I love the sun I love it’s warm embrace I love the way it takes The tension from my bones And just burns it

I love the sun I love its glaring rays I love the way It soothes my eyes closed Even under the shade

I hate the sun I hate the way it burns And I hate the way It makes me yearn for it

I hate the sun I hate the way it Suffocates me Warms me Grazes me Makes me feel Loved I hate the way It mimics a god

I hate the way I concede to it I hate the way My eyes bow to it I hate the way it Sings me this Silent siren lullaby

I hate how its so kind I hate how I fall for it Every time

She knew it was coming. She had known it was coming for a while. She had felt it creeping closer; coming closer and closer and closer still. She could feel it now, breathing a premonitory fog. She could feel the scars of its phantom touch dragging across her skin, leaving disturbed flesh. She could feel it slowly change her into its perfect cradle.

It entered her home slowly. It had turned the door handle slowly; yet before she could blink, the door was open. It took its time moving through the house, slowly but not silently. In fact, it wasn't that subtle or silent at all. Certainly, not in the face of the suffocating silence. Sure, when she wasn’t looking at it, it seemed to fade into the background and become…numb. She could hear it, she could see it, but only just as much as she could hear or see anything else, if not less so. However, if she looked, she could sense it, she could see it, she could almost even feel it. Well, now, she definitely felt it. It seemed like the closer it got, the more she could feel it, make sense of it.

It looked so familiar; like so much she had seen before, but no longer saw. And what made it so familiar, yet so…unsettling? It came closer, and she could feel the fear in her heart. Well, not only fear. She could feel…something else, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. In fact, now, her emotions seemed to run away from her. They ran, father and father, as it got closer and closer, till it was standing over her. “Nothing left to feel now,” it said? “Nothing to fear,” she whispered back. And she smiled. And then, she screamed.

As soon as I take a breath, I know I’m dead. I can tell by the taste of the wind. It doesn’t taste bad or anything. It doesn’t taste sweet or salty or spicy or minty or anything. It’s just nothing. Not like water flavored nothing, just nothing. It feels-tastes so empty, void of anything at all. The wind picks up again and a nothing breeze starts to dance among the grass around me. That’s when I realize, I’m in a field. I don’t see anyone, or anything else there—just yards and yards of grass. It all reminds me of daydreams I used to have—a quiet field with a light, calming breeze. Except, my field of fantasy had flowers-lavenders-but this field showed no sign of life other than me, the grass, and the wind. I walked around for a while, or maybe it wasn’t a while , I couldn’t tell honestly. I saw nothing and no one but the grass. I felt the breeze, of course, but I could not see it. I began to wonder if this was some sort of punishment. What could I have done during my living to deserve this…void? But, no, I don’t think I did anything. From the small flickers of memory I had, it didn’t seem like I was a particularly bad person. I lived…somewhere, and ran a coffee?, no tea, shop. Maybe I poisoned people or something? Whatever, not that any of that matters now I guess. There is then a sudden rustle in the grass. “You,” said the thing. “Yes?” I responded. “What are you doing Here?” It rasped. “Well, I am dead, aren’t I?” The thing squinted at me, “I see,” and then mumbled something I couldn’t understand before speaking up again. “Go to sleep Alex” Huh. I guess that was my name. “Why,” I asked with a yawn. “You are tired, aren’t you?” Yes, I realized, I was very tired. So tired, in fact, I decided it was time for a nap. “Goodnight thing” The thing started to respond but I closed my eyes before i could make out what it said.

Everything is so loud. I can’t stop thinking. My thoughts are racing by me and I can’t seem to hold on to any. There are too many things to think and to stress about. I can’t help returning to the phrase: so many things to do, but so little time to do it. I have work to do, hobbies I want to pursue, and a future to stress about. I never know what to focus on. It’s always one thing at a time, but will I ever be able to reach the point of not having anything. Just silence. No work, nothing to do at all. I can’t trust myself to drown in my thoughts so I drown them out with other things. Music, reading, art, TV, YouTube—whatever I can get my hands on to distract me from…everything. Based on this, you’d think I’d like silence, boredom, to have nothing to do. But, no, that just makes everything seem louder than it already is. Sometimes, my mind feels like a prison. I feel trapped by the noise I can never escape. I’m stuck, always stuck in this cycle of noise and stress with only moments of distraction before I am thrown in the cycle again. I want to escape—runaway from everything, but that would just create more problems and stress and noise. I can’t deal with that. I don’t-I don’t know what to do. My kind seems so all consuming, so loud. It surrounds me and drowns me in its noise. Any yet, reality would still mock the mind for its tameness.

I’ve never seen a place that could exclude such luxury and comfort yet feel so unerving. Onyx black marble walls surrounded me and whispered warnings of their owner: “Careful,” they whispered, “upsetting him would destin worse then your demise”. Or perhaps those were just my own thoughts? Do the walls know what I think? Can they hear what I feel?! Are-Do they— “I’ve seen you’ve made it, good.” Hades’ statement had shaken e out of my…pondering. Huh, I hadn’t even realized I arrived in the—I glanced around for a second—courtroom? Hades was sitting atop a deep purple throne made of some shiny, hard looking material. Stone? Whatever it was, it didn’t look…normal. The purple colors started to look more navy blue then hot pink then— “…correct?” Shoot, I got distracted again. “Uhh, could you repeat that Ha-Lord Hades?” I stirred eloquently. Hades raised and eyebrow and repeated the question: “Just Hades is fine. You are Tom Harold, yes?” I nodded in response. “Good. Tom, I hope you are aware that you have upset your mother very much.” “I..what?” “Your mother, Life, she has been very upset with your actions recently. Not just your of course, really she’s upset with a lot of you but, we’ll, it’s easier to talk to you one at a time,” Hades replied waving his hand. I made a noise (squeak) of confusion but Hades barreled on. “We both figured, I would be better at helping you all though, for obvious reasons….” Hades trailed off a bit. “Anyways, the point is,” Hades said seriously “you have forsaken the gift life his brought you.” Hades held up a hand before I could reply. “I understand there are circumstances, but you must right your path before you end up…derailing. I can’t give too many details—Destiny would have my hide—but I will also not sit and watch my children suffer. You all will make your way to me in time, but please do not make the journey up to that point so painful for yourself,” Hades slips in to a bit of a pleading tone before straightening his spine. Oh, is he waiting for me to respond? How am I supposed to respond to that? How am I supposed to feel about that? OMG, Hades, and Life apparently, both think I’m ‘heading down the wrong path’?! Am I skewered? Does that mean I’m sleeted? How am I even supposed to “right my path,” anyway?! “I fear this is too much for you to process…” Hades said. “Perhaps, Life was right..maybe I should have eased you in more…” Hades mumbled. “Oh well,” Hades exclaimed; standing up and clapping his hands together. “Heed my warning mortal, or you will be seeing me again sooner than you wish.” Hades made a shooing motion and I felt myself start to…move? “I-Wait-but-wha-“ I didn’t even manage to get the last word out before I was back where I started—invitation in hand, sitting at my desk, in my dingy old apartment—shoot.

Seju pinched out a bit of Titan moon dust into their tea cup. To make the moon dust truly last, they had to ration it carefully. After all, there was only so much moon dust in the tiny blue bottle. Tage, the producer of this specific type of moon dust, only produced the moon dust in small (and expensive) portions. Next, Seju poured cool water over the moon dust, then stirred it slowly. Joron, Seju’s roommate, walked into the kitchen. “I’m surprised you don’t find moon dust gathering unethical,” Joron commented. Seju looked up from their task to peer at Joron. “You’re from Dione, right? One of Saturn’s moons? Don’t companies like Tage destroy moons through moon dust gathering?” Joron asked. “Well…yes,” Seju replied, “But Tage is……less problematic than most other companies. They, at the very least, only take moon dust from Titan, Saturn’s largest moon. It isn’t the best….but, I guess I just live with it.” “What about fake moon dust? Y’know, the stuff that’s supposed to mimic moon dust.” “It’s ok in dire situations, but they’re far from a viable solution. The ones I’ve had produced mixed results. Some hardly work, and even if they do, only for short periods of time. To be honest, it’s easier, and safer, to just use moon dust.” Joron nodded at Seju’s explanation but looked dejected. “Yeah….the situation isn’t…great, but it’s what we have right now,” Seju said with a grimace. “Don’t get me wrong, I know moon dust gathering must stop, and soon. I never want anyone to have to face what I did. I mean, losing your home, your family, friends….it-it’s not easy. Dione, my home, was destroyed because of moon dust gathering. It [moon dust gathering] wore away at Dione until it…well, broke. Even with the warning signs, it seemed to happen so suddenly. No one wanted to believe they were going to lose their home, so most Diones just ignored the warnings. That’s why so many were unprepared when it finally happened, why so many died when Dione broke. I managed to escape…not many did.“

I don’t know how long it’s been since then. It had to be long enough for me to run out of food and water supplies. Long enough that my last set of clothes to rip wear thin. Long enough for my shoes to grow holes and my feet gain blisters. But not long enough to stop grieving those I had lost—my brother, my father, my stepdad—no, it had been long enough to fully grieve nor forget them. Though I can feel their presence slowly fading into a memories…. I didn’t know why still survived—still tried to run from the horror of it all. Did it really matter, anyway? I know I’ll die, soon enough so is there any point in going on? Everything and everyone I love—loved—is long gone… Why should I have to suffer while they’re gone? Why do I have to…have to stay here….alone. I haven’t seen anything living for…well, I don’t know how long… I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway. Even if I did find anyone, they would leave or die eventually—just like the rest of them.

"Hey," Brenda said with a wave, "Karma from Tinder, right?" "Yeah, and that means your-" "Brenda, yep, that's me..." she replied awkwardly. Karma was wearing a short black dress with white flower embroidery. It had short sleeves-to show off her tattoo, Brenda guessed. The dress complimented her long black hair and olive skin. Karma wore striking red lipstick and faint black eyeshadow. She was...well, she was really pretty-enough to make Brenda's cheeks feel like they were on fire. "Right, so you wanna head to the restaurant?" Karma asked. "Yeah, sure."

(Karma and Brenda walk to the restaurant and order food)

" You mentioned that you were a tattoo artist. Did you do the tattoo on your arm?" "You mean the one of the pie?" Karma pointed to the tattoo on her right arm. Brenda nodded. "No, I um got it done by an old friend of mine." Karma smiled softly as she began to explain the tattoo. "It's actually a blueberry pie...it reminds me of my old town. Before moving to the city, I lived in a pretty small town. You know, small businesses, coffee shops and all that. I used to go to this diner like every day. It served the best pie in town. This tattoo...it uh reminds me of my time there." Brenda hummed thoughtfully. "You miss your old town?" "Yeah, but I live in the city now and it's pretty great. Sure, I miss some things from back then, but there are some things I won't miss, you know? Two sides of every coin and all that. But enough about me, you said you were a florist, right? Tell me more about that.

(Brenda happily told Karma about her job-noting that Karma's favorite flowers were carnations-and Karma, in turn, told Brenda more about being a tattoo artist. They talked and ate happily for the rest of their date and departed in good spirits -the promise of a second date in the air.)

"SLOW DOWN!" "Slow down? We're in the middle of a car chase, no way in hell I am slowing down!" "Well at least try and follow basic road safety laws!" "Did you not hear me? We're in the niddle of a car chase!" "Car chase. Oh my God, dont remind me. Why did I agree to this again?" "Because Paulina, you are my best friend and support me in all my life decisions; including stealing a car and running away from the cops." "We are sooo getting arrested." "Don't worry, we'll lose the cops soon enough." "Yeah, with your excellent driving and manovering skills." "C'mon my driving isn't that bad." "Yes! Yes it is!"

[EDITED] Jamie was screwed. They were completely and utterly done for. Why is Jamie so screwed? How did they end up in such a terrible situation? Well, it all started when Jamie was looking for a job...

Jamie, a broke college student, decided the best way to earn money was to apply to work as a housekeeper at the Davidsons' mansion. The Davidsons' were a rich family who came from old money. The Davidsons’ who owned the mansion were Rose and Roger Davidson, as well as their son, Marcus Davidson. At face value, it seemed like a decent job opportunity. Well, it has a good pay, at least. Plus, Jamie was desperate; they had debts to pay.

When Jamie arrived at the Davidsons', they was greeted by one of the Davidsons' butlers. "Goodmorning, Jamie. It's nice to see you've arrived on time," the butler extended one of his hands in greeting. Jamie shook it. "Good morning to you as well..." "Craig, Craig Lane, but you can just call me Craig," he replied. Craig led Jamie inside the mansion. Soon after entering, Jamie was met by a set of large stairs, which led up into another room. "So, how long have you been working here, Craig?" Jamie attempted to make conversation. "A couple of years. Though, that’s not long, compared to some of the other workers here." "Really?" Jamie said, surprised. "Yes,” Craig didn’t elaborate further. "As you know, while serving as a housekeeper, you'll live here, in the Davidsons' mansion, along with me and the rest of the servants," Craig said, nodding at Jamie's suitcase. "I will show you to your room later. For now, I will give you a short tour of the mansion." Craig guided Jamie further into the entrance hall and began to point out various rooms in the house. "In front of you is the Great Hall, which is mainly used for official meetings and parties." "These steps over here," Craig said, pointing to the right, "go upstairs. There is also another set of stairs in the coat room that lead upstairs." Craig lead Jamie down a hallway till they reached a small set of stairs. "On the left is the breakfast room and on the right is the dining room." J’aie followed Craig up the small set of stairs into another hallway. "Left is the indoor garden--which also leads to outside." "To the right is an empty room. Mrs. Davidson is undecided on its use.” Jamie is lead further down the hallway. “To the right is the pantry which holds the walk-in refrigerator and linen room.” A bit further down the hallway. “On your left is the servant's dining room--this is where you'll be eating. On your right, is the kitchen, which also leads into the pantry." Continuing a little further the hallway expanded. Craig showed Jamie the laundry room. Then, Craig led Jamie back towards the entrance and up the stairs to the grand hall. Next, he led Jamie to the right into another room. "This is the living room which leads into the courthouse and the terrace. And if you turn to the left, you'll be greeted by a beautiful view from the bay windows. It is a wonderful place to relax if you find the time." Craig led Jamie out of the living room to the stairs near a coat closet. Craig and Jamie walked upstairs. "Directly in front is Mr. Marcas' room and to the right are Mr. and Mrs. Davidson's room. As a housekeeper, you are in charge of overseeing general duties, including cleaning and repairs. However, the Davidsons' personal rooms are managed by their butlers, so you don’t need to worry about them." "So you're one of the Davidsons' butlers?" Jamie asked. "Yes, I am Mr. Marcus' personal butler. This floor is mainly the Davidsons' rooms, including a few personal rooms--such as Mr. Marcas' sewing room. There are two guest rooms, as well, father down.” Craig led Jamie to another staircase. "This staircase leads to the third--and final--floor," Craig said as he walked up the stairs. "Up here, are several guest bedrooms, closets, and baths. As well as, a game room, but it’s further down the hall." Craig then turned to the left and headed up a small set of stairs. "This is the servants’ quarters. It has 5 bedrooms, bathrooms, closets, storage, and a laundry chute. Note that most of the servants don't stay here full-time, such as the maids. The live-in servants are me, the head chef--Amanda--, Mr. Davidson's personal butler--Bernie--, Mrs. Davidson's personal butler--Pascal--, and…”Craig turned towards Jamie, "...you, the new housekeeper." Craig as he turned back around, and lead Jamie to the end of the hall. "On the right is your room and mine directly across the hall." Craig turned to Jamie again. "I’ll wake you in the morning (tomorrow) for breakfast. For now, you can unpack. Have a good night," Craig said with a dismissive nod. "Goodnight to you as well." Jamie said in turn. (word count limit)