I pop the sugar sweet lolipop out of my mouth a lick my lips. The man in blue smiles in response. “What did you say your mom looked like again?” He asks holding my hand as we search the park. His voice is warm and sweet, it reminds me of a T-show host. “Mum has long brown hair! Oh! Oh! And she tall like realllllllllllly tall! She has a pink dress on too!” I explain skipping and squealing as a do. He laughs at me and asks another question. “And your mums name is?” “Mum.” He laughs at my simple one word answer. His big soft hand covers my head as he roughs up my golden brown locks. “Ah I should’ve guessed. Then what’s your name kiddo- and I mean full name please.” He asks through laughs. His tummy laughs with him, dancing up and down. He has soft features that remind me of my dad with baby blue eys and shaggy long blonde hair. “Rosalinda Irene Heart!” I reply loudly, holding my hands proudly. He laughs again a big hearty laugh. I pout at his non stop mocking. “Such a pretty name, here let’s get you back to the station and we’ll find your mom in a jiffy!” He says while picking me up and messing with my hair more. I can’t lie, I do miss my mother. My mum always said not to talk to strangers. It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to her. He takes a sharp turn down an ally spinning me in his arms as he does. “Hey! Isn’t the station down the street? Why are we going down an ally mister?” I whine which causes the man to smirk in response. “Oh don’t you worry! We’ll make it to the station and back to your mom. But first I wanna play a game. It’s a special game only me and you can know though~” He taunts setting me down on the concreate floor of the ally my vision starting to blur and my thoughts becoming mixed and fuzzy. He starts his stupid little game. The memory blurs and crumbles as I jolt awake from my nightmare. _God I hate that man. _Despite the night of torment being over and done with for many years at this point; he still haunts my dreams, how I dress, who I trust. Like a never ending plague cursing my every breath till I die. My mum said not to talk to strangers. I wish with all my heart I listened to her that day.

“I’ll be back.”

Sora watched as Syrah slipped through the door and disappeared into the corridor.

The singular light highlighted the emptiness of the room, now devoid of Syrah’s livelyness. The silence pounded against her ears, beckoning her towards the door.

It wasn’t that that she didn’t want to trust Syrah, but it was more like she couldn’t. They just made it impressively hard to do so. They were too witty for her to tell if they were even serious half the time.

Even Enan had taken to treading lightly, which was overly cautious, especially for him.

So Sora followed them.

She slipped into the musty hall, not bothering with the lights behind her. She went left, towards the exit. No doubt that’s where Syrah was heading.

Was it a good idea? No. Did she know better? Probably. Did she care? Sure, but not enough to supress her curiosity.

She wove her way through the halls, dim lights flickering through as she went. The ground was dry for a change, clean even. It was a stark contrast to the slums outside, with their humid air and drunkards roaming the streets.

She emerged from the building, slipping out between a couple of old boxes and dumpsters. The street the dingy, and smelled even worse. Sora could hear the faint groan of hunger from behind her. She hurried in the opposite direction.

Evidently, Sora hadn’t been far behind Syrah, as she heard their voice coming from around the corner. Crouching behind another dumpster, she crept towards their voice.

“-offering for it?” Syrahs voice came into earshot, but their voice was still low.

A man grunted. “Boy, I think you misunderstand who has the power here.”

Sora peeped around the corner. Syrah had their back to her, but they were wearing a large jacket with the hood up, concealing their face and figure. The gruff voicr belonged to a man in front of them, also in a cloak. But Sora could still see his collar, all gold trim and neat buttons.

She bit her lip. An Officer this low was bad. And Syrah was negotiating with them. The enemy. The ones who caused her — hell, all of them — so much pain.

“Sir, do you think I’ve gotten this fair by playing by your rules?” Syrah’s voice was laced with poison.

Sora could see Syrah tense. She pulled back. There was only one way this would go, knowing Syrah. And it wouldn’t be pretty.

At least she knew Syrah hated them as much as she did.

“This isn’t a request, this is a de-“

A low grown escaped the officers mouth, proceeded by a resounding thud.

Sora let her breath go. She made to stood up, but a new voice stopped her.

“Trading secrets now, are we?” Enan passed behind Sora, and stepped into the wider street.

Her thoughts froze. Her limbs wouldn’t move. She hadn’t heard Enan at all before now.

“He donated, actually,” Syrah turned to face Enan. “Didn’t think you’d hide behind a child.”

Sora whipped her head around to look at them.

“Sorry squirt.” Syrah spared her an apologetic glance.

Syrah was right. She was not cut out for this.

“You going to explain yourself?” Enan’s tone was even, but his eyes were a storm.

“A deal I made a while back.” Syrah gestured to the downed officer. “Little one-sided obviously.”

“You just make deals with strangers?” Enans brows creased into a scowl.

“Yeah, my mom told me not to talk to strangers. Good thing I didn’t listen to her.” Syrah spun a blade through their fingers. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you!”

“Answer the question, Syrah,” Sora could hear anger in Enan’s voice now. She stood up. They couldn’t fight again. Not after last time.

“Oh, I think you already know, my dear mechanic.”

Sora shot them a look

“Syrah.” Enan’s voice felt sharp against her ears.

“Aw, don’t get so worked up.” Syrah really didn’t know when to stop. “Why are you do worried? Is it about your little drug adventures?”

Sora spun to face Enan. His face was pale.

“What did you tell him,” an urgency had entered Enan’s voice.

“Nothing, nothing.” Syrah spun the knife to their other hand. “Only that I had info.”

“And do you?”

Syrah paused. “Only what it is. And that you allegedly helped create it.”

Sora couldn’t take it anymore. “Will one if you fucking explain what ‘it’ is?!?”

Enan flinched. “A magic supressent.”

“It had terrible side affects though, so it’s illegal now.” Syrah shifted their weight to the wall. “But you know drugs. And their addicts.”

Syrah looked at Enan.

“Oh, ok, we’re just making claims now?” Enan looked hysteric.

“I dunno, why don’t yo-“

A crash in a the distance cut Syrah off.

They all looked towards the noise. Machinery and drones could be heard in the distance, and Sora saw a line of troops advancing.

Syrah paled.

“You didn’t disable his tracker did you.” Enan was reaching for his gun.

“Fuck.”

“My mum always said not to talk to strangers. It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to her,” laughed the little girl. Well, Anastasia was actually 307 but she didn’t look a day over 9. We’d asked her about it before, but she liked this form. Inconspicuous.

Our friend group looks incredibly weird (and probably illegal) from the outside. There’s Anastasia, of course; then Bartholomew (but if you call him that he will set you on fire) and his husband Isaac who is our resident mindreader; Louisa the witch; and me. I can talk to animals.

I realised I was different from the rest of my third grade class when I was able to hold conversations with the pigeons outside. I was past the age of it being a game of imagination and the bullying got so bad that I effectively dropped out of school. I couldn’t let my parents know so I spent my days at the library or walking around. Thank goodness for overcrowding- I wasn’t missed.

Looking back on it, I made an almost too easy target for pedophiles and kidnappers. It’s a good thing Bart found me first. He could sense that I was different (more like an innate thing than an ability) and gave me the address of an abandoned house. That was their hideout.

I had nowhere to be, so the next day I went there. I met Anastasia on the way and she played pranks on the other pedestrians by shifting from an old man to a baby to a yeti and more. I laughed so hard that even the sewer rats told me to shut up.

When we got there, Bart was inside. He lit some candles without matches or a lighter and then stated the obvious: “Oh, yeah. I can bend fire.” Anastasia rolled her eyes and shifted back into the little girl she favoured. She spoke about how she came upon this group despite her mother’s warnings of “stranger danger”.

Bart didn’t have a similar story, since he was the founder, but we learned he was a softie with a temper and a boyfriend. Isaac arrived and promptly started answering questions that we’d only asked in our heads. He told me telepathically he could read minds and stuff. I told him I can do the same with animals. He smiled.

Louisa was the last to join. I’d been part of the group for 7 years when she arrived. She was new to town and being Italian and a witch made it difficult for her to fit in. My parents had eventually caught wind of my bunking and sent me to a new school, and that’s where I met her. We connected. She caught me talking to the snakes in the lab when she snuck in to take some plants for a potion. She came back to the hideout with me after school.

We are a family of friends. We find others like us. Are you one of them?

‘My mum always said not to talk to strangers. It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to her,” I thought to myself. I would be like her, shut-in and afraid of everything and everyone. I yearned for the open air, the road under my feet. I wrote extensively of my travels, my wandering, the people I meet. I wasn’t sure what I would do with these writings, perhaps publish, perhaps just keep to myself. I just knew I could never show them to my mum. She’d guilt me into never leaving her, and I swore I would never be like her.

I sit at the bar of a local pub, watching the footie match on TV. Arsenal was down, bummer. I sipped my ale, and wrote of my day. I had strolled down the City streets, petting random cats and just enjoying life. True, I was down on the last of my funds, but there was always someway of earning money honestly. Washing dishes, part-time at a shop. I earned my way on my own, without relying on anyone.

I checked my phone, three missed calls. She was begging for attention again, and I didn’t have the energy for it. It wasn’t even that she had some tragedy that made her stay in, she just chose it. Keep her offspring in with her, to be mini-hers. Not me. I got out.

“Bloody Arsenal,” the chap to my side commented. “They’ve been off all season, I don’t know why I bother watching anymore.”

“Footie fans love misery,” I responded. “Back in the States, my MLS team is terrible, but we still go to matches. We cheer for the underdog, even if we know there isn’t much hope.”

“Aye, that’s the truth of it. I haven’t been to a match in years, but I still come to this pub and watch when they’re on. Usually a bigger crowd shows.”

“Still early in the season,” I pointed out. “Bit of nasty weather later today, that might be keeping people in today.” Small talk. Breaking out of my shell. These tiny skills took me years to cultivate. Even know, the urge to clam up and shut down tries to rear up, but I fought those monsters. My new friend didn’t seem to notice. I was proud of myself.

We continued to chat about the differences between British and US footies (including calling it “soccer” or not.). Some good natured ribbing, but mostly great conversation. But alas, my beer was done.

“Well, it was great talking to you,” I said, grabbing my rucksack and ready to take off. Arsenal has just scored, and m buddy was enraptured with the screen, and just grunted a goodbye. Laughing to myself, I left.

The clouds did look menacing, but they were of no concern. I was free and myself. The road under my feet, book and pen in my hand. I’d get some work, and return to this pub next match.

Life was good.

As I was growing up, my mum Always said, do not talk to strangers Every day I would walk home from High school. Along the way I would Always meet all kinds of different people.

There were so many different races I felt as if I were in the twilight zone Lots of important business people I could always tell by the way They were dressed. Everyone would talk in different languages. They were always nice, Everyone would wave or say hello. I never met a stranger, I was always nice. It’s a great thing I didn’t listen to her.

Two day before school was out, as I was walking home I noticed this old couple. I had seen them several times, but this time it was different. They stopped me as I was approaching. Young lady, stop may we have a word with you,and I agreed, the couple needed help for they were getting old and they knew school was about out. They said that they had been talking and had noticed me everyday.

This offer would change my life, they offered me a nice salary monthly plus pay my way thru college, boy was I surprised. I could not refuse the offer since this job is close to home. It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to her. I probably would of never landed this job so close to home. Two days before the end of my high school year. This would be the start of my career into the Buisness world. Sometimes it pays off to always be nice with a smile or a simple hello. I’m not saying everyones out come would be as good as mine.

                                       Written By:
                                        Freddie Lopez 
                                         01-20-2020

I breathe you in so deep so that I might become you. I might reflect who you want me to be and try to morph into the thing that might catch your eye. I don’t know how to draw the line that separates your mind to mine and I might adapt to think the way you do. See the way you do and the things you want me to see. An open book for you to write in my pages the story that you want to sell. Ventriloquism because when my mouth move your words flow and I know no way to stop the show. Now I am stuck with no place to go and no way to say no. The devilish games you play left me broken and no longer the same.

My mum always said don’t talk to strangers. It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to her. Then, I wouldn’t of met my life saver. This guy helped me get back to my family. I was kidnapped at age 6 and now I’m back. Thank goodness!

A look into the line and I see inviting eyes So warm so bright so mysterious A stranger in my world, but a friend I must have I walk up and talk to you Now today we say I do We have a dog, with a beautiful coat of fur My mom always said not to talk to strangers Its a good thing I didn’t listen to her