I didnt always look the way i do now. I actually used to be quite handsome. I had the perfect golden curls. Blue eyes that shone like clear lakes. A perfect nose, full lips, and a working body. I was vain and a stupid kid. I did stupid stuff like all kids did. I dated around with girls and i drank even though i was underage. I even tried drugs once or twice. Then there was the incident. The thing that altered everything. That took me from a stupid, vain kid into someone completely different. A friend i went to high school with had gotten a mororbike. It went super fast and he was learning to do tricks on it. It was so cool. I of course went riding with him a bunch. We sped down freeways and late at night down the main street. Being on the motorbike felt freeing. We could go anywhere and at any speeds. I never told anyone i was going with him. We were invisible yet everyone heard us coming. I could yell and scream as loudly as i wanted. My mom always shook her head at motorbikes. Said they were reckless and dangerous and just plain useless. She had never been on one of course. She didn’t know how you could get anywhere at anytime. One day it, it was a friday and it had just finished a week straight of rain. My buddy was itching to get on the road and asked me to go with him. I said yes, so excited to get out. I had spent the week helping my mom clean the house and fix it up a bit. We met at a store that had closed down a few years back. People used it to meet for car shows and racing at night. It was virtually empty during the day. It was out of the way and mostly used for car handjobs by teens. I parked my car near the entrance to the store and waited until my buddy got there. I jumped out and my foot splashed in a puddle. The sun was out, but there was a slight chill in the air. We greeted each other with fist bumps and i hop on the back of the bike. He takes off as soon as my butt hits the seat. Quickly getting up to speeds of 80 miles per hour. It’s honestly a bit scary going this fast and feeling thevwind pelting your body. But i do my usual cheering and yelling. He goes up behind the store. Taking the curves like a champ. Water splashes our legs as he hits puddles. Then the unthinkable happens. He hits a puddle and the bike loses traction on the road. We can both feel the bike losing control. My buddy curses and im so shocked, my hands immediately let go of him. My biggest regret from that day is my hands slipping off him. The bike starts sliding and with nothing holding me to the seat, i fly off the back. My body hits the road hard and I’m immediately knocked out. From the injuries i sustained, doctors say i must have slid at least 20 feet along the road. I had road rash all over my body. As the bike slid, my buddy pushed himself off and landed on the side of the road. Soft woodchips and dirt compared to the hard asphalt that ravaged my body. I made the wrong decision. My buddy got a few scrapes and a bumped head. My nose was broken. Both ankles broke. I had road rash on 70 percent of my body. I was scalped. Debris got into my eyes and mouth. I came to about a week later. The first thing i noticed was the pain. My entire body was on fire. I woke and immediately started groaning and crying. I was sedated almost immediately. Next time i awoke, everything was groggy. It felt like i was underwater. My parents were there. My little sister was there. I had to re-learn to walk. I had to get multiple surgeries to fix my road rashed skin. My hair didn’t grow back when it was rubbed off. I was miserable. I never saw my buddy again. He avoided me, even when my parents went after him for money. He paid them off and disappeared. I eventually made new friends from physical therapy and groups i joined. My family helped me a lot. The incident changed me. It not only changed my physical appearance, but my personality as well. I dont take as many risks. Im kinder. I take notice of people i wouldnt have before. The incident was horrible to endure, but it all turned out for the best.

Lets start with the hair. When i met her, her hair was blonde. Now she dyes it a dark red and keeps it oh so long. Her eyes are a blue that both clash with the dark red, yet compliment it so well. There are freckles on her face and acne too. The imperfections make her look real. Her facial features are dainty. So feminine. Her nose and mouth are small. Her lips turned up in smiles and jokes. Always trying to make me laugh. Her personality is what wins me over in the end. I’m glad she’s my roommate.

There was this beautiful young couple. The whole town awaited their engagement, they were so perfect together. The woman had long brown hair that went to her waist. She had blue eyes and a slim build. She wore modest clothes, skirts to her ankles and long sleeve tops. The man had blonde curly hair and blue eyes. He had a straight white smile and was a hard worker. The man worked at a newspaper stand, printing papers and selling them. The woman worked at a toy store selling things to families. She always thought of having her own one day. The woman’s greatest possession was her hair. She loved how long and shiny it was. People always complimented her on it. The man’s greatest possession was a gold watch that belonged to his grandfather. It was old but sturdy. Plus it reminded him of his grandfather who was long gone. They used to hunt together and his grandfather taught him a lot about life. They lived together for five months before Christmas came around. The man adored his girlfriend and the woman adored her boyfriend. They both wanted to give them the best gifts for Christmas. The man knew hisvwife loved her hair. He wanted to give her a beautiful scarf to wear on her head. He had seen an orange and red one that made him think of fall. It would make his girlfriends hair shine. It was fancy though. $50 for a piece of fabric. The woman knew the man loved his watch. She had been from place to place but nothing came close to making the watch shine. She thought of getting it a golden band to slip on his wrist. Finally, she found the shop that would help her. A tiny shop run by an old lady who smelled of tobacco and spices. The lady wanted $50 for her services. The man worked hard every day. He sold twice the amount of papers he usually did. Unfortunately the people buying papers were stingy. He barely got any tips. The woman sold toys left and right. She worked long hours and often came home exhausted. Her boyfriend glady snuggled her and made her hot tea and rubbed her feet. She was barely making enough to save anything for the band. It was finally Christmas Eve and they were at their deadline. The man was a few dollars short for the scarf. He headed to the pawn shop with old jewelry from his mother. He thought it would be enough. The woman only had half the money for the woman. She took all her money she had and went to the small shop. When the man went to the pawn shop, he learned the jewelry wasnt real. It was worth almost nothing. The man was so disappointed. The woman was his whole life. He needed the scarf. He looked at his watch, the store closed in an hour. Then he had an idea. The watch was real gold. He pawned it off and had enough money for the scarf plus a pair of nice earrings. On the other side of town, the woman was fretting with what to do. That gold band was perfect for the gold watch, but she did not have the money. Finally, she entered the old woman’s store. The oldvwoman greeted her and produced the perfect gold band. Simple yet gorgeous. The woman said it was perfect, but she had no money. The old woman thought for a moment before deciding on her payment. The two lovers met at their house with the gorgeous gifts wrapped up. They couldn’t even wait for Christmas. They hadbto exchange the presents right after dinner. The woman went first. The man opened his gift. The gold band. He smiled and held it up to the light. He then slipped it on his wrist. The woman noticed that the watch wasn’t on his wrist. He then admitted that he pawned the watch, but was going to buy it back. He just really wanted this gift for his love. Then the woman opened her gift. The scarf and matching earrings. They were gorgeous as she clutched them to her chest. She then pulled back her hood. The man knew something was off. The womans hair was slightly curled and dull and graying. He asked if she was ok and she let out a cackle. You see, the woman couldn’t pay. The old woman had found the price she must pay. Her life, for a simple gold band. The woman was slumped in the store, now an abandoned storefront. The old woman took her place. The man just thought she was overworked. The witch took over the womans life. She married the man. She worked at the toy shop and eventually opened her own store. A shop that sold homemade sauces and spices. She colored her hair weekly so it was shiny and brown. She wore the scarf and earrings. The woman’s body, by the time it was found, was bones. No one ever knew that the old woman was actually thevwoman. She got to live a long full life before she grew old. The man eventually died and the old woman opened a new shop. One to buy gifts for others. At a price of course. Now, what is your life worth?

They say that your friends always have more friends than you do. It is an interesting paradox that has baffled many. I feel like it isnt true for me though. I have a ton of friends. In middle school, i was actually voted most popular. Like 90 percent of the class voted for me. I’m no Regina George or anything. I don’t gain friends through fear. I do things to help people. I join clubs. I talk to new kids and people i don’t know yet. I make it my mission to be nice to everyone. How can you be hated when you are kind to every person you meet? High school was a whole different story. There were five middle schools that went to one high school. They were small, so each class has 500 kids in it. There were 4 other kids voted most popular, 2 boys and 2 girls. One was Frank Zinley. He was a basketball player the girls at his school adored. He flirted with any girl he saw. Then there was Bryan Allen. He threw house parties that rivaled anything seen in Hollywood movies. He had a creepy older cousin who bought weed and beer for Bryan in exchange for going to the parties. He managed to snag a young girl at every party. One girl was Anna Klein. She was gorgeous and mean. People feared her. She had money and could buy friends or ruin their lives. There was also Tatiana Banksing. She was loud and always cracking jokes. She loved making people laugh and had a smile that drew people to her. It was definitely difficult being one of the five popular people in high school. It helped being the nicest. It helped that i had a cute girlishness about me. The older grades did not care about five populars. They only wanted one to reign over everyone when they graduated. The basketball guys had Frank sitting with them. Bryan sat with the stoners. Tatiana sat with the gorgeous Black queens. Anne and i were both invited to sit with the other populars. It was nervewracking and exciting all at once. I was my usual nice self. Anna felt compelled to mock every person that walked past. The senior popular girl was named Mallory and seemed uninterested in both of us, even though she was the one to invite us. At the end of the week, we recieved an envelope in our lockers. It was a popularity rating scale. It said it judged how successful we would be based on looks, personality, smarts, and our following. For looks i got a 6 out of 10. Ouch. For personality i got a 10/10 and smarts got me an 8/10. My following was at a 5/10. The summary said i was a typical nice girl and would hit it off with nerds and boring people. I needed to up my following and spend more time on my looks to be a successful popular. I heard from others that Anna got a 2/10 for personality, a 8/10 for looks, a 4/10 for smarts, and a 7/10 for following. She needed to study more and worry less about judging others. This meant, to me, that we were on an even playing field. I had a better personality while Anna was hotter. I could change my looks much easier than Anna could be less mean. As high school went on, my popularity grew. I tutored for money and spent that money on makeup and clothes and better haircuts. I ended up dating a really good baseball player. Anna tried being nicer. She studied hard and smiled at everyone. The studying actually lost her friends as she spent less time out and about. I had the most friends i had ever had. I was like the friend collector. None of that matters much now. I graduated as most popular and most likely to become a lawyer. I excelled in any debate and helped young people take in interest in elections. I went to Yale and then applied to go to Harvard Law. I got accepted of course. Anna graduated and went on to study nursing. Halfway through law school, the unthinkable happed. My muscle function started to decrease greatly. I started using a cane, i had to record lectures. Then i could no longer walk or talk. Turns out, i was having mini strokes every day. My body became weak from trying to fight them off and the clots caused my muscles to weaken. I was essentially losing the function of my body every day until i died. Being sick becomes a full time gig. I tried going to school with modifications. I missed a lot because of surgery to fix the strokes. That was the main concern. I gained my speech back with extensive therapy that took the place of any homework. I only had a year left of school and wanted so badly to finish. My mom stopped working to drive me places. I could barely stop myself from going to the bathroom, much less drive a car. I quit school because i was failing everything. Not because my brain stopped working, but because my health took precedence. I did therapy in the mornings. Speech, physical, mental. Then i did appointments in the afternoon. I rested my tired aching body in between. I became depressed. Friends stopped coming around much. It was sad to see most popular girl in high school reduced to this. Girl in a wheelchair who took minutes to get a sentence out. Being popular meant nothing anymore. People moved on without me. I realized as i grew older that everyone had more friends than me. Even my parents. I became the crippled recluse. The sad case of popular gone downhill. I didn’t peak in high school, i had such a bright future. Unfortunately my body decided to give up on that future. I still have the strokes, just not often. My muscles are still weakening. One day I won’t be able to talk or move at all on my own or even think. I will be a complete vegetable. Each stroke may be my last. The important thing is that i’m living now. Ive done incredible things since i got ill. I’ve rolled along the great wall, ive seen the great barrier reef. I’ve been to the bottom of the grand canyon and the top of the Empire State Building. I’ve protested in DC and helped teach in Pakistan. I could be a lawyer now, suing mega corporations, but Ive done actual amazing things. I’m here talking to people about popularity and my illness. Im truly doing great and i cant imagine a different path. Thank you.

I bite the hand that feeds me So maybe it’ll let me starve. Day in and day out, Staring at the outside world, Wondering if i’ll ever be able to see Or feel Or taste Or touch it. Stuck in my room With my mother and father. Feeding me And bathing me And tutoring me Because I can’t do it on my own. I can only move my head And my hands Due to a severe injury during birth. Every day I look out my window And see a world That barely knows i even exist. When i was 5, I watched children riding trikes. When i was 8, I saw kids playing football And jump rope in the street. When i was 13, I saw kids walking to school. Now i’m 16, And see the kids learning to drive. I don’t want to live like this Anymore. I either want to go outside Or be dead. I yell at my mother The best i can. I’m ignore my father As he tries his best for me. I feel a little guilty. For sixteen years They have made me their whole life. Nothing is done Without me in mind. Dad works from home And mom… Mom. Mommy. I cant think Just do. I have to break free From this prison My body has put me in. I just hope They will forgive me And move on with their life. I have to pull away now. Be so intolerable That they want me gone. Then their wish Will come true And everyone Is Happy.

I pass by my bathroom mirror multiple times a day. I never look in it though. In fact, i had covered it long ago. When i first got sick. When i was eleven, i was a chunky kid. I loved ice cream and french fries and burgers and pizza. The usual kid food. Then one day, some girls from school posted pictures of my face on a cows body. I was mortified. The girls got in major trouble, but the damage was done. People called me Cowthy. Cuz my name is Cathy. That night i waited until my parents went to bed before i went on the desktop computer in our den. I was looking for diets. They couldn’t call me Cowthy if i wasn’t big. That is when i found a site called Ana Rexie. It was a pro Anorexic site. People posted the best tips and tricks when it came to diet and exercise. I cleared the history but remembered the name. Every night i went down after my parents went to bed and visited Ana Rexie. I used every trick i found and even posted calories eaten and pounds lost. By the end of the school year, i had lost 50 poinds. I was weighing 80 pounds. I thought i could lose more. I never realized that i was quite literally skin and bones. I was sent away that summer, right before seventh grade. To a hospital that treated eating disorders. I gained twenty pounds back. Twenty pounds of fat that sat in my face and stomach and arms. It took a lot of ups and downs to get where i am today. Im at a healthy 120 pounds. I went to two more treatment centers. I tried to stop eating, but was caught. Ana Rexie got shut down when i was fourteen. I covered my bathroom mirror and my parents got rid of every scale in the house. It helped with my healing a lot. It helped to not see myself every day. I still look at myself in public bathrooms. I still judge myself when i look in the mirror. I still hear the kids calling me Cowthy. I still live at home, even though i graduated a year ago. I go to community college and want to become a nurse. My parents are now always worried about me. They monitor what i eat. Sometimes, when i look in the mirror, i still see that chunky eleven year old girl. Sometimes i peek behind the covering and sneak a glimpse of my face next to a picture. A picture of a cow with my face pasted on it. Sometimes when i look in the mirror, i see a healthy beautiful nineteen year old woman. I try not to but sometimes i cant help but to look in the mirror.

Sammie Langston was a girl of wealth. Her mothers mothers mothers mother had helped found one of the biggest college in their town. She was the first woman to graduate college in their town. She became a business woman who became president of a boarding school outside town. Then she opened the college. Sammie’s family gained much wealth from the college. Sammie’s great grandmother was a dean at the college. Sammies grandmother oversaw the advisors. Sammies mother had been on every major committee. Then there was Sammie. She had graduated high school and was going to said college. She was getting her degree in biology as it was her best subject. Sammie was a very bright girl. She was also quite spoiled. Her mother and father lived in a huge house only a few miles from the campus. They had housekeepers and chefs and drivers. Sammie had a wardrobe full of designer clothes. Her father was a lawyer for the college and had gotten Sammie a Mercedes for her sixteenth birthday. It was expected that she graduated college. Everyone in her family had. She was no exception as the oldest child of her parents. She also had a younger sister who spent her days downtown with her friends and boyfriend. Sammie did her schoolwork and did things she considered hard work. In the afternoons, she did tennis. On Sunday mornings she did yoga. She occasionally dropped in on committee meetings with her mother. She ran a charity to help poor people get access to clothes for jobs. It was a lot of work. Despite all this work, Sammie had never actually had a job before. The college was free, her parents bought her everything she needed. A job would just add unnecessary stress. She was a very pretty girl, she couldn’t ruin her looks with stress. She saw the college kids her age who were stressed. Dark bags, frown lines, acne, unkempt hair, hunched backs?! No thank you. Sammie looked in her floor length mirror after her shower one day. Her brown eyes were sparkling. Her brown hair was shiny and starting to curl. Her mocha skin was blemish free. She chose an outfit, mini skirt and long sleeve top, to wear for dinner and studying with her best friend. Her best friend was Alice Coolly. She went to college with her and she was an oil heiress. Once a week the two of them ordered dinner and studied at Alice’s apartment. Sammie lived at home and Alice’s family lived in Dubai, so Alice had a huge penthouse downtown. Obviously they were going to drink champagne and eat take out Mediterranean food while Alice worked on marketing research and Sammie read her biology textbook. That day, Sammie got home from Alice’s house and threw her belongings on the ground. She would go up to her room that night with everything neatly put back. Thania, their housekeeper, had been with them since Sammie was in middle school. She knew how all the Langston’s liked their things. Sammie plopped herself into a chair and scrolled through her phone. She makes sure to turn her phone off during studying so she has to catch up. Her English professor sent the book they were going to write for the midterm. The social committee was planning a winter dance. Her study group for math was trying to get together. Her tennis buddies were talking about competing in a tennis tournament in a few weeks. She spent the next hour of her time texting people back. Then her father came home from work and told the family to meet in the kitchen. Sammie sighed and sat at her usual seat at the table. Her little sister, Ellie, sat across from her. Her hair was cut in a cute long bob and her nails looked freshly manicured. Their mother sat at the foot of the table and their father at the head. That’s when he dropped a bomb on the girls. He wanted them to start working. He pulled up a picture he had recieved on his phone. Ellie and her friends at high end stores, putting small trinkets in their pockets. Small gems and rings and pens. Sammie glared at her sister. Stealing? Really? Ellie started to cry at the thought of working while her friends got to lounge around. Their father said he would not raise menaces. He would not have to see them in court, being accused of crimes. He said he had gotten them both jobs at the country club. Ellie would be working at the smoothie bar. Sammie would be a hostess at the bistro. He said it was to keep them out of trouble and learn to be responsible. He also said that the money they earned would be all they were allowed to use to buy things like new clothes and food. The next Monday, Sammie was driven to the country club. She was to work on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from noon until four. She had to wear a white shirt and black slacks. Her hair also had to be tied up. The first day felt like a disaster. She filled a section with no server. She threw a whole bin of sodas away on accident. She even closed the door on an older ladys finger. She had never been so exhausted in her life. Ellie worked weekends and came home on her first day covered in green smoothie. She had forgotten the top to the blender. Their dad sat with them every evening with a smug look on his face. Their mother drank more wine but let this absurdity go on. As the days passed, Sammie got better at her job. She spent mornings in class and afternoons at work. She did her homework in the evenings and made new tennis buddies on the weekend. She felt she related more with the other kids that had to work than with her rich friends. She tried attending committee meetings, but realized she’d rather spend her time at work. She liked her coworkers and liked seeing a healthy paycheck every other week. Ellie ended up getting fired from the smoothie stand after a few months for giving away free smoothies. Her dad had given up and she went back to her friends. Sammie graduated with her biology degree and ended up working at a research lab at the college. She ended up finding a drug that slowed down Parkinsons disease. She got married to a man from her college bistro job and had two girls. Ellie went to college for a bit, but was kicked out after an arrest for grand theft auto. She was cut off from the family but married an older man from the country club. She had a son with him and when the man died, she moved to London and married a pop star. The college ended up getting run by another founder’s descendant. Sammie still donated a lot of time and money to the college, so her family still had stock in it, but they weren’t required to make any decisions about it. Unfortunately, as Sammie reached middle age, the college shut down. The new owners ran it dry. It was a great piece of history and ended up becoming a community college owned by the state. Sammie learned to work and found herself in the process.

I was 13 Barely in high school I had a friend Lets call her Belle. We lived near each other Barely five minutes apart So of course we walked home together. Past the creek Through the trees Up a hill Home. She was exciting. Extroverted And fun And new. One day she asked to stop at a bench. Secluded And lonely With not much foot traffic. She rooted through her bag While I sat and watched. Out she pulled a pack Of Marlboro Reds Only one cigarette used. She offered me one And who was i to say no. She lit it I sucked in, Coughing, Eyes watering And she smiled Asking if it was my first time. I nodded Between coughs And watery eyes. Eventually finishing the whole thing. We kept walking home, Cigarette break in the middle. Kids our age stared And judged. I didn’t care though. I had Belle And her never ending supply of smokes. I felt rebellious And cool And exciting. After all, I was 13.

Everybody knows of that house. The one on top of the hill. Vines growing from the walls and the musky scent of emptiness. Dares from kids, seeing who is brave enough to go in. They claim its haunted or possessed. If only it were that simple. Stay more than one night, and the house will kill you. Choked or stabbed or simply swallowed whole. I should know. My whole family disappeared there.

I stare at the love of my life. My collection of old books. Books that went out of print long ago. Books that were written before anyone alive was even born. My babies. I didn’t always have this wonderful collection. I got my first old book when i had just turned 18. It was a graduation present from my grandfather. It had been passed down from grandfather to grandson since the 1800s. I reveled in the fancy lettering and yellowed pages. The genuine leather cover. Every stain of tears and every dog eared page. It was like going to another world. After that, i started my collection. I went to antique stores and flea markets. Browsed Ebay and Craigslist. I went to college part time and worked full time. At first it was at Dennys, then Ikea, then a small bookstore, then an antique shop. I had finally got my own big girl job. Assistant to a literary agent. It was my in to a world of books. Although i chose books most of these people had never even heard of. “A book on horses” and “giveth me light” and “Utopia guidebook” were all titles on my shelf. Once I had worked at the job for a year, i could afford my own house. A small three bedroom place, on the outskirts of the city. I spent many weekend converting one of the bedrooms into a library. I hooked shelves up to the walls. Then put in a small table and comfy chairs. Blackout curtains on the windows to reduce sunlight to protect my loves. I added string lights and pillows and blankets. It was the nicest room in the whole house. I made sure to dust them every day. I would spend most of my free time just reading them. In the attic of my house, i stored all my book restoration supplies. If the covers cracked or the spines got loose, i could fix it. I eventually got around to dating. I could afford to spend a few hours a week away from my books. The dates never got far though. I never slept over at others houses. I spent most of my free time with my books. There was one man who got close to me. He even stayed the night once a week. He admired my dedication to my books. We had plans of getting married one day. Of having children. I should have known it was all a lie. Each time he spent the night, he took pictures of my books. He put them up on the internet. There were museums and private collectors that were interested in my babies. One night i came home to my door wide open. I ran in without a second thought. Everything looked okay. My tv was still there. My jewelry in my room. Then i got to my library. The sight of it broke my heart. Over half my collection was gone. The shelves looked so bare. The one my grandfather got me was missing, and he had long since passed. I immediately gathered the 100 or so books I had left and immediately left to my parents house. Luckily, i had insured a lot of the books. They were worth a pretty penny. My father gathered most of my belongings and put them in the basement of their house. I started to live out of the basement. My books were kept in a locked room that only I had a key for. My parents sold my house for me. It took me a while to start looking for books again. I was grieving the loss of my old ones. I dated casually, but never let it get serious. My books are my whole life. I didn’t protect them once, but that will not happen again. They are the love of my life.