Eyes flicker over see luscious hair and glimmering orbs like a clover he bows to kiss a lady’s hand invisible halo floating above his head he tells a joke, the admirers correspondingly grin it is astounding that he is still unwed he is perfection’s twin

later, he returns home a man awaits in his bed sitting in the emptiness and gloam and barely spares a glance at the pretty little head he knows the truth of the matter the flaws and cracks that run deep the glass mask will shatter when he arrives home to his keep

It’s as I walk past the cafe, that I see it. She’s there with another, and through the window, I can see the way she fidgets her hands in a way she does only when she’s flustered. I know it only too well, considering it has just been a week since we broke up. She must have been ready to move on months ago.

I hurriedly turn away, blinking away the tears in my eyes and forcing myself to continue walking. I choke out a breath, and suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. I stumble, just wanting to get away.

It’s already becoming dark when I become aware of my surroundings and the ache in my feet. I look up at my apartment building, rising up numerous floors, and making me feel so small in comparison. My feet take me forward slowly, and it’s only when I am in front of my door, key in the lock, that I make my decision.

I don’t even bother removing my key, instead flinging myself to the nearest stairwell, knowing I don’t have enough patience for the elevator. My stomping feet echo loudly in the empty area. The door to the rooftop bangs upon the wall, and yet in my haze, I hear nothing.

I stand on the ledge, suddenly feeling so at ease with myself. The wind ruffles my hair softly, and a smile comes to my lips as I say,

“In a way, this is the happy ending for the both of us.”

Swallow. The pill slides down my throat, even though it is trembling from the weight of people’s gaze. They stand around me, staring at me with wide smiles and empty eyes. I shake in my chair, and cold sweat drips down the side of my pale face as I look down to avoid their gaze. It is then that the day finally begins. The faces turn towards their food and shallow conversations begin. Now that The Order has seen me take my daily dose.

Guilt overwhelms as tears stream down my cheeks. The table does not deem my sniffles worth any fuss and the fake joy stays like a mask, worn by the family I will now be a part of. I cry for the last time, before my emotions are erased. I can already feel the drug permanently altering the effects of my limbic system, and soon I will perceive nothing. I clench my hands at the thought of what will happen and what has happened.

Hidden. We were supposed to be hidden and safe. But I took that safety for granted, ventured too far out, and they found us. Because of me, we will all be sentenced to a metaphorical death because even if our heart still beats, are we even alive without our emotions?

Music filled the room as we shuffled back and forth to the calming lull of the record player. I rest my head on his chest, looking up at him through my bangs. My hand reaches up to caress his cold cheek delicately, and we smile.

The radio suddenly wakes up, beeping overcoming the soft music.

“We have 10 minutes left before the meteor hits. Goodbye, everyone.”

I leave him to turn off the music, letting silence surround the two of us. Then, I turn to pull him to the window, his feet dragging along the hardwood floor.

Lights flicker across the glass pane, warm oranges rising from the rubble outside. The dust from fallen buildings lingers in the air. Evidence to all the riots and the tumultuous crowds that panicked at the initial news. There are still some people left even now, hoping to outrun their impending deaths.

But when I close my eyes, I can almost imagine none of it had ever happened. I draw the curtains close, leaving only the light of the glimmering candles.

I look up into my lover’s eyes and smile, reaching up to continue our dance. My humming fills the silence as I maneuver his arms to hold me, and his face to look only at me. A tear falls from my eye, but I whisk it away, not letting it dampen my smile. I lean my head on his chest again, swaying back and forth with the cold gray hands.

Like this, I can almost imagine it’s him.

Paradise. That is the one goal for any survivor. Across these deserted lands with dried up lakes, what else could someone hope for? As their skin peels and they bleed through chapped lips.

They travel day by day, with only a restless couple hours of sleep to keep them going, consumed by the idea of something as great as an oasis in this desolate world.

Some fail, starvation eating at their insides as they lay there, empty eyes gazing into the distance where they prayed to find paradise. Their mind trapped elsewhere, never receiving its biggest desire for freedom.

The fire crackles in front of me, brittle wood breaking apart in the heat. There, my dinner roasts, a pitiful meal of one scrappy little lizard. It would have to be enough for now. My worn bag and blanket serve as my pillows for the night as I attempt to close my eyes and rest without the ever-present paranoia eating at the corners of my mind.

The next day begins much the same as every one for the past two months. The one change being the sight of decaying body with its arm still reaching out for unknown glory. I look away, swallowing down the bile attempting to come back up. Even though I am surrounded by death, I could never get used to the sight of another person laying like I could be in a few days.

Night falls. A fire. No meal tonight. Wake up. Walk. Repeat.

I can hardly even think through the haze in my mind, my muscle memory the only thing keeping me walking through ever trip and stumble. Eventually, though, I realize I’m facing the wrong way. I blink rapidly, seeing the sun in front of me instead of above. I cough, my frail bones and lungs aching at the movement, but even so, I don’t have the energy to even wince. Nor can I even move, so I don’t even bother.

I stare at the sun for hours, and when it sets, I close my eyes in agreement.

I think I laid there for a few days, but it could have just been hours. I know the sun set once, but I didn’t register any others. A sudden change makes my eyebrows furrow, though. Even with my eyelids closed, I could see the light leaking through; however, it changed in an instant, leaving the darkness swarming beneath my eyelids. I risk a peek, finding the energy to slowly open my eyes.

“Huh, seems you’re not dead, yet.”

A man looks down at me from above, the sun tinting his light brown hair an interesting shade of caramel.

I attempt to speak but my lips just tremble slightly, a pathetic excuse for words.

He sighs and reaches down. His arms come up to rest under my back and knees as he cradles me to his chest.

“Relax. We’ll be there soon. Don’t die on me just yet.”

I recede in and out of consciousness, but later on, I swear I see lights and voices drift in and out of my ears. I can only hope its not just my memories.

I barely register a change in position as the strong arms settle me gently onto something soft. Then, I am pulled up and a press of something settles against my lips.

“Drink up, and then you can rest.”

The water soothes my throat and cracked lips, and with the refreshment, I can finally manage the words “thank you” before I fall asleep once more.

Getting dressed in the elaborate white gown, and the strenuous process of leaving every singular strand of hair in perfect position was my morning. The excitement I felt as I laughed with my friends, each dressed just as fancily me, seemed like so long ago.

As I walked down the aisle, my hands clenched tightly onto my father’s arm from the nerves, but mainly the happiness, I felt better than I ever have. But now, I sit here on this small swing with my feet dragging along the gravel softly, my heels long forgotten during my run.

We did our vows, and when the officiant told us to kiss, we did. The tingling in my lips sent sparks through me as a few glittering tears of happiness spilled down my blushed up cheeks. We danced to our songs as our family and friends clapped. It was supposed to be the best day of my life.

When my sister came to congratulate me, and my newly wed husband left with the words “I’ll be right back…” spilling from his deceiving lips, I did not think anything of it. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, and the smile never left my lips.

But then, the special sting spread through my lips and with it, my smile slowly dimmed. The words leaving my sister’s mouth turned muted, and I couldn’t hear nor think because what else could that ever-knowing tingle mean?

I checked before I left, though, because even though my mind knew, my heart couldn’t take it. Not on this day. My eyes searched the room, and my feet traveled to every corner, ignoring every weird look thrown my way. But I didn’t find him in the room; instead, I saw him outside, hands cradling someone who wasn’t me. There was a smile on his face and a fondness in his eyes that, as I stood there, I realized I had never truly seen.

Without the heart to confront him, I did my only other option and ran. I took off my heels a few seconds in, ignoring the pain of my bare feet on the sidewalk. My billowing dress tripped me up, but I just lifted it up in my arms and ran until… I couldn’t.

The park came into sight as I slowed down, and I fell into the swing, the old chains creaking at the weight designed for children. Tears ran down my face and the leftover trails sparkled like gemstones. Even though I felt like every part of me was ruined, my hair still stayed in its shape and the waterproof makeup did not even struggle in the waterfall of my tears. The cracks were barely recognizable on the surface.

The adrenaline died down and my emotions disappeared, leaving only nothingness as I stared down at the ground emptily. I must have sat there for awhile as the sky slowly started to change from blue to a fiery orange with the setting sun.

“What happened to you?”

I flinched slightly, finally taking in my surroundings and meeting amber eyes, shadowed by wild hair.

“You get stood up at your wedding or something?”

At his words, I quickly looked down again, biting my lip as I tried to stop the tears from building up in my eyes.

“Here,” a water bottle appears in my vision, “I haven’t opened it yet if you’re worried. You look like you could use it.”

I take it from his hands, watching from the corner of my eye as he plops down heavily on the swing beside me, chains groaning in protest at his added weight.

“Thanks. I wasn’t really stood up, though. He waited until after the wedding to cheat.” I chuckled drily, opening up the water to take a sip.

“Sounds like an asshole to me. Why would you even like that guy in first place?”

“He, “ I pause, taking in a breath to hold in my sob, “was never an asshole to me. I never even noticed until I saw him with her.” My hands start to shake slightly, and I tighten my hold on the water in response.

“Well, I think letting a guy like that break you down is lame. You should just shove it in his face how much better off you are without him.”

I turn slightly to look at him. With narrowed eyes, I say, “I dated him for five years. I can’t get over him like that.”

He shrugs, “Then pretend.”

The cold wind whistles past my ears my boots crush along the leaves and my breath comes out as steam but it is not just another walk in the park

the leaves fall like delicate things and the birds chirp elegantly the squirrels scramble in twos and the fish swim in their schools but it is not a normal day

my phone does not light up nor does it ring no cars zoom by, ever in a rush laughter does not sound the swings push back and forth alone like a feather in the wind

because it is not just another walk in the park the people have all left, their cars in idle the dogs wait for their owners as the toys await to be picked up for everyone is gone, except me

A clang rings through the air as an empty soda can is flung at the wall. The culprit is a young boy seated on the weathered steps of an old building. His unruly locks cover his matching brown eyes, hiding the tears building up.

“Isn’t a little late to be crying?”

He doesn’t even raise his head to acknowledge the voice, not even surprised by the newcomer.

Footsteps thud across the pavement, coming close enough that he can see with his peripheral vision. They come to a stop next to him, and next they shift as the girl sinks down beside him on the stairs.

He finally speaks up, the quiet voice sounding deafening in the silence. “Is it ever too late to cry?”

A soft chuckle follows, sounding more sarcastic than amused. “Yeah, I put a limit around, say 3 in the morning. It gives you just about the right amount of time to cry yourself to sleep. Right now,” she checks her watch, making a funny face, “It is 4:11 am, which is about an hour past my limit.”

“So, whats got your knickers in a twist 2 hours before we gotta wake up for school?” she asks, turning to smile at him as she leans back on her hands.

“Just shut up. Leave me alone.” He turns his face into his hand, willing the tears not to drop.

“No can do Mr. Lonely. I woke up way too early for you not to give me an answer.”

The silence resumes.

“Is it Claire?”

He curls into himself, hiding his head in his arms which rest upon his knees. Unbeknownst to him, she watches, her fake smile gone and replaced with the saddest look as she gazes upon the boy she cares about most.

“She broke up with you, huh?”

“Shut up.” Comes the muffled reply. “If you’re just gonna rub it in my face, then leave.”

“You could get someone better anyways.”

He raises his head and glares at her. “What like you? She was a million times better. No one’s like her, and no one would ever love me like she did.”

The girl shows no reaction, her smile back on and the quiver of her hands so slight, it’s unnoticeable. A whisper leaves her lips, carried away by the wind so he would not hear.

A second passes and then two, and she finally says, “No, but do you need someone to be happy?”

He opens his mouth to respond and then pauses, confused by her words.

She continues, “You are you and Claire is someone all on her own. If God thought we needed someone else to be happy, he would have gave us someone else.”

“Me and myself are enough for I. Although I do break sometimes, I only need to put myself back together with my own hands.”

He stared at her, unimpressed. “What? Did you steal that from the internet? You’re so weird. I really can’t stand you sometimes.”

“Then why are you still listening to me?”

“You’re right. Bye, weirdo.”

She watches him go and gets ready to put herself back together again. “Bye, Luca.”

The whisper travels through the wind, and through the wind it echoes, “But I could love you the way you deserved.”

A loud thud echoes through the apartment, followed by the clang of keys as they are thrown roughly onto the nearest table.

“Why can’t you ever trust me?” a voice sounds loudly into the once silent atmosphere. The ruffling of hair follows as they promptly brush their hands through their short hair.

“How can you expect me to do that when you always lie? Or you reply late? Or when you, you,” The soft voice cuts off as sobs rip through, muffled by the hand rushing to cover the woman’s mouth.

The other growls, pacing back and forth in frustration. “Reply late? I’m sorry I’m not on my phone 24/7!” the man pauses in his walking to turn, yelling at his girlfriend. “You’re the one who always accuses! I’ve never thought about cheating on you, not once!”

The woman clenches her hands tightly to her sides, her crying coming to a temporary halt in her anger. “Then why? Then why were you looking at that girl and flirting with her? Every time I see you, you’re with HER?”

She continues, not even stopping to take a breath, “When was the last time you took me on a date? Where we actually did something together? Because I certainly don’t remember.”

He makes a sarcastic sound, rolling his eyes at her. “That GIRL? You mean my friend? What am I not allowed to have friends now?”

“Not when you care about them more than me!” The tears break through once more, the dam bursting. “You never talk to me anymore. It’s always her, or youre,” she chokes on a sob, stuttering, “or youre too busy,”

He cuts her off, “Maybe YOU’RE expecting too much. I’m not supposed to be with you every second of everyda-“

“BUT YOU’RE NOT THERE FOR ANY SECOND!”

He gets ready to yell back, but stops himself and just sighs in disappointment. “You know? I really can’t stand you sometimes.”

“Then why are you still listening to me? Just leave. You don’t care about me anyways.”

“Fine.” He turns, walking out, and as the door closes, she sinks. She falls to the floor and the crying never stops.

Visiting grandma was always an experience; she held so much wisdom in those shaking hands and delicate smile. Her eyes, though, seemed like they aged more than her body, for although she was old, her eyes seemed to tell tales of long ago.

She was a shoulder I could lean on, a hidden strength in her body that could hold any burden. I loved her, and I never thought she would disappear just like that.

I was just at her house, listening to her drone on and on about the automatic cars, laughing at her amazement, and now she's gone.

I laid on my bed, hand over my eyes as I willed myself not to weep. She would have told me there was no need, that it was just her time to go.

A ring sounds through the stillness, and the bed ruffles as a newcomer announces his presence. His droopy ears flop over his face as he rolls on top of me, leaving a present. A bracelet falls from his mouth, covered in slobber.

"Milo," I huff irritably. He whines at my tone, nudging the fallen jewelry with big, expectant eyes, hoping I'd play with him. In contrast to my tone, I pick him up, gently setting him down besides me as I pick up the sticky bracelet. Grimacing, I wipe it with my shirt and inspect it, noticing the encarved lines and intricate designs.

"Oh," I mumble to myself in realization, "It's grandmas." I get up, moving to the edge of the bed. Milo whines at me and I sigh in defeat, knowing I couldn't resist his whining. "Let's go play outside, buddy."

Pushing myself up, I stumble to the door, an excited puppy rushing between my legs. My footsteps resound through the empty house, my parents having gone to visit family.

As I walk down the stairs, I see a mess around the couch. "Milo! Seriously?" A small box is opened on the floor, its contents scattered. "This must be where he got grandma's bracelet," I mumble to myself, reaching down to pick up the fallen items.

My hand freezes as it comes in contact with a hand-made necklace. I collapse to the floor, grasping the necklace as hard as I could as I willed my eyes to stop burning. The necklace was covered in beads, strung together by a neon pink line; it was all I had when I was younger, when I wanted all the jewelry making kits I could find. The square-shaped beads were painted with faded white letters, 'granma.'

I lay my hand down in my lap, turning my head to face the ceiling as a single tear streams slowly down my face. Sniffling, I turn to the rest of the items, sifting through the mess and picking up a series of photographs. They're held together by a rubber band, so obviously taken care of. I handle them gently, our whole past held in these small pieces of paper.

The setting sun's rays shine through the window, catching an object and causing it to shine as it reflects the brilliance. Curiousity pushes me to grab it. It being a small leather cased book, probably older than me, with shiny silver letters across the front. "Creatures of the Forgotten," I read to myself quietly, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

A brown ribbon ties it together in a gentle knot, and I reach to carefully unwrap it, treating this book as I would a rare treasure.

My eyes skim the ink littering the first page, each letter delicately written, and I gasp in shock. 'Amphisbaena' is the heading and underneath lies a beautiful sketch of a mythical serpent with a head at each end.

With my eyes stretched wide in permanent amazement, I turn to the next page and the next and the next, every page detailing another mythical monster.

A sticky note falls into my lap, disturbing my frantic looking. My fingers gently grasp it and as I lift it up, I read, "As an archeologist, I have discovered many fossils that do not existing creatures and so many things that can't be explained. In this book, I have brought them to life through ink. These brilliant creatures… I wish they could have existed today. The world would be so much more interesting."

I reread it again, trying to make sure that my eyes aren't tricking me. Such things might have actually existed? I smile in excitement, pocketing the book of wonders.