Some call it vile. Some long for it. Some hate on it. Some have fallen in love with it. It’s all the same thing and yet it comes in different ways and perspectives. It’s the same word but has different meaning to different people. Sometimes it beats you down. Sometimes it raises you higher then the clouds. It’s a burden and yet an assistance. It sweeps in with the tide and rolls out with the wind. It exploding in mid air, surprising you but you knew it was coming soon. It taunts. It saves. It’s heals. It wounds. It’s a sharp silver knife, and yet a calm soft water. When it approaches you can’t help but cry. For it comforts the lonely. But when it settles you’ll find your self laughing. For it brings joy to the exuberant. Silence can’t help but come toward us, for its curiosity always gets the better of it. It can come off as playful, but deep down it’s broken. It can come off as broken, but deep down is playful. How way you want to see it really. A fire. Or a hose. A bark. Or a bite. A laugh. Or a tear. A heat. Or ice. It all depends on how you look at it. It depends on your past. It depends on your character. And if you want it to last. But in the end it’s all the same. It doesn’t have a different name. ...S ...I ...L ...E ...N ...C ...E

I stood near the edge as it called to me. It longed for me to jump. What if I did? Would the world really miss me? “Yes.” A deep, power holding voice spoke from behind me. I slowly turned around only to lock eyes with a beaten, ragged girl. “What?” I breathed out. “You. Will. Be. Missed.” I look away scoffing. “How so?!” I asked more sternly, feeling the rage start to boil up in me. “You feel like no one notices you. You feel worthless because that people have told you, you are. You feel angry cause this is not what they promised. You feel sad because your broken. They have broke you.” Her words of truth hit me like a stone. She was...she was right. “H-how do you know that?” I finally broke the silence. “I felt it once too. The unbearable weight of nothing is in your shoulders, and I want to take it for you.” She told me calmly. “What?” Was all I could manage to say. She then slowly approached me, not unlocking the eye contact. Her face wore are small but warm, bright smile as she lifted her arms and wrapped them around me. With this embrace my walls came crashing down. Everything. My vision was invaded with mad, sorrow filled tears.

                    THREE MONTHS LATER

My feet ached and my mouth was dry, but I didn’t stop. I ran through the tangled, wet, frosty forest when suddenly I could see light in the distance. I smirked. I had found my destination. Turning over, I signaled the other girls to come forward and to the house that was standing in front of us. They moved swiftly as they claimed the side of the wall. A cry of pain broke through the air, and I winced. This is why we are here. One by one the girls hoped through the window, then I heard nothing. The lights went out, the movement had stopped. My heart sunk. Worry filled my stomach as I looked around for anything really. And as quick as it happened the lights flicked on and all five of my girls came out of the window. They worked together getting two new girls out as well. They had been successful. I let out a breath of relief and walked up to the new recruits. “Listen, I don’t have much time to explain. Do you want a chance at a better life?” I asked them gently. They both looked at each other then to me. “Yes.” They responded. I smiled then turned around and gave the signal. Finally we had returned to base. We had an underground not only building but a Society. In this kingdom there are only kings. So we made our own queens. We take girls, and we rise them up so they know how to fight for them selves and others. We rase them to work with those who hate us, not do what they have done to us.

DEATHS POV: I watched as the little girl was hit over and over again, with a thick rubber. I winced as she cried out. For no one could hear the child. No one but me. The evil that lurked over her, was silent in the day but vibrant in the moon light. Oh how I wished I could wrapped my arms around her, and pick her up, singing her a Lullaby till her soul rests in a soundless sleep. Tears fell from my eyes as she was left in the cold bitter wilderness, with nothing but her broken soul to fight with. I watched over the years as this little girl was forced to mature so very fast. At the age 12 she was already murdering as if it were a hobby. The poor girl, her mind tricked into thinking what’s right. She didn’t deserve what was being sent her way. At the age of 18 she had a little girl. Not by choice I might add. I walked with her every step of the way just in case she fell into my arms. Just in case she chose to join me. The blood from her hands was being washed into the drain to never be seen or heard of again. Never would she realize the true darkness she was working with. Her mind brain washed. For she wasn’t a killer. Don’t misunderstand. She had a warm, soft, bright soul that was hiding deep within. But she knew not to show it. Her pain out wade her mind. Her sorrow out wade her Conscience. For as I said before, she was only a broken soul. Not the killer people thought her to be.

HER POV: My mouth was open panting loudly. I had been running for 45 minutes straight. Well, I had been running my whole life. That’s what I do. Run. Quickly I ducked under a bush and next to a tall barren tree. I heard yelling in the distance and waited until they past. I let if a breath I didn’t even know I was holding as I turned on my heal and was on the move, again. You see, I don’t live your ordinary Teen, New Yorkers life. I was a killer, you might say. The heal of my combat boots clicked as I made my way through the deep ghetto ally, when the clicking finally came to a halt. I sighed then opened the creaky, rustic door. Hoping in the shower, I washed the crimson blood off my hands and face.Making my way over to the air mattress that lay across the floor, I started at the little girl. Her chest rose and fell, the pattern of breath. Her body sprawled out with the blanket really not doing much, her blond hair flying all over the place. I sighed, bent down, stroked her hair, then sat up and when over to my bed. A couple more weeks. Just a couple more weeks.

Stepping outside was a death route. The harsh wind bitting at your skin, it clung to you with a wolves grip. The trees lose their life, a white blanket covering their bright, vibrant green leaves. The air is crisp, unmoving, silent. The white is unending. An abyss of eternal white. The color really isn’t comforting, only raging. Inside a bright light is made. The fire cracking in the distance. You would think it’s warmth would chase the cold out but instead the harsh winter wins every time. It was a battle we knew we couldn’t win. So very many lives were taken in the midst of the war. So many dead. So many alive. Both we equally bad. For if you made it through, a part of the cold would forever stay in your eyes. The ice breaking through your flesh and engulfing your soul. It’s a sharp pain to suffer through, but the fire that breaks out after is valuable. For if you can escape the harsh winter, then you become the fire.