We’re done, that’s the last thing I ever heard from my girlfriend. I had lost everything, I had no friends or family my life sucked. If you’re anything like me you have nothing going for you. Let me explain how I got to be this way. It all started in middle school when I started playing on our football team… I had just turned 12 and was finally looking forward to going to school. I had a crush on a girl her name was Jasmine. I also had a best friend named Jared. Him and I had beens friends since kindergarten, and football practice was starting. It was going to be my best year ever at least that’s what I thought, but by the end of this year I learned something I learned what winning felt like and I got addicted to it… By my last year of middle school the only thing I thought about was winning. I had won so much that losing was a impossible option if I lost that meant that I was no longer worth anything. I had cut ties with Jared because he was holding me back from my potential all he cared about was his looks and what girls thought of him not winning… It was my freshman year and I had finally lost. to my best friend he stole the girl he knew I liked. I didn’t even make it onto the football team. I realized that I was worthless and I wasn’t capable of being #1. It made me so frustrated and annoyed. I wasn’t happy about this it was so devastating I had won everything except her I couldn’t let this happen, so I decided I was going to ruin his perfect image. I spent all of my freshman year spreading rumors about Jared, like how he was getting together with a teacher, and how he bought his way onto the baseball team… My sophomore year all the rumors I had spread stopped. He was still dating Jasmine who was supposed to be my girlfriend. I had to do something about this, this time I’m going to take action. I had decided to run him over. That way I’ll have won at something. I was too addicted to winning to see how my actions here would affect my future… That is how I lost everything

“Do you know what happens to cheaters, Henry?!” Screamed Jack.

“I didn’t cheat,” said Henry, desperately trying to calm Jack down.

“Yes you did, when I went to get a drink!”

“Jack, slow down. We can talk about this.”

Jack slowly began to walk forward, Henry mirroring him backwards.

“Stop it Jack, stop!” Henry cried. Jack rushed forward and rugby tackled him to the ground, twisting his arm behind his back.

Henry screamed, and a second later they heard a snap. Jack got off the now sobbing boy.

“So you broke my arm because I’m good at chess?” Henry muttered.

“What was that?” Asked Jack.

“Nothing,” Henry sniffed, clutching his arm.

“Y..yes…!”

Duncan quickly swallowed any further words he was about to blurt out triumphantly. I have to stop, he said to himself, otherwise his younger brother would’ve started crying, yelling and screaming at him, he was such a bad loser. It was not worth egging him on as Daniel had a knack of making his older brother’s life miserable.

“Hey, well played.”

Duncan’s little brother fought back his tears as he stammered.

“B.. but I lost..”

“I think I was a bit lucky Daniel. It happens. You played really well.”

Duncan had to tread carefully here. One wrong move and Duncan would be deemed a vicious criminal.

< I was just keeping him company with a game of Monopoly, why do I have to act as if I’m treading through a mine field in an attempt not to trigger anything? >

Duncan was exhausted.

< Wouldn’t it feel so good if I could declare game over, I won, you lost, big deal and walk away?! >

How Duncan wished his younger brother had the maturity to handle that.

Daniel was now like a wasp’s nest, dangling by a thread. Or teetering as if he was on a branch above Duncan’s head.. the similes he came up with made him cringe.

< I should have cheated to lose. >

When entertaining his younger brother, it was often worth loosing on purpose, just to keep the peace. Just so that Duncan didn’t have to handle his younger brother spit the dummy and have an epic tantrum, you see, no amount of “wins” were worth it.

“What on earth…?” I whispered, crouching next to the body. “And you have a new teammate now?”

“Yeah,” Lumen sighed. “Some strange girl with a mask. Seems pretty eager to play. How’d you do against your sister?”

“Tie. What did you expect? We have the same wings.”

“Mhm. Oh, hey, this is her! Music, meet…” He gestured wildly towards the door, and I turned to take a look at Sky’s opponent.

The mask was over her eyes, which was strange. Her hair was brown, streaked through with red and white, and though she smiled, it wasn’t very reassuring.

“Rhian Stathis,” she said, voice laced with a perfectly false sadness. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”

“Awful is putting it lightly. He’s had his head bashed in,” I mumbled. “Rhian Stathis, is it? You seem familiar…”

“I can assure you that we’ve never met before.”

I knew that much. But even so…

“Since when was Raina Storm participating?” Fala frowned, glaring at the screen.

“What?”

“That girl! Oh hell, Liv, tell Sky to move, now!”

Raina Storm.

And that was when it fell into place.

She’d beaten Livana’s team two Games ago, but in the second attempt that they took, failed to reach higher than fifth overall.

And she didn’t seem to like that.

Had she murdered… no, surely not… but all three of my teammates claimed that she was a cheater. Cheating in Royal Games. A criminal offence (not that Fala was totally innocent). Surely murder wasn’t too far of a stretch?

“LOOK OUT!” Fala shrieked at the screen, seemingly forgetting in her panic that Sky couldn’t hear her through it.

But it was too late anyway.

What can you say? To your best friend. Ex-best friend. When they steal away from you everything.

Slamming closed the front door you storm down their garden path. Not looking back. Seeing their soulful eyes welling up with pain and confusion, left you physically hurting. You mustn’t give into the tug of regret. Don’t even imagine them sobbing, broken on the living room floor. You were supposed to be elated for them, but bitterness bubbled to the surface. Jealousy stained your tongue with acidic words.

Icy claws dug into your shoulders as you plowed through powdery drifts. A frigid blast from the very heart of your soul did nothing to quell the beast. The more you walked the more it grew. Slowly consuming you piece by juicy piece. Stormy clouds swirled above your head, spitting out tiny bolts of chartreuse.

How dare they get into the university of their dreams!

How dare they finally buy a house!

How dare they get into a loving relationship!

They took you place on the sports team!

They were yours! They weren’t meant to be anyone else’s.

They beat you in the cross-country tryouts!

You were meant to be the best.

You were meant to…

Through the cacophony of your internal voice, an idea came upon you. Did you dare to finally feed the tiny seed?

Pulling out your phone from your pocket you thumbed a quick message to your friends. Everyone knew that your best friend didn’t particularly like you and only stayed because you made it impossible to break free. Honestly, you preferred hanging out with your group, also known as Forever D’vil.

Swinging into the gloomy alley your heavy boots chewed up the pristine blanket. Finally arriving in the uninviting graveyard, you pushed open the creaking gate. Weaving around the ever curious heads, some listing alarmingly, you made your way to the large ewe tree. Through chattering teeth you whistle out the password. Waiting patiently for the returning hum from beneath the ladened branches.

Shoving the strong arms aside, you step into the shadowy cave. Greeting the rest of Forever D’vil, with a sneer, “How are we all?” A collective rumble established that all were in agreement.

Seconds ticked. Minutes whirred. Hours dragged. Soft ballerinas fell. Conniving winds whistled. Stealthy darkness crept in. At last the meeting was dismissed. Scattering on the breeze; a deadly trap.

It felt good to finally feed the seed of the devil. Something bloomed and felt liberated, this is who you were. Returning to your best friend’s house, you raised a pale hand. Rapping sharply on the door you hear it reverberating throughout the building. Calling longingly out begging to be heard. The call was heeded.

Sleepily the protective barrier yielded, revealing a gloomy hall and a shadowy silhouette. “What are you doing here?” Pain laced in their melodious voice.

Sickly sweet you spread out your apology, “I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so jealous of your achievements. Please come take a walk, it is wonderfully magical out, so we can talk it out.”

Your sharp calculating eyes caught a slight shrug as they pull on their shoes and coat. Grabbing their keys they join you outside, gesturing for you to lead the way. Somehow you manage to keep up a positive patter as you strolled down the twinkling road. A strange orange glow held back the encroaching darkness; as droplets of water captured the light in a strange twist of power.

Just as we turned into the park a fresh sprinkling of glitter started to fall. Growing into a twisting swirl of innocent flakes. Your friend grins childishly, reaching out to caress the frozen flies. Using the cover of the growing howl of the earths breath I whistled long and low. The hunt had begun.

Three figures materialised from thin air, you dropped a few paces behind your friend. You could sense the fear rolling off their slim frame. “Life is a game and bad losers suffer,” you growled. Leaping forward as they spun around you hurled them to the floor. Raining down punches onto their face, watching as deep purple marks flourished. They tried desperately to protect themselves against the onslaught. Four against one was no match.

Switching in and out the Forever D’vil’s showered the fractured doll with all manner of abuse. Bones crunched like feet on ice. Swollen lips whimpered like wind on the wires. Until there was silence.

Disfigured. Distorted. Deceased. Crimson rivers stood boldly contrasting the pure white snow. They wrote the final lines of their story, wracked with excruciating pain. Betrayal ran deep, friendship lay intricate and superficial. A gossamer cage laced with honey, held captive a hopeful soul, finally sucking the life from their eyes.

‘Where’s that damn girl?!’ Hallow’s roars were unmistakable to the whining of a young child. Here he was, a small and puny man, with his impenetrable stare that never seemed to break, his ugly yellowed eyes that had dark moons under them from sleep deprivation, his stubby bald head, screaming once again over something that wasn’t his. ‘My lord, Hallow, would you keep — it — down!’ yelled a man from the second floor, leaning over the creaky bannister. ‘Go back to sleep, Jackson, you’re interrupting my train of thought—‘ ‘You’re interrupting my train of sleep!’ screamed Jack, who now only realised how stupid his reply sounded, and rubbed his hazelnut eyes deeply with his knuckles. ‘Whatever,’ he yawned loudly. ‘Just —‘ yaawn. ‘Be quiet, will you?’ Jack trotted back to his bedroom in his dark blue gown and there was a thud as he hit the bed with such force. ‘Stupid girl, stupid game, how dare she make a fool of me—‘ ‘Of course, I SHOULD have won— right? The game was obviously mine, but she snatched it from my grasp like a child snatching Halloween candy!’ Hallow’s complaints had gotten a lot quieter, but there was no mistake how much frustration he had in his voice. ‘How dare she, how DARE she— I won! I won! It isn’t fair!’ He flopped onto the large arm chair with a defeated sulk, slumped downwards and stretched his eyelids down so that the bloodshot whites of his eyes were visible. The chair seemed to outsize him dramatically. Hallow was not an intimidating figure. He did not sound like one. In fact, a young teenager at best could outdo his ‘roars’ of fury. There was a thud at the door. Hallow did not move for a moment, unable and unwilling to get to the door, until Jackson had screamed down the stairs again. There were furies of thudding. ‘Hallow, get the door! I’m — trying — to —sleep!’ he said through gritted teeth and stormed off back to sleep. Hallow groaned and sluggishly commanded his body to move. He creaked through the hallway to another fury of knocking. ‘All right, all right, I’m opening it—‘ There was silence for a moment. ‘YOU?’ There was a young girl at the door, slightly taller than Hallow, with suspiciously genuine light eyes. Hallow seemed to burst the moment she arrived. ‘HOW DARE — you,’ said Hallow, quieting his voice rather quickly. ‘Hello, mister Hallow!’ said the girl cheerily. ‘I am dearly sorry for being late, so late, but I was wondering if you’d like to join my sister and I tomorrow in a game of battleships. I have to tell you now otherwise people will have signed up already.’ He was stuck, bounded to the ground in rage, until he unclenched his knobbly knuckles and partially smiled. ‘All right. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’ And Hallow knew that he had his second chance at redemption, to win the game he was destined to lose.

It was one of those nights where there just wasn’t anything else to do. Larry and Balki sat at their kitchen table playing poker. Only a week before had Larry taught Balki how to play, but it was Larry who had won back Balki’s money. They played hand after hand with Larry winning every single hand.

Balki sighed. He had wanted to stop playing, but didn’t know how to tell Larry. Honestly, Balki thought it was a great confidence boost for the smaller man. The only problem being his new reactions to winning.

“Yes! YES!” Larry crowed. He raised his arms in victory. “I’m hot tonight!”

“Well, it is a little warm in here,” Balki said.

Larry just gave him a questioning look. “Oh, no, that means I’m playing great!”

Balki nodded, but said nothing.

They continued to play. As a matter of fact, they continued past midnight. By then, Larry’s eyes held a wild look… very similar to when he’d had the gambling bug in Las Vegas.

Balki finally had enough. He slapped down the cards he held and glared at Larry. “Cousin, I can no lose any more. I don’t mind jump starting your ego, but I’ve had it up to here,” he pointed at Larry’s nose, which made him go cross eyed looking at his finger, “with losing!” Balki scooped up all the cards and dumped them in the trash bucket. He then continued to his bedroom and slammed the door.

Larry was left stunned. He hadn’t realized that Balki was such a bad loser. “Well.”

-End-

(Note: I know Balki wasn’t a bad loser, but Larry thought he was.)

Krytotz looked up from his phone and narrowed his eyes at the woman before him. The room became so heavy with his magic a mortal could suffocate in it.

Meg looked up at him with an infuriating twinkle in her green eyes as a laugh escaped her lips.

“Who would have thought a thousand year old deity would be so bad at text-pool,”

Krytotz huffed an irritated sigh, “it’s because of this infernal device. It’s nothing compared to the real thing.” He turned off the device and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his seat. He could beat her in real pool given the opportunity. Not some stupid phone version of it.

Meg smiled broadly. “Sore loser, Kry?” She leaned forward and made a show of waving her hands towards her face and sniffing the air. “I can practically smell your jealousy of my text-pool skills oozing off of you.”

Krytotz’s eyes widened and he instantly drew his magic back. Meg noticed right away and raised a well-groomed brow.

“Evil woman. Let me try your hand at the real thing. Then we’ll see who’s oozing jealousy.” He grinned. She has no chance. He spent plenty enough time in solitude watching and waiting. Learned enough skills from others.

Meg stood up and put her phone in her back pocket. “It’s a date,”

Krytotz didn’t miss the way her eyes widened slightly before she steeled her features back to a small smile.

Kry narrowed his eyes as she started to bite her lip. “Date?” He stood up and took a step towards her. It was moments like these he wished he could wipe the wolf from existence. She didn’t mean to say date. He knew that. But he couldn’t help but wonder why things like that slipped out if she truly loved Maesen.

Meg’s smile dropped. “As friends Kry. Next time I can get away.” She shoved her hands into her pocket and rocked back on her heels.

Deities this sucks. Next time she can get away? He forced a sly smile on his lips and took a few more steps towards her. Close enough that he could almost feel her shallow breaths brush his face. “And why not now? A short walk to the portal room and we could be wherever you want in an instant.”

Meg scrunched her nose but didn’t move to take a step back. “You know why. It’s disrespectful.”

Krytotz leaned forward. He expected her to move back or turn away but she didn’t. This woman.

“I can’t decide what’s more disrespectful. Gong now with him knowing or going later with him not.”

He took a moment to look her up and down, trying not to linger on her assets on display. His gaze stopped on her sage green eyes. Deities help him she was beautiful. He felt the aura shift to something dark and hungry. He wasn’t quite sure which one of them caused it. He leaned down until he was a breadth of an inch from her lips.

“Or the fact that you’ve caused the room to start oozing with desire,” he played on her words from earlier, “and dare I say sex?”

Meg’s breath hitched in the slightest. Most wouldn’t have even noticed. But most weren’t like him.

“Kry,” her voice took on a low sultry tone, “the only thing I’m sensing is your massive ego.”

He shook his head. “Then why all of the secrecy? Why not invite wolfie along?”

This time Meg stepped back and furrowed her brows. “Stop trying to butt into my personal life.”

He rolled his eyes. “So it’s not a valid question? And it’s not like I haven’t been there before.”

Meg made a move to leave but with half a thought he appeared in front of her blocking the door. She sent him a look that shot daggers.

“Maesen was there for me at a time no one else was. A time that you caused actually. We share a connection—“

“—that you have with no one else, he helped put you back together, etc. etc. I was there too Meg.” He pointed at her head. “That doesn’t explain why you still feel the need to run around and hide.”

She made to move past him but he stood like a stone wall. “Get out of my way.” Like hell.

“Just answer me this.”

“What?” She spat.

“Do you love him?”

“I—“ her eyes moved to spot above his shoulder. “—yes.”

I sing the last note of song,then bow and head offstage. Everyone claps. I’m not surprised. The judges of Little Miss New York all smile. I know I’ll win. I get the gold in everything. Soccer,Art,Ballet,Gymnastics,Track,Hip Hop, Jazz,Singing, and now,pageants! I really don’t have any competition here. I mean,not to brag, but I have blonde hair,blue eyes,and fair skin. No one here has ALL of those things.

Finally, they announce the winners! “Third Place: Erica Winston” Not me,good news! “Second Place: Haley Nicoles” Oh good not-wait me?! I got silver? “First Place: Sadie Ballens!!!” “No not her! Sure she sang like an angel....But she has red hair,green eyes,and even GLASSES!” I scream and cry.

“Haley!” My mother whisper yells “This is no way for a 13 year old to act! Go up and accept your crown and sash!” I do but I sulk the whole time. This is the worst day of my life!!!

“For goodness sake, you just had all the good cards.” my father yelled, darting from the couch and shoving his cards to the table.

We had been playing our favourite card game for an hour and this was the first game I had won. We had played five.

“Well, can’t always be you, can it dad? You won four games.”

“And I deserved, I did a lot of math in my head to figure out which cards had come out and which had not.” he spat. “But you, you were just lucky.”

I giggled which I think added to his irritation. I had never seen anyone losing their temper so quickly just because of a game.

“Like the other day when we were playing soccer on your PlayStation. Your net was a wall while mine was a broken basket.” he went on.

“Sure... whenever you win you deserve it, when other people win they’re just lucky.”

“I don’t like those games where we totally depend on luck.”

“Well, it’s always a mixture of luck and skill.”

“In your case, you always have Lady Luck by your side.” he carried on, his face as red as a chilli pepper.

“Right, hey. I suppose I have no skill at all.” I said pretending to be offended. In good truth his bad temper whenever he lost amused me.

“You don’t do math in your head like I do, so you shouldn’t have won this game. It was all luck.”

I rolled my eyes and started packing the cards back to their box.

“No, no, no way. Let’s play another game. I’ll show you who’s the boss here.”

(Based on a true story as indeed my father is the biggest bad loser ever and the dialogue above was true, even though not quite like this, but that’s how I remember it.)