Her lips were plump and red like a crisp apple, her skin the color or caramel. She smelled of Lilac and Vanilla, tasted of cinnamon and cream. She was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking.
And she didn’t want me, because I was a man. She didn’t want any man.
“I think it’s for the best… I don’t even think you know anything about me…” she stated gently. She placed her hand on mine.
“I know everything about you! I love you!” I pulled my hand away.
“What’s my favorite color?” She asked, her brow furrowed.
“… magenta.”
“Yellow… my favorite color has been yellow since I was 12.” Her eyes showed pain and hope. “When is my birthday?”
“August 14th,” I stated confidently.
“February 22nd,” she said softly.
My head spun, how is this right? I love her! I’ve always loved her. How could I not be in love with he-
“I think…” her words snapped me out of my trance, “that you love the idea of me.” She smiled softly. “I think you need to take some time for yourself, before you can ever be in love. How are you supposed to love someone if you don’t first love yourself?”
Her question swirled in my mind.
Was I living a lie?
“Sometimes… we fall in love with the idea of someone, but not the person themselves.”
I open my eyes, my surroundings are blurry and indistinguishable as I blink the forced sleep from my eyes. The room comes into view, it’s a small cement chamber with one window and one door, a stereotypical kidnapping room.
These guys really need a new bit, the “cement chamber” is getting old, and he seriously tied me to a wooden chair? I thought these people would start to get some tips to keep people in there hold.
The zip ties he zipped around my wrists started to bite into my already scarred wrists. I don’t cut myself, don’t get it confused. I’ve just been zip tied far too many times in my lifetime.
I’m 23, my name is Lacy, and I get kidnapped… a lot. It’s kind of my job. I was recruited 6 years ago to be a part of a special unit of the FBI dedicated to catch killers and kidnappers and anyone else committing crimes against people. I was hired to go into situations where I’m trying to be kidnapped, and I’m really good at it.
I sigh and hop jumped as best and hard as I could onto the floor, it took a few tries but eventually the chair splintered.
“Oh great I hate this part,” I said as I shoved my wrists apart and broke the zip tie. “FFFIDDLESTICKS IT NEVER HURTS LESS” I said as I shook my hands. I undid my leg bindings and opened the door which was, stupidly, unlocked. The air was stale and the room looked to be an empty basement.
“Yay more stereotypes,” I said as my kidnapper walked down the stairs.
“How did you get out?!” He yells at me. I roll my eyes.
“It’s my job.” He charges at me and I slam his head against the wall, he crumpled to the floor. I pull his phone out of his pocket and dial my bosses number.
“Yeah we have another one.”
Krissa is a girl. She’s alright I guess. I don’t know, there’s not a lot more to say about her. She talks so much it’s almost annoying… scratch that, it’s very annoying.
But we’re friends.
I guess.
“… so me and Jenna were talking and I was like OH MY GOSH he’s so crazy I mean how could he possible dump her… Jay are you even listening to me? My story is very important!” Krissa says pouting.
“I really can’t stand you.”
“Then why are you still listening?” She said with a sly grin.
“I’m not.” I lied. I do listen, but I’d never tell her that. She’s my only real… friend.
“Hey Jay? Can I tell you something…?” She fiddles with her cuticles.
“You’re going to even if I say No, so go ahead.”
“I.. I kinda like you.”
“I mean, yeah, we’re friends or whatever.”
“No.. I really like you.. not as a friend.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.
“Please respond you’re scaring me!” She starts biting her nails, a nervous habit she quit years ago.
“I don’t know what that feels like, you’re my first friend so I don’t know what more than a friend would feel like.” I shrug, I say that but I do know. You just… know.
“Oh.. ok.” She looks deflated, I can’t stand it.
“Kiss me.”
“… what?” She looks confused, I can’t blame her, I’m confused as to why I said that too.
“Kiss me.. please.”
I expect her to protest or just look confused, but she doesn’t. Instead, she places her hand on my cheek, leans forward, and kisses me. Her hand was warm on my cheek, her lips were soft against mine. She’d kissed guys before and I knew it, but I’d never kissed a girl, or anyone for that matter. Just the thought made me pull away and back up.
“Hey… what’s wrong?” She asked gently. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“I…” I turned and walked away. That was a week ago, I haven’t talked to her since. She didn’t follow me, so she doesn’t want me. Simple as that.
Your eyes fly open, your breathing is ragged and your lungs are on fire, tears sting your eyes as you remember these awful nightmares. The demons made you watch as they ripped your person from your hands and tore them limb from limb. They made you watch as your person screamed your name, begging for help that you couldn’t give. You watched the life leave their eyes. Tears streamed down your face as you remember the pain in those memories. You check the time, 5:04 AM, you decide there’s no way you’ll be able to go back to sleep.
You walk into the bathroom and flick the light on, the bright fluorescent lights make you cringe. You walk up to the sink and splash water on your face, hoping to wake you up enough to forget those awful memories. When you look in the mirror, something seems… off. You can’t place it, but something is different. Your eyes are the same color they’ve always been, your hair is still the same color… you look back at your eyes. Are they the same color?
“No, you’re going crazy” you tell yourself. But there’s something about you eyes, you can’t place it but they look… different. You rub your eyes and look back in the mirror. You scream in horror when you finally see what’s wrong. Your eyes… they aren’t yours… they’re your persons eyes. You watch in horror as your face changes before your eyes, you morph into your person, an exact replica of the person you love so dearly. You close you’re eyes.
You’re dreaming you must be dreaming you’re going to open your eyes and it’s all going to be over it was just a nightmare. This is just another nightmare it isn’t real.
You open you’re eyes and… you’re in bed. You breathe a sigh of relief as you realize it was a nightmare. You check your phone, 6:29 AM. One minute before your alarm, a normal occurrence now. You turn your alarm off and go to the bathroom. You glance in the mirror and scream.
Nightmares aren’t always fiction.
The crown. It is the Prized possession of the royal family and the country of Colimina. The crown has been passed down from generation to generation for over 300 years. Queen Esdeath and Prince Kabine look nearly identical, sand blond hair, tall and thin in stature, tan skin and naturally rosy cheeks. The most striking resemblance, no matter the many others, is very clearly their eyes, Downturned almond shapes colored a deep, crimson red. They were beautiful and haunting. Many of her subjects rumor that she got her eyes from being a witch, that she possessed the king to marry her and then poisoned him so she was in control. The queen has never been spoken to face to face as long as anyone can remember. In fact, no one seems to remember ever hearing the prince or the Queen speak… ever. Many young women have tried to woo the prince, often through scandalous outfits and risqué letters, though all are ignored by the boy. That is until today. The Queen and Prince were seen riding to the airport where a girl stepped off of a private plane. This girl had brown hair tied up in a messy bun, a pullover around her waist, a simple black tee shirt and jeans with Tears in them. She looked around wide eyed and shocked as a large, burly man carried her small suitcase off the plane. The girl ran down the steps, skipping a few on her way and tried to open the car door before a black clad body guard stopped her and opened it for her. She did an off balance curtsy before hopping in the car.
JANET
My Foreign exchange family is AWESOME. First, I flew on a private Jet, Then I got picked up by a limo and NOW I’m standing in front of a CASTLE. The only thing that could make this better is if there were actual unicorns and dragons. My family is kinda quiet but they seem nice. Kabine is pretty nice, he’s cute but I don’t think he likes me very much. My best friend Jen texted me BEGGING to expose all of the “dirty little secrets this country has to offer,” her words. This country is… interesting. There isn’t much to do here so far but I suppose there isn’t going to be. I miss my mom and my friends… this is rough.
Overnight it seems I went from renowned to crazy.
You wouldn’t believe anyone claiming they know God. Would you?
Of course not. My, my, child, you truly do seem curious.
Oh, alright. I’ll tell you.
When I was a young lad, not much older than you, I thought I Ruled the world. I was wrong.
I was the top of my class, all A’s, a “genius” as my teacher called me… the same teachers who later told the news I was psychotic.
They were liars… every last one of them.
In science, you learn that people don’t enjoy change. In science, there is no room for God… I thought that too… until that night. The night that changed everything.
People loved me, they looked up to me. Many young children aspired to be like me. In studying protons and space and time rifts, I discovered something spectacular. I opened a rift, a wormhole.
I wish I never discovered what I had discovered.
The hole was a bright white glowing tear, and from it I heard a voice.
The voice told me I had found God. I had discovered the mysteries of life. Images flashed through my brain of the world and every solution to every problem man would ever have.
I had reached enlightenment.
I tried to turn to the world with my discoveries but they called me a lunatic. My wife took our child - your father - and ran. I was locked away in this grimy metal brain jail.
I’m not crazy. I know what I saw.
If you can’t believe me… ask the light.
You found me when I was my lowest, when my depression would control me. You picked me up, you took me somewhere safe, you made me feel ok. I was ok.
We talked every day, you always made sure you were there when I needed you. You always made sure I was ok. You loved me. And I loved you.
And then he came along.
“We can be friends,” you said. “I promise I’ll still be here,” you lied. You weren’t there. I needed you and you weren’t there.
What about all the promises you made? You promised you loved me. You promised you would never leave me. How could you?! You broke me.
So I killed him.
I killed him, and you found me sitting in your living room hours after. If I couldn’t have you I wanted to make sure you knew I loved you, and then I would make sure no one else could have you either.
The click of a bullet in a chamber. The crack of a skull. The silence.
My laugh rang through the quiet house. You were finally mine, no one else could have you. I promised I would follow you to death.
I never break a promise.
I’ve known him since the day I started kindergarten.
We both hate math.
We’re best friends.
I love him like a brother… I swear there’s nothing else…
He’s gotten tall over the 16 years I’ve known him.
I wish I didn’t have to see him like a brother, but he’s dating some girl…
Plus he doesn’t like me like that
But I’ll be ok.
I hope.
