Lenna, and this is my brother Alexander. He's nine," she stated with some pride. "What's your name?"

"Kia," Kianna stuttered out nervously, looking back and fourth between the nice girl and the roguish boy with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail and blue eyes sparkling with mischief. She had never gone by the nickname before, but she was suddenly very self conscious about who she was. Would these kids not want to play with her if they knew who she was?

Lenna smiled happily back at her. "Kia. Wanna come play with us?"

Kia grinned happily. "Ya."

The king watched on happily as his daughter ran off with the other children.

It had been many months later when the children all learned of the true identities of their friends. It had come as a great shock to all of them. It was one of the most terrifying days of any of their lives, second only to the day they made the pact to become assassins. Even assassins didn't usually know each other's identities, but they were an exception. Since they decided to join together, they obviously knew each other's identities, and with a small bit of luck they ended up making up a unit.

Kianna rushed eagerly down the streets of the kingdom. She was going to meet with Lenna and Alex. The young princess had only grown closer with the two siblings after the day of the carnival, and she was now making her way into town on a bi-weekly basis.

She rounded the corner and found Alex and Lenna standing in their usual meeting spot; the place where they all met that day at the carnival. "Lenna!" Kianna ran at her best friend without reservation.

"Kia!" Lenna returned the gesture and the two kids crashed into each other, each holding onto the other tightly as they fell to the ground laughing.

Alex came up behind the two of them and ruffled their hair, chuckling at the antics of the younger kids. "Get up, guys. We have something really cool to show you, Kia!"

Kia had since grown very used to, and fond of, the improvised name she had given the day they met. It felt special to her. Only Lenna and Alex were allowed to call her Kia. It was something special for only her true friends to call her, and she loved it.

Lenna perked up at her older brother's mention of their surprise for their friend. "Oh ya! Come on Kia! It's super awesome!"

Grabbing her arm, Lenna pulled Kia up before running after Alexander in the direction of whatever surprise it was they had in store. They ran for a long time until they neared the very outskirts of the kingdom. They pressed on further, and Kianna got a bit nervous. She had never been that far from the castle, which was located at the center of the kingdom, before, but she brushed the feelings aside.

They finally reached the small section of woods within the kingdom limits and pushed a little further. Kianna gasped. It had definitely been worth the run and the small bit of anxiety that had welled inside her as they ran further and further from what she knew. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. There was a small clearing in the tiny forest dominated by a small lake that was fed by a waterfall that went somewhere much farther. There were large boulders all around the clearing that were begging to be climbed on. Finally, Kianna managed to utter out, "Wow..."

"I know," Lenna cried, thrilled with her best friend's reaction. "I said the same thing when Alexander showed it to me!"

Alexander grinned triumphantly at the excited girls. His little sister and his "little sister". Even if they hadn't told her who they were, they considered her family, and if they weren't so scared of losing that, they would tell her their last name. "I found it when I was out practicing sword fighting with the guys. I knew you girls would love it."

The group of friends spent hours running around playing any games they could think of. Tag, hide and seek, you name it. It was during one of these games of hide and seek that disaster would strike and carefully kept secrets would be revealed.

It was Kianna's turn to seek, an experience that she was thrilled with. When she played with the noble children, she was never the seeker, as it was a task most of them detested and they had all been instructed by their parents to keep her happy, but she loved seeking. Every turn around a corner, every possible hiding place thrilled her. She searched for any clues she could, small shuffling sounds, bent down plants. The game for them had soon turned from Hide and Seek to Hide From Kia. She was very good at seeking and it added an extra element of excitement to the game.

This time Alexander and Lenna had done an exceptionally good job of hiding, and Kianna was at a loss. She decided to climb to the top of one of the tallest boulders to get a bird's eye view. It was a good idea, and while she was up there she thought she got an idea as to where one of her best friends was hiding. Unfortunately, while she was up there, her balance failed her, and she fell off the boulder, yelling for help as she plummeted downward.

Briefly the siblings considered if it was a trick, but they knew Kia wouldn't try to cheat, so they both dashed from their hiding places just in time to see Kianna smash the side of her head off of a boulder as she fell into the churning waters of the lake.

To his credit, Alexander reacted immediately. He ran forward and dived into the lake, fighting with the relatively weak current as he struggled to pull Kia out. When he finally managed to tow her to shore, she was barely conscious. She had lost a lot of blood, and her breathing was labored by the water she had inhaled before Alexander rescued her. She could hear her friends voices, but fuzzily, as if at a distance.

"You have to do it..." Alexander's voice broke through the haze urgently.

"I don't know if I can... Haven't had much practice." Lenna's nervous reply.

"...have to... She might die..."

"She might die..."

The words weighed heavily on them all. Even Kianna, who could barely comprehend anything, could comprehend the devastating message those words conveyed. She was going to die. Unless Lenna did whatever it was Alexander was trying to convince her to do, she was dead. Gone forever, lost without a trace...

She heard Lenna take a deep breath, and then she could see hazily through slitted eyes a soft blue glow appear. The glow intensified and the pain in her head disappeared. The process repeated and the pressure removed it's self from her lungs. Kianna could breath easily again. She opened her eyes and sat up unsteadily, looking carefully between Alexander and Lenna. "What? How?... Magic. Len, did you use magic?" There were very few in the kingdom with that capability.

Lenna nodded slightly, looking nervous. "Ya. I did. I'm getting pretty good with healing magic."

Alex took a deep breath before coming clean. "Kia, we're Nightlocks."

Kianna gasped in surprise. The Nightlocks were one of the most powerful families in the kingdom. They weren't technically nobles, but they had about as much power and influence. People with the ability to use magic were scattered all over the world, but the Nightlocks had the highest concentration of magic in their blood ever recorded throughout history. "Wow..."

"Ya..." Lenna looked to the ground, once again worried her best friend would turn away. A lot of the other children didn't want to get involved with them. The Nightlock name had a lot of influence, and young magic users were reportedly unpredictable. Sometimes they had difficulty controlling their powers which could lead to dangerous situations for all involved.

"My real name's not Kia," Kianna blurted before she could really think about it. Her friends had trusted her with their secret, and she thought it was only fair that she did the same. Their heads whipped in Kianna's direction quickly, shock and curiosity evident in their expressions. "Well, it is. But I never went by it before I met you. It's just... My full name is Kianna."

Alexander caught on to the implication first, being the oldest and therefore being a little more politically aware. "Kianna as in... ?"

"Princess Kianna," She said, answering the unfinished question that hung in the air, affirming Alex's suspicions.

For a while they all sat there staring at each other, the air heavy with a contemplative silence that belayed the young age of the clearing's occupants. Slowly, almost hesitantly, someone chuckled. No one was sure who started it, but soon they were all laughing as hard as they could. Suddenly the months of worrying and carefully keeping secrets from each other seemed ridiculous. Absolutely hysterical. Who their families were didn't matter. They were still just Alex, Lenna, and Kia. Best friends. And to them, nothing else mattered.

Kianna smiled softly to herself. From that point on things had been perfect. That day Alexander and Lenna brought Kianna back to their house for the first time. Their mother had been shocked to see that the Kia her children talked about so fondly was actually Princess Kianna, but she took it in stride. They had brought her over to make sure Lenna didn't make any mistakes in her magic that would prove detrimental to Kianna in the long run, and their mother was glad to do the job. As it turned out, Lenna had executed the spell perfectly. Everyone was beaming with pride for her, and Lenna herself couldn't keep the grin off of her face. Not long after that, Alex and Lenna slept over the castle with Kianna. The king himself even spent some time playing with them, glad to see his daughter with some real friends.

"What are you thinking about, Kia," Lenna asked, pulling her friend out of her thoughts.

"Just remembering," Kianna replied, and Lenna smiled at her knowingly. "Ready to head back?"

"Sure."

The partners, best friends, and sisters walked next to each other to the edge of the woods overlooking the giant hole in the ground that held the kingdom. From here they could see everything from the castle in the center to their quiet spot in the clearing in the exceptionally small forest. They smiled at each other one last time before heading down the large hidden staircase side by side.

The Asylum

Continuation of 5502338491211465810223849455568101000234818679.

I wake up, I think. Everything is so fuzzy, I could still be dreaming. I can sort of make out shapes and lights, but not quite. I hear something, a murmuring. Maybe a voice? I can not tell. I think I feel a prick, and I drift back down into the deeper layers of sleep, barely having time to wonder if I was ever conscious at all.

***

The next time I wake up I am far more coherent. Everything is still fuzzy, and my head hurts, but this time I have the sense to wonder where I am rather than if I am. The voices I hear around me are still difficult to make out, but this time I can tell what they are saying. Still, it sounds as if I am hearing them from underwater. It is the same sensation.

 

"They used a lot on this one," one of the voices says. "They would normally be fine by now."

 

"She just stayed standing. Strong mind. Even stronger than most that we get in here."

 

The first voice speaks again with an air of authority. "Keep an eye on this one. I don't like the way this sounds."

 

Another sharp prick, and once again I spiral towards unconsciousness, wondering what this could possibly mean.

 

***

 

This time I am completely aware when I wake up. My head only feels slightly fuzzy in the beginning and it is easy to make out my surroundings. Every noise from nearby rooms and corridors sound just as loudly as they ever had before this ordeal. I move to get up, only to find that I can not. I look down and see the thick brown leather straps securing me to the thin bed.

 

I begin to panic internally. This is not something we are ever prepared for. Things like this are not supposed to happen in our world. Numbers are insignificant beings, never being noticed enough in the first place to be taken by anyone. We just drift through the same scripted life until we turn eighteen. Oddly enough, this thought calms me. That was a mold I had never fit. And that must be why I am here. There was never any talk of what happened to numbers who deviated, simply because none of us ever talked. But there has to be something, and I must be finding out just what that is.

 

With that thought in mind, I begin further examining my surroundings. Just a small white room with the white bed I'm laying on and a silver tray holding a small hypodermic needle. That must have been the prick that continuously sent me under. The door is right across from me, bared, appearing to lead into an equally stark white hallway. I enter analytical mode and everything around me seems to automatically graph itself nearly instantaneously. I have no clue if this is normal for someone with my gift or not. We never were allowed to talk. I have no clue what others with math affinities can do.

 

Everything is measured out perfectly. I know that the table is exactly ten feet away from me and the door is precisely twenty and three quarters feet away. I can see the angles and measures of every corner in the room. I know that the straps holding me down would be about five feet each at their full length and that they are all half an inch thick. Too thick for me to break on my own.

 

Before I can formulate any kind of coherent plan The door opens revealing a tall woman with bluish-black hair held up in a tight bun and dark blue eyes wearing black rectangular glasses. She walks in slowly and takes out a pen, positioning it over the clip board. "Number... 5502338491211465810223849455568101000234818679. Can you tell me why you're here?"

I am unsure how to answer. I am a Number. She is clearly a Person. I want to demand that she tell me where here is, but a move that rash could not be met kindly. "No."

"You," she began, holding a superior tone that somehow went above and beyond the usual air of superiority that People have, "are here because you refused to follow the rules. You have a math affinity, yet there are paintings and drawings all throughout your room. You feel. You hold skepticism. This is unacceptable." Shock overtakes me. How could she know any of this? I never told my parents any of this. I never showed them my artwork. I never let anyone in on what was going on in my head... "It doesn't matter what you tell us. We know all. The word of a Person is absolute. You will learn this. Welcome to The Asylum."

 



 









The Assasin

A full moon rose, illuminating a large clearing at the center of a dense forest. The wind blew, rustling the grass and leaves, adding to the eerily quiet atmosphere.

Even the bright moon wasn't enough to reveal the still figure perched carefully on a thick branch of one of the trees overlooking the meadow. Her caramel-colored eyes narrowed behind the small slits in her plain white mask as she contemplated what was to come.

Mentally prepared, she slipped soundlessly from her place in the tree. She ran through the meadow completely undetectable, seemingly becoming the night.

Without making the smallest noise that may attract attention, she slid the door to the small but elegant house on the far side of the meadow open. Walking on air, she crept through the house, finding her target sleeping peacefully in bed. She drew her swords, made only of the finest black metal to be as invisible as their wielder, as she stood over his bed.

He awoke to the feeling of cold metal pressed against his throat. His eyes flew open, immediately reflecting his panic. The feeling increased when he took in his surroundings. The midnight black swords pressed against his neck attached to arms covered in black fabric, over an equally hidden neck and up to a ghostly white mask in place of a face. The violet in her jet black bun told him for sure; the king had sent his best assassin.

"Please... Please!" The desperate begging fell on deaf ears. Mercilessly, she sliced two gaping holes in his neck and watched as his life bled out of him.

After wiping the blood off her swords she sheathed them and disappeared out the door, once again blending into the night.

5502338491211465810223849455568101000234818679

I am number 5502338491211465810223849455568101000234818679. I have not earned a name or the right to be a Person yet. Not everyone makes it. You get a chance to try when you turn eighteen, and if you are talented you get to pick a name out.

Karen Elizabeth. Ren for short. I am determined to earn that name one day. No one can know that, though. I am a number. Numbers are not allowed to feel anything unless they get promoted to People. Only People are allowed to feel or have any interests. Numbers just go about their days doing what people tell them to do.

We are not allowed to dislike anything People tell us to do. This is essentially a useless rule. Numbers are not allowed to feel anything or have any opinions anyway. No one would dislike anything. It would not be possible. People would rather be cautious, though. They want to be sure there are no loopholes to manipulate so they can keep us numbers under control.

Each number is tested by People at an early age to see what they have an affinity for. That is the only thing we are allowed to like; the one thing we must like. I do not, though. My affinity is for math. I dislike math, but its structure and predictability make it easy. To my knowledge no other number has ever disliked their affinity. Whether that is due to the fact that we are only allowed to like it, or that People drill into our heads that our affinity is our only chance at ever becoming a Person I do not know.

Yet another crime I am secretly guilty of. I do not believe the People who told us that. Everything People tell us is supposed to be absolute and go unquestioned. That statement in itself is inconceivable. People are allowed to have opinions and constantly contradict each other.

The bell rings, making me realize I zoned out all of math class, but that is alright. Math is my affinity. I will not have any trouble.

As I stand I feel a rush of dizziness to my head and I grab a chair to steady myself. I say nothing though. It is not my place to do so. Instead, I gather myself and walk towards my art class.

That thought alone has me fighting the illegal smile that threatens to spread across my face. Drawing and painting may not be considered my affinity, but it is what I love. At school we can not draw or paint anything creative or original. Everyone has to make the same copy-paste picture of whatever object it is the teacher decides on.

Creative thought is forbidden at home as well, but that is yet another rule I ignore. I lock myself in my room for hours on end, sketching and drawing and painting. All original and expressive. All projecting the darkness and oppression People place on numbers every day, even if I am the only one who can actually feel it.

I take my seat in art and pull out my pastels to begin outlining my copy of the picture of a tree hanging at the front of the room. All numbers with art affinities were done days ago, all cookie-cutter copies. When it is finished, mine will be unique. Generally unique is frowned upon in numbers, but it will be taken as a lack of skill seeing as art is not my affinity.

Another, more intense wave of dizziness hits me as I put the pastel down. I clutch my head and wait for it to pass. When it finally does, I pull out my paint set to color in the lines.

That does not last long. I smear a long thick line of brown paint across my work as I fall to the floor, completely incapacitated by the blinding dizziness.

I hear my teacher pick up the phone. "It's done. Be careful with that one. That's the largest dose I've ever had to give any number." The other numbers around me just continue to work as if nothing is going on as my grip on consciousness slips away.

Outlaws of Love (inspired by Adam Lambert's song Outlaws of Love)

This story is dedicate to my big sisters, Kathleen and Tabetha. 

His heart was racing. All he could think was, What if they find out?

When he came out to his Catholic parents a year ago, it was with a less-than-stellar outcome. His parents were furious. His mother wouldn't stop crying. His little sister seemed to have pity. She'd glance at him, and talk to him, but it was never quite the same. She was afraid of what would happen if it seemed like she took his side. His father had barely said a word to him for a month. He heard his father's voice in his head, more taunting than heartfelt now. You can tell us anything, son. We'll always love you. What a pathetic lie that had been. 

The sound of a pebble hitting his window pulled him from his thoughts. His boyfriend was there.

He took one last look at the room he grew up in and tears filled his eyes. The bad memories were more sharp and recent, but there were a lot of good memories too. Sitting on the floor teaching his baby sister to color inside the lines; his mother tucking him in at night; his father helping him with homework. But that was back when they still loved him.

Moment of hesitation over, he opened his window to see his boyfriend standing on the lawn waiting for him. He lowered himself from his windowsill and closed his eyes before letting go to land in the bushes outside his house.

He stood and walked over to his boyfriend to be enveloped in a pair of warm arms. The first tears started to fall as he clung to the one who had gotten him this far. "Ryan, I'm scared."

Ryan pulled his boyfriend away from his chest slightly to wipe away the tears and kiss him gently. "Shh... It's okay, Dev. We'll be okay."

They walked to Ryan's car in silence. The two of them had been planning on running away for months. Dev  had lost the people he cared about, and Ryan never had anyone to care about before he met Dev having been raised in foster care.

Ryan opened the passenger door for Dev and got to the driver's side. As they drove farther away the nervousness started to turn to excitement. There were plenty of flaws in their plan. Neither of them had any clue where they could go. Since Dev was sixteen and Ryan was eighteen, if they were caught Ryan could be charged with kidnapping, but neither of them cared. They would run forever as long as they could keep holding on to each other.

Dev squeezed Ryan's hand and grinned at him. "We made it!" Ryan grinned back, but Dev's features contoured into terror. All he could think as the speeding truck came barreling towards them was What if they were right?

Screeching of metal was the last thing they heard. Sparks flew in every direction as Ryan's beat up old car was embedded in the truck.

By the time their eyes opened the paramedics were there. Hand in hand, the couple drifted closer to their cold, unmoving bodies. It didn't take long for them to be declared dead.

"NO!!!" Dev dove towards his body. He wasn't ready to die. He was only sixteen. He couldn't go to Hell yet. Everything his parents ever told him said he was doomed to eternal damnation. When he fell through his body instead of into it, tears started cascading down his face at an uncontrollable rate, and he couldn't stop sobbing.

Ryan hoisted Dev up lovingly and just held him as the ambulance took their mangled bodies away. "Shh... It's alright, sweetheart."

"Oh, God. Oh, God. What if they were right?" He closed his eyes and hid his face in Ryan's chest.

"Open your eyes." The gentle command barely registered with Dev. "Sweetheart, open your eyes."

Dev did, and looked in the direction Ryan nodded in. An awe-inspiring ethereal light was in front of them. Two glowing figures with magnificent, white-feathered wings and shimmering silver halos stepped out and beckoned the pair forward. 

Ryan started walking towards the light, pulling Dev with him. As they walked through, the knowledge of a thousand generations seemed obvious. Everything suddenly made sense. They were enveloped in warmth and love, and they knew Dev was right. They finally made it.

Tanya shoved me against the wall. I fell, spilling the contents of my backpack in the process. With her two mindless minions, Tina and Taylor, flanking her there was no hope of escape.

Tanya flipped her multiple black braids. It wasn't really necessary, seeing as she was using a black bandanna as a headband. I guess she was going for some sort of intimidation factor, but the glare she was sending my way with her cold brown eyes took care of that.

At this point I was sure my situation couldn't get any worse. I thought far too soon.

Storm, the new girl, was stalking towards us. I knew it was her. Waist length white hair streaked with red; cold, calculating emerald eyes; and her signature leather jacket rolled up to the elbows. Everyone said she was even meaner than Tanya. Really cold-hearted. I was positive things were about to get much worse.

I was surprised when she positioned herself between me and my tormentors. Storm reached arm behind her back to help me up and glanced quickly in my direction. "You okay?"

Her voice was so cold and uncaring for a minute I wasn't sure she was actually asking. Another quick, vaguely annoyed glance in my direction told me that she was, and I quickly stuttered out a response. "I-I'm fine."

I took her hand and she hoisted me up. I started picking up my stuff, and she turned her attention to Tanya, who seemed to be an odd combination of nervous, probably from Storms reputation, and put out from being ignored for so long. "I don't want to see you bugging her again. Got it?" It wasn't a question.

Tanya quickly straightened up and crossed her denim clad arms over her chest. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

Storm glared, and I could swear Tanya actually flinched. Tina and Taylor were clearly nervous. They already started backing off. "I don't think. I know."

She literally pushed through the middle of the crowd. After a second's hesitation, I darted after her.

When we rounded the corner Storm turned around abruptly. I walked into her and started to fall again, but she caught me before I could. "What's your name?"

"Evangaline."  I didn't waste any time in answering this time. The initial shock had started to wear off. Impulsively, I asked a question of my own. "Why did you help me?"

Storm ignored it completely, and I was fairly certain I wasn't getting an answer. "Why'd they decide to bother you, anyway?"

I decided to answer her question despite her ignoring mine. She had just saved me, and it was kind of nice, someone other than my brother caring. "My older brother is gay." I hesitated for a minute to see if she would react negatively, but her face remained impassive. "Tanya and her boyfriend were talking about him. They called him a stupid fag, and they said he only pretended to be gay to get attention. I stood up for him and told them they didn't know what they were talking about. Tanya and her friends haven't left me alone since."

Storm frowned slightly, and I wasn't sure, but I thought she looked kind of... angry. "Let me know if they bother you again."

"O-okay." She started walking off, I guess towards her next class. I just stood in the hallway for a minute, stunned, before heading to my own class.

I'm not sure, but I think I just made a friend. 

This story was a bit out of my comfort zone. I wrote it while I was at a creative writing workshop at UNH over the summer. I don't typically write romance, but the girl I was sitting with played a romantic song and this popped into my head. Everyone thought it was really great though, so I figured I'd share it with you all.

The waves crashed against the shore with a slow gentle violence, washing away footprints, demolishing sandcastles, pulling forgotten odds and ends into the endless undiscovered depths of the ocean. Traces of people, some of which feel just as forgotten.

One forgotten woman remains standing on the cooling sand, watching as the sun sets and gives way to stunning shades of orange and gold, before eventually succumbing to the full moon  reflected in places deeper out where the waves aren't breaking themselves against the shore, finally done holding themselves together.

Her equally broken sobs are nearly drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, slowly wearing down their resolve. Her blond hair falls down around her face in waves, concealing the thick tears that stream down her face.

Suddenly she's not alone anymore. He always was quiet. He pulls her to his chest and lets her cry. He shushes her gently and strokes her hair.

She looks up at him, emerald eyes only a bit watery now, and he gives her a small smile, love radiating from his deep blue eyes. His forehead drops down to hers, black hair mixing with golden. Her arms leave her own torso and wrap around his, because she knows she doesn't need to hold herself together any more. He will.

Together, they ease into the sand, her in his lap. They watch as the waves calm, rolling gently onto the shore, and the sun peaks once again.