Life feel so unfair. As though it's swallowing me up with tragedy once again. I feel suffocated, helpless, fearful. Where do I turn to? Who do I turn to? Who can help me? It's as though my life is going in circles.

My throat is closing up, my mind is feeling numb. I want to scream but I cannot.I fear life, I fear death even more. Yet a coward such as myself still lives. Why are you leaving? Why are you being taken from me when I finally found peace within myself because of you.

I fear time moving. I fear you leaving and with your last breath you take my hope because you are my angel.

The voice in my head which sometimes feels dormant rises.

Slowly.

Softly.

Gently.

It whispers like a soft breeze, sometimes I can’t hear it.

The murmur is so soft and yet as it grows stronger in the blink of an eye it roars.

Screaming.

Crying.

Panicking.

It rattles my brain.

It drives me insane.

I feel as though I grow mad and I feel trapped.

I am trapped inside my head.

I live controlled by fears and anxiety.

Of what? I don’t know.

What I do know is I want to run.

I want to free myself of these chains.

I want to break free from my head and live life like you.

You who have silence,

You that doesn’t panic.

You that I don’t know yet but each day I challenge.

You the side of me that is hidden.

The one that fights my anxiety.

The more I strike the stornger it gets.

Though my sword is sharp,

Anxiety’s shield is stronger.

So I must strike and strike again until that armor breaks.

I must fight and run and scream.

I must scream until my real voice is heard.

The one without fears.

The one who is stronger.

Everyday I struggle but every day that I fall and get back up I win a small battle.

Are there days when you beat me?

Are there days when you leave me in shreds?

The answer is yes.

But I cannot give up.

I cannot let you win.

A small battle won is not all there is.

We’ll clash and clash again but the war is the one that I will win.

Today we are burying our troubles.

Everything that had every worried our hearts and has filled our souls with grief.

All negative thoughts and those times where life just felt as if it had no meaning.

Today I bury my past.

Gone are those days where I cried to myself feeling like garbage because that was all I knew how to feel.

Today I bury my tears.

Gone are those drops that fell down my cheeks that once felt like release from a life of pain I was living.

Today I bury my demons.

Gone are those dark thoughts which followed me.

Those thoughts which chained me to the darkness and lingered in my head whispering insistantly for me to give up.

Today I finally say goodbye to you all.

Come tomorrow when the sun rises once again I will start anew.

I have mourned my losses it's time to smile at my gains, For all I have lost I have won a lot more.

I don’t know

where this path leads

But I just, know that,

this is, me.

So put this on repeat.

And get lost in ya thoughts.

And remember the road to ur dreams,

is never a walk in the park.

There are many kinds of love. There is love that you feel for family, parents, siblings, cousins. This kind of love feels reassuring and to some extent is the type of love that to many is forever. It is unconditional and these people are the ones that you are sure that even when they leave this world they love you from beyond. Then there is love between friends.

People that you choose to care for who keep your secrets, share experiences with and that at certain points in your life stay or leave. Loving and caring for those few that stay forever and feel just like family.

Then there is love, the type of love with that special someone that takes your breath away, makes your knees weak and causes your heart to flutter a million different ways. Does love have a limit? I believe people have a breaking point. To fantasize and romanticize love based on book, movies and stories is unrealistic. Some people believe love has to do with luck or compare it to finding a needle in a haystack. Some people find it, while others simply don't. I believe love is more than an emotion of euphoria filled with passion and happiness. Love is about going through the ups and downs of life together with that special person. Love is about compromises and having arguments, making up and sharing all the good and bad points in your life. When people say love has a limit it's not because they didn't love enough it's because this love just wasn't right.

People have limits, people can break easily just like life is very fragile and can be gone in a flash. Love is like a flame that can burn bright and slowly it dims away unless you add more fuel. When people give up and stop trying, that's when love dies. Emotions are limitless you will always feel something until the day you die. Love isn't limitless, the person is the one who chooses to let love go, be it a good reason or a bad reason to let love go. Ultimately it is the person who once felt it that decides whether love is limitless or not.

You should have told me you were bad for me. As if I didn't know, as if the way you looked at me not with love but with carnal lust was not a first warning sign. The good, the bad, the ugly everything that you came with I took it all. Why? 

Maybe because I myself only looked back at you with lust. Maybe because I myself hated the quiet parts of me I was without you. With you I am wild, angry, a part of myself awakened and I.... I was caught up in your world of lies, cheating, passion.

Together we were bound to crash. Without one another what do we really have? When you're with me I have moments where I can breathe peacefully. Your arms wrap around me and I.... I feel at home. These moments of light and peace are only small glimpses of what could be. The calm before the storm. A storm of mistrust and bad judgement on both our parts...

In the end what do we have left?.... In the end what have we given each other if not pain. The bitterness of your kiss... the sweetness that comes with our passion has died long ago because we've consumed too much of each other. In the end... we are left empty and filled with regret. You and I are bad for each other. I am too prideful, you are too angry. We are both wrong. In the end... we are back to being what we once were when we began. Strangers wanting to be loved and left with bitter feelings of loneliness...

“We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection…”- Brene Brown

~

The room felt cold. This safe haven which he had built for himself where he could create pottery and feel vulnerable had slowly been tainted by his pain. The familiar numbing inside his soul brought vile to rise from his throat as he held a glass of whiskey that now held but a single drop of alcohol. His other hand rested against his forehead trying to massage away the pain he felt inside. Once again his mother had bid him to bring forth his father and keep him away from whatever whore lay under him. Wincing at the memory of his father’s latest mistress and chocking back a sob at his mother’s cruel shrieks of despair So Yi Jeong shook. He could hear his phone vibrate in his pocket for the hundredth time but he refused to answer calls from his friends; friends who at the current time pitied him. Holding his empty glass into a death grip he flung it across the room allowing it to shatter against an empty wall.

“Enough!” He wanted to shout. The desperation and unbearable pain was causing him to deteriorate from inside like a decaying body slowly being eaten by maggots… and his parents… they were just that to him.

From the time he could recall at the age of seven his mother had always sent him out to chase after his father in order to chase away his mistresses and bring him back to her. What that did to his mind really screwed him up. He was damaged goods and someone who could never in his lifetime dream of love. Time and time again he found himself laughing at people who claimed love. Love wasn’t real. There wasn’t any kind of love that could possibly prove to him that it remotely existed. His parents cared only for themselves, uncaring of the situation he was being put through and ignoring both his feelings and his older brother’s Il Hyun. Women, they were all trash. Everyone wanted something from him everyone needed power, money, sex. They were all after something but love wasn’t in their plans.

His head began to spin with rage and somehow he had to try and swallow that vile down his throat which only continued to grow stronger. His mind began to race and he felt like a madman needing a fix of anything that could set his mind out of this turmoil and for the time being, cast aside his problems. He needed to feel alive if only for a moment again and needed something fast. Yi Jeong was no addict, he was no alcoholic, what he wanted; what he needed, was sex. Feeling air reach his lungs he reached for his cellphone which was on his table. Ignoring the several missed calls from his friends he scrolled down for his girl of the week; Sunny. The phone rang and he reached for the bottle of scotch this time which lay on the counter at the far end of the room gulping down as much as he could; ignoring the burn of his throat.

“Yi Jeong,” He heard her say, her voice purring at him and already making him forget his problems at the thought of having her.

“Can I come over?” He questioned smirking to himself while trying to push away these feelings of self loathing and trying to concentrate solely on her.

~

Sighing loudly Ga Eul lay flat on her back as she stared at that one familiar heart on the ceiling of her bedroom. The weekend continued to pass on rather slowly and with her porridge shop boss going on vacation she had nowhere else to go or be for that matter. Closing one eye before squinting she reached her hand up to snatch away at the small heart; appearing to grasp it in her fist before sighing letting her fist go and allowing her eyes to open properly again.

“If only love were that easy,” She whispered to herself, turning her body to the side and trying to bury herself deep within her mattress.

“Why me?” She questioned to herself feeling her cheeks redden at the memory.

Today out of all the days Jae Ha had invited her out to eat. Her day had been brightened for that morning and Ga Eul spent most of that morning fixing her hair up, finding the right outfit all to have the biggest disappointment in her life when her childhood friend introduced her to his date Melanie. Ga Eul was a lot of things but she was no third wheel to anyone; even if it was to the guy she liked. She could tell by the way the beautiful green eyed brunette glared at her oh so discretely that she was unwelcomed on their date. It was due to this that Ga Eul faked being sick and tried to go home; which resulted in her friend sending her home and asking Melanie to kindly take the bus. Ga Eul was mortified and felt so bad about it she really did feel sick by the time she was home.

Reaching once again for the heart she thought of the moment she placed it on her ceiling. From the moment she knew about love, pure, innocent love which in Ga Eul’s opinion entailed soulmates. She had once read a book called Bloom and found herself enthralled in the idea of finding that one person in the entire universe that only connected to you.

“Love is like Magic. Unbelievable but quite wonderful when it happens so suddenly,” She had thought to herself. It was due to this that she had stuck a small heart to her ceiling above her bed to remind her that love should always be something to reach out for. Thinking about Jae Ha she sighed once more.

“All I can do for now is hope.”

https://www.inkitt.com/stories/100376/chapters/1?preview=true

Chapter 1: 

The Way We Began 

(Lyric)

*Bump, ba-bump, Bump, ba-bump*

There it was again that feeling at the pit of my stomach. The same feeling that never fades away. My heart feels like it’s drumming in my ears in slow motion. This world wasn’t made for people like me. The fragile, the weak, people who break. Maybe if this was back then, years before the great Nova outbreak things would have been different. Maybe I could have fought back. The sad truth was I was always weak. The Super Nova outbreak happened long before I was born. Years and years ago before any of our parents, or our grandparents and great grandparents were born. It happened at night, there was no scientific way to explain it. The stars all aligned the sky clear the moon shown bright and then a comet hit earth. It was unlike anything earth had seen. It glowed with blue light. Its size half of earth. People waited to die. Instead, it was like it became part of the world. Repercussions followed soon after.

Superhuman males began to rise. They were called Novas. Hybrids born from the collision. Animals. The first to rise, a wolf named Alexander Archer. Not long after more males began to transform. Tigers, Lions, Bears, Hyenas. The list goes on and on. Females on the other hand stayed the same. When the Nova outbreak first happened there did not seem to be any explanation as to why men were the only ones that changed. As the years went on and resources around us changed, and medical science advanced it was proven that all males had a gene that women did not carry that allowed them to change. While women did not change, nor were we affected by the change of earth around us. In a way it was something to be proud of. Women had been strong enough not to evolve in order to survive. We don’t transform into super beings. We don’t have super speed. But we are needed. 

Mating or imprinting was the term used in the times of the ancestors. They were connections with a male Nova and a human woman. This connection, this bond was so strong. It was the closest thing to true love. It was said the stars in the sky could link you to your one true love. Your soulmate, as we now called it. For any girl it may sound romantic, and it is. Everyone that finds their significant other lives on cloud nine. You love each other so much that you literally die without them. It’s an intense attraction, Love, lust, friendship all wrapped into one. Before, in the times of our ancestors, it was all determined by the heart. You would go out into the world in hopes of finding that true love. That speck of wishful thinking, wanting to find someone to love you unconditionally. Of course that was back then. Now everyone does it by having their DNA samples sent to our NOVA Research lab. Out of everyone in this huge abnormal world there is only one other DNA that can be a match to yours, your mate. Everyone is destined for someone, everyone deserves love… Everyone but me. 

“You’re going to be late for school, you stupid girl!” My father yells opening the panic room. The light hits my face and I squint. My eyes sting while I prop myself up on my elbows trying to get up. Before I can say anything my father is already downstairs pulling me out of the panic room and all I can do is lay there unable to fight. My legs feel like jelly and I can’t get up. How long was I in there? Two days? Maybe a week? I don’t really know. 

“I said get up!” My father yells, his tone filled with so much rage that it makes me cringe. Before I know it I’m being kicked in my side. I don’t cry out only let out a small whimper hoping he doesn’t hear. The worse I scream the more punishment I receive. I don’t ask for my mother because I know well that she herself is trapped here. I stand up and my legs begin to shake while I try to find my footing. 

I’m so weak and hungry but I need to get ready for school. With weak legs I make my way to the bathroom across the hall holding on to the wall. One foot at a time taking slow little steps with shaky feet. Finally, after what seems like hours but I know is only minutes, I manage to get to the bathroom. Slowly I move to the shower and turn on the hot water letting it steam up the bathroom to give me some sort of warmth and comfort because I feel ice cold. I undress and I try not to look at myself in the mirror because I know how badly bruised I am. Both my arms, my stomach, my legs I can still see all the colors. Blue, green, yellow, purple I know it should hurt but I feel numb.

I no longer feel the physical pain anymore. I’ve learned to tolerate it, I can almost ignore it without complaint or even without crying out. Inside however, inside I feel so hurt. That heart and soul that I have, that I am, is nothing but shambles. A shell of something that could have been. Stepping into the shower I let the warm water relieve the pressure in my back. My muscles feel soar from being in the same sitting position for so many days. My neck burns and I can hardly swallow my own saliva. He likes to choke me until I pass out. I know his hand prints are on my neck but none of that pain compared to all the hurt he’s caused me deep in my soul. I close my eyes trying to relax, to bring some sort of peace in me just for a few seconds because I know my nightmare isn’t done yet. I can’t, I can never hear my own thoughts not with my father’s voice in my head. His angry face looking at me and those angry yellow piercing eyes glaring, Worthless, Pathetic, Ungrateful, and Useless. Over and over those words circle in my head and no matter how hard I try there never is an off button. Maybe because it’s the way I feel. 

“Sweetie you’re going to be late for school,” I hear my mother say. Her voice groggy, and I know she’s been crying. I don’t reply but I turn off the shower and reach for a towel. Wrapping it around myself I wince because the fabric seems too rough on my bruised skin. My feet seem to have awoken again because I can now move them without wobbling as much. When I open the bathroom door, my mother is standing there her eyes red and puffy and her face covered in black and blue. I don’t say anything, not because I don’t care but because I never know what to say to her. There are times when I’m angry at her for keeping me here with them, for not saving me. Then I remember she can’t do anything to save us. She herself is trapped here except I can leave to school and never come back and she can’t. In the end however, I always come back not because I’m afraid but because of her. 

“Your neck,” My mother says. Although she tries to reach out to me I cringe away. I know she’d never hurt me but still, I can’t bear anyone’s touch. They’d be tainted, cursed. 

“I’m fine.” I manage to say and for a moment my mother just looks at me her brown eyes searching for something that I can’t understand. 

“Okay.” She finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. There’s quiet again and there’s not much I can say or do that will make her or I feel better. Instead I nod silently and head toward my room. The basement.

My room is big but there’s nothing much there. The walls are coming apart. The paint long gone from the wall you can almost see the wooden material of the house. There’s a washer and dryer to the left. No posters, no pictures, nothing that says someone lives down here other than the small little mattress on the floor. My clothes are neatly piled on one side of the floor and my books are all stuffed in my backpack. Reaching for something to wear I grab an ugly puke green turtle neck sweater and a pair of faded blue jeans. 

Everything in my wardrobe I get at the local church because my father never buys me clothes. When I was little my mother and I would go down to church together to get clothes for her and I but now I had to go by myself. Being older meant I could do things on my own and it meant my mother had less freedom and right to go out according to my father.

Getting dressed was always a hard task for me. Lifting my arms, moving around in general, caused my bruising body to ache. Finally, after I was done, I gathered my old brown backpack and walked back upstairs. Before reaching the top I could already see a piece of toast placed on a napkin. Taking it, I stood at the steps for a few seconds securely wrapping it in the napkin and then stuffing it in my pocket. I knew that if I got caught, I’d be in trouble so I simply made my way out of the house. 

From outside everything seemed normal. The house looked like any other house in the block. White, green grass, beautiful roses at the front. Picture perfect for everyone to look at. 

“Going to school Lyric?” Mr. Able from across the street asked. He was a nice old man who mostly kept to himself. He’d lived across the street from our family for years. His wife passed away a few months ago, but he seemed fine though people knew it would only be a matter of time before he too passed away.

“Yes Mr. Able. Have a nice day.” I manage to say, and though I try to smile it seems neither of us really has the strength to do so. Instead, I make my way to the bus stop 2 blocks from here and I sit by at the bench to wait. Like always, I lean my hair to the front allowing myself to shield my face. Though there is no bruising there I still feel the need to hide. 

When the bus finally arrives, I get in paying my fee and sit at the back quietly. No one ever talks here. Not that anyone really rides the bus. Mostly females and the occasional senior nova who can no longer shift. Somehow the area around me feels like doom. It’s bitter and hollow matching the gray sky that has seemed to hover above my head. Closing my eyes, I try to relax knowing what is about to come my way. What always comes my way when I go to school?

“This was life,”

*Bump, ba-bump, bump, ba-bump*

Even before the bus comes to a halt, I can feel it in my chest. My stomach seems to drop and I find it hard to get up. Somehow I manage to find my footing and all I can do is make my way to the door. I don’t want to. I hate school. High School is always hard for anyone. But when you’re new, nerdy, and at a prep school for the rich? You might as well carry a sign that reads “Hit me.” on your back all day. But I guess I didn’t really need one. Walking down the hallway I can’t help but keep my head down. The whispers are always there, the snickering, the staring it never seems to stop.

“Lyric. How was your weekend?”

I can recognize the voice simply because she’s one of the two people that speaks to me. At least, one that wasn’t rude to me. Out of everyone at school she’s the only one that’s different. I don’t know why she talks to me. Crystal Mane is by far one of the most popular girls in school and the prettiest. With her piercing blue eyes, silky beautiful blonde locks and a kind smile. She looks like a beautiful model the way she looks and how tall she is. Offering her a small shrug she smiles at me and continues to speak. I don’t really listen simply because I’m afraid of what happens next. What always happens next… 

“I’ll see you in class okay,” Crystal says, her blue eyes lighting up before she walks away. This always happens not because she wants to but because circumstances make it happen. Her locker is on the second floor, mine is on the bottom floor therefore she can’t follow me around everywhere. She can’t protect me all the time.

*Bump, ba-bump, Bump, ba-bump*

Each step that I take I can feel the knot twisting further and further in my chest. I keep my head down trying to protect myself as much as I can. Though I know it doesn’t help, it makes me feel safer. I can hear him first. Parker Archer. His laid back cheerful voice. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a white shirt, his blue jeans hanging loose across his long legs and a pair of black boots on his feet. His dark hair falling just below his eyebrows. For a moment I see him tense his back going rigid for a second and I know he senses I’m here to. He stops talking, the relaxed expression in his face gone I assume. I can hear him shift his body toward me. Immediately I look down and avoid eye contact my heart still racing.

Even in Super Nova life there is always going to be someone on top. Our world is mostly at peace. No one really fights and there aren’t many wars. Two kingdoms divide this planet which we call home. The Kingdom of Archer and The Kingdom of Cray. The Kingdom of Archer is peaceful, King Thomas is the fair King, Father of Spencer Archer and Prince Parker Archer, my tormentor.

“You know it’s not Halloween yet. Or are you late for the graveyard shift?” Parker says his voice loud and confident wanting everyone in the hall to listen to him. Though I can feel myself shrinking, I try not to let it faze me or at least not show him that it did. I never understood why Parker Archer always made me feel disarmed. Laid bare for all to see. It was as if he could see all my faults, all those flaws, all the ugly that I really was. For that reason, I could never look him in the eyes too afraid of what he might see, what he might confirm. I could always mask my emotions around him, around everyone. Pretending had become a necessity to survive, and I was an expert. Still, the longer I stayed here in front of him the more I feared he would know. Trying to keep my composure I continued to ignore him opening my locker shifting my backpack toward the front in order to take out my textbooks.

“Why do you come here?” Parker asks. His question causing me to still. There’s something different in his voice, an edge to it that has never really been there when he insults me. Usually he only makes fun of my clothes or makes jokes about the way I look. This time. I can feel it in my chest again. This is different.

*Bump, ba-bump, bump, ba-bump*

“Why do you come here?” He asks again but I simply finish emptying my books in my locker, only taking my math book and closing my locker. 

“Don’t listen to him. Don’t listen to him,” My head and my heart both chant together. My stomach tightens a knot twisting inside and I try to walk away but his words stop me.

“Everyone at this school hates you.” He says, his words twisting that knife inside my heart further with his words. Though I’m shaken I don’t want him to look at me, for the most part I’m glad my back was to him. Still, he continues to speak.

“You show up every single day. Why? You’re just a joke.” He says and with those words I can feel the hall silence. The whispers have stopped and every single head is looking between us, waiting. My ears go mute to the outside world because now I can no longer hear anything. Anything that is, but my father’s own words ringing in my head over and over like a scratched CD. My chest tightens, and the air begins to lessen in my lungs making it hard to breathe.

*Bump, ba-bump, Bump, ba-bump*

“Parker leave her alone,” I hear someone say, though the voice sounds familiar it fades behind me too.

*Bump, ba-bump, bump, ba-bump*

“Do us all a favor and disappear. The world would be a lot better if people like you weren’t in it,” Parker says. Faster and faster my heart thumps. My father’s voice is now screaming in my ears. I can’t breathe now. There’s no air. Not a single ounce of peace. 

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump*

My heart is racing now loudly in my ears, wanting to jump out of my chest. No one is saying anything and all I can hear is my own heartbeat.

“You son of a bitch!”

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump*

Like an explosion or a large wave, the silence is suddenly broken by Crystal. I can’t hear what she’s saying anymore my racing heart is too much. I can’t look up and I can’t move it’s only when I feel Crystal take my arm and pull me away that I react. She doesn’t say anything to me and takes me to the bathroom. She’s coddling me like a small child talking to me gently but I don’t understand why. The panic in her eyes confuses me. It’s only when she hands me a tissue that I realize tears are silently falling down my cheeks.

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump, Bump, ba-bump, ba- bump*

My heart continues to tick almost like a bomb with a timer. Waiting to explode. Waiting to break.

(Parker)

Regrets. Everyone has them. Some people have many while others don’t. Even the smallest thing you do has an impact. Like a leaf falling into a still lake. The leaf is light delicate and when it hits the water it lands softly in the small pool ricocheting into small waves. No matter what you do any small action good or bad impacts people in so many ways that it almost seems unrealistic. Had I known what future was set for the two of us I would have never allowed myself to go that far….

“Can you hurry up we’re going to be late!” 

Groaning, I tried to ignore the pounding outside my room door and simply covered my face with my pillow. I’d stayed up all last night trying to finish an English report on Poe. We were given almost two weeks’ time but English Lit. was not my forte. 

“Parker!” He called out again his voice irritating me and making my head pound. Giving up on more sleep I sat up annoyed throwing my pillow at the door.

“Alright already I’m getting up!” I yelled. Moving the bed sheet away from me before getting up. I never really understood the point of going to school it wasn’t like we were actually going to do something after High School that entailed normalcy. The life of a Prince is hard. You have duties to your kingdom and the people in it. Mainly, protecting the people from the opposing kingdom Cray that often attacked Archer. Our life was peaceful for the most part though there was the occasional attack which father would handle with the troops. Spencer and I would be given lessons. Mainly from our father. Ways to act with the people. The laws and history of our world, and of course combat. Normally a prince is home schooled, father however, thought we should interact with our people. Not that I mind, in fact, I prefer it. 

“Parker you have five minutes or I’m telling our driver to leave without you!” Spencer yelled again.

“Just go I’ll run to school!” I yelled in irritation. It wasn’t like we needed to be driven around. We were faster than cars in our wolf forms anyways. It was always the same with him. He’s been crushing on Crystal Mane since we were kids. I can remember watching them together when we were young. Thinking of Crystal, I couldn’t help but feel that irritation gnawing away at the pit of my stomach.

“Not again.” 

Every time I think of Crystal that little thing she calls a friend comes to mind. 

“Forget it. I need to get ready for school,” I mutter to myself before I make my way to my bathroom to shower. Now was not the time to think of that…. Thing.

By the time I arrive to school I only have 5 minutes before the bell, maybe less. I’m quick to go to my locker ignoring anyone that calls my name because I need to hurry. I need to see her. I don’t know why I feel the need to do it every single day. It’s become a habit of mine almost an addiction like smoking. It’s not healthy but I need to do it anyways to feel better, at ease. Once I’m at my locker, I realize she hasn’t arrived yet and I begin to empty the contents of my backpack into the locker as slowly as I possibly can. I don’t want her to think I’m waiting for her.

“Hey man, why are you in such a hurry?” My friend Brad asks coming over to me and patting me on the back. 

“Masters is giving us an English test today on Poe and our papers are due you know how she is. If you’re late, you don’t get into her class and I can’t afford another F if I want to graduate,” I lie.

“Relax man. You’re the Alpha Wolf I don’t think graduation will matter,” Brad says.

“Tell that to our father. He’s threatened to hang Parker by his tail if he doesn’t graduate. Something about not being responsible,” Spencer says his green eyes glistening with mischief while Brad himself laughs, his booming laughter echoing out in the halls.

“I take it Blondie hasn’t arrived yet,” I say to Spencer in irritation and he simply glares my way.

“When are you going to ask her out man? It’s getting boring,” Brad says to Spencer.

“When he grows a pair,” I mutter causing Brad to laugh once again and Spencer to glare.

“It’s complicated you know there are rules to this and although some of us don’t follow them as a Prince I have to.” Spencer says his tone accusing. Although I hated to admit it Spencer was right.

In our world there were rules for us. Super Novas were not allowed to date anyone other than their mate. The bad of it all was the fact that you have to be 21 for the process to start. Some Novas like Brad who happened to be a large bear (Fitting for a guy his size who is pure muscle) would sneak around with the females. If you were caught, you would be penalized, nothing major just a few added months to your wait to find your mate. It wasn’t unheard of for Super Novas to go out of their way and date a few females. Other than being able to transform into enormous animals, we’re all still regular teenagers. Just like all teenagers we all have urges. 

“Rules are made to break you know.” I tell Spencer who shakes his head.

“And what will you tell your soulmate when she finds out you’ve been unfaithful to her with at least 5 women?” Spencer questions.

“She’ll understand” I say shrugging.

“Father won’t.” Spencer adds.

“Yeah well I not marrying father am I!” I snap, my remark once again emitting Brad’s booming laughter.

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump*

I can feel it. Without even looking I already know she’s here simply because that feeling is gnawing at me again.

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump*

I try not to move and my hands begin to sweat. The urge to readjust my jacket comes and I simply stuff my hands in my jean pockets to stop myself. 

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump*

I’m no longer hearing anything being said by Spencer or Brad because all I can think about is that gnawing feeling inside that keeps getting bigger. 

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump*

There she was again. She was the quietest and smartest girl in school. Why did I pick on her? Maybe it was because I could. After all, I was older and much stronger. Maybe it was because everyone in town knew who my family was. Nova royalty. I watched her walk down the hallway her head down and as always, she’s wearing an ugly green turtle neck sweater that’s too big for her. Her jeans ripped in different sections, her sneakers covered in dirt and covered in so many holes they look like Swiss cheese. She continues to walk, her head always down never looking up at anyone. She’s kind of small for her frame, delicate, breakable. Crystal walks with her down the hall her eyes fierce looking as if she was shooting lightning out of her ocean blue eyes daring anyone to say anything to the fragile thing next to her. Then Crystals’ eyes land toward me a silent warning.

“Stay away from her!”

Listening to Crystal is however, out of the question. Turning my back to them I wait. Knowing Crystal will leave and she’ll need to come over to me.

Her locker is next to mine. I always wait for her to come. Why? I like bothering her getting under her skin. Maybe it’s because she never reacts. It doesn’t seem to faze her. She never cries like I hope a fragile little girl like her will. Instead she makes me feel invisible, unheard. Because of it, I feel the need to say things to her, to see if it’ll one-day reach her ears. It’s childish I know, but I’ve never liked being ignored by anyone even if it is just her. Though I know who she is, what her name is, how shy she is I pretend to not know anything. To everyone else she is Crystal’s little friend. That was exactly what I tried to keep telling myself. I can feel her moving closer heading toward my direction and my mind concentrating on my task at the moment. What I really want to do I can never accomplish. I want to talk to her, bother her really. Even if she can’t hear it. I always try to see a tear fall. Hoping to get a reaction. Maybe its fascination that I feel or something else I’m not sure. The only thing I do know is that I need it. Whatever it is. Whatever she is I need it. After what feels like an eternity she’s standing next to me and I turn to look at her. 

“You know it’s not Halloween yet. Or are you late for the graveyard shift?” I ask her. Still, she does nothing and continues what she’s doing. Opening her locker and stuffing books in and out of them. The people around us laugh and yet she doesn’t say anything. There’s no reaction on her face that I can see either, simply because her silky chocolate brown hair is covering her face. I know I shouldn’t, I know it’s not right. Part of my mind always screams at me to stop while the other part screams for me to go further. 

“Why do you come here?” I ask her and for the first time I see her react. If only for a second, her posture goes rigid. Still it’s quick to fade, and she continues to ignore me taking a few books out from her locker.

“Why do you come here?” I ask again before a few moments go by and I wait for a reaction. In the end everything is all the same, her reaction remains the same, nothing. Not a single response as she tries to walk away.

“Stop her!” My mind yells.

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump*

Somehow I can’t stop myself from speaking anymore the voice in my head telling me to stop has already faded in the back overpowered by the need to get a reaction of any kind.

“Everyone at this school hates you,” I tell her. Once again, her posture goes rigid while her back still faces me. 

“You show up every single day. Why? You’re just a joke.” I tell her I have the urge to turn her around and see her reaction but just as my hand reaches out to her right shoulder Spencer speaks.

“Parker leave her alone,” Spencer says his eyes angry, but I can’t help what comes out next. It’s too late to turn back now. I’ve gotten this far and I want to keep going.

“Do us all a favor and disappear. The world would be a lot better if people like you weren’t in it,” I tell her, my mind suddenly turning off unsure if those words had really come out of my mouth. 

“You son of a bitch!”

Before I have time to react Crystal is already standing in front of me her eyes ice cold with fury.

*Smack*

Though I realize it should hurt to be slapped somehow I can’t feel it. All I can do is look at the girl with her back to me. She’s standing there quietly without a word though everyone else is now whispering around her. I realize she must not be aware of it either.

“You guys are a bunch of jerks! Just leave her alone! She’s not bothering anyone!” Crystal says, her eyes turning to Spencer for a brief second furious at him as well before she takes her friend by the hand dragging her away from everyone’s view.

“Dude,” Brad says though he is no longer smiling and there’s a look of disbelief in his eyes before he shakes his head and walks away.

“What?” I manage to say to Spencer who’s glaring at me. Running a hand though his dark curly hair he sighs in frustration and doesn’t say anything to me before walking away.

Had I known what would happen to her maybe I would have never said anything. I would have apologized to her and tried to make things better. Unfortunately, things never work out the way we plan them to…

How long has it been since I last saw her? One month… Maybe two? Everyone at school thinks she ran away. That makes me feel bad. Other people think she actually killed herself and it’s only a matter of time before someone finds her body. That brings chills to my entire body and I find myself unable to breathe when I think about it. 

“Hey Parker!” Brad calls out snapping me out of my thoughts. Closing my locker, I simply turn to him.

“What’s up?” 

“You coming down to Devils Creek with me right?” He asks

“There’s going to be girls,” Brad adds when I don’t answer.

“I think I’ll just hang out at my place,” I tell him shrugging.

“Come on man it’ll be fun. I have this girl for you her name is Grace or something.” 

“No thanks man,” I tell him. 

Had this been any other day before this entire thing happened maybe I would have been up for it, but now? Not so much.

“Come on. I told her friend I’d hook her up with you. Do me a solid,” Brad says and I sigh and nod feeling irritated. Still, Brad simply smiles, pats me on the back and walks away. I make my way out of school and to the parking lot where Spencer is waiting with our driver Neil. I can tell he’s angry at me because he looks like he’s spouting smoke from his ears. 

“What now?” I ask in irritation.

“Thanks to you Crystal’s pissed at me again,” Spencer says getting in the back seat of the car.

“What did I do?” I asked getting in the car and closing the door behind me before Neil takes off down the road heading toward our mansion.

“You mean other than insult her best friend,” Spencer says, his voice harsh

“Aside from that,” I say to him trying to sound like I don’t care, but feeling that guilt at the pit of my stomach gnawing away at me. Spencer however seems to buy my act because his glare intensifies.

“They took away Lyric’s scholarship because she’s missed so many classes she’s been expelled from school, and now Crystal is blaming me for not stopping you!”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, weighing me down further with guilt. I don’t blame him for being upset. I don’t blame Crystal for being pissed either this was all my fault. For the remainder of the ride home we don’t speak. Spencer because he’s too angry and me. I feel too guilty to say anything.

Maybe I deserved what happened next as a lesson, but she didn’t deserve this. No one does…

Devils creek. What was so special about it? Only we Super Novas could ever go down it. It’s almost like going down a large mountain with unsteady rocks. Impossible to scale for a human. You have to be fast and you have to be stealth with the way large rocks fall as you scale down. The creak is a dump filled with trash but everyone goes down there to get drunk and hook up with girls. Most of the time the Novas let the girls climb on their back in their animal form so they can get them down there.

“Where the hell where you?” Brad asks handing me a drink once I’ve shifted back into my human form and changed behind some bushes. Music is blaring loudly a few people are dancing at the far end. Others have gone deeper in to the woods around the large dump that is this place to get busy.

“Sorry. Overslept,” I lied. The truth was I didn’t want to come and spent the past 3 hours staring at my ceiling thinking about what Spencer had said. More than anything, I didn’t want to spend my time thinking about her anymore. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to carry two girls on my back while trying to avoid falling rocks on my head,” Brad said.

“Anyways.” Brad continued while we walked over to some girls. 

One was blonde and was wearing a small little red dress. Her eyes immediately looking me over up and down. Figures, Brad always had a taste for easy. The other one was a red head with cat like eyes she was in emerald green dress. She gave me a soft uncomfortable smile that told me she also didn’t want to be here. Her friend glares at her then nudges her softly in my direction. She only forces a smile and blushes.

“Hi, I’m Grace,” She finally says, extending her hand out to me.

“Parker.” I tell her and she simply nods her head in acknowledgement.

“I know.” She whispers.

“Why don’t you guys take a walk,” Brad suggests. Taking the hint, I nodded and turned to the girl.

“Let’s take a walk.” I tell her and she quickly follows me. The silence around us thick and uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I really didn’t want to be here,” She confesses and I find myself relaxing just a bit at her confirmation.

“Neither did I.” 

“So we were both dragged here by our friends,” Grace say smiling.

“I really don’t get the appeal of this place. There’s something about it that gives me the chills,” She added shaking her head.

“It’s just a hangout,” I tell her shrugging. 

“And a place to hook up unseen by Nova officers,” I think to myself though I don’t voice it out to her because we both know well what this place was for.

“There’s nothing here but trash,” Grace added, walking along the edges of the creek. 

“It would be a good place to hang out if it wasn’t so dirty,” I added.

The truth was the creek at one point had been clean and some would say beautiful. Now there was nothing but trash floating in the water. Cups of beer, beer bottles, tires, everything and anything that you could think of. The water was murky black and if there ever was any fish, they were long gone. 

“I can’t believe people come here for.” 

For a moment she grew quiet. Her eyes widening like saucers and she visibly paled. 

“Oh My god! What is that?” Grace asked pointing to something hidden by a pile of old bags floating around it. 

*Bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump*

Approaching it cautiously I froze. All I could see was someone’s foot. It was covered in dry blood and their skin was blue. Bruises and cuts surrounding the leg.

“Go call someone,” I managed to say, my chest tightening so hard I couldn’t breathe. The smell was disgusting. It smelled of decaying flesh and something else that could only be described as death. My heart began to pound hard in my chest with fear now.

“What if?”

“No.” 

I couldn’t allow myself to think that way, not at this moment. The persons’ hand was sticking out in an odd angle and there was clear bruising and dry blood on it. It was only then that I realized that this person had deep gashes across the wrist. Across the arm there was a single word carved into the flesh. UNWORTHY. 

I couldn’t breathe. My own mind flashing to Lyric and begging that this wasn’t her. That I hadn’t caused this. There was a bag on her head that was covering her face. She had brown hair her clothes were the same as the last day I saw her. That ugly green turtle neck sweater and those cut up old jeans. Reaching for the bag with shaky hands I moved it away carefully. 

“No…. Lyric.”

In the back I could hear fast heavy footsteps but they hardly registered in my mind, not with what I was seeing in front of me.

“No. This can’t be her.” I thought to myself.

“Parker!” Brad yelled after me while I backed away from the body unable to take it. My mind was screaming, my heart thumping wildly and my stomach plummeting a hundred times. 

“It’s her.”

“Lyric....”

When desperation hits, when all hope is gone and I feel as though there is no exit where do I turn? When writing is not enough and it feels as though the walls have caved in and there is no escape. Who do I turn to? With no one to understand me. No one that I can talk to who can I turn to? God. 

God hears our cries, worries, pleas. He hears our praises and when we give him thanks. It is only when I talk to him that my heart feels at ease and my worries seem to lessen. It is him that calms my pain and ends my suffering.... Amen...

I remember the first time I wrote. I was fed up with my current living situation, felt alone and overwhelmed. I had no one to talk to, no one who could understand what it was like to live the way I was living. My circumstances left me no choice but to keep my life secret as if I had done something wrong when I was the one suffering. I needed to talk to someone or at least express myself in some way. I spent two days on my very old computer typing away my feelings, talking about my life to no one in particular, and crying my eyes out as I told no one about what was going on. It may sound a bit useless to some people but by the end of this I felt much better and I continued to write out what I felt in journals, pieces of paper, my computer. All of which made me feel better and made me grow and later when I was out of that situation I went back to read about my pain, this helped me grieve and move on from the bad parts of my life. Back then I wrote for myself, much like I still do. Except, back then writing was something I was yet to be passionate about.

Writing was an escape but I never thought I could share my writing with anyone or create characters and tell stories. That was until my teenage self found a website where I could post stories and create. My first works weren't that great. I put no thought in it. The dialogue was horrible, as was the grammar, and I used 'as' a bit too much. One read, or two made me happy and slowly I reached 100. My first milestone as I like to call it. 200, 300, 400, 500. That was the most I was able to get with those stories and I was over the moon. Back then of course, I wasn't creating characters but writing silly fan fiction which made no sense to anyone but me.

Having the internet at hand you have access to many parts of the world and I fell in love with Asian dramas, mangas, even now I can't get enough of it all. I found a website which like the one I would upload my stories in is no longer available, where you could upload fan fiction specifically for Asian Dramas. It was the first time I was really excited. 

I wrote every single day without thought and wrote about anything but I loved spending time doing it. I spent the next few years like this.

My first real character was made much later on. My writing had improved just a tad and I'd opened several accounts on other sites (Which are still active). I added a side story to main character in a Drama named Boys over Flowers. I loved that manga, watched the Japanese, Korean, Chinese, and Taiwanese version of the drama and I'd fallen in love with the characters. My favorite version was the Korean version of the drama of course, so I wrote stories using their names. I wanted to give the secondary lead guy a happy ending so I did. This is where things changed.

I would upload once a week, if I could though there would be times I could not post, overall it took a year to finish writing what I wanted but it made me happy to write and I did just that. I received feedback and my views were reads than ever 17,000. I could not be more proud of myself. Unfortunately, it was at this time that the bad aspects of my life were catching up to me. 

We ended up escaping from the abusive environment we were in but just because something is gone does not mean it goes away. I was very depressed. I could not get up from bed, I didn't cry. Time passed in a blink of an eye. I spent days not getting up from bed; mind you I was on break from school which did not help. I would lay in bed all day, not get up and just stare at the ceiling with no perception of time. I would simply look up and it was like my mind was a blank. The only reason I knew time was going on was because my mother would leave work and come back later at night. My mother at first would not say a word, even when she was worried. But she hoped I'd get better. I would eat when she would get home but I'd lock myself away soon after under covers and would not sleep most nights. Finally, she'd had enough after I had a panic attack due to stress and had to be sent to the hospital where I talked to a psychiatrist there. 

When we got home nothing changed for me. I didn't say much to the woman who referred me to counselors and psychologists I could call. The very next day I was back in bed wrapped in my bedsheets and laying in my bed with a blank expression. I'd never shown my mother any of my writing but she knew that I did write a lot. Something that I'd stopped doing for a full year now at that point. I'd deleted all my online accounts and all my stories from my computer. I wasn't happy. My mother yelled at me. She didn't know what to do and told me that things needed to change or she'd send me back to where we once were. With a drunk, drug addictive father which we once lived with. The man was violent, and angry, not to mention the blow to my self esteem I'd taken for years. My morale was on the floor by the time we'd left. Having my mother say that and knowing she herself had experience his abuse first hand plus more it broke me down. 

I cried for the next few days when no one was home and having my mother tell me that the wakeup call that I needed to get me back on my feet. I'd deleted everything I had online and wasn't ready to write again for others to see. So I wrote for myself once again. I spent two months just writing what I felt and writing about nothing until I felt better again. I wanted to feel better and by the time I was done I did feel better. The last step for me was taking my old journals and reading them. They were written in a time of pain and when I was done I'd cried my eyes out but I felt as if I could move on from the past and I did. 

Getting back to writing online made me smile. I'd had a dream. A dream about a girl walking to her locker. Shy, timid, brown hair, brown eyes and a boy. A boy who was in love with her but could not express his feelings the right way. When I woke up I could not get the scene out of my head and soon their names came to me. Lyric Mason, Parker Archer. Then, their world, their friends, enemies. The name of my story Fixing the Soul.

Lyric was much like me, abused, lonely, scared of the world. Through her I was able to get past my own past a grow up with her. Lyric was the soft side of me. The one that was afraid. Parker Archer was who I wanted to be sure of himself, though sometimes makes bad choices, overall, he is a good person. Something which we can see later on. Is he perfect? No. Does he make mistakes? Yes. But both characters are trying to grow and learn from they mistakes, their past and in the end they shape up to being good people, which  I hope I can be. With these characters and many more I ended up writing my first real story. I had other stories and created characters before but this story felt different. 

I'd put in much more time and effort into this than anything else I'd ever written. I posted my story online in a new website and by this time my writing had changed once more. My views had increased so much and I'd acquired new readers. But I could not seem to let go of fan fiction writing. I love playing with other characters and I wanted to return to my old websites to give my old readers a sign of life. So I gave a link to my new story and changed names to fit the BOF characters using secondary as the main leads. 

I received a good response and I was happy. Seeing the views and I'd spent a lot of time working on my original characters I became a bit ambitious and my dreams which I'd wanted to become a social worker naturally changed to wanting to become a writer. I stopped my story online and finished my book first. Changing the name to Bloom. Expanding the book to a series named the Kingdom of Archer and it is what I now have today.

It makes me happy to talk about how it all got started and this book and these characters are a part of me and what helped me grow. Of course I have not stopped writing online and I still write fan fiction. I don't see anything wrong with that simply because it's a hobby and something I love to do. But I do create my own characters now and I want to write my own book, plots, stories. If I ever do get published by a company I look forward to reading stories based on my own characters.