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Initially, I thought there would be a lot more great deal of pain when it came to dying. But in the end, it only was an intense heavy and numb feeling, almost like you were hit in the head with a large block of ice. The only notion really that I was really even dying was the metallic taste in my mouth, and the haze in my eyes. I looked at her, her young girlish features tainted by the splatter of my blood. Her eyes remained opened, as if she were to be strangled, and her mouth twitched wildly, most likely from shock. It was sad that that was going to be the expression she wore the last time I saw her. I really don't think I had ever seen anyone as scared as she was at that moment, and if I had had time to reflect on it, I would have been frightened too. With a great jolt, I felt the muscles in my body let go, giving up on my hope. As I fell on top of her, I managed to whisper,

"Goodbye Alice."
I know it's incredibly short, but this was one of the only things I've written that I was actually super fond of.

Cheshire and his goodbye to Alice.

Yeah. Feels. I feels everywhere about my own characters.
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American McGee’s Alice Poem
Entitled “Cheshire Cat”
By Seth Vandenburg

Wonderland’s mysterious grinning feline
His riddles, ever so divine
But on first sight to Alice
Who before, her heart never had malice
The cat was as strange as all the signs

As of now, the Cheshire Cat has changed
His fur, his riddles, all of him rearranged
Body a skeleton-form, a ring in his ear
And his grin was much worse to fear
His teeth, completely fanged

His sudden transformation, so very uncouth
All of him changed, body to tooth
No normal man would dare to delve
To fight the Cheshire Cat’s corrupted shell
Though Alice was calm, to tell the truth

They both journeyed together through Wonderland
Through treacherous hordes of enemies, band by band
The Red Queen’s domain, they soon appear
The end game forever near
Though sadly, the Cheshire Cat met his end by the Red Queen’s hand
My second AMA poem, this one about the Cheshire Cat.

Comment when you fave please.
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Claws that rip,

Fangs that gleam,

Gives the mad wicked dreams.

Wanders forward; halts; stares,

Eyes of yellow, slitted pupils. Glare.

And out of shadows, rasped sound speaks,

Like a whisper given weak wind,

Quizzical voice whom obscures reap

With ill fated fate on breath, such sins.

‘What wonders down before mine eyes?

Brings cause to wonder,

draws out surprise?

Why, travelers that wander here,

Come from far, come from near.

Pausing only in brief repose,

Tho' conciseness still may expose,

Secrets, lies, half truths, Un-wholes,

And in, the seekers dig like moles.

Stay for more than a moment long?

And thy mind to you will no longer belong.

Take into context thoughts that fray,

Like my claws, from which blood runs astray.

Now run, run little birds, have no fear,

We're all quite mad, Quite awfully mad, here.’
The Cheshire cat from American McGee's Alice Inspired me to write this. Well, that and playing the game for 3 hours straight.

A bit warped, yes, but it makes for a great PC game:)
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"Be careful, Alice. Watch your step, Alice," repeated the Cheshire Cat as she walked through the valley of the spikes. He stood in silence as he watched her weave in and out of the sharp, elongated death-trap.

He held his breath, watching as a spike plummeted from the top of the ceiling, thinking her end was near. He closed his eyes hearing the spike sink into the marred ground, his heart stopping. 'Was she gone?' he thought. 'She never bothered to listen to me that silly girl... but now who will save us? Who will save her?' He opened his eyes.

To his shock, the last of the butterflies took off around her as she continued through the maze. She survived. "Impossible..." he said to himself, "but then again, this girl has yet ceased to amaze me." He stood above the shafts, his claws sinking into every board, his golden eyes watching his broken mistress continue forth on her journey.
This is a little something that I wrote for the new game "Alice Madness Returns".

The game is amazing but the 5th world is scary as fuuuuuu =____=. Plus it is basically the same place where I got the idea for the fic.

Note: Always listen to Cheshire. If not, prepare to have spikes impaling the top of your head.

AN: I don't really like this fic and I'm not really sure about it.... *sighs* I honestly don't like the way I write most of the time so I guess that's part of it
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“Come back Ecila, Come back!”
She runs into a dark cave.
“where are you going, don't act like that!”
She mocks them all “don't misbehave!”

“Phew” she says as she wipes her forehead upside down--
“that was close”, she chuckles as she smiles with a frown.
“I had to get out, from that suffocating town.”
“ha!” she lets out slowly... as her voice changes sound.
She falls flat on the ground--
she gets up and looks around--
she sees a blue-white-ribboned gown.

She puts it on at once!
finds a bottle of fragrance.
Sprays it over her blue dress--
takes her hair and fixes the mess--
looks in a mirror with distress--

She sees a golden key--
she drops down to her knees.
Spots a small door--
very close to the floor...

She looks rapidly to her right--
she sees something burning bright.
She takes it in her hand--
a bright potion just as planned.
One sip and she coughs!
she shrinks down, and she scoffs!

She opens up the door, and sees a gorgeous sight--
creatures roaming free, drenched in delight.
“Oh how I’ve wanted this”, she says to the skies--
“a place where I can do as I please, without any spies.
I can be their girl, they wont see past this disguise.

I've read the books, I know it all very well--
they will think I am Alice, it will be, just swell.
I have the same, even the same smell--
I've planned this for weeks, way before I fell.”

She walks around, with a giant smile on her face
“at last I am here, the most wonderful place”

She hears familiar sounds coming from above...
"Come back Ecila! Wake up my love!"

She opens up her eyes, and finds her self in bed
nurses around her, “I think the fever's gotten to her head”

“nooo” she cries as she drips cold sweat--
she tosses and turns in her sheets, all wet.

“Where am I? Let me go!” She tries to sit up straight
“sorry dear, you're sick", the nurse comes closer with a plate.

She looks past the nurse...and sees over there!––
a dirty blue-white-ribboned dress, laying across the chair.

“Where did that come from then!?” she points to the dress--
the nurse looks confused, and replies “you need some rest.”

“Don't you see, I don't belong here, I want to leave this place!”,
she turns to her right, and sees a mirror, but not her face.
Scared she loses breath, and the nurse calls out for help--
Every thing goes black, “Alice, Alice !!" a voice yelps...

“Is it you, come closer, we've missed you all these years--
lets go on an adventure, you have nothing at all to fear.
Come towards the light, let's go have some tea!”
Ecila has one last smile, her body limp, she drops a key.

The nurses and her mother, cry and hold her tight,
Ecila runs with her friends joyfully towards the light.

“Alice, Alice we love you", they all whisper in her ear––
as they walk further and further away, until they disappear.

© Rocio Belinda Mendez 2013
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It was late, just a few hours before midnight. You were curled up on a comfy beige sofa in a blanket while mindlessly watching tv. You were currently staying with your friend Alice at her large apartment in the city for a couple weeks. You had met the beautiful British girl a few months ago and the two of you had become friends almost instantly. She was quirky, highly imaginative, and always had a way of going with the flow no matter what kind of crazy situations you both got into. You felt comfortable around Alice because you could tell her all your ridiculous fantasies and daydreams and she would never judge you for them. In fact she seemed rather to encourage the impossible. Some days you would both just make up silly scenarios and stories and get caught up pretending they were real. Being around Alice was as natural and comfortable as breathing. You never felt the need to hide who you really were or watch what you said in her presence. She truly had accepted you just the way you are.  

It had rained for most of the day, but it had stopped a little before sunset. Alice had gone out earlier that evening around noon to run some errands. You had decided to stay inside instead of braving the cold rain just to go to the bank. You would have been worried at her not being home by now if you hadn’t have been familiar with Alice’s habit of getting side tracked and heading off to her boyfriend Jack’s house or wandering about town on a wild goose chase. Whenever something interesting caught her eye she would let her curiosity get the better of her and then she wouldn’t stop until it was completely and absolutely satisfied.

You were currently flipping through the channels, marveling at how with over 300 of them there couldn’t be a single decent thing on, when you heard the front door open and then a second later slam shut. Alice was the only one with a key so you weren’t alarmed. You hopped up from the couch and decided to meet her at the door. Surely she had another wild tale to tell you about how her simple trip to the bank turned into an all day adventure. When you rounded the corner towards the door however you saw that Alice was not in her usual happy mood. She was perched by the door panting hard and looking frantically out through the thin curtains that covered the slim glass panels that were decoratively on both sides of the door frame. Her voluminous golden hair that went all the way past her waist was still damp from being out in the previous rain and the lovely pastel blue dress she was wearing was torn and caked in mud. Immediately worried you gently laid your hand on her small shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong?” Alice jumped at your touch, but let out a sigh of relief when she recognized it was only you. “There is too much wrong to explain it now, but I need you to take care of something for me,” she replied and her usual sing song voice came out in a jumbled rush. She dug around in her dress pocket and pulled out a wooden cylinder. Then she reached for your arms and thrusted the circular object into your hands. You couldn’t help but notice how cold her skin was to the touch and how much her tiny hands had trembled. “This is very important and you must protect it at all costs. You must not let it out of your sight do you hear me?” she insisted fervently. Her sky blue eyes were as big as saucers and filled with an expression you had never before seen in them; fear.  

Alice was afraid, but why? You looked down at the palm sized cylinder in your hands. It was made of old wood from what you could tell and had a cork screw spiral pattern hand carved all around it.  “What is this thing Ali?” you asked while turning the object over and over in your hands. It fit in the palm of your hand and at the bottom of the wooden spirals was a ring of silver metal with a band of combination lock numbers all around it. “That thing is what holds possibly the most important ring in the world.” You raised your eyebrow speculatively and said, “This isn’t another one of your Lord of the Rings role playing games is it?” You felt the sides of your lips turn up into a small smirk, but Alice was not amused. “No,” she said and her expression was completely serious, “The ring hidden inside of that contraption controls the portals between this world and another called Wonderland.”  

You looked at your beautiful bedraggled friend and smiled ruefully as you said, “Riigghhtt. Well in that case I will protect this treasure with my life Princess!” then you stood up straight and gave her a mock military salute. “This isn’t another one of our games of make-believe. I am perfectly serious. The ring inside that container holds the balance of life and death for thousands of people. Here I will show you how to open it.” Alice then guided your hands with her paler smaller ones over the combination numbers. Then she pushed down on the number nine and held it while she twisted the metal band completely. It made a mechanical springing noise and suddenly the top of the wooden spiral popped open, revealing a large antique ring. It was made of real gold and was in the shape of a quarter sized circle with a small circular sapphire placed in the middle. All around the sapphire was a band of dark emeralds shaped like coiled snakes and underneath the emerald snakes at the base of the ring was a smaller band of tiny diamonds. On the band of the ring itself where it wraps around the finger were silver numbers like three, nine, and twenty seven. The numbers seemed to be completely random on first sight, but you noticed that they were the same numbers as were printed on the container’s lock. The ring was beautiful, incredibly valuable looking and gaudy; as all real ancient jewelry seemed to be. This ring didn’t look fake at all. Somehow you got the feeling this wasn’t another one of Alice’s flea market finds. “There you see now? ” she said with her hands on her hips and a look of I-told-you-so on her heart shaped face. “Ali, where did you get this?” you asked, adopting her previous seriousness. “It’s been in my family for a very long time. This is the…” Alice was cut off mid-sentence by the beeping sound of her cell phone. You were familiar enough with the sound to recognize it as a new text. Alice picked up her phone and looked at the glowing screen. Her already pale face turned white as a sheet and her eyes widened with alarm. “I have to go. I’ll explain later when I can. Listen; don’t let anyone into the apartment. Keep the ring safe and on you at all times. Never let anybody else know that you have it,” Alice grabbed onto your arms in a vice like grip and locked your gaze with an intense one of her own, “You’re the only one I can trust with it.”

Not understanding anything of what she was saying you nodded your agreement anyways. Alice was the very definition of strange, but you had never before seen her behave like this. You had no clue what was going on, but your gut told you to take her seriously this time. She let out a sigh of relief and then opened the front door. With one last look back at you she said, “Whatever you do, don’t let them have it.” Then without another word she took off running out into the empty quiet streets of the city. Alarmed you called after her, “Who’s them?” Alice didn’t stop or answer she just ran down the long narrow street and turned the corner; disappearing completely out of your sight. You stood in the doorway looking down at the expensive looking ring nestled inside it’s special container. Wondering at the craftsmanship of such a thing you put the wooden top back on and sealed it. You turned the thing over and over in your hands and couldn’t find a single seam that revealed there was any kind of hidden catch to open it. It looked completely like just a pretty wooden cylinder with a lock code on the bottom. Sighing, you put the cylinder in your jeans pocket and looked up out into the street again as you began closing the door, but just as you were about to close it you heard an ear-shattering feminine scream. Your stomach dropped when you recognized it as Alice’s voice.  

“Alice!” you yelled out into the brisk night air as you sprinted out the door in the direction she had gone earlier. The streets were still slick and wet from the previous rain fall, but you dashed through the pockets of puddles without a second thought. You ran down empty alleyways trying your best to navigate through the labyrinth of city streets. Another scream ripped through the air and it sounded close. You took off to your right, as fast as you could. As soon as you rounded the corner you saw Alice being stuffed into the back of a white van by men in black suits. You cried out to her as you moved as fast as your legs could take you.  Just as you got closer the van sped off and rounded the nearest corner. You thoughtlessly chased after it as fast as you could, but it wasn’t soon before long that it had sped off out of sight.  

You stopped and watched it go in despair. As you were catching your breath for a few seconds you heard the sound of clipped footsteps behind you. You turned to see an older man, perhaps in his older forties, early fifties walking your way with a long black cane. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored and ironed white suit, with a slate grey tie and blazer. He had long white hair pulled back into two long white ponytails at the back of his head that trailed all the way down his back. He had an air of sophistication that added to his perfectly polished look. “I’m afraid she’s gone,” he said revealing an upper-crust British accent.  

“Who are you?” you demanded as he came closer. He began to slowly circle you as he replied smoothly in a refined voice, “A friend of Alice’s. I’m here to help her.” You began walking in a circle yourself, matching his footsteps with your own, and keeping the older gentleman in front of you at all times. “Then why didn’t you?” you asked keeping your eyes locked on his and tensing your body for a fight. “Who were those guys?” The older gentleman continued to circle you as he answered, “Alice took something that didn’t belong to her. We need it back.” The older man’s voice was as smooth and slick as the wet street you were standing on. He stopped circling and instead stood directly in front of you, meeting your gaze with his clear grey one. “What are you talking about?” you insisted as you got a closer look at the man. You noticed he had a white rabbit logo pinned to the lapel of his jacket. Although this man had all the appearance of someone trustworthy you got a very bad feeling from him. You knew instantly he was talking about the ring Alice had given you earlier of course and remembering her warning about not letting anyone have it, you casually slipped it from your pocket in the palm of your hand and held your arms behind your back. The man didn’t seem to notice this and kept on talking. “The ring, (your name).” He held out his left hand. You kept on talking as you discreetly began to push down and unlock the hidden catch. “How do you know my name? Where have you taken Alice?” you demanded. The older man in front of you remained still and calmly said, “She’s quite safe.” You backed up a step and said angrily, “Then bring her back and let her tell me herself.” The old man’s face never changed as he said, “I’m afraid she’s got to go back with me to face charges.” You had just gotten the spring on the box to open, unfortunately the mechanical noise was audible and the old man heard it as well. You looked up and noticed his grey eyes had gone cold and sharp. You slipped the ring onto your finger quickly as he growled, “So you do have it!”  

The old man lunged for you quicker than you would have given him credit for, and he grabbed hold of your arm in an iron grip. “No!” you yelled as you used his weight to your advantage and pulled onto the lapels of his blazer. His weight made it hard for him to stop the forward motion and you dodged his lumbering figure and it sent him careening into the brick of the building behind you. He used his cane to quickly regain his balance and turned around to face you. “Where are you taking Alice?” you demanded as you used your arms to push the old man back into the wall. He grabbed your arms and twisted you into a hold where your arms were held tightly to your chest by his cane and your back was pushed against his chest. The scuffle had sent the ring box in your hand tumbling down onto the wet street. As it began rolling down the empty alley, the old man pushed you away and began sprinting after the wooden cylinder. You fell to the dirty wet street and the impact and bits of gravel stung your outstretched hands. You regained your footing quickly though and saw that the old man in the suit was running down the street. You immediately began chasing him, dodging in and out of deserted back alleyways. He was faster than any old man you had ever seen before, but you managed to keep him within your sights.    

“Wait!” you called after him as he darted into a nearby abandoned factory building. You followed after him with your heartbeat in your ears and your breath straining against your ribs. You were not made for this level of long distance running. “Stop!” you yelled at him as he vanished down a hallway and out of your sight. You chased after his trail until you came to a set of industrial stairs. You heard his heavy footsteps clanking from somewhere higher above and even though you wanted nothing more than to stop and take a breather for a couple of seconds you forced yourself to go up the stairs and move through the pain in your chest. When you reached the top and rounded a corner he was once again back within your sights. He ran forward towards the far edge of the room, but there was no place to go and no place to hide. The only thing in the room was an old giant gold gilded mirror. You had him trapped now, or so you thought, but as you watched the old man never even slowed down as he literally ran right into the mirror and disappeared. He was gone!  

Distracted and disbelieving at what you had just seen you hadn’t noticed you were still running right for the mirror. You planted your feet and tried to stop, but the momentum was too much and it carried you further until you came crashing face first towards the mirror. You held your arms out to brace for impact, but it never came. Instead you felt a feeling similar to that of being swallowed up in a heavy curtain and then suddenly you were falling.      

To be continued…

Author’s Notes: So here is my twist on the SyFy mini-series Alice, which is a modern adaptation of Alice In Wonderland & Alice Through The Looking Glass. For the record the Alice in this story is not a little girl she is 19 and she is not the same Alice from the SyFy series as most of you could tell. I decided to base her off of the original Alice for plot purposes. (It will make more sense when we get farther into the story.) I will be changing around other things as well to make it a more unique story. I just reached 100 watchers which might not seem like a lot to some people here on DA, but to me is a HUGE accomplishment! Last July I believe it was, I decided to write a lemon on here just for kicks and to see if even 1 person would like it. I remember how excited I was just to get a fav back then and how I freaked out if I got one comment. I feel like I have come so far since then. I have met some wonderful people here on DA and even have a few amazingly talented watchers who have created fanart inspired by my stories. I still cherish each and every fav/comment/and watch and I can’t tell you how much the support from you guys have given me confidence. I always have tons of ideas for stories that just pop into my head but I used to think “What’s the point of writing them down when nobody cares?” But with the help of you guys here on DA I no longer tell myself that.  Now when I have an idea I jot down everything I can and think “I can’t wait to see what people will think about this one!” My entire outlook on writing has changed and it is all thanks to all of you wonderful people! Words really cannot express how much you all have given me. I don’t plan on stopping updating my other series any time soon, but I hope you all understand that the chapters may not come out as fast as they used to. Still I hope you all continue to stick with me!
Much love to you all,

:iconomfgbunnyplz: OMFG!!! 100 WATCHERS?!! SERIOUSLY?!!

In honor of this momentous achievement for me I decided to go ahead and start writing a new series that I have wanted to do for awhile now. This is actually my first non-lemon series so people of all ages can read it. I still intend to keep going with my other two current series, but I wanted to do something different and special for this occasion. I hope that you guys will like it! I never thought reaching 100 watchers was even possible for me. Reaching this goal is such an honor and I love and thank all of you! Please continue to watch my works!

:iconboombabyplz: Woot! Brand new series baby!

Haters gonna hate. :iconhaterstotheleftplz:

Alice In Wonderland characters belong to Lewis Carroll while the world of Alice belongs to SyFy.
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"What if he eats my legs?” A five year old Jack peers over the edge of his bed, trembling hard enough to make the mattress shake.

Jackie exhales and looks across the room at her twin brother. She’s told him millions upon millions of times not to keep her awake when she’s trying to sleep. Her eyes squint at the nightlight her brother has plugged into the outlet between their beds, casting elongated shadows on the ceiling of their room that remind him of the monster.

Jackie whispers into the dark, “Put your legs to your chest then.”

“But I can’t sleep like that,” Jack whines, “It makes my legs funny!”  

“You gots to sleep!”

Jack slowly sits up in bed, clinging to his baby blanket. “I-I can't. I can't here.”

“I can't sleep with your nightlight!” With a huff, Jackie throws her blankets off her body, stomps hard across the floor, and yanks the nightlight straight out of its socket, and throws it into the closet. 

The room goes dark.

HEY! I need that!” Jack’s screeching in his pitchy voice, trying to feel around in the darkness for his sister. He stumbles and trips over the line of stuffed animals dividing the room. He always hated that line; Jackie wanted her own room, but had to settle for a shared room with her brother because he was always too afraid to sleep by himself. So, to take matters into her own hands, Jackie set up a boundary line to let him know that even though they shared a room, half of it belonged to her, and the other half belonged to him—but mostly her, she sometimes tells him.

“You don’t need it! Don't be a baby!”

“No! Now he’ll get me! He’ll eat me!” Tears begin to roll down Jack’s cheeks as he manages to pull himself back into bed.

“Don't be a baby,” Jackie repeats. She assembles herself back under the covers of her own bed and narrows her eyes at Jack’s figure in the dark. “I'd protect you from a stupid Boogeymananyhow." She shifts a little and snuggles her face into her pillow. 

"Y-You would?" Jack asks, wiping at his face. 

"Uh-huh." She lets out a yawn. "'Course I would. You're my brudder."

Jack lays in bed wiping at his face, and wiping his nose on his sleeve, trying to calm himself with her words. Out of his three friends—his sister included—Jackie had to be the bravest one he had ever known. And the bravest sister, he swore on it. 

"Kids." A figure appears at the doorway. "It's alright in here? I heard yells." 

Jackie turns in bed. "Yep, Grandma. It's okay. Jack was just being a scaredy." 

"Scare-ready?" She asks with her broken English.

"He was scared." 

"Scare?" She asks, taking a couple steps into the room. "Scare of what?" 

"The Boogeyman." Jack answers with a sniffle.

"Boogeyman isn't real." Their grandmother sits on the edge of his bed and leans over to tuck him in. 

Jack lays back and looks up at her round face, her graying hair pulled back tightly into a bun atop her head. He watches as she pulls the blanket over his body and he makes out the features of her face as his vision adjusts—a pair of dark eyes, the sudden arch of her eyebrows, and the nose that his mother inherited.

"Is Mommy coming home soon?" Jack asks in a tiny voice. 

"Soon," his grandmother agrees. "She is working late." 

"What about Daddy?" 

His grandmother stops tucking him in for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed a little. 

Jackie turns over to look at them; the silence caught her attention and she waits, listening with wide eyes and open ears. She knew something was wrong even though her young mind didn't quite grasp it yet. Lately she would notice that certain expression her grandmother would make whenever Jack and Jackie's father was mentioned. 

Her voice is flat. "He works late. Very late. He'll be here in the morning." Their grandmother doesn't make eye contact and she gets up from the bed. "When your mother arrives I will go home." 

"We love you, Gramma," Jack and Jackie say. 

Their grandmother closes the door behind her without a word, leaving them in the pitch dark. 

There were many things Jack understood at the tender age of five, but this was not one of them.


She walks in with keys in hand, spotting her mother sitting in an armchair upright and very awake. With the front door closed behind her, she takes a couple steps toward the old woman and bows her head slightly. 

Her mother, however, doesn't return the gesture and stiffly gets up from the chair and slowly, agonizingly brushes past her daughter. "Tomorrow at 12:00? Again, Jiya?" Her mother asks, heading straight for the door after grabbing her purse. 

"Yes," she says. Her back is to her mother and she can feel her eyes droop with the weight of exhaustion. 

She waits for the click of the door; her mother leaves without a goodbye. 

Tiredly, Jiya lowers herself down into a chair and daintily pulls at her worn shoes, feeling that there's blisters forming on her feet. She bites down on her bottom lip and tucks her chin against her chest; her hair falls over her face as she eases the shoe off her foot and muffles small cries of pain. She wants to soak her feet, but she knows that she needs to check the kids first. It's always been her priority. She's always hated that she couldn't be the one to tuck them in at night. 

Very slowly and very gently, she pulls on socks and walks to the end of the hallway, trying her hardest to be light on her feet. Immediately, she notices that one bed is stripped bare, while the other is occupied. Not again, she thinks. Calmly, she rubs her forehead and maneuvers around the clutter that’s on the floor and the line of stuffed animals dividing the room. She sighs because she knows exactly what has happened once she sees a light shining from underneath the closet door.

She sits down cross-legged outside the doorway. “Honey?”

The light from underneath the door flickers a little. “Mommy,” The voice is so tiny and scared. “He was trying to get me.”

“I know, sweet pea.” She places a delicate hand on the closet. “Can you open the door?”

There’s a long and lonely pause. “He’s still out there.”

She slowly gazes around the dark room in search of the monster for the sake of her son—and maybe for the sake of herself; sometimes it gets to her, especially when it’s just the three of them at home. When it’s just the two little ones and herself, that is. “Jack, I don’t think he’s here.”

“He is.” There’s no pause this time.

“Sweetie,” She knocks very lightly on the closet door and asks, “How about you let me in, please?”

He shifts something around before answering. “Okay.” 

She slowly cracks open the closet door and closes it behind her once she nestles in beside him. He’s made a nest out of his blankets and pillows, the nightlight his sister threw into the closet now plugged into the oddly placed outlet.

He immediately crawls over to her and flops down into her lap so he can press his face into her side. “Are you sure he isn’t out there?”

“I’m very sure.” She tiredly smiles and tousles his hair.

He tries to stop shaking. “I saw him though.”


“Under the bed.” He sniffles and gathers all of his blankets into a bundle on her lap.

She attentively strokes his back. “Would you like me to go check?”

He doesn’t move.

“Jack?” She asks. 

A small murmur of agreement sounds from his hidden face.

Very carefully, she eases herself out of the closet and walks over to his bed. She’s a little hesitant at first, but she kneels down and holds her breath. The room abruptly lights up and she gasps a little when she turns to look over at the window; someone is just driving down the street, the headlights from the car shining through the curtains like they’re searching for her. A sigh of relief passes her lips as she peers underneath the bed, squinting her hardest to see if there really is anything there. All that resides is a stuffed animal and a forgotten sock that has been missing for weeks.

She grabs the sock and places it on his bare mattress before settling back down in the closet next to him.

“Did you see him?”

She shakes her head. “No, honey. He isn't there.”

He looks up at her with a broken expression, his green eyes huge in the dull light of the closet, beckoning her to believe what he swears he saw under his bed. She knows that he will continue doing this until he overcomes the fear—which she’s hoping is soon.

"Gramma says the Boogeyman isn't real." Jack tugs on her sleeve a little and urges, "But I saw him. I did." 

"Shadows, sweetie." Jiya holds him closer to her. "You're tired and you're seeing shadows from outside." 

"No," He urges again, his foot hitting hers as he shifts in her lap. 

She cringes and takes in a sharp breath. 

Jack stops and looks up at her with wide eyes. "Mom?"

She eases and her face softens once more. 

"Did . . . d-did he get your foot?" His bottom lip quivers as he reaches down and gently rubs it. 

"No, honey." Jiya smiles down at him, her eyes getting glassy. "He didn't get my foot."

"W-What's wrong with it? Why's it hurt you?" 

She thinks of all the times her little boy would come running to her with a cut or a bruise after playing outside on the weekends when she was home. He would ask her to help it with a Band-aid and believed that the kisses would make it feel better. He believed in the properties of the kisses just as much as he believed in the Boogeyman that prowled beneath the beds, and lied in wait in the darkness.

Carefully, she pulls off one of her socks and lets him see the blisters and sores that are beginning to form on her dainty feet.

He stares at them with wide eyes, his little eyebrows knitting together, and a small pout set upon his baby face. "They hurt," he says, gently wrapping his arms around her foot in an embrace. 

Jiya feels her eyes sting as she holds back tears. "They do," she agrees, nodding a little. 

Jack lifts his head and looks up at her, looking concerned—too concerned for a little boy his age. "C-Can I sleep in your bed? . . . so I can protect you from the Boogeyman?" He thinks back to his sister.

"You would protect me from the Boogeyman?" She asks, her voice soft and nearly laced with tears. 

"'Course I would," Jack says with what he thinks is the bravest smile he can muster. "You're my mommy." 

- - - 

She hears someone opening the front door; she looks over at her clock and sees that it's 3:45 in the morning. Curled up beside her is her son who swore he would do his best to protect her from the Boogeyman. 

With her head swimming, she reaches beneath the bed and pulls out a bat. She eases into the hallway, ready to swing if she needs to, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Her jaw clenches when she sees that the front door's closed, but now the sounds are coming from the darkness in the kitchen. Fearfully, she glances down at her newly bandaged feet before rushing in, swinging the bat. 

He's fast though—or maybe she's just too tired—and he grips the baseball bat before it hits anywhere other than his hefty palm. Her eyes widen, but she can't see anything as he grabs for her and drops the weapon before pulling her towards him. She tries her hardest to push away, and she's close to tears until he pulls her into a hug.

Her body quakes and trembles, and she lets out a fearful whimper before embracing him. "G-God, I-I was going to . . . to hit you!"

He doesn't say a word; he rubs her back apologetically. 

"You scared me!" She's becoming hysterical. "I-I thought s-someone h-had picked t-the lock!" 

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. 

"Y-You'd better be!" She starts shoving at him again, trying to get away, feeling flustered and upset. She can't help but curse over and over again in the foreign language that her own mother is more comfortable speaking in than English.   

"Shh, shh," He rubs at her back and lets her shove and curse at him, hunching over to rest his forehead on her shoulder. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

She stops, her body giving off a little tremble here and there as she buries her face into his chest. "I-I thought you said you'd be here i-in the morning."

He's silent.

"Jeevan," she whispers. 

He takes in a long breath. "They let me go."

"What?" She asks, pulling her head away from his chest. 

"They fired me," he says, shaking his head against her shoulder. "God, I-I can't stay awake with three jobs and-and I don't get to see you or the kids and—"

She shushes him and holds him tight. "I-I know, I know." 

Jeevan lifts his head and stares down at her with bloodshot eyes. 

"It's okay," she assures him, "You don't need it." Her hand reaches up and strokes the dark circles beneath his eyes. "You need sleep."

Defeated, his eyes wander down to her bandaged feet and he lifts her up into his arms. She quietly argues against it—that he's too tired—but he insists and takes her down the hall to their room where their son is sleeping soundly in the middle of the bed. Tiredly, they smile and lay down beside him, reaching over to gently stroke his hair. 

"He was afraid of the Boogeyman," she says, her head resting on her pillow, her eyes still open. 

"Again?" He asks, already beginning to nod off. 

"Again," she agrees, looking back at her son. "My mom will be here to watch the kids at noon tomorrow, unless my father wants to see them. Then I guess she would take them back to their house." 

Jeevan's eyes open a little more and he thinks for a moment, his forehead creased. 

"This week is almost over," she says softly. "We're almost there. Please don't worry." 

"It's not the week that I'm worried about." There's an edge in his voice beneath the tired hum of his throat. "I'm worried about what they're doing to our kids." 

She sighs and reaches over to hold his large hand in her tiny one. "They don't do anything wrong and you know it."

Jeevan doesn't say a word and looks down at their hands.

"My mother teaches them Japanese and the kids always talk about how fun it is to wander around in the garden maze and look at all of the flowers." She gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And sometimes my father takes them to the museums." 

He exhales and stares up at the ceiling, his body stiff with exhaustion. 

"Sometimes the maids will bring their children along, so the kids have friends to play with." She's trying to assure him, but he isn't buying it; he never does. 

His eyes narrow. "And sometimes I feel like they're easing their way into just . . . taking them from us." 

She stares at him. "What?"

"Your parents can tell them anything." Jeevan swallows hard. "What if they convince the kids that living with them is better?"

"Are you listening to yourself right now?" She asks. "You're talking about brainwash and bribery." 

Jeevan sits up and looks down at her, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched tightly, waiting for her to see—waiting for her to realize. She's in denial, he thinks. She has to be.

She sits up too and stares back at him, her normally soft face hard in the dark. 

"Between you and me," he says, his voice deep and steady. "I think we both remember a time where that's happened before."

It's silent and she looks away, pressing her hand to her face; she doesn't want to remember, not after how hard she's tried to forget. Over and over again she's tried convincing herself that her parents were only doing what's best—even if it didn't seem like they had the best intentions. All of her life they've guided her into a direction where they guaranteed happiness and success, even when she felt it wasn't what she wanted to do. 

The violin and piano lessons? Great, they were lovely. But then she recalls her summer days where her mother would make her practice for hours straight until she played it near perfection. Until she was in tears and her fingers wouldn't bend, her mother would let her stop, still convinced that she hadn't tried hard enough. 

She hasn't touched the white and black keys or the metal strings since then. 

She remembers the times where her parents wouldn't let her associate herself with "lower-class" men and anyone that could be a bad influence. She remembers how she had few friends because of this and often times couldn't introduce them to her parents because they wouldn't approve. She hated being secretive and sometimes dishonest to her parents by having these friends, but she hated being alone much, much more. 

What she hated most, however, was feeling like a failure in the eyes of her parents. 

His face softens. "I'm sorry," he says, reaching out to her. "I just . . ." 

He decides to drop the subject and change it to the one that's always tormenting him—the one that he's thinking about everyday, the one that he thinks about right before he falls asleep and just after he wakes up. Sometimes it's the one that's in his dreams too, and he hates those, especially because he can't stop them; he has to wait until he wakes in a cold sweat, feeling like he didn't get a minute's worth of sleep. "I don't think they'll ever like me . . . and I don't think they'll ever forgive you." 

Her head meets the pillow; she knew this was coming.

"God, it's been five years." His face rests in the curve of his elbow. "What the hell do they want us to do? Go back in time?"

She shakes her head.

"W-We can't even find the courage to tell them we're engaged." His voice firms and he turns onto his back to glare at the ceiling. "They won't approve of it, even with the kids."

"Jeevan," she says, but she can't grasp any other words.

"I-It's like they don't even want me to be around my own kids." 

"I wouldn't go that far." She bites her bottom lip and stares at him worriedly. 

"Admit it," he says with his frown falling apart at the seams. "They would've treated me the same way if I left you with them. They would be happy."

Her eyes shut. 

"But I'm here." He turns on his side to look at her and reaches over to gently stroke her cheek. "God, I'm here because I want to be; I'm here because I love you guys, and starting today I don't give a damn what your parents think of us." 

She peeks at him and his young face, and overworked, calloused hands. She leans into his touch. 

"They can hate me all they want." His fingers weave through her dark hair. "But they can't touch a single hair on any of your heads." 

Groggily, a small voice asks, "The monsters?" 

They look down at their son who's squinting at the dark. "Now that Daddy's here, you'll be safe, Mommy." 

She smiles and strokes his hair. "And you'll be safe too," she agrees. 

"Mom," a voice calls from the open door. "I had a nightmare."

She motions her daughter to come to the bed. "You did?" 

Their daughter heaves a sigh and her dark hair falls over her shoulder as she climbs up onto the mattress. "Uh-huh." 

"But you never get nightmares," her brother insists. "You're not scared of nothing." 

"Everyone's afraid of something, Sweetie." Their mother strokes their heads as they snuggle up between the parents. 

"Even you and Daddy?" He asks. 

Her face is soft and she thinks of how afraid she used to be—how afraid she is now after all that's happened, but she can't help but feel that her life can only get better now that she's finally starting to pave her own way and leave her own monsters behind her. She has all the plans laid out and now she just needs to find the rest of her courage and make her endless road with her new family. 

"Even me and Daddy," she says with a smile. 

I've been on a writing kick lately. This is an older story; I wrote a couple paragraphs months ago and left it, but then I came back to it and made it go in a different direction. D8

This might give some of you a little insight on not only Jack and Jackie's past, but more of their parents. Jack and Jackie spent a lot of their time with their over-controlling grandparents when they were really young because their parents were working their butts off. :noes:

I'm working on a deeper backstory for Jiya and Jeevan when they were younger and fell in love, but that ultimately pissed off Jiya's parents because, well . . . Jeevan's not on the same "level" as they are. But, nonetheless, they managed to get around all of that and now they have to face her parent's ugly grudge. D8

I think this was more of a test than anything. I just . . . really wanted to write something. A lot of you might not exactly understand it. I'm trying to get into a consistent writing style. :XD:

I've also decided that Jack and Jackie aren't going to be at each other's throats anymore. When I originally wrote this, Jackie was A LOT MEANER to Jack. She was calling him ugly and was throwing pillows and stuffed animals at him. Pfft. I mean, sure, siblings get annoyed with each other, but considering that they didn't have very many friends growing up (especially at the age they are here), they should be more attached to each other. Especially since they're twins. Pfft. So when they're older I think they'll have more of a bond. Like, Jackie'll help her brother with girl advice or something. Who knows. :rofl:

Jack and Jackie's grandmother (Jiya's mom) isn't a very loving lady. D:

Feedback is appreciated. :iconohstopityouplz: <--I can't get over this face
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November 14th, 2008
It started off innocent enough, didn't it?

She doesn't look at me. She won't make eye contact and she holds her breath and glares when I walk past her. It's like she's a different person. Or even like she's pretending to be a different person, so I'll stop trying to approach her and apologize.

And yet it ends so badly.

Nikki and I still talk. We talk because we only have each other to talk to about this. No one else knows what happened, and we won't tell. Casey won't either. I know she won't. She never liked drama, just like Nikki and I don't. The "trio of epicness" doesn't promote drama, and it's for the best.

But even now as I sit stiffly beside Nikki in class and we talk at a whisper, my mind is racing and clawing, and screeching loudly in confusion as I try to push all the feelings back. All the feelings I have for her need to be pushed aside for now, but they won't budge. They sit like heavy weights at the back of my skull and they know they aren't going anywhere. They're cozying up and melting into my brain and trying to take control—no, they have control; they've had control for awhile now and they make sure to pound it into my mindset, one feeling at a time.

I've had practice though. I've dealt with these feelings for almost two years now, and even though all the mental pain is turned into physical pain and the aching is almost unbearable, I kept it a secret. I kept all of it a secret for so long—too long from my best friend.

At first I wondered why all those feelings didn't just disappear after a couple weeks, or maybe even a couple months, but then I realized it wasn't because it was some stupid crush. Sure, I forced them out of my head for a little while, but it didn't do any good though. It just made things worse if anything.

And now she knows. She knows all about it, and it turns out she felt the same exact way. We were both too afraid to tell each other, and Nikki was already in a relationship at the time. We messed up. Both of us did. And I dragged Casey along with us.

"How are we going to apologize to her?" Nikki is quiet, she's hushed, and she's scared.

Yeah, how are we going to apologize to her, Jack?

"Nikki, I don't know." I stare at her in the dark of the classroom, and moving pictures flicker in her eyes; our history class is watching some kind of documentary on some war from some land, and some people are disagreeing on whatever it is they're disagreeing on, just like every other stupid person involved in something as stupid as this. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

A gunshot from the screen makes everyone jolt in their seats, even the kids who were dozing off and skipping out on their note taking. Take notes, Mr. Goldsmith always says, we'll be taking a quiz over this video. But we never do. We never have, and I don't think we ever will.

Okay, documentary, we know that history repeats itself; I can't hear Nikki. Be quiet.

History repeats itself.

My eyes wander to the screen and I watch as soldiers scramble across the field to avoid heavy fire, and some of them are pelted. It's all a reenactment, a little cheesy too, but it makes me wonder though. No, it makes me think about how stupid people are, and how stupid people think other people are stupid. Everyone's stupid, Jack. Especially you; you're the stupidest—hands down. You're a jerk. You're a douche. What kind of asshole would do what you did?  

How many people have done what I have done? And how many people will continue doing it?  

Beside me, Nikki's lips move with soft words, but all I hear are the gunshots.

November 20th, 2008
I'm tapping the end of my pencil against my desk quickly and a bit loudly as if I'm trying to catch her attention from across the room. She doesn't budge though, and I wonder if she knows that's what I'm subconsciously doing. If this whole thing hadn't happened, I think that she would be tapping her pencil back, almost like we were communicating through Morse code, even though neither of us knows any of it. Just the fact that we were acknowledging each other would be more than enough.  

Several people in my class turn in their seats and tell me to stop tapping my pencil, please, it's annoying.

But she doesn't. She still doesn't move, and she sits stiffly in her chair.

I tap the end of my pencil louder and louder against my desk, and people let out irritated groans as they work on their homework or whatever the hell it is we're supposed to be working on, but dear god she won't move and at least glance in my direction and tell me, "Stop it, Jack. Stop tapping your pencil, that's really irritating. A raven is in no way, shape, or form like a writing desk, so stop tapping your pencil against the damn thing. Just stop."

Casey, just look at me. Glare at me, yell at me, hate me, just please let me know that I still exist. Let me know that I'm at least a person in your eyes—a low, disgusting, idiotic, betraying person that—

"Mr. Moore."

My pencil slips out of the space between my index finger and thumb; it hits the floor and skitters across the room. I slowly and reluctantly lift my head and stare up at my teacher who is in no way amused. He twists his mouth to the side, eyes me, and then at my misplaced pencil.

"Let's try not to distract everyone else, okay? I'm sure you didn't mean to."

Oh, but I did. I really did. I'm desperate and utterly pathetic.

But she still didn't look at me.

December 1st, 2008
It's freezing out, but there's no snow. Not yet. Everything outside is dead though, but not half as dead as I feel knowing how much of a coward I am. I hate myself; I hate myself for morphing and crushing and forcing her into being this completely different girl, and I hate myself for stabbing all of the trust she gave me straight into her back.  

My head rears back and I fall forward onto the frozen ground. I exhale and my breath hisses through my clenched teeth. Pain surges through the back of my skull and it takes me a minute to realize something hit me.

One bright blue Converse sits on its side beside me. The laces are undone and there's a bright yellow smiley face sticker stuck to the sole of the shoe that's begging to be peeled off. It stares at me with its black lifeless eyes and its big, stupid goofy smile that reminds me too much of my own—a broken smile that's been neglected and deserves to be neglected until everything is fixed.  

Carefully, I start getting back up to my feet and reach down for the shoe.


I stop; my fingers twitch and won't reach. I'm stuck there and I won't look at her. Her voice is stern and taut and I know she won't break. This time she's focused and she's angry, so she will not break—not this time.

But you will, Jack.

My head turns to look over my shoulder, but my body doesn't move. Casey stands there holding up her other shoe in a throwing stance, and both of her brightly socked feet are easy to spot on the cold ground.

You will break over and over again, Jack.

Now my temples pound as I stare at her and feel the bump on the back of my head start to swell in the malformed shape of the bottom of a shoe—her shoe.  

You will break until you've fixed this.

There is no laughter, no joking (How is a raven like a writing desk?), no rambling on about what we would do if we were stranded on a deserted island—she's serious. And dear god, she's intimidating when she's pissed off. Maybe not as intimidating as my sister when she's pissed off, but I've never even seen Casey angry, let alone intimidating.  

And even after you've fixed this, you will continue breaking.

"Casey," my voice is soft, "I didn't ever mean to—"

"Don't, please don't. I'm supposed to be angry but," she shakes her head and swallows hard, "dear freaking god I don't want to be angry."

I bite the inside of my cheek and try to hold my words back. "Then don't be."

She stares, and she grips her shoe firmly, like she might the handle of a gun. "I can't. I don't even know how I—how I'm even looking at you right now."

Casey says that she is, but her eyes are averted. She isn't looking straight at me, but past me, towards the wall—our haven, the hideout. Everything else besides me is fine to look at.  

Above us, the sky is overcast and I tilt my head back a little so I can stare. I'm not sure how I can bear to look at her too after what I've done.

"Something like this was bound to happen to me, huh?" Now her hand that is holding the shoe is trembling a little.

No, Casey. Something like this wasn't bound to happen to you. I'm just an idiot, and just like you told me, I should have told you no. I never should have let my feelings wander and grab hold of you when I couldn't have Nikki. That wasn't fair for you, not in the slightest.

I swallow hard, and I watch as the clouds shift. My lips don't move, and I don't make a sound.

"I just don't understand you, Jack!"

And I don't expect you to. I'm a coward.

She takes in a deep channel of air and she holds it for a few moments before speaking again. "Why would you ever waste your time on something that never meant anything to you? You could have been all, 'Oh, Casey, I'm sorry. I see you more as a friend.'"

I slowly shake my head and she frowns a little. "Jack, just say something."

"Casey," it's a pathetic whisper, "I'm sorry."

From the corner of my eye I see her force a smile and it sounds like her throat constricts. "Do you even know how much this hurts right now? I don't want to sound like one of those girls from those stupid teen drama shows, but," she chews on her lower lip a little, "now I understand why they bitch so much about guys breaking their hearts. It sucks."

My stomach churns, the pressure in my chest builds, and I let myself wince. I wince wholeheartedly at the sky because it's the one thing I know we still share. I squeeze my fist at my side fitfully and so regrettably when I refuse to look at her.

Her face hardens and her voice rises. "Jack, no one wants to be the pity date!"

You weren't a pity date. I swear to god you weren't.

"And no one wants to be cheated on. That's freaking worse than being single and you know it."

Just hit me, please. Casey, just throw the other shoe at my face. Get it over with, okay? If it makes you feel better I'm all for it. Honestly, I don't care what you need to do to feel better because I don't know how to do it myself; my apologies aren't good enough, you've proved that to me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Casey. The more I apologize the more it probably means nothing to you.

"I miss it, you know?"

Miss what?

"I miss being friends, but I still kind of love y—"

She stops midsentence. My eyes slowly wander over to her and I see that her face has drawn a blank, she's unsure, and her normally stark blue eyes are dark and lost, like they're drowning in the gray liquid of sky above us. She stares at nothing with those eyes. She always stares at nothing when she's in thought, in her own little world, and I know that she's trying to interpret what she was about to say: that she still kind of loves me.

No, Casey, you don't love me. I think you love the concept of loving someone. Or you just love knowing that someone might feel the same about you too. And someone out there will feel the same about you.

Her face crumples up and she muffles a short scream of distress like she couldn't even believe she'd actually consider loving me. Casey's arm swings back and before I can flinch, her left shoe hits me; it hits me directly in the face, and deep down I'm glad that it does, even though it hurts like hell.

We both stagger; I go backwards, she goes forwards from the momentum. But as soon as we catch our footing, she takes off. Casey's running away yelling and berating herself and maybe me too, and she leaves me standing there in a complete daze with her shoes and the smiley face sticker that's still smiling that stupid goofy grin at me.

December 2nd, 2008
"She threw her shoes at you?"

I smile very faintly when Nikki reaches up and gently strokes the pale skin around my black eye. She's careful not to touch it and she holds her breath as she stares up at me with a hurt expression.

"Sounds like something she would do, isn't it?" I swallow hard and my smile fades away.

"I . . . guess so." She won't stop staring and she looks really guilty.

The hallway starts to empty as students go to their next class, but we stand stiffly in the hallway, not very eager to go to lunch. How can we be? Casey sits on the other side of the cafeteria with people she normally wouldn't hang out with, even though she pretty much talks to everyone.  Hell, she's sat with my sister at lunch before, and I honestly don't know how she stands it.

"She wouldn't even look at me. I'm surprised she even talked to me. I mean, she was angry, but still. I stood there like an idiot."

Nikki tilts her head a little and her brown eyes soften. "I haven't even seen her, Jack. She doesn't trust me . . . and she's my best friend, but she hates me."  

"Well, she can't hate us . . . forever."

I wouldn't blame you if you did, Casey.

She leans against the lockers and presses the side of her head against them.

"And where . . . does this leave us, Nikki?"

Nikki doesn't stir.

"Nikki?" My voice is strained and I already know what she will say.

Gently, she rubs her arm and stares at the floor. "We can't be together right now. It wouldn't be right, Jack."

I know, I know, but don't say it. Don't say it like that. I know it wouldn't be right. It would be so wrong and ugly. And I don't want it to be that way. If we ever end up together it can't be something like that.

My teeth claw at the inside of my cheek and the heel of my palm presses against my forehead, trying so hard to murder and smash it into my skull. Just below it, my black eye stings and it's hard to see when it's so swollen.

". . . but I do want to be together. It's just now isn't the right time, okay?" She glances up at me, and looks like she tries to offer a small smile, but nothing comes of it. It's just a concerned stare, one a friend would give to another. It's like we're at square one again, only we're both aware of our situation this time, but we don't know how to fix it.

"Yeah, I want to be together too." I feel like an ass for saying it, but I do want to be together. That's all I've wanted.

"We're just going to have to wait then." Gently, she wraps her arms around me and leans against my chest. She's so small and for a moment I admire her and hug back.

I lean down a little so our faces are closer together. "I'll try talking to her again after school."

"Jack," she lifts her head a little and I can feel her breathe against my face, "maybe you should wait a little longer."

"I can't wait anymore. And besides," I gesture to my locker, "I have to give back her shoes."

She glances over at the locker and sighs. "Okay."


At the end of the day I find Nikki waiting at her locker for me with her coat and gloves on. Once I gather up my backpack and Casey's shoes I turn to her. "You have to go with me this time."

She shifts uneasily. "I do?"

"Yeah. Nikki, I can't really do this alone . . . and you're sorry too, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

I smile a little. "Well, come on then."

Nikki adjusts her messenger bag on her shoulder and looks unsure. I don't blame her, but now that I've already been pelted by a pair of shoes I guess I can't really be anymore humiliated and hurt. Unless maybe Casey decides to throw her next pair of shoes at me. And, by all means, she probably should.

She's pacing on the wall and waving her arms around enthusiastically—angrily. It isn't until Nikki and I come closer that we realize she's talking to herself. It brings me back to August when we would talk to each other over the phone. She told me all about how she would have conversations with herself whenever she would have a problem. And, judging by how loudly and angrily she's conversing with herself, it's a big problem. A stupid problem that I caused.

Casey stops immediately when she notices us. Her shoulders slump and she abruptly plops down onto the wall and rests back against it. Only her legs dangle over the edge of the wall and we can't see her face, but I hear her sniffle a little; I'm not sure if she's starting to cry, or if it's because she has a cold—it's freezing out.

I give Nikki a quick look and I easily climb up the wall. I reach over and help her up. We all sit in silence before I look over at Casey, who now has her back turned to us. I guess it's her only defense right now. It's the only thing that's keeping her comfort, not looking at us, I mean. How can she look at us?

"C-Casey, we're sorry—" Nikki exhales and furrows her eyebrows, "No, augh, we've said that like, fifty times already."

Casey doesn't move.

"It's just really really complicated and we didn't mean for you to get caught up in our huge . . . mess." She sighs so wholly and I watch as her breath swirls out of her mouth and disappears.

"What even happened? I thought—" Casey's voice is a little muffled, "—I thought you still liked Drake . . . Nikki, you don't tell me anything anymore." Slowly, very slowly, she sits up and she stares at the side of my face where the bruise isn't visible. "And I guess you never did in the first place, Jack."

I swallow hard and avert my eyes.

"C-Casey, I'm sorry . . . I was in denial with myself, I guess. I really did like Jack, but I was already dating Drake, so," Nikki twiddles her thumbs, "I kept telling myself I didn't like him . . . and then Jack started dating you."

"So this is . . . my fault?" Casey turns to her and bites down on her lip.

"No, Casey, it's not your fault. It's just a . . . yeah, it's a big mess, and I got so jealous of you two. It made me realize how . . . I felt about him." She shakes her head and her hair falls down over her shoulder.

Casey sighs and looks away again. "See, this sucks. This is exactly why I shouldn't be in relationships."

"Hey," Nikki's voice firms a little and she scoots closer to her, "that is absolutely not true. I mean, think about it, Casey . . . this was your first relationship, and the first one usually . . . doesn't turn out too well."

"I know, Nikki, but this was different! He kissed you! My first-ever relationship and my boyfriend ends up loving my best friend."

They sit still for a moment, but they don't look at each other. The only noise that washes over us is the wind, and it whistles a high-pitch screech and makes the bare skeletons of the trees behind us sway dangerously to the left and then to the right. The nippy air makes me want to sway too, sway enough to lean towards Nikki and Casey. I feel like an outsider, even though I know them both so well. But I guess I still don't know them well enough.

"I just wanted to get my first relationship out of the way with a guy that wouldn't care." Casey furrows her eyebrows and frowns at the ground below us. "And then I could have dumped him, no problem when the time came. I wouldn't have cried or anything. Then I could tell people, "Oh, yeah, I've dated before. Kind of sucked, but I know the next one will be better."

I'm pained just listening to her, and the bump on the back of my head is beginning to hurt again.

"But then he—" Casey jabs her thumb in my direction "—came along and ruined it all."

I ruined it all; I ruined everything.

"He was just . . . so much like me. He understood me, Nikki." Her voice is strained, and I wonder if it's hard for her to look at Nikki, just like it's hard for her to look at me. "And I thought that maybe we would work out."

"You said . . . that you wanted to get your first relationship done and over with—" Nikki bites her bottom lip a little, "—and I'm not sure if it works that way, Casey."

"Yeah, well," Casey scoffs a bit, "what do you know?"

"I know that Jack and I have both had girlfriends and boyfriends before. We know that's not how it works." Nikki's voice is soft, and I know she doesn't want to upset Casey. She doesn't want her to react badly.

"Well, if YOU two know so much about relationships you should've just spilled your stupid-ass feelings for each other in the beginning like, like—" Casey's voice is breaking and she glares cold daggers at Nikki and me. "—normal freaking people or something! Isn't that what normal people do? Isn't IT? When you really like someone don't you admit your grossly lovesick feelings for each other? Huh?"

My eyes feel glossy as I sit there and I stare at her dumbly, Nikki just as quiet as I am beside me.

Yes, Casey. That's exactly what you do. Well, more like what most people want to do when they're crushing on someone, but since I was a coward, I didn't. A lot of people aren't like you are, Casey. A lot of people don't have the guts to spill all their feelings for someone else. A lot of people don't allow those feelings to go loose, and let them drench the floor and the whole wide world with a bloody, sickly, infatuation because . . . well because—  

"You were afraid."

Yeah, we were afraid, and still are afraid. We're afraid of how much we've hurt you.

Casey sucks in a sharp breath of air and she slumps down against the wall onto her side and her chest heaves. She heaves air in and air out in short, choppy breaths and Nikki and I listen to her cry.

"C-Casey," I reach over and gently touch her shoulder, "what do I have to do to make you feel better?"

She flinches at my touch and curls up into a ball in her coat.

"W-Would it make you feel better if you threw your shoes at me again? Or, better yet," very quickly, I pry off one of my red Converse and hold it out towards her back, "my shoes? They're a lot bigger, so they would hurt more."

I smile sheepishly, and so hopefully. It might be a pathetic attempt, but I don't know what to do. Sorry just isn't enough.

"Y-You can hit me too, Casey." Nikki rubs her arm uneasily.

Nikki and I watch as she sits up and wipes at her face. She turns around and takes my shoe into her hand and she looks up at me. She actually looks at my face and she sees my black eye and the tiny scrapes and the little purple bruises on my cheek, and for a split second—just a split one—it's like she can feel the pain in the back of my skull because her expression crumples and she squeezes her eyes shut so tightly and slumps forward against my chest and clings. She clings so hard to my coat and she lifts my size fourteen shoe above my head and gently lets it fall against the top of my hair. Then she reaches over and does the same to Nikki.

Hesitantly, I hold her and I let her weep against me until she decides to stop herself. Every once in a while she'll let out a small hiccup here and there and sniffle very softly to herself.

"W-We're so sorry, Casey."

Casey shakes her head against my coat and she manages a small smile. "I-I know, Nikki . . . I-I know you are. A-And I know that I can't stay mad forever, huh?" Slowly, she reaches over and she pulls Nikki into the hug too.

"Well, you could," I gently rub her back, "but I don't think you'd like that very much. It's not really like you, Case . . . and I'm not just saying that to get off the hook with this."

"I know. I know you aren't, Jack."

I don't know how long we all sit there just hugging each other, but all I know is that it's nice to feel like we're all okay again; I know there's still some things that need to be patched up and everything isn't truly fine, but it feels good to know that it can be like that soon.


"Yeah, Casey?"

"You better not forget this, but," she lifts her head and stares up at me, "you really owe me."

"And what is it exactly that I owe you?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know."

I smile a little. "That sounds fair enough."  

"You know what? I'll let you know tomorrow actually." Abruptly, Casey stands up and looks down at us with a small grin. She's grinning through her leftover tears, but she doesn't care.

Nikki smiles back at her. "Hey, I'll call you tonight. We can . . . talk about everything, I swear."

"Fine, fine." Casey starts climbing down the wall.

"Hey," I reach into my backpack and pull out her shoes and hand them to her, "you might want these back."

"Got any blood on them?"

I laugh and scrunch my nose a bit, which hurts my black eye. "No, but one shoe has this creepy smiley face sticker on the bottom of it."

"Does it really?" She laughs too and puts them into her backpack. "Oh, and one more thing. Jack, can you ask her out already? I'm sure it's been killing you forever."

I blink. "Wait, huh?"

"Jack Joseph Allen Moore. Ask. Out. Nikki." She smiles very softly.

"Casey," Nikki slumps her shoulders, "isn't it a bit early to even—"

"I'm telling you you have to do this. You guys owe me."

I swallow hard. "Case, I really don't think—"

"Please." She stares up from the ground below us and her smile is fully intact. It looks like she means it. Casey really does.

Slowly, I turn to look at Nikki. "If this isn't really cheesy and awkward sounding, will you . . . go out with me?"

"She says yes." Casey laughs a little.

"Casey, she didn't say anything yet." I wag my head.

"Um, obviously I can read minds. Durr."

Nikki pauses and she looks up at me.

"Wait," I raise an eyebrow, "so that was a yes?"

Casey makes a face. "Jack, it's not like I can read her mind or something."

"But you just said—"

"Nikki," Casey snorts, "please answer the boy before he explodes."

"Hmm, I don't know . . ."


She laughs at Casey's shout and she bites on her lower lip before she looks up at me. "I'd love to."

"Good because this is going to get all gross and sappy and stuff." Casey smiles and starts backing up. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah." Nikki and I both nod and let out an exhale. We calmly watch as Casey walks away towards the parking lot, and I wiggle the toes on my shoeless foot to keep them warm. It's like a giant weight was lifted off of our shoulders. Granted, there's still some weight there, but it isn't as heavy. Not even close and we're glad.

"I thought she would have taken that . . . much worse." I say.

Nikki shakes her head. "Give it some time and you'll understand that Casey just . . . works differently than most people do."

"Even when she's upset?"

"I've only really seen her upset twice, and that's counting this entire dilemma." She shrugs a little and smiles.

Even though I experienced this all firsthand I still don't know what to make of it. Any other girl I know would have reacted similarly, but the grudge would have lasted so much longer. And her anger, probably much greater too. And any other girl probably wouldn't want her best friend to date her ex.

Casey is just different, I guess, and I wonder how she does it—how she handles it. Especially because of what I have done. I was her first relationship, her first kiss, and the first one to break her heart. But even after all of that—all of those things she's never experienced before—somehow she's still okay and now she's fine, for the most part.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yeah, Nikki?"

Her voice is practically smiling. "I think Casey stole your shoe."

I blink and I look around the wall and see no sign of it. My eyes fall back down to my foot and I see my big toe pop out through a hole in my sock. And when I look out across the field of frostbitten grass towards the parking lot, I see Casey waving my big red Converse above her head like a victory flag with the biggest grin I've seen on her face in quite awhile.


"So we're . . . together now?"

"Mmhm," I smile and stir my coffee around with my stirring straw, "unless of course you've changed your mind in these past thirty minutes we've spent together as a couple."

Nikki smiles to herself and quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, definitely. I can't stand you."

"Oh darn," I snap my fingers and wag my head, "that's a shame. I thought we were doing so well."

She lets a warm giggle bubble out of her small frame and she tilts her head to the side and smiles tenderly at me—enough to make me want to melt, even though it's probably ten degrees out here.

"Well, Miss Wilson, I suppose we shall part our separate ways." I bow in her direction and stumble forwards; I'm still missing my shoe.

"Jack, you're going to trip, you goof."

I grin and put my hands on my hips. "But we're parting our separate waaaaays."


"Okay, fine. I guess we can work this all out, even though you're the one who wants us to part." I plop back down next to her smiling, and let my leg bounce. I already feel jittery from the coffee, and I wonder if it's because it's not decaf like we ordered. "I still can't believe she took my shoe." I rub my socked foot against my Converse.

"I'll get it back tonight." She cozies her hands around her Styrofoam coffee cup and shivers.

Gently, I wrap my arm around her waist and she immediately leans against me. We sit like that for a couple minutes until I feel her shift and look up at me.

"You have really pretty eyes."

I raise an eyebrow and gesture to my swollen eye. "Black eyes are pretty attractive, huh?"

Nikki snorts and wags her head against my chest. "Oh yes, they really are. Especially on you."

"I try."


I look down at her and run my fingers through her hair.

"You've . . . really wanted to be with me all this time?"

My hand stops and my body shifts a little. "Nikki, of course. I mean, you're all I ever thought about last year and I could hardly fall asleep because all I was thinking about was you. And whenever we'd talk on the phone I'd have to sit in my car because I'm so see-through to my parents." I swallow hard and stare down at my coffee. "Whenever you were with Drake I felt so jealous and . . . I dated Casey because I forced myself to think that you hated me, and that I'd never ever have a chance with you, Nikki."

I watch as her eyes widen and she stares up at me, and I know if I stare back for too long I'll probably get lost. Her cheeks are rosy and I watch as a small and timid smile makes its way onto her soft face. "Jack, I could never hate you . . . and I'm so sorry that you felt that way. I really am." She reaches up, gently strokes my jaw and whispers, "I think you're adorable. I've always thought you were. And I think I've liked you ever since the first day we met, but I kept telling myself I didn't because I already had a boyfriend that cared about me."

I can't help it. I stare straight into her eyes.

"But then I realized that I was wrong when I found out that you . . . you actually cared more about me than he ever did." Nikki leans in and kisses my cheek. My stomach flips and my face burns, but I smile so widely and so stupidly.

We sit in silence again and Nikki takes a shy sip of her coffee. "I really missed your smile."

"Hmm?" I tilt my head and look down at her.

"Your smile."

"What about it? Do I have something stuck in my teeth?"

Nikki laughs and scrunches her nose. "No. I missed your smile. I feel like I haven't seen it since . . . last year, actually. It's so goofy."

"My smile's . . . goofy?"

"Yeah, it's pretty goofy. And crooked."

I snort. "It is not."  

"I'm not going to argue about this, Jack. It is." Her head leans against my chest again and I shut up. My hand gently strokes her hair and I hesitantly kiss her forehead. Nikki shivers and looks up at me. I stare back and I pull the biggest and goofiest grin I can before I lean down and kiss her. She laughs softly against my lips and kisses me back.

December 6th, 2008
"So what exactly do I owe you, Casey? You said you'd tell me about it four days ago."

"Hey," Casey just smiles to herself as we walk down the hallway, "just settle down."

I groan irritably. Maybe she'll want me to jump into a frozen lake (oh hell no) or do something equally as stupid, like lighting myself on fire. And, honestly, I'd rather light myself on fire than jump into a frozen lake, but that's just my opinion.

"Okay, you have one chance to show me that not all guys are assholes."

"Wait, what?" I stop walking and a couple people that were behind us bump into me and curse under their breath before moseying their way around.

She exhales and pushes a strand of her auburn hair back behind her ear. "Introduce me to a guy that's . . . decent."

"Decent in . . . what sense?"

"Dating sense maybe. I don't know yet." Casey shrugs and shoots me an honest face.

"Casey," I furrow my eyebrows a little, "you practically know everyone already."

"Well, I guess you'll have fun finding a guy for me then, huh?" She flashes me her braces.

"I don't think this is a very good idea."

Casey crosses her arms and dear god, she pouts. Casey Fletcher is pouting at me like a little girl who wants candy. And, it's not like it's working or anything, but I do owe her.

"Okay, okay, fine. I guess I know one certain guy."

"Who is he?" She almost looks eager.

"My cousin."

Her expression falls and looks serious. "Hell no. No. No, Jack."

"No," I bite my bottom lip a little, "he's not like me, I swear. He's actually really smart and not a stupid clumsy idiot."

Casey stares at me.

"Just give him a chance."

She exhales. "Fine. What's his name then?"

"Uh, well," I hold my breath for a moment in thought, "he mostly goes by Yang."

"Yang?" Casey makes a face. "His name's Yang?"

"No, that's just the name he goes by."

"Okay, then what's his real name?"


Casey makes another face, but this time it looks a little more disturbed. "Harper? Isn't that a girl's name?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Isn't Casey a boy's name?"

"The name Casey, my friend," she stands up straight and tilts her head back matter-of-factly, "is a unisex name, meaning that it can be both a girl's name and a boy's name."

"Well, same goes for Harper."

"That's just dumb though."

I sigh and rake my fingers back through my hair. "I'm sure he'll just love you, Casey."

"He'd better not."

"Isn't that the point though?"

"No," Casey starts walking again, "the point is to show that not all guys are assholes."

Dear god, Casey, sometimes you don't make sense. But I still love that.


"So," Nikki spots Yang and Casey from across the cafeteria, "she convinced you to find her a guy that isn't an asshole like you are."

"Hey." I snort. "She actually said that it was to show that there's guys out there that aren't complete assholes, but she didn't say anything about me being an asshole."

"She implied it though," Nikki tilts her head and smiles at me from across the table, "didn't she?"

"That she did." I smile back.

"Well, they look cute together. Or at least I think so anyway." We watch as Casey talks all animatedly with Yang, throwing her arms about and almost talking loud enough so we can hear her. But even if we could, it probably wouldn't make much sense to us.

Yang seems to be enjoying her; he's laughing and running his hand back through his hair all playfully like a geek. Which is good since Casey's a huge geek. It's almost like they balance out. Yang's a lot more serious than Casey is, but it looks like she's bringing out his enthusiastic spaz side, and it's nice to see.

But even though she smiles and she laughs, I know that deep down somewhere she's still upset and so angry at me, and at Nikki too. Casey can cover it up all she wants, but I know it's there poking, and stabbing, and beckoning her to hate me with all her guts. She has every right to hate me, and she knows this, but she won't; she won't show it, and I really wish she would.

"It's almost a little unreal sitting here with you."

Nikki stifles back a giggle. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that I never thought we'd end up like this, Nikki. It always crossed my mind, but I never thought it would actually happen."

Very slowly, she reaches her hand across the table and grabs mine gently in hers. "Yeah, me either, but I'm glad it did."

"It just kind of sucks that it happened this way though, huh?"

"Yeah," Nikki smiles softly, "but if anything, I'm just glad to see you like this again, Jack. You always looked so sad."

"I was, but I'm okay now." I return the smile and squeeze her hand in mine. "And I'm glad to see you like this again too."

Nikki flashes me the genuine smile that I've missed all too much.

I'm in love with my best friend.
Does this need a mature warning or not? Are we all . . . okay with this? I think I'm going to take it off for now, and if someone complains, I'll put it back up. :O_o:

. . . I'm horrible at endings. Specifically when they're supposed to be happy. I'm sorry. :iconwellshitplz: *FAIL FAIL FAIL*

So, there you go. I'm sorry if it seems a little half-assed. Again, I'm pretty bad at wrapping stories up. XD;

Finally got us some official NikNack . . . and ultimately, Casey would've felt completely fine if Jack had broken up with her to begin with. I think she feels like they're almost too similar, so it feels like she's dating the male equivalent of herself, which creeps her out. So, overall, she would've wanted Jack and Nikki to get together in the end. :lmao: *BRICK'D*

If you have any questions feel free to ask. And if you'd like to bash this story, feel free to do so. It's well deserved. :B

Need to start from the beginning?: My Best Friend - NikNack Ch. 1 January 3rd, 2008
"Are you happy?" I ask her. My face is pressed to my knees as we sit on the brick wall at the back of the school, and I can feel her shift a little at my side. I lift my head and look down at her.

She tilts her head and smiles up at me like I'm an old friend of hers. "Of course I am, you goof."

No, I want to tell her, No you're not. How can you be? I feel sick, dizzy, and like the world's going to crumble beneath us as I smile back and say, "Good." My heart is caught in my throat, and I try my hardest to swallow it, but it won't go back down.

- - -

August 29th, 2007
I met her today in my American Li

Cover Art:

Songs of inspiration:
Apologize - OneRepublic
A New Hope - Broken Iris
Broken (Live) - Gorillaz
Casey's Song - City & Colour
Come What May (Finale) - Moulin Rogue
Curl Up and Die - Relient K
Don't Let Me Go - The Fray
Like Knives - City & Colour
Little Lion Man - Mumford and Sons
Mr. Brightside - The Killers
Over My Head (Cable Car) - The Fray
Over Thinking - Relient K
The Horror of Our Love - Ludo
You Could Be Happy - Snow Patrol

Word Count: 6,939 (Longest yet, but the worst chapter. LOL)
Word Count Overall: 21,952

Nikki (c) ~NikChik-11
Jack and Casey (c) =PaopuDestiny
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     I saw signs, I saw flashing lights blind my eyes but all I kept looking at was this girl's smile.  Then we pulled into a cute little restaurant.  She looked at me and sighed "I don't really feel like going to that party so is it okay if we just grab something to eat here?" "Yah that's fine but I don't have any money on me" I said trying to no let her know I didn't have money at-all never mind on me. "No problem my dad knows's the owner so we can get food for free" she replied getting out of the car. I followed.

     We got inside and the waiter greeted us and brought us to a table for two and handed us menu's I opened it up and read all the choices there were burgers, chicken fingers, macaroni, sandwiches, nacho's and many other similar foods. "Wow, I didn't expect a girl like you to eat at a place like this don't you guys get like fish eggs" I said with my eyes wide open she put her menu down an raised her eye-brow and said "I have money I'm not a alien! I eat regular food" I sat back in my chair and glanced at her "Is that what you want?" "What do you mean is that what I want?" She asked. I cleared my throat "Well like is that what you want? The life-style of the rich and fancy" "I- I don't really know nobody's ever asked me that before" She said but then the waiter interrupted us to take are orders. Then it just kind of got quietly got awkward until she said "You know, I wasn't even wearing eye-liner" "What?" I asked. She crossed her legs and came closer, and then she looked at me for a second "When you said you wiped eye liner off my face, I didn't have any on" "Oh… um… it must have been mascara or eye shadow" I said nervously. Then she laughed "Well I didn't have mascara on either, and my eye shadow is pink. You don't get that confused with black mascara and eye-liner" I then got a chill on my back, what was she trying to prove? "Oh I think I'm color blind so who knows" I said trying to save the fact I went to kiss her.  Then she squinted ''I would have let you kiss me" she said. I looked up and smiled. "My name is Jackson by the way" "And my name is Summer by the way'' She said giggling. Then our food arrived.  It looked and smelt so good but I felt sick from all the millions of emotions and thoughts running through my body. She took a couple of huge bites into her burger then put her hand over her mouth ''Well! What are you waiting for!? Dig in!" "I'm not that hungry, I don't really eat much" I said. She looked at me weird and put her burger down again after a big bite "Oh? Well with me that's not happening, I like wrecked your car the least I can do for you is make you eat" she said. I looked at the burger that did look really goo and I took a bite. She looked at me like she was waiting for a show.  I suddenly felt better, I usually never eat anything, I usually have one meal every other day. She then clapped her hands "Yay!" She cheered. Some –how she got me to eat some how she wrecked my car and I'm not even mad, some- how she could make me smile even thought we just met. Then my worst fear was brought up "So where were you going tonight?" she asked. I couldn't tell her that I cut; she'd be all freaked out. I put my almost eaten burger down "Oh, I was just going for a drive to stop my racing thoughts because my mom" "Oh yah I forgot I'm sorry" "She'll be happier now" I said forgetting that I'm trying to not let her know about my abusive, horrible home. She sat back stunned "What? Why is that?" She said. I just continued to eat my burger and said "Yum! This is so good" She gave me a confused look and said "Oh… yah it is a good burger" She knew something was up, but I wasn't in the mood to explain it.
     Then my cell phone rang "One second" I said as I answered it. All I heard was Jamie in tears "Wait, Jamie what's going on?" "DON'T COME HOME" Jamie yelled I flung out my chair "Jamie why?"   She was crying hysterically "the cops are taking me and Sophia to an orphanage so hide" Then the phone hung up. I just sat down and said "Shit" Summer paid for the check then said "Jackson is everything okay?" I started to tear up… "Everything's fine" Then we walked out into the car. I sat there and couldn't hold it and started to cry then she came in the car and said "No offence but I've never seen a guy cry" I looked at her angrily "I have no where to stay tonight, my sisters are in a orphanage, my dad got caught for abusing my mom, my cars banged up, and my mom's dead" I said continuing to cry. She just sat there for a second stunned with her hands on the wheel. "My parents are on a business trip right now I'm home with my butler, come stay at my house for the night" She said "But I just met you" "So, Jackson you need some-where to stay" She said putting her hand on my shoulder "Okay…" I said. What choice did I have? I mean I had nowhere to go. It was a silent drive.
    Then we pulled into a mansion.  "Alexander my butler is probably sleeping" she said then we both walked in. "This is where you live!? Holy shit" I said looking around in amazement.  You can sleep in the guest room she said walking into the room. The guest room Is bigger than my actual room! She turned on the TV for me then looked at me and said "Um well I'll be in my room its right down the hall; you can tell it's my room because there's an S on the door. I'm going to go put some pajamas on, um good night" She said closing the door. I just laid there on the bed trying to fall asleep but I was really thirsty, I tried to ignore the fact and go to sleep but all I wanted was water and I didn't want to be rude and just go into the kitchen and get one. I went into the hall I closed to door as quietly as I could and tip-toed until I found the room with an S on it and I knocked on the door. Then I heard footsteps and he door upended. Standing in front of me was Summer but she has a bra on, with sweat pants and a robe. I gulped trying not to stare "Yes?" She said "Wouldn't you like to put a shirt on?" I asked she look confused and said "It's how I sleep get over it, now what do you want?" I pulled my eyes back to her face and stuttered "I- I just wanted a glass of water" Then she left the room and pointed to the kitchen "The kitchen's right there" Then she walked out into the kitchen and I followed her. She was getting me some water and she said "Where are you going to stay after tonight?" I sighed "The streets I guess" As I pushed the hair away from my face. Summer handed me the glass of water "I'd let you stay here… but my parents" she said. I took a sip of water and said "I understand" Then we were both leaning against the counter. She glanced at me and started to stutter "Umm… tonight, tonight was fun" "It was fun hanging out with a loser like me and smashing your car? I know you just feel bad for me" "Well I do! And the car can be fixed but honestly I had fun" "Why?" I asked watching summer prance around the room "Your down to earth and you don't play it like you have the perfect life, all of my friends are stuck up snots and all they do is brag…" "You don't want to hang out with me Summer, I'm no good" "No, your life isn't good but your just fine…" She said. Nobody's ever said anything like that to me… I was shocked, especially coming from someone has high-class as this girl. I paused for a second and smiled "Thanks". Then she came over to stand next to me "No problem" she said. Then we just looked at each other and are bodies met and she kissed me. I just stood there shocked.
Second chapter of The healing point! Please enjoy(: Again, I think my friend is doing a story with Summers point of view so if your interested I'll give you the link once she does it.
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January 3rd, 2008
"Are you happy?" I ask her. My face is pressed to my knees as we sit on the brick wall at the back of the school, and I can feel her shift a little at my side. I lift my head and look down at her.

She tilts her head and smiles up at me like I'm an old friend of hers. "Of course I am, you goof."

No, I want to tell her, No you're not. How can you be? I feel sick, dizzy, and like the world's going to crumble beneath us as I smile back and say, "Good." My heart is caught in my throat, and I try my hardest to swallow it, but it won't go back down.

- - -

August 29th, 2007
I met her today in my American Literature class. I don't think I've ever met anyone like her before. She's in my Spanish class and Biology class. My lunch period too.

She thinks I'm funny. And she likes my hair.

September 12th, 2007
She always laughs at my jokes, my stupid words and reasons, my bad metaphors, and my goofy laugh. That's what I am; I'm her giant goofball. I tower over her nearly a foot in height and my feet are seven sizes bigger than hers. If we were to ever hold hands hers would probably get lost in mine. They're so tiny, her hands are.

September 21st, 2007
We lie out on the sidewalk in front of the school just staring up at the clouds, and we tell each other stories of when we were younger and more naïve. Sometimes I catch myself staring at her when she's just smiling to herself, and dreaming while she's awake. It's a soft smile, an unbreakable and genuine one. Sometimes I stare at her lips and imagine mine pressed against them.

We've known each other for a month, but I feel like I've known her forever.

October 5th, 2007
I have these days where I don't feel real. They're days when my feet are weighted blocks, and my head is an empty balloon. I always think to myself it's not fair that he gets to hold her and kiss her. He doesn't deserve her. I wish she could see that. 

Why can't she see that?

October 11th, 2007
She thinks it was sweet of me to give her a strawberry cupcake on her birthday.

I don't think she liked that I managed to get more than half of the students in the cafeteria to sing happy birthday to her (but part of me thinks she secretly appreciated it, even though she wiped pink icing on my cheek).

Behind my cheesy grin I frown when he finally pulls up in his car at the end of the day to pick her up at the front of the school. He kisses and caresses her in the front seat and whispers, "Happy birthday" to her before they drive away.

I don't want to admit that I'm jealous of him touching her like that.

October 23rd, 2007
My dad doesn't understand why I have to talk to her over the phone in my car every night. He thinks it's weird and his eyebrows furrow in puzzlement. My mom on the other hand thinks it's cute, and she always wonders when she'll get to meet this girl I've been talking about for months.

My phone is a heavy rock in my hand and it echoes her voice, her umms, her sighs, and her giggles. When we finally hang up my face is lost in the curve of my elbow, and my body slumps back against the driver's seat. I miss her voice already.  

What is she doing to me?

October 31st, 2007
We lie in my driveway and I silently ask the stars not to let this moment end. We both see our breath swirl around above us and dance in the cold air. I feel her smiling that genuine smile. She's even smiling with her chocolate brown eyes; she thinks it's funny we both have a birthday in October.

A bag of Halloween candy fills in the space between us on the pavement and we're both covered in dark makeup and handmade costumes for the occasion. My house is aglow with black and orange decorations, and when she first saw them she couldn't believe her eyes.

My parents love her. But they don't know that she can't be mine.

November 3rd, 2007
I bury my head between my knees and try to block out this envy. My guts are missing and I can't tell her what's been hacking away at my mind for months now, and leaving me with the emptiest feeling I have ever felt.

November 25th, 2007
She's noticed my weird behavior; I've been trying so hard to cover it all up, but I'm slipping now.

She asks me to go out with her. As friends, of course.

I sit anxiously at the table of the smoothie shop, and before she sits down she hands me a tall, plastic cup filled to the brim with a pink frothy liquid. I wonder why we had never come here together before. Ever. Especially when it was warmer out; now it was chilly and not smoothie season. She sets down her own plastic cup on the table before placing the cup holder down beside it. She bought two hot chocolates too.

We sip at our smoothies and occasionally our hot chocolates to warm up. I search for abandoned words on the table, but I don't see any. She's waiting for me to tell her what's wrong.

I stare at her blankly, unsurely.  

I reassure her with a warm smile.

December 24th, 2007
It's three-thirty in the morning and I can't stop thinking about her. I can't breathe and my body aches all over, and this sick feeling is heavy in my stomach. I think this is the first time I've ever really cried over a girl, and I feel so stupid for doing it. It's not like I've lost her; she was never mine to begin with.

She's not even trying to do this to me.

December 31st, 2007
I don't know how to tell her where I would be without her. Where I would be without her phone calls, her questions, her favorites, her not-so-secretive-secrets, her laugh, the way she sometimes sounds so distant on the phone, the way she talks so closely to me, our conversations, her smile, her essence, her being here.

I want to tell her, but I won't. I try convincing myself that I am strong, a tightened rope, a panther's back. I am fortified, brave, and reckless . . . and so breakable.

I can't. I'm sorry I can't, I think.

- - -

"Why would you ask me that?" She's looking at me now.

I shake my head and continue smiling to myself to hide the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Now she's staring intently at me with her brown eyes and waiting for an answer. I jump down from the brick wall and offer my hand up to her. What is only a little ways down for me is a long way down for her.

"Jack," Her voice is thick with concern, "is something wrong?"

If I reach out any further I can stroke her cheek with my gangly fingertips.

My head is swimming, it's pacing, it's fevering.

"No," I swallow back a choke, "everything's fine, Nikki."

It sucks to be in love with a girl when she already has a boyfriend.
READ ITS COMPANION: My Best Friend -- Nikki's POV January 3rd, 2008
"Are you happy?"

I look over at him as he lifts his head from between his legs, awaiting my answer with a calm face. I offer him a small smile and reply, "Of course I am, you goof."

He stares at me with a blank expression for a moment and I wonder what's going through his mind. After a minute he smiles and slightly nods his head, his usually crooked smile replaced with a broken one. "Good."

It worries me when he doesn't tell me what's bothering him. I wonder if it's something I've done.

- - -

August 29th, 2007
I ended up sitting next to this guy with a really funny sense of humor today in American Lit.
Written by the lovely ~NikChik-11 It's in Nikki's POV. :heart:

CHAPTER 2: My Best Friend - NikNack Ch. 2 February 14th 2008
I get ready to slip a Valentine's Day card in her locker. It kills me a little to think of how close I came to writing down, "I LOVE YOU" in the dead center of it in red permanent marker. I might as well have written down: JACK JOSEPH ALLEN MOORE IS A DUMBASS, but that wouldn't have made much sense. At least not to her.

Even if I wrote "I love you" she probably wouldn't have taken it the way I had intended. People throw that phrase around so much. Especially friends. And that's what we are.

Just friends.

I pull my biggest grin in her direction, and she smiles back and waves slightly, careful not to drop her bo

The cover art for this short story series --->

What's this? . . . NIKNACK? :iconwellshitplz:


Yeah, um . . . after having some little RPs with ~NikChik-11 before Jack and Nikki actually dated, this suddenly became a little angsty story. Took four hours. Pfft. And now I'm going to bed because I have to wake up in like, five hours. Ahaaaa. I'm so cool.

YES. Nikki and Jack started out as like, BEST FRIENDS for an entire year (and they both really liked each other) before they actually dated. That's because Nikki was already dating another guy (who's an asshole, bfjdkaofjda), so Jack felt like he couldn't tell her his feelings and whatnot. Little did he know that she was battling herself too, and she really wanted to tell him that she loved him just as much. But she couldn't.

FUN FACT KIND OF THING: Eventually Jack actually dates Casey for a little while because she asked him out . . . and he didn't want to make her upset by telling her no (which actually wouldn't have made her upset because she's been rejected plenty of times). In turn, that made Nikki extremely upset, especially since she had just broken up with her asshole boyfriend. Gwah. :noes:

ANOTHER FUN FACT THINGY: September 21st is my birthday, October 11th is ~NikChik-11's birthday, and October 31st is Jack and Jackie's birthday. XDD;

Yeeeeah. So this is just a little run-down of their time together. Granted, they haven't known each other for a year, but this just kinda shows what was going on through Jack's head. Progressively he feels worse, but he doesn't want to tell Nikki he's upset. D8


*conks out*

Word count: 1,253

Nikki (c) ~NikChik-11
Jack (c) *PaopuDestiny
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