To address poverty.

The eagle stands tall The parrrot dances They all have one thing in common They all have wings. To lift them up and carry them away swiftly across the wind Each year migrating to new land To new hopes of surviving the snowstorm Called life. But have you ever heard of the lost tale Of the bird with no wings? Nothing to carry them up Yet nothing to hold them down The fish may not be a bird The fish may not be able to fly There fins pushing them as fast as they can across the dark salty ocean depths The fish wants to be a bird. As the birds fly across the clouds The fish swims as fast as it can To catch up Jumping out of the water into air before coming back down into the sea And stopping when it sees land They will not migrate They will swim in the same circle For years to come Avoiding the coral and plastic in the water. However, you don’t need to be born with wings To fly. The fish can swim upwards And jump into the surface.

No one but them knew she had only a day left to live. She had dirty blond hair, matted and coarse yet still somehow remaining glossy and silky. Green eyes that had long since lost their sparkle locks on my face, sorrow and emptiness and a hint of another unnamed emotion coating the dark irises.

“This is our last time talking to each other, huh?” She says with a faraway look in her eyes.

I swallow hard and try to get all the words I wanted to say out of my mouth but couldn’t, couldn’t because they wouldn’t come, no matter how much they burned my tongue like hot coal.

Why didn’t you tell me sooner?

Do you trust me?

I love you.

“You must hate me.” She says suddenly. I stop struggling and widen my eyes in surprise.

Then, she starts laughing loudly. Doubling over in hysterics, she throws her head back and bangs it against the hospital bed’s headboard. I stare at her with shocked eyes.

“Isn’t it ironic that the day you proposed to me is the day I told you I’d be dead?” She says after she’s done. I don’t respond. What could I say?

“You’re a wonderful man.” She says with a hint of sadness.

“You’re a wonderful woman.” I say in response. I don’t say it just to be polite. She was more perfect than anything I could’ve asked for in a lover.

Was.

We sit in a peaceful silence for the next couple of minutes. The horizon changes from a baby blue to light orange, and the edges of her mouth turn upwards slightly and her stress lines on her forehead lessen. For a moment, I’m struck by how young and beautiful she looks. Though we’re both barely 25 years old, time had aged us. Deciding that hopelessly struggling for days in pain would not cure cancer, she decided to let go of the thin, trembling hold she had on the world. It shocked and hurt me l past any physical injury I’ve ever had before. The woman I loved, dead in a day. It was as if this was a tragic love story.

“Esme.” I say, using her first name.

“Yes.” She says calmly, not as a question, but as a remark.

“We still have a day left.” I say, and she turns towards me.

Staring unblinkingly at my face, she realizes what I mean, and her eyes slowly brighten. Dark green turns to a verdant shade, and she truly starts to smile.

“This could be our last chance to be together, why don’t we take it?” I say, and she nods.

Reaching a hand out, I wait for her to take it. Slender fingers touch calloused ones, and I pull her up slowly, making sure not to cause her any pain.

Suddenly, she pulls me towards the door. My eyes widen but I follow along. She turns around hesitantly when her hand graps the knob, a question in her eyes.

Yes?

Yes.

And with that, we walk out towards the future.

“This could be our last chance. Why don’t we just take it?” Asked john’s brother in haste. John stood tall in the train station scanning the mystical train. It was purple and red and had vines surrounding the walls and roof. There were random eyes and claws attached to the walls as well as weird drawings of creatures.

The brothers stood in front of the train while people surrounded them walking in different directions to their designated trains or exits. To the people, the train was a wall, and they just saw the brothers staring at it.

“Fine,” they quickly entered the train and sat down in chairs. John looked to his brother, James and hoped he had been right about the train.

John looked to the table and suddenly a brochure appeared. John picked it up; ‘Welcome To The Mythical Vine Train’ it read. He continued to open it and read what was on the inside.

When he was done, he looked up to his brother with wide eyes. James looked at him and became curious and concerned.

“What?”

“You were wrong. We are not going to Heiromaland (hi-roe-may-land)!”

“WHAT!!”

“SHHHHH!” Hushed John, excusing themselves to others.

“What?!” Asked James, now whispering.

“We are going to Dragatain!” Cheered John.

“What?!! Yesss!! Even better than I thought! We will have so many opportunities to start our shop!” Exclaimed his brother.

“This is great for us! We will finally make a life of our own. Good job brother. Good job.”

“This could be your last chance. You should take it,” Mara said, throwing back her second shot of the night. She’d demanded an immediate girl’s night out and since I hadn’t left my apartment other than to go to work for weeks, I figured a change of scenery wouldn’t hurt. Plus I knew she was prone to cabin fever if she didn’t get to catch up.

I stared down at my drink – still untouched – shrugging my shoulders. “I really don’t think it matters anymore.” Luckily for me, O’Hara Lara bar is always bustling on Friday nights, and cheers coming from the tables in the back corner help to mask the lack of enthusiasm in my tone.

Normally, I appreciate Mara’s optimism and confidence. She raced over when she saw my post-breakup haircut after I’d broken up with Lucas weeks earlier. She hadn’t berated me when she saw the lopsided cut – my half drunken attempt at an asymmetrical bob – but simply helped to even out the sides. Or when I’d tried to book myself a flight to somewhere warm and tropical to mend yet another broken heart. Instead, I’d ended up stranded at the airport in the middle of winter, forcing her to come get me in the middle of a snowstorm. That was our dynamic – me, always making bad choices and messes, and her, always cleaning them up for me.

I so desperately wanted normal. I wanted a relationship that wasn’t going to crash and burn, leaving yet another scorched heart in my path of past loves. Mara knew that too, which was why she was so desperately trying to convince me to take this chance.

She motioned to the bartender for a refill, while reaching for the bowl of pretzels. “You and Tyler have never been on the same page – mostly because you were too busy in the arms of your next…conquest.” I give her a look and she shrugs.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

I can’t. Because she’s right.

The ice in my drink is starting to melt, the rim making a puddle on the bar’s wooden top. Running my finger through the water, my mind wanders back to the last text Tyler and I exchanged. He’d moved halfway across the country after determining that traveling was the cure to his restlessness. Our last messages had been months ago, with awkward small talk filling in the gaps of words we couldn’t say.

Meanwhile, Mara was apparently in the middle of a confidence speech, made specifically in my honor, even though I wasn’t listening to the first half. “…and so help me God if I have to sit and watch you two walk away from each other. Christ, CiCi, I love you but these last few years have been…” she searches for the right word, desperate not to hurt my feelings while also remaining honest. “rough.”

“You forget that our history isn’t clear cut,” I remind her, my attention suddenly turned to the familiar cheering from the back corner. A large gang of bikers are intently watching the latest football game, slapping each other on the backs and delivering fist bumps around the table.

Mara follows my gaze to the back table. “See that?” she says. “See them? How happy they are? That’s what I want for you.” She slaps her leg, the exposed hole in the denim in her jeans amplifying the sound. “I would give this up for you, to see you that happy.” The edge of her lip turns up, giving me a half-drunk smile. “That’s how I much I love you. You can have my leg.”

Her words are slurry and I simply squeeze her hand. “I love you too.”

After calling an Uber and ensuring Mara makes it home safely, I retreat back home, into my own sanctuary. Unlocking the front door, I kick off my shoes, throw my coat over the back of my couch and make my way towards my bedroom, eager to get the bar smell off of my skin.

Mara’s words linger in my head. Is she right? Could Tyler and I have the future I always had secretly hoped we’d have? Throwing on some clean pajamas, I squirt some toothpaste on my toothbrush, letting my mind wander further. Would he be receptive to…me? Or did I unknowingly obilerate any chance of a future, and that’s the real reason why he left in the first place?

I spit into the sink, put some chapstick on and slide in under the covers. Just as I’m about to reach for my journal, I feel my phone buzz from inside my comforter.

It’s a text.

From Tyler.

Tyler: Hey

CiCi: Hey

Tyler: Honestly wasn’t sure if you were still awake or not

CiCi: Yeah. Late night out with Mara.

I add the beer emojis, even though neither of us had beer tonight.

Tyler: Lol! Sounds like fun. Actually, I have a question for you.

A question. My heart pinches in my chest, because there’s only one question I can think of him asking.

CiCi: What?

Tyler: I flew in a couple of days ago, and was wondering if you wanted to hang out?

There it is. My thumbs are frozen above the keys, while I reread his text a dozen more times. I can’t exactly decipher any flirtation in between the lines, but he could have a girlfriend and just doesn’t feel the need to mention anything to me about it. Which is fair, it’s not like it’s my business who’s in his life anymore.

A ache of longing blooms in my chest. But what if there isn’t anyone else in his life? The thought is enough to –

Tyler: You still awake?

I type out a response, and press send.

CiCi: Sorry, had to pee. But for sure, we can get together. What were you thinking?

I’m hopeful that I’m coming across as friendly and eager in a hey, haven’t seen you in forever, let’s catch up and not in a I promise I’m not desperate, but it’s been almost a decade and I still don’t think I’m over you yet – type way.

He doesn’t respond for a few minutes, making me think that I took too long in responding and that he went to bed. I take a quick glance at my alarm clock. 1:13am. But it is a Friday too.

A photo message pops up on my screen. It’s of a restaurant I’ve never heard of. The photos showcase a bar and grill style, with rustic wooden beams and neon signs all over the walls.

Tyler: I checked and they have a pretty extensive gluten free menu too

Of course he checked. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, but he still remembers small details like this.

CiCi: Sounds great! What time?

Tyler: Noon good?

CiCi: Yeah

Tyler: Great see you then

And with that I set my phone on my nightstand, wondering how on earth I’m supposed to sleep now.

Even after my late night out, my body still refused to sleep in, waking me up hours ahead of time to sit and ruminate about today. Journaling seemed to ease the mental knot inside my head, into a long, fluid string of thoughts. I promised myself that I wouldn’t hold any expectations for today (which was increasingly difficult, the closer the afternoon came).

With my phone smashed up between my ear and shoulder, I waited for Mara to pick up.

She answered with a gruntled noise that meant her hangover was in full swing this morning. “CiCi, it’s like the middle of the night.”

“It’s not actually. It’s late morning.”

Another grunt. “Your point being?”

I hold different tops in the mirror, trying to make a choice. “Tyler texted me last night.” This immediately wears away some of Mara’s hangover.

“What did he say? What did you say?”

I decide on a floral open backed shirt. “He wants to have lunch today. Like, in the next hour.”

“Holy shit.” The line fell silent for a minute before Mara spoke again. “This is it, you know.”

“We don’t know that,” I say, setting my phone on speaker so I can get dressed. We can only hope, I think before chastising myself for breaking my no expectations rule.

While I filled Mara in on the details, she reiterated everything I’d journaled earlier this morning. Don’t overthink anything. Don’t have any expectations. Don’t flirt – unless he flirts first. And most importantly, to call her as soon as I got home, so we could dissect every aspect of the date.

—-

For starting off as gray and overcast (which I took as a bad omen), the clouds had since parted, allowing the sun to defrost the light layer of snow on the ground. As I pulled into the parking lot, I scanned through the cars, even though I had no idea what Tyler would be driving. I pulled down the visor, looking at myself in the rectangular mirror. I certainly wouldn’t come in first place in a Miss America contest, but I was cute. A small town – type way cute. My hair fell in soft waves down my chest and my makeup was subtle enough that I looked put together, but not like I was trying too hard either.

As I got out, a tall figure stood waiting under the overhang, his back facing the parking lot. His shoulders were broad, his t-shirt practically clinging to his arms. Even from his backside, this was someone who easily had arms that one could ogle at for inappropriately long amounts of time.

But it didn’t matter. Just because this figure had arms for days, my interest was solely on –

Inside my purse, my phone gave a quick buzz. I pulled it out and immediately stopped in my tracks.

Tyler: I’m here at the front door.

No. This was Tyler? Suddenly the saliva in my mouth disappeared, making it almost impossible to swallow. Clearly one of his hobbies amongst traveling was hitting the gym.

Shaking my thoughts away, I went over and grabbed his arm, half in greeting, half to secretly feel if those muscles were in fact real. (They were).

He spun around, and surprised me again. He’d grown out a beard, along with sporting new glasses. He was practically unrecognizable, except for his signature grin.

“Hey stranger,” he said giving me a quick hug. He smelled faintly of his car freshener, with a twitch of deodorant.

“Pretty sure I’m the one who should be calling you stranger,” I said, vaguely motioning to him. “Wow.”

His cheeks turned a faint pink, shrugging off my compliment, like he was used to the flattery. And maybe he was. He probably had quite the gaggle of women at his beck and call back home. The thought stabbed at my gut, but I pushed it aside. No expectations, I reminded myself.

Country music played overhead as we stepped inside. The restaurant was packed, with families off to the side, clearly waiting for the rest of their parties to arrive. Staff members ran back and forth, careful not to bump into each other. A red-haired teenager pointed at us - “be right there you guys!” - before heading into the kitchen.

We scanned the bench, looking for somewhere to sit, when an elderly couple was called up to the hostess stand. We slipped into their spots, laughing at the baby run we’d done to secure the space.

“I forgot how cutthroat people can be when it comes to open seating,” he said laughing. His shoulder was pressed against me. The feel of his skin was both new and familiar. However, what I hadn’t noticed earlier was the edge of a tattoo poking out from under his shirt.

I laughed, while secretly trying to get a better look at what was hiding under the fabric. Just as I was about to ask, the teenager from earlier waved us to follow her, menus tucked under her arm.

For as busy as it was, we got our drinks and orders placed relatively fast. I watched as Tyler looked around at the televisions, to other customers, to me, back to the televisions, to his phone, and back to me.

Was he really feeling shy all of a sudden? We’d known each other for years – even if we hadn’t seen each other in the last couple.

“So,” we said in unison.

“Please, ladies first,” he said, motioning for me to continue.

I shook my head. “Oh. I was…just…I was just going to ask…” What was happening? Why couldn’t I get my question out?

“Traveling’s been good,” he filled in. “That’s what you were going to ask, right?” I nodded. I appreciated his initiative, and his ignorance at my middle school girl-crushes-on-boy fumbling.

“It gave me what I needed.” He glances out the near window, clearly reminiscing on his memories.

I smiled alongside him, watching as his mouth ticked up, his brow furrowing with each memory that played through his mind. I wished I shared in his memories.

For awhile he shared with me stories of his adventures, and I shared stories of the life I’d slowly been building here back home. He was impressed when I told him of my promotion to head chef, grabbing my hand and telling me he always knew I’d make it.

The gesture was quick, but the electricity it sent down my legs made me grateful that we were already sitting down.

After all the small talk topics had been discussed, only one topic stood left, my desire for it to be talked about quickly dwindling. We’d quickly formed back into our old patterns and I didn’t want it to change. This is us, I thought. It’s our dynamic. We joke, we laugh. A nagging voice in the back of my head had other ideas.

Tyler must’ve been thinking on it too, taking an unnecessarily large drink of his water. Like he had a mental countdown in his head and was stalling out the last seconds.

“So,” he said, giving his lips a quick wipe with his sleeve.

“So,” I mirrored. Neither of us spoke, and I could feel the light-hearted energy disappearing with each second, replaced with something stoic.

“I think we should talk,” he said.

I nodded.

He stared at the polish on my nails. Was he waiting for me to kick off this awkward walk down memory lane?

“I’m really sorry,” I said. He was rubbing his knuckles, nodding. I wasn’t sure if he was nodding in a forgiveness-type way, or nodding in that he was sorry too. When his eyes met mine, I saw it was clearly the latter.

Unbeknownst to me, my emotions had been corked in a bottle, and now that the cork had been popped off, apologies and memories flooded out. “I didn’t know what to do. I wanted you, but…” the words stopped short in my throat. “Our history…it’s complicated.”

“I know.”

“I still loved you,” I said. “Even after every breakup. Even during my relationships. You were still in my heart, and I think the other guys sensed it.”

For the first time, his gaze went from friendly, to…disinterest? Anger?

His eyes met mine. “Just because you loved me, doesn’t mean I felt loved by you.” His words cut my heart in half. But there was truth in them. How could I have truly loved him, when I abused his heart by lining mine up with other people’s?

Regret washes over his face, realizing the depth his words just took on my heart.

He reached for my hand again, and this time it felt like a stranger’s touch. “CiCi, I want you to know…. I do forgive you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” I put my other hand on top of his. “I forgave you years ago, right when I forgave myself for the way I treated you.”

For the way he treated me?

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Our waitress brings our meals to the table, clearly sensing the deep conversation we’re having and quickly disappears.

Tyler’s meal is still sizzling, and while mine is too, I’m too hungry to wait.

“You weren’t the only one who did the hurting. I hurt you too. I pushed you away every time you came close. I knew the love you deserved, and I knew that I couldn’t give it to you. Not then.” Tears begin to well in my eyes, and I’m quick to wipe them away.

“I’m sorry Cierra.” He places a tight grip on my forearm, as if a tighter grip insinuates a more heartfelt apology.

He keeps his hand firmly on my arm. “I forgive you.” I say.

He gives me a full, authentic smile, one I haven’t seen in years but have missed terribly.

We fall into a slightly more comfortable silence while we eat, but I still don’t feel quite confident to know if he still wants me. We apologized for the messiness of our past, but neither of us has made any mention about the future – and whether that future includes each other.

“Why did you come back?” I ask, picking at the last bites off my plate.

Tyler ponders my question with that inquisitive look that only he can do, before looking at me. The moment we share is brief. He looks out the window again. I don’t see what he’s staring at exactly, other than the full parking lot, but I do my best to follow his gaze.

“Because I’m ready to come home.” he eyes me for my response, and my face fails him by giving a neutral expression.

“I’m ready to come home,” he repeats. “To this place. To you. I’m ready now.” Tears well again in my eyes, but this time I let them slide down my cheeks.

He wipes the tears away, still searching my face for a response. “This could be our last chance. I think we need to take it.”

I break into a smile and fit of tears, nodding with him. “Let’s take it.”

“I’m not sorry,” Damon grabs my arm forcing me to face him. We’re in the middle of a parking lot. It’s mostly empty except for a few cars, a truck and a van. “For what Damon?” I ask, a cool wind blowing my blonde hair over my into my face. Damon gently brushes my hair away from my eyes, “You know what Mia.” I look away from Damon’s dark eyes, shaking my head slightly. “Mia, I know you love me,” Damon mutters, “And I love you. This could be our last chance. Why don’t we just take it?”

I flash my eyes to Damon’s, “Because I don’t love you,” I feel tears spring into my eyes, “And I can’t be with you.” Damon’s hand falls off my arm, “Don’t do this,” he whispers. I take a deep breath, “I already have.”

I turn to walk away, holding back my tears so that Damon won’t see me crying.

He grabs my arm again, twirling me around to face him. We crash into each other our faces inches apart. “Mia, I’m not sorry.” Damon’s dark eyes are focused on mine. Drawing me in. “What?” I mumble. “I’m not sorry that knowing you has made me question everything in life. That just seeing you makes me feel alive. . .I’m not sorry that I’m in love with you.”

I feel a tear escape my eye, as a street lamp flickers in the distance. “So only say no,” Damon whispers, “If you really don’t want to be with me.”

“I. . .”

In the end we regret what we haven’t done. But instead we should look at what we have done. Right? My mom asks this question everyday. She’s not looking for an answer she’s looking for away around life. I lean my head against the door. Mom and dad are arguing and this time I can’t tell what it’s about. “This could be our last chance?” Dad shouts, making the door shake as he slams his fist on the table. “Why don’t we just take it?” I could hear mom say something, she sounded sad. Like alwyas. It was something I wish I could fix. Something she didn’t need in life. Something we all didn’t need. “I can’t try again!” Moms voice was loud. “I just want us to be a family!” Dad hits the table again. “But we’re not. And I’m too afraid to try.” “No, Kathy that’s not it. Your just afraid to screw up again.” I could hear Mom choke a sob out, “Micheal.” Dad cut her off, “No I don’t want to hear it.” He gave mom a quick little laugh, “I don’t need to hear it.” I took my ear away from the door. It was too much to hear my parents fight. Mostly it was about me. And that’s why I almost want to run away. They’re ending a perfect marriage because of me. I’m a good person, or at least I always thought I was. So why did I always ruin everyone’s lives? That’s the question I want answered. I grabbed my back pack, stuffed it with a few things mostly shirts. And climbed out the window. My room was on the top floor. Luckily there was a giant oak tree right out my window that me, Mallory and Lily had always climbed as kids. I stuck my foot out land reached for the thick branch that was a few inches away. Climbing the tree was the simple part of the night, figuring out where I was going to go and what story I would tell. That was the hard part. I could easily make something up but if I couldn’t believe it then how was I suppose to make others believe it? I landed quietly on the dirt ground. I didn’t even look behind my shoulder as I ran. I just left my home. I decided that running to the back roads that were a few yards away from my house would be a good start. No one ever drove on them. I always thought they were haunted. I walked on the side of the road closest to the forest, in case I needed to run away. Except that the forest scared me so if I ran I probably wouldn’t run that way. But it’s good to have choices. Especially at night. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket. I had missed three calls from Mom. I wanted to call her back, and tell her everything was going to be okay. And this time maybe it would be right. I was leaving she could fix her marriage. I called Mom back, holding the phone up to my ear. But all I got was that ring that always made me think she never would answer. I hung up before it could go to voice mail. “You okay?” I stopped in my tracks looking around me. There was no one out there. Maybe I had just heard it, maybe I was hoping that someone was there. Someone that I could talk to. A figure came out from the middle of the deserted road. “Hello?” I asked, trying to move forward but failing. The figure came up to me, and in the moon light I could make it out. His brown eyes glowed almost an orange. And his pitch black hair was dark. I had never seen hair as dark as his. “What are you doing out here?” He asked standing in front of me. “I was just um. . . You know. Talking a walk.” He smiled nodding, “At midnight? Little dangerous don’t you think.” I tried to nodded back. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or something else. Something I couldn’t explain. “Sometimes danger is good.” He smiled, “I’m Tyler.” I smiled back, without any problems, “I’m Elina.” “Well, it was nice to meet you. I better get going. My family just moved in and I should be back by now. My brother Malachai told me not to be gone for too long.”
I nodded as he walked past me, “It was nice to meet you too.” He lifted his hand above his head. The way my Dad would wave when he didn’t feel like turning around and saying goodbye. I watched as Tyler walked away. His family had just moved in. Did he mean here? He seemed so much nicer than everyone in the town maybe I shouldn’t run away. Maybe I should stick around. Maybe tonight was the night my terriable life would get turned around. I walked almost ran back home. Tomorrow I was going to go by Tyler’s house and give his family brownies. It seemed like the best idea. And I always went with the best ideas.

It’s like you can’t move or breathe when you think of her. You think back to the special moments you would spend together and how much it meant to you. It’s so hard for you to imagine what could have been. You’re sure she doesn’t think of you, but she does. She thinks of you almost every day and night. When she sees you, her heart melts with joy but also sorrow for everything you could have been. You see her. She sees you. Your eyes melt together, like a moment meant to be. You are drawn to her more than anyone else knows. You’ve fought this sensation time and time again, but you love her. She can’t hold on any longer, she goes to you. “I love you,” You say. “I love you too.” “This could be our last chance. Why don’t we just take it?”

The heads of my men hung dejectedly as they nursed their wounds, a layer of gravitas settling over the room. I glanced over the group, my heart sinking at the sight. All these soldiers, people I'd trained and fought with....they'd all been beaten and broken to the point of losing hope.

I couldn't blame them. I mean, who am I kidding, we all knew it was a lost cause from the beginning. But that didn't change the fact that it was our job to try.

I struggled to my feet, pain shooting up my leg from where it had been cut. I winced but kept hobbling forward until I was in front of the group. I cleared my throat, earning a few stares but most of them ignored me.

"Men," I started. "We didn't win today."

Everyone was looking now. Someone chuckled darkly, but nobody spoke.

"I know this was a hard loss, but everybody loses sometimes. We have to pick ourselves up and try again."

"It's suicide," someone shouted.

I sighed. "If I'm being honest, Lieutenant, we all knew that from the beginning. Now, either we get back out there, or we go home to the President and tell him we give up. Which option sounds better to you?"

Every face flinched at the thought of admitting failure. It would be better to die on the field than by the President's command.

"Guys, this could be our last chance. Why don't we just take it?"

"If I have to die, I'd rather it be for something I believe in," one man right in front of me stated, sorrow drenching his features.

I looked him in the eye. "Same here. And I believe in all of you. So, I'm willing to fight and die alongside you all. How about you?"

Nala and Rohan grew up together in a small town upstate New York. They dreamed of flying. When they were six, they would pretend they were birds or dragonflies and run around the yard. When they were ten, they would act as pilots, commanding a cardboard box or a swing set as if taking off and soaring through the air. At age twelve, they would eagerly rush home and do their homework, both top students in the eighth grade, excelling in science and mathematics. This, of course, was part of their plan to fulfill their life long dream - to defy the laws of nature, to make an affront to physics: to fly.

These plans, which dictated Nala and Rohans actions for years, turned out to be quite delicate. Much like a glass window shattered by a brick, these intentions of theirs were destroyed around Rohan's seventeenth birthday. Driving together to meet up with some friends from high school, a drunk driver struck their vehicle. Nala had lost an eye, and Rohan was bound to a wheelchair. And thus, the two were barred from ever becoming pilots.

After losing the one thing that had bound them together for so many years, the pair now grew distant. Though it was the fault of a drunk driver, Nala couldn't held but grow resentment towards her once dear friend who was driving at the time of the incident. Rohan picked up on this quickly, and the rift tore them apart. Years had past, each moved on with their lives on their own accord.

Then one day, Nala received a phone call from Rohan, and they talked. And talked, and talked. Turns out, neither of them were doing very well after the accident. So they decided to meet at Rohan's apartment complex, where he bragged of having a rooftop with views of New York City.

At the top of the 35 floor complex, Nala and Rohan could see for miles. They took in all the city surrounding them. Rohan was sure they were thinking the same thing - this must be what it would be like to be a bird, soaring at the height of buildings and even higher. Rohan rolled his way over to the edge. Looking down, he said to Nala "This might be our last chance. Why don't we take it?" And with that, he used his arms to lift himself over the railing, and flew to the ground below.

[District 7, Neon City]

(Sofia’s point of view)

Alzec hadn’t spoken a word since they left the Wasps compound. Sofia on the other hand was being consoled by the young girl. Noel sat staring into the front windshield.

“He led us out here to die” Sofia gasped, still looking out at the Ash city as the sun started its accent.

“We got found out. It happens” Alzec said back nonchalantly. “Sometimes stuff just goes bad”

“How many people have died in front of you?” Sofia started to raise her voice again. “People you cared about?”

She stuck her finger in his face. Alzec didn’t look her way, just seemed to be focused on the broken roadway. He let out a sigh.

“To many to count” Then he skidded to a stop, just short of an on-ramp.

Stepping out of the suv he quickly tossed open Noel and Her doors. Pointing to the Neon City across the waterway.

“Go! If you are gonna run just go!” Alzec’s face was stone cold ice, not an ounce of emotion.

“Go where?” Sofia hoped out the truck, quickly closing the gap between the two of them. “The only person who I know is dead. This place is foreign!”

Alzec didn’t back up as she stopped ahead of him, a hand on her sword. He quickly turned to his right and kicked the sword out of its sheath in a single motion. It clanged to the gravel a few arms lengths away.

“You put your hand to your blade like I didn’t teach you all you know” Alzec was leaning back against the stone rail of the on ramp.

“You knew what we were sent out to do” She lunged at him, leading with her left first.

As he grabbed her wrist, she swing with her right. Nearly missing his chest as he hopped back onto the railing. Anger flaring in her eyes like a city ablaze.

“It was very sensitive information “ He huffed, dodging her next swing. “Spider didn’t want it to get out. Routine training exercise was the cover. It was a secret “ He caught her right hand and pushed her back into the suv.

“Sofia please stop” Noel stepped out of the car, Olivia at her heals.

“No I can’t “ She rushed him again, this time not swinging.

She tackled him to the ground, just short of the ramp wall. Sobbing as tears started to fall, she hit him twice weekly in the chest. Alzec didn’t move or flinch, instead he wrapped her in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to end this way” He looked up at Noel and Olivia just standing there as two more strikes collided with his muscular core.

“It’s not fair” She continued to sob.

“It never is” He whispered.

(Alzec’s point of view)

Hours had gone by since they returned to the compound. Sofia had been sent away to her and Emond’s quarters. The girls had followed trying to be of help.

He on the other hand had to bring Emond’s body to the doctor. To be set up for a burial. Then off to see Spider, which he knew wouldn’t be pretty.

Spider was out on the balcony as Alzec approached, a smile on his face as the boy climbed the stairs. Even a wave, it didn’t make sense.

“How goes your day?” He said in a much giddier voice then Alzec thought humanly possible.

“We got beat, lost Emond in the process “ Alzec hung his head in shame, stopping just short of the top step.

“I heard. But it just so happens that I know why. And am already getting ready to head the next invasion “ Spider let a sly grin peak from his lips. “ We did have two spies in our camp. Both will be delt with tonight “

As Spider spoke a loud sound started to echo across the lawn. It sounded like a helicopter, or multiple helicopters.

Peaking his head back he saw them, three VTOL air ships brandishing the Spec Sec logo across the bottom headed towards the ground. A three set of spears, held on a shield.

“What are they?” Alzec asked as the three ships landed on the plantation grass.

Two men and a woman jumped out of the first, all wearing the Spec Sec armors and logo. The first man throwing up his hands at the sight of Spider.

“As I live and breathe. A Spider amongst the ashes “ He smiled climbing the stairs, the others following his stride in toe.

“How long it’s been?” Spider gave the man a quick embrace.

“Years for sure. So why am I here?” He stood just out of reach of his two handlers. Battle hardened for sure. Neither have Alzec even a glance.

“Wasp has become his own problem, he’s moving people from the main lands, getting them shipped here from other cities too” Spider sat at a small white metal table, inviting everyone to sit.

“Human trafficking at its finest “ The man shook his head. “I remember a long time ago when he wouldn’t even touch drugs.”

“What a long time ago that was” Spider looked over at Alzec as he sat. “We don’t pretend to be good, but I don’t bring girls and women from other cities to have them taken by my men and anyone who will pay a nice fee”

“The city has no quarrel with what goes on out here. Except when that happens to start stuff in the city. Do you know a Nobel house was knocked over? Whole family dead, minus the children” He slammed his hand down on the table.

“That said house is in ruins but only had daughters. Seems to be a sad arrangement of marriage in one of their futures.“ Spider shook his head knowing full well how the big city did its business. “What if I told you that I knew something about that too?”

“What could you know about that? You have never stepped foot on the main land by my knowledge “

“That is very true. Yet I have seen the pictures on that blasted set my mother watches. I know them all”

“Are you telling me the three girls are over here?”

“Would you like to meet them?” Spider smiled a bit. “It’s funny what their drugs do. To the human mind. One of the girls doesn’t even remember her sisters, the other two are joined at the hip”

“Your telling me I’m here because Wasp has them all?”

“No, they are here safe” Spider stood up. “We move on Wasp tonight. I would like to have your assistance, with this problem at hand.”

“The girls are here” The man looked puzzled. “Can I take them?”

“One won’t go. She lost a very close friend to Wasp. So I’m sure she’ll want to be there when we get him.”

“Makes sense. We’ll meet here tonight, we can fly out there and catch him off guard. I’ll have boots on the ground as well” Then man gave him a nod and started back for his air ship. “You owe me one!”

“Go fetch the girls!” Spider ordered him, heading into the house.

Alzec stood there for a moment taking in every word he’d just been allowed to hear. Processing it all in his mind. Before he set off towards the house. Knowing full well this day was about to get way more muddled.

[Sofia’s point of view]

(Sofia’s residence)

Noel was sitting at the edge of the long sofa, Olivia on the other hand was in the kitchen trying to put together a pot of tea. Sofia hadn’t spoken since they entered the house. They could hear her tossing around things upstairs, sobbing the entire time.

Spider had given them cloths, all of Emond’s where being tossed aside into a basket. His room upstairs an empty hole. They had only spent a few months here. Yet it had felt like home.

“Sofia! Tea is ready” Olivia called in a chipper tone from the floor below.

Slowly she floated down the stairs like a ghost. Hanging on the banisters edge as Alzec’s stepped through the front door. Ignoring him she fled right to the kitchen. Not even batting an eye in his direction.

“We have some information” Alzec said to Noel as the other girls hung out in the kitchen. “I know she won’t listen to me. Spider is going back tonight with help from some other friends, they are going to take Wasp out.”

“That’s good” Noel said as Olivia and Sofia stood at the doorway to the kitchen. “We will be there”.

“Tell Spider that Wasp is mine” Sofia said without looking in Alzec’s direction.

“He knew that would be your choice” Alzec said dropping onto the couch.

“You won’t be staying “ Sofia said as if he wasn’t in the room.

“I have more information “

“Well I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ll kill Wasp then I’m leaving.” Sofia took a sip of tea from a homemade metal cup.

“What she said” Olivia added in.

“It’s about all of you” Alzec stood up. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him, but the man made his choice. Which was her life over his own.” He looked right at Sofia while he spoke. “They are holding a vigil for him in an hour, after we are leaving to take Wasp out”

“We will be there as well. She just needs some time” Noel stood up and started toward the door. “I’m sure in some time she’ll be ready to talk to you” Noel whispered the last part as Alzec stepped out of the house.

“There’s one more thing but I’ll let Spider tell y’all” Alzec gave a bow and turned off down the stairs.

Noel closed the door and looked right at Sofia. A look of disappointment on her face. She understood the process of grief but this was making it his fault.

“You gonna get dressed?” Noel asked moving across the room toward where they both sat.

“Yeah” Sofia slipped past with her head dropping to the floor, a few tears running down her face.

“She misses him” Olivia looked at her older sister with a sigh. “He saved me… she should be mad at me”

A small breeze had started to blow as the night set in. A large pyre stood just outside of the Spiders mansion. Two men sat on there knee’s, ankles and arms tied up. Tap across their mouths, terrified expressions on their faces as the crowd got bigger.