Elaine

“Hey Fred!”

She was on. Time to get to work. Elaine cracked her knuckles and placed her fingers on the keyboard. They were bent, like a Sheppard’s crook, and glided gracefully across the keys.

“Hey Rachel! How’s it shaking bacon?”

“Lol. You’re so funny Fred. Not much going on here. I have a lot of homework though, so the usual. Lol. How about you?”

“Me too. Lol.”

“Lol. Hey baby, I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“With all my heart, baby.”

“Ok, here goes. Baby, I think I’m bi.”

Elaine stared intently at the screen. Sweat dripped down her temple. She noticed her palms were moist, as if she had washed them but did a poor job of drying them off. Why was she so flustered? Rachel was just a student. She had gotten over the novice’s fears of talking to students long ago, with experience, practice, and natural talent of course. And it’s not like she hadn’t had a student come out to her before. She was the gayest teacher on the planet. Students came out to her all the time. But this was different. Not just because she was pretending to be someone else.

“Freddy?”

‘Shit, keep focus Elaine.’ She thought to herself.

“Yeah babe?”

“Are you ok with this?”

Elaine stared at the screen. She responded

“Of course I am.”

“Oh that’s a relief! Thank you so much Freddy! I love you!”

Elaine’s heart skipped a beat.

“I love you Rachel.”

I love you Rachel. That’s the first time she had said it, well wrote it, aloud but it was true. It wasn’t one of those loves where you first see the person you instantly want to marry them. In fact, she thought Rachel a bit dowdy at first. Frizzy hair, crooked nose, small beady eyes, a plump figure; she wasn’t going to make the cover of Glamour magazine anytime soon. That’s why she started this endeavor in the first place. She was bored, and it wasn’t like anyone would miss the child if she killed herself when “Fred” inevitably left her. Well, maybe her parents would, but she thought they would probably be as useless as Rachel was, so it didn’t really matter. But getting to know Rachel, finding out she liked Thoreau and Dickens, Socrates and Plato, classical music and fine art, all the things that make an intelligent, sophisticated person. And when she read her essays, so well written and beautifully crafted with phrases as graceful as a bird taking the wind under its wings and soaring into the air. Sure, she had her dorky, Star Trek loving side too, but Elaine knew she could weed that out of Rachel, and transform her fully into the sophisticate that she was meant to be. Just like Elaine.

“I’ll always love you Rachel, no matter what.”

“You too baby! Hey, sorry Freddy, I got to go to my trumpet lesson, but I’ll talk to you when I get back ok?”

“Ok baby, have fun!”

“Thanks! Ttyl.”

Rachel logged off.

Elaine looked at the screen. ‘Talk to you later, my sweet ingénue.’

Kelly called “Honey, come to dinner!”

“Coming.”

Elaine logged off.

Francesca

“Hi Dave!”

Francesca saw the message on her screen. Her fingers leaped over to the keyboard and typed faster than a crook on the run.

“Hey Rachel. What’s up, babe?”

“Not much. I have a lot of homework. So the usual. Lol. How about you, baby?”

“Same. Lol.”

“Lol. Hey baby, I have something to tell you.”

'Tell me?'

“Yeah, what is it sweetie?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“Promise.”

“Ok, here goes. Honey, I think I might be bi.”

Francesca held her breath. Her heart raced. She was shaking so badly it caused her long, blonde hair to quiver. Why was she getting so flustered? It was all a joke. Just something to do with Monica and Jessie. Making fun of the class nerd. Getting her to fall in love with someone she should know is way out of her league. Just planning to text her for one day only, and then leave her high and dry to sulk and cry all by herself. But Felicia knew it had become more than that. She started messaging her every week. Then, she started messaging her every day. Now, she was messaging her all the time. She was learning about Rachel. Seeing pictures of her dog, Spock, who was named after a character in Star Trek, a really cool but nerdy show she had Francesca, well Dave, watch. Finding out about the summer home where Rachel’s family used to go in Montauk, but had to sell since her mom lost her job. Being confided in when Rachel told her about the uncle who used to take her into his room, same as Felicia’s uncle did to her. Yes, this had become more to Francesca than just a game. But she was terrified to think of what it had become.

“Baby?”

‘Shoot.’ Francesca realized she must have been a thousand miles away.

“Yeah, sugar?”

“What do you think? Are you ok with this?”

Francesca looked at the screen. She responded.

“Of course baby! I love you no matter what!”

“Oh Dave! I love you too! No matter what!”

Francesca winced.

“Davy, I just want to let you know, you can tell me anything. Anything at all. And I’ll still love you. Always.”

Francesca stared at the screen. Her eyes welled up.

“Dave?”

“Yeah baby?”

“I got to go to my trumpet lesson but I’ll text you when I get back, ok?”

Francesca wiped her eyes.

“Ok, sweetie. No problem.”

“Hey, Dave? I love you!”

Francesca smiled.

“I love you too.”

Rachel logged off. Francesca stared at Rachel’s words. She admired them, soaking in their meaning like a flower soaks in the sun. If only those words were for her.

She logged off.

Rachel

"I love you." That's what she said. To both of them. And it was true, she loved them both.

But she knew she could only have one.

Rachel sat on her bed as she closed the lid on her laptop. She knew it was wrong to tell two different boys she loved them, but it was the truth. Davy was so sweet and caring, but Fred was so smart and witty. She didn't know how to choose between them. She was hoping the realization that she was bi would drive one of them away, that way she didn't have to make the difficult choice. But they both took it so well. She shouldn't of been surprised. David was so kind, and Fred was so cultured; how could they not understand?

"Honey," Mrs. Stein called, "We have to get going."

"Coming Mom!" Rachel called down. She jumped off of her bed and decided to leave the matter alone until the next day, when she was well-rested and could think more clearly on the matter.

In fifty words or fewer, I am asked to disturb. To horrify. To scare.

In fifty or fewer, you're expecting fear to widen your eyes and weaken your heart.

In fifty or fewer, I am supposed to frighten.

But I only need two:

Your face

There is no noise. There is no silence.

There is no light. There is no darkness.

I am dead, and there is only nothingness.

It is difficult to comprehend but I don't need to.

I am gone. Only the shell remains.

My inner being, my essence evaporated

Not into gas or air

But into nothing

Nothing at all

She stood on the porch, sweeping the dust from the house out onto the dusty driveway. Her fluffly black hair sprouted from her head like a rose in bloom, and her dark skin glistened in the sun. 

Decreptina. That's what they called her. The girl with the sunken face. There was a name for what she had. Something about Mongolia, Decreptina thought, but she didn't know what Mongolia had to do with her. She had never even been there. She had lived all her life, all sixteen and a half years, in a house up on a hill with ivy growing all over it, up all the way to the roof, which reached even over the giant oak. She loved the oak. She would sit on its branches, even the high up ones, and swing her feet and think. Think about the stories she would make up in her head, about fairies and magic and princesses. She sometimes pretended she was a princess, using her magical powers to fight for her kingdom and reclaim her throne. 

But she didn't have much time for that. Her mistresses, Lady Sibella, would usually call her in to get her soemthing or to clean up a spill. Often caused by one of her children. There was Lilianna, a pretty twenty-one year old girl who gave Decreptina her name. She took one look at her as a babe and said "She's ugly" and came up with the name Decreptina right on the spot. Lilianna's father, Lady Sibella's late husband, was so proud of how quick-witted his daughter was to think up suck a name so fast. Lilianna had a brother, a lad of fifteen named Lyle. He had shiny black hair, like his sister and mother, but it was short unlike theirs. He loved to break things in the house and get Decreptina to clean it up. He loved especially to break glass and stomp on Decreptina while she was cleaning it, causing her to get cuts all over her dark skin. 

"Decreptina!" Lady Sibella called with an angry, shrill voice. 

Decreptina jumped a bit, causing her to drop the broom, which landed with a thud on the wooden porch. Decreptina quickly picked up the broom and ran into the house. She found Lady Sibella and Lilianna sitting at the dining room table. 

"Yes Ma'am?" Decreptina asked. 

"Where is our tea?" Lady Sibella demanded. 

"Coming right away Ma'am. Very sorry  Ma'am." 

Decreptina ran off, into the closet to grab the leaves for the tea. She was searching for them when she heard the door close behind her. She turned around, and saw Lyle standing in front of the door, glaring at her in a way she had never seen before. It frigtened her, so much so she couldn't move. 

"Now," Lyle said as he licked his lips, "It's time."

Let me know if you like this and you want more! Thanks for reading. 

The Good Book says all boys must lose their foreskins, as a sacrafice to God. Therefore, all newborn boys' tiny penises are placed under a knife and sliced into until a small piece of skin is produced, all while blood pools and babies wail. 

The Good Book says women during their bleeding times are dirty and must be shunned. Therefore, women sleep in holes during their time of the month where they remain until the bleeding ends. 

The Good Book says that a man must marry a woman, and must reproduce. Therefore, when those of the same gender are in love, they must be shunned, stoned, segregated to preserve the sanctity of marriage. 

The Good Book says that non-believers are sinners. That they must be persuaded to join the faith or die. Therefore, people have set up large organizations to convert the world, using food, water, and shelter as leverage to force those in need into joining their religion. 

The Good Book speaks of a man named Jesus, who preached of love and acceptance. Of forgiving your neigherbor and inviting your enemies to dine with you. But, his followers were silent and chose to pursue parts of the Good Book that perhaps aren't so good. 

“Hi Dave!”

Felicia saw the message on her screen. Her fingers leaped over to the keyboard and typed faster than a crook on the run.

“Hey Rachel. What’s up, babe?”

“Not much. I have a lot of homework. So the usual. Lol. How about you, baby?”

“Same. Lol.”

“Lol. Hey baby, I have something to tell you.”

Tell me?

“Yeah, what is it sweetie?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“Promise.”

“Ok, here goes. Honey, I think I might be bi.”

Felicia held her breath. Her heart raced. She was shaking so badly it caused her long, blonde hair to quiver. Why was she getting so flustered? It was all a joke. Just something to do with Monica and Jessie. Making fun of the class nerd. Getting her to fall in love with someone she should know is way out of her league. Just planning to text her for one day only, and then leave her high and dry to sulk and cry all by herself. But Felicia knew it had become more than that. She started messaging her every week. Then, she started messaging her every day. Now, she was messaging her all the time. She was learning about Rachel. Seeing pictures of her dog, Spock, who was named after a character in Star Trek, a really cool but nerdy show she had Felicia, well Dave, watch. Finding out about the summer home where Rachel’s family used to go in Montauk, but had to sell since her mom lost her job. Being confided in when Rachel told her about the uncle who used to take her into his room, same as Felicia’s uncle did to her. Yes, this had become more to Felicia than just a game. But she was terrified to think of what it had become.

“Baby?”

Shoot. Felicia realized she must have been a thousand miles away.

“Yeah, sugar?”

“What do you think? Are you ok with this?”

Felicia looked at the screen. She responded.

“Of course baby! I love you no matter what!”

“Oh Dave! I love you too! No matter what!”

Felicia winced.

“Davy, I just want to let you know, you can tell me anything. Anything at all. And I’ll still love you. Always.”

Felicia stared at the screen. Her eyes welled up.

“Dave?”

“Yeah baby?”

“I got to go to my trumpet lesson but I’ll text you when I get back, ok?”

Felicia wiped her eyes.

“Ok, sweetie. No problem.”

“Hey, Dave? I love you!”

Felicia smiled.

“I love you too.”

Rachel logged off. Felicia stared at Rachel’s words. She admired them, soaking in their meaning like a flower soaks in the sun. If only those words were for her.

She logged off.

      I’m not afraid of bees. It’s true. I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t always like this. I’m not some kind of brave soul or anything. I just met one. That’s all. Let me explain.

      It started at a pool club one day. I was invited by a friend of my mother’s, who also happened to be the mother of my brother’s friend, to their country club. It was a fancy place, where they served salad with fresh avocado and quinoa at the snack bar. Anyway, it was a warm day, not too hot not too cold, not perfect swimming weather, but you don’t complain when asked to enjoy an afternoon in a place as ritzy as this. I wasn’t planning of swimming though. I just wanted to read my book, a nice, clean white copy of George Orwell’s 1984 (which I have yet to finish). But the water gleamed and sparkled invitingly and I was already in my bathing suit since everyone else was wearing one, so I decided to take a dip. The water was refreshingly cool. It glided over my skin like silk as I propelled myself forward in its gravity-defying embrace. I decided I had made the right decision, and was going to enjoy myself as long as I could in the pool. I swam to find an empty swimming lane, which was easy since there were only a small handful of people in the pool, and swim from side to side, taking breaks to admire the smooth water flowing over my arms and legs.

     It’s during one of these breaks that I noticed it. A tiny little bee. Not a cute bee, mind you, like a bumble bee, with its bushy, fuzzy, friendly body. But a wasp. A wasp with a small body, its curvatures and edges sharply defined, that screamed out to all who could see “Do Not Touch”. Bright school bus yellow and harrowing night sky black made it even more frightening. But this one was different. It had fallen into the water, and was struggling helplessly to get ashore, its tiny, pin-like pricks for legs furiously flailing about. It sharp body was crumpled, and its tiny translucent wings were beginning to fold. It only had a matter of time before it drowned. I watched it struggle, as I was thinking of what to do. I could help it, I thought, but it was a wasp, and the last thing I wanted was to cause a ruckus in this fancy establishment because I was screaming in pain over a bee sting. But then again, it was pretty helpless. Would it really sting me when it was literally dying? Would it even have the strength or sense to? I decided to get over my doubt, and help it the best I could. Slowly and carefully, I reached over to it. I positioned my fingers right above its tiny legs, and they grasped onto me, sticking to me as soon as they grabbed my finger. I then gently lifted it up, careful not to make any sudden movements and placed it on the buoyant divider that separated the pool into sections. It stayed there for a minute, and I felt proud of myself, perhaps unjustifiably so, for conquering my fear. Then, it fell back in. It did this several times, each time with me fishing it out again. Finally, I decided to bring it over to the edge of the pool, where it could rest and dry up before flying off and enjoying its happy, little life. But, the silly little thing kept trying to make its way into the pool, as if on a suicide mission it desperately wanted to complete. I saved it each time, and directed it back to safety. I watched it for a while, hoping to see it sprout up from its slump and take flight once more.

      That’s when my mom came by. She had come to say hi to me and dip her feet in the water (that’s the most swimming she does now). I told her about the wasp, and showed it to her. She took one look and said “It’s dying.” Dying? That never even occurred to me. It was down sure, but out for good? It didn’t even cross my mind. I was suddenly saddened. That puzzled me at first. It was only a bee, I thought, no reason to be sad. Bees die all the time. But this time, it felt different. I had worked so hard to save it. Put in more time than I think most give to bees in their life, other than beekeepers I suppose. It didn’t ruin my day or even the next twenty minutes of my life, but for a brief time, I felt sympathy for it and regretted that I couldn’t do more to help it. Eventually, I swum away, leaving it to either die on its own or miraculously fly off and live another day. I have a feeling it did the former, however.

     I don’t know why but now, whenever I see a bee, I don’t panic. I don’t try to run away. Every now and then I may shoo it, but for the most part, I leave it be. Even if it flies around me or lands on me, I leave it alone. I feel peaceful around them, in fact. I don’t know why. Maybe I feel a sense of report with them. I helped one of theirs, so they won’t bother me. Like a truce between two opposing gangs. Or maybe I just felt so close to the one in the pool, made a relationship with it, perhaps as close as a human and bee can get in a short period of time, and now I feel a sense of kinship with them all. Perhaps that’s just what happens when you have an encounter with something so unfamiliar. So different from what you are.

     My newfound comfort around bees has been very useful to me, especially upon entering my college career. My campus is overrun with flowers, so naturally the bees come as well. On early September days, when everyone else is frantically running about, trying to avoid bees that would most likely leave them alone anyway, I am calm and relaxed, able to go on with my day unfazed. I can let one land on me, and not be bothered. I can shoo one away from my food when eating outside without fear. Basically, I live my life more confidently, all because I found my connection to the enemy. To the great unknown. To a natural world we have estranged ourselves from. Perhaps we could all benefit from running towards the things that scare us away, and come to grips with things we’d never want to even touch

I'd never would have married you if I'd known you love me. If I'd known you would hug me and kiss me. If I'd known you would sit and watch my favorite movie with me even though you hated it. If I'd known you would cry when I told you our first child was on his way. If I'd known you wanted me for more than just my looks. 

You'd never have married me if you knew I didn't love you. If you knew what I was running from. If you knew how desperate I was. If you knew I just wanted the money. But you'll never know. I can't break your heart. You're too kind. Too sweet. Too loyal. Too loving. You'll never know how much I pine for another. How much I yearn to be free. We will grow old and I will grow sad, but your light will never fade. I will give you the happiness I could never have and let our children revel in it. You will be happy, they will be happy, and only one sad life will be sacrificed. 

I will never love you, but you will never know. 

Vera floated amongst the stars. The spacecraft growing smaller and smaller in the reflection of her helmet. There was no way to go back. She was in the grasp of the universe now. She drifted further and further away, out of the sight of the ship, out of the sight of the world. She was never seen again.