My heart sometimes aches with longing for you, but I cannot bring myself to express it when I know you do not like me. It hurts when you say you’re unlovable; Tis I who loves you! But I could never say that. It hurts, yes. It hurts. It hurts when you sit across from me at the table, jokingly shipping me with anyone but yourself. It hurts as we play truth or dare, and I pick dare almost every time to avoid telling you the name of my crush. Yep, I am in pain. But for you, I shall endure. I will carry on, say no more. You are a fantastic friend who deserves no less; for this I’ll keep my secret and shall not confess. I’ll try my best to remind you when you say you aren’t intelligent; intelligence is more than maths. I know you’re bad at that, but oh, how insanely clever you are at everything else. How you recite poems, quotes, songs, stories. You remember and hold dear people of the past, tales from so long ago. I wish you’d realize this profound intelligence you possess. It aches, yes. It aches more than anything I have ever felt. My love for you is so grand that I’d not say to keep you safe from the wave of emotions that telling you would drown you in. I cannot tell you; not now. Perhaps someday, when we are old and I am able to joke about it. Yes, perhaps I’ll tell you then. But until then, I will wait. Perhaps you will grow to love me in that time, who knows? I hope. Oh god, do I hope.

“Ciel-”

“You if I could take it back I would,” Colin said. He shifted in the chair next to my hospital bed. Aunt Cami told me it would be good to talk to him. But she wasn’t the one who had lost her Mom. “Just say something please,” Colin whispers, I can hear the faintest sound of tears creeping into his voice. The thing is, I don’t want to say something. If I open my mouth the only words that will come out will be my pain. And even though it was Colin who killed my mother, he didn’t deserve pain. No one did. Colin leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I can see his eyes more clearly now. A dark brown, it reminds me of soil right after a thunder storm. “I’m really sorry,” Colin says, “And I’m going to make it up to you. No matter how many times you tell me to get lost or tell me nothing will fix what I’ve done.” The corners of my mouth almost break into a smile. But I hold it back, I’m not going to smile at the boy who drove into my car and killed my mother. Even though what he’s saying does make me feel like there’s no reason to be mad at him. I can’t smile or pretend like he isn’t the one who turned my life upside down. Colin straights up and I realize that I’ve been thinking for five minutes. “I mean it,” Colin says, “I really do.” I nod my head once, to let him know I understand. That maybe in the future, the far away future I’ll forgive him.” Colin stands up, his blonde hair falling over his forehead. “Just one thing,” Colin says, “I know you won’t answer but I was just wondering if you have a name.” I wanted to speak to say what my name was, but something was keeping my lips from parting. Colin stares into my eyes, “Alright then, since you don’t seem to have a name I’ll call you. . .Belle. Because I ruined your life so that makes me the beast and you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen so that makes you Belle.” Colin lifts a hand in a small wave before leaving the room. I feel like I’ve been hit by something. By a basket ball, but it didn’t hurt. It just surprised me. “Belle,” I whisper, smiling to myself. Maybe there was a chance that I would forgive him. Maybe there was a chance that I would find what I had always wanted.

I’m not crazy! Why do I hear all these voices in my head? No! I swear I’m not crazy! They can’t hear me though, I’m not talking, why aren’t I talking?

                                  “You’re not strong enough. They want you gone.”
                     “Give up. You have no reason to fight, you have no reason to live.”
             “They don’t deserve you!”                                                 “They don’t like you.”
       “Don’t want you…”              H        I see their staring.         S                 “Abandoned you.”
 “Don’t need you,”                      E     They all watch me.           A                         “Don’t trust you!”

“Replaced you.” L Voices surround me. V “Left you there,” “They hate you.” P They all stare at me. E “They are better.” “They’re kinder!” M Please be quieter. M “They’re smarter.” “You don’t deserve to live.” E E “You should kill yourself.” Why fight when you know you’ll lose? Why hope when the light is gone?

In the darkness The eyes stare The voices come from everywhere

In the darkness The words repeat, Before I find the courage to speak.

“Stop. Stop! Just shut up!”

You are in your world. Imaginary of course. You can hear prairie birds around you, You can feel golden grasses splintering and smoothing your feet (bare of course) It’s slightly cold. You breath deeply, smelling the morning. And you see the dips and curve of hills stretching into the distance. And blue sky.

A girl steps up to you, her feet crunching in the grass. you don’t really know where she came from, but she seems like she knows who you are somehow.

“I need your help”

She wipers, staring hard into your eyes. You stumble- confused, and out of your mouth tumbles the word:

“Why?”

I gasp for breath and struggle to stay on my feet as I round the corner, running as fast I can. I’m holding Emily’s hand and gripping it so hard I’m scared I might cut off the blood supply to her fingers. I glance back as I run to make sure she’s ok. There are tears welling up in her precious amber eyes as she struggles to keep up. I want to comfort her, tell her everything will be alright but deep down, I know that’s not true.

Red lights swirl overhead and alarms blare in our ears so loud I think I’m going deaf. Yellow ceiling lights flicker uncertainly and dark shadows loom at every turn.

I keep running, faster and faster and faster. I can’t stop, I can’t slow down. Our lives depend on it.

As I run, a million and one thoughts race through my mind but one thought proves stronger and more prominent than the others.

Keep. Running.

I’m all out of breath now, gasping and stumbling over my own two feet but I refuse to let go of her hand. Even if I die here, I must save her. I must give her a chance to live, a chance to live in freedom. A chance I never got.

I stumble around another corner, almost tripping, and collide with another person. I can’t see his face but he grabs my shoulder with an iron grip and I can feel Emily’s hand slip out of mine.

I feel the cold metallic end of a dagger against my throat and I instinctively point my head to the roof. The weapon reeked with the smell of blood and I could feel its edge begin to slowly pierce my skin.

The only smell stronger than that of the blade is the one of the man holding it. Tobacco, tequila and smoke. A scent I had known all my life. The scent of my father, of my rapist, and my soon to be murderer.

I look at my daughter, standing in front of me, frozen in place with fear written all over her face in permanent marker. Her eyes are as beautiful as ever but they look broken, shattered, as if they have witnessed every type of cruelty known to mankind; and indeed, they have.

I take a shaky breath, my last breath, and utter one last thing to her…

“Run.”

Emily ran up to me, her black hair blowing behind her. Everything about her made my heart stop. I gave her a smile as she held her hand out. “Ty,” she grabbed my hand, the feeling of hers in mine felt so safe. I wanted to stay like this the rest of my life. “Let’s go!” Her voice was so soft, she spoke quietly, like she was talking to a small scared animal. She pulled with her, I didn’t even ask where we were going, anywhere Emily went. I would go, even if it was into a dark cave, with spiders and snakes. I would face my biggest fears, just to follow Emily. I would do anything. Emily looked back at me, her light blue eyes glowing in the starlight. “This is it,” she let go of my hand and turned around, “It’s our meadow.” I smiled, five years ago we had buried a wooden box with our secrets. Emily had made me promise never to read hers. But I didn’t want to read hers, I wanted her to read mine. I wanted her to know the truth. Emily sat down on the ground staring up at the glittery sky. She giggled as a star shot across the sky. “Make a wish, Ty.” I sat down next to her, closing my eyes. I make the same wish every single night. I wish for me and Emily to always remain close. And as far as I can tell it’s looking good. I smile at Emily as she grabs hold of my hand, “Ty, I wish that you and me will get everything. The whole world. Even the bad parts.” I squeeze Emily’s hand, of course she wished for something like that. Something so perfect. Something vague but makes the perfect sense. Something faded but still looks new. I wrap my arm around Emily’s shoulder, letting her had rest against mine. Emily sighed as she looked at the sky, “Ty. I. . .” Emily stops, lifting her head. “I need to go,” she whispers. I help her stand, watching as she glides into the night leaving me alone. “Emily,” I whisper, “I love you.”

When climate change and politics aren't interesting enough, nothing gets viewers like a reclusive Billionaire pulling a Willy Wonka. If you were born after 1980, odds are you have no idea who Dr. Augustus Emerson is. Unless you've taken a psychology course, you have probably heard of Dr. Augustus Emerson. The renowned psychologist from Wisconsin married Claire Emerson, the last heir of the Emerson family fortune, on July 16th, 1959. A week into his marriage to Claire, Claire passed away in her family home in Massachusetts. The cause of death was concluded to be a seizure. It should be noted that epilepsy ran in the Emerson family and killed multiple family members, including her father, Franklin Emerson, who will forever be known as the man who bought the world with oil. Augustus poured his grief and new fortune into funding revolutionary psychological experiments and became the leading voice for behavioral psychology during the 60s and 70s. Dr. Emerson's generosity doesn't stop there; in honor of his late wife, he has created some of the world's most prominent non-profit organizations. In 1962, he started the Claire Emerson Foundation, which raises money for epilepsy research. In 1976 Emerson created Bundles of Joy, the first-ever Fertility clinic carrying out Claire's lifelong dream of helping women become mothers. After twenty years as a public figure, publishing multiple best-selling psychology books and memoirs, Augustus reportedly felt burnt out. In 1979 Dr. Augustus Emerson bought an island somewhere in the Indian Ocean and hasn't been seen publicly since. Dr. Emerson's donations have been responsible for making medications that make epilepsy a liveable condition and have helped over 10 million women have children. On top of that, he has continued to fund psychological research and multiple social experiments. More recently, Dr. Emerson bought the QRS entertainment company, which airs various shows that deal with causes Emerson has dedicated his life to. Through sitcoms about OBGYNs, Neurologist-led medical dramas, and documentaries surrounding his in-laws, Emerson has reached an entirely new generation. Not to mention creating the most successful television programs of the 90s. All from the comfort of his luxurious island. His most recent business venture is a reality competition show; since the turn of the century, reality competition shows have become a favorite pastime for the entire nation. With a single episode raking in over 7 million views, Emerson's new show will surely be a smash hit. Rumor has it that Dr. Emerson's show will be a giant social experiment, which is very on-brand for him. But Dr. Emerson is taking it a step further; he is making this new show an interactive experiment. Typically people apply to these shows, but Emerson is making even the application process a competition. Hiding ten plane tickets around the world. Sending the world into an anarchistic scavenger hunt for a chance to win a whopping $50 million prize. A representative from Emerson's estate publicly stated that “Emerson's life was changed when Claire Emerson chose him, deeming him worthy of not only her but her family's fortune. Dr. Emerson wants to pay that forward.” Yet, another way Emerson honored his late wife. The public knows virtually nothing of the competition besides the prize and its approximate location. Dr. Emerson's representative detailed that “Dr. Emerson wishes to keep every aspect of the competition a secret until all the episodes have been taped, edited and the winner has had time to adjust to their prize. Every lucky ticket holder is to keep this information to themselves, or risk being disqualified from the competition. If someone is disqualified, there will be no replacements. The public will only be made aware when all ten tickets have been claimed. Hidden amongst these plane tickets are undercover employees of Emerson's whose sole job is to discreetly escort the ticket holders to the competition. The tickets will be enclosed in an envelope with the iconic Black Emerson seal. All participant's absences from friends, family, and employers will be taken care of by EmersonCo. The representative concluded his statement with a warning to the public, "As a reminder, if you find one and make a scene, you will be disqualified and lose your chance of winning 50 million dollars. Thank you."

I turned off the tv, pulled the lever of my recliner, sped, walked straight to the phone, and called my girlfriend, Blue. She couldn’t believe how much money was up for grabs. Then I heard the stampedes of people running through the streets outside my apartment window. It was like Black Friday, but if Black Friday was on crack. So loud that she could barely hear me say. 
“50 million dollars, sign me up”. 

And that’s when the hunt that would eventually hunt me down and kill me began

Millions of words go unspoken each day, trapped in our throats, swallowed and drowned in the depths of our stomachs. These words become forgotten, lost to the world. Millions of words are forgotten each day.

8,134 lives have been claimed so far today. Though I won't burden you with the details of them all, one thing is certain: these people will fade into nothing. They will be forgotten over time.

Death is not what you might expect. It is everything you believe it is not. It's cotton candy clouds, melted chocolate, dancing shadows, and your favorite song. It exists in the middle, the beginning, and the end. Death is always alive.

Helplessly drifting through the sky, each soul finds its destination. Death guides these lost souls.

Gunpowder scatters across the crimson-stained sidewalk, carried by a gust of wind. The streets are empty and silent. Amidst it all, a man lies, the unspoken words resurfacing and choking him. He manages to utter just one question, "Who are you?"

In the blink of an eye, I swiftly seize his soul and respond, "I am death."

“WHAT?” Sarah asked.

“What do you mean what?” I replied. “Did I stutter?”

“No, I heard you clearly, but why!? Why her? You want to marry my pathetic silent of a sister over me!?? She’s never even talked!! How in the world do you expect to raise a family with someone so useless!!?”

“It doesn’t matter that she can’t speak. I love her, and that’s all that matters.”

“But-but SHES ALWAYS BEEN THE GOODIE TWO SHOES THAT MUMMY AND DADDY LOVED!!! She can’t get married before me!!! And not to someone as successful as you!!!”

“See, that’s the thing Sarah, I chose her over you, because you have a temper.” She was screaming at me to stay and marry her instead but I was already out the door and in the car before I could make out another word.

A week later, I proposed and she nodded yes. A year after that she was walking down the aisle in the most gorgeous dress of all time walking straight towards me.

“Do you Katerano Saveano take Kasandra Clearwater to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

And do you Kasandra Clearwater take Katerano Saveano to be your lawfully wedded husband?” I expect a nod but then she did the unimaginable...

“I do.”

She spoke.

Something is lurking and a eerie feeling  crawls up my spine, I try to ignore it looking for excuses to not close my eyes to not succumb to that darkness to not know what’s staring me through it yet my eyelids are heavy, and my lack of sleep is evident I faze in and out of sleep like I exist in the middle , where I don’t know how much time has passed or how much information I have missed. I cannot really call it sleep but but it isn’t consciousness either it’s more like… limbo the ability to just exist  not awake, but not asleep, conscious but not alert. Now I slowly realize that I’m not awake anymore that that darkness has overcome me. Sleep has won the battle between awareness. It’s scary My body feels cold. It feels like I’m falling, drowning even like I’m weak and unable to use my limbs or save myself, my limbs feel like they’re burning and a tingling sensation in each and every one of them I hear, distant voices, seemingly calling out to my name am I going insane, or am I already insane? My ears start to work, and I can finally hear who was calling out to me and what they were saying I can tell that they were trying to wake me up. I can feel the ability of my limbs turning on and light streaming in as I open my eyes, and I finally say “what’s wrong”  and they reply “you’re late for school.”