We had broken the law and were now were sentenced to our grim fate. Condemned to the strict laws of our Government, the country was trapped inside some chess game. All lower and middle class citizens deemed expendable in this fight against each other. Only the king the one who must survive. People sought justice. People sought fairness and people sought safety. Then there were the upper class citizens. If they had the ability to, or were able to afford, the Governments influence they became more valuable and therefore much safer. Each day everyone were forced to go to the town square were we watched the daily execution of several ‘traitors’.

Now it was my turn to die in front of the crowds and crowds of people. It was mandatory viewing hence the great mass of people standing in front of the stage. This was so unfair. Blaire and I neared the stage and we shared one last look at each other affirming my worst nightmares. We were both going to die and there was nothing we could do. We were two helpless children twelve years old who had knotted themselves too deep into the old conspiracies travelling across the town.

What i thought of the political parties that control our country; they are so weak and fragile that two broken girls that spread a rumour about a revolution at school are sentenced to death. BANG! I hear the crash of the floorboard and know that someone just lost their life at the gallows. The small line of people shuffled closer to the stage. We were concealed from everyone as we had gotten into a last-minute formation underneath a decrepit grandstand people had foraged through for supplies. Now the rusty remains provided very little shade but great camouflage from others.

Another bang of the board falling down and the last words they screamed; ‘Ma,M-‘ (In dedication to Sejanus Plinth from the Hunger Games, his last words being exactly that).

I dreaded the time I would have to walk onto the stage, where I would stand as the officers tied the noose around my neck and lift me onto the swinging board were suddenly I would drop and I would die. I wondered for a while what would my last words be? Tell my family I loved them? Ask for world piece? Just scream for my own mercy?

The pain in my chest grew and I tightened the restricting hold I had around myself. It was as if I have a hole on the inside of my stomach and the only thing keeping me together were my hands. A person beside me sensed my discomfort and gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. I turned around and realised it was one of my school teachers.

I let out a cry of sadness and wrapped my arms around her fragile body. I cried into her hair, and just stood there unmoving for what seemed like hours but at the same time not long enough. She muttered something inaudible but my twisted sobs were drowning out any last remnants of her reassurances. I had kept it together with Blaire but seeing my primary school teacher had opened the floodgates.

The stale musty air was filled with the metallic smell of blood and I glanced forward and saw the pools of blood on the floor. Bile built up my throat but I remembered that at least my death would be quick right? We shuffled forward again and I let out another twisted sound like a wounded animal crying for help. This time Blaire comforted me. But it didn’t help, my inevitable death loomed closer and denying would prove nothing but my weakness.

In a blur of colour and screams I stood on the board and tears stung my eyes. I turned to my one and last friend tears also glistening on her cheeks. I reached for her but an officer kicked me in the stomach and I doubled over in pain. This time when they tied the rope around my neck I showed no signs of restraint my tears falling freely, but my arms staying in place. I stayed silent but Blaire showed no signs of strength crying and thrashing.

More cries. More screams. More blood. So much more blood. And then the floor dropped and I had no time to say a word.

Oh no. I look awful. I can’t wear this dress… and these shoes, no, no, no! What was I thinking when I went shopping?! Just because my dates ugly and unpopular doesn’t mean I have to be.

I was, I should say, grasping at straws. No one was asking me… me, the popular, loved, wanted Jeanette McIntyre. I gave not-so-subtle hints to the cutest boys in the grade, but all of them were already taken. And then this dude from my algebra class who had been googly-eyeing me all week came up to my with a single rose and asked me to the dance.

Was I just supposed to rudely turn him down? He’s nice and not that unfortunate looking… but he’s no Tom Holland. That was Monday. It’s Friday, the night of the dance. Now, for some reason, my palms are sweating. But I don’t even like Carter, so… hm.

I study myself in my full-length mirror. My sky blue dress is the perfect shade for me, with subtle flecks of green that bring out my eyes. It comes just above my knees, and isn’t tight but isn’t too flowy. My shoes are cute little white heels, nothing that makes me look like I’m trying. I curled my auburn and brown hair, which is naturally straight, got French tips on my nails, and applied light makeup, which I don’t usually wear.

Just as I’m finishing up, the doorbell rings. It’s probably Carter. I gulp and rush down to answer it. I plaster a smile on my face just as it opens and Carter’s grinning face greets mine.

“Hey, Jean,” he says. Jean? Only my close friends call me that. But I’m not going to get off to a bad start already.

“Heyyy,” I say through my teeth. “You’re ready?”

He nods, beaming. “Are you?” I feel so bad… I don’t like him that way. He holds out his hand, and I reluctantly take it and try to hide my disgust. Just then, of course, my parents come rushing over with a camera.

I freeze, my eyes wide. “No, Mom. No!”

Mom wilts. “Come on, baby. This is your first-“

“Come on Carter!” I pull him out the door into the frigid night, still fake smiling. Lord. It’s going to be so hard to keep up the fake happy act all night.

At the dance, which is under the sea themed, by the way, I immediately try to find my friends, Clara and Mackenzie. I spot them under a floating seashell near the beverage table with their dates, two popular football jocks. I gulp and drop Carters hand, which he insisted I hold the entire way here.

“Hey!” I say excitedly, approaching my best friends.

“Jean! You look awesome!” Mackenzie says, hugging me.

Clara nods, beaming, and hugs me too. “Yeah. My dress is so plain.” It’s really not. It’s elegant and ivory.

I tilt my head. “It’s really pretty, but it kind of looks like a wedding dress.” Clara blushes wildly, staring at her date, Chase.

As I brush by my friends to get drinks, I hiss in Mackenzie’s ear, “Carter’s awful.” She seems to get the hidden message and nods subtly and winks.

I pick up a cup and dunk it in the fruit punch, before remembering both that my mom warned me never to drink out of the punch bowl at high school dances and that I’m not that thirsty anyways. I sigh and hold the cup, deciding not to take a sip. I do notice that some of the football dudes are looking a little… on the wild side.

I mutter a string of curses and head back to Carter. This night is going to be so disastrous.

It was finally here. I had been dreading this day for weeks and now it was here. I adjusted my cross body backpack strap for the zillionth time a nervous habit I developed in early childhood. When I started preschool and was continuously adjusting and readjusting the straps on my little Wonder Woman backpack. Now my backpack was plain black but with blue trim. I sigh when I see Tracy pulling up to my house to pick me up. I used to have my mom or dad drive me but with Tracy getting her license it became more convenient for her to pick everyone up. I trudged over to the VW bus and climbed into the front seat beside Tracy. “Ready for the first day of our junior year?” “You know how much I hate the first day of school.” “Oh come on it’s not that bad.” “Speak for yourself, for me it is that bad. I just count the minutes until I get to go home and retreat to the sanctuary of my bedroom or actually preferably Draya’s bedroom because I have a feeling that I am going to need some major cuddles after school; at least for a little while.” “I’d be willing to cuddle with you.” “That’s different; with you it’s platonic and you’re great and all but I need romantic cuddles and affection.” “I get that, I know that after a stressful day all I want is to be held by my man.” “I am just waiting for the day to end and will be marking off the days on my calendar till the end of the school year.” We picked up Hallie next who was excited to catch up on all the school gossip. “It’s the first day Hallie there is no gossip yet.” I pointed out to her. “With the way I catch up there will be.” she said. Then we picked up Kelsey who as soon as she entered the bus took off the long sleeve white button up shirt revealing a black tank top underneath with the tiniest bit of cleavage showing. Her parents normally would never let her out of the house wearing that shirt hence the long sleeve button up. After that we picked up Raquel who was was actually excited about junior year. Tracy parked the VW in the student parking lot and we all made our way into the school to our first class. My first class was English which Hallie had with me I was grateful for that. After that was algebra which I hated, even though I was good at it. I always hated it. Then I had foods class and was happy that Brian, Raquel and Kelsey were also taking the class and thankfully we were allowed to choose our own groups. Then I had ceramics with Tracy. To my surprise I was actually having an okay first day and was looking forward to a couple of slices of pizza for lunch. My friends and I sat at our usual table in one of the secluded corners of the cafeteria. That is when things went downhill. “Well if it isn’t the loser squad.” Said the overly feminine voice of one Nicole Kingman. She had once been part of our small group until she got a taste for the popular lifestyle around the sixth grade and completely changed. She stood there with a air of superiority that she thought she had. She was wearing an outfit that definitely wasn’t fallowing the dress code; a red spaghetti, strap crop top and a black mini skirt so short that if she bent over you would see her ass. I was sure that at some point one of the teachers would make her call her shopaholic, stay at home mother, to bring her a proper outfit. She wouldn’t. She would say something along the lines of “Just let her finish the day in what she has on and I’ll make sure she wears something that fallows the dress code tomorrow.” I used to feel sorry for Nicole, her mother never paid her much attention and mostly expected her to take care of herself but that was because her mother had grown up spoiled and entitled and had neither the skills, patience, or maturity to raise a child. No Nicole was raised, mostly by her father, a hard-working and kind man. Unfortunately, she began to turn out like her mother a spoiled brat who got whatever she wanted. Nicole had long honey blonde hair and big blue eyes and a fair unblemished complexion but she had very thin lips and a nose that seemed to small for her face but she thought she was super model material. She wasn’t. “Get lost bitch!” said Tracy. “Sorry I don’t talk to trailer trash.” Nicole said sticking her nose in the air. “What do you want queen harpy?” Hallie asked. “What do I need an excuse to come and see some old friends?” Nicole asked with false innocence. “Former friends; you stopped being our friend a long time ago.” Said Kelsey. “Just because I rose in the social ranks is no reason for any of you to be bitter.” “We ain’t bitter but we don’t associate with she devils.” said Raquel. “And what do you say Sarah? Do you share these feelings?” I didn’t speak only nodded. She wasn’t worth me wasting my breath on “Oh that’s right, I forgot you don’t like to talk to people outside your little circle do you? And you call me stuck up.” I still didn’t answer. “You know Sarah, if you weren’t so antisocial you wouldn’t still be single.” “I’m not.” I finally said. “Oh so you found someone willing to put up with your introvert nonsense?” “Just because she’s an introvert and you can’t understand that doesn’t make it nonsense!” Tracy said. “Like I care what trailer trash Tracy thinks.” “Get lost skank!” I snapped at her. Nobody messed with my friends. “What did you call me?” Nicole said clearly insulted. “Skank or was that to complicated for you to understand? Maybe I should use your nickname from elementary school Nasty Nicki?” “You bitch!” she said and made a move towards me. I think she was going to try to hit me but before she was able to she was blocked by a metal lunch tray being held by none other than Brian. “Nicki, Nicki, Nicki, now I know you were not atemting to hurt one of my girl’s close personal friends were you?” he said tone casual, and smooth “And so what if I was?” She asked in a bitchy tone “Because if you so much as spat at Sarah my girl along with her friends would jump up and down on your stupid over inflated head and then probably murder you just for laughs and I know none of us want that right?” Brian explained to her. Nicole looked around at our group with a glare before saying “You losers are not even worth my time and Sarah you most definitely are not worth it.” she said before storming off “Good riddance.” I said as I watched her go then turned to look at Brian and smiled. “Thanks for the assistance Brian.” “Hey anybody messes with my girl, or one of her friends and they mess with me; plus y’all know you are my sisters from another mister and I protect my own.” “Still thanks your great.” After lunch was Spanish then PE, which I had with all my friends, then biology and then another study hall which Tracy also had. We spent most of the time passing notes only because that particular study hall teacher had a strict no talking rule. The last full minute of class I stared at the clock counting the seconds as they ticked by. Finally the bell rang letting us go. “So you want me to drop you off at home or at Draya’s house?” Tracy asked me. “Neither. Draya is going to pick me up from school and I am spending the night at her house, so you don’t have to pick me up tomorrow, Draya will take me.” “Okay cool see you tomorrow,” she said taking off to the student parking lot. “See you tomorrow.” I say waving goodbye and heading towards the front of the school. I see Draya parked out front and begin making my way to her, but before I can get to her my path is blocked by none other than Nicole and Richie. “Oh great dumb and dumber…what do you want?” I asked clearly not in the mood for this. “To get even and this time your little friends aren’t around to save you.” she said sounding pleased with herself for getting me alone. “No but I am” I smiled there stood Draya who was at least a foot taller than Nicole “And who are you?” Nicole said attempting to sound superior. “Her girlfriend and I highly suggest you step away from her now.” her tone was threatening and dangerous and I found it absolutely sexy Nicole and Richie backed off instantly and Nicole was actually hiding behind Richie It was hilarious because as if Richie could do anything to stand against Draya. Honestly he would barely even slow her down. I smiled wide and instantly enveloped my angel in a hug ”Awww did someone miss me?” “You have no idea; now let’s get the hell out of here the sooner we get to your place the sooner I get my cuddles.” “You’ll hear no disagreements from me” “Cause you can’t say no to me and cuddles” I said as she lead me to her car. When we got to Draya’s house we went straight up to her room. We ordered Chinese food then turned on the flat screen and watched cold case on HBOMAX for the rest of the night. All things considered maybe my first day of junior year wasn’t so bad after all.

THE END story continues in story titled Homecoming Night

The day you have been dreading has finally arrived. Is it your wedding, The guests in disguise.

Family now waiting Bride in the wings Groom’s now debating Weather to stay and sing

But nerves got the best The groom starts to shuffle Bride’s lost her bet Groom’s got to Hussein Tessa🦋

Fact: Flying fish can take to the air at 37 mph.

Shhhhh. DD! I hear something.

Jrrr, jrrr, jrrr…Click

Creeeeeak.

“Alriiiight!” exclaims a debatably east coast accent from around the corner. “The key still works.”

Post an anxious glance at Jawafra, you rake papery fingers through your lengthy hair, taking care to cover your e- I mean, your face. You pull white-framed spectacles from your left hip pocket and your eyelids flutter as the world comes into view. The walls are so dark and narrow, it’s almost like peering through a telescope.

There’s a woman in the doorway. You recognize her to be Tabitha’s…daughter? Niece? No - goddaughter. Yes, didn’t Tabitha raise her best friend’s little girl for a time? You’d been with Tabitha for years and never once did you see this kid come round. Why is she here now? Cleaning or further cluttering? Or maybe claiming bits and bobbles? There’s certainly enough cactus paraphernalia to go around.

Ooop. Step back. Bull in a china shop. I wonder, what’s her rush?

“Sour Patch!” cheers the woman, her entire face swallowed by a cupboard. She reaches in a few more times. Cereal, gherkins and crisps. (Oh, whoops, I mean “pickles and chips.” 15 years in the US and I’m still baffled. Modern American English is absolutely absurd! I was just getting current with the colloquialisms back home.)

What is this young woman’s name? Jordan? Jenna? Jinxy? I like the name Jinxy. Let’s go with that for now.

You notice how Jinxy looks…off, somehow? She looks… calmly bruised. You know? Puffy eyes, well-kept locs. Shaky breathing, steady hands. She’s whistling. Sad people don’t whistle, right? Well, if experience has taught us anything, it’s that grievers are unpredictable.

Jinxy carries her plunder into the livingroom, and sets up a gaming console. You know it’s a Playstation 2. The game, however, is unfamiliar to you. She must’ve brought it along. Everything you know about videogames comes from Tabitha. When she wasn’t writing, she was teaching you the difference between an MMORPG and a Hack & Slash…or are they called Beat ‘em Ups? Are dungeon crawlers and walking simulators the same thing?

After three hours of shifting your gaze between the gamer and the screen, your impatience makes an appearance.

Predictable you are, predictable you will always be.

You place a hand on Jinxy’s forehead as you glare at the television.

A few glitches and a corrupted save file later, Jinxy’s eyes blaze.

“WHY?!” shouts Jinxy as she hurls the wired controller across the room. The attached console twists and teeters over the edge of the television stand. Jinxy hurls herself on the floor to catch it and yelps. Once the console is safely returned, she inspects her right knee and growls. Yikes. Rug burn.

She gets up and paces. Our injured guest now appears to have new eyes for this rundown two-bedroom stack of bricks.

The floors squeak beneath her slippered stomps. It’s been a while since you’ve heard the comforting sound of footsteps.

Jinxy balls her fists and further explores the house. She reaches out for the doorknob to Tabitha’s study and hears something crash in the next room over.

Nice work, DD. You’re becoming quite the Foley artist.

Jinxy flings open Tabitha’s bedroom door and marches in. A knee to a sharp-cornered brass end table shifts her attention in the right direction. Perfect. She’s on the floor fanning her re-troubled knee.

Give her a moment. You got Jenna Bromberg’s attention in a similar fashion.

While still on the floor, Jinxy scans the room. I wonder how much has changed since she lived here. Were the walls always this cluttered? Rows and rows of travel memorabilia take up almost every inch. Framed maps, signed post cards… images with friends. There’s even a picture of you up there, but I assume Realities only see a subjectless and semi-blurry cityscape. What a wonderful trip to San Francisco that was.

Ahem. I digress.

Jinxy grips the foot of the pillow-encumbered bed and pulls herself up.

She steps on your brother.

She picks him up, another mixed expression on her face. Is she angry/curious Annoyed/fearful? Regretful/uncertain?

Whatever expression that is floats away like dandelion seeds in summer wind as she flips through Jawafra’s copper-red pages. You smile as your brother glows the way he always does when he’s netted you an anchor. Oh, gosh, praises be! How on earth did he know to wait here? Never mind that. Go, DD! Speak!

“Hello,” you say.

You’d think after 100 years, a creature would get good at something.

Jinxy seems not to notice you. Try again and this time, use more words.

“Hello…there.”

Sigh. Not the greatest but at least she’s looking up. She’s no idea where the voice is coming from, the poor mortal. Are we standing behind her? Switch glasses. Ooop. Yes. Ok, walk all the way arou-

“WHOA!” Jinxy shouts while pulling Jawafra close to her side. “What the heck?!”

Protective instincts. Good.

You laugh and give a slight bow. “There’s no need to hide my brother from me.”

And it all goes downhill from there. At least, for me it does. I had to sit there listening to the two of you drone on and on for what felt like hours. She mistakes you for a fellow former ward of Tabitha Boone. She offers you a handshake. You instead give her a meek nod. She offers you some food. You pass on that as well.

She gives you her name, Annigan (RIP Jinxy). She offers you Tabitha’s bedroom to crash in while she takes the couch. You are so stunned by someone - a Reality no less - treating you like a regular person…or better yet, a valuable person, you forget to tell her you’re imaginary. You forget to request her as an anchor. You rest your head in Tabitha’s room and for the first time in a long time, you dream. Pleasant dreams about friends of all sorts. A horned maiden and a wizard beard. Giggling eels and a dainty giraffe.

When you wake up the next morning, the house is tidy, save a box of cereal with a bowl and spoon on the kitchen table. You sit and pretend to eat, if only to have the pleasure of what it must feel like to receive that sort of care.

That’s nice and all, right? Heartwarming, I assume. So then riddle me this, DD. How is it that an entire day has passed and your new friend is nowhere to be found? And um…where did your brother go?

(The following passage was taken from the very last page in Jason’s diary.)

Today is finally the day. I, Jason Strange, will finally be let out of prison. I’ve dealt with other inmates beating me up, making me bleed out until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’ve got scars all over my body because of it, so many that it looks like I tried to remove my own skin.

I’ve been given glares the entire time I’ve been in prison. I’ve been seen as a monster by many, to some, a psychopath. But I was controlled, like I’ve said so many times before. I can’t wait to prove to the world that I’m still the guy I’ve always been and will continue to be.

When I get out in ten minutes, I’ll be going to the graveyard to see my dead brother and father. I’m going to give them an apology for what I have caused. They shouldn’t have died.

Next, I’m going to try and get back with my dearly beloved Lucky. I missed being with her so much. I know that she’s missed me as well, so I’ll be elated to be her man again.

Finally, I’m leaving you in the hands of someone else, diary. I can’t let the evidence of me being innocent go to waste. Thank you for being there for me for all the times I’ve not been myself. Thank you for letting me scream, vent, cry and weep.

Good night. Farewell. Goodbye. Jason Strange.

I know how it goes. They think they’ve tricked me—my students. Most told me they’d be absent the last day before Christmas break, but what parent would give up a day of free child care?

And so they stampede the halls like elephants, flipping off any light switch they pass, running at different rates. Most of them arrive to class. I ask where the missing students are. Kandra is one. One says, “I think she’s smoking in the bathroom.” Another starts yelling, “Nicotine! Nicotine!”

I know the secret rules here. I know that if I call their bluff and go to the bathroom, the other kids will tell her, “That teacher is a pervert, he’s out to get you.” And they’ll follow it with, “We’re you’re friends, we’d never narc on you. Snitches get stitches! Snitches get stitches!” You see, kids always believe who they like. I’m not afraid of pint sized gangster wannabes. I just know that if the girl has a real problem, I’d be the weirdo for assuming otherwise. It’s easy for her to say she had one.

And the boys go on. “Yeah, that’s because he lets the girls get away with anything.” I think to myself… job security. Don’t be the weird guy who calls the girl out of the bathroom.

I go across the hallway to an elder woman teacher. “Hey, a few boys said a girl went to the bathroom with an issue. Can you make sure she’s okay?” She says okay and goes to check on her.

I go back to watch my little trouble makers. One already pulled out a rubber band crossbow with skewer ammo, and he’s having another kid hold a notebook with a drawn target on it. I walk over and take it. “Awww, do I get it back at the end of class?” I’ll be dealing with him asking for the next hour.

The girl finally walks in. “Why did Mrs. Fred have to walk in?” She goes to her seat as I tell the rest to sit down. A few stay up. I say it again, and they finally sit.

I start a lecture. A few are so hyped for break, they start to talk. I stop. “Hey guys, he’ll get mad… stop.” says one. Why would he say that… I realize I’m frowning.

I look at my plans for today, a lesson that includes a picture to color. I was sure I’d planned a fun day in here.

“So today, I think it’s time to break from the norm. We are just going for a walk. Get your coats, it’s 58 outside.”

I wake up with the alarm, with a sinking feeling of dread in my chest. I go through my morning routine stressed out. I just want to get this day over and done with. Today I testify in court. I’ve been summoned to give an expert testimony, a psych evaluation. The defendant has made an insanity plea but my findings contradict that claim. My mouth is so dry, I fear I won’t be able to annunciate my statement. But I calmly take the stand and focus on the lawyer’s questions. I breathe evenly and deeply, forcing myself to say only the facts. When I state the conclusion that I arrived at, there is silence in the courtroom. I am afraid to look at the defendant; I can feel her glare at me. “No further questions.” I step down, shaking.

It’s happening It’s finally here They say I have nothing to fear And yet my legs tremble My tears burn my eyes And I am still struggling

He told me I was pretty And sweet Told me I was unique I believed him I needed him And then he pinned me to a wall

I know I said no Know I protested Yet I’m still being questioned While he sits there Waiting for the verdict And still thinking he did nothing wrong

The jury came back Their eyes on me Expressions of sorrow and grief They thought he was guilty But it doesn’t fix me Why did I think it would fix me?

He’ll go to jail I’ll still be in hell Hearing him whisper not to tell His breath hot on my neck While I try to forget - What happened

It’s happening It’s finally here They say I have nothing to fear And yet my legs tremble My tears burn my eyes And I am still struggling

He told me I was pretty And sweet Told me I was unique I believed him I needed him And then he pinned me to a wall

I know I said no Know I protested Yet I’m still being questioned While he sits there Waiting for the verdict And still thinking he did nothing wrong

The jury came back Their eyes on me Expressions of sorrow and grief They thought he was guilty But it doesn’t fix me Why did I think it would fix me?

He’ll go to jail I’ll still be in hell Hearing him whisper not to tell His breath hot on my neck While I try to forget - What happened