Needle

(This is an older thing of mine, but I still like it.)

The last customer left the shop, the small bell letting out a high ding as the door closed. I sighed in relief, dropping my hands to my sides. Thank goodness, the day was finally over. Mercy bustled around the kitchen as I left the counter and went to help her close up. Flour was everywhere, covering pots, pans and most importantly, Mercy herself. Mercy’s red hair was clinging to her forehead, her green apron only visible under the dough and icing.

“Will you make sure these dishes are cleaned?” She begged, grabbing her coat and getting flour all over the black velvet. “They won’t want to clean them in the morning.”

“Yes, I promise,” I assured her, my eyes rolling. The bakery was Mercy’s heart and soul. The thought of leaving me here alone scared her to death. What if I broke something?

“Just. . . Don’t forget to lock up.”

“I won’t.”

“And don’t forget. . .”

“Mercy! Go home.” She threw me an insulted glare before glancing around the shop one more time nervously. Only a few short steps brought me to her side and allowed me to grip her shoulder. I pushed her around and opened the back door one handed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but will my bakery?” she grumbled. I laughed and shoved her through the door. She spun around, opening her mouth to continue the argument. I snapped the door shut, shoving the dead bolt home. The lights flickered above me sending little spidery shadows all along the walls.

Finally! I hummed a little as I went about my work, putting the finishing touches on a few pastries as I closed up. It was dark outside, nearly one A.M. and I couldn’t wait to be able to go home. It had been a hectic day, no less then 12 orders of cinnamon rolls had come in during my shift alone. That was nearly twice the amount we normally received!

I plunged the roller into the steaming, soapy water, pushing against the clinging dough with impatient fingers. My bed was waiting and when I got there I wouldn’t leave until noon. The water felt good against my skin, warm and steamy. I could feel the sweat on my brow, but didn’t mind it so much as my hands transferred dish after dish from one sink to another. My eyes burned with the effort of keeping them open, my work turning to autopilot as my mind drifted.

I just couldn’t wait to go home to my warm bed. My pillows were soft and clean, my blankets would wrap around me and be my sails as I was taken from harsh reality into the warm comforts of. . .

Something very cold touched the back of my head. It wormed its way into my hair, shifting through the thin strands like a snake. Screaming, I whirled around, my hands jumping to my hair in panic. It was gone, ripping a few of the strands along with it. For a moment, I didn’t move. Just stared around the kitchen. It looked just like normal, the big black oven to my left with a preparatory counter off to the side. Great silvery cabinets adorning the walls.

My hand rubbed the sore spot gently as I turned back to the sinks. The lights above me flickered unsteadily. Calm down Natalie, I ordered myself, taking deep breaths. It had probably just been my hair getting caught on one of the drying utensils above my head. My heart beat slowed down to a more normal pace allowing my breaths to come easier. It was nothing, don’t be stupid.

It didn’t feel like nothing though, I could still imagine the cold hand wrapping around my hair. Touching me. . . I shoved the thoughts from my mind, grabbing a bowl and shoving it into the water with unnecessary force. Water slopped all up the sides and stained my apron, showering my shoes. I held my breath in anger, trying to calm down. It was stupid, it wasn’t like I had never closed up shop before.

[I]But never alone,[/I] a snide voice whispered in the back of my mind. I ignored it and went to grab the mop. The thing was so old bits of fiber were missing from the bundle. I gripped the rough worn handle comfortingly, as I pulled it back, a small piece of mirror fell from the shelf it had been leaning on. I tried to grab it before it hit the ground but it slipped through my fingers, shattering against the cold linoleum floor.

“That’s bad luck,” something whispered. Tell me about it, I thought. I dropped the mop and grabbed the broom instead. My heart was pounding again, sending the blood rushing through my veins. Thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump. Skittering sounded off to my right and I almost dropped the broom.

“Please,” I begged, “Don’t let it be rats.” Mercy would never forgive me if she found out there were rats in her store.

“Natalie. . .” something whispered, it’s voice was oily and smooth, goose bumps erupted all along my skin, my heart pounding ferociously.

“Shut up!” I yelled, it echoed around the store, bouncing off the silver surfaces. I felt stupid. It wasn’t real, I was just freaking myself out. I leaned my head against the broomsticks handle. Closing my eyes and breathing deeply. I was being stupid. It wasn’t real. I was just freaking out.

Now open your eyes, and just get back to work, I commanded, slowly peeling the lids back.

The mirror hung on the wall opposite me, completely full and unblemished. My fingers gripped the broom tighter. My mouth going dry. My eyes darted to the ground, where the shards of broken glass had just been scattered. There was nothing. I raised my eyes back to the mirror. My arms shaking.

The face looking back at me was distorted, strangled and thin, with dead sunken in cheeks and black lifeless eyes.

I touched my own face with shaking fingers, probing the skin. It felt the same. The mirror laughed at me, making no noise. She placed a long, white finger to her lips; motioning for me to be quiet, then pointed toward the walls.

She laughed again when I turned to gaze at them, when I looked back she was gone.

Nothing could hurt me here, it was all in my head, it was just a fake, unbelievable. . .

“Natalie,” My head jerked up, the voice coming from above me, “Naatalieee. . .” it called, soothing and quiet. It was a woman’s voice. “Please come upstairs.”

“Who. . . Who are you?”

“Please come upstairs Natalie, we don’t want to hurt you.” a snickering, high pitched giggle sounded from beneath me. I jumped backwards, straining to see clearly as the lights flickered above me. Something cold and clammy touched my bare leg. “Please come upstairs.”

The lights flickered faster, making my eyes stream water. I gasped and tried to rub them clear, but when I opened them again the kitchen was dark. Something sharp scraped against my shin, making me scream and jump into the air. Another high pitched giggle sounded. I ran, running from the supply closet in blind panic. My foot caught on the edge of something, causing me to sprawl to the ground, smashing my head against the cold, metal floor.

It giggled as it let go of my ankle.

“Natalie,” the voice whispered, its breath ruffling my hair “Oh Natalie. . . “

I pulled away, curling into a ball and clutching my bleeding leg. A shape was emerging from the darkness, a shape barely larger then a six month old child.

It was white, the skin glowing through the darkness like a beacon. Small little red eyes peered at me from a hairless face. It walked on two legs like a man, but clutched a long, thin needle in one hand. Something dribbled down the creatures mouth, spilling from its pale lips and down its little chin.

“We like you Natalie,” it whispered, “oh beautiful Natalie. . .” it rubbed its sharp needle down the length of my cheeks, caressing it gently. Another giggle sounded from above me and another from the side.

“Oh Natalie,” the voices called, “Sweet Natalie.” I screamed as they plunged their needles toward my heart.

***

When I awoke, I laid upon the flat, hard surface. My insides quivering uncontrollably. Cold seeped up through my clothing, attaching itself to the bumpy pieces of my goose pimpled skin. I couldn’t see, the night pressed in upon me, suffocating. I was stuck, my limbs iced over in cold My eyes frozen in their sockets.

I strained my muscles, trying to force them to move, but they remained stiff and immobile at my sides.

Thump.

I tried to breathe, tried to let the air flow through my lungs. Nothing happened.

Thump.

Memories of pale skin and sharp needles piercing through me, I was dead. They had killed me!

Thump. . .thump.

Something hit the roof above me. My finger twitched.

Thump. . .thump. .thump.

Slowly, painstakingly, my eyes began to shift. Becoming looser and slipperier in my sockets. They shifted, trying to pierce through the thick layer of darkness around me.

Thump.

The wood above me creaked, a small stream of dust falling on my lips.

Thump.

More dirt.

Thump, thump, thump.

A Thieving Child

“Zarin, what are you doing?” Kelly knelt down in the sand next to her older brother. She was trying to be careful and not get her new white, Sunday dress all ruined. Zarin looked back and smiled at her, his grin mischievous.

“See that ball?” he whispered, pointing to the round rubber ball that was next to a chubby ten year old licking a chocolate popsicle. The chocolate was all over his chin and cheeks, his grubby fingers getting the mess all over his beautiful red and gold ball. Kelly nodded, tilting her head to the side. Zarin didn't seem to care that his brand new church suit was getting covered in wet sand and ripping from the rose bush that he was hiding behind. She pulled on his sleeve.

“Zarin no! Don't you remember what Daddy said?” She tugged insistently, but he shrugged her off.

“Look at it Kelly!” he whispered in excitement, hardly even noticing the girl pulling on his arm, “isn't it so pretty?”

“Zarin! Daddy said no more! He said if you do it again. . .”

“Dad doesn't have to know everything,” Zarin snapped, pulling his arm free, “Go bug someone else Kelly.”

“I'll tell!” Kelly stood up, her little hands balled into fists on her hips, “I promise I will!” Zarin grabbed her and pushed her down into the dirt, smearing it all over her dress. Tears rose to her eyes and she tried to roll away from him but he held her there.

“No you won't,” Zarin hissed angrily, “You won't because if you do I will put bubble gum all in your hair and then make mom cut it all off!” The tears overflowed and she pushed him with all her strength. Zarin moved away from her and looked through the bushes once more. “It's only a little ball, Kelly,” He said, almost apologetically.

“Daddy said no,” Kelly murmured angrily under her breath, sitting with her back to him. Zarin frowned and sat down behind her, pulling her into his lap the way he used to when she was a baby and gave her a hug, for a moment she squirmed, then she stopped and hugged him back.

“If I get it, then you can have it,” he promised, “I know Mitch popped your last one.” Kelly sniffled into his shirt, Zarin smiled and patted her head. “See? Everything's going to be fine.”

“Dad said someday you'll go to jail,” Kelly whimpered.

“Dad's wrong,” Zarin said harshly, “Do you. . .” he shook his head, changing his mind on what he was going to say, “Dad can't lock me up anymore.”

“Okay,” Kelly sniffed and Zarin hugged her again.

“You're so little,” he told her, almost giggling-but Zarin was too old to giggle now. “Like a little doll.” Kelly stuck her tongue out at him.

“Just go get me the ball Zarin Clyde,” she ordered, pointing with her little fingers. Zarin mock saluted her then put her down on the grass instead of the dirt.

“Be right back!” he promised.

Kelly waited.

Zarin snuck on his belly, keeping his head low to the ground as he crawled like a spider to where the older boy was sitting. If he happened to hear anything then Zarin's cover would be blown and he'd be in big trouble. Big kids didn't approve of little kids sneaking up on them.

Zarin grit his teeth, digging his hands into the soft grass. Well, he wasn't a little kid anymore. He was big now too. He could try to beat him up, but Zarin would win. Just because he wanted to. That's the way it worked.

Like him wanting that ball. He wanted it, so he would have it.

The little boy grinned, pulling himself closer and closer to the edge of the park to where the boy was still sloppily eating. He wouldn't see him. Don't see me, Zarin thought to himself, creeping slowly forward, please don't see me. I'm not here, you're eating a popsicle and enjoying it. Don't see me. I'm not here. . .

He was only a few feet away now. . . just a few more seconds. . .
* * *

“Zarin!” Kelly yelped in surprise when her brother came back, he was walking with pride, his back straight and his head held up. There was a little red and gold ball tucked under his arm and a look of absolute satisfaction upon his young face.

And a great big bloodied gash across his cheek and a swelling black eye.

“What happened?” Kelly cried, running over to him. He handed her the ball.

“I didn't look behind me,” Zarin said happily, lounging on the damp grass. “Turns out usually big kids have friends.”

“What did you do?”

“I took it anyway. Turns out big kids aren't nearly as tough as they think they are either.”

Run

“Just run. And keep running, until you can never, ever come back.”

I ran. The wind blew in my ears, the rain stained my cheeks, but still I ran. It was so dark that night. The stars weren't shining, the street lamps weren't turned on. I could only run, and run quickly.

My heart was beating in my chest. Ka-boom, Ka-boom, Ka-boom, reminding me with each step that I had to go faster. Be stronger. Live longer.

Run.

I didn't want to run. I wanted to turn back, to face it. To live with it. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted. . . so many things. But I couldn't have them. I could never have them.

I just had to run.

Go. Go. Go.

Run, flee, be quick.

They couldn't hold me down. They couldn't stop me. Nobody could. Nobody can. I'll run until I'm ready to turn back. I'll run until the strength fills my bones, my muscles. Until they can't defeat me.

Monsters seem to be coming at me from all sides. They face me and grow, pushing in, snarling and trying to catch me unaware. But I can't fight them right now. I can't face them. I'm not strong enough.

Run! Please!

I push my muscles faster, push the legs until they burn. They can't stop me. They can't defeat me. They can't crush me.

Not if I'm running.

And while I run; my muscles build strength. My pumping arms becoming stronger, my legs become faster and harder. As I run, I begin to grow.

My running sparks growth. My growth sparks strength. And my strength sparks courage.

So, yes. You think you have me defeated. You think you have me scared and fleeing. You think that I'm finished.

But I'm not.

I never will be.

But until I'm ready, I'll continue to run.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom:

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I didn't do what I knew I should have. I should have come to you and told you everything. I should have let you know what was going on. But I didn't. And now this is the result. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

But I just can't do this anymore. When your entire world turns upside down and you can't see anything straight, when the world changes from black and white to something different, something that defies even gray. . .something that changes everything. Well, I can't live like this. I won't do it. I refuse to do it. And maybe that makes me a coward. But at this point I no longer care

So I'm sorry.

I know I sound like a whinny teenage girl. I'm only thirteen years old. The world is so much bigger than the things that are going on right now. And maybe you're right. In fact, I know that you're right. But I also know that what I'm feeling now, the things that are going through my head, the things that I feel, they aren't fake. They're real. It's real things Mom, real issues. Just because you don't want to understand, or just because you don't understand why they're such a big deal, doesn't mean that they aren't real to me.

Because they are.

I hate me, Mom. I hate me; what I've become and what I represent. Everyone says that teenagers make a big deal about nothing. That our issues will eventually go away. Once we grow up.

Once we grow up.

Is that what you thought too Mom? Did you think it would get better once I grew up?

Well, I'm not going to grow up. It's not going to happen anymore because I can't do this. I can't think like this. You say it will get better, you say this is a brief moment, but you do it as you look at me worriedly. You don't know what's really going on.

I should have told you.

I want you to know that I wanted. . . I want to tell you. I want to explain everything, tell you what is eating at me, what makes me cry at night. But how can I? How can I tell anyone? I can't lose everything. . .ha. How funny a thing for me to say. I can't lose everything? Aren't I throwing everything away already?

You got scared when I started showing up to breakfast with little white lines on my wrist. You only saw them after they were old, Mom. You didn't know. I didn't want you to know. You never saw them when they were red.

Mom. Mommy, do you know why I used to cut myself? It's a strange feeling. . . being in so much pain but having nothing to show for it. I wish I could explain it in a way that would make you understand. How dare I hurt so much when physically I was perfectly fine? I didn't like it. I wasn't okay with it. So I made myself a reason to be in pain. I gave myself over to it.

I wanted to see blood. I wanted to see the physical evidence that something was wrong. Because I knew that if I didn't. . . if I didn't. . . well then I had no right at all to be hurting. Not if nothing was wrong. Not if it was all in my head. I can't do this any more Mom. I love you. Or at least I think I do. I want to say I'll see you later. But I know I won't.

Because at this point. . . I'm not so sure that I believe in God anymore.
---Tera

My dearest Tera,

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry you didn't think I understood. I'm sorry you didn't realize that I was there. I'm sorry that you didn't want to come to me when you needed me the most. You thought I didn't understand, you thought I didn't care. You thought I was too old, too aged, too misunderstanding. You thought you were the only one to have ever experienced this pain.

I'm sorry I didn't explain. I'm sorry I didn't tell you.

Tera, my darling daughter, did you think that I had never been hurt? Did you think that my life was perfect? You silly girl, you said it yourself that you knew that eventually your world would get better, but you didn't believe it enough to stay. My life was hard too. My life wasn't perfect either.

I know what it's like to want to see blood to explain away my pain.

Why did you leave me Tera? Did you think that I wouldn't be able to comprehend? Did you not want to hurt me too?

Tera, I have experienced the same things you have. The world has gotten tough, the winds have blown and knocked me over more than once, but I always was forced to stand back up. Oh sweetheart, why didn't you trust yourself to continue standing?

I miss you. I love you. Why did you have to leave?

I'm setting this on the gravestone now, beside the picture of your young face. I wonder if you can see it? You said that you'd stopped believing in God.

I wish I could tell you, I wish I could have explained, he was the only one keeping me standing.

I wish I'd taught you to cleave to him too.

I love you,
Mom

Spider

Lynx had never been a rule follower.

His father's fist slammed against the table, splintering the carved wood around the beefy hand, “Why, Lynx?” he shouted, “You had no business reading the Leader's handbook!” spittle flew from the old man's lips, striking Lynx in the face. He wiped it off with the sleeve of his tunic, frowning.

“Why's he have to keep secrets?” the boy rubbed his sleeve against the side of the table, “Why does he get to know things we don't?”

“Because he's our HIGH LEADER!” his father bellowed.

“Wolf. . .” Lynx's mother walked into the kitchen, her brow was furrowed and wet, her damp red hair hanging in her face. She was pretty for an older lady, though it was obvious she was old. Her once ruby red hair was growing gray, and her face was lined with streaks; most of which had been caused by her rebellious son.

Wolf turned toward his wife, Lark, and shook his head. His big shoulders slumped as he closed his eyes wearily, “Why do you do it boy? Don't you realize what this means?”

“I do it because. . .” Lynx faltered, but his father didn't stop.

“You're going to be punished son. Punished, and punished severely.” Wolf raised his eyes to meet Lynx's, but the boy only raised his gaze higher. His back straightened and he stood as tall as any fourteen year old boy could.

“I'm not afraid,” he said stiffly. And he wasn't. Lynx knew that when he broke the rules, he'd be punished. It was something he prided himself on. Breaking the rules was only okay if you were willing to accept the consequences. He'd always been ready. When he'd stolen the bishop's staff, his father had been forced to hold him still while the holy man burned his hands with fire. When he mocked an elder, he'd been forced to swallow a giant grasshopper, alive. And now that he had stolen the High Leader's secret handbook, he'd have to. . .

“They're going to send you into the woods boy,” Wolf whispered harshly, “They'll send you into the woods, and this time you won't come back.”
* * *

The woods were dangerous. Gigantic leafy trees towered into the sky, blocking out nearly all sunlight, but the little that did get through only created shadows on the ground, rather than provide any illumination. In some places, the foliage was so packed together it was impossible to squeeze through the large trunks. In others, the spaces were so wide Lynx couldn't touch either tree even when he stretched out both of his hands.

Lynx had always prided himself on being able to take the punishment offered to him without flinching. He'd always said that he only did things when he was sure he could handle the punishment that would be given because of it.

He'd been wrong.

Lynx could feel his arms and legs shaking. He tried to keep them under control, but they were nearly spasming. The forest wasn't just a place for great oaks and sycamores, it was a place of magic and energy. And of great creatures that would suck out their victims brain and drink they're blood like wine. It was the only rule Lynx hadn't broken: Don't go into the forest.

He'd decided he couldn't handle the punishment that would have offered. Because it would have been death.

And now he was here.

Lynx carefully stepped over a fallen trunk. The mushy, decaying matter squished beneath his toes, and he tried not to gag against the stench. What types of horrible creatures lived here? Creatures that devoured and munched on poor unsuspecting victims. How many herds had the village lost to the Spiders alone?

The Spiders. . . Those were the creatures to fear. Lynx didn't dare close his eyes as he scanned the tree tops and the middle ground, looking for the great bulk that would reveal the monsters. Spiders were gigantic versions of the smaller kind. They could range from the size of a cow to the size of a buffalo. Even the smaller ones could kill you with just a tiny prick of one of their fangs. They were blood thirsty beasts. Just the day before, a group of hunters had gone into the forest looking for meat, and half their members had been taken and eaten by the things.

“Stop it!” Lynx shouted into the trees. He needed to stop thinking like that! If he was going to survive, he needed to. . .

What was that?!

Something moved off in the corner of the boy's vision. He spun, glancing nervously from left to right. What was that? Sweat was beginning to form in the palm of his hands. He tried to stay calm, tried to keep himself from panicking. It was nothing. There was nothing there.

But he was wrong.

A vicious clicking noise sounded from above him. Lynx slowly lifted his head, feeling his entire body begin to shake. And there it was.

It was gigantic. The size of a medium sized house if not larger. The fangs were dripping with saliva and poison. Its many red eyes glaring down at him. Lynx's legs gave out and he fell to the floor. His heart pounding and his mouth going dry. The beast and he looked at each other. Neither moved, neither made a sound.

There was no getting away from a Spider. They were vicious killers, they ate whatever they found no matter what they'd eaten before. Their stomachs were the same as bottomless pits. They had no mercy, not upon children, not upon animals, not upon men. Lynx was going to die.

The spider still didn't move.

Lynx slowly raised his shaking body to its feet. He kept his eyes locked on the Spider, and it twitched. Lynx took a few steps to the side, and the Spider followed him with its gaze. There was no way out. He was going to die. Death, the Spider was gong to suck his bones dry and lick up his fluids! No! He didn't want to die! Please!

It didn't matter. But the Spider still didn't move.

A large carcass was lying off to the side. It looked like a half eaten cow. Lynx tried not to look at the mutilated corpse, but his gaze was repeatedly drawn to it. What if. . . what if Spiders weren't crazy bottomless pit eaters? What if they actually did get full?

Lynx started to move. Slowly, very carefully, he moved with purpose and tried to hug the tight knot of trees to his back, looking for any space that would be big enough for him to squeeze through. He didn't make a sound, hardly seemed to breath as he slowly, slowly tried to sneak away.

The Spider watched him. It watched him with those beady red eyes, but still it didn't move. Lynx noticed something he hadn't before. The belly of the Spider bulged. Its eyes were half closed in contentment, even as it watched the boy move. It was. . .happy. Full.

But Spiders were monsters that never became. . . full.

Maybe there were more to these creatures than Lynx had previously thought.

He reached a niche, squeezing his body into the tiny space, and vanished from the Spider's view. He wasn't out of the woods. He wasn't anywhere safe, and yet. . .

The Spider hadn't killed him, when it so easily could have. The forest was a place of death and darkness. The creatures in it were mindless man eaters, there was no escape. . .

If the villagers had been wrong about one creature, even if it was a rare exception. . .

Well, what else were they wrong about?

Pop

I didn't think it was too big a deal. Just a whole bunch of us put into a fairly large space. We were all clumped together, rolling over each other and trying to find a little pinch of room that we could call our own.

“Where are we going?” I asked my neighbors, a few swiveled to look at me, finding the movement difficult because of how smooshed together we all were.

“This is the end,” she had a thick dark coating, there was nothing else really remarkable about her besides the fact that she was a tad darker than the rest of us.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“There's no way we're going to survive this.” I turned away. She was crazy. The others turned away as well, as though she had some type of infectious disease.

“I don't know,”

“Where are we going?”

“Why are we here?” The questions began to circle around me until soon the entire space was filled with them. I shook myself and looked around. It was just a white space. There was nothing remarkable about it. I was so crushed in with the others, I couldn't even really see the floor.

I smashed into my neighbor when the space suddenly jolted. We all screamed, trying to keep our balance as it shook. “What's happening?!” I yelled.

“It's the end.” The girl whispered. I started to yell at her to shut up, when the shifting rose to a new extreme. Up and down, up and down, we shook and tumbled against each other. Then we all flew to the right as the space jerked away.

Gravity was having a hay day, I couldn't tell which direction we were moving, just try to avoid being crushed by the others around me.

And then it stopped. Just as suddenly as it had started, the space was quiet again. We all shuddered. Trying to stay as close to ground as possible. No one said a word. It wasn't until I started sweating that I began to think that maybe it wasn't over.

“Is it getting. . . Warmer in here?” I whispered. The girl beside me sighed. I didn't know how she had managed to stay there, but she had.

“This is the end.” She said simply. The space began to get warmer and warmer, like a fire. My insides squirmed, growling and rumbling in weird undesirable ways.

“What's going on!” And then everything went totally wrong. There was a sharp POP and one of my neighbors flipped, his insides sprouting through his chest and rearranging themselves to fit in the front. POP POP POP. Others were following. The space expanded as they piled on top of each other, growing and enlarging as more and more were ripped inside out.

POP, POP, POP, POP!

It was so hot, so uncomfortably hot. I was sweating, my insides rumbled and expanded. I tried to hold it in, tried to keep myself from exploding. What was going on?! What had I done to deserve this?!

“Goodbye,” The girl next to me smiled.

“NO!”
***

Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop. The Girl smiled as the smell of butter filled the air, the dinger sounded and she opened the microwave with a smile. Pulling the bag out, she walked to the table and pulled it open. The warm aroma filled her nostrils and she grinned.

“Yum,” she murmured, popping one of the kernals into her mouth, “Hey guys! I've got Popcorn!”

Spawn

I have two minutes to write, fifteen to catch my breath and absolutely zero in which to explain.

Interested yet? You should be.

My name is Rae Sage. I'm fourteen years old, have dirty dark hair chopped short to keep it out of my face, and a baseball cap that's always turned backwards.

Yes, backwards.

A lot of the kids say I don't look like a girl, but I am. I just don't put all that stuff on myself and wear shirts that would reveal how pathetically tiny my bust size is. I wear knee length shorts and a black t-shirt. Always.

But I really don't have time, so I guess it's time to get to the point.

It started Saturday, and it won't ever stop. I was walking toward the school, dragging my feet because I didn't want to go. The kids would make fun of me, even though I kind of freaked them out sometimes. I wasn't unaware of the effect I had on people, but it still hurt sometimes. (I kind of hope nobody will ever read this) I mean you can only pretend to be the tough girl for so long. Anyway, I was walking to school, when this kid grabbed my arm. He was tall, had to be in high school or something.

His eyes were gray and bleak, his expression grim. “Rae,” he said, and I openly stared at him even though it was rude, “You've got to listen to me, go home, put in your headphones, and tell your parents that you're sick.”

“What?” the word just kind of tumbled out of my mouth because it was already open from staring at him.

“Rae, please, just trust me.” He grabbed my hand and tried to pull me back the way I'd come, but I resisted. Who was this guy? I don't trust people on principle, but he scared me more than people did normally. And his touch felt like it burned my skin. “Rae. . .”

“Let go of me!” I yelled, twisting and pushing against his hand. His skin was growing uncomfortably hot, searing into my wrist. I was almost crying because it hurt so bad. When his hand moved a bit, I could see that my wrist was bright red. “What are you doing? Let go!”

“Rae!” He tried to hold me still, but I was twisting like a crazy person. He cursed under his breath, then seemed to realize what he was doing. He let go of me with a gasp and I jerked away, turning and sprinting toward the school. “Raven!” he yelled again, but I wasn't listening. I needed to get to school.

Which turned out to be a pretty lame decision.

When I burst through the front doors, I was already late. A hall monitor glared at me but I ignored them as I sprinted to my first class. My wrist was still burning, but I tried not to pay any attention to the pain. In fact, I tried not to think at all because thinking about the boy made me start to shake. Who was he? What was his problem and how had he burned me? And why did he know my name?

“Thank you for joining us Miss Sage.” my teacher glared disapprovingly down at me and I blushed, ducking my head and rubbing my wrist. The room was white and boring. It was a science room, so it should have been filled with interesting things right? Things like drying animal guts and baby fetuses in jars, but there wasn't anything like that. The only decoration at all was the big table of elements that dominated the back wall. “Miss Sage!”

My head snapped back to the teacher, surprised. Usually she didn't make such a big deal when I came in late. But something was weird today. Her eyes were a funny color, and her lips were pressed together so tightly I was afraid they'd be swallowed.

“Yes?” I didn't mean to sound rude, but I probably did looking back at it. I was a little freaked out okay? That's not unusual when a strange shouts weird things at you.

“You're a little piece of work aren't you?”

“What?”

“You little pest.” her eyes were turning darker and darker, like glowing fireballs. The other kids were staring at her just like I was, but she didn't pay any attention to them. She'd been standing behind her desk in the front of the room, but now she reached across it and dug her long fingernails into the wood, crawling on top of it despite wearing a long old fashioned dress.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled, I didn't mean to, but all of the sudden I was up and moving. Running, running from a teacher! That wasn't allowed, and apparently she knew it.

With a screech, she launched herself at me, knocking me against the wall and pinning my throat between her suddenly razor sharp talons. I screamed and the other kids screamed with me, all running for the exits.

Like I already said, sometimes it's hard to play the tough girl all the time.

“You're Devil Spawn,” she hissed. I tried to squirm but she dug her nails into my skin and I froze, “You belong to me!” Her teeth were long, sharp and pointed. Her breath smelt like dead fish, and I had to work to keep from gagging.

“Let go!” I tried weakly, but my voice was small and squeaky. She laughed, and there was a pulling sensation, like I was about to sink into the ground and melt there. I struggled but she tightened her grip on my neck. “LET GO!”

The voice that came out of my mouth shocked me more than it did her but I acted on it just the same. It was a harsh voice, one that felt like it was full of power. I shoved against her, and this time she let go of me with a scream. My hands and feet were steaming, and so was the front of what used to be my teacher.

Now she was. . . something else. Her overcoat was puffed out in the back, making it look like she had wings, and her face was twisted, like a monster. “I'll kill you,” she hissed, her mouth foaming.

I think I said something real intelligent, like, “EEK!” She launched herself at me again, and I only just barely managed to dodge out of the way. She'd maneuvered herself so that she was between me and the exit. I backed toward the back wall, my heart thumping a million miles a minute. The power that I'd felt just seconds ago seemed to dwindle as I stared into the face of the creature in front of me.

“Who are you?” I whispered, I wasn't going to let myself cry, but I seriously wanted to. And trust me, I don't cry. Crying is when things are so hopeless, there's literally nothing else you can do. I guess this kind of qualified as that type of a situation.

“What do you think I am, spawn?” the monster hissed, slowly advancing toward me.

“Are you going to kill me?” I don't know why I was so intent on talking, maybe it felt like that would buy me time. She smiled, and I cringed back because her canine's were now so long and dripping with a blackish goo that made my stomach squirm.

“We don't eat the flesh of spawn,” she growled. I swallowed, which almost made me throw up, seeing her black spit put serious disgusting images in my head.

“Spawn?” my teeth were clattering. At this point, I had backed up so much that I'd hit the wall, my spine pressed tightly against the barrier. Instead of answering, the monster attacked me again. I threw myself out of the way, smashing into some of the desks and giving myself bruises that I'm sure will make me ache for days.

She jumped onto the wall, her talons sunk into it and holding herself there. I swallowed nervously, but she just snarled. Her fingers were gripping the table of elements poster. Her back foot had ripped the corner. She tried to launch herself at me again, but the poster caught her, holding her in place and then tangling her up as she fell to the ground. I ran. I ran faster than I should have ever been able to run in my entire fairly short life.

I darted through the doorway, running smack dab into the boy from before. My wrist burned angrily at the sight of him, and I tried to push past but he grabbed my shoulders.

“Is she still in there?” he barked, I tried to shove him away the way I had the monster, but he didn't budge. He didn't look like a beast the way the teacher had, if anything he seemed to glow a little bit. But I didn't want to take any chances. His hands were already burning through my t-shirt.

“Let go! Let go of me!” I screamed.

“Shh! Rae!”

“Who are you!?” I demanded. He paused, then took a deep breath.

“My name is Gael, I'm a divine. And I'm also your half brother.” I don't really have time to explain my reaction to that. I don't really have much time left at all actually. But Gael took me away from the monster, and took me to a place where 'Divines' usually stayed. It was like a hotel, but smaller and hidden like a pub. Divines apparently are like Angels, only they aren't affiliated with a God or anything like that. They're just. . . I don't even know. Supposedly they are the essence of good. And on the other side, Torments-like my teacher-were like Demons without the Devil. They're the essence of bad.

And apparently, being Spawn means I'm a mix of both.

I wish I had more time! But I just don't. Gael may have been a gallant brother and a good guy, but he wants the same thing as the torments. The divines want to take all spawn like me and eat their energy. It doesn't supposedly kill us. . . but I'm not willing to risk it. So now my time is up, and I have to leave. But I have to warn someone. I have to tell someone before I run.

Because it could be you next. Everyone is either a divine or a torment, or spawn like me. If your spawn, then there's a chance that you can put yourself on either side, but if you try to stay neutral. . . you'll be consumed. So I'm just warning you all now, because I need to run. I need to run and I'm asking you to join me. Because it won't ever stop. This battle for good and evil, and all us little people stuck in the middle. I just want to live, I just want to be happy.

Is that so wrong?

So be careful. Because all of us. . .all of us spawn, all of us half divine, half torment, we all have one thing in common. One thing that the other two sides don't have.

We're human.