They say May is a robot. I say otherwise. May is different, not programmed. She does everything right, and in an orderly fashion. She also doesn’t talk, like, ever. And no one talks to her.

I slide in to the chair opposite the gracefully tall girl with sheets of silver for hair and emeralds for eyes and place my cellophane wrapped sandwich down in front of me. “Hey, May.” I try but she doesn’t lo...

No. This- this can’t be happening. There’s still bubbles in the water, he could still-pop. The bubbles are gone. The lake is still once more. I scream, I shout, I hurtle any thing I can find into the water. But it only excepts them with a small plop.

It doesn’t know I’ve just lost my brother to its icy depths. It doesn’t know how he never learned to swim because he vowed to never go near water ag...

I don’t know what happened. What hit me. All I know is that my head is throbbing so badly I can’t hear my own thoughts, and there’s something sharp in my back. I don’t have the energy to roll over and remove one pain when it will trigger so many others in my aching body.

I was running, from what, I can’t remember. But it wanted something from me. I ran down a gravel path, and then in to the wood...