Smiling at him seemed wrong in the moment, but I did. Sitting together, awaiting our impending doom, we watched each other with the symbol of joy on our faces. My hairy, greasy from the lack of a shower, flopped into my face as a soldier shoved the back of my head, pushing me so far down I was kissing the ground. It wasn't meant to end like this, but when destiny and secrets collide, bad things happen. I could hear the crowd from where I knelt, their murmurings like gnats in summer. I could hear my mother weeping from the sidelines, and from my position, I could see my partner's family watching with stony faces. They never liked me much, his family. They knew that getting involved with me would only help their son to an early grave. I can't say that I tried to push him away, but I could say that I tried to keep it from him. I tried to keep it all from him. 

And I failed.

The ground rumbled as the executioner's cart was rolled onto the stage, heavy chains rattling. I could hear the soft shing on the axe being pulled from it's slot on the cart. Some part of me was mad I didn't get to look Death in the eye, but my other half was happier not seeing my fate. Executioners were the most morbid looking things. They didn't look entirely human, and I suppose that would be because they weren't. They were dead, after all. A pile of walking bones, covered in crimson tattoos to hide the blood on their faces. At least, what was left of their faces. It was a messy business after all. 

One I would unfortunately be a part of.

Executioners, funnily enough, had been executed. Any who are executed are destined to follow in their footsteps. It's only a matter of time before you meet your necromancer and come back to sentence others to the same fate as you. I turned my head a little so I could look at my partner out of the corner of my eye. Noah's death was on my hands. If I hadn't been so careless, he would have lived to see another day, and to meet another woman. He deserved better. He deserved the best. 

I should have kept my secret.

I knew it was risky to hold so much in my possession. I knew it was a terrible idea to take a spouse when I was holding the destiny of an empire in my fingertips. Mounds upon mounds of evidence had all been burned last night, and they forced me to watch. That was when the last of my hope was extinguished. But they could never steal the words from my lips. The thought made me smile. I would still know the truth, even after I was dead. 

I would still hold something over the monarchy.

Noah's hand crept across the stage, reaching for me. I met him halfway, squeezing his hand as if the world depended on it. It might. The slow clicks of Death's iron-clad feet stepped between me and my significant other, his axe being dragged behind him. I always knew the axe was insanely big, but I never realized exactly how big until I was look directly at it. The blade had to be the size of a large dog, and there was one on each side. It was made of diamond and of platinum, amethyst encrusting the handle. 

It will be painful, Naomi, Death said. He didn't actually have a voice, so he talked telepathically. The sensation was horrible. An awful tingling up my spine and a heavy pressure in my head. The sound was hoarse, and deep. 

"As if I didn't know!" I laughed, keeping my brow pressed against the ground. "Of course it will be painful. An axe will be bearing down on me." 

"You best learn to keep your mouth shut, Naomi," he said coolly. "You will have to one day." Turning towards our audience, the Executioner raised his axe before swinging it down with a loud clunk. 

Projecting to everyone, Death said, "We join together this morning to witness the execution of Naomi Benedict and Noah Benedict for treason. Let this be a lesson to you all that the crown cannot, and will not be stopped. Learn your place and stick to it. Now," he turned to us, tugging on a heavy chain. His bony fingers wrapped around the hilt of his weapon, each one producing a clack that seemed to echo in my mind. "Which of you goes first?"

"Me," I said immediately. "I go first."

"Wrong." If Death could smile, he would have in that moment. He raised his axe and a scream ripped from my throat as the blade tore through Noah. My eyes watered as my lover's body went still beside me, his hand becoming relaxed in mine. I didn't even have a face to stare at, as his head had rolled across the stage. I slumped against the ground, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. "This is what people like you get. Suffering. Pain before death."

I summed up all I had left in me and spit on his feet, glaring up at him. I used the back of my shackled hand to wipe the rest of the spit from my face. "What did you do? Every executioner has been executed. I know for a fact you're not an exception to the rule."

"It doesn't matter what I did," Death said, his laugh resonating in my head. 

"Just enlighten me. If it doesn't matter, it shouldn't bother you."

He stared down at me for a moment, raising his axe and resting it on his shoulder. "If you must know, it was attempted regicide." I watched him coolly for a moment before cracking a smile. It felt wonky on my face, but it felt good to smile.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You have no idea what I'm sentencing you to." 

I pressed my nose against the ground, readying myself. "I was doomed from the moment I was born."

And then there was nothing. Absolute nothing. Nothing but two broken people on a stage. Nothing but a crowd blanketed in sorrowful silence. Nothing but the shing of an axe as Death walked away.

I supposed my secret would never get told. Not that my secret could mean much when I was dead. After all, a princess can't rule from the grave, can she?

7. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Of course, no Harry Potter book can ever be bad, but Chamber of Secrets is perhaps the least beloved. The book is just as slim in volume as its predecessor and it follows the same strict solve-the-mystery plotline, leaving little room for emotional layering or depth. And while this makes sense––Harry is still twelve, and through his eyes the world is still two-dimensional––readers are not yet set up to believe that Harry’s story will be the Bildungsroman journey that it is. With the exception of the introduction of the first Horcrux, Chamber also gives readers the least amount of plot information for later books, making it the least necessary volume for the greater plot arc––there are no new important character introductions, and the story of Slytherin’s monster ceases to become important at the end of the book. What is most promising about Chamber of Secrets is its glimpse into Ginny’s mental struggle with possession. Unfortunately, almost every character in the entire series is given a satisfactory arc except for Ginny. For a story so based on characters, it’s incredible to me that Ginny’s struggle wasn’t explored further. Oh well.

6. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Goblet of Fire is the trickiest of the Harry Potter books. It bridges the gap between the concise, plot-driven mysteries of the first three books and the lengthy, character-based depth of the last three. The transition is successful, but it’s sticky. As Harry is now fourteen, it makes sense that the books are getting longer; but unlike Order of the Phoenix, where the long length is natural, Goblet attempts to mash an extra chapter wherever it can to prove that the age difference is significant. For example, is it really necessary to have an entire chapter in which Harry moans about his scar hurting and imagines Dumbledore at the beach rubbing sun-tan lotion onto his nose, as we see in “The Scar”? In addition to this struggle with length, there is a palpable conflict with focus. The book contains a rigid plot arc in the form of the Triwizard Tournament, a structure reminiscent of the last three books; but there is also some personal drama with friendship and romance, and increased scenes in which Harry, Ron, and Hermione hang around in the common room talking, like we see in later installments. The book feels as though J.K. Rowling is arguing with herself––plot or character depth? A lot of this stickiness is probably due to the deadline that Rowling had for writing it. I don’t envy attempting to write a 736-page novel in one year. In the end, though, the book succeeds in its mission. By the time Order of the Phoenix rolls around, we’re prepared from its preamble.

5. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

Who could ever dislike the first book? It’s the perfect opener, the one that started it all. What’s most wonderful about Sorcerer’s Stone is the sheer magic of the world, introduced to readers and to Harry for the first time. And with this adrenaline rush of wands, owls, moving staircases, spells, ghosts, goblins, baby dragons, pictures that talk, and invisibility cloaks come tender, introspective looks into Harry’s past, such as the iconic scene in front of the Mirror of Erised. What’s also lovely about Stone is that Harry is so young and so wide-eyed. He’s also so bratty, always sticking his nose into other people’s business with his small posse of best friends. The reason that Sorcerer’s Stone isn’t ranked higher on this list is because all of the other books are so good, and also because, as the opener, it feels untouchable and un-rankable. As a short mystery, it doesn’t compare to the later longer books, but it’s impossible to rank down the book that made every eleven-year-old yearn for a Hogwarts letter.

4. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Prisoner of Azkaban acts as a signal––Greater Plot Arc Taking Shape Now. Rather than a traditional happy ending in which each plot is resolved, each mystery is answered, and Voldemort is thwarted yet again, Prisoner remains open, with Peter Pettigrew escaping at the end of the novel. It resolves differently as Harry discovers his first-ever parent figure in Sirius; and despite the uncertainty, this ending leaves readers with far bigger smiles on their faces. Prisoner takes the necessary step of trading safety and structure for heart and emotion. Its plot alone foreshadows the shift of focus in the next books. The book cements itself as the obvious best of the first three. Many critics have labelled the novel as J.K. Rowling’s finest achievement, but the book has never struck as perfect a chord with me. This might be because the Prisoner of Azkaban film is the only Harry Potter movie worth watching; Alfonso Cuaron’s direction nearly matches the original book in quality. While having an excellent movie adaptation would normally be considered a bonus, the film has always overshadowed my opinion of the book; it’s hard to think of the events of the novel without thinking of the cinematic version. Maybe we should count ourselves lucky that the rest of the Harry Potter movies are so bad.

3. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

After the angst and confusion of the fifth novel, Half-Blood Prince finds the cast of Harry Potter ready to reconnect. Prince is best characterized by finding heart in dark times: despite the now-obvious return of Voldemort, much of the book revolves around romance drama, as Harry and Ginny as well as Ron and Hermione develop relationships. At points, it’s hard to see the darker side of Prince: Harry’s determination to prove that Malfoy is a Death Eater looks less like a warning sign and more like a throwback to Sorcerer’s Stone-level nosiness. And yet, as readers watch Ron swallow love potion and Harry become teacher’s pet in Potions class, they are learning crucial information about the steps to Voldemort’s demise, necessary setup for the next installment. It’s a brilliantly funny book, a fan favorite that nevertheless induces sobs as Dumbledore dies and the beloved, mysterious friend Harry has treasured all year turns out to be his murderer.

2. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

It is incredible that Deathly Hallows is as short as it is. What with learning in the last book that, in order to be defeated, Voldemort would have to be thwarted five times (six, counting Harry as a Horcrux), that a pain-inducing attempt to count for one of those times ended up entirely in vain, and that the trusted leader who can help with this impossible task is now irretrievably dead, it would not have been surprising if Hallows were another seven-part series of its own, spanning several years in length. It’s a miracle of a book––not even the longest in the series, and yet nothing feels abbreviated or skipped over. It is the masterful finale that everyone was hoping it would be. Unlike the other books, which could more or less be described as “Life at Hogwarts: Volumes 1-6,” Hallows is an epic adventure force that takes readers all over the Wizarding World, while still maintaining humor and heart. The chapters “The Prince’s Tale,” “The Forest Again,” and “King’s Cross” remain some of the most masterful, tear-jerking moments in the saga. Deathly Hallows draws an excellent close to the greater arc, and to the arcs of all of the series’s characters. Even the controversial epilogue was satisfying, if you disregard the era of Pottermore to which it led.

1. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Order of the Phoenix is the richest, lengthiest, and darkest of the Harry Potter series. It’s divisive among fans, with some readers describing it as too long and boring, but I find the length enjoyable. The 900 pages chronicle life at Hogwarts and character-based drama, the elements that make Harry Potter feel so much like home. Order has so many layers––after having read parts of it every day for almost seven years, I can still find new things to think about. Order is also, without a doubt, the most pivotal moment in the series. It marks an all-time low for Harry and his world, and the conflict turns in on itself, shifting from the rigid Good vs. Evil theme of the first four books to Aware vs. Ignorant. The struggle with ignorant and unjust government in this book feels even more relevant than the themes of goodness. I realized the other day that living in a global pandemic which is being undermined and ignored by Donald Trump feels just like living in Harry’s world during the return of Voldemort which was being ignored by Cornelius Fudge. Order of the Phoenix is a dark, twisting brick of a novel, the richest and most complex point in the series, and for this reason, it is ranked first. It defines the Harry Potter Bildungsroman and asks important questions about the society we live in.

no, you are never enough. and all those "i love you"s

were phrases in the form of coins (you were the only rich

a man never wants to be), constantly you throw them into your

wannabe lover's well of romantic fantasies; but this wish,

will never come true for you because you are not enough,

nor you never will be. so even though you just wanted to be

a person someone takes their earbuds out (because they

actually care what you have to say instead of nodding), that

doesn't mean you ever will be. because you do not get to feel

the beauty after a waxing, you are nothing but the wax that burns the

person-you-pine-for's skin; they're screaming at you 'cause you

are not nor will ever be worth the pain to them. and yes,

you are the definition of agony and loving you would be a

monstrosity, because if you mean nothing one to anyone then,

why would they dare to love and care for you? no, you are not

enough to be loved and you never will be. so throw away

that weed (just as they did with you) you're using to count hopes

with because the answer is clear, right here: no, they love you not.

and take your tears and collect them in a dirtied jar (do not waste

the clean ones); pour it into the lake off the highway; pluck out

your heart; carve it into a million pieces; then drop the damn thing

in after it. since no one will ever love you, why hold such an organ

that simply wastes space? so no, you weren't enough. you are not enough.

you will never be enough.

even as i look down at your casket

being lowered into the damp earth

that cascades over where you rest

i can still feel you here with me

the air is frigid and crisp

tearing the breath from my lungs

but it's almost like

you're standing right next to me

if i were to gaze up at the stars

freckling across the vast sky

i would swear that one of them

could maybe be you

and as they shed their light

illuminating the forlorn burial

my salvation is the words

that died upon your lips

who said this is goodbye?

-CALLI-

I shut my locker with a slam. I didn’t intend for any of this to happen. Now things weren’t as smooth, or secure as I thought they would be. Ever since Maven showed up, I hadn’t been able to keep anything to myself. Sometimes I didn’t even have to say anything and he’d just know.

Now, he’d forced himself to walk me home, and take me back to his place. I tried to tell him no, but something inside me was screaming yes the whole time. I guess I really needed a break from my real-world problems. Even my every action had been thrown off balance.

Not to mention Brenda calling me a friend. I didn’t know how I felt about it. I never wanted people to be my friends. After all, look what Maven saw when he got me to open up a little. I rub my forehead as I walk down the hallway. Maybe I needed to start talking. But even then, it would be more lies. Lies to cover up my silence.

Everyone in the school knew I existed. So why not give them some gossip about me?

I picked up the pace towards the front doors. I wanted to get away before Maven could follow me. I knew he would. He would follow me no matter where I went. Something about him would suck any unsuspecting person in. He was just that way. From what I could tell, he loved to help people. At the same time, he loved answers. Maven was the type of guy who’d buy the newspaper and read it every morning, just so he could spout off facts about the world.

I bolted out of the doors, shoving past students so I could escape. However, I froze when he called my name. In fact, everyone froze when he did.

“Oh Calli!” he sang. I stiffened my spine. I Iooked at the person in front of me. Her dark eyes met the eyes of the boy behind me. I swear she was swooning. Swooning at the one guy I did not want to see. Or hear for that matter.

My fingers twitched. Though it was minute, Maven saw it. “I’d rather not be punched in the face right now,” he squeaked. Clenching my hands into fists, I start walking again. “What? No sorry? No, “Hello Maven”? No words of any kind?”

“Thought you didn’t want to get punched in the face, Boy,” I growled.

One of the guys near me shouted. The one word I most dreaded. The one word I despised. “Fight!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

I whipped my head in the direction of the guy who called out. He had a smirk on his face. He was one of the athletes I saw in the morning. From what I knew, he was the team captain. The victor of the track. “What did you say?”

His smirk turned into a grin. Not a happy one either. It was the kind my father would use every night. The one that was to be considered psychotic and purely evil. I strode up to him, extending my neck so I was at maximum height. I still was short though. Kids parted so I could stand in front of him. His ginger locks had black roots. Unlike Maven’s floppy hair, his was gelled out of his face. He was all popular. Saying and doing things to gather fame into his clutches.

“What did you say Victor?” I seethed.

“I said, “Fight.”” Victor said, the grin still plastered to his face. Just like Daddy’s. I felt my insides churn at my Father’s title.

“If you want a fight, go find Nolan,” I retorted vehemently.

“You know,” he said, tapping his chin with a finger. “This is the first time you’ve ever said anything to a student besides the delinquents.”

I felt someone tug on my arm. Maven was by my side now. I would have thought he’d be smarter, but I guess I shouldn’t put it past him. After all, he followed me into the ladies restroom. “Leave her alone, dude.”

Victor snorted, scanning over Maven’s broad frame. “Who are you?”

Maven squinted at Victor. His muscles tensed as if he were ready to spring. “Why is that of any concern to you?”

“Because no one messes with us, Boy.”

“I’m that kid now, am I?” Maven grumbles under his breath. I don’t think it was meant for me, but I acknowledge the fact he said it.

“Let’s just say,” Maven starts. He then pauses, looking over at me. His silver eyes were teasing. Yet, I could only hold my head in my hands. He had an idea. It was not a good idea to let him share his idea. “That I’m her guy.”

I spluttered, “What!”

Victor nor Maven heard me. “She doesn’t have one last I heard.”

Maven smiled and hugged me to his chest. I grunted as he pressed on my back. I hurt a lot. My face was buried in his shirt. I couldn’t talk. He was a lot stronger than he looked. A gentle giant. “Well,” Maven growled. I’d think he was someone else if I couldn’t see him. “You heard wrong.”

I couldn’t see Victor, but I could imagine his grin turning into a frown. “I hear everything, Boy.”

“Stop calling me that!” Maven barks. His heart was pounding. The steady beat of it rang in my ear. It was soothing. I wanted to stay like that forever. I mentally slap myself. I did not want this. I did not need it. Slowly, Maven leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “C’mon Babe. Let’s go.”

I froze again. “What did you call me?”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “First time I’ve called her that…” Maven said, smiling nervously.

“You!” I yell at Maven. I could feel my cheeks inflame. Victor looked at me. Scrutinized me. I felt the urge to puke on him suddenly. Everything was off course from where I wanted to be. I wouldn’t hit the runway. I’d hit the water. “You just!”

Maven wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me away. Everyone had heard. Everyone was gossiping. Soon, the whole school would know. The infamous Calli Jaspers, the ugliest of the bunch, had a boyfriend. I groaned, walking ahead of him. He was becoming a bad habit.

“Why would you say such a thing?” I mutter as we start the ten minute walk to my place.

“Because I was trying to help you out.”

“Do you know how fast words travel around here? Huh. Maybe my name will be in the newspaper tomorrow morning for you to read. “Callina Jaspers. The girl who finally got a life out of the emo world.”

“Your name is Callina?”

“Calli to you and everyone else,” I snapped.

Maven raises his hands, chuckling. I bend down to pick up a rock and chuck it at him.

“Okay! Okay! It’s just a strange name is all I meant.”

“Why do you think I shortened it to Calli? It’s not my fault my parents are completely and utterly messed up.”

“Is that your house?” Maven asked, pointing at a nice sized brick home.

Shaking my head, I continue to pick up the pace to a jog. My bag bounced against my back. It hurt. I didn’t stop running. Maven sped up till he was next to me, his breaths coming out in short gasps. “Do you do this every day?”

“Shut your trap. You’re the one who forced yourself to come with me. Not the other way around.”

He followed my advice, thank goodness. We ran along the side of the road for a good five minutes. That was enough time for me to wrap my head around everything.

Brenda considered me a friend.

Nolan considered me a sister.

Maven called me his girl.

I listened to the steady pounding of my feet on dirt. By tomorrow morning, there would be new information about me going around school. Things that were not necessarily true. I look over at the serene boy next to me. His brown hair flopped over his eyes everytime he landed a foot on the ground. His eyes were troubled. I could tell he was deep in thought.

The wind rushed out of my lungs. What was I doing? Dragging him into this? I stopped. It took Maven a second to realize I was not with him. Halting, he looked at me over his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Don’t worry about me Maven. Worry about yourself.”

Maven frowned at me, deep lines forming around his mouth. “That’s cryptic.”

“Not really,” I tell him. He turned around to face me. His tall frame straightened to full height. Seemed like something I’d do. Except not in this situation. In this situation, I’d run for dear life. “I don’t need another person hurt because of me,” I whisper to him. I’m not sure why I do it. I guess I found comfort in pacific gestures.

The words did little to assuage me, but I still felt like I’d warned him. He stood in front of me, leaning down so he could look me in the eye. He was so close. I could feel his body heat. I’d barely have to lift a finger and I’d be touching him. Barely raise my head and I’d…

I shuddered. Don’t go there. I didn’t have the time to.

“What did you do?” he asked me softly. It was barely even a whisper. This close, and I was still unsure that I heard him correctly.

“I-” How does one respond to a question like this? With the truth? With another lie? Or do people leave that question unanswered?

“I have to go,” I finally tell him, pulling away from him. Immediately, my body wants to go back and curl up against him. Wanted to be in his arms like before. Maven stayed there for a second, before regaining his senses and following me.

“What do you mean you’re going?” he inquired spitefully. “I’m going with you!”

“No you’re not!” I reply. I wouldn’t drag him into my mess. The one mom was so eager to leave. Would not have another reason to hate myself.

“Why not?” Maven asked, grabbing onto my hand.

I whirled on him, smacking his face. “Because not everything in the world is going to be answered for you, Maven. No one else needs to get hurt. Just stay here. I’ll be back in a lifetime.”

Without waiting for an answer, I took off down the road, running over the crest of the hill we were climbing. You could see my house from here. You could see a lot of houses from here. My house was the only run-down place. I sprinted for home. The sooner I got there, and the sooner I left was for the better.

As I approached the oh-so-familiar building. I could feel my body stiffen on it’s own. It was not ready for another road of physical, and emotional torture. I pushed open the creaky door. As always, the house smelled rotten. Right in front of the door was a gaping hole. The floorboards had collapsed. Quietly, I walked into the kitchen. Bottles were strewn everywhere. I could hear the faint sound of snoring from the living room.

I released in a silent breath. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding it. He was asleep. Most likely drunk too. Padding into the living room, I leaned over the couch. Daddy was stretched out. His lips were tinged blue. I had no idea how he wasn’t dead yet. I was oddly thankful he wasn’t. Even in this dump for a house, I was glad he was still hanging around.

Pulling a blanket from under the couch, I draped it over his still body. Leaving him to snore himself sober, I climbed up the stairs. The odors were much worse up here. I had to plug my nose so I didn’t puke. My bedroom door was closed. I didn’t open it. I stared at the chipped off-white paint that coated the thick wood. Turning away from it, I wandered into Daddy’s bedroom. I don’t know why I did it exactly. Something about it was compelling I suppose.

There were multiple buckets strewn across the floor. It was confusing until I saw the trail of blood going into the bathroom. It was dried, crusty beneath my fingers. I knew it was my blood almost instantly. I followed the trail of it to the bathroom door, which was closed. I rested my fingers around the doorknob. I was honestly scared to go inside. The vibes on the other side of the door were odd and nerve-racking. Taking a deep breath, I shook myself mentally. Get yourself together. You wanted to know this. You wanted to know what your blood was used for. Here’s your chance. Use it, use it.

There was a crash downstairs. Glass against tile. I ran out of the room, forgetting entirely about the door. “Who are you!” I heard Daddy yell loud and clear. A steady stream of curses could be heard coming from the kitchen.

Another crash. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t-”

I bolted down the stairs, knowing instantly who the other person was. “Maven Verascue!”

The world went quiet as I finished running down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Daddy was standing in front of Maven, looking small in comparison. However, Maven was the one who cowered away from Daddy, his silver eyes looking between him and I.

“Maven Verascue!” I basically scream at him. I was done putting up with his nonsense. “What are you doing in my house?!”

Daddy was holding his belt in the same way he always did: wrapped around his hand. I sucked in a breath as his cold blue stare turned to me. “You know this boy?”

I ducked my head, feeling tears start to well up. He had been sleeping. Maven messed up my only way to leave. “Yes Daddy,” I say softly. He slapped me hard. My head turned with the force of the impact and my cheek stung where a red mark was left. Possibly another bruise too.

A ghost had even more color than Maven did at that moment. I looked back at him with weary eyes. “You should go,” I murmur.

“H-he just…”

“You do what my daughter tells you to, Boy!” Daddy yelled at Maven. However, Maven didn’t budge. His smooth grey eyes were lost in mine.

“H-he just hi-hit you.”

#thriller #suspense #romance #memories

In my traumatized brain,

acceptance often masquerades as love.

So when Kevin told me

he didn't love me back,

I knew he had only accepted me.

But I loved him.

And I knew that the moment

we were in his car going to Santa Cruz and

we belted out "Old Town Road"

because that was his favorite song.

I told him I love you,

and he dumped me

days later.

But I loved him.

And in his rejection,

I loved him more.

-MAVEN-

I stare at her sitting there. Her hair was covering her gorgeous clear eyes. Her hand was hovering over a rainbow of bruises. 

I was stunned into silence. Every previous thought spaced my mind as I stared at the broken angel in front of me. I could feel my mouth moving in response to Calli’s soft-spoken words, but no sounds were coming out.

“What are you doing, Maven?” she repeated harshly, all cautiousness gone from her silky smooth voice.

I tried to swallow, but my body seemed to have shut down. What do you do in a situation like this? “I-I don’t know,” I whisper hoarsely. Why was I hoarse? I’d barely talked at all today. 

Calli lifted her head a little, her ebony hair falling away from her right eye. It was filled with shock, hate, fear, and other emotions I couldn’t quite place. I didn’t really know why I had followed her in. It was honestly a little embarrassing. I guess I just knew something was off. But I could have been wrong. She could have been going to the bathroom for reals. Suddenly feeling brave, I took another step towards her. 

“What happened to you?” I inquired.

“What do you think happened to me, Maven? Use that useless head of yours to actually think for once.”

Closing the distance, I pulled her sleeve down even further. Not only were there bruises of all colors, but there were scabs covering almost every inch of her shoulder. Frowning, I grabbed the hem of her hoodie and lifted it up so I could see her back. It was in the same condition. Red, blues, yellows, purples, and greys clashed against each other. 

We were both silent as I let go of her. She was watching me out of the corner of her eye, waiting for my reaction.

My first impulse was to yell at her. Tell her that she needed to tell an adult about it. However, my second impulse won over. I hugged her against me. Calli let out a little squeal of surprise, hands spreading out to her sides, unsure what to do with them. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered in her ear.

“Maven,” she grumbled.

“Hm?”

“My back…”

“Oh right!” I exclaimed, releasing her from my hold. I felt heat rise into my cheeks as I blushed. I’d just hugged Calli. I didn’t know whether to pump my fist, or feel bad for causing her pain. I rubbed at the back of my neck, unsure of what to do with myself now that I’d turned into a fool.

“We should head back to class,” she told me brazenly. Hopping off the counter, she shouldered past me. I stayed where I was, but watched her walk away from me. “And Maven?”

“Yes?” I asked nervously.

“We don’t talk about this to anyone.” And then she was gone. 

I couldn’t stop watching her for the rest of the day. Now that I knew there was more of a story behind her face then she let on, I couldn’t take my mind off her wounds. What had caused them? It certainly wasn’t the fall yesterday. 

I frown at the new memory. I knew something was up when all the blood came gushing out of her seemingly broken body. The way she snarled when I asked what to do would stick with me forever. I’d felt angry when I returned with the nurse. Angry that she took off while she was obviously injured. It felt like a metal ball was rolling around in the pit of my stomach. 

Calli didn’t once look over at me. She wouldn’t glance at me in the hallways either. We were now in the last class of the day. I’d consider myself lucky to have her in my classes. It’s not every day you meet a wonder like her. 

Mr. Kendal tapped the board with his ruler. “This is partner work!” he said, animated to the point that he sounded fake as heck. I glance up. I hadn’t been paying any attention to the assignment. I had never been good at History anyway. Didn’t make much of a difference. It was my chance to talk to Calli, however, and I was not going to miss the opportunity. “But if you and your partner can’t cooperate with each other, I’ll be assigning you a permanent one for the rest of the year,” he said sternly. He ran his hand under his bulbous red nose. “Now. Get to work. Due Friday!”

I immediately look over to where Calli is sitting. But she’s blocked by the thin frame of Brenda. She had a small smile on her narrow face. “Hello,” she said cheerfully. “You want to be partners?”

I smiled back at her. “Sorry, but Calli and I are already partners.”

Brenda draws her brows together, looking back at Calli. “That’s a first. She never works with anyone. She talks to us every now and then, but refuses to interact.”

Calli is watching us with shrewd eyes. She knew what I was doing. She wanted no part of it. “Guess I’m just a lucky guy then,” I say. Brenda glances between us for another moment before finding Nolan.

I slid my desk so it was butt-up against Calli’s. “Howdy partner!” I holler. 

Calli’s frosty blue eyes narrow. “I work alone, Maven.”

“Not today you don’t,” I tell her gleefully. “I need some answers.”

She stands. Not in a normal sort of way, but in an ominous kind of way. It’s silent and smooth. All in one motion. I gawk at her gracefulness even as she struggles with the pain inside her. She looms over me. Though she’s small, her aura alone is mysteriously shrouded in the shadows of lies. Her black hair falls over her eyes once again, concealing her behind a mask of secrets. “I work alone, Maven,” she repeats. I was starting to realize that she liked to repeat herself.

“I could tell…” I say loudly. A few look back at us but return to their work when they find Calli’s cold glare.

“Maven Verascue!” she yells at me. “If you want to keep your body intact, I suggest you don’t try to blackmail me.” Now everyone is looking at us.

“What is going on Ms. Jaspers!” Mr. Kendal yells at us. He’s only met with Calli’s severe glare. I didn’t know what he expected her to do. After all, wasn’t it obvious that she was not content?

“We’re just having a friendly argument, Sir,” I tell him, waving a hand dismissively. “She doesn’t agree with how we should go about this.”

She scowls at me but seems grateful that she didn’t have to talk. After all, she’d most likely regret her words later. Mr. Kendal strides over, big hands rubbing at his beady eyes. “How do you think you should go about it?”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We’re doing it her way.”

Mr. Kendal was a little suspicious. Actually, he was really suspicious. However, he got distracted when Nolan cursed. With the teacher’s attention finally the other direction, I returned my attention to Calli. “Looks like we’re officially partners!’ I say cheerfully. 

Calli doesn’t even try to fake enthusiasm. Her reply was dry as the Sahara Desert. “Yay,” she mutters. I grin at her. This would be by far the most interesting group project I had ever worked on. I didn’t even know what the project was about.

“So my place? Or yours?” I asked her.

She once again let her black curtain of hair fall over her eyes. “How about the park?”

I didn’t mean to, but I reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Those icy blue eyes of hers met mine. I forgot to breathe for a second. What was happening to me? Every emotion I experienced around her was a jumbled mess. “Whatever you feel would be best for you,” I told her, still a little breathless. I pull my hand back like it had caught on fire; a quick, sharp motion.

Calli stared at me quizzically for a moment before sighing. “Being in a warm house would be better I suppose. I just don’t want to intrude on your family’s time together,” she relented.

I shook my head.. Sighing, I rub my temples. Mom and Dad were a little nuts sometimes. I loved my parents. Even if they couldn’t figure out their lives, I was glad they were a part of mine. “Does tonight work for you?”

Her frown lines only deepened. “I have to run home first…”

“I’ll go with you!” I said animatedly. 

Calli immediately rejects the idea.  She throws her hands above her head, almost hitting Nolan who is toying with Brenda’s scissors. “No. You know what goes on at home. I’m not taking you into that whole mess.”

“I technically didn’t know it happened at home. Seems like people give you the cold shoulder here. You could have been bullied for all I knew, but thank you for the clarification.”

Her cheeks flushed with a pinkish color. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch up in a sly smile. It was cute. She was cute. I need to get myself together. She’s a hot mess I don’t want to involve myself in.

Oh, but I so badly did. 

“Let me walk you home so that I know you’ll come back to mine with me. After all, if he takes advantage of you, you wouldn’t want to show up. Plus, I’ll be there to prevent it from-”

“Ew! No!” She yelled. Nolan and Brenda looked at her.

“Did you seriously just yell, Calli sweety?” Nolan asked in a sweet voice. He was now toying with the poor girl. Calli’s cheeks grew even brighter. 

“Shut it Nol.”

“Oh, but why would I? My little girl finally came out of her turtle shell.”

“Zip your lips Nolan before you regret the next words out of your mouth.”

Nolan smiles. I compare him next to the cheshire cat, but even the creepiest cat in the world could not beat the look on Nolan’s face. “Why though? I have a pet name now. Nol. I quite like it. Don’t you Brenda honey?”

Calli looked like smoke was coming out of her ears. Her face turned a dark shade of red, and her fists clenched at her sides. Brenda looked a little pink, and a little flustered. I roll my eyes and stand up. I’m taller than Nol. I’m tall and broad shouldered. He was short and thin. From what rumors I’d heard from people in the halls, he was a delinquent. Lived on the streets, and hardly ever went home. 

“I would also think of myself as muscled and handsome.”

Nolan burst out laughing next to me. Poop. Did I say that out loud? “I may be a couple inches shorter than you, but I sure as heck would beat you in a fight,” he told me confidently.

Brenda was hiding her face in her hands. “Good to know, Maven. Good to know. Next time, I’ll call you up when I need a boost in confidence.”

Calli just stared at me, eyes of ice unnerving. “I said Ew. No. He doesn’t do anything like that.”

“Who?” Nolan asks.

“No one!” She and I say simultaneously. She looks surprised. I actually didn’t say anything. I smile at her, trying to keep it knowing. She didn’t trust anyone. Least of all me, I would presume. After all, I held information that she didn’t want shared. 

“That’s suspicious man,” Nolan told us, glancing between us like he was trying to solve an impossible puzzle.

“Just don’t think about it dude.”

“How can I not?!” he said, pointing at me. “You had the same answer, and said it quickly. You’re horrible liars.”

Calli slammed her palm on the desk. “We were talking about the project dang it!” she told him. “Stop putting your pig nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“The project is a person now?” Nolan asked. 

Calli growled beside me. “We were talking about where we were doing our projects. Then we got talking about our parents. And-”

“Say no more!” Nolan said, holding up a finger. His brown eyes are alarmed. “I don’t do parents,” he told me. His eyes were huge. “My Dad is a murderer, and Mom is a drug-lord.”

I felt my eyes widen. I swear it felt like there were no eyelids left after that. “Does everyone have issues here?”

“Mostly just the gang. Well, the big issues at least. Still tryna get dear ol’ Cal to join us though,” he said with another smile that sent shivers down my spine. 

“You know she doesn’t do that kind of crap Nolan,” Brenda said, monotone. “At least I have one sane friend.”

Calli tensed at the word. It was like she’d never used it before. Or never been called that before. I could be wrong on both instances. But I was willing to bet.

The bell rang at that exact moment. “Speaking of perfect timing,” I say, turning to Calli. “I’ll see you at the doors.”

#thriller #suspense #romance #memories

-CALLI-

I slowly climbed the stairs up to the bedrooms. The stench of Daddy’s liquor was stronger up here. It had only been an hour and a half since I left, and he was already drunk. I could tell.

Quickly and quietly, I ran into my bedroom, closing the door behind me softly. As long as Daddy didn’t catch me, I’d head back to school. Heading to the closet, I opened up the small space. The space that I was last found. The place I was last tortured. Shuddering at the recent memory burned into my mind, I pulled out another black hoodie, and a pair of blue jeans. Carrying myself into the bathroom, I shut the door behind me.

How am I going to do this? I asked myself as I stare at the miserable person across from me. The mirror was dirty. Tinted yellow like all the other things in the household from Daddy’s cigars. My face was covered in crusted blood. You could hardly see any of my snow colored skin under all the gore.

Taking a makeup wipe, I rubbed at it until my skin was raw, but I couldn’t get the stickiness of the blood off my skin. The feeling was always there. Tainting me. Making me feel like I was drowning in it. I should be used to the feeling. I’d felt like this for seven years of my life. Almost eight now.

I tossed the wipe into the trash bucket and leaned against the sink, face in my hands. I immediately regret it, however. I put too much pressure on a freshly made bruise, bringing me much pain. I hiss loudly before I could stop myself, and I suddenly hear a loud bang from the hallway. Freezing in place, I shake my head at my stupidity. Daddy knew I was home now. He would beat me for his thoughts.

He wasn’t always like this, I remembered. He was a great father up until Mom left. She broke his heart when he found out she was leaving.

Now he used me, his last reminder of her, to take out his pain. Even though she and I didn’t look that much alike.

He opened the bedroom door. I could tell by the loud sound it made as it rubbed against the carpet. His heavy steps, along with his small limp could be heard approaching the bathroom door. I took one last look in the mirror. The bruises covered my face like bad acne. My cheeks, forehead, and even my nose had them. I wasn’t so pale anymore. Instead, it looked like I was suffocating. Maybe I was.

I turned to look at the door, just as it opened. Daddy’s blue eyes were dark with hatred for Mom and what she did. So I held up my hands and turned around. Just like I’d been taught to do.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I stood once again in front of the mirror. My eyes were slightly red from crying last night, and my tongue was cut after biting down on it for so long. The bruises on my face were not so purple anymore. Some were yellow. The others were blue. A few were even red and black. I looked diseased. Crumpled.

Not only had Daddy hit me with the belt again, but he’d cut my old scars open with a silver knife he used to use for hunting. Gingerly, I touched the new old scabs. He’d cut deep. My back was left looking just as bad as my face.

I felt queasy and light-headed. It had been the most blood drained since the first night it all started. The only thing different though, was that he’d collected my blood in a bucket. He’d never cared enough to clean up after his own mess, so I was curious as to why he took it. What was he doing with it? Maybe he’s selling it to the hospital. I thought to myself. It was possible, but I doubted it. So what was it for?

Pulling out my almost-empty foundation, I applied it. It hid most of it, but I could only cover so much. I squirmed in discomfort. I felt like my whole being was drained of energy. Probably the lack of blood and sleep. I told myself. That was what it was. Right?

Quietly, I exited the bathroom. Walking back over to my small closet, I pulled out a dark purple hoodie. I only ever had dark clothes in my closet. I guess it gave me comfort in knowing it would hide the mess I was.

Slipping it over my head, I pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans. Looking around my room, I spotted sunglasses that could hide my pain-filled eyes. I didn’t know if I was allowed to wear them at school, but it was worth a shot.

Trudging down the stairs, I slid on sneakers and looked for my bag. Realizing I forgot it at school, I shook my head and left. The heavy clouds were still brewing overhead, not yet ready to release their dreaded tears. Once their tears are shed, they die in an instant. I wish I could do that. Maybe it would be so much easier. I thought as I kicked a pebble down the small road.

The air was chilly. Fall was near its end. Soon, winter would take over, and put the world to sleep under its cold white blanket. Soon, the trees would be bare. Dead until spring set in.

I strolled down the road, glancing over my shoulder occasionally, checking for cars. Even though they wouldn’t be able to see behind the fakeness of my face, I still felt conscious of their stares as they drove past me. It was like every fiber of my being protested the awareness of other people.

As I approached the school a little while later, I pulled the hood of my hoodie over my head. All the kids were whispering and glancing my way. As rumors spread, I could only guess what they were talking about. I ducked my head and quickened my pace for the school. This was not good. Not good at all.

Pulling open the doors, I froze. No one seemed to really care that I walked in. I sighed in relief, letting myself relax a little. Though I knew there would be rumors, I still felt insecure.

Opening my locker, I found that my backpack was inside. Alarmed, I quickly pulled it out to see if anything was placed inside or taken out. Nothing seemed out of place, but I shuddered at the thought of someone digging through my locker.

Slinging the straps over my shoulders, I shut my locker again. Turning around, I ran smack dab into the same kid from yesterday. This time, I was careful not to open up my wounds on my ugly back.

“Woah,” he said, reaching out to steady me. “You okay?”

I put my fingers on my temples and nodded. However, that plan backfired because my hood fell off. I panicked, eyes widening, nostrils flaring. The boy’s fingers tightened on my arms.

“You’re the girl from yesterday,” he whispers.

I reach for my hood, pulling it over my head, and shove him out of the way. I speed walk down the hall, trying to escape him. But he follows me. Right at the heel, too.

“What happened yesterday?” He inquired of me. The other students are watching him as he follows me down the hall. This was new. No one came near me. Fearful for their heads.

I see a blockage of students ahead of me. Growling at them as I approached, I let them know to move.

They don’t. Flinging my pack onto the ground, I strut over to them. Their eyes widened. Just MOVE already! I bark in my head. I won’t say it aloud, however. They can’t hear the pain in my voice. Though my back is agonizing, I divide the two sides with my arms. My shoulder blades digging into what little spine I have. It was like Moses parting the Red Sea.

“Why are you following Calli, Maven?” Nolan calls from the crowd of people to my right. He comes out of the side. He never really talked to me. I wasn’t even sure he knew who I was at first. After all, he was one of the baddies. However, I was glad he distracted Maven for long enough that I could slip away.

Mrs. Wittmer’s class was only a couple of doors away. I entered the foreboding door, feet dragging. It wasn’t that I hated Mrs. Wittmer, in fact, I didn’t mind her. It was the fact that it held the most interactions. Plus, I couldn’t put my soul into my writing. I just didn’t have one.

Setting my bag behind my desk, I slouched in my seat. I was one of the first people to class today. I didn’t know how to feel about it. Not even the teacher was in yet. That’s when Nolan walked in.

Then came Maven.

I frowned at Maven. He’d never been in this class before. Nolan shrugged at me. “This is Maven. You disappeared before he showed up for class.”

I furrow a brow at them. “I never knew there was a new kid.”

“Might be because you don’t have media. I mean. Who doesn’t?”

I coughed. “You just said it yourself. I don’t.”

Nolan rolled his eyes. “Besides you. I don’t know why your Dad doesn’t give you a phone. It wouldn’t do any harm.”

It was my turn to shrug. “We can’t afford one. I’m working - I mean, we’re working hard to keep us alive.”

The first lie of the day. I tell myself silently. It’ll only grow from there. It was true. One lie would lead to another.

“Why are you even talking to me, Nolan?” I asked.

“Because, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re one tough chick. The guys consider themselves your big brothers.”

Maven coughed deep in his throat, glancing between us, but letting his eyes finally settle on me. “Am I dead meat?”

“Yes,” I retort. “Now go away. I told you I never wanted to talk to you again.”

Nolan frowned. “So you have met the new kid?”

Sighing, I sink even further into my seat. “I guess so. It wasn’t a very pleasant encounter, but it could count as one.”

Maven shook his head. “I went to fetch the nurse, but when I came back, you were gone.”

Nolan raised a brow in a perfect arch. “Is that so?”

I shook my head. “I’m not your friend guys.” Even though I wish they would be, I would never let it come to that. “Leave me alone, or both your heads will be lost in the morning.”

Nolan burst out laughing. “I think you forgot that I live with criminals Ms. Jaspers.” I suppose it was true. His father was convicted of murder, mother in jail for illegal drug distribution. His older siblings were out and about vandalizing things and getting drunk at late night parties.

The bell rang and more people file into the classroom. “I never forgot. I just think of myself as a better criminal than you,” I grumble under my breath. Nolan took his rightful place in the seat before me, laughing. Maven, however, took the empty seat to my right. Brenda sat to Nolan’s right, giving Maven the doe-green-eyes of heaven.

Mrs. Wittmer entered the room, clapping her hands. “Alright, everyone!” She yelled. “Poetry is our new unit!”

I frowned. I sucked at poetry more than anything else. It required experience and meaning. All the things that I went through, I’d never share or write. Pulling out a piece of paper, I felt ashamed. This could help me. And I wouldn’t have to necessarily share them. I was just too afraid.

Mrs. Wittmer continued her instruction. “I want to see what you know. Write a poem about something you feel deeply about. Whether it has happened to you or not, I don’t care. I just want something powerful.”

I frown. I understood poetry only a little, but it had rhyme and repetition. And lots of big words. I set the tip of my pencil on the blank page. I don’t know big words though. I told myself. So I let my head fly back to the days that I truly thought was the end.

Once there was a girl

But she was alone

Lost in her big world

Dying real slow

Head is rolling on the ground

She’s feeling numb all around

Eyes can’t close

She doesn’t know

Only one left

All alone

All alone

Feeling kinda sick

All alone

All alone

Slowly dying

All alone

All alone

I blink. Reading the words over and over in my head, I cover my mouth with my frail hand. My fingers are cold against my burning cheeks. I run them under my nose subconsciously. I suddenly feel tired. It’s hard to keep my heavy eyelids open. Placing the pencil on the paper once more, I continue my writing.

Can’t bring herself to an end

But can’t stand the pain

Of losing her mind

Losing her brain

No heart left

Freezing cold

She is slipping

Doesn’t have a hold

She’ll fall

All alone

All alone

She’ll scream

All alone

All alone

She’ll die

All alone

All alone

She won’t breathe

She can’t

After the cries of her sorrows

She’ll die alone

Mind is shattering glass

Piercing her being

Better locked away is she

But can’t be contained after seeing

Mouth will breathe its last breath

All alone

All alone

Feeling kinda scared

All alone

All alone

She dies

All alone

Her heart gone cold

I set the pencil down. My eyes are burning as I try to hold back the wave of tears that suddenly come over me. I never put it down onto paper, but now that I had, it seemed so much easier. Easier than the truth. Though it still hurt to look at, I realized that it wasn’t as sad if you hadn’t experienced it. I close my eyes, letting myself slide deeper into the hard plastic seat.

Nolan glances back at me, curious. “You good Calli?” he whispered.

I nod my head without opening my eyes. My back was alarmingly agonizing. I shifted in the seat, draping my body over my desk. I feel a light tap on my right shoulder.

I ignore it.

After a few seconds, I get stabbed with the tip of a pencil in the same spot. I open my eyes and glare at Maven. “What?” I growl deep in my throat. Mrs. Wittmer glances up from her work and stares at me.

“Is something wrong Calli?” she asks me. She pushes her thick-rimmed glasses up on her nose.

Maven doesn’t even give me the chance to reply. “She’s fine. Just a little frustrated with her work.”

Mrs. Wittmer’s brow furrows. “Do you need help, Ms. Jaspers?” Worry was genuine in her voice, but I wouldn’t let myself be fooled.

I smile at her weakly, but glare at Maven out of the corner of my eye. “No. I’m actually done. Just tired is all.”

Mrs. Wittmer stood up, clipboard hugged to her chest. “Are you ready for me to check your work?”

I frown. I hated showing my work to people, but I nodded anyway. After all, I came to school so I could get a life. So I could leave home behind. The teacher walked over, getting to me in a matter of seconds. Picking up my paper, she scanned the page thoroughly. After a minute or two, she set my paperback down on my desk. “Quite interesting, Ms. Jaspers. Would you mind me asking what it’s about?”

Nolan, Brenda, and Maven all watched me closely, ears waiting for my answer. My mouth, however, had gone completely dry. “Um…” I mumbled. “It’s about feeling alone in a world you cannot imagine anyone else would be in.”

“Explain,” Mrs. Wittmer told me, brown eyes curious.

“Uh…” I mumbled again. I was unsure what she wanted me to say. I couldn’t tell her the truth. After all, it was a rule I had set. “Imagine you’re going through a hard time that you felt would never end,” I decide to say. “You feel lost, scared, and alone. Unable to really say anything to anyone for a fear of them getting into the same situation. She feels like she’ll die there, unable to escape her torment.”

Mrs. Wittmer frowned at me, contemplating what I said. Nolan and Brenda looked surprised. Maven watched the others for their reaction. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Jaspers,” Mrs. Wittmer said, placing her hand on my shoulder in what was supposed to be a soothing way. However, it made me cringe at the thought of someone else’s hands on me. “This is the best work you’ve given me by far,” she exclaimed.

Maven cocks his head at me. “You of all people seem like you would have a more interesting story,” he says. Though I think he was talking to me, I stay silent. Mrs. Wittmer scowled at him before moving on to find another student who was done. I shifted in my seat, keeping my eyes cast down. My back felt as if someone had set it on fire at this point.

Nolan and Brenda returned to writing, but Maven watched me studiously. I was growing impatient with him. He never seemed to get the point of silence. He never got the point of carelessness. His page was blank before him, yet he was concentrated on me. His silver eyes were squinted in a way that was making me uncomfortable.

I couldn’t bear it anymore. Raising my hand, I waited for Mrs. Wittmer to call on me. I rubbed my back while I waited. Not only was it in an attempt to ease the pain, but to make sure I wasn’t bleeding. An eternity later, she finally called on me.

“May I go to the bathroom?” I asked her softly. Just loud enough she could hear it.

“You may,” she replied. She turned her eyes to Maven, brown depths lighting up. “Yes, Mr. Verascue?”

“I need to get something from my locker.”

She nodded. I assumed she wasn’t actually listening since she didn’t ask us for passes, but I was still aggravated Maven would follow me out of the classroom. Slowly standing upright, I lead myself out of the room. It was painful to walk. The scabs near my hips were bending in not so comfortable ways.

What was more annoying was that Maven could see the storm brewing inside me, and asked about it. “What’s up with you?”

I didn’t bother to answer. I didn’t feel a need to defend myself in any other way but silence. I walked past the lockers. After all, the bathrooms were at the end of the hallway, not the beginning. Yet, Maven was still following me. I felt an overwhelming sense of unease as I quickened my pace.

Entering the girl’s bathroom, I was aware of him hovering at the entrance. Sighing, I sat down on the edge of the countertop. Reaching up, I pulled the sleeve of my shirt over my shoulder. That was where the brunt of the pain was. Though it didn’t look half as bad as the other marks on my skin, it was still awful to look at. I focused on it.

I suddenly heard a gasp. I froze, unsure what to do. I didn’t expect him to have the guts to actually come into the ladies room. Finally regaining my senses, I growl, “What are you doing, Maven?”

#thriller #suspense #romance #memories

What Is Fear? It is an emotion, state of mind and body induced by threat or danger, pain which causes consequences like hiding, fleeing, running, panic buying.

As I glanced outside my window, I could only see people endowed with the fear. Sadness and tears covered the sky. The air was filled with negative thoughts. A blanket of fear seemed like it engulfed the world in it.

Fear of COVID 19

Fear of separation

Fear of hunger

Fear of pain

Fear of goods getting sold out

Fear of Staying in Home

Fear of Social Distancing

Fear of Death(Thanatophobia).

Change is only a permanent thing.

Understand your fear

Face your fear

Confront your fear

Fight your fear

Annex your fear

A man is considered brave when they have the courage to conquer fears.

                                                         Nelson Mandela

We need to conquer these fears, It is not only your fight, but it is also ours.

let's make a small change.

Face your one fear and you have made the world a better place to live. Be it small. Try it out today and comment on how you faced it.