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Jeanne:Finally, all my chores are done. I say a quick goodbye to Rosey and August, playing quietly by the fireplace. It is cold this winter. I sigh, knowing mother won’t come down at all today. She hasn’t been feeling well since Rosey’s birth, especially with father leaving to fight in the war. We haven’t seen him for about two years. I walk down to the village, my previous thoughts straying to be replaced with joyful excitement. My worries fade in the face of my impending visit. Just thinking of his face makes me relax. I am jogging now, and at last I get to Isten’s house. I knock on the door. He opens it and I blush, shyly. “Hi Anne. I’m happy to see you. I missed you!” He opens the door and allows me through. I lean against the wall looking at him. “How are you Anne? You haven’t stopped by in a couple days. How’s your mother?”“Oh, you know, the same. Hardly ever gets out of bed anymore. Hasn’t had a fever for a few days though. I’m fine, as usual. How’s your sister? Still upset about Jason?”“Well yeah, I mean he was our brother. And she was much closer to him than I was. Still hasn’t said a word.” Isten says a bit dejectedly. Then he brightens.“Maria came by yesterday. She brought a bit of that bread with the seeds she always has since she’s with the mayor’s son now. We can have some now,” He smiles softly at me. I smile softly back.--“I don’t know what we should do Belle!” “Come on, it’s only a broken arm. You’re overreacting.” A rather pretty woman drawled, whose dress still happened to be splattered with blood. “She hurt you! You were weakened! You could have died! This is not a good method. Even you can’t kill off the whole countryside.”She smirked at him. “I rather think I can.”“Arggauraugh!” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that sound was human. Not that I’d mind if you turned into a werewolf,” she said, looking fairly suggestive, “but I’d rather not have you die in the process.”The man looked at her somewhat desperately. She rolled her eyes. “If it bothers you that much, why can’t you just send a few of those soldiers of yours?” The desperate look faded to be replaced with an annoyed one. “Honestly, those ‘soldiers’ are ridiculous! Even if they were competent, apparently ‘normal people have trouble killing innocent women and children’. It’s absurd!”“Well, do you have a solution? Any orphaned and psychopathic nieces or nephews I should know about?” She asked sarcastically.“Orphaned and psychotic..” He mused.“Don’t tell me you do,”“No, no Belle! You know that machine we accidently made when we were trying to travel back in time? The one that can transport a person from any time in the past with requirements? We could get someone! Who would want to kill people!”“You know,” said the woman, a small smirk making its way over her face, “that idea isn’t half bad.”--Lilah was not having a good day. To be fair, she was having a relatively regular day, considering that all her days were bad. Well, that’s not strictly true. She would argue that she was having a worse day, for three reasons. One, five days ago had been a shower day. That meant she was smelly and uncomfortable, but would have to wait two days before getting clean. She honestly didn’t understand why the inmates were only showered once a week. Did the guards actually like the smell of unwashed bodies? Maybe is was to add to their torture. Maybe she had heard something wrong and they were actually in a jail instead of a mental institution. Secondly, there was a new guy here who didn’t know the ropes yet, and was still overwhelmed with glee over finally setting a building on fire. A sentiment she could admire, and it was actually nice to watch the light in their eyes dim over the months. But this idiot was trying to steal her food! As if she wasn’t the top of the food chain everywhere. Her! It was obscene. So of course she had to punish the nasty peon and step on his face repeatedly, which felt wonderful. But then the mean nasty guards who apparently had a fetish for bad smells if the times they used her were anything to go by, took her away from the servant man and made her stay in a cupboard. She actually really liked the cupboard. It was small, dark, and there were spiders. A perfect home, really. She loved the dark. It was the injustice that annoyed her. The guards should have put the annoying peon in here. Idiot that he was, he’d probably dislike the small space and the dark. Ungrateful peasants.Finally, she was in a poorly run mental institution. Enough said.You might be wondering why such a beautiful girl like Lilah would end up in here, instead of ruling the Mafia. Actually that might have a bit to do with why she was in here. The traitor Mafia. So, here’s what happened. She was always very annoyed that the man in the apartment above her’s played drums. At all hours of the night, too! Didn’t he know that it was illegal to disturb a beautiful princess from getting her beauty sleep? And besides, no one else should be in her castle except herself, and maybe her consort if someone ever fell from the sky. But the man did not fall from the sky, so she stabbed him. The police did not like her excuse.Haha, not. To be fair, she actually did stab a man to death because his drums were annoying her, but she would never be foolish enough to be caught. How she actually got in here, well, let’s just say that some people don’t like it when you set a neighborhood on fire. She thought she was justified, actually. Her father was in one of those houses.--Jeanne, or Anne as her maybe-sort-of-boyfriend called her, was happy. There were many reasons for this. Isten kissed her, Isten kissed her, and Isten kissed her. He deserves all the reasons. Anyway, she was walking back to her house happily. She made dinner, attempted to coax her mother out of bed, fed her soup when it appeared she was not getting up anytime soon, and played with Rosey and August. The door swung open. “Isten!” Anne yelled. It made sense. He was completely covered in soot and had a long gash on his forearm. “Anne, you have to leave. I can’t explain now. You have to go, take August and Rosey! We have to leave.”Before Jeanne could reply, the door opened again.In the doorway was a girl. She had black hair and brown eyes. She leaned against the doorframe, appearing to all the world like she was perfectly at ease and there was no place she would rather be. She was also holding a knife. Several, in fact.“Oh look,” she said mockingly, “the mouse led me back to it’s little hidey-hole. Now should I kill you or your girlfriend first?” “What are you doing here?” Isten all but growled. “You’d better leave soon or I’ll kill you for what you did to my family.”“As threats go, that was pretty pathetic and I sincerely doubt you’ll be able to carry it out,” she said disinterestedly while looking at her nails, “how about if you and your pretty little girlfriend don’t line up and let me kill you, I’ll torture you because I’m annoyed about that stunt you pulled at the village and then I’ll cut you guts out and wear them like a necklace. That sound fun?”“You..” Unfortunately, Isten did not get to finish his sentence, because of the knife buried in his neck. “To bad I had to kill him. Ah well, I did mean what I said about wearing his guts as a necklace.”The last thing Isten saw was his Anne’s agony-stricken face.
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Sieli was wearing a crown.Of flowers.Now the crown thing she could understand. It was, after all, the day she was turning eleven, the day she would be named heir for her father's throne. She didn't like it, but she could understand.The flowers, though! There was no need for them, it was just tradition, remembered back from the days when elves lived off the land in the woods. Now they had gold, Sieli didn't want to sound spoiled.But what annoyed her most was probably how she was made to wear flowers. Just because she was female. Sure, it was better, girls could be marked heir, but the throwback just made her very irritated. Her father had antlers on his ceremony.Putting aside the somewhat sexist tradition, Sieli was upset for other reasons as well.One, her friend Aela was gardening and couldn't come. Oh yes, her "friend". The one who couldn't bother to come to the Very ceremony she would be marked as princess. If Aela was just using her for her money, she could at least be smart about it.If there was one thing Sieli despised more than greed, it was foolish greed. Nonetheless, no one else would talk to her, for reasons she still couldn't explain, she would have to deal with greed. Foolish greed. Sieli contained a growl.Two, she was wearing a dress. She hated dresses. It wasn't any dress though. It was the famous pale pink that her mother had worn on her heir ceremony. That she had so graciously passed to Sieli. She had actually been grateful.If the dress had been an ordinary one bought by her father, she could have begged for something else. Pants, a blouse, even a skirt, but no. It had to be from her mother. Who she loved and was very thankful for, so she couldn't complain.And then there was that little voice, always there, saying, "You should be grateful." "Do you have any idea how spoiled you sound?" "Estrela's don't behave like petulant children."Because that was who she was, who she would be now.Sieli Estrela.--My name isn't Kata.My name is Katinera.At least that's what I think my name was. It was what my father called me, when he wasn't calling me Luliena. My dead mother's name.My mother who killed herself.Sometimes I thought my mother very selfish. Not for killing herself. That, of course, I could understand. What with being engaged to my father and all. I knew he was probably a very trying partner.Not voluntarily of course. But in any case, I had always thought my mother was selfish, not for killing herself, but for not taking me with her.Leaving me alone.Well, not really alone.With him.Being alone would probably have been better. But it was okay. It was okay because I was free, I had freed myself, found a weak link and broke my chains. And I had found a girl. A girl, just like me.A girl I helped, a girl I saved.Two girls. Girls I saved, just like me.Free, we all were.Free.
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He had been watching the boy, like he always had. He didn't really know who he was, but at the same time felt detached from his surroundings. Watching through the boy's eyes, feeling the boy's emotions, he felt infinite but separated, like a god who has watched the oceans created and the animals evolve, who has seen so many humans that one more doesn't make a difference. And so he watched as the boys godfather beat him, as his stepmother told him that his parents were useless drunks who deserved the end they got, as his sister beat him up then called him weak for letting her, for taking it.All this he watched, unbiased, detached, disconnected, separate.Until one day the godfather raped him and trapped the boy, his boy because the boy was his now, held him down in the dark and heard his screams and as the man called him pretty boy and that was wrong because he had fought and had won and no one was ever going to do that to him ever ever again so why was this happening-Suddenly the boy remembered his name.His name was Eli, but he hated that name ever since the voices whispered it in the dark he longed to own, but his boy's name was Fabian, he heard it sneered from all the members of the household, but he would reclaim it, he would make it right, he would make it his name in the way that none other was. The boy, his boy, was crying and that was wrong, so he drew the boy into himself, looked into the boy's eyes, dried his tears, and let him fall asleep. He emerged, feeling the body and how it hurt and he was helpless but he wasn't. He had magic and it sang at his fingertips, and the man pulled out of him, the boy, Fabian.He gently touched the man's face, enjoying the look of fear as where he touched ash remained.He repeated his mantra since he was a little boy.Touch me and you burn.This time, he would remember it.--He walked out of the room, leaving his godfather's charred corpse in his wake, ignoring the ache. He had felt much worse before. He saw his step-mother come up the stairs, start with a list of chores he could do, and stopped. Probably something to do with the eerie smile on Fabian's not-so-innocent face. "Hello Mummy!" Fabian said brightly. "I'm so happy to see you! You must be pleased to see me too, after all you love me don't you."Then of course there was his sister. He walked upstairs, into her room. She was playing a game on her computer and presumably listening to music. Which was when he saw her.He got her attention by yanking off her headphones, probably permanently damaging them, not that it mattered, and throwing a book at her computer screen. He woke her up, she protested. He put his arms around her and burned."Weak am I? Tell me I'm weak now." She made no sound."That's what I thought."The girl begged, and pleaded. He did nothing. It didn't matter. Fabian didn't hate the girl, he just wanted her gone so she would never hurt him ever again.--He weaved cocoons of spider silk softly around the boy. He slipped in next to the boy and gingerly put an arm around him. Was it his imagination that the boy snuggled closer? In any case, they were currently in an alley. On one hand, this was a bad thing because they could be kidnapped and the ground was very cold and hard, but on the other hand they had spider silk and if anyone tried to kidnap them then Fabian would use his powers. The boy was waking up. "Who are you?" He asked, after waking up and blinking blearily at the face next to his. "I was watching you. I stopped your family from hurting you." Despite the ominousness of this answer, the boy smiled."Are you my savior?" The boy asked.Fabian grinned. He liked that. "Yes, I'm your savior." His boy smiled again, then snuggled back into the warm silk and fell asleep. --Why am I in an alley? Did my godfather finally decide to be rid of me? Fabian awoke and looked around, scared and confused. At least until he felt the prodding of another consciousness against his own. Oh right. His savior.Of course the boy was going to save Fabian again. Are you alright? It was nice to have someone ask that. Like they cared about the useless burden. I'm fine, thank you. How are you? I'm good, thank you as well.The sincerity of this comment made Fabian think that maybe the other boy hadn't had anyone who cared enough to ask, either.What's your name? Fabian, the boy answered immediately. That's my name, Fabian thought back, absurdly possessive of a sound that in the end mattered little. I know, thought his savior. But it's mine too because I'm you."Don't you have a name?" His savior was silent. Fabian didn't ask again.
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Lilah was hiding cutely in a beautiful closet. Lousy peons wouldn't appreciate the darkness.-- I was running through a forest, running and running as leaves scratched on my face. But no, I wasn't! I was inside, I was combing my mothers hair as she read to me and it was torture.You might think I would like moments like these, but I hated them. I hated them because she would say things like how much she loved me and about how she lost her temper sometimes. I would say I loved her back.I don't think either of us knows what love is. I was angry at her, I hated her. Not for what she did to me. I had masks, I had shields, I had coping mechanisms. No, I was furious at what she did to who I was. The sweet little girl who was much to adorable for her mother. She liked me then. When I was young and loving and compliant. She killed that child.No child should be treated like I was. I'm still poisoned. A few things my mother prides herself on were her honesty and her democracy.She thinks our household is equal. She would tell me she would never lie to me. She lied every time she loved me.She didn't. She loved her idea of me, the idea of her perfect daughter, the grateful daughter who got all the opportunities she never had. Of course, not when she beat me. I don't even know what was going through her head then. That's what I call them. Strange. Because I never will understand them.She liked to think she cared about me.I wanted a mother who cared for me. But it didn't matter. It didn't becauseI was Juliet.JulietJulietJuliet Who is Lilies? --Lilies was thrashing around as Anna tried to wake her up. Suddenly she went still and Anna managed to get Lilies's eyes open."Savannah?" Lilies asked. Anna knew who she was talking to. Lilies had been having nightmares for about four or five days now. "It's Anna, remember? I'm Anna. I'm yours. You saved me.""Anna? But, I don't get Anna. Do I?""Yes, it's just a nightmare." Anna said soothingly, as if speaking to a wild animal. "No, it's real. It's real." Lilies whispered, curling into Anna's side for comfort. For one of the first times, she looked her age.Lilies spoke even quieter, "She took me. She took all of it.""No, she didn't take me. I'm you, remember?" Lilies seemed to wake up a bit and look around, her eyes lucid. "Anna?" "Yes Lilies?"Lilies looked at her Anna's black hair, her small frame, her scars."I'm going to take care of you like she never took care of me." Lilies pulled Anna close and went back to sleep. Of course, she woke up again with new nightmares, but it was okay. Because her Anna is here.
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Today at lunch, when Olivia and Emily told me that they were going outside for recess, they told me not to come. I said okay, and I smiled, because they talked to me and it was so nice of them to talk to me. They left their bags in the cafeteria, so I hid in the bathroom the whole lunch, so I could be there when they came back. Because this is what good friends do.--Today, I was talking to a girl, Kathryn I think her name is. She was saying how she wanted to do well on her next test, because then her mother would give her five dollars. I remembered money I had, twenty dollars, I had gotten as a birthday present. Of course, I gave her one dollar for being nice to me, and twenty because I could, because maybe she would like me.--Today at lunch, I sat with Kathryn, who shared her brownie with me. It was really nice! It was like having friends.There were a few other people there too, a boy named Marco and a girl called Juliet. I didn't pay much attention. I had friends!--In class today, Kathryn asked me for more money. I didn't want to give her any more, but she said she would be my best friend forever if I did! I want to have a best friend! I think I'll steal some from my Mom's purse tonight when everyone's sleeping.--Today the other girl, Juliet, told me not to give Kathryn the money I had. She said that Kathryn wouldn't really be my best friend. I'm not sure if I believe her though. Kathryn let me sit with her at lunch and everything! I think me and Kathryn are gonna be best friends forever!--Kathryn gave me makeup during recess. She even helped me put it on and look just like her! I have her some more money too, of course. They all took pictures of me to and we laughed about how beautiful I look! --When I came home yesterday, Mom was really angry at me for having makeup on. It was really scary! She made me tell her that it was Kathryn who put it on me, and called her Mom! I really hope Kathryn's not in trouble. I'm so sorry.I guess I have to go to school now. I really hope that Kathryn will still be my best friend.--Great news! Kathryn is angry at me, but she'll still be my friend. I got her grounded, though, I feel so guilty. I would have given her more money, but my Mom noticed some money was gone and got so angry. I'm so worried that Kathryn will be angry at me though.Mom told me not to hang out around Kathryn anymore though, but we have to hang out, we're best friends! She told me not to tell anyone we're friends.--Kathryn said she's not going to be my friend anymore. It's okay. It's amazing we spent so long together anyway. No one's ever my friend.
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I was lost.I was lost because they had me, they had me and they used me and told me they loved me but never touched me never touched me but always touched me to much to much all over.I didn't want them to make me into something I'm not, force me into a mask they created for me.So I made my own masks, I didn't want to but I made my own, ones that were kind of like me but didn't hurt like I did, masks that were like theirs but that didn't burn meDidn't poison the shadows.I tried so hard to remember who I was, if there was someone else beneath the masks.And there was. There was a girl. A small girl, who was so cold and just wanted to be protected and taken care of and kept safe and healed and warm.My little girl.We kept our arms at our sides and our wrists were exposed, our neck bared.(I'm sorry)So someone came to us, and they saw.They grabbed our wrist, and it was wonderful, so perfect, so beautiful.They pulled me close, and I thought I was whole.I never realized that in the other hand they were holding a knife.They hurt me.(I'm so sorry that I'll do anything for you)I am lost.(please, find me)No matter how many times I run away, I will always come back, begging for you to make me go away again.(I don't want to be broken. I want to be whole. I don't think I know what it's like to not be broken.)(I think I've been cold for so long, I forgot how to be warm)(please, find me)(please, save me)--You say you love me, and I know you believe it.But there is lie in believe, and I know you love who you think I am.I know you love the mask I created for you to love.I love you.I know you don't love me.I know you don't love me because you love her, the mask, and you say you'll never leave me, that you adore me, that you'll never leave my side.You don't know who I am.You don't know me.I know that if you found out you'd run, you'd run and run and run and I'll always be able to catch you.But you'll never say that you love me again.Not you.Because I know I can break you, I know I can make you want me, make you think you love me, the real me.But then you wouldn't be you.Then you would be someone else, the puppet I created to love me, and I can't do that.I love you.I want your forehead kisses and sweet giggles and your habit of tapping your pencil on the side of your face when you think and the way you grin at me when I kiss you as if it's a secret only we know and the way you can always beat me when we play checkers and when you tell me you love me your eyebrows get all crinkly like you're winking and your half-smiles and I want you I want you I love you.So I keep lying.Because the most important thing I say is true.I've done this all a million times before but I'm not tired of it never tired of it because every time you say you love me sends a spark into me smile and a grin into my eyes.I love you.And your lies sound so sweet I almost believe them.Why do you keep making me into this person I'm not?(Why do you keep lying to me?)Why can't I hate you?Why do you keep telling me you love me?(Why do you keep lying?)Why do I believe your lies?(I love you.)I love you.(You love me.)You love me.(please, love me)(please, save me)--To all the ones who hurt meTo the girls who refused to sit with me on the busTo the girls who I was forced on by my mother, to play dates they grumbled about to their real friendsTo the children in my class who never were my partner so I had to go to the teacherTo the boys who would laugh at my act, at my maskTo the fake friends, who only hung around me out of obligationOut of pityWho used my loneliness, my loyalty, for themselves and themselves aloneYou will never be sorryYou will never regret itYou will never knowI do not waste my timeI do not waste my hatredI do not waste anything of mine on youBecause youAre nothingAnd I don't care about youAnd you could have been everythingYou could have been goodYou could have been greatYou could have stood by my side and together we could have laughed in the face of hellBut at the same timeIt could have never happened Because you made your choiceYou decided To abuse meTo hurt me when I was weak and powerless and hurt and helplessAnd you could have been greatBut you are dustAnd I am StarlightI am eternal, and I found my place in the wolf pack you threw me to.--They say the best revenge is happiness.I say the best revenge against those who want me dead is living while they die.--The thing is, that you still want revenge. You still want them to pay.You still want to torture them until they realize their folly, until they regret it. And I don't. Do you know why? Because you want them to burn, because you still care about them. You still want them to regret it, and that makes you still a scared, sad little boy, who still wants his parents to notice him. Who still wants them to love him. After all, the only times we were noticed is when we were punished, wasn't it.And you hate them. You want them to regret it. But me? Well, I don't care anymore. Because I thought I was empty, but I was full of hate. I wanted them to want me. Just like I always did. All that, just the fantasies of a lonely girl.To make them realize I wasn't just a scared little girl hiding in the corner. They deserve nothing of mine, not my hatred. My hatred is an honor. You want purpose. I want freedom. You want to make them pay. I will make them pay by making them worthless.--This is the story of a girl and her motherOnce there was a girl who liked to drawShe didn't love drawing, she didn't want to make it into a career, she just liked itIf someone had asked her if she liked drawing, she would have proudly said yesOnce, she worked on a piece she was rather proud ofIt wasn't great, and she knew it wasn't great, but she was relatively proud of itSo she showed it to her motherHer mother only said a few things
Among them were "that isn't that good," "you're old enough now for me to not have to praise everything you do," and "I'm just being honest."That night, the girl threw her drawing awayThe next two weeks, she didn't draw, because every time she did her mother's words echoed through her headShe got into the habit of not drawingAbout three years later, she was asked what she likedShe forgot about drawingShe only gave it a passing thoughtAnd the thing is It doesn't matterHer life isn't that different as it would have beenReally, nothing changedShe could become an artist, to spite her mother, but she really doesn't careHer mother doesn't even remember the passing remarkIt was just a tiny brushstroke in the painting that was herBut that was not the only commentOf course notThere were brush strokes of telling the girl she was useless, ungrateful, unwantedThere was the mother telling the girl she would never be anythingAnd never remembering the offhand remarksBecause they didn't matterBecause they never matterDo you want to hear a secret?Do you want to know why a thousand little betrayals hurt worse then one big one?It's because you never regret the little betrayalsIt's because you never even notice them.--They told meThat if I committed suicide I'd go to hellAnd I was confusedBecause it's already where I amA different hell won't hurt meI want to walk in the rain Because the stormIs bigger insideSo maybe The soft pitter-patter of the rainWill drown outThe yelling inside(I've been through hell and I came out laughing)--Oh you sweet little girlWhy don't you go awayAnd leave us all aloneBut less alone Than when you're hereYou're not readyFor the big, bad grownup world yetYou think that everything is like your kindergarten classWhere the teacher makes all the rulesAnd steps inIf things get too violentYou sweet little thingStop trying to beat sense Into the only sane people around--Don't nod when I tell you you're worthlessDon't agree when I tell you you're shitBecause every time I punch youEvery time you cryI feel as though I'm punched a thousand timesMy promises to youEcho in my earsI'm not the person to whom you gave yourselfI wish I could winThis battle with myselfPlease don't surrender Please don't submitI'm fighting this battleWith myselfAnd maybe if you fought me I could winBut you just agreeWith those hopeless crying eyesAnd I want to kill the part of meThat likes to see you cry(I want to hold you close)(to protect you from myself)(but then)(I realize I'm strangling you)--Your sane is my crazy Your normal is my weirdYour strange is my lifestyle And your world Is my playground--I'm a murderer; I killed the girl that I used to be, the girl that used to smile all the time,the girl that used to have a lot of friends, the girl that I used to see in the mirror, Smiling, Now she is dead, her eyes a darker color, and she rarely smiles,and she doesn't believe the compliments that she receives, because she believesthat they are just trying to make her feel better.--Make them think you trust themMake up your life as they know itTell themTell them about the boy you had a crush onNot the girl you're datingTell them about the anxiety you had because of your bad grade on a testNot the anxiety about being worthless, about no one being your friendTell them about the girl who sits next to you on the bus even when there's empty seatsDon't tell them it happened once and then she moved away halfway through to sit with her real friendTell them about the mood swing you had because your anxiety due to schoolworkNot about your desire to kill yourselfTell them when you're happy Don't say anything when you're sadWhen they ask how you are
Tell them you're fine, because it's what they want to hearAnd what they think is the only thing that mattersBe happy for them, and forget yourselfTell them you're happy you're alive, but really you're happy because you know eventually, you're going to die.(my mother still doesn't know that i sleep so much because i hate being conscious)(my father still doesn't know that i feel distant from him all the time)(my sister still doesn't know that i hate who i am and wish I could be more like her)But I KnowTheseThings...AndThey'reSlowly ButSurely... Killing ... Me
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Savannah Decesare was not looking forward to the first day of Sixth grade. The first reason for this was that she had subconsciously used the mask of a young, innocent girl during the whole of her elementary school years. This mask was very useful because if someone insulted you, and you were a young, innocent girl, you wouldn't realize that they had insulted you, and therefore wouldn't be hurt. In addition, if you were a young, innocent girl, you wouldn't understand that your friends didn't like you, and were only putting up with you because they had to. You wouldn't understand what it meant when one girl said 'I have a play date with Savannah today' in a strange tone of voice and the other girl said 'I'm sorry about that.'You wouldn't understand.It was also useful for when her mother babied her and told her what to do.It was the only problem she had with loving her mother. That her mother thought she was entitled to Savannah's love. Just because she had given birth to her.Thought she was the master of Savannah's life just because she was her mother. Savannah might have loved her. If she hadn't thought she was entitled to her love. If she hadn't forced her values on her. If she hadn't tried to impose all the opportunities she had never gotten on Savannah.Her Savannah.Her baby girl.The thing was, she had never asked Savannah who she belonged to. And those things made Savannah's mother who she was, so there was no way Savannah would ever love her.But in any case, the existence of the nearly constant mask annoyed her now for one reason.She wanted friends. Real friends. No. She didn't care.I just want to be wanted. That's all.One day, I want to not have to run to catch up to listen on the fringes of the conversation.One day, I want them to wait for me.Just.Once.Why do you take everything of mine and make it yours, and then hand it back as if it is a favor, as if I would still want it?As if it wasn't mine to begin with?(as if you hadn't stolen everything from me)--The first day was hard. I met up with my friends, one of which had in turn met one of her other, better, friends so I wasn't really doing anything in particular. That is to say, I was trying to keep up with them.It started at the lunch table, because at first I had sat next to them, I couldn't contribute to the conversation, but it was enough. The next day I sat a little farther away.The next day I sat at a table near theirs, because there wasn't room for me.The day after that, they went outside during lunch. I couldn't come. I went to the bathroom, and sat in one of the stalls. I have a memory of sitting there, reading my notes from one of my classes. Waiting for them, always waiting for them.(this is what good friends do)--That whole year was a struggle, actually. Some of my friends were excluding me, some of them were ignoring me entirely. I even got bad grades on purpose because they did. So I could be like them. I wanted to be included.We all do, don't we?Of course, then there was my 'friend' Erin. Sweet, sweet Erin. Wonderful Erin who gossiped about me behind my back and only kissed me to have blackmail material. Who told me fake confessions to hear my real ones. She was right. They're all right.That was in the middle of seventh grade. When Erin had kissed me for the first time. When I had discovered my sexuality.When I had met Lilies.Of course, she didn't go by the name Lilies then. She went by the name Juliet. Not on purpose. My Juliet and my Lilies are so different, but exactly the same. I talked to her about Erin. Of course, I didn't tell her everything, considering she still thought I was straight, but I told her some stuff. Juliet had said she had never liked Erin. About a week after that, we exchanged numbers. Well, I gave her my number and she told me she couldn't talk on the phone or her mother would kill her. At the time I had thought she was being metaphorical.In any case, we went to the village around that time. My father, who is actually pretty nice despite being besotted with my mother, picked up Juliet, a feat that I later learned was accomplished by Juliet's mother thinking she was doing homework.She told me she wasn't punished too badly. The next time we got together outside of school was at a carnival. We walked around, avoiding Erin, which somehow brought up the subject of her. I talked about Erin, about other betrayals, she talked about those who had thought they could hurt her. The ones who thought they could fix her. They only made her more broken. Somehow it had led to our sexualities. I told her I was pansexual. She told me she wasn't sure, definitely queer, but aside from that she didn't know. I told her how angry my mother had been when I told her I was pansexual. About how it wasn't a thing. About how I was straight and just confused. About how I was too young to know these kinds of things. About how it was just a phase.I'm not too young now. If I was old enough at eight years old to be hurt so badly, I was old enough now to at least know my sexuality.(why do the rules change every time they might benefit me?)--Juliet had taken to sitting with me at lunch. And when I say lunch, I mean reading fanfiction discretely in the library. But it was nice to have company. We didn't talk. Not because we didn't know what to say. But because we had a mutual understanding that we had no interest in useless small talk. Near the end of the year. We went on a class trip to a park or something. We had become girlfriends on that trip. Juliet did my hair in braids like hers. I wore it like that all the days after. Then after that, I had been upset about my mother. She had said something, I suppose we had been arguing. She had called me 'useless' and a 'spoiled brat', somehow in the same sentence. I had confessed to Juliet. I told her everything. I had been scared to. But at the same time I had to. Hey, at least if I die I'll be dead, right?Juliet had been furious. Cursing my mother, holding me, her eyes were like fire.Then she had been worried, had apologized, thought she had overstepped boundaries, and that was wrong. Because she was Juliet, and I was hers, and her eyes were like the fire I wished for before I became to ashamed to dream. I didn't have to worry. Not now, not ever. Even if I'm terrible, even if I don't know anything, it's okay. It's okay because all I have to do is trust. Trust in Juliet. Trust in Lilies.And that was the easiest thing in the world.
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I can't do this.I shouldn't.I'm leaning against the wall, head in my elbow and I shouldn't be.I shouldn't be crying.I'm a failure, I'm a fucking failure, I'm unstable, I can't even fucking take care of my girl properly.I'm just a girl, just a fucking useless girl, and I shouldn't even be here.On one hand, I'm not worthy to stay here in the first place, but I shouldn't. I should be taking care of my girl, learning what I can, I should be tough.Most of all, I shouldn't be having nightmares my girl can see. I shouldn't be crying, especially if she finds out.Juliet cried sometimes. And then I cried, the night (I didn't even burn my own house because the fire magic isn't mine so I'm a fucking useless pyromaniac) my house burned down I cried.I was supposed to never cry again.I'm supposed to be happy. I'm not supposed to have these feelings anymore.These are Savannah's feelings, Anna's feelings, Juliet's feelings.Not mine.I can't even fucking talk to my girl.She'll think I'm weak, that I'm unstable, that I can't fucking take care of her and I can't, not when I'm so wrapped up in myself.These are Anna feelings.I know, when she wakes me up from nightmares, that she thinks less of me.I would never have nightmares, never cry, before I came here.I just thought it would be different.I thought that maybe here, I wouldn't be useless, now that I don't have my mother's voice screaming the sentiment no matter what I do.It turns out she can still scream it, no matter how many times I've killed her.It turns out that now I tell myself I'm useless.Maybe I'm the masochist.I love hurting myself as much as my girl does anyways.But my fucking useless incompetent emotions. Can no one ever take care of me? No, because I can't fucking trust anyone, not even my girl, I just want...I just want to be happy.My facade is so ridiculous, did I really think that a bit of fire and red hair would change anything?No, I'm still the fucking useless unwanted girl I always was.I think Anna's gonna find me soon.I don't know what to do.I can't even wish to die because of her.
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It does.It does change. It's been six months. And I'm different. I'm different because I didn't know who I was.There was the girl I was, the little girl, the one who was good. There was the girl I was, Juliet, the one who was bad.And now there's me. And I am Lilies. I think, in the dead of night, sometimes I still think I'm worthless. Sometimes I still want to scream until my lungs give out.But it's okay. It's okay now. Because Anna did find me that first day, the first day I cried. She was alone. I didn't wipe away my tears. She wiped away her tears once, when she was crying, and I was there. I told her that they were my tears. I told her she belonged to me. I told her she could cry into me, and I would hold her. If there's one thing I know about me, is I can protect my girl from every single storm that tries to break her down. I just have to make sure I can keep her safe from the storm inside me. And when Anna found me, that day, I decided something. I decided that on the day I burned what should have been my home and my family, I accepted myself. I accepted my darkness. You know what else I accepted, Mom, you fuckwit? I accepted that I'm bad. As bad as they get. I accepted I'm ungrateful. I don't deserve anything. Well, guess what? You taught me this is a dog eat dog world, so I accept that I will take what I don't deserve, because I don't care. And I shoved my girl against the wall and pinned her wrists to it. And she was so pliant in my grasp.I think the only thing that's stopping me from breaking her is that she trusts me not to. That, and she's a girl like me. I won't let her be hurt so bad as I was. It's almost funny. No one's telling me what to do anymore. The woman isn't bothering me since I set the kitchen on fire. The man isn't bothering me since I set his study on fire. (Do most of my solutions have to do with fire? Nooooo why would you say that?) Anna doesn't tell me what to do.She's doing... better, now. We're not equals, by any means, but she serves me now too. I don't just look out for her. It comforts her. I tell her to do things, like sit in a pose until I say, and I'm not making fun of her like the jerks did at school. I read, or I make busy, and she stays, and she is safe, and I control her. I'm mentioning it because I don't eat now. I was always a bit thin, didn't really get fed enough. Never really thought about it. No where near how small my girl was, though. I think she might've not eaten, though for different reasons. Wouldn't put it past her bitch mother to say she was so ungrateful she didn't deserve to eat, and my girl taking it to heart. Fortunately, she put on a bit of weight since we've been here. I like feeding her as much (possibly more) as I like starving myself. She's just so... young it seems, and I like taking care of her like this, of providing for her in the most basic way.We have the best kisses (and a bit more) after too, so that's a plus. It's new, this not eating thing. Sometimes it makes me a bit guilty, because I don't want my Anna to worry about me. I know she knows. She's submissive, not stupid. But she, she trusts me to make decisions, which is pretty much why I won't let this get out of hand.I'll never break promises to my girl.It's just... I want to starve myself like my mother did, but this time on my own terms. I want to have control, something that seems more lacking with each nightmare, each panic attack, each time I'm terrified someone took my girl and I just need to hold her, feel her in my arms, run my fingers over her neck, her thighs, the burn marks on her wrists. And part of me wants to be pure, be strong, be thin. I can't explain it, not really. But.It's going, now. It's changing. All we need is time. (And FIRE)