To The Rescue

Out of all the situations I had imagined, the actual reality of what I was seeing was....just too horrible to comprehend.
I put a sleeve of my jacket to my nose, trying to not heave up my breakfast as I surveyed the dismal conditions.
How could anyone in their right mind do this to a single creature, let alone hundreds? Everywhere I looked I could see no sign of food, no water, and the room was cold enough to keep ice from melting.

It got worse as I picked my way carefully among the containers these breeders thought fit to call cages. A closer look within showed deceased bodies intermingled with those still alive. Hardly fit to be called alive in many cases. Blood, missing limbs, skeletal frames. This...this was horrible. These creatures didn't deserve such a life!
"Leave me. I'll bring out the ones that we can save." I told the others.
They were used to my methods by now, and so left without complaint. Probably happy to get away from the smell of a hundred dumps mashed together in a space hardly the size of a baseball field. Oh, this was the worst I'd seen yet.
Just because a place was going bankrupt, didn't mean that they had to stop feeding the animals in their possession. How could this have gone on for so long without any of the workers complaining! Did none of them have a conscience? A soul? For the suffering around them?

I turned down one narrow alley. The reptiles and amphibians. The survivors would need proper heat, proper food. Luckily I came prepared with my volunteers. We had all the necessary things. I just hoped it would be enough.

The work would have gone faster if there had been more than just me sorting through the live, injured, and dead creatures all around. But as much as I trusted the others, I didn't trust them. This. This I would do alone.
Slowly, taking it one tub, one crowded cage at a time. I sorted through the creatures. Starting with the easier Tortoises and Turtles, and making may way down to the geckos, anoles, frogs. Moving quickly and efficiently I sorted each cage into the three categories I'd designated. Placing them just outside the main room to my volunteers with instructions on what to do with each section. The dead, to be properly disposed off, the injured and sickly to see the vet for evaluation, the apparent healthy ones to the other vet to ensure they were as healthy as they seemed before they were taken to be cleaned off, given food and water, and placed in proper containers for them.
It was grizzly work.
A massive undertaking.
But I would not rest until all these creatures had been seen to.

-Inspiration from reading an article online about dismal conditions a reptile breeder kept their animals in.

A Taste For Blood

I took a gulp from the chalice, and the world exploded around me.
Lighting zipped down my throat, filling me with such energy that I may as well have been an exploding volcano. So much color filled my sight. The vividness of greens, blues, and of course. Bright bright red. It was like getting glasses for the first time all over again. Details I hadn't known were there sprung out from every direction I looked. The grain in the woods, the weave of the cloth, the intricate colors in my companion's feverous eyes.
I found myself jostling for space, snarling as grabbed onto the dented pewter bowl, fighting and clawing the others to get another sip, another taste of this miracle substance. I had to have more. To feel this alive again. I had to have it.
But all too soon, the large bowl contained nothing but scratches in its surface from our claws. Snarling I lifted my head, nostrils flaring, more. I needed more!
I stilled. There. A wift. There was more elsewhere.
But others had caught the scent of more blood elsewhere. As I moved, they surged forward with me, some on twos others on fours scrambling to get to the scent first.
We burst through the doors in a tidal wave.
Only to be met with the acrid smell of musket fire. Bullets whizzed by my head, hitting the mob around me as we rushed to the source of the smell. The scent behind the fire.
A cannonball exploded, sending me tumbling through the air. Away from the blood, away from the life source I could smell.
The wall of the church crumbled at my impact, chunks of mortar pelting me as I dropped, head hitting the jagged edge of a stone.
Blood. My own. Filling my mouth, washing away the heavenly flavors of the other blood, leaving a rotten, vomit inducing taste in my mouth.
I gagged, stomach heaving within as hard as the stones from the falling church wall were hitting me from above.

*****

I'd hardly straightened, from pulling myself free from the rubble that had once been a wall, when a blade pressed up tight against my throat.
I froze, my eyes following the blade. Pausing on the gun, pointed at me on top of the sword. Then reaching the face of the human about to kill me.
My nostrils flared as I watched fresh blood drip down the side of his face from a wound on his head. The tantalizing scent, right there. I wanted it. Badly. Only the blade, and the own rotten taste in my mouth keeping me from moving forward.
The man frowned, finger tightening on the trigger, eyes on mine. I didn't move.
"Name?" He asked me suddenly.
I blinked, tearing my stare away from his wound to his eyes. What?
The blade pressed a little more against my throat. "Name?" He demanded again.
I frowned. Name? The word had meaning....but I couldn't place why.
I swallowed, hating the awful taste in my mouth. "I...Don't Know." I managed, watching a flesh streak of crimson make its way down his face to drip off his chin. I licked my lips.
His eyes narrowed further, becoming almost slits. "Move." He said his blade against my throat moving to the side of my neck, goading me to move in the direction he wanted me to go.
I barred my teeth, irritated though I didn't know why and stepped to the side, stumbling over a rock in the process. His blade never left my throat, the gun never deviating its aim from my forehead as he walked me away from the battle.  

*****

"What is that thing doing here, Cairo?" asked a tall bull of a man with a voice like thunder.
I wasn't a thing, I thought irritated all over again, but I was wondering the same thing. Chained to a fence like an animal. I stayed hunkered down out of the main site of the other humans. Glancing to the male, this Cairo apparently, who stood guard near me, the bright red blood on his face now dried to a dingy brown color, I saw him straighten as the bigger male approached. Why was I here?
It wasn't like I couldn't see the others that had been with me being dragged into a pile a bare hundred yards away. Dead. Dismembered. Beheaded. Bloody in general. But Dead. All of them, but me.
"This one is different, General." Cairo said calmly.
"Different?!" He roared stomping up to this Cairo. "These monsters are killing machines, Cairo!" He jabbed a finger in my direction. I growled, barring my teeth, the hair on my neck standing up. Oh, this one I did not like. "They drink blood, they go crazy, and then we kill them before they kill us!"
Cairo raised an eyebrow. "She drank the blood." He agreed. "But, she hasn't tried to attack me. She can speak."
"Speak? You're delusional, Cairo."
Cairo turned to me. "Name." He asked me again.
I wrinkled my nose. "I don't know." I told him again.
The General turned more fully to me. "What did you say?"
I growled, not liking his tone of voice. "I. Don't. Know." I repeated.
Cairo smirked. "Told you she was different." 

-Inspiration from watching Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Quote: "What did you do?" "I fed them!"  

Shifting Sides

"What are you doing with yourself Luke?" I muttered, staring at my reflection in the mirror, searing my dark eyes. What was I doing? Being nice? Helping people? It wasn't what I did. It wasn't who I was. Was it?
I pulled the towel from my head, tossing it in a corner.
Hadn't I left in the first place because I was tired of being me? Tired of bringing fear to every soul I came across? How I just wanted to go somewhere and blend in for once.
I ran a hand through my damp hair, avoiding looking in the mirror.
Enough of the philosophical crap for one day. I was who I was. Having fun. Causing trouble. Bringing Mayhem. It's what I did. Would continue to do. Nothing would change.
I finished tying the laces on my shoes, snatching up the keys as I passed by the kitchen counter. Time to go cause more trouble. They would see. I was still the same old Prince of Darkness everyone knew.

-Inspiration from watching the TV show Lucifer

Chains and Red Shoes

The chains rubbed against my already raw wrists. As we were forced to once again kneel in the dirt, treated worse than wild dogs, in order for a potential buyer to inspect us.
I gritted my teeth, the stripes from my last beating still fresh across my back. I didn't care, So long as I had injuries, I could ensure that I wouldn't be taken into any nobleman's house. They only wanted the pretty slaves, not the scarred ones.
Fancy leather red shoes stopped in front of me. Oh great. I'd been noticed.
I snapped my teeth, barely missing his hand as he reached down to lift my chin up. Lucky him. Most nobles had lax reflexes.
"Stubborn girl aren't you?" He said again reaching down.
"Touch me and you lose your fingers." I growled, keeping my head down.
It didn't stop the task master from sending a fresh set of whip marks across my back.
I barely twitched. It was worth it. More marks, less likely for a buyer to buy me. The master would regret taking my family as slaves. Regret splitting us up. Only I was left. And I would be left, long after he'd sold all his other slaves.
"Apologies my Lord, this one is ill tempered," He said smoothly. "Perhaps some of the women further down would be more to your liking." He directed Red Shoes away from me, but I barely had time to relax, before he was back. I hardly had time to spit at his feet, before he was behind me. The chains lose. Him jerking me up to my feet. I turned to kick him, my toes barely missing smashing into his nose. Handsome face. I had time to notice, before the task master had me face down in the dirt seeing stars.
"My Lord, apologies once more for her ill temper." He said, bowing low enough that his overlong nose nearly brushed the dirt. "I insist, I have far better than her."
"And as I have already insisted. I am taking her." He said, pulling me back to my feet like a sac of potatoes. "You have your money." he said again dodging my kick, he forced me forward, making me stumble away or risk face planting into the dirt.
"I'm going to make you regret this!"
He chuckled. "Woman, you're going to thank me at the end of this."

-Inspiration from Listening to the Aida Soundtrack -How I Know You

Life Line

"Please, don't do this!" I yelled, desperately climbing up the my life line.
My second in command, shot me the vilest smile, his eyes wide with excitement as the knife sliced through the last few threads of rope.
My heart dropped as quickly as the rope did as I plummeted away from the ship. I screamed, hands still clinging to the now useless rope, as I fell through the stars into the black hole below, my second's victorious laugh echoing in my ears, his smile burning into my eyes, never to be forgotten...

You know for the twenty seconds I had left to live.

-Inspiration from watching Treasure Planet

Seeing Double

I fell, scooting backwards as quickly as I could, to get as far from her as possible. It wasn't much. Maybe three feet between me, the bars and her.
She learned forward, her cold smile sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, is ittle kitty afwaid?" she cooed.
Afraid was bit of an understatement. "Y-yes" I squeaked.
She laughed, eyes glittering with hatred. "Good." She pushed away. "Do. Not. Disappoint me. Again. Clone." She tossed a mini box of cereal at my feet. "Eat up. You have a big day tomorrow." She turned, not waiting for me to reply.
I closed my eyes, not at all hungry.
Tomorrow....tomorrow I had to betray my friends.

-Inspiration from watching The Flash. Season 2 Episode 15  

Just One Dance

I smiled to the gentlemen nobles, curtsying to them as they paraded past, looking for their partner for the first dance of the evening.
It was just a façade for me. At twenty and four years old, still unmarried, I knew that no one would be looking at me. With a face as plain as mine, I was easily overlooked by the men looking for a more beautiful partner. For a more beautiful wife.
Still, I held a faint hope, that maybe this dance would be different. That maybe, something would change. That I would be found pleasing to someone, and I too would find him pleasing in return.
Yet, I knew. That it would only be a matter of time before my parents would consider sending me to the nunnery. I was a burden to them already, their third daughter of seven children, the only one unmarried, when I should have been married before my younger brother and sisters. At least at the nunnery I could devote myself to God, to serving him.
Which, if I had had any inclination to do such a thing, I would have chosen that route two years ago myself.
But the thought of sitting indoors all day, praying or doing whatever else that nuns do, literally made me ill. Perhaps if I'd been less of a wild child, less inclined to go wandering in the woods and take up the arts of sewing and painting and heaven forbid, cooking, I would have found a husband already.
I straightened as the last of the nobles passed by, unsurprised, but still hurt that once again I'd been passed by. I hide it with a smile, stepping back off the dance floor to allow the partnered men and women to have the full floor for the first dance.
My hands clenched briefly on my skirt, as I heard the first refrains of the Winterhall echoed about the room. My favorite dance, and once again, I would not be dancing it. I stepped out onto the balcony, leaning against the railing to smell the roses below.
"You do not like to dance?" A voice asked from the shadows.
I jumped, surprised to see a newcomer standing there. He dressed as a noble, so I hurriedly straightened in order to properly curtsy. "I love it, actually, sir" I said politely.
"Then why are you not within, partaking of the activity?" He asked stepping out of the shadows so I could see his face. A wound, only recently scabbed over, like he'd been cut by a knife from above his right eye to below his left, marred his face.
I frowned, turning to reach down to the rose petals, pulling a few free. He had a handsome enough face, and the scar helped to highlight his vivid green eyes, but he would want to have it not be as visible once it was fully healed. "Obviously because no one has asked me sir." I said turning back to him. "May I? The petals will help that heal much faster." I said showing him the petals. It was nice that he'd engaged me in conversation, one highlight to what was going to be another dismal evening.
He frowned. "Those do not heal, wounds M'lady."
I smirked. "Obviously you have not learned the art of healing then, good sir." I said, taking it as a yes that I could. I scored the petals with my thumbnail, placing the scored edge against the scab. "For if you know the secrets, all plants have a healing purpose."
I shouldn't have been so bold, but at this point, I was beyond caring. Who wanted to marry me? If anyone did, I would have been asked back before this point.
"And how do you know the secrets?" He asked, after I pulled the petals away.
I shrugged. "You learn a thing or two when no one asks you to dance." I curtsied to him as I heard the last refrains of my favorite dance. "Place scored rose petals there every evening, for a few minutes and you'll never even know you were injured there, M'Lord, by the next new moon."
He nodded thoughtfully, glancing inside. "I will keep that in mind M'lady." He probably wished to be away from me.
I would obliged him. "They'll be starting the next dance soon." I told him turning back to the roses. "You should go inside and find a lady to dance with."
"And are you not going inside?" He asked, leaning against the banister with me.
I glanced at him and shook my head. "I hate this particular one." I told him pushing away from the bannister. "Good evening M'Lord." I turned, lightly bounding down the steps into the garden below. If I had any saving grace, it was that I could run down a flight of stairs in heels breaking my neck. An attribute to running wild in the forest during my youth. I had a keen sense of balance from all my adventures.

-Inspiration from watching Pride and Prejudice (Keira Knightley version.)

Burned Alive

The flames engulfed me, a raging fireball like molten lava, searing into my skin burning and destroying everything that made up who I was. My body gone, crumbling into dust in a second, but I was too racked in pain to notice. Notice that I should already be dead.
Yet, here I was.....

I coughed, wheezing for breath as consciousness took hold of me once more. Soot, I thought I saw, as my vision cleared when I remembered to open my eyes. A thick layer of soot covered everything, and as I stirred, it kicked up more dust into the air, making it more difficult to breathe.
Soot...
That was....Important....how was it important? What was the purpose of soot?
I pushed up, my vision blurring. For a second I thought I saw green scaly claws where my hands were. But that would be impossible. I got to my feet, barely able to keep my knees from sending me back to the ground, as I staggered to a blackened wall, half destroyed, to lean against it. More soot....soot....from....a fire.
I ran a hand over my head, frowning, as I felt no hair there, almost it felt like scales...but no, my head was smooth. Fire....I'd been in a fire....to...my thoughts skittered unable to pin anything down.
This...
This wasn't right.
I remembered burning, but I felt...fine. I couldn't tell until I could clean myself off, but...I didn't feel a spot of injury anywhere on me.
A fire....me within...me burning....yet.....not.
My strength waned suddenly, and I found myself coughing again as my collapse kicked up a fresh pile of dust into the air.
How was I alive?

-Inspiration from watching Big Hero 6. Where Tadashi runs into the burning building.

Buried

Rocks tore at his fingernails as he frantically dug through the dirt that buried him in the earth.
Escape.
He coughed, as dust scattered up into his nostrils. What if he couldn't get out? What if he was just burying himself further? He dug all the more frantically, his energy already waning.
Come on. Come on. COME ON!

Fresh air never tasted so good. He breathed in deeply, resting for a moment, still mostly buried. But now he had fresh air, he could see to the world above. It calmed him. He would get out of this.
It took much longer than he wanted, to pull himself free, but finally, he stood, albeit shakily on solid ground.

-Inspiration from watching a documentary about vampires

To Save Them

I never wanted this position. I thought, staring at my reflection in the glass window, not seeing the green scenery below me. I'd never sought to be this....this charade.
This was not me. I didn't want to do all the things I'd done. I banged my fist against one of the panels, making the glass tremble, before I pushed away, straightening from my half crouch, adjusting the mantel around my shoulders. But they had had to be done.
For the greater good.
I really hoped....hoped that it was for the greater good. My fingers were stained red from the blood of my closest confident, my closest friend, the only man who'd ever seen me as I was, seen me in my vulnerable moment and hadn't betrayed me.
And now. I'd taken his position. Killed my friend, because he asked me to, taken over the power he held.
To another, I suppose, it would have been the sweetest feeling.
To have hundreds of thousands of soldiers at their command.
All of them sworn to obey any order given by their head.
By them.

By me.
I exhaled.
This war had to end.
Let it end today, I prayed quietly, though after all the atrocities I'd committed...I didn't have confidence that anyone above would be listening to me.
Maybe, someday, everyone else would earn the truth.
That they would no longer see me as the tyrant I portrayed myself to be.
Maybe.
But probably never.

I grabbed my sword, buckling it around my waist, before I threw open the door, my façade already in place. "WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE FOR?" I roared, glaring at the hapless guard standing in front of my door. "WE HAVE A BATTLE TO PREPARE FOR! GO! NOW! BEFORE I DEMOTE YOU TO SLAVE!"
The guard hesitated, but I was the Head. My word was law.
He sketched a salute before taking off down the hallway at a dead run.

I exhaled, shoulders slumping once he was out of sight. I really hated this façade.

-Inspiration from listening to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2. Where Snape is Headmaster of Hogwarts

Saved by the Boy

The fires around the room had dimmed to bare inch flames, crackling in their troughs, when they found the boy. He lay sprawled across the steps, at first appearing dead with all the blood around.
But as they approached, they saw that he still breathed. Breathed, where others did not. Mounds of clothes surrounded him, covered in ash, with no sign of bodies.
Only he, remained. But how? What had been done?
The old man knelt by the boy, examining the red stone held tightly in his hand.
"It's safe." He said, just audible to the others. "He saved it." The stone that could have ruined everything if it had fallen into the wrong hands. Saved. By a boy. A boy that no one had looked twice at. Who many had believed would fail if brought into such a challenge. This boy, had stepped up to that challenge, and won.
"Get him to the medical suite. He needs attention." The old man said, pocketing the red stone. It would need to be put in a safer spot to ensure this didn't happen again.

-Inspiration from watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Losing Side

The ball soared through the goal posts, and with it, my dreams of winning the championship. It had been my last year to win the big trophy. To prove to myself that I could accomplish my goals. But that dream plummeted to the ground as quickly as gravity took the ball back to the ground. Smashed. Ruined. All I had worked for, for the last six years...come to nothing.
The feeling only worsened as the crowd roared in triumph at the Jay's win. As they rushed the field, as the Blue and White confetti rained down upon us.
This should have been my moment. My day.
But from the beginning we had been out maneuvered, both on our offensive tactics and the defensive.
Tried as we had....we'd been utterly trounced. Us. The Rams. Favored to win from the beginning. Yet favor had forgotten us when it counted most.

I numbly moved forward, towards my celebrating opponents. Forcing a smile on my face. If my mother had drummed into my head anything, it was to take a loss with dignity. I pushed through to their Pointer. My idol Jimmy Hallens. "Good game man. Congrats." I said working to make my smile genuine. It wasn't like he needed another win, Mr. 43 Trophies. Now 44.
He took my offered hand, shaking it hard, greeting my smile with his own. "Thanks. Good game to you to, Bryce." he said.
That took me aback. I hadn't realized he knew my name. It was the first time I'd spoken to him. I nodded and let go, turning away through the see of blue and white. To join my own teammates as they left the field.

*****
My hometown looked like a Ghost Town, as I stepped out of the Taxi, my dufflebag slung over my shoulders. At any moment I expected a tumbleweed to tumble across the road. I kept my head lowered, and escaped quickly into my apt building. If I had thought loosing on the field was bad, coming home to a empty town was worse. There should have been celebrations, congratulations, parties, parades. Instead. Nothing. It made the empty dream I had all the more empty.

*****
I frowned at the padded envelope. What was this?
I tore it open and dumped out the contents into my hand.
I blinked in surprise, seeing the Blue and Gold ring. I frowned, sitting on my bed, pulling out the letter that was included.
"To the MVP player of the Game. Congratulations on a Game Well Played."
I flipped open the last portion of the letter, and my eyes bugged out at the check also included. "What in the world?" I muttered. If someone was going through the lengths to butter me up....well, they were succeeding. MVP? Hardly. That title once again belonged to Jimmy Hallens. It must have been a mix up.

-Inspiration from watching the Superbowl.

Tossed Away and Forgotten

'Nothing comes back from the dump.'
My Grandfather's voice whispered in my head, as I jerked awake, coughing, struggling to breathe.
I couldn't see, my back ached like I'd pulled it apart, and then taken a stake to sew it back together again.
'Nothing comes back from the dump.'
I struggled in the darkness, fighting for movement. Pushing cold metal like things out of my way. I was soon rewarded, a strand of sunlight filtered through to my left. Desperate to free myself, I clawed my way towards that light. Freedom. Come on. I could do it. Freedom.
'Nothing comes back from the dump.'
I pulled myself free, sprawling on top of a heap of wires and other assorted framework pieces, gasping in as fresh of air as I could. The place smelt of rotting meat and burnt leather. 
'Nothing comes back from the dump.'
They were wrong. My grandfather would be wrong. I wouldn't die here. Not like this. Not after being subjected to the torture I had gone through.
I pushed myself up onto hands and knees, blinking the black spots from my vision.
I would survive the dump. The doctors may have considered my a lost cause in their quest for a more perfect being, but I would prove them wrong.  

-Inspiration from movie Inside Out where it was said "Nothing comes back from the dump."

A Serenade For You?

I had no idea who it could be, at the door. I hadn't been expecting anybody to come. My roommates were all out on dates, and I'd just settled down in front of the TV, snuggled up in a blanket to watch my favorite crime show. Why anyone would be knocking on my door....
I got up, and went to the door, and opened it. "Hello?" I said, surprised to see four guys standing in front of my door.
I couldn't get much more else out, because I realized that my crush was standing there. Smiling at me. It made it hard to remember to breathe, let alone speak.
He flashed a brilliant smile at me, and looked to his friends. "Ready?" They nodded.
Ready for what?
They opened their mouths, and I felt like I'd been transferred to heaven. They were singing to me! Serenading me! I'd always wanted that to happen to me and it was.
They finished. My crush looked to me. "Do you think that will work?"
I blinked, not sure what he was meaning. "W-work?" I stammered.
He grinned, taking it as confirmation. "Thanks. You've been a great help!" He turned away and moved down to the my neighbor's door in the hallway with his buddies. Leaving me standing there.
Alone.

My smile faded as I slowly shut the door, as I heard him start up the song, this time using my neighbor's Brittany's name in the song. Listening to him asking her out. My crush. Asking out another girl. Spurning me, for another.

I hadn't had been having a hard day before, but now...I returned to my couch, and pulled the blanket over my head, curling up as tightly as I could, tears blurring my vision.
How. Could. He?
How could I?
It was so stupid of me to have thought he would have had any interest in asking me out. I mean, I hadn't even spoken to him before tonight. I didn't even know if he knew who I was. But to have him do that to me. To raise my hopes and my dreams only to crush them right in front of me?

I jerked as again there was a knock on the door. I stared at it with loathing. Oh no, I'd already had my heart crushed once today. I didn't need it to happen a second time in a ten minute period.

The person on the other side knocked again. Ten seconds later they added the doorbell to the knock. I groaned, brushing the palm of my hand roughly over my eyes. It wasn't like I couldn't pretend to not be home.
I pulled open the door a crack, not willing to expose myself to more ridicule. "What?" I asked roughly.
It was one of my crush's friends. What was his name? Billy? Bobby? Rob? Yah. That was it Robert.

He peered in at me, his freckled face apologetic. "Hey, Val...."
That was a surprise. He knew my name. I didn't think anyone knew my name. 'What?" I repeated.
"Umm....can you open the door so I can see you more fully?"
"No. What do you want?" I asked him.
He frowned, running a hand through his ginger hair. "Uh..." he shrugged glancing down the hallway, probably looking for his buddies. "Are you busy?"
Had I looked busy when I'd answered the door earlier?
He answered his own question. "You probably aren't...but I was wondering if you would want to go out for some ice cream....like right now?"
I frowned, pulling the door open a little wider. "Why?"
"Because I felt bad, for doing that to you."
I narrowed my eyes. "I don't need a pity date, Robert." I shut the door.
He knocked again.
"Go away." I called through the door.
"Please, Val." he called back.
"NO."
"I'm just going to stand here all night until you say yes."
"Have fun with that." I locked the door and stormed back to my couch, turning the TV on full volume, ignoring his knocks. Fuming. First my crush now a pity date.

I chewed my lip, as I pulled my hair back, glancing to the door. Why would he say he'd be willing to stay out all night if it was a pity date? He could have just left, calling his conscience clear because he tried.
I switched my shirt to a more flattering top. Calling myself nine times a fool, as I slowly pulled the door open to look outside. It had been over an hour since I slammed the door in his face. I doubted he'd still be there.
Robert looked up with a smile.
I opened the door wider. "you're still here." I couldn't believe it.
"Of course." He took a step closer, looking into my eyes with his bright green ones. "Its not a pity date." He told me.
I shook my head, shutting the door behind me. "Guess we'll see." I told him. If he was stubborn enough to stay out here for an hour...maybe it was more than a pity date.

-Inspiration from roommate telling past roommate experience.

Heart Shaped Box of Chocolate

I glanced at my buddy's in amusement, elbowing him as all the girls in our class filed up to the front. "Stop gawking, you're embarrassing me." I muttered to him.
He elbowed me back. "If you didn't have a heart of stone, you'd realize there are some beautiful girls up there."
I shook my head. Tony, Tony, Tony. As girl crazy as ever.
The speaker of the pack of girls, stepped forward, a smile on her face. "From us girls, to you guys." She said in a high pitched voice that I wished I could mute. "We wish to make this Valentine's Day extra sweet."
I rolled my eyes. Cue the candy or something like that. Who else would use Sweet like that?
"And ask you. If you'll be our Valentine today." From behind every smiling girl's back, they pulled out heart shaped boxes of chocolate. I smirked. Called it. Who couldn't have?
The guys all around me, leaned forward in anticipation. Including Tony, who nearly climbed out of his seat. Yah, the girls had gone to the old standby trick. Get to the guy through his stomach.
The girl's spread throughout the room, giggling and smiling to the guys, handing them out their boxes of chocolates.
"Here."
I didn't look to the girl standing to my right. "I'm allergic, I'm afraid."
"Good thing I grabbed the only box of non chocolate treats huh." She remarked, sitting down next to me and taking my arm. "Take it before I shove it in your face." She said in a calm tone, though the grip on my arm belied that mask.
I looked to her, raising an eyebrow. "Who put a fly in your soup?"
She smiled sweetly, though there was nothing sweet about the daggers her eyes were driving into me. "The spider of course, everyone knows that." She put the box of 'non chocolates' in my hands and stood. "Happy Valentine's day." She said with a jerk of her head and slipped through the door in the blink of an eye.
"Wow" Tony said elbowing me. "Just your luck to get Sourpuss."
I frowned, jerking my eyes away from the door. "Apparently. What's up with her?"
"Who knows. She's not a fan of anybody from what I can tell." Tony said, gleefully digging into his box of chocolates, stuffing three of them into his mouth before he used his hand to wave to the girls as they filed out. "Thanks!" He called out to them. Winking, at the girl I could only presume was the one who gave him his box.
She blushed, and wave shyly back, before darting giggling out of the room.

-Inspiration from Church. All the girls giving the guys frosted sugar cookies for Valentine's Day.

Drive to Survive

I held the babe in my arms, hand pressed against her stomach. I looked to my partner. "We can't wait for an ambulance." I told him. It was only my hand stopping her from continuing to bleed. If we waited any longer....who knew if she'd survive it to the hospital.
He didn't hesitate. "Let's go."
I stumbled through the rubble of what had been a building, doing my best to keep the baby stable as I followed my partner out into open air.
We ran to our patrol car.
"Hold on baby." I mumbled to her. "Help is coming."
We screeched away from the destruction, Hansen flicking the sirens on, their mournful wail blaring in our ears as we raced to the hospital.
"Patrol 39 coming in Hot to Bangater's Hospital." Hansen said into the radio. "We have an injured babe, gash along the stomach, bleeding freely."
"Roger that 39."

*****

"Officers Hansen, and Davis?"
I looked up. "Yes."
The nurse beckoned to us. "I thought you'd like to see her first." She said with a smile. "She just got out of surgery, but the baby seems to be doing fine."
I jumped to my feet. "I'd love to see her."
Hansen nodded. "Sure, that would be nice." He got to his feet more slowly. I couldn't understand why he wasn't trying to rush into the operating room. I mean, we'd just saved a life! The doctors had said if we'd waited for an ambulance this little baby wouldn't have made it. It was thanks to us that she now had a future.

*****

"What's going to happen to her?" I asked, staring down at her sleeping form.
"We're not sure, it appears that her family all perished in the collapse. We're seeing if there are any relatives still alive now."
"Well....if she needs a home....I'm willing to take her." How could I not be willing? I'd saved her life, I had a vested interest that she grew up to have a bright future.

-Inspiration from Article where officers ignored protocol and took a baby who'd been shot in a drive by shooting to a hospital.

Red VS Blue

"I don't even own anything red." I muttered, staring at my mostly blue clothes. Why would I wear red at all when I was Team Blue through and through? I ran a hand through my hair. It was supposed to be a red day. To support the local college that most of my classmates would be going to once they graduated.
But that had never been my college of choice. My family may not have always worn blue, but it certainly had never worn red.
"Screw it." I muttered, and grabbed my favorite college shirt. I may be committing social suicide doing this, but there was no way I was going to wear red. Might as well make a statement about it.

*****

My confidence withered dramatically when I stepped out of my car and saw the mass of red students in front of me. It looked nearly like a sea of blood. I didn't see another blue shirt in sight. I groaned silently. Oh yah, this was social suicide. Keeping my face as neutral as possible, I shrugged my backpack onto my shoulder and headed to class. I couldn't ignore the stares and whispers that followed me throughout the hallways and into my classes.
"Did you forget what day it is, Michael?" My friend Tom hissed to me, as I sat down in our English class. He'd gone the extra mile with the red today. He looked like a walking billboard for the college.
"No, though you obviously remember that I don't own anything red."
"You could have bought something!"
I shrugged. "I could have, but why? It's not like I'm going there."
'Because you stick out like a sore thumb you idiot."
"So be it." I said flipping open my notebook as the teacher started class.

*****

"Dude!" Tom shoved his phone in my face.
I pushed it away with annoyance. "Trying to do homework here, Tom."
"But Look! You're famous!"
"Famously an outcast?" I already knew that from my stint a few days ago wearing blue.
"No! Famous! Read! See, you're going viral."
I exhaled and grabbed his phone, scrolling down the screen.
As I scrolled down, my eyebrows climbed. "They can't be serious."
My picture was all over. Well, not just of me, it was a picture they'd taken at the assembly we'd been forced to go to. Everyone was in red, except me. Everyone was throwing up the Red's symbol. Except me. Guess who was center in the picture. Yah, me.
"Wow." I managed, tossing his phone back to him. "They have an awful photographer to catch the only guy in blue there."
"Or an amazing one, do you see who's all commented! The Coach of the Football team called you amazing!"
"You're kidding." I reached for his phone. He wasn't. "He....he wants me to come to the next game." I said slowly.
"Dude!" He hit my shoulder, "You're going to the big game!"

*****

"There he is! Michael!" Coach Simmons called out with a wave. "Welcome home, kid."
I grinned, "It's good to be here, sir." I said.

Who knew that one act of rebellion would get me so much recognition, so much support from the school I'd always dreamed of going to. And now...now it looked like I would get the chance to.

-Inspiration from Article about one kid wearing a blue college shirt while everyone else wore a red one, and ended up being able to go to one of the games.

 

Stood Up

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying unsuccessfully to still my pounding heart as I approached the customer.
"Can I help you sir?" I asked, proud that my voice didn't crack. I'd seen him before, multiple times in the store, but every interaction between the two of us had ended up with me feeling the fool. It didn't help that he was so handsome, so kind, his bright blue eyes were easy to get lost in. To the point where I would forget my words.
He smirked, placing the thing he was looking at back on the shelf. "Well, it's about time you showed up."
I think my heart skipped a beat. Me? Show up? Quickly I dismissed that he actually meant me, though my mouth spoke before I had finished processing. "It's not my fault you didn't tell me the time." I said, managing a smile to hide my shock. What was I saying!
"How am I supposed to tell you the time when you're not here for me to get a time you're here at?" He asked, turning more fully to me.
Obviously he was playing with me. Obviously. Just chatting. I told myself. We're just chatting. "Well, last time I saw you, I told you when I'd be here." It wasn't like my work schedule shifted that much around. "You were the one to not show up."
He grinned, eyes alight with humor.
"Well, I thought we were meeting up at the coffee shop."
I raised my eyebrows. "I don't like coffee."
"Oh?"
"Yah, I hate the stuff."
"Well, maybe it was a soda then."
I considered, giving a slight nod. "I suppose."
"You totally stood me up."
"I must have lost that text message...." Like I even had his phone number, or he had mine. He'd only called the store once before that I was aware of.
It was his turn to nod. "Yah....I waited there for you for a while."
A while huh? "Oh? How long?"
He shrugged, "Like 12-15 hours."
I stared at him. At least I knew it wasn't serious this conversation. Because that was dedication if it had actually happened. "That's a long time to wait."
He exhaled half turning away. "Yah...I was very hopeful, you see."
I brushed the hair from my face. "Well, next time hopefully I won't stand you up." I offered him a smile. "Until then, is there anything I can help you with?"
He glanced down the aisle behind me, then behind him and took a step forward, closer to me. "Do you have any plans tomorrow night?"
"I? Uh....no?" I stammered.
He grinned and nodded. "Great, I'll pick you up from here at six."
"You're....serious?"
"Yah. Just don't get lost on the way here okay?" He winked, and moved past me, out the door before I could pick up my thought process enough to respond.

-Inspiration from Customer Conversation. (no actual date was set.)

Saving Lives

"Don't turn left." My male passenger said suddenly to me.
I jumped, startled, he'd been so quiet since he'd told me his destination, I'd nearly forgotten that he was there. I turned back to him. "It's the quickest way."
His eyes were wide, showing mostly whites as he stared towards the ocean on our left. "Don't turn left." He said again.
Please don't tell me that I'd just picked up another drug addict. "It's the quickest way sir, unless you're willing to pay more for the other route."
"It's not quicker." He whispered turning his attention to me. "Death awaits. Don't go to meet it."
Death? I glanced back at him keeping most of my attention on the road. "What are you talking about?"
His hand touched my shoulder, cold as ice. "Do not go left if you want to live." He told me fiercely. "Death awaits." He repeated it again, in a whisper that sent chills up my spine. "Death awaits."
The weight of his hand vanished from my shoulder as I paused at the red light. At the crossroads. I turned back to him. But no one sat behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
I hit the gas and fishtailed to the right. If a ghost told me to not go left, then as sure as the sun rose in the east was I not going to turn left!

-Inspiration from Article about Cabbies in Japan picking up Ghost Passengers from 2011 Tsunami

Out of the Depths

"Have I died?" She asked in a trembling voice, looking about her. It had only felt like minutes since she'd last closed her eyes. Yet everything looked so different, she didn't recognize anything in this place she'd called home.
The man turned to look back at her. "That depends, sweetheart." He said in a low tone. "Do you want to remain dead?"
Remain. Dead? She was DEAD! She didn't feel dead! "I'm not dead." She whispered.
He shook his head. "You are for now."
"No I'm not!" Her voice rose shrilly. "I can't be! I have so many--!" She cut off sobbing. She didn't know what she had many off, her memory was so foggy. She shouldn't be dead yet. She was meant for more.
"You're meant for more than wandering around lost, little one." The man said holding out his hand to hers. "Let me help you."
"Help me how?" She whispered brushing at her cheeks though they were not wet.
"Find you a new purpose." He said calmly, hand still outreached. "Your sort always get a second chance. If you choose to take it."
A second chance? "Will it hurt?" She asked holding her hand to her chest. Staring at his outreached one.
"Maybe a bit worse than how you died." He admitted after a minute.
She shivered. Died. She couldn't be dead! Yet she vaguely remembered being slammed into from behind like a bulldozer ramming her over and squishing her flat. How could it be worse than that?
"I don't have all day, little one. You need to choose."
"Choose life?"
He nodded. "A second chance. You were taken too soon."
She bit her lip, fingers twitching. There had to be a catch. But she desperately wanted to end this nightmare. She wasn't dead! She reached out and grabbed his hand.
He smiled, his hand warm on hers. For the first time she could feel another's hand again! "Welcome back child." He said, squeezing hers tightly. He suddenly stepped forward, a flash of metal darting into her chest.
She screamed, her face of hope twisting into agony as she convulsed.
"I told you...it would hurt worse." His voice drifted past her, as the warmth of his hand faded from hers.
She struggled, eyes dimming, trying to find what pierced her heart. Her hands closed around...nothing. She fell to her knees. Bruising them against the rocky beach front. She coughed, spewing out sea water from her burning lungs.
Water flowed around her, terror rose with it, and with legs that moved like lead, she splashed her way further up onto the beach, collapsing just out of range of the crashing waves that had brought her out of its depths.

-Inspiration from Article about Cabbies in Japan picking up Ghost Passengers from the 2011 Tsunami.

Pop Pop Kernal

"It looks like someone made popcorn."
I blinked in surprise, glancing at the few kernals left in the bowl. "Yah, I made it last night."
She smiled in understanding. "Ah, after I went to bed right?"
I stared at her, not sure if she was serious or not. "No...I made it during the movie, Ray. The one we all were watching together."
It was her turn to stare at me in confusion. "You did?"
"Yah, you were sitting right there."
She rubbed a temple, frowning. "Oh..." She shrugged and smiled. "I guess I was so into the movie I didn't notice."
I smiled back, trying to hide my worry. I could understand how she could not notice me eating popcorn last night, but could she be so engrossed in the movie that she couldn't smell it permeating the room? Everyone else had noticed. "Understandable. It was rather intense wasn't it?"
"I'll say. The song the Bride sang? Totally nightmare worthy."
"Totally was. It's been stuck in my head all day." Was Ray alright? She'd been acting a little off the past couple of days. Had something happened that she wasn't telling us about?
"Yah...." her eyes unfocused briefly and she shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck. "Next time you make popcorn, be sure to give me some alright?"
"Alright...." Strange...I'd thought she didn't like popcorn....

-Inspiration from Movie Night with Roommates

Let it Snow

Glee flowed freely through me as I stared at the raging storm outside.
Snow.
The weather shouldn't make me this happy, yet I couldn't help but laugh softly to myself, watching the big swirling flakes tumble to the ground like a white waterfall. Covering everything in its path nearly instantaneously.
I slid open the balcony door, and stepped outside, barefoot, onto the thin dusting already on the patio, luxuriating in the cold that spread through me.
Oh, how I'd missed this.
The heat of this wretched place had held me down for far too long.
I leaned against the railing, feeling the cold breeze on my skin, the snow melting along my arms, my feet tingling in the slush around me.
This. This was freedom.
The snow brought freedom. An escape into a world all to my own with barely another soul in sight.
I glanced behind me. To the lighted room awaiting me. Trying to lure me back into its depths with its grasping arms of heat.
Ha.
It didn't understand that, no matter how much I hid it from the others.
I would always be a Child of Winter.

-Inspiration from Snow Storm

Death in the Air

Maybe I was still sick. Nobody else in the store seemed to smell the scent of death in the area. I'd known that I was still recovering, that my nose had been more sensitive to smells. But seriously, it couldn't be that sensitive could it? Maybe it could.
I kept my thoughts to myself, as I returned to scooping out the filthy tank water from the turtle display. Just this last bit of work and I could finally go on break.
Or not.
I noticed it then,
One of the turtles not moving around like all the others. Those ones getting in the way of my attempts to scoop out their water.
My heart sank.
Oh no, not another one. This had to be the fourth turtle in a month to perish.
Carefully I picked up the turtle, pleading silently that I be wrong.
He came out of the water without a struggle, legs dangling limply from out of the shell. But the head didn't follow suit.
A spark of hope.
Maybe...with his head tucked into his shell like that, I was wrong. Perhaps he was just a really mellow turtle.
I wiggled him, watching his legs flop around. I touched the tip of his nose. No reaction. No movement beyond my own.
I bit the inside of my lip. Please. Please.
But without him being responsive it didn't look good.
There was only one way to know for sure, I braced myself, and leaned in and inhaled.

Immediately I turned away, retching.
Shoot.
That smell was unmistakably the stench of death.
Another one had bit the dust.


-Inspiration from cleaning reptile cages at work.

Lurking Behind

I could feel her behind me. Eyes staring into my back, waiting for me to take notice of her.
Automatically my muscles tensed as I kept my head down, giving my entire attention to the PB&J I was making. I could have finished making it ages ago. But I took my time. Ensuring that the peanut butter was spread evenly, that the jam wasn't so thick it would drip out onto my hands as I ate it.
And still she stood there, silently behind me.
Maybe I was thinking too much into it, but with how tense I was growing, how could I be? Why did I always have to be the one to speak first? What was she waiting for.
There was only so long I could stand there and make a sandwich. I methodically washed the knife off, setting it on the edge of the sink for a potential reuse, though with how my stomach twisted already, I doubted I would get to a second sandwich, if I even managed to finish the first. 
I put the sandwich in my mouth, and turned.
She smiled at me, eyes glinting.
"Hey."
I swallowed. "Hey." I said taking another bite. Waiting. Feeling like a fly caught in a web. She couldn't have stood there for the past eight minutes just to say one word to me. But then again, she wasn't a person of many words.

-Inspiration from Roommates