Anthony hulked the cigarette out from between his chipped yellowing teeth, grinning as he eyed the National Bank Of Amazing Things. It glittered with the first hints of morning sun from the sky. “Jonesy!” He spat out to his friend, who was yet again trying and failing to catch an absent cokoroach on the sidewalk using a spoon. Out of the two men, Anothony held the final brain cell. “Huh?” “We gonna break in there today.” Jonesy’s eyes widened. “What ‘bout the fuzz? We’re gonna get caught if we don’t be careful.” “Not with this,” Anthony smirked as he held up a gun from his satchel, making Jonesy recoil back in horror. “You could kill someone with that, An!” “Naw, you think I didn’t know that, boy? Now let’s head in.” The two unbeknownst men headed off towards the back entrance of the bank, not knowing that the so-called gun inside Anothony’s satchel was none other than a Nerf gun he’d stolen from the local toy shop, with useless rubber bullets. The pair climbed the ladder at the back entrance up to a nearby window, where they’d break in. Stop right there! __ “Dammit, An! I told you!” Jonesy wailed. A deputy sheriff held the megaphone up to his lips as helicopters circled the men, blaring lights focused on them. Anothony believed he still had one trick up his sleeve. “Fear not! Behold!” He holestered the plastic gun, cackling. Quickly, he fired the rubber bullets at the deputy’s chest, only for them to bounce off hopelessly. The sheriff laughed himself numb. “Well, damn,” Anothony grumbled as handcuffs braced his wrists, and he, along with a sobbing Jonesy were led away.

My heart drops, Mom’s footsteps reverberating down the hall as she nears the storage closet. I’m snarfing down a handful of gold-wrapped chocolates, my tongue savoring the taste. It’s been days since I’ve properly eaten, especially since I’ve promised myself one meal a week. I needed my body in pristine shape for the upcoming cheer week. “Vivienne?” Mom’s voice is muffled by the space between us. The door squeaks open. She’s holding a laundry basket in one hand, her phone in the other pressed against her ear. Her doe-like eyes widen at the sight of what’s in my other hand. A pill. I was nearly ready to swallow it and head to the bathroom where I’d lean hulkingky over the toilet seat at vomit the contents of what I’d just eaten out. “Mom, it’s not what it looks like—“ I whisper, painicked. “Dear God . . .” She drops the basket, snatching the pill from me. I cower away in shame, tears of guilt dragging themselves down my cheeks. With the speed of light, Mom marches downstairs, covering her free hand over her mouth and shaking her head misreably. “Ron!” She calls out to my father. No, no, no, no, no, no— __ I sob, small quakes overtaking my body. Silently, I pray that I’ve been locked in some kind of dream, and I’d awake to a sun-soaked morning in peace. “Vivienne!” Mom roars. “Get your ass down now!” Please, no— _“Vivienne!” _ __ I whimper, taking small steps down the stairs. A pathway to my nightmare. The instant I step into the living room, invited by my parent’s infuriated expressions, I’m met with the cool slap of Mom’s palm against my cheek, sending me staggering the other way. “Do you realize what others may say about our family if they find out about this?” She holds up the pill to the light of the dim chandelier. “The backlash we’d get? Your father is an influential man around here. This could tarnish his reputation.” I nod quiveringly. Some ridiculously hopeful nook inside my heart believed that if my parents ever found out about my secret, they’d still cherish and care for me. My mother would make me warm cup of cocoa and sit down beside me, stroking my hair as we talked. That I never wanted to join cheer. That I wanted a life where the image of my body was unimportant to me. That I could walk out in the broad light of day and finally wear something tighter than my array of oversized hoodies. But she didn’t. And just like that, my parents are gone upstairs, and the night suddenly feels colder as I curl up onto the couch in a fetal position, and begin to cry.

Tears tell the stories of my eyes They are oceans slipping down my skin gracefully

They are a sign that I am alive Since the day I opened my eyes to the searing light of the world

Many call it a weakness Mistake it for fragility

But my tears are stronger than any blade Fiercer than the night wind

Listen to my tears as they whisper tales and promises Of joy Agony Rage Sorrow Fear Power

“You’ve caused me so much pain, yet the love I feel for you blinds me of it!” Terrance’s words rang through the midsummer air. “I’m sorry,” Fiona shook her head gently. Under the moonlight, she resembled a goddess, feathery strands of blond hair kissing her skin. “I yearn for someone else, my dear.” Those words speared Terrance straight through. Fiona shut her window, silk curtains obscuring her. And suddenly, his heart felt like a worn, exhausted thing.

He was tired.

Terrance leaped down from where he had stood on the flower-speckled balcony of Fiona’s manor. All the clever, romantic words he’d mustered in his mind suddenly faded to fine dust, his bluster and bravado gone. It wasn’t until he was slowly trecking down the alleyway that he allowed every ounce of pain and misery he felt from Fiona flood through. All the mistreatment. All the manipulation. The countless days he’d found her in the bed of another man only for her to remark it as a misunderstanding. Her fabricated confusion when he confronted her about his feelings. Terrance believed his love, above all else, would be able to let Fiona hang on to him. He thought of it as a bandage to every wound she had blown. He watched wearily as a young man holding a messy bouquet of wild roses climbed up the same balcony he’d just abandoned. Fiona opened her window, a vibrant smile gracing her face. The two shared a lighthearted kiss that sent Terrance into a haze of sorrow. _Why can she not love me the same? _His mind wondered hopelessly. A tear slid silently down his cheek. _Have I not done enough? _ __ And that night, he was left with nothing but an empty bottle of wine in his bag and a tired heart.

I’d take a bullet for you Only to realize you were the one holding the gun

I cannot undo what is done Cannot unsing a song that’s been sung

But your betrayal will leave a scar that cannot be erased A blemish on my skin

Sticks and stones never broke my bones But words made me starve myself Until you could see all of them

But even still I want to let my love for you thrive Even as my knees buckle and my blood drains

Although you cannot change things by loving them harder I will try

300 days of unrequieted silence. 300 days of slowly but surely drifting apart. Our once merged worlds breaking away and floating further into the void. Rain splattered against my face as I trecked up the steps and up to the rooftop. We were two unrecognizable beings now, wearing different skins and walking the earth with a new purpose. I found him leaning against the railing, gazing up at the sky with a newfound darkness seeped into his eyes. Lightning lit the sky with a haze of electric blue. Soon, I was unable to distinguish my tears from the icy rain. For months, my mind was ridden with the memory of that night. The echoing slam of the front door, and the relentless pain of waking up to an empty bed. “Warren,” I whispered. Silence that almost felt deafening followed. “Warren, please,” My voice shattered. My heart ached. I was so tired. I was exhausted with the endless cruelty and unspoken words. I wanted to be whole again. Complete. Warren’s chest rose and fell with every breath. I let my fingers skin down the faintest pink scar on my forearm.

_“Will you tell me how you got it?” He asked in the undisturbed silence of our room. I was wrapped in his arms, shirt undone. The warmth of his skin kept me bundled through the frosty air of December. _ “My dad,” I laughed, shaking my head to rid myself of the memory I discarded years ago. “It’s a long story.” _Warren pressed his lips to my forehead. “I have all the time in the world.” _ __ __ My bones rattled. “What did I do, Warren?” He let his eyes meet mine. “That’s the thing, Lia,” He murmured. “You always need someone to fill you up. You wore me out.” And then he’s gone. __ __

_Showtime. _

I glanced down at the audience below; elven women gossiping quietly, roughish centaur men, impish fae children, and far more creatures of Endoria scattered across. So many creatures with their lives at stake. I gripped the bejeweled podium, taking a breath.

“Eons ago, our blessed Three Sisters graced our land, Euoria of the Sun, Loura of the Moon, and Xarne of the Stars. We were a land of unrequited equality and shared magic,”

Murmurs spiked the crowd. I held my breath with palpable fear.

“But now,” I shut my eyes, letting the words gather to my core. “We are a nation divided.”

The crowd silenced.

“The Minstry of Zoa has numbed our land and devoid it of its once thriving magic.” I let my eyes skim towards the Minsitry who sat upon shimmering thrones of gold, shock lacing their faces.

“I lost my father to theses horrors. Do you wish for more injustice in the endless system of cruelty?“

“Enough!” The Minsitry’s leader, Sir Olank, rose from his throne, fury coursing through his veins. “Enough of this nonsense. Arrest the child.”

_No. _ __

I allowed the trails of flames to rise from my skin, burning the halo of guards approaching me from all sides. The scene was overtaken by a golden haze.

Screams from the crowd ricochet.

“There will be freedom once more,” I whisper. And soon, I was rising with heat flowing past my bones like an easy current. The crowd gawked at me with awe.

I had to leave. The walls of the shrine began to rumble with the warning of a nightmare to come. The display of the relic crumbled to a heap of sand. My fingers tightened around it, feeling its cool gold surface whisper a plead to me to leave. I stuffed it into my satchel hastily and bolted down the pathway alit by molten candles. The exit was close—so close. _Almost there, _the sliver of light beamed through the slightest crack of the two doors. But then, the pathway began to crack beneath me. The once lifeless eyes of the ethereal statues surrounding the room began to glow mercilessly. A vermillion haze engulfed the wide room of the shrine. My heart raced. Sweat dripped down my chin like August rain. I began to whimper in horror. _You have nerve stealing from me, child. _A faint voice reverberated through my mind. Panic gripped my mind. And soon, I was dropped into an inky sea of pitch black.

~・☆・~

My bones ached with the impact from the fall. For a few agonizing moments, I lay paralyzed on a floor in the endless darkness, my surroundings nothing but an icy expanse of smooth ground. “Hello?” I croaked out. The silky, cutting-edge voice returned like the crack of a whip on my face. _Think of this as a punishment, child. You signed your life away when you stole that relic. _

“But—” I tried to hoist myself upward, only to lose my balance and fall apart yet again. _Your frail body won’t carry you far. But I’d like to see how far you’re able to get. It’s been eons since I’ve had any kind of entertainment. _

And just like that, the voice vanished. With ideas of escape circling my mind, I forced myself onto my feet, wincing in agony. I pulled a torch out from my satchel, lighting it with a small vial of gasoline and a match. The shimmering glow of heat was enough to clear my vision. It wasn’t until I realized when I peered down under my tattered boots that the ground was made of pure, solidified ice. But that wasn’t the most horrifying part about it. Under the thick blue frost we’re hundereds—no, thousands, of bodies mangled and entrapped with horrified expressions. And similar to me, they wore threadbare satchels and hooded leather cloaks. Theives in search of the Undying Septer. I shuddered. I jogged, letting my torch whisk away the spoltches of darkness. Until I saw the forest. The ice faded away into a clearing of vibrant lush grass. Towering blossom trees filtered shimmering sunlight, plump fruits shining. Flowerbeds of wild, ethereal flowers greeted me with their dainty petals. I was free! Smiling, I tumbled through the thicket, breathing out a gentle sigh of relief. A mass of colorful fairies descended upon me, smiling cheekily. Their small hands spread specks of stardust on my skin. “Do not fret, young miss, you’re free now.” One piped up. I sagged on the floor, beginning to feel my muscles relax and skin flush. I felt oddly drunken. My satchel opened, causing the relic to spill out. The more stardust raining on my skin, the more I felt myself dissociating and growing weaker. “I . . . wait . . .” I clenched out. I couldn’t stand. The fairies’ faces twisted into bulging, wrinkled skin. Fangs poked from their mouths, dripping in glittering blood. Their eyes glowed. _You’re a foolish girl, _the voice returned smoothly from the fairies mouths. I gasped. Just as a small, clawed hand began to reach for my skin, the pierce of a blade through flesh filled my vision. A silhouetted figure had saved me, his blade slicing the fairies to nothingness. The stardust wore off, and I retrieved the relic from the ground. I gazed up. He was a boy no older than my age, his hands and neck wrapped in yellowed bandages. My eyes widened at the unmistakable leather cloak and satchel. He was another theif. “Thank you,” My voice came out uneven. “You can’t trust the apparations here. They’re all creations of the Relic Master to distract you.” The boy snapped frustratedly. “What are you talking about?” It was my turn to grow frustrated now. “Who are you?” The boy sighed, running a bandaged hand through his feathery strands. “You’ll lose the Relic Master’s game if you die in here. The rest of us did.” I shuddered in fear. “You lost?” He nodded. “Atlas Kade. I died here centuries ago when I tried to steal the relic. I’m merely a ghost now.” “Jinx Opal,” I said shakily. “Your name won’t matter if you don’t survive the Relic Master’s fight.” I delicately touched the useless silver-tipped blade in my satchel. “Do I have a chance?” “That’s for you to decide,” Atlas answered, gesturing towards a darkened path that led out the forest. And soon, he dissipated like steamed water. _Oh, you’re alive? _The voice taunted. _I’m waiting. _ __ And I started down the path, heart trembling.

The tufts of cotton candy I stuffed in my mouth at carnivals when I was young. The gentle fabric of pillows under my head as my mother tucked me to sleep. Sun-soaked days from elementary school when I was sprawled over the grass during recess, gazing up at the clouds above. The feeling of my father’s hand in mine as he walked me down the crosswalk, my small fingers curling around his. The days that are now gone but have found a secret nook in my heart. They are soft and delicate memories. They will live forever.

It’s a cramped space, cloistered from the rest of the rooms in the house. Like myself, it may not seem like much on the outside, but it’s a kaleidoscope of mysteries and life inside. The walls are a cream white pinned with posters of my favorite artists. Lyn Lapid, TV Girl, Laufey, and JVKE. Shelves decorated in vibrant stickers hold books arranged from romance to horror. A vinyl record player plays an ambient Mitski song, old vintage 80’s television playing Coraline. My bed is small but sturdy. Seemingly frail but able to hold anything. The comforter is a soft pink, Mario and Pac-Man plushies gazing at me with playful eyes. My little space is my sanctuary. My home.