Cassia flopped down on her bed next to her textbook and scrolls. Her tutor was making her write yet another history essay as punishment for not doing her schoolwork. She hadn't gotten much onto the page though; the topic bored her to death. She wanted to paint or draw or sculpt something, but her art supplies had been taken as another form of punishment from her parents. She had only written about a paragraph summarizing everything and knew that at this rate nothing was going to get done. Her parents would be angry, but it was rare that they weren't these days.

"Victor Caldwell was the first king of Elaris. After conquering everyone else in the Great War, he established himself as founder and king of the great country Elaris. It was small and weak in the beginning but over time was expanded and built up to be one of the strongest in the land. Now, the Caldwell's are the reigning royal family of Elaris, with King Xavier and Queen Elenor being the current rulers."

She read it over and decided to go and find her older sister, Maryn instead of working more. Maryn was her favorite sister, being the middle child she had the most freedom out of the three of them, and she was resilient and tough, someone Cassia both looked up to and resented because of those qualities. She was usually found outside, either practicing her horse riding or javelin throwing, and didn't have to wear dresses all the time like Cassia and Aurora.

Cassia quietly ran through the castle, glad that her dress wasn't made from some loud crinkly fabric. She slipped out one of the back windows on the first floor, and loved the dress even more with how effortless it made sneaking out. It was a dark green velvet, with an empire waistline and gold detailing alongside the waist and bottom, which grazed her ankles. Her hair was free and down, falling to the middle of her back in soft dark waves. Stepping outside, unaware that she was barefoot, she trekked along the path up the field to find her sister who, as she guessed, was practicing sword fighting in the small arena built just for her. Maryn was her father's favorite, her masculine interests being the closest thing he could get to having a son of his own. Her hair was braided into a tight auburn tail flying behind her as she fought one of the guards. She had a loose shirt and pants on, and a helmet covering her face. No body armor in sight, she didn't need it anymore.

"Maryn!" Her sister blocked a jab from the guard, before signaling for him to go. She pulled off her helmet and waved at Cassia. Jogging over, Cassia noticed a bit of blood trickling out of her sister's nose.
"Uh, Mare, I think your nose is bleeding." Maryn, unbothered just wiped at it and held her sleeve up to the injury. "Yeah, it is. It's probably from when my helmet knocked into my face earlier. What do you want?" "I was bored with school." "So, you decided to come and bother me?" "Uh huh. Do you mind?" "Nah, not today."

The two sat in the grass behind the castle, looking out at the mountains. So much green, Cassia thought. She wished she could explore them at some point but knew that it wasn't possible. Not for girls like her. She watched as the new guards trained, and wondered how they could have such perfect formation, she wondered if how much they trained for that a day, and she wondered how many hours they had to train to have such perfect muscles and- "Cass?" Her head snapped up. "What?" Maryn smirked, eyes flickering towards the guards. "Did Father tell you about the family supper tonight?" Cassias heart sunk. Family supper was one of her most dreaded things. It usually involved her parents reprimanding her about school or coming up with new rules and restrictions for the girls. "You know Father doesn't talk to me much." Maryn's smirk left. "Sorry. But you really didn't know? I was told this morning; they want us to all be there tonight." "Wonderful, another night of being berated by Mother and Father." "Maybe it won't be that bad this time." "Well, you wouldn't know Maryn. You're the favorite and you have it easier than me and Aurora. You never have to deal with them or anything for that matter." Maryn's eyes darkened, gaze growing heavy. "You don't know what I have to deal with, so I suggest you stop talking about it as if you do. You don't know what I've been through and what I still go through." She stood up "I'm going to go train now, and I would prefer to be alone."

Cassia sat for a moment, before getting up and going back inside. She started running back to her room, wanting to be alone before the dinner. Through the library and entrance, and up the stairs, going down the hallway the girls' bedrooms were in at a rampant speed. So rampant, that she didn't notice the guard moving to his station. BAM! "Oh, my goodness I am so sorry I shouldn't have been running I didn't see you dearest apologies I-" "I should be the one apologizing Princess, are you alright?" He was blushing, standing awkwardly looking down at her with soft blue-gray eyes. Then she noticed her hands were on his chest. Flushing red and pulling back quickly, she nodded. "Yeah, uh, I mean yes." Walking to her room she wanted to cry. The other guards stationed in the hall were chuckling and smirking, and she glared at them, remembering her title.

Cassia sat at the dinner table, the first to arrive for dinner. Typical of her family members to always be late. She had her hair put into an updo and a small gold hairpiece that matched her dress stuck into it. Her face had been made up by her maids, the makeup accentuating her big dark eyes and covering her dusting of freckles. Maryn was the second to arrive, her boys' clothes switched out for a light grey form fitting dress. Her hair was loose and flowing, with a silver headband that held some back. Maryn sat, looking straight ahead even as Cassia tried make faces, she knew could regularly get her to laugh. Her mother was next, smiling politely at her daughters as she sat. She was the blueprint for Aurora, the two could pass for sisters if it were not for her mother's graying hair and weathered skin. Next, Aurora herself entered the room, looking as stoic as ever. With her inky black hair and fair skin, her sister was beautiful. High set cheekbones set off dark eyes and she was tall and thin, the ideal look for the next queen. Yes, Aurora was the eldest daughter, meaning that she was the next ruler. Her days were spent studying and working to become the next queen, her entire life was devoted to that purpose. As she grew up, she lost all of her playfulness and sweetness, instead becoming a calculated, and frigid woman. She was only 19 yet looked 25. "Evening." Maryn and Cassia stared at their sister. "Uh, hello?" Cassia tried to crack a smile; Aurora never spoke to her. Maryn stayed silent, her eyes downcast.

The four women, three young and one old all sat silently, more strangers than family by now. Their father finally entered, a tall man with dark eyes and gray hair, looking just enough like Cassia that she could claim her features were taken from him. He smiled, the same way their mother had and took his seat. "Well, I'm sure you're all wondering why I wanted a family supper. I know we all usually eat separately but tonight I have some news. The family of Aquaria is coming to visit, I'm sure you all remember the Valentines?" Cassias jaw almost hit the floor. The Valentines were the girls only childhood friends, who they eventually stopped seeing due to my parents becoming increasingly paranoid about their safety. There were three of them as well, their oldest son Maxmillion, the middle daughter, Paris, and their youngest, Cato. Cassia sat up, "Wait really? Thats great I'm so excited!" Her family stared at her quietly as she leaned back again. Her Father cleared his throat. "Well, they aren't coming for fun, it will be a commerce discussion for the parents, and an academic discussion for you children. That means you will all have to step up your studies." Cassia's expression must have fallen, because her father eyed before saying, "And Cassia, I expect to hear better reports from your tutor. Maybe I should read your next essay on our family's history." She wanted to cry.

The next week flew by, as her excitement for the Valentines arrival grew by the day. Even though it was supposed to be for school, she was still happy to see people her own age. Only one notable thing happened, while she was walking down her bedroom hall attempting to sneak back in the castle late one night. She had been stargazing on the field near Maryn's arena, and lost track of the time. Creeping through the creaky hallway, she stumbled and almost tripped in front of the guard she had bumped into earlier that week. His eyes were soft as he watched her, whispering a little, "Be careful". Guards were not supposed to speak to the royals if it wasn't an emergency, but she wished they would talk to her more. It was lonely in the castle. She smiled at him, and when he smiled back, she just about melted. Something about him intrigued her, but she shoved the thought down. Princesses were only ever allowed to be with other royals.

When the Valentines arrived, Cassia ran out to greet them, not caring about what her family would think. She caught Paris in a tight hug, the two girls immediately complimenting each other's dresses. Cassia was wearing a long deep blue gown, tiny flowers dotting it, with a matching corset painted in florals. Her hair was down, with two small braids meeting in the back of her head, a large rose covering where the braids were tied. Paris was wearing a soft pink dress, all tulle and pastels. Her blonde hair was put up, and she looked effortlessly regal. Cassia hugged the boys, marveling silently at much taller they were now, all of the girls, with the exception of Aurora, were much smaller in comparison. Cato hugged her a moment longer than what she was used to, his arms gripping her waist, but she brushed it off. Her friends were finally here!

The day went quickly, even though they were focusing on school, the kids all found time to laugh and get off track, even Maxmillion and Aurora, who were the most serious. Cato always looked Cassia in the eye when she spoke and complimented her dress multiple times. It seemed to her like he had feelings for her, but she didn't reciprocate them. He was too much like family to her to be a potential lover. Once, his hand slipped onto her waist, and while moved away, she could tell how he viewed her from then on. Nothing came of it though, until the third night they were visiting.

Cato and Cassia were in her fathers office, laughing at old photos of all of the royals as children. They had some mead, and while she didn't enjoy it and stopped at half a glass, he kept drinking, even taking the bottle into the library with them. He leaned in, while she giggled at one of him with chocolate all over her face. "You look so different." Cassia looked at him then. "What do you mean?" He sat up straight. "You're just so beautiful now." "Well, thank you." She smiled; a bit uncomfortable. Then, he got closer. "I think I'm in love with you. Your looks are so incredible I just want to-" And before she could process what he had just said, he grabbed her and tried to kiss her. "EW WHAT GET OFF ME!!!!" She tried to push him away, but he was insistent. Kissing her face and jawline and pulling her closer he whispered, "You've been flirting with me all this time, I know you want me." "No, I do not you're like a brother just GET OFF ME!!." He was then trying to unlace her corset as she kicked and screamed, suddenly more scared than she'd ever been. She realized, as she cried that no one could hear her. The families had gone outside for dessert and there were no guards in her fathers office when it was unoccupied. "Let go of her." A swift kick to Cato's back and he fell, cursing. Strong arms lifted her up as she sobbed, carrying her like she weighed nothing in his arms. The guard carried her up the stairs and into her quarters, setting her on her plush chair she regularly took her meals on. "Did he...?" She looked up through teary eyes. "No. He would have though, if you weren't there." "You're safe now." She looked at him then, realizing that it was the guard from before. The one with the pretty eyes and honey colored hair. "Thank you." He looked a little embarrassed. "It's my job Princess. I should probably go now; I could lose my job if I'm caught in here." "I understand. But one question." She smiled up at him. He was taken aback. "Yes?" "What's your name?" "My name?" "You do have a name, right?" She was calmer already just talking to him. Something about his presence was warm and gentle, she felt safe with him. He laughed then, and all she could about was how pretty his smile was. "I do have a name. Damian. Damian Sinclair." "Well, hello there Damian, I'm Cassia. Cassia Caldwell. But I'm sure you knew that." "I did know that."

He left, smiling that beautiful smile at her once again, and she felt warm and fuzzy despite the horrors that had occurred earlier. Although he was just a guard and her a princess, she thought maybe she was in love.

AHHH THIS WAS SO FUNNN i want to continue with this story so bad ive been cooking it up for like a year now

“Ow!” I wince at the fangs sinking into my skin. I hear my boyfriend mutter a _sorry _through his clamped down mouth. A small gasp bursts through my lips as the blood drains from my neck. He rolls his eyes and digs his sharp fangs deeper into the soft side of my neck. The wound from last time he needed a feast is scabbed and apple red. After his last slurp of thick blood he retracts his fangs and licks the mark left behind clean. I shudder at the feeling of his tongue on my neck and he rolls his eyes yet again. “Come on you know I need to eat. You don’t want me to starve, right?” His gruff voice attacks my ears sending shivers down my spine. “N-no, I don’t want you to starve.” I meekly reply. “And you love me, right?” He asks as his grip begins tightening on my hips. “Yes, of course I love you.” I answer as if my life is on the line. “Yet you can’t do this one thing for me? This one little thing, you can’t do it?” He interrogates now bruising my hips. “No I- yes yes I can! I-I promise I can.” I trip over my tongue unable to capture my shakiness from entering my speech. He smirks then speaks in a low whisper. “So you don’t mind if I drink a little more right? I did a lot today and I’m just _so _hungry.” He grabs my chin tilting it to the side to expose my neck. I’m already lightheaded and dizzy, but he needs this to survive. Right? I can spare a little more, just a little more for him. As he sneaks his teeth I let out a small whimper. He sucks and sucks for what seems like hours as I slowly lose consciousness. My limbs fight to stay strong as they become to cumbersome to lift up on my own. My eyelids droop ready to give in and sleep. Despite it all he keeps drinking. One final shaky exhale escapes my lips as I fade away from reality into an eternity of slumber.

I’m in love with a killer. _My _killer. Well, technically he hasn’t killed me yet, but he’s going to. Kevin Rogers was contracted to kill me approximately two days, four hours, and fifty six minutes ago. I won’t tell you how I know this, because you shouldn’t be worrying about that. Though, you should be worrying about my love interests. I always fall for the bad guys. A killer has been assigned to me because of a little crime I didn’t commit. I have been accused of murdering my ex-boyfriend. Obviously, I didn’t, and I actually have no idea who did. They were really smart though. They framed it to where every little detail points back to me. I first met Kevin four years ago before he ever got into the assassin industry. He was my first love. We dated for over two years, until he decided to leave me heartbroken. It was out of no where. He just told me it was over and left. He ruined my life, but I never stopped loving him. I mean how could I. You never forget your first love. Unfortunately, the man I’ve been trying to rid myself of for the past two years is officially back in my life. They told him he had a week to finish the job. I don’t think he’ll commit. After all, he’s never been good at it.

I’ve had dreams involving you. Some sweet, some anxious. At night I catch myself talking to myself like you’re sitting right beside me. When reality hits, it hurts worse than yours

You were my best friend. I loved you, and I loved us. How did we get to where we are now? Did you always hate me? Did you think I was pathetic? Did I deserve all I was put through? Was it funny twisting me backwards until I couldn’t breathe any longer? Or did the joke wear out when you saw the light leaving my eyes and the fire leave my soul?

I fought so hard to not become my mother. To be someone who would stand strong and would know better than to be used and abused in the same way. And when I became a mother, I promised I would never put my children through the things I had been through. But every lie you told was too beautiful, because the love I had for you set my soul on fire. However, you forgot to nurture the kindling, and were caught tending to other fires instead. In the end, I now cry for the things my children have witnessed the same way my mother did. I stand in the ashes of what once was home to me.

My emotions get the better of me, and there was a time and place where I would have died had you asked me to do so for you. I was there every late night call for that designated driver. Holding you in the middle of the night when your head, heart, and even hands were too heavy. Maybe the blood on my hands helped wear down your stone heart as I beat them bloody to get through to you. But my hands are gone now, stumps left numb where I sacrificed myself for you. I’ve handicapped myself trying to love you.

I wake up and reach across the bed for you. It takes me a minute to recalibrate and realize that you’re not there. You’ll never be there again. And I can never go back. Going back would be like putting your loaded gun to my temple and closing my eyes. I wish you had loved me, and not thought of me as a joke. I believed for a short while in heaven. But I’m not religious. And like our love, heaven is fake

I thought you were my best friend and lover. How could you bear secretly being my biggest bully? How could you bear holding me in your arms as I cried while laughing at me behind my back? How could you tell me those loving words while mocking me to your friends? Was I not pretty or smart enough? Or was I just not the close enough amalgamation of “her” to be accepted by you socially? I was never what you wanted. I was wanted enough for you to try to pin me down when I would try to run from you, but not enough to respect and love me. I’m sorry, you won’t find me at the end of that bottle to soothe your heavy handed mind any longer.

You always confused and hurt me, complexities that I just couldn’t understand at the time lied within you. Drunkenly screaming for me to get out of your house in the middle of the night, but also holding me so tightly like your arms were a cage. Like it you let me go even for a second, I would vanish. And no matter how I tried to stay away, my love for our kin and your soul kept pulling me back to you. I wonder if you had fun pulling at the chains around my heart and I begged and pleaded to be just loved by you. Your love was never based on being in love with me, it was based in possessing me.

You live within my walls, my bed frame, my very DNA. I’m haunted by your touch, the damage done to me and the pleasure also brought upon from it. My brain has become foggy since becoming possessed with the thought of you. You reached into me, pressing and pulling my strings to see how to make me react, how to break me down. When I’m with you, I can only remember all of the damage caused by you. When I’m cleansed of you, you always find a way to haunt me harder than before. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be free of you. And the more bourbon you drank, the more my blood poured from your hands

It never truly felt like you respected my efforts and love that I had to offer you. Like me even attempting to love you was laughable in your eyes. You were stabbing me in the back, and instead of turning around to look you in the eyes, I covered my eyes and denied that you were ever capable of being so cruel. Treating me as though I’m some tool to appease enough so that you may use me to lift yourself up further. I was building myself to be a rare porcelain vase, and you used me to wipe your feet on and reach towards other pretty things. It hurts knowing I was enough to use and abuse, but never enough for you to love me, respect me as a person, and truly acknowledge and appreciate my efforts. I never doubted your work. But to you, I just sat inside on a computer all day. You never had any appreciation for my efforts and me putting forward what I had to try to save us. I think you were pulling us both under the water the entire time.

Remembering when I was so hopeful about us, all the times we had argued, worked so hard to keep things together, the beautiful, the chaotic., all that was once us and how much I bent myself backwards to make you happy. It burns holes into my soul like I’m burning through each photo of us wondering if you hated me from the very beginning or if you were making fun of me during them. Missing when I had such a deep love for you that was endless, innocent to where I never thought you would never do the things you did to me that you did. But it’s too late, and I loved you until I was running on fumes. You never would fill up the tank, you’d only put just enough in there. You could never be bothered to really go out of your way otherwise. But constantly running on fumes takes its toll. I miss you. I remember the impact on my cheekbone and the way it rattled my head and my brain. I remember the pain in my head for days. I remember the way you pinned me down and shoved me around. I remember the fear, the anger, the sadness. I miss you. I miss the lighthearted moments when things seemed brighter and better in life. When there wasn’t so much darkness between us. But nothing can undo what’s been done. The words that have left our mouths cannot be unsaid, your violence cannot be undone, and my anger and pain will not fade for as long as you would continue to cheat, lie, manipulate, and drag me down. And you were never going to stop for me. I wish you loved me as much as you loved the attention you received from everyone else. I wish you loved me as much as you loved the alcohol. I wish you loved me as much as you loved the parties and bars. And I wish you had seen that I was trying to help you before you had done all of the damage that you did to us. But you didn’t, and my hand was forced. I’ll be strong for my children, but I’ve never felt so broken alone in my life. I still cry at night. I still find myself pretending to talk to a friend to try to figure out where it all went wrong. I still wake up expecting you to be there. I still find myself talking to you.

My puppeteer birthed me and Pulls my strings because she loves me.

I’m her life I’m her passion I’m her purpose don’t you see? So it’s only out of the deepest love that she has these plans for me.

When my puppeteer got pregnant at last she didn’t feel alone. I’d be her mini-me to lean on. At last a person she could own.

So she pulls my tired strings. I try to keep her calm and proud.

But now my pointy sides are squished

Spreading my broken wings is not allowed.

But I love her and I need her She’s done everything for me. There’s comfort in control so Who needs autonomy?

I’m a person too But I’m exhausted.

And I’m infected by her fear.

I’ll never, ever leave her My darling puppeteer.

“You killed him,” Seira said weakly, feeling as if she might vomit again. “I did what I had to do,” Ten said harshly. She pulled Seira after her. “Come on. Are you going to throw up?” “I—” “Don’t do it off the roof. You never know who it’ll land on.” Seira swallowed. “I’m fine.” “Good.” Ten glanced back, and something in Seira’s face must have convinced her of the lie. She sighed. “We can stop up here.” She hopped nimbly up to a higher roof. When Seira didn’t follow, she reached down and offered her hand. Seira took it.  She stood on the roof, taking several shuddering breaths. “You killed him,” she repeated. “It had to happen.” Ten met her eyes and sighed. “You don’t get it. Your corner of the world is too pretty for you to get it.” Seira shuddered. “You’re a murderer.” “Yeah. Well.” Ten was avoiding her gaze. “Sometimes that’s what we have to be.” Seira shook her head, looking at her sister with a new understanding. “No,” she said, nearly a shriek. “No, we don’t!” “Listen,” Ten snarled. “You got to choose. I didn’t. So you can stop whining—” “It isn’t whining! He was a _person, _and you killed him, and who knows how many others!” “I never had a choice—“ “And I never wanted one!” Seira glared at the other girl, eyes glittering with tears. “Right,” Ten said, laughing darkly. “Right, you’d give up your palaces and your schools and your _family _for _my _life.” “I would!” Seira gritted her teeth, hating the voice in the back of her mind that whispered her mother’s words to her. _Speak logically. Come back when you aren’t angry. __Shut up! _“I would give it all, Ten, because look what it made you!” “I never wanted this!” Ten gestured at her raggedy clothes, the scar curled from her ear down to her collarbone, the purple hair that had never been forced into a bun. “I never wanted to become this.” “But you did.” Seira looked away from her, down to the dark streets below. “You’re more than I will ever be, and you never even had to want it.” “You don’t know anything about what I want,” Ten started, but Seira cut her off with a high, wild laugh. “And you don’t know anything about want!” Abruptly, Seira swung at her, and Ten caught her hand. Seira aimed her elbow towards Ten’s stomach, but her sister shoved her back easily. “What are you doing?” Seira didn’t answer. She panted for breath, kicking low at Ten’s knee. Ten danced back, eying her warily. Each of her movements was lithe and precise. “Do you see it?” Seira seethed. “Do you see it now?” “See what? You’re making no sense, Sei.” “You’re broken,” Seira spat. “But look what you’re worth.” Ten blinked, shaking her head in incredulity. “_That’s _what this is about? Please. You don’t even know what it means to be broken.” “Of course I—” “No.” Ten’s tone darkened, twisted into something frightening. Something that would not conceive the idea of being controlled. “No, you don’t. You haven’t been there. While you were trying on dresses, I was stealing food to survive. Not to be comfortable. To _survive. _I looked death in the face every day, and I had to choose _every day _to keep living.” Ten shook her head.  “You can’t ever understand. You can’t know what it is to watch everyone you’ve loved die and be told it’s your fault. You’ve never sat in a cell and watched your world crumble while you could do _nothing _to stop it. You’ve never torn at your hair or punched a wall until your fists bled.” Ten stopped, chest heaving. Seira’s face displayed something between triumph and horror. She could feel her heart pounding, could feel bile rising in her throat.  She forced it down. “You do see, then.”  “Just say what you mean,” Ten snapped tiredly.  “You know those things. You _understand _them. You can fight. You can survive. You have a power I never will because you never had to choose!” The tears wanted to fall. Seira refused to let them.  “Me?” Ten scoffed, a piece of loose hair so dark a purple it was nearly black falling over her eye. “Please. People like me can’t change anything. We just have to wait for people like _you _to clean up the mess that we are. You’re everything I could’ve been if I didn’t get stuck in this dump.” “You aren’t listening,” Seira said. The fight had drained out of her. “I can’t _do _anything. I had too many options. I had everything. So I’ve become nothing. _You’re _everything _I _could’ve been if-if I were here.” Ten sat down next to her. “You think you’re redundant.” Seira shrugged. “The world doesn’t need another person like me. It could stand to have a few more like you.” Ten was quiet for a long moment. “There’s a lot you don’t see, you know. About what’s inside. I’d give anything to be as-as carefree as you.” “Carefree?” Seira laughed. But when she looked over at Ten, her sister was frowning.  “Have you ever taken a life, Seira?” Seira stiffened. “What you did today…” “Have you ever taken a life, Seira?” “No,” Seira whispered, suddenly feeling very small. “It changes you,” Ten said. “Everyone says that, but you don’t realize it until you’ve actually done it. And then you do it again, and again, and again.” She met Seira’s eyes, her own dark and haunted. “You know it’s bad once you stop counting.” Ten laughed. “Maybe the way rich people break is different. Maybe you turn into heroes. Maybe, in your world, it’s beautiful. “But somehow, I don’t think it is. It’s an ugly thing, Sei. Hearts don’t crack and heal nice and easy like bones. They splinter. They shatter. They get infected. And maybe you can fix it, but it’s never going back to how it was. Pieces get lost, and what’s left is a mess, held together by glue and string and sheet will. It never stops hurting, not really.” Ten wasn’t looking at Seira anymore but out into the darkness. In the city proper, it would be filled with light. Here, there were only scattered fires, not quite enough to chase off the chill. “It’s the things you don’t see that really get you. The things they won’t tell you in any of their fairytales. It’s the days and nights and days and nights that pass in a blur as you try to remember how to move on. It’s the friends you didn’t realize you needed until they’re dead. It’s know that you are, and always will be, broken beyond repair.” “I…” Seira’s throat stuck. She cleared it, trying again. “I’m sorry.” Ten snorted, her mouth curving into a wry grin. “Sorry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how many years of my life are gone, and it doesn’t change what you did.” “I know,” Seira murmured miserably. “I didn’t—I didn’t know it was you.” Ten shrugged. “You were doing your job.” “And it ruined your life!” “Can’t ruin what’s worth nothing.” Seira winced, and Ten set a hand on her knee. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. That won’t help anyone. I got out, didn’t I?” Again, her mouth twisted into that same gentle smirk. “I take care of myself.” Seira nodded. She watched the city for a long, long moment. From above, it looked like everything she’d imagined. But she’d walked those streets, now. She’d heard the screams and seen the bloodstains. Ten was right. This place was as ugly as a shattered heart.  One of the fires flared up, and Seira shivered. “Do you have the nightmares?” She asked quietly. Ten stirred. “I—used to.” “I still have them,” Seira said. _You don’t have to be the strongest, _her mother’s voice chided. _You’re exactly what you need to be, right where you’re at. __You aren’t helping. _“They’re not as bad anymore. I used to wake up screaming.” “Me too,” Ten said. To Seira, it looked as if she were leaving out a part of the story. A part of it that would remind Seira just how much less she was than the sister who’d once been a perfect mirror of herself. She ignored the thought. “I thought I could feel my skin blistering. I heard them screaming. Our—our parents. They were dying. They begged me to save them, but I was being pulled out, and I couldn’t bring myself to go back in. They were still inside. You were too. I thought you were dead. For all those years.” Ten met her eyes. “I saw them take you. I was so glad you’d survived. That helped, on the worst days. To know that you were out there, living the life I never could.” Seira let out a long, quiet sigh. “What do I do now, Ten?” “I suppose,” Ten said quietly, “that you have a choice to make.” Every muscle in Seira’s body seemed to tense at once. “I don’t want—” “I know! I know. But there’s always a choice, whether you like it or not.” She smiled sadly. “You talk about my path as if it’s been straight and easy to follow. I still make choices, sister, just different ones. I choose to be alive. I choose not to listen to the laughter in my head. Even in prison, even when they try to take away every option you have. I always have a choice, Seira, and so I will _never _be powerless again. Choice is power, not punishment.” She paused. Cocked her head. Brushed away loose strands of hair. “So I guess it’s up to you. What do you want?” Seira shook her head in awe. “How did you get to be so wise?” _Why not me? Why am I always behind everyone, even my own twin sister? _Learn from everyone you can, dar—_shut up shut up shut up! _Ten raised an eyebrow, and Seira pursed her lips. “I want to be skilled. To be worth something.” You don’t need talent to matter. I’ll love you no matter what. “That’s a start,” Ten said. “Use that. Build it into a fire and burn.” Seira nodded, but suddenly Ten wasn’t looking at her anymore. She was glancing behind them, towards the city proper. Before Seira even realized she’d moved, the scarred girl was on her feet. “We have to get you back. Now.” “Why?” Seira stood up, eyes wide and alert. “What’s happening?” “Shields,” Ten replied. “A lot of them. And they still think I, ah, kidnapped you.” “What?” “It’s a long story. Come on.” Ten leaned back, falling into the air over the side of the building. Seira’s breath caught in her throat. Then Ten’s head popped back up. “Right,” she said. “There’s, um, a ladder on the other side, if you want it.” Flushing, Seira crossed the building and began climbing down onto a lower roof. By the time she was down, Ten was already there. They crossed carefully. More than once, Ten pointed to the street below, where Seira could hear Shields marching. The return was quicker than Seira expected; before she knew it, they were in the foliage of a tree just outside her family’s estate.  Ten grabbed her arm. “Hey,” she said. “Live for me, okay? Fall in love. Have a family. Relish each moment.” Seira snorted. “While you’re out there fighting? Please.” She felt a warm smirk fall into place. A mirror of Ten’s, only one without scars running through it like cracks in once perfect glass. “I think it’s about time someone cleaned up your messes.” Ten laughed. “I’ll be waiting. Be safe.” Before Seira had a chance to answer, Ten was gone. Disappeared into the night. Seira shrugged and made her way awkwardly down the tree. Choice was power, she reminded herself. Choice was power.

Chapter 5

Ballari woke up in her bedroom with a clouded head that morning. It felt like the beginning of a headache.

But Ballari pushed that aside and looked around to see MISS looking at her with a distressed look on her face and the local town doctor, Dr. Habean, feeling the girl’s head with a cold hand.

When MISS saw that Ballari had awoken, she gasped. Ballari noticed that her eyes were red and raw and that her face was chalky from dried tears.

“Oh, Ballari!” The woman pushed the doctor away as she cupped the girl's face in her hands. “I was already worried about how late you stayed out, so when I found you sprawled out on the ground out in the meadow, I almost fainted. I called Dr. Habean right away and we both carried you back here.” MISS pressed her forehead against Ballari’s and rubbed her cheeks with her thumbs. “I was so, so, afraid.”

Ballari was confused. She thought that Alistarie had been with her when she fell asleep, did he just leave her there? Ballari thought a bit more and realized that if MISS came to the meadow, Alistarie would have run away. It seemed reasonable enough.

With that new conclusion in her mind she relaxed and let MISS weep over her and Dr. Habean did what he did best, and soon she fell back asleep.

❥  ❥  ❥

Ballari soon woke up again, but this time it wasn’t MISS or Dr. Habean sitting next to her. It was Alistarie.

How did he get into the cottage?

“Have you made up your mind, Ballari?” He asked.

Ballari, driven by the curious effect of sleep, shrugged.

Alistarie’s eyes then turned a dangerous shade of green and with clenched fists he said looking out toward the open bedroom door.

 “I have been patient, and nice, and even gentle, sometimes. _Now, _can we do things _my _way?” At that moment it looked as if he wanted to hurl something out of a window.

Without thinking, Ballari found a glass of water MISS had left for her and gave it to Alistarie, saying, “Here, throw this if you want to.” Then she fell back on the bed and went back to sleep.

❥     ❥     ❥

Ballari woke up again annoyed. Why couldn’t she just stay asleep.

The pine smell from the previous night was all around her, blurring her vision quite magnificently.

But she could tell two things: 1. It was night, and 2. She was on someone’s back. She supposed that it was Alistarie, as he was the last person she had seen, but as she moved further into reality, she realized that the hands that were holding her up were somewhat…feminine.

Ballari snapped back to reality and remembered what Alistarie had said in the meadow. ‘Ballari, I need you to come with me.’ Her answer was brief and then she went to sleep. She remembered what she had done in the early morning to his question and regretted it completely. She hadn’t given him an answer. Thus to why they were kidnapping her now.

Ballari felt her heart race and her head soar. She was being kidnapped. Alistarie never wanted to be her friend whatsoever, he just wanted her to come with him, that was all. And since she didn’t want to come he was kidnapping her.

Betrayal, depression and loneliness swept all through her. All she wanted was to curl up in a hole and die. She should have listened to MISS, for the first time in her life the old lady was right.

Suddenly, her captor stopped walking and brought her off of their back carefully, though their grip was keeping her from escaping.

“Ali, she’s awake, and quite scared. Though I wouldn’ blame her.” The person whispered, a very northern accent twisted in her words as she spoke.

As their face came better into vision, Ballari found that she had been right, it was a female. Her eyes were a soft brown and her hair was a dark orange; her skin was a light brown, like the inside of the peeling of bark. She was looking into Ballari’s eyes with such an intensity that it made her even more scared, nerves telling her heart to beat faster.

“Ali, she ain’t calming down!” whispered the girl. Then she looked back at Ballari and, her hands still holding her in place, stared again, harder this time. Ballari’s heart panicked even more.

Soon Alistarie came striding into view. He looked quite relaxed in this situation, unlike the lady friend of his. Sighing quietly, he said in a bored voice, “Did you try using Lull?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Of course I did, but, as ya’ can _clearly _see, it’s not working!”

“Are you sure, Tyra? Or are you just bad at your job?”

Tyra glared at him and shoved Ballari into his arms. “Here, if I’m so bad at my job why don’ _you _take care of her, but ya better do it fast Ali, boy…” Tyra looked directly at Ballari, straight into her soul. “Before the Angest come.” Then, satisfied with what she had done, she strolled forward, deeper into the forest.

Alistarie turned Ballari to face him, gripping her shoulders tightly.

“What is an Angest?”

“Nothing Ballari, it’s all right now, calm down.”

“Where are you taking me? Let me go! Please!”

Alistarie sighed again, his grip never faltering as Ballari tried to flee. “Calm down, Ballari.”

But she couldn’t calm down, it was too much fear and troubling for her poor little heart; it beat hard, trying to gasp and contain her fear. She gasped for breath as she crumbled into Alistarie’s arms. He held her tightly as she shook and shook and shook. She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, as she felt her heart burn with fire hotter than any furnace. Ballari bit her tongue as the excruciating fire spread from her heart to—

Then it all stopped.

Ballari opened her eyes to see Alistarie before her, one arm around her waist, the other on the back of her head, pushing one side of her face against his solid chest. He was rocking her gently back and forth, and she began to smell the scent of pine once more. It filled her lungs with fresh air, gave life to her weak limbs, it stopped her terrible shaking as well. Ballari sighed heavily as she felt the fire in her body extinguished, replaced with a feeling of soft snow.

Alistarie let go of her waist and head to cup her cheeks in his warm hands. His eyes were a soft green this time, not the hard green they were in the morning, which calmed her even further. “It seems like I’ll have to be soft with you, which honestly makes things harder than they already are. Now hurry.”

Alistarie squeezed her dark brown cheeks until her lips were puckered up like a fish. He grinned mischievously at that before he let her go. Then he went towards the woods that Tyra had entered into and disappeared.

Ballari could have gone back. She could have escaped. But wasn’t there one night where she said that she wanted to leave? That she wanted to find the place where she belonged? Wherever Alistarie and Tyra were taking her, it could be the place, it could be her home.

Her mom.

That is what gave Ballari the iron strength to walk after them.

Chapter 6

A girl was in a_ library. A tall, wide library. It stretched on and on _ _and on _ _and on _ _and on _ _and on _ _and on _ _and on _ **_and on and on and on and on and on and on. ****

(I like this chapter more than the other ones, but there is one chapter that is my FAVORITE! It introduces my favorite character more formally.**_

_**Anyways, thanks for reading and have a great day!) ****

_**

Honey, Nearly all of the hate in my heart is reserved for you. I didn’t know I was capable of so much, But love can be abused in an instant. I was always capable of love.

And maybe, There is less room for love in my heart now. But it’s better off this way. Keeping things close, Tight, With people that I trust. My trust gets lost anyways.

All of the hate in my heart is for you. Before you, There was never much hate there to begin with. Now I have so much that I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to go breaking things, Or punching walls, But I’ve said this all too many times. I should just shut up.

I thought that middle school would be the worst.

That’s what everyone said, that everyone grows up and matures by the time ninth grade starts.

And they did. Most of them.

But the ones who didn’t prowl the halls, looking for their next victim.

Preying on the innocent.

And it’s not just middle school stuff, the occasional middle finger, or shove into a locker. It’s the stuff that you can’t see hurts.

The things that leave invisible bruises all over your body, that keeps you up at night wondering, “What did I do wrong?”

Answer me, I’m begging you, what did I do wrong? __

In my dream last night, You received punishment. I looked you in the eyes and told you “you deserve it”.

Then I saw you this morning, Walking with some new girl. I’d seen you with her once before. She must be your new victim. What, Losing your grip on your old one?

But I promised myself, That I wouldn’t give you the time of day. You are beneath me. If I don’t crush you, Eventually, You’ll just get crushed anyways.