Oh my provolone. There- what... I recognise all of them, all the people... But I’ve never seen them.

‘SHUT UP YOU IDIOT!’ A tall girl yelled.

Her name was Laura Queen, and she was... Rude, arrogant, but she had a story. All of these people.. They had a story. MY story. A smaller boy, a small boy the size of a pixie, tried to reason with Laura.

His name was Aqua, and he was transgender. He was also the most affectionate of my characters, the nicest. The gentleman, basically. Hailey, another character of mine, swatted Aqua from the air, bearing her wolfish fangs. She was a wolf-human hybrid, and probably the most problematic. Rachel, a pretty redhead girl, who was the most diplomatic of everyone, stood on the nearest chair and tried getting everyone to be quiet. I cringed at her; she was amazing, but her authority wouldn’t work on any of these characters.

Callista, the one witchy character of mine, took out her wand from her plaid skirt and cast a spell on everyone. A bubble with silver lining appeared around everyone. Callie gave Rachel the go-ahead.

‘We don’t know how we got here...’ Rachel started.

I groaned. These were MY characters, so they were my responsibility. Realisation flicked inside me.

‘I do,’ I said.

Rachel looked at me. Her eyes were azure, the exact shade I wrote them as. I stared back. Then I started,’ You’re all stories. You’re not supposed to be real. But you are.’

‘Stories?’ Laura hollered, banging on the bubble; of course, Callista wasn’t the most adept witch of her age,’ I’ll show you STORIES! You’ll be a story when I get out of this f-‘

‘LAURA! Shush!’ Aqua squeaked.

‘Okay.. well, uh, I’m your creator, I guess...’ I tried to say.

Nova looked impressed; she’s the stargazer. Owen looked as if I was speaking crazy stuff; of course, he was the one who only trusted himself. Tiny Theo said nothing.

For the first time, I looked around the room. Great, it was doorless, windowless and the walls were extremely stiff-looking. Unless a million Laura’s were to smash the room in half, we’d be stuck here forever. Great.

I blink once. Then twice, thinking I was mad. Then thrice, then I was sure I was awake. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of expectant eyes looking at me, as if they were expecting me to say something. I inwardly swore as I saw a large banner with a name that wasn’t mine and a subtitle of ‘The meaning of life’. These were my sister’s fans; she was a famous philosopher.

Then a voice - my sister’s manager - nudged me and urged me to go and speak. I breathed. I was so not ready for this. How did I even swap with-? No time for that. I can’t ruin Bree’s career.

“I would first like to thank everyone for coming,” I say anxiously,” Uh- thank you for taking your precious time out of your day to come here.”

I breathed again, then said,” The meaning of life depends on feelings at the time of thinking, depends on-“ I internally swore; Bree was a philosopher, I was a scientist; philosophers don’t look at the scientific outlook of anything,” Depends on.. uh, perspective and a positive outlook on life. Then.. you can grasp the meaning of life. The meaning of life is to cherish the few moments you might have left, as they slip through your fingers like liquids in your hand. The meaning of life is to be bold, to..” Now I was speaking BS, I was never bold and neither was Bree... At least...

I didn’t think so.

“To... Be brave, and be fierce. Don’t let anything get in your way, and if something does... Battle the dragons, battle the monsters... because the sword of happiness and... positivity -“ Oh my, I really am bad at this,” Can beat anything.”

I cringed at myself. My speeches were horrible. Horrendous. How Bree managed this is beyond me.

“And the final meaning of life is two things, that fight each other, but are both equal. First, never give up. It’s important to never give up, to have a burning passion of everything. Because never giving up means you strive, means that your colours fly even higher. Second... Giving up is ok. When you want to end everything, when the dragons have taken over the world, when there is no more to battle... Giving up is fine. Don’t shame those who give up, because... it’s ok. Just remember, one day, even if there is nothing left... a soul will.. your soul will- uh, avenge your losses, because souls never lose. They never lose and... There is always a next time. Thank you...”

I wanted to run off the podium, but awkwardly walked away, away from all the applause and cheering. I didn’t like it. I’m never becoming a public speaker or a philosopher. Please take your job back Bree. I can’t deal with it anymore.

Rosalind clawed through her hair, making an odd, uneven crisscross. She groaned; she had spent so much time making sure it was perfect this morning. Rosa threw her hair back, tapping her foot in time to the honey-coated voice of the receptionist. Her voice was angelic, like music. The receptionist was beautiful; Rosa couldn’t help but steal glances at her every second she was distracted. She may have been a little fake - that seemed to be her job; pretend to be nice and welcoming - but she was Rosa’s soulmate. There was a little name tag pinned on the receptionist’s uniform: Tasmin.

Rosa knotted her eyebrows. Tasmin sounded eerily familiar, but she did not have time to ponder, as Tasmin gave Rosa a smile. A smile that Rosa had not expected. It was a lot of things; malignant, showing so much malice, yet... it was a little flirtatious too. Rosalind stared at Tasmin, who gave a small wave. Rosa’s insides clawed, hungry for Tasmin, hungry for more of Tasmin’s flirty-ish acts. Her cascade of ribbony blonde hair was more than desirable, and her fair, pale skin, her eyes, brighter than light bulbs and bluer than the sea. Tasmin was... perfect.

Time slowed as Tasmin walked over to Rosa; the lights seemed to flicker, but that was in her imagination, right? Ribbons of light bounced off Tasmin, her irresistible beauty radiating off the world. Everyone seemed to be staring at her.

‘Hi, I’m Tasmin,’ She said in that sugar-coated voice that Rosa so wished to have,’ Would you like some coffee?’

Rosa stared at her, wide eyed.

The lights switched off. Tasmin’s figure flickered to black and red, as she smiled vindictively at her. Tasmin placed an icy-cold hand on Rosa’s face.

‘Don’t forget me so quickly.’

Rosa looked at Tasmin’s face.... No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be Wynter! Wynter - her first girlfriend - was dead. Wynter was dead because Rosa was cheating... Because Rosa couldn’t work up the guts to break up with her... So she hit her with a car. And ran.

‘No... I- Wynter... I-‘ All colour drained from Rosa’s face as Tasmin wielded a knife, so sharp and so frosty that it had already stabbed Rosa with its threatening glares.

‘Wynter, let’s talk this through-‘ Rosa tried to reason,’ I-I missed you, I-‘

Wynter laughed; laughed a sweet, girlish laugh, sugarcoated in both dole and joy. She stabbed the knife in Rosa’s body, and loomed over the soon-to-be corpse.

‘Next time, little Rosalind, don’t lie and don’t kill. Try not to be a psychopath next time. That’s my job, dear. Now night-night.’

Blood permeated from Rosalind’s body, and black screened Rosa’s eyes. The life left Rosa.

‘Next is Rosalind Juneberries,’ The secretary called,’ Rosalind? Miss Juneberries?’

Unnoticed by the secretary, the receptionist at the desk smirked malignantly, sheathing a knife, covered in Rosalind’s blood.

Rosalind wouldn’t be missed.

Echoes, Echoing through the walls Ricochetting off ceilings The beauty The life she lived, Gone. All in a second.

Lights blink, They flash In and out And soon, They’ve died down.

Her body lay In a coffin so big, Looked at peace, But the bruises The scars They told stories.

The welts, The scars, The blood, On her body, Showed more than anything.

Even the dead tells stories And her body told more than she did.

Even the dead tell stories.

It was petite - petite enough for someone to swallow if they tried hard enough, probably. It was a golden ring, the shape of a star. It was starting to rust, but it used to be iridescent and shiny. It was dotted with corroded fake gemstones, some which had obviously fallen out. The band was still slightly gold-coloured, but was obviously starting to have a hazel tinge. It was worthless in the eyes of many, and most couldn’t even fathom why Rosabella kept it.

It was her mother’s ring. A gift bestowed on her just mere days before Jane’s death. Those days with her mother seemed miles away... Like they were from a different timeline. What person would Rosabella be without her precious mother? It was be all different now.. every step seemed wrong, every slight moment of happiness seemed ignorant...

The ring was all Rosabella had. And she wouldn’t back down a fight if it meant the ring being safe.

Ingrid stared, wide-eyed, at her mother’s tale. Wow... Her mother, father and sister had narrowly evaded death by some deranged-sounding cult members because of their sheer intellect.

Ingrid, being the inquisitive person she was, was extremely interested, and made a mental note to research the cult members on the Internet and look in their mammoth-sized library to see if there was any mention of the ‘Ever-Roots Forest Group’, shortened to ERFG for simplicity.

Mother didn’t explain much about the ERFG, only saying that they and many others didn’t believe in the ERFG and they (the cult) actually had a good amount of money on their heads, as they practised some... horrifyingly violent and barbaric ways to get their point across.

Later, Ingrid poured over books about cults and forest-related associates and other affiliated titles and subjects, to no avail, for there was no book about them, however, the internet had another story...

The ERFG had a Internet Website. Ingrid clicked and read for hours on their beliefs and what they aim to do. Apparently, the ERFG were a group that aimed to set back the world to the times when trees were valued, and weren’t in a critical crisis; they wanted to destroy the buildings that already existed and repopulate the world with animals, and they hoped to see the extinct species of the world to be born again. The group mentioned that they’d do anything to get the world healthy again.

The scary thing about the website and the group? Ingrid actually agreed with what they had wanted...

Ingrid had always been an animal lover, devoting her love and time into her various pets. She had also adored her visits to the zoo, engrossed in the diverse amount of animals. She had particularly cherished her memories of the polar bears and even looked to buy a real polar bear stuffed by a taxidermist, or even a polar bear itself for her room, even though she knew it was a ridiculous idea. However, she knew the polar bears were going extinct, and desperately wanted to do something about it. The ERFG were perfect. She could easily save so many animals... but they were evil according to her beloved mother, and her sister, Venus.

“Venus,” Ingrid said in a would-be-casual voice after dinner,” Mum told me the story about the ERFG. I was wondering if you could tell me more to that story... I know Mum left some parts out; you know how she can be sometimes...”

Ingrid knew how to push the right buttons with her 18-year-old sister. Venus was easily persuaded.

Venus laughed at Ingrid’s comment about her mother, but replied in a half-serious tone,” I will, but don’t tell Mum about it. She’d be furious if you knew,” Venus put on a falsetto and mimicked their mother.

Soon, Venus divulged a story about violence and near-death experiences.

Surely the ERFG couldn’t be that bad...

Right?

Ever since I was young, I bottled my emotions. I don’t know why, but it just happens. It’s very difficult for me to express my emotions, even though I know every aspect of human psychology, and even animal psychology.

One day, at school, a new person enrolled in. Their name was Gregory, and, frankly, he was... stunning. Not because of his striking good looks (that all the other girls were goggling at), but because his personality was... well, perfect. He was gentle, funny, protective... We hit it off immediately. Soon, we were best friends, but every time he said that we were, I couldn’t help but wish we were more.

This confirmed my suspicion, I was in love with Gregory. I knew that the right thing to do was to tell him, but I didn’t know HOW. All I could do was fantasise, until I plucked up the courage to do it. I fantasied about him saying yes, no... Maybe. I dreamt of him sweeping me off my feet, kissing me contentedly... The thing was, I knew these dreams were... dreams, but they seemed so real. I was always in my Dream World, wishing I did things differently, but they seemed 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑟 now I met Gregory. They were just wishing I had changed a word in a test, or asked someone a question instead of ignoring them, things like 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡.

I was struggling to think of a way to tell him. A note? A romantic letter? An amorous candlelit dinner? Or maybe an outing to a beach with fireworks? They were all cliches, but... The classic cliches seem to work best. I had absolute no experience in romance or expressing my feelings. For me, courage comes and goes. And when near people, courage usually falters.

I’m not the most valiant of people, but I’ve done some ridiculous things... skydiving, attended a bullfight, gone on the Formula Rossa, taken a safari in Africa... But I can’t tell a guy I like him? I must be insane...

But I’m not...

Right?

Beauty, grace, joy, A light to everyone’s life, Selfless, loveable, clever, Someone who everyone loves.

That’s what they see, But I, the little sister, does not A nuisance, a pest, Always droning on and on About one thing About another Something insignificant.

Last week I came home crying Asking for guidance on bullying All she said was “Stop whining! “I have better things to do than to talk to you!” And then let me feel the blue

Day after day, My heart became more grey. Her mind filled with arrogance Yelling at me relentlessly Parents admiring her, The favourite child, On a golden podium of love.

I miss the time when I was her, When I was young and naive, When I was a slight bore But one they loved nonetheless

Now all they see is Her, Dancing, Smiling, Running, Getting A’s And being a success.

They’ve never noticed my joys Nor my blues They’ve never noticed my straight successes Nor my failures They only see her The one they cherish The one they love The one they wish they were The one on that golden podium The one destined to have money The one destined to have fame The one destined to have popularity

The favourite child, Whom I am not.

“MAYBE!” Poppy snapped at Celeste for what felt like the hundredth time.

“It’s always ‘maybe’,” Celeste replied, her eyes narrowing in frustration,” You’re always conveniently doing something with family! Or work! Or- You get the point! Even teensy little Eloise thinks riding a dragon is OK. Why can’t YOU?”

Poppy hesitated before answering, which was unnoticeable as Celeste was too busy being irate with her to notice, then saying with the most deadpan face,” Because— I’m just, it’s Autumn, Celeste. You know how busy us elves are...”

“I do!” Celeste roared frustratedly, making Poppy cower slightly in the corner,” But somehow I can manage to find time off work to negotiate with you! Come on, Poppy! It’s been our dream since we were 3!”

Poppy crosses her arms and riposted,” It’s not my fault the humans are wanting the harvest. You KNOW what type of elf I am and why I’m crucial during autumn-time. But I suppose you’re just as useless as Kathryn as you have so much leisure time.”

When Celeste didn’t reply, Poppy simpered,” I’ll MAYBE go.”

Celeste was positively bouncing with excitement. She was FINALLY going to ride that dragon!

She was riding one with verdigris scales, with large spikes in cornflower blue covering every few inches of her dragon, a rare Seajewelled Forest Dragon, named Iona by the finders of this particular dragon. Celeste and Iona were quick on the uptake of friendship, and Iona was extremely thrilled to learn Celeste was going to be her rider.

It was finally Riding Day, Celeste thought jovially, but her heart ached as she glanced at a large canary yellow dragon... the one Poppy was supposed to be riding, but wasn’t. Celeste had gotten another ‘maybe’ yesterday when she’d brought up the idea of dragon-riding to Poppy, and had been so vexed she decided she didn’t need Poppy to ride a dragon.

Celeste climbed Iona and sat comfortably on the saddle, and after a moment, Iona flapped her elephantine wings and they were off. Celeste could catch swift glimpses of tiny mushroom houses with fairies dancing inside, large trees with windows on the front and substantial oak doors with smooth silver rappers, some fairy-made wooden huts with lopsided windows and several chimneys, some with windchimes and others with signs and overgrown grassy roofs. There was a plain of azure water stretched across the lands, waves crashing against the beach, bouncing back and forth, twirling and pirouetting like a dancer, the frothy white foam highlighted against the colbat sea.

Then she heard something she didn’t expect to hear; another dragon’s deafening roar. Celeste snapped her head around, wand firmly in hand, a spell at the tip of her tongue, when she saw something startling...

Poppy, on her neon-yellow dragon. She grinned at me, then yelled,” I never said no, Celeste! Only ‘maybe!’”

She smiled back, then hollered back,” Maybe you’ll catch up with Iona then! Race you!”

Ruth clutched her suitcase, checking her bag, sifting through her things, trying to find her phone so she could call Aaron. Who is Aaron, you may ask.

Aaron is Ruth’s soulmate, the person she had loved. Ruth and Aaron were dating for 5 years, and they had finally got engaged. Aaron was on a plane to Hawaii, where they’d get married. Ruth was still waiting to get on a plane where a man she thought she’d never see again appeared....

Sam glanced at the woman in the seat again, his eyes round as saucepans. Ruth? He had not seen her in years! She was the love of his life.... Was. You see, Sam and Ruth were lovers back in secondary school. They were deeply in love... or so everyone thought.

Sam and Ruth were actually polar-opposites. They had nothing in common, and their interests conflicted with the other’s. They came from the same clique, but Sam was rude, arrogant, ignorant and disrespectful, whilst Ruth was compassionate, intelligent and helpful. The only thing that kept them together was the fact that their relationship made sense, and their parents approved.

Ruth’s family, the Rossdales, heavily approved of her relationship with Sam, because Sam’s family, the Wolfs, were highly religious and idolised Ruth as she knew some bible verses off by heart, despite not being catholic. The Wolfs also liked Ruth as she was everything Jesus was; caring, kind, helpful, forgiving...

But they — Ruth and Sam — were... Completely on different islands. They wanted different things for their relationship. Ruth wanted a relationship solely based on feelings and thoughts before anything physical, but Sam was quick to jump the train of intimacy and ‘I love you’s’, moving exceptionally swiftly, especially to Ruth’s tastes. They ended breaking up at the end of secondary.

Aaron and Ruth started their romance at their first university, to the heavy disappointment and disagreement of Ruth’s parents. They liked Sam more because of his family’s wealth and social status, something Aaron didn’t own.

However, Ruth was happier with Aaron, and now she was finally getting married. Turning around, she caught sight of something that made her breath cut short... Sam.

Sam also spotted Ruth, and was also slightly taken aback. Their eyes locked and Ruth’s eyes had that fierce intensity from when they broke up... She looked maddeningly murderous. However, Sam’s eyes said something that made Ruth’s heart stop. They were softly voicing Sam’s thoughts... “Come with me, Ruth. We can have another chance.”

At that moment, Ruth knew she had two choices. Join Sam and his wayward ways, despite how... disagreeable they were, and gain the approval of her parents, or catch the flight to Hawaii to marry Aaron, the man she loved, but her parents would blatantly refuse to.

As quick as a flash, Ruth knew her answer and....

Her and Aaron’s wedding was spellbinding; she loved every second of it.