The Sisters: The Curse of Gabriel's Gardens

Crossroads - Special chapter

We started to follow the story of the girls when they were eighteen, already seen as young ladies with a more or less stable life. But like all of us, they had to be children once. They had their both happy and horrible moments, moments which defined them and made them the people they are now.

These three stories will describe the most defining moments of Alexis, Diane and Anna from their perspective, adding more to their backstory and filling some gaps in their pasts.

<<>>

A Promise

Alexis Warren's story

Six years before the first chapter

<<>>

Another school day, another day of misery.

It's not that I have trouble with studying. If I had to say something nice about myself, I would probably point out my intelligence. Most professors say that even though I am just twelve, my grammar and writing skills are already on par with the most high school students. I think it's actually nothing hard. If everyone read as much as I do, everyone would have perfect grammar.

Okay, I'm intelligent. What else?

Pretty much nothing.

I am ugly. Who would be interested in a short, thin girl with pale skin, glasses and fair hair resembling a bunch of hay? If there's someone like that, I haven't met them yet.

I take a look around and observe my classmates. Most of them already wear make-up, or at least try to. Some of them are already growing into feminine curves while I am stil awfully flat. I'm not complaining. I personally don't care about my look since I prefer a quick wit before curvy chest. But... you know. The kids of Gabriel's Gardens tend to be as shallow as humanly possible.

As I walk towards my desk in the front row (where I sit alone, of course), nobody notices me. I am invisible to them. My classmates are sitting in small groups, laughing at the stories they tell each other. It's not like I crave for a friendship with any of them, but it still hurts.

I know you have probably heard that from many kids my age, but I think that I don't belong here. Maybe these people are right - I'm probably just ungrateful and should be glad for what I have. But I still feel that I have a right to complain.

The fact is that I don't have any friends. I have trouble socializing because I'm just too shy. My biggest hobby is reading - pretty uncommon among the children in the Blue Street public school. And even if I see someone with a book, I just can't find the courage to approach them and ask what are they reading. I am too insecure about my face, my personality, everything. I'm just sure that they would look at me with that crooked smile which clearly says I'd prefer if you just walked away and give me some vague answer before quickly excusing themselves and leaving.

The person closest to me is my sister Diane. Even though she's my exact opposite - pretty, extroverted, popular -, we love each other and even thoug she teases me on a daily basis, she's always ready to defend me and even fight for me. Unfortunately, the school system separated us. Due to the increased number of new students, the class has been split in two and Diane ended in the second group.

That means I'm all by myself.

As if it all wasn't enough, we recently started to discover the heritage our mother left us. Until last year, I thought that the feather-shaped mark on my right hand is just some really weird birthmark. Diane has also one, shaped like a red rose.

Our adoptive father, a holy man named Ignatius Warren, helped us to discover that these strange marks aren't just a decoration. It was a shock for me when I discovered that we have powers we saw only in superhero movies. We are training these powers for a year now and we finally started to control them to some degree.

Diane has a superhuman strength. Even though Father beseeched her to not use these powers in public, Diane already got involved in a few brawls. I have to say that two of them were initiated because of me - Diane knows how to defend her sister's dignity and I'm eternally grateful for that.

My powers are a bit more mysterious. So far, I only know they involve some kind of energy manipulation. How am I supposed to train my powers when I have no idea what do they do? I am able to infuse people with energy - I do that often when Father or Diane are feeling down. Using this power tires me a bit, but the results are worth it. I may also be able to create some kind of forcefields, but I did that only once by accident.

That brings up one question: who was our mother? Reverend Warren is always very mysterious about her, but he hinted that the powers are her heritage.

I started to read books, both fiction and non-fiction, about paranormal occurences, ghosts, demons and exorcists. Father wants to train us to become some kind of ghost hunters - or paranormal investigators, as he calls it. He says that our powers made us destined for such fate. I am not complaining. Maybe it will finally bring some excitement into my life.

But until then, I have to pretend that I'm a completely normal girl whose backstory isn't so complex that even I have no idea what's going on in my life.

And that may be a bigger challenge than I thought.

<<>>

Finally, halfway through the school day. Our next lesson is in a classroom in the third floor. There is also the Principal's office - I have to shiver a little when I walk past it. There is a scary legend regarding the school - its former Principal who was in the office before we were born was, according to the story, brutally murdered, found in his office with a sliced throat in a puddle of his own blood which was splattered even on the walls and furniture. I don't know if I should believe it, but it's unsettling nevertheless.

I'm so busy observing the door of the Principal's office that I space out. It happens a lot to me, I'm just a daydreamer - the worlds inside my head are ironically the only thing which can keep me sane. But right now, it's not the best time to get lost in my thoughts.

I accidentaly run into a boy walking in front of me. We both fall on the groud with our textbooks scattering all over the hallway. I can already hear the laughter.

In a teenage high school movie, I'd probably make an eye contact with the boy I ran into, we would politely apologize to each other and in a following conversation, he would invite me for a date. But, as you probably know, this isn't a movie. And the guy doesn't seem like he wants to take me for a date.

"Watch your steps, goddamit!" he shouts. "Look what did you cause!"

"I'm sorry," I say. "It was an accident."

The boy just groans and starts to collect his textbooks from the ground. I stand up and wipe the dust off my skirt. When I try to take a step forward, I trip over something and fall again. Another wave of laughter follows. One of the girls standing nearby tripped me up, as if my embarassement isn't already big enough.

"Hey, Alexis," the girl mocks me, "you're not so cool when your sister isn't around, are ya?"

I look at her without saying a word. She's not even that pretty, definitely not a member of the "beautiful and popular" group, but she still thinks it's cool to humiliate me. Well, everyone thinks it's cool to humiliate me, a tiny introvert who will never fight back.

I take a quick look at myself. My white blouse is creased and dirty and so is my skirt. And they were so neat in the morning. Also my ponytail got all messed up. At least my glasses are where they should be - I learned to secure them using a string.

That guy I ran into doesn't even try to help me.

Yes, I could tell Diane about this and let her take a revenge, but I'm not like that. At home, I pretend that everything is okay, that nobody bullies me. Well, I shouldn't call it bullying. The more accurate term would be systematic overlooking combined with occassional personal attacks when an opportunity is given. But Diane would probably still call it "bullying" and beat up anyone who engages in this activity.

Maybe that's why I rarely talk about it. The whole school would be probably dead if Diane decided to avenge me. She's a great sister for sure, only a bit hot-headed sometimes.

I finally collect all my books and head towards the classroom. On the way, I meet another girl, this time one of the school's beauty queens. She's about fifteen. She looks at my hand, then frowns at me. "What are you trying to achieve?" she says. "Aren't you a bit too young for tattoos?"

I just shrug and keep walking.

Our insignias are a frequent topic of questions. Father usually tries to cover them using a make-up, but there are times when the strange birthmarks are showing, like now. I was in a hurry in the morning, so I had no time to cover the insignia. I can, however, always say it's just a washable tattoo.

I arrive to the class and hear the scolding about me being late. I ignore it, more or less. The upside of my nerdhood is that I have good relationships with the teachers and they are always willing to forgive me some minor offence, like coming late or forgetting a homework.

Yes, you guess right. It makes me a teacher's pet in the eyes of other students. But it's not true, at least to some degree. I support the theory that the school system is flawed and the children would show much better results if they were motivated to study more by something else than marks. Also, even though I may seem meek and submissive, I have trouble accepting authorities.

I hate to think that I'm something less or something more than any other person. At least that's what I have in common with Diane, even though her rebellion is more open and visible. "That impertinent Warren girl" has already become the nightmare of the most teachers.

What can I say? You gotta love my sister.

<<>>

After a long day, I think there's nothing better than just relaxing with a book and a cup of tea. We live in a small flat located above the small clothes store which serves as a covering for our Father's illegal underground church whose existence has been revealed only to a few people who attend Father's sermons on Sundays.

Right now, I'm reading a book about the most known cases of haunting. I'm reading a chapter about the Amityville horror - Ronald DeFeo, probably possessed, murdering his whole family. The paranormal occurrences witnessed by the house's next owners, the Lutz family.

There were times this kind of story would scare me to the point I'd have to sleep with a bedside lamp on, but I gradually grew more thick-skinned and now, reading about real-life cases of haunting fascinates me instead of scaring me.

Who knows if I'll be this courageous when I encounter my first real entity.

Everything is peaceful until my sister bursts into our shared room. "Shit," she mutters and throws her schoolbag into the corner. "Sis? You can confirm I've been studying yesterday, right? I got a goddamn D again. I'm, like, really pissed. Blackwood is clearly biased against me, that son of a..."

"Diane. Stop," I interrupt her.

See how charming person my dear sister is?

She throws herself on her bed and sighs resignedly. As I said earlier, she's pretty, but not the girly type of pretty. She's basically a tomboy. The only make-up she's wearing is a black eyeliner, but it's only to match her T-shirt of a rock band My Chemical Romance; Diane has already grew out of it, it's too small and shows a bit of her stomach, but she refuses to give it up. Her rebellious look is further supported by black shorts with several chains hanging from the belt and a few bright red stripes in her hair.

We share the room - it can easily be told which half belongs to which sister. To be honest, I can't wait to get my own room. It's not that I don't like my sis, but the differences in our temperaments make our coexistence a bit hard sometimes. For example, it's hard to enjoy my book when my sister decides to blast metal music on full volume while saying that "earbuds are only for the outside".

"Better luck next time," I tell her. "I know you're trying hard."

"You know. But that's not gonna help us," she grumbles.

Diane suffers from a mild form of attention deficit disorder and hyperactivity; it also partially explains her restlessness. I know she tries hard, but her brain just doesn't cooperate. I pity her sometimes, seeing how much is she trying without any visible results.

We are like two halves of a yin and yang. I have no problems with studying, but I can't socialize. Diane is popular, but struggles with the schoolwork.

"Can I help you with something?" I offer her.

Diane points at her bag. "The homework is inside. You'd be golden if you wrote them."

I smirk. "I'll do something way better for you."

"Really? Kill me and release me from this misery of material life?"

"No. I will help you and teach you how to do it. You know the Chinese proverb? Give a man a fish and you will feed him for a day. Teach him to fish and you will feed him for a lifetime."

My sister rolls her eyes. "Careful, Lex. Your philosopher is showing." She looks at me and notices minor bruises on my knee - I got them from falling in the hallway today. She frowns and her passivity is gone in a second. "Where did you get this? Did someone hurt you?"

"No, I've just tripped over something," I say. "Dee, you're cute when you're protective."

"I'm not cute. I'm scary. Fear me," Diane replies. "If I ever see someone hurting you, they can expect hell. You're insufferable sometimes, but you're still my sis."

I smile at her. "A hug?"

"Not again."

I ignore her and just hug her without permission. She sight theatrically, but joins in. I enjoy the presence of the only person, besides Father, who loves and accepts me. I tend to tell myself that I'm actually an antisocial, that I don't need anyone at all. But I just lie to myself.

<<>>

Group projects. Do I need to say more?

"You will work in pairs," the teacher announces. I just sit down and wait for a desperate soul who gets rejected by all the people, just like I would. Unless we are in odd number. That way, I could ask the teacher for a permission to work alone, which is the best option for me. But the grumpy old woman would probably just make one group a team of three.

The subject is Chemistry, which is one of my less favorite. I'm pretty much average in it, so there aren't even parasites who want to join me in expectations that I will do all the work; it happens more in English or History classes. These are my strongest subjects.

The bigger is my surprise when I hear a quiet, shy voice: "Do you want to work with me?"

I turn around to see who's desperate enough to actually come with this offer. It's a petite Latinoamerican girl named Marlene, Marlene Sanchez. She's so quiet that sometimes we actually forget she exists. She's much like me, a world on her own. She sometimes joins the more popular groups, but she's usually seen alone, either listening to music or doodling in her exercise books.

I often wished I could somehow initiate friendship with her. But my goddamn shyness prevented me from doing so, so I had to hear until she makes the first step. And maybe it happened just now.

I find her much prettier than I am, but she still looks pretty nerdy. She's taller than me, but still short, with a darker Hispanic skin and curly, waist-long brown hair. She doesn't wear glasses on her eyes colored like dark chocolate, but his nerdy look is caused by braces on her teeth visible when she smiles shyly.

I realize that I stare at her without saying a word.

"Uhm... Alexis?" Marlene says.

I manage to smile at her. "Sure! Come and sit with me. I'd love to work with you."

Marlene is also smart. But her fields are more among science subjects, including Chemistry. That rules out the possibility that she's willing to talk to me only because of my brains. I immediately start to think about a conspiracy. Is that some kind of sick joke?

Everyone willing to talk to me has to be joking.

But Marlene doesn't seem like it. She seems to be genuinely pleased that I accepted her. We don't have much time to talk since the teacher starts to give us the work, but I realize that Marlene is really good at science - and also a good team player. While the others are still in the half of the assignment, me and Marlene are finished and the teacher looks satisfied with our work.

The girl smiles at me again. "I really enjoyed working with you."

"So did I," I reply, trying to fight my social anxiety as bravely as possible. I hope that Marlene sees my blush only as a sign of exhaustion from work.

Marlene seems to feel like leaving, but I don't want her to. It's now or never. I have to speak up before I lose my chance to turn my life over. "Marlene?" I burst out. "You seem like a nice girl. Are... well... are you free today? I was thinking... we could go for an ice cream together."

(Did I really ask her out? I don't recognize myself anymore.)

"Sure!" Marlene brightens up. "To be honest, I wanted to know more about you for some time already. I tink... we could be friends. If you're okay with it, of course." Her voice is quiet and sing-song, it makes me want to smile without any apparent reason.

"Hey, look at that!" one of the girls pokes her friend. "Warren has a girlfriend." They burst into giggling and I blush uncontrollably. This kind of talks makes me insecure.

"Don't listen to them," Marlene says. "Alexis... mind if I sit with you for the rest of the day?"

I become engulfed by some strange euphoria. Maybe this is what it feels like, having a friend. It feels really good. We share a few jokes, even in lessons; the teacher has to tell us to stop talking - that happened to me for the very first time. By the end of the school day, I wonder how could I avoid Marlene for so long.

<<>>

I go to sleep more happy than ever before.

I hanged out with Marlene and I was like I found my long-lost sister - no offense, Diane. We share most of our interests, opinions and beliefs. It's like our souls are connected in some strange manner. A short trip for an ice cream turned into a hours long talk in one of the Blue Street parks.

The paths of two hopeless introverts who both enjoy reading and music finally crossed. And I already know this is, with a bit of luck, going to turn into a lifelong friendship.

"Sis? You look kinda jolly today," Diane observes.

"It seems that I found a friend," I smile.

Diane laughs. "Yeah, and I got an A from a math test!"

"That's cruel," I note. "I'm telling the truth. Her name is Marlene and she's exactly like me. She likes the same books, the same music. We can literally talk for ages without getting bored. She understands me. No, we understand each other. She know how it's like to be misplaced, to be ignored."

"You're talking like you're in love with her," Diane smirks. "You should see that dreamy look you have! But congratulations. You deserve some love, you nerd."

"Thanks, Diane. Of course I won't start to ignore you."

"Oh, really? That's so sweet of you - not abandoning your stupid sister for a nerdy girl you just met."

I laugh. "Not sure if it's sarcasm or not."

"My sarcasm is so advanced that I'm often not sure myself."

The next day, I experience another feeling I haven't felt yet. I'm looking forward to go to school. I may be a nerd, but I don't like going to school much, mostly because of my social problems. But now, I'm excited to meet Marlene again, to again see her diffident smile and lively eyes. But maybe she doesn't feel the same and sees our meeting only as an one-shot event with no consequences.

These doubts are gone as I approach the school. "Alexis!" I hear. Marlene is running towards me, dressed in a stylish brown sundress. She may be nerdy, but her fashion sense is so much better than mine. Maybe she can give me some tips.

"Marlene! How are you?" I smile at her.

"I've taken a look at the book you recommended me," she says - once she starts to talk, she's unstoppable, like she needed to let out all the words she didn't say through all the years. "I read a third of it right away. I ABSOLUTELY love it. I have to thank you for it!"

"That's okay," I reply. "At least I have someone to discuss it besides several fans on the internet. I think it deserves more recognition, its character development and world building is one of the best I've seen in a book. I've read all the sequels so far!"

"Don't spoil me anything!" Marlene raises her finger.

I grin. "I have to tell ya, the spoilers for this book are really juicy. I won't tell you if you'll hang out with me again. Today, after school... is that convenient?"

Marlene nods happily. "If you wish, I can take you home. My family would love to meet you, I'm certain. I also have some things at home you could be interested in. Do you like quesadillas? My mom makes them every time we have a guest over!"

"Of course I do, if she gives me the recipe. I also cook a bit."

"Woah, you can cook? You're certainly going to make some man really happy one day!"

I sigh. "I highly doubt that. Getting a man is a privilege of pretty, popular girls."

"I think you're pretty enough," Marlene says, blushing slightly. "It's not that movie star kind of look, but you have your personal charm for sure. At least when someone gets to know you better." I enjoy listening to her slight accent, probably caused by her Hispanic roots.

"Come on, Marlene, you're too kind," I reply with a smile. "Now go, the lesson is starting soon."

<<>>

The following weeks are beautiful. My bond with Marlene tightened and I had also an opportunity to meet her parents - a chubby, hearty, maybe a bit too friendly man named Santiago Sanchez and his wife, a petite, quiet and gentle Maria Sanchez.

There is something I feel towards Marlene I can't describe. Is that the feeling of true friendship? When she's not around, I long for her presence. I keep noticing more and more things which make her beautiful - my most recent discovery is her laugh, a high-pitched giggle which reveals the braces in her teeth. Do all friends in the world feel the same? Or am I just too clingy and Marlene is in fact annoyed by me?

If she is, she's perfect at hiding it. She seems to be genuinely happy when she sees me and our spiritual connection hasn't faded yet. There are still endless topics to talk about.

At school, we always sit next to each other. Some students already called us "lesbians". I'm aware what a lesbian is and I don't mind it - these people can think whatever they want, I just want to be happy with my new friend, regardless on what other people say.

That day started as usual. Me and Marlene sitting together, the teacher preaching about the 17th century literature while scolding the loud group of back benchers. Nobody knew that a rather traumatic experience is awaiting us... until that man bursted into the room.

The teacher, still writing on the whiteboard, just casually noted: "You weren't taught that it's polite to knock before you enter the room?"

But the panicked gasps and screams of the students told her that something's not right.

That man is close to fifty, with unkept dark hair and a stubble, wearing (oddly enough) an old, soiled suit with a gray shirt which was probably once white. He's holding a handgun in his right hand. Before anyone can react, the man with a sharp face and wide chin grabs Marlene by the hand, yanks her towards him and wraps his left arm around her neck so she can't escape. He points the muzzle at her head.

Marlene looks at me with pure terror in her eyes. I wish I could do anything to save her, but the man is at least twice as big as I am. Besides that, his left eye keeps ticking, hinting that he's not psychically alright. He shouts: "If anyone moves, she's dead, understood?"

This is basically a perfect description of my luck - ending up in a hostage situation with my best friend's life at stake. We all, including the teacher, keep silent as the man approaches the window with a view at the school's parking lot. He activates the handsfree set on his head, apparently calling someone.

"Listen up," he says after a while. "I'm in the second floor of the Blue Street public school. I've got a class full of hostages. I demand cancelling the sentence of my brother, Vernon Bay. Right now, he's rotting in the Gabriel's Gardens penitentiary. You have two hours to get him out and send him here with a car which we will use to escape. After that, I will gun down one hostage every hour. Don't try to stop me or they will die all. Do you understand what do I want?"

Nobody can hear the reply of the other side, probably the police, but the man's face soon brightens with a sinister smile. "Very well. Your two hours start now."

Minutes pass in deep silence. I think I can hear the stressed out heartbeats of my classmates, but the loudest of them belongs to Marlene. Her chocolate brown eyes radiate intense fear, her tanned skin went dead pale.

"I don't want to hurt any of you," the man finally breaks the silence. "I just want my brother back and this seems like the only way how to do it. We were inseparable, until he was jailed for murder - I'm not even sure if he really did that. Then, my life started to go to shit. I need him back."

"But that's no reason to keep children as hostages," the teacher says.

"No. It's the perfect reason. Children are the most people's weak spots. They'd do anything to save them. They'll release Vernon and I'll get away with him. I have a bad feeling about this, but it has to be done."

Several minutes later, the police car parks in the parking lot. A middle-aged female police officer tries to negotigate with him, but is not successful. The man refuses to let Marlene go.

And the clock is ticking.

An hour already passed. In one more hour, Marlene will be probably dead. And I can't do anything about it.

Or can I?

<<>>

90 minutes passed. The man doesn't hesitate to remind the police, too.

"Where's Vernon?" he growls into the microphone. "You have only thirty minutes left. And then, this young lady will die in front of all these children. Unless I get what I want."

He listens to the reply.

"What do you mean, can't be so fast? You are toying with my patience, Officer! No, I am not going to change my mind. If Vernon won't be here in thirty minutes, one hostage will die."

Marlene clenches her eyelids, trying to hold back tears.

I look at the insignia on my hand. Goddamn. I have paranormal powers, but can't use them to save my friend! All I can do is to transfer my own power into people who need it.

Wait a minute...

If I can give the lifeforce, doesn't that mean I can take it, too? I have never tried the opposite - there was no reason to hurt Diane or Father. If I drained the lifeforce of this man, it could cause him to pass off. That way, I'd be able to save Marlene. But I have no idea if my power isn't only one-way.

I guess it's do or die.

I look at the man. "Sir?" I voice shyly.

"What do you want?" he replies emotionlessly.

I ignore the teacher shaking her head in the background, silently telling me that I should stop. "I just wanted to ask... could you please take me instead of her? She's like a sister to me and I'm sure you can understand the bond between siblings. Please, take me and let her go."

Marlene looks at me in disbelief. I give her a sad smile. "It'll be okay," I whisper.

The criminal seems to consider my offer. Then he violently shoves Marlene away and swiftly grabs me instead. I feel his forearm on my throat, smell the unpleasant scent of his old jacket and even hear his accelerated heartbeat and raspy breathing.

I try to not think about the fact that if my plan fails, I'll most likely end with a bullet in my head.

"Well, I have to admit you're pretty courageous," the man tells me. "As a reward for your courage, I'll let your friend go." Then he turns to Marlene. "Go! Leave before I change my mind!"

The Hispanic girl gives me one more look and rushes out of the classroom. The man doesn't try to stop her. I feel a surge of relief. Even if I die, Marlene will be alright.

Now, I should try and execute my plan.

I place my palm on his massive hand, just casually, like I was too afraid. Then I close my eyes and focus on the insignia on my hand. I imagine the man's lifeforce as a red stream flowing through his body and my own as a blue stream - I do it all the time when I send my energy to Diane or Father. My insignia works as a conduit between the two energies.

But instead of sending the blue stream into the red one through the insignia, I try to attract the man's lifeforce, lure it into travelling through the conduit into my body. The man is strong and the energy resists. Upon opening my eyes, I realize that the feather insignia shines through the layer of make-up used to cover it. I hope that the man won't notice it.

The gun's muzzle on the temple of my head doesn't make this task easier.

I look at the time. Ten minutes remaining.

I start to panic. Maybe my insignia really isn't able to drain power instead of giving it. I try to calm down and attempt one more try. I think about my sister, my father and Marlene. If I die, I won't see them ever again. Then... finally. The man's lifeforce starts to leak through his skin, as if I managed to inflict an invisible cut, and pour into my body.

I feel like overdosing on a caffeine drink. My senses heighten - I can hear the disturbance in his breath, see his hands getting sweaty. As I drain more and more, he has to try harder and harder to stay conscious. I'm merciless. I continue until the red stream in his veins turns into a thin trickle.

"What the...?" he mutters.

A while later, his legs finally refuse to cooperate and the unconscious man hits the floor. I escape his grasp and kick away the gun he was holding.

<<>>

The classes were cancelled for that day. As soon as the man passed out, the police stormed the building and arrested him. Everyone thought that he just couldn't handle all the stress and his brain just decided to turn off. Nobody knew the real reason behind the happy ending of this dramatic situation.

The police asks me several question. I try to act like scared, hysterical girl so they let me go as soon as possible. When I finally leave the school, Marlene is there. She just stares at me for a long moment.

"Why?" she finally voices, with tears in her eyes.

"Because," I reply and fall into her arms. We stay in the hug for a long time, not minding that our classmates, teachers and the police see us. Marlene cries, I try to console her. She tries to thank me, but she's not yet able to give me coherent sentence.

"Jesus, what happened?" a third person joins us. It's Diane. "A day off is always great, but I'd like to know why is that. And why is your Latino friend crying."

I describe the whole situation and Diane raises her eyebrows. "You did it, right?" she notes. "The power of your insignia. You just squeezed him like a lemon."

Marlene looks confused. "The power of your what?"

"That's a different story, I guess I'll have to do some explaining," I smile. "But now, it's important that we're both alive and well."

"You saved my life," Marlene says. "You put your own life on the line instead of me. I... I don't know what to say. I can never thank you enough. You are the truest friend I could ever wish for."

"Oh, things are getting emotional," Diane smirks. "I guess I'll just leave you two alone for a while."

"Marlene?" I say as soon as she leaves. "I only want one thing for exchange."

"Anything you wish for."

"Just promise me something."

"Go on."

"Promise me that you will never leave me. Before I met you, I was so lonely. I was a loser who only had her family to cheer her up. I was just surviving, but after meeting you, I started to live. You helped me to gain confidence, to realize my worth. You changed my life, Marlene, and I want you to tell me you will never leave it. Please. You are the first person outside my family able to see me as I really am."

"Alexis, you are like a sister I've never had," she replies. "Of course I will stay. I promise."

We hug again. This time, even I lose my fight with tears.

And in that moment, I'm certain that what I feel towards Marlene can't be a normal friendship. It's like I want to stay in her arms and never leave. What the hell is wrong with me? A small voice in my head tells me that I definitely shouldn't be feeling this towards a girl.

I usually listen to the voices inside because they are mostly right. But I decide to ignore this one.

We made a promise. An unbreakable bond of friendship forged in danger.

<<>>

Several years later, it's finally our graduation day. We maintained our friendship for all these years and are still as close as during the day we met. There's only one more thing we have to do before we leave the school - a graduation ceremony.

I go to the school's hall used for such events accompanied by Marlene and Diane. My sister is wearing an elegant black dress with a knee-long skirt - she borrowed it from her older friend named Kelly; she's much smaller than Diane, so the dress is a bit tighter. But Diane still looks great in it.

On the other hand, the dresses of me and Marlene fit perfectly. Maria Sanchez is a skilled tailor and managed to make us beautiful, majestic blue dresses with long lacy sleeves and long skirt. As soon as we step inside the hall, we become the centre of attention.

We used to be just a pair of nerds - unattractive, undesirable. But for this day, Mrs. Sanchez turned us into beauties. Marlene removed her glasses (and decided to wear contacts just for this once, since she hates them with all her heart), put on a gentle layer of make-up and let her mother to turn her hair into a sea of shiny curls. I've never seen a girl so beautiful in my life.

I kept my glasses and refused to wear make-up, so I still look a bit plain compared to Marlene. But the dress and the princess-like hairstyle with numerous little braids Mrs. Sanchez helped me create turned me into a completely different person. It makes me a bit insecure.

Despite that, I enjoy the people pointing at us with curious expressions. They can't believe that we can be beautiful, too. One guy tries to book a dance with me - I have no idea what to do since I've never been approached like this before. Before I start babbling, Marlene helps me. I accept his offer since I've never had any quarrels with that young man and he has always been helpful and friendly.

That guy's not ugly at all, but my admiration belongs to another person tonight. I can't stop looking at Marlene - during the ceremony, even when I receive my school-leaving certificate. I shake my hand with the Principal, but I look at the audience where Marlene is already sitting with her papers.

We smile at each other.

By this time, I already realize that it's not a mere friendship I feel towards her. I started to slowly accept that something's not completely right with me when I realized that I am in love. All the symptoms were there - thinking about her all the time, butterflies in my stomach, trying hard to impress her.

I fell hopelessly in love.

But I don't have courage to confess it.

I sit next to her and suddenly, I feel nervous and a bit insecure. I'm sure that she had to notice it already, notice my feelings towards her. Unfortunately for me, when Marlene was about fifteen, she started to shyly flirt with boys - that leaves only a little hope that my feels can be returned.

Marlene looks at me and smiles. "Finally, the school's over," she says. "We did it."

I clumsily return her smile. "Yes. We did."

My love interest frowns. "Is something the matter, Alexis? You look strange."

I fight my urge to tell her the truth - that I wish I could grab her beautiful face in my hands and kiss her - first, I would give her several shy kisses, then finally thrust my tongue between her lips decorated by a decent lipstick and use my own lips to tell her everything words can't express.

I decide not to do it.

It would most probably ruin our years-long friendship and I would also have to come out as a lesbian if I did, which is something I'm definitely not ready for.

Lesbian. That term used to be so alien, so distant. But during the last few years, I started to realize it applies to me more than I'm willing to admit. Even the most attractive guys leave me calm, but then, I'd do anything for a chance to get closer to Marlene. As I grew older, I realized the female beauty is much more appealing to me. That I'll never find pleasure in male company.

It's lasting for too long to simply cross it out as a phase. But it'll be safer if I remain in the closet, if I keep it a secret just between me and my computer's Incognito mode.

Maybe one day, I'll find enough courage to tell the world everything about myself. But today is not the day. So I just manage to give a more convincing smile and reply: "No, everything is just right."

<<>>

Several months passed since the graduation ceremony. Me and Marlene are still in touch, even though we don't meet in person as much as we used to. We usually use a chatting software to talk. Even though I had to smother my feelings for her, she's still my best friend and I'm glad we didn't alienate completely.

A new message from Marlene.

I look at my hand clenching the computer mouse, at the insignia on it. The insignia which saved Marlene's life. Since that day, I've trained my powers and gained full control of them - and also used it to solve many cases alongside my sister. But saving Marlene's life is still the most important thing it has done so far.

I open the message.

Alexis, guess what! I finally have a boyfriend.

Despite everything, my heart dies a little. All hopes are now gone - Marlene's heart belongs to someone else. But I can't blame her for that. I kept my feelings bottled for so long and now... it's too late. Nevertheless, I try to be happy for her. I reply:

That's so AWESOME! Congratulations, Marlene! Tell me more about him.

She texts:

Okay, be ready for a rant. I'm SO in love. He's so kind, handsome, well-mannered, from a influential family. A true gentleman. I'm surprised that he chose me even though he could have literally any girl he wished for! I feel so beautiful, wanted and happy with him. His name is Kyle.

<<>>

The Torch

Diane Warren's story

Three years before the first chapter

<<>>

Same shit, different day.

My surroundings tends to see me as a rebellious, reckless punk. And I don't try to deny it. But lately, I've been realizing that nothing can be further from truth.

I'm going to be fifteen soon. Most people at fifteen live dangerously, stay outside overnight, date each other. And me? I spend the whole days by staying at home with my sister, watching TV or listening to music. Of course I hang out with some friends from time to time, I've actually tried alcohol a few times already, but no, I'm not as wild as the people think I am.

Maybe it's because of my second life I live. I'm close to fully mastering the power of my insignia which is a totally badass super strength. Me and my sister train our powers in the illegal underground church owned by our Father, Reverend Warren. While sis is able to manipulate energy, create forcefields and even heal some minor stuff, I can break thick wooden board with my bare hands.

If you ask me, yes, I am very happy to have such powers. It's only pretty hard to not pick a fight with someone who pisses me off every day. Man, it feels good, being a young teen girl who's able to give a solid trashing even to the strongest buff I encounter.

Just recently, we started to use these powers for something useful - ghost hunting. We already managed to solve our first case of a haunted house - I admit, I was scared to death. But we succeeded and now I'm looking forward to doing it again. Maybe banishing paranormal suckers is like sex, who knows?

I have to admit, I make too many sex jokes for someone who's still a virgin. Not that I desperately want to change it, I have some standards and dignity.

I have to fight a strong urge to boast about me being a ghost hunter - I'm sure it would make me look fly as hell. But Father asked us to keep it a secret for now. And even though I'm usually not an obedient type, I decided to follow his wish just for this once.

Okay, I went too far from my existentional crisis, right?

I just think that my life just slipped into some kind of boring loop and I can't break it somehow. It's not as interesting as it should be. I wish I was as humble as my sister who is satisfied only with a book and some hot drink. I'm too restless. I require human contact.

But I suppose you know these differences between introverts and extroverts, right?

<<>>

As you can imagine, the school is a peak of boredom for me. I amuse myself with really immature challenges, such as testing the teachers' patience or trying to secretly listen to music during lessons, which is even bigger challenge when you wear a sleeveless top. It's probably no surprise that I belong to the infamous group of back-benchers which gets scolded on a daily basis.

My sister would most probably join the scolding if she knew about my mischievous nature - fortunately, she's in the neighbouring class with her best friend, that Latino girl Marlene. She's usually with her at school, so I have some time to be with my friends, too.

Well, I don't know if I can call that group of jackasses "friends". We can talk about some stuff and do stupid things together, but there really isn't any deeper connection between us.

There is one girl I can call friend, her name is Anna. She's wheelchair-bound after an accident when she was little, but she's cheerful, with great sense of humor. She's a huge nerd and sometimes weird, but we always have a good time together nevertheless. Too bad she attends a different school, so I have to satisfy with these dorks from the last bench.

Finally, the classes are over, so I can go back home. For some weird reason, sis has a different timetable than me and she has to stay at school for one more lesson (tomorrow, she will end earlier instead of me). I put my wireless headphones on my head and play some nice music. The walk to the TEx station immediately turns into a music video with me as the main character.

I make sure to blast the music loud enough so everyone can hear it. Muffled metal riffs coming from my headphones go well together with my rock attire consisting of black sleeveless top with the Avenged Sevenfold logo and tattered, knee-long jeans. I like to look badass. So what?

I look at my wristwatch - twenty minutes until the TEx arrives. I have some time to visit a small store near the TEx station - it's run by a short, hearty Vietnamese man who uses funny broken English to communicate. His name is Tran Nguyen something, but I call him Mr. Chong and he doesn't mind since we're already kind of friends. He always has some fresh food for me when I arrive.

"Oooh, Lady Diane!" Mr. Chong gives me a heartfelt smile as soon as I enter. "I has baguette. Ham cheese. You wanna? I sell for two dollar."

I smile. "Of course. I'm hungry like a vegan on a barbecue party."

"Ba-be-kyuu," Chong nods happily and hands me the food. I accept it and start to scavenge his little store since I have still some time left. Chinese sweets, ramen noodles, a counterfeit bottle of Pepsi labelled Bepis.

You can find literal miracles when you search this place well enough.

I grab a pack of hilariously disfigured gummy bears and a bottle of Bepis and head back to the counter. Oh wait, something's not right. There's a guy in front of the counter; he's wearing a black T-shirt and tattered jeans similar to mine. His lower face is covered by a black bandanna. He's swinging a huge knife in Mr. Chong's general direction. The owner is quickly reaching into his cash box to give the robber his money.

Trying to rob my Asian friend? Well, someone's asking for an ass beating.

I casually approach the robber with shoulder-long, yellow-ish hair and surprisingly charming green eyes. "You have ten seconds to pack your shit and run away," I announce.

He laughs. "Or else?"

"This," I draw some power from my insignia, swing my arm and let my empowered fist connect with the robber's face. He gasps in pain and surprise, stumbles a few steps backwards and hits one of the shelves back-first. Several packs of ramen noodles hit his head. The robber turns tail and runs away.

Mr. Chong stares at me like I was some kind of superhero, which is not that far away from truth. "You strong!" he says with his funny accent. "You brave! Thank! Thank!"

"That's alright," I smile generously. "Glad I could help." I place the candies, baguette and Bepis on the counter. "I'll take this."

"No pay!" Chong shakes his head. "For free. For saving ass."

I laugh and decide to accept the food - it's not a big loss for him anyway. "Thanks," I say. "That dude picked hell of a wrong time to rob you. If you ever need me again, call me!"

"Thank, thank!" the Asian man grins at me. "Come again!"

"Sure I will," I nod and open the bottle of Bepis. It tastes surprisingly good, even though the chemistry inside will probably give me cancer. Well, it's much better that my last week's catch, a pack of cookies with a blue Pikachu on the package labeled as "POWERMON Cookis". They were so hard and dry they could be used as a doorstop.

<<>>

"So, how was your day?" Alexis asks me as soon as she arrives home. I have to lower the volume of my music played on my set of speakers I humbly call "Neighbor Torturer 9000". "I hope you didn't get involved in any problems, as usual."

"I have to disappoint you, sis," I smile mysteriously. "Today, I was a hero."

"Let me guess: you started a good Karma character in inFamous?" Alexis smiles.

"No no no. Today, I stopped a robbery. Not in a videogame, in real life. Some dork tried to rob Mr. Chong's store, so I showed him his place."

"I hope you didn't use your powers."

"No, I just talked to him nicely and convinced him to leave the store."

Alexis sighs. "I have no idea what irritates me more: your sarcasm or the fact you used your powers in public again. We have a deal, remember?"

"It wasn't so bad," I defend myself. "I didn't beat him into a bloody pulp, one punch was enough to make him leave. It was nothing a well-trained girl couldn't pull."

"Okay. If you insist. I just hope it won't have any consequences."

"I think you're too uptight, sis. If it was up to me, we would be a pair of perfect crime fighters. Superheroines. Something like... The Priestess and Slugger Girl. Sounds cool, right? Our powers match perfectly. Why do we have to keep them secret? We could do great things together."

Surprisingly, Alexis seems to think about it for a while. Then she reluctantly shakes her head. "People like us draw too much attention if their powers are exposed. The people calling us frauds or liars would be the tiniest problem. The scientists and doctors would want to examine us, to dissect us just to fnd out where's that power coming from. I have been thinking about it, too. It would be wonderful, but it would bring more trouble than benefits. The less people know about it, the better."

"I understand," I say. "But I'm still mad. I have superpowers, yet I can't use them. If you think about it, maybe there are countless people with such powers, but they keep them secret because of these reasons. Maybe we would be able to establish some agency similar to S.H.I.E.L.D which would protect the world from the crime. But it won't happen since the unique people are too scared."

My sister smiles grimly. "People can't even accept other people with a different skin color or sexual preferences. It's for sure that the normal people would start hating those with powers, that's just the human nature. Revulsion towards anything that's different or unexplainable."

"In other words, people are assholes."

"It can be said like that. But don't worry, I'm certain we won't let our powers lie fallow. Remember the haunted house we investigated?"

"I still have bad dreams about it, thanks for reminding me."

"I think that's our real purpose," Alexis continues. "To work in the shadows, using the paranormal to fight the paranormal. Solving the problems that are hidden and people are afraid to speak about them."

"Maybe you're right," I admit, "but if I'll work in the shadows, the people won't applaud me on the streets, chant my name, take selfies with me..."

"Are you really doing it all just for the fame?"

"What can I say?" I shrug. "I like being in the centre of attention."

Alexis laughs. "Okay, okay. But now seriously, Dee... try to use the powers as little as possible, ideally not at all. I really don't want us to get in trouble. Father would also be disappointed."

"Come on, Lex, don't make me feel guilty. Okay then. I'll try."

<<>>

Unfortunately, Alexis was right. My heroic deed will have an aftermath.

It's Friday, so that means our evening is free. Alexis will invite Marlene for a movie night (it's something like their tradition which happens roughly bi-weekly) and since I don't want to be their third wheel, so I decide to spend my evening outside, like a normal teenager.

I take a walk to the Serenity Square district with hands in pockets, my faithful headphones blasting music again. I chose the neighbouring district because it's cleaner and safer. Spending the night in the Haven district is still relatively safe, but if you want to be 100% sure, you should pick one of the music clubs in Icaria or Serenity Square. Besides that, better bands play there.

It's not that I'm afraid. If I got attacked by some creep, no matter what my sister says, I would beat the crap out of them. The sun is setting, illuminating the skyscrapers with mysterious red light. I'm not going outside to get drunk or pick up guys. I prefer music clubs where the local garage bands perform, trying to steal their place in the sun. If I like the band, I share some of their songs to my friends and try to gain them popularity.

The club called Heaven's Underground, whose symbol is a pair of tattered angel wings, is my favorite, also because it's friendly towards younger visitors. They don't sell alcohol to the underage, which would probably discourage most of the people I know, but as I said, I'm not here for the booze. Tonight's band is called Disciples of Thanatos and they play some kind of metal.

I step inside the club and say hi to some people I know. Mitch, the owner, already knows me well and every time I enter, he gives me a glass of Coke for free. I've already finished the bottle of Bepis I bought in the afternoon, but I guess some more caffeine can never hurt.

I stand under the stage and wait for the band to start performing. In the meanwhile, I casually chat with the people standing around me, usually much older than me. Some of them offer me a beer, but I refuse. Damn, my sister has too good influence on me.

After a while, the Disciples of Thanatos step on the darkened stage. Their image is defined by long cloaks with hoods partially covering their faces. Their music is basic dark, kinda emo metal with average instrumental play and edgy lyrics. It's the singer's voice which makes the music worth listening to - hard, a bit raspy, capable of both soft screams and full-blown screaming which makes the club's walls treble.

The hood is covering his face which is not visible until he takes it off near the end of the performance. I look at that dude with sharp face and long, blonde hair. I gasp and wish I could leave this place as soon as possible. It's no doubt that the guy I look at is the robber I punched in Mr. Chong's store.

He even has a bruise on his left cheek, exactly on the place where my fist landed.

I try to make myself as small as possible, but the guy manages to look at me. We share a short eye contact and it's clear that he remembers me, too.

Strange. A guy who's a musician at night and a robber during day?

I attempt to leave the club even though it's not even ten yet, but several people stop me and convince me to stay until the concert ends. I have to pretend everything's okay, so I try the opposite approach - I wait until Disciples of Thanatos finish their performance and leave the stage. Fortunately, the band including the robber leaves the club immediately after thanking the fans.

I stay for a little longer, just to make sure the robber is gone.

I somehow manage to forget about him and enjoy the club's atmosphere. The live band is replaced by a DJ playing songs from various rock and metal artists, both older and newer, classic and alternative. The big upside is that nobody treats me with condescence even though I'm just fourteen.

Here, I feel like in my natural habitat, like my sister in a library. A few guys try to hit on me (probably because I look older and they're already plastered) and it's nice to see my friends defending me even though I'd be able to handle the situation by myself.

When I finally decide to go home, it's almost midnight. I know that my sis will probably have a long speech about how unbecoming it is for a girl my age, but I don't care much about it.

<<>>

I leave the club and see the problem already.

The robber and several other people, probably something like his gang, are sitting on a bench in front of the building. I try to sneak past them without being noticed, but the robber is already getting on his feet and approaching me. I realize I have no chance of avoiding the conflict.

"Hey there," he says with a sly smile. "The world is small, isn't it?"

I try to play dumb. "I don't know you. Let me go."

When I evaluate my chances, I realize they're pretty slim. Yes, I have my powers, but I guess they wouldn't be enough to fight one, two, three... seven people plus the robber. The group behind him consists of various types of weirdos - there's a goth girl with a dark red lipstick, a tall dude with glasses wearing a hood, a punker with a mohawk hairstyle and so on.

The robber himself, I have to admit, looks pretty good; he's that type of bad boy girls usually adore. He doesn't look menacing, definitely not like he's planning to hurt me.

But looks can be decieving, y'know.

I decide to play hardball and look him straight into his green eyes. "I did what I had to do. And besides that, I'm not the one who brought a whole gang to take revenge on just one girl."

The guy laughs. "You think I want to hurt you, right? I have to admit, I was kinda pissed off when you humiliated me in public like this, but it fizzled out after a while. Actually, I admire people like you. You have guts. And a goddamn good punch. Where did you learn it?"

"My grandpa was a kung-fu master," I come up with a lie.

The robber examines me closely; it's kind of unpleasant. "A tattoo?" he says, looking at my insignia. "You're good, that's for sure. My name is Cole, Cole Bishop. Nice to meet ya... under different circumstances."

"If you don't want to hurt me," I say, "what 'bout you just let me leave and go to hell?"

Cole laughs again. Some of his sidekicks join him. "As I said, you're good. I just want to talk with you a bit. After that, I can go to hell, as you suggested, and leave you alone," he smirks.

I fold my arms. "Go on, Kurt Cobain, I'm listening."

"I can tell when a free soul like you is restrained, has their wings clipped," Cole starts. "That's your case, isn't it? There's something missing in your life. Some thrill, meaning, some souls similar to yours. Free, rebellious, unaffected by your surroundings. If you're not free, girl, you suffer. I'll get straight to the point. You can join our little club of free souls if you wish."

Join them? They all look like people in their late teen years. I'm so young compared to them. Besides...

"To join a gang of criminals?" I spit out. "No, thanks."

Cole sighs. "I admit that we didn't meet in a pleasant situation. I'm totally not proud of it. My family kicked me out of the house and my band barely makes enough money to make us survive. Living in a caravan and eating ramen all day isn't a good way to live... I just needed some money. I was desperate."

"Nice fairytale, but it needs a vampire," I say. Some of Cole's friends laugh.

Cole comes closer to me. "What's your name?"

"Diane."

"Now listen up," he looks at me like he's trying to hypnotize me. "You are a torch, Diane. You can either keep living your boring, dull life and slowly fade away, or to burn out with us. Your choice. Our door is open, so it's up to you if you step inside. We can promise you adrenaline, rebellion, friendship."

He offers me his hand.

Both my sister and Father have warned me about weird cliques which turn me into a drug addict and ruin my life. And to be honest, these people look like deliquents. And that's the main reason why are they so appealing. The others smile at me, seemingly ready to accept me among them. One of the guys casually lights up a cigarette. I'm certain Alexis would beg me to just walk away.

That makes them even more appealing.

My sister can't control my life forever. I need my personal space, my own life unbound by her and Father's rules. I know it's immature, but I want, or need, to rebel against them so badly. Cole is right. I'm wasting my life and hardly experience any excitement.

I accept his hand.

<<>>

The next day, evening. For the first time, I hang out with Cole and his gang. At first, I was kinda scared and felt that I don't belong here, but then I realized that these people aren't dangerous criminals, just a bunch of people seeking thrill and excitement.

They accepted me really fast. Besides Cole, I also befriended Lilly, that goth chick. She's also only fifteen even though she looks much older with all that make-up on. First, we went to a fast food for a dinner, then just hanged around a park in Serenity Square. The whole group has awesome sense of humor and my immature jokes meet, to my surprise, great praise. I feel like I'm among friends. Real friends.

"Okay, it's time to do something interesting," says Keegan, the skinny guy with glasses and hood. He's carrying a handbag with unknown content; it seems that he finally decided to reveal it. The rest of the group smirks - they probably know what is Kee up to.

We walk through the Serenity Square until we approach a huge factory belonging to Padian Pharmaceutics, a medicament company. About sixty percent of the pills consumed in Gardens come from this company.

"Hey, guys... aren't you planning something... illegal, right?" I say, hating myself for how worried I sound. The gang laughs. "Kinda, depends on your morals," Keegan smirks mysteriously.

We stop by the company's wall. Keegan finally opens his handbag and reveals several cans of spray paint. My heart races even faster. "So we'll be doing... graffiti?"

"That's not graffiti," Keegan explains. "It's called stencil art." He pulls out a big piece of cardboard. Something's carved into it. He uses a duct tape to stick the cardboard to the wall. Then he uses a chalk to mark the corners - I have no idea what is he doing. Then he rattles a white spray paint and sprays in on the wall through the cut out in the cardboard.

"It looks like a new pattern," Cole notes.

"Oh, so you noticed," Keegan smirks. "Just for this opportunity."

The graffiti artist removes the stencil from the wall. I can see some vague white shapes on it. "Is this it?" I frown. Maybe it's some new kind of abstract graffiti.

"Not yet," Keegan smiles and uses a second stencil; he sticks it on the exactly same place as the first one using the chalk marks. The holes in this cardboard are smaller than these in the first. This time, he uses a red paint to spray over it. When he removes the stencil, I finally recognize it's a figure of a man in a red T-shirt.

"And now, the final one," Keegan uses third stencil, this time only with small holes in it. He uses a black paint. When he removes the cardboard, I gasp in awe - the black paint added details to the initial silhouette. Now it depicts a man holding a small bottle with the Padian Pharmaceutics logo above his head, several pills falling into his open mouth. He's standing waist-deep in a grave; the tombstone has no name on it, just a big Christian cross. The black paint even created an illusion of shading. It looks really cool.

"Good job, man!" Cole laughs and pats Keegan on his back.

The artist turns to me. "This company," he points at the factory, "are suckers. It's a confirmed fact that their pills can cure your problem, but immediately cause a new one. For example, their painkillers not only stop pain, but also subdue your immunity system so you catch a flu more easily. And their anti-flu pills contain something that messes with your stomach. And so on."

"I get it," I say. "They don't want people to be healthy. They want them to buy their products."

"Exactly," Cole says. "Unfortunately, the city is already dependant on them and their poisonous medicaments. This is the only way how can we spit in their faces. And it's also fun, isn't it?"

"Definitely," I smile. "Kee, do you have some more art to show?"

In that moment, we become illuminated by a bright light coming from a car's headlights. "Shit, it's the cops," Cole utters. "Run, for God's sake! Run like hell!"

And we run. And laugh, even though the police officers keep yelling at us.

<<>>

The run from the police was probably the most exciting thing that happened to me. We managed to throw them off after a while, so our little vandalism remained unpunished. We just laughed at them and in case they'd want to remove the masterpiece from the wall, Keegan sprays the artwork three more times in the backstreets of Serenity Square. Protesting against a rotten company. Why not?

I come home at night - Alexis isn't sleeping, she's waiting for me. I tell her that I was with a friend - which is not a lie, after all. I enjoy the feeling that Alexis would certainly freak out if she knew what exactly was I doing. Spraying graffiti is illegal and I could get in trouble for it.

That makes the whole thing ten times better.

After a few weeks, I'm already a rightful member of Cole's gang. We meet roughly three times a week. We usually hang out like decent human beings, but from time to time, someone has an idea how to spice the things up a little, often by spraying some more graffiti or pulling pranks on people who deserve it (it usually involves "decorating" their car or their house). We often have to run away from the police called upon us, but nobody so far got arrested. We always manage to outsmart them.

"Another happy landing!" Cole laughs after another successful action - spraying "HI, I'M A CHILD ABUSER" on a car which belongs to Lilly's father. The bruises of her body indicate that we sprayed the truth. He lights a cigarette, but offers it to me. "Wanna try?"

"Nah, not really," I reply.

Cole shrugs. "I won't force you, I'm not that type of guy. But I suppose you don't wanna try because your family shoves the fact it's 'harmful' down your throat. You should have your own opinion on everything."

Lilly, the teen goth, lights up her own. "It's nothing undescribably awesome, but it can calm you down a bit. You don't have to think about the health impact since we already breathe much worse stuff."

I think about the possible reactions of people close to me. Alexis would probably go on a long, angry rant about the harmfulness of smoking and then refuse to talk to me for some time. Annie Lightfoot would call me an idiot and try to dissuade me. And Father... he would show his infamous silent disappointment.

On the other hand, Cole is right. I have right to live my own life and experience anything I want to. I'm not all thrilled about it, I think that stuff smells horrible, but something is still pushing me to try it.

It's not a peer pressure since Cole isn't forcing me at all. It's probably a wish to do something behind everyone's back, to do something they may attack me for, to have my own personal secret.

I take the cigarette, put it between my lips and take a drag on it.

The nasty smoke hits my lungs and it's like something chokes me from the inside. I start to cough uncontrollably and try to fight nausea. As I expected, Cole and several other members of the gang start to laugh at my struggle and pale face. It's horrible. But as soon as the nausea is gone, it feels a little good, too. The aftertaste in my mouth is interesting, like I just ate something intensely spicy.

"So? Did you like it?" Cole asks, still smiling.

"A bit," I rasp, still a bit shocked.

The musician takes my cigarette and extingushes it with his shoe. "Okay," he says, "but at least it's now your decision to not try it again. Don't you feel better now?"

Yes. Yes, I do. Even though I nearly puked and the gang laughed at me, but I feel kinda proud of myself. It's not that I think smoking makes me cool. It's more about making decisions completely on my own, without having to ask Alexis for permission.

Now, I've officially engaged in illegal activities and tried smoking. I guess it's not bad for a girl who turned fifteen just a few days ago. I, however, start to feel some kind of regrets. I have to lie to my family - they think I spend lots of time with Annie while, in fact, I visit my wheelchair-bound friend less and less frequently. I think she's starting to suspect something. Her behavior towards me changed.

Or has my behavior towards her changed?

I'm afraid that sooner or later, I'll have to pick a side.

<<>>

A few days later, I bunk off school for the first time.

I'm ready to go there like an upright young lady. But before I arrive there, Cole calls me. I have to accept the call out of Alexis' sight. When I do, he explains that they are planning an especially juicy action - vandalizing a house of the "witness" who sent Keegan's father to jail. The graffiti artist talked about it earlier - his father's coworkers used the man as a scapegoat for their frauds. The target is a large residence in The Centre.

I want to go so badly. A crime in The Centre during daylight! But I can't right now.

"Can't we do it later?" I ask.

"No, that guy is on a short business trip," Cole replies. "He will return in a few hours. Don't be afraid about school - Nico is able to write a 100% credible letters from the doctor, able to fool any teacher." Nico is, at the first glance, a cute blondie who is, however, dangerously crafty and intelligent.

I think about it for a while. To take a day off with a written excuse... nobody has to know about it. Today would be lazy, long and endless. To exchange it for a thrilling action with my new friends? I know I shouldn't, but the temptation is just too strong.

"I'll be there," I say.

"Good, good!" I know that Cole is smiling right now. "I knew I could count on you anytime."

Fortunately, I don't have to elaborate any escape plans since Alexis' classes started earlier today. So instead of taking a TEx to Blue Street, I buy a ticket to the Angel Square station where I should meet the gang. Yes, they are there, waiting for me behind the naked angel statue.

"Oh, it's you!" Cole smiles at me - lately, I observe that I feel something strange when he does. He's a deliquent. He attempted robbery. Damn, and that's why is he so attractive.

He offers me a cigarette. "You wanna?"

I accept it and Lilly borrows me a lighter. It's my fourth one if I count correctly. It's still disgusting, but there's something that makes me want to repeat it. But I don't do it frequently.

Nico approaches me and smirks at me with her sexy, blood-red lips. She hands me a piece of paper. "This is a letter from the doctor," she says. "Is diarrhea okay?"

I roll my eyes. "Couldn't you make up something less awkward?"

"Take it or leave it."

I decide to take it. Then we rush into the action. Our goal building is located in The Centre outskirts which is a peaceful area full of mansions and luxurious residences. Since everyone's at work, there's no witness. Keegan gives a can of spray paint to each of us. "I'll make the stencil art, you'll decorate the house even further," he commands. "Any insult is cool, but I suggest using FRAUD and TRAITOR."

The following hour is pure fun. I've never used a spray paint before, but I manage to spray the word TR8OR pretty well. Since Nico also drew a male genitalia on his window, I use the red paint to create a simple image of a hand flipping the bird on his main door.

"Nice job for a noob, Diane!" Keegan appreciates my work. His stencil art is also complete: it depicts a man with a sly smile pushing another man, scared to death, into the gallows where the noose is already hanging sinisterly. Their faces are so elaborate it's clear Keegan used a photo of his father and the traitor.

Lilly looks at the new and improved home and laughs. "He's gonna go crazy when he sees it."

"We did a good job," Keegan announces. "It can't get dad out of the jail, but at least we showed that sucker what do we think about him." There are words scribbled on the house I can't reproduce in order to keep this story PG-rated. I'm sure that the guy won't be proud about them.

"Now we have to get outta here," Nico suggests. We remove the single-use gloves which are now dirty from the paint (dirty hands could easily give us away) and randomly throw them into dustbins. Then we just hang out in a fast food restaurant like nothing happened - some people seem curious why aren't we at school, but nobody tries to question it.

"Isn't this better than school, Diane?" Nico asks. "I can make you excuse letters anytime you want."

"I can't deny it's really better," I smile, trying to hide my guilt.

<<>>

I finally arrive home. Alexis comes roughly an hour after me. She smiles at me. "Good afternoon, Diane. So, how was your day?"

"Nothing special," I reply, feeling horrible for lying to my own sister. "Boring as hell."

At that moment, Alexis' face changes. She suddenly looks like a goddess of revenge and I'm sure that my little game is over. "How can you lie to me like this?" Alexis utters. "I came to your classroom and asked for you. Everyone said you were absent today. Where were you? Are you bunking off the school?"

I try to put on a guilty expression - it's surprisingly easy. "I was feeling sick."

Sister sits next to me on the couch. She inhales several times. "A cigarette smoke," she says. "Either you were smoking at home, or you were outside. Come on, Diane. I know you're hiding something. I sent a text message to that Anna you visit so often. She said you barely vistied her lately."

I keep silent, feeling my face becoming red.

"Who are you hanging out with?" Alexis insists. "Please. Tell me."

"And why should I?!" I scream at her. "Who are you to tell me what to do? You have no control over my life, Alexis. I'm almost an adult now. I know how to take care of myself and I'm fully aware of possible consequences of my actions. But you constantly have to act like my mother!"

"That's because you're too impulsive and I'm afraid of what might happen!"

"Oh yeah, I'm always the troublesome one while you were always the goody-two-shoes. I'm sorry, sister, but it's finally time I start to do whatewer the hell I want! And you have absolutely no right to poke your nose into it. And before you start, I don't wanna hear anything about it's for my own good."

Every word hurts me like an aching tooth, but I can't stop right now. Alexis has been controlling my life for way too long already and I need to make it stop. Cole and his gang became my second family, a family where I can be absolutely free, not having to hide my true nature.

She has to finally acknowledge it. And if she can't do it when I explain peacefully...

Alexis sighs. "I was afraid that this day will come one day. Your breath smells like a Morningstar factory and you skived off school. I have no idea who your friends are, but I'm certain they're the wrong kind of people. What will come next? Will the police bring you here in handcuffs?"

"I think I know well what kind of people they are! Maybe they are not perfect paragons, but at least they are daring, adventurous, rebellious. I just can't be friends with prissy nerds, like you. I finally found a perfect company for me and you are not going to take it away from me."

"They can ruin your life, Diane."

"Then it will be my life they'll ruin. In case I didn't make it clear enough: your dictatorship is over, Alexis. You're free to live your life as you wish and so am I."

"Fine," Alexis says with an emotionless voice. "If you really don't need me, then starting today, we don't know each other. Do anything you want, I won't interfere. Feel free to smoke your lungs off and get kicked out of school, like all the cool kids do. Just don't expect me to solve all your problems for you."

She turns away and leaves.

I feel sudden urge to catch her and apologize, but my pride is stronger. I, however, realize that I went too far this time. I've basically forsaken my whole family for a group of young deliquents. I know that Cole would be proud of me for that, but the important thing is I'm not proud of myself.

I hoped that if we get into an argument, Alexis will be angry, scream at me. That didn't happen. Alexis remained calm, mostly, and I was the one who shouted at her. I didn't see anger in her eyes, just sorrow and disappointment. She has never been the type which bottles up emotions. If she feels like crying, she cries. I've already seen her angry more than once. But this...

I'm slowly starting to think I'm making a mistake.

<<>>

The following two weeks are both the best and the worst in my life.

I hardly talk to Alexis at all. We separate as much as possible since the tension that occurs when we're in the same room is unbearable. At least Alexis has enough solidarity to not tell Father everything, but that's probably all I can expect from her side.

I also alienated from Anna - I haven't visited her for ages. All we do is a text chat from time to time. I think she suspects something and decided to leave me some space. Now I feel double-guilty.

However, the time spent with Cole and his group is always rocking. Thanks to Nico, I can skip school anytime I want - it's true that my already so-so grades are dropping at lightspeed and I'm close to failing two classes, but the memories are more important than some letters on a worthless piece of paper.

I also found a little pleasure in smoking - my consumption gradually increased and now I'm doing three a day. I still kinda hate them, so I'll probably stick to this "baby amount", as Lilly calls it.

Today is Friday - that always means going to some music club where Cole and his band performs. Then we stay for a little longer and have some fun. Today's destination is an underground club in South Haven. It's definitely not on my list of the most pleasant places I've visited - there are strange individuals everywhere and I'd be probably scared to death if the rest of the group wasn't here with me.

An upside - they don't give a damn about IDs, so even the younger members of our gang can enjoy a shot or two. In fact, I'm a little tipsy after a few hours, but I don't mind - we all are. With a bit of alcohol in my head, I feel even wilder than before - ready to do anything.

Somewhere around midnight, Cole smiles at me - it makes me shiver again. I return the smile in form of half-drunk grin. "Come with me, Diane," she says.

"Weeeel... why not?" I laugh and grab his hand - something I'd never do while sober. His arms are warm, dry and manly. We start to walk towards the main door while the remaining members are still inside.

"Just you and me?" I ask.

"Yeah." Cole takes me outside and opens his caravan which serves him as home - the caravan, a few things inside and an ancient Ford are basically the only things he possesses. He invites me in. I've been here a few times already, his caravan is a typical "man-cave" with some cheap furniture and lots of musician stuff. There is also a mattress which serves him as a bed.

"Okay, it's time," he says and closes the caravan's door.

"A time for what?"

He laughs. "Don't play stupid, just take off your clothes and come here."

I frown, my slowed-down brain trying to comprehend his words. "Take off my clothes? Why?"

"If this is some kind of foreplay, then good. Come on, Diane. I know how do you look at me. You want me, right? Now it's the chance. I'm all yours, for free to take."

I admit, I fell in love with him. But this? This is plain wrong! "But... I don't want to," I say shyly.

"Come on, don't worry," he gently strokes my face. "I've done it with all of the girls - Lilly, Nico and Amy. They all say I'm really good at it, I always make sure to not hurt them. Lilly was even younger than you when we did it for the first time. It's a privilege that only the girls from our gang have," he winks at me.

I manage to give a clumsy smile. "I admit you're hot as hell and everything, but if you don't mind, I'd rather wait with this stuff for a bit. Sorry, but not today."

Cole seems not satisfied with my reply. "But I want you now, Diane. You sound like that virtuous, uptight sister of yours you keep talking about! I thought you're different. That you want to experience new things, that you like to rush headfirst into new experiences. And now you back off?"

"Yes," I say firmly. "You've always supported me in making my own choices. So let me make one right now. I don't want your tool inside of me tonight. And that's final."

"But you'll enjoy it! I'm certain!" Cole groans, grabs my top and yanks it. He manages to tear one of its shoulder straps. I quickly open the caravan's door and run away without looking back. I stop at the TEx station, not minding that people curiously stare at the crying, half-drunk teen girl in ripped clothes.

<<>>

When I arrive home, Alexis is waiting for me. I forget about all our quarrels and fall into her arms. Now she has a perfect opportunity for a long, condescending I told you so speech. But she doesn't take it. I realize how ungrateful and unfair I was. Alexis is a real treasure.

Fortunately, I don't have to explain as Alexis knows exactly what happened. My ripped clothes, tears and eroded sobriety told her everything she needed to know. Her only question is: "Did he finish it?"

"No," I sob.

My sister helps me undress, lets me take shower and makes me a soup in the meantime. I'm touched by her care, especially after I treated her so horribly. Then she advises me to go to sleep. There's no trace of reproach in her voice, just sadness and worries.

I wake up with a slight hangover - by my bed, there's already a painkiller pill and a glass of water. That increases my regrets even further. I'm aware I don't deserve this treatment.

I step into our living room. Alexis is there, as I expected. "Well... sis..." I have no idea where to start.

"Let's make a deal," she says. "You seem to be punished enough, so we will simply forget about this unfortunate chapter and pretend it never happened. You can call me your sister again."

"Gladly," I approach her and we end in a hug.

During the following days, I recover from the shock and slowly start living without Cole and his gang again. It's easier than I thought - I don't even crave for cigarettes. Alexis is awfully helpful. The ice maiden from the past weeks is gone and my sister became hearty and supportive again. In return, I start to try much harder at school and manage to avoid all the possible catastrophes.

When my recovery is almost complete, I get a phone call.

Cole.

How dares he? Out of sheer rage, I accept the call. "Don't call me ever again," I spit out.

"Diane, listen up," he says before I hang up. "I want to apologize. I was drunk and horny and I had no idea what am I doing. We all miss ya. come back and I promise to never do it again. The guys already told me things I'm really not proud of," he laughs. "Now I realize I went too far. Forgive me."

"I'm not sure if I can," I reply.

"I kinda understand you. But give us one more chance, please. We're planning our best action yet and I'd love if you celebrated the success with us."

"Great. Another graffiti vandalizing?"

"No!" Cole's voice shifts from repentant to zealous. "Tonight, we go big. You once mentioned that both you and your sister hate that McFarlane guy. And it seems he's pissing off more of us."

Now he gets my attention. Leonard McFarlane - that name is boiling my blood even now. Several years ago, this arrogant, ugly, persistent and sleazy journalist tried to investigate Father's illegal church. He worked so tirelessly that he managed to discover the church and blackmailed our Father. If Mayor Whateley found out about the church, he would demolish it and arrest Father. Reverend Warren had to pay unwordly amounts of money to keep McFarlane away from it. Father briefly fell into debts and had a hard time recovering.

"Punishing McFarlane? Dude, I'm in! What are you planning to do?"

"Remember his car?"

Of course I do - it's a white muscle car with writing CAN'T HIDE FROM MCFARLANE all over it. That sucker is sooo proud of it and isn't afraid to let it show - especially because the car was mostly funded by people he blackmailed. He sometimes just drives around the city to show it off.

"We want to blow it up."

"Blow it up?" I gasp. "With him inside?"

"Of course not. We'll just attach a small explosive to it and wait until he leaves his mansion. Then we'll make it boom!" he laughs again. "It should improve his manners by a little, don't you think?"

"I'm so for it," I say.

"We have everything prepared. Jimmy already has the explosive - it's not destructive, but it should be enough to completely wreck that car. We also plan to leave him a message somehow, something like If you keep acting like a sick bastard, next time, YOU will blow up. It should scare him enough to quit his 'journalist' carreer and leave others' business alone!"

"Perfect," I say. "Pure perfection."

"Okay! I'll be expecting you today at four in the morning. I'm glad to have you back."

I end the call and turn away.

Damn. Alexis is standing there and she apparently heard the whole talk.

<<>>

"Oh, Lex," I say. "It's not..."

My sister sighs. "If you expect me to talk you out of it, you're wrong this time. During our little... hiatus, I realized that you're right. You are already old enough to make your own way and I have no right to influence your life anyhow."

The look in her eyes behind glasses tells me that she's being sincere with me.

"I can help to finally punish McFarlane!" I say. "For everything he has done to Father. It's not because of Cole. To be honest, I don't want to see him anymore, but..."

"You don't need to justify it," Alexis interrupts me. "Diane, hear me out. You already have your own experience with that... group. You already know all upsides and downsides. And also dangers. You are old enough to evaluate it and decide yourself. Is it worth the risk? Is Cole sincere to you when he apologized? Do you trust him? It's all up to you."

"But you don't want me to go, right?"

"It's not important what do I want."

"But you'd prefer if I didn't go."

Alexis shrugs. "I can't deny. I hate McFarlane and I'd love if his car got blown up, but you're right, I'd prefer if you weren't involved. You don't know what kind of explosives do they have and if they can handle it right. Then, they may get caught by the police - McFarlane won't stop until he catches the people who destroyed his car. And finally... Cole already let you down once. Do you want to risk it again?"

"He promised..."

"And do you believe he'll keep the promise? He's a man. Musician. Deliquent. And you are a beautiful girl. I'm afraid he won't just brush it off so simply. I think he'll attempt it again."

I think about it and my inner conflict has never been more intense. Half of me wants to follow Alexis' words. Cole broke my trust and I'm not sure if I'm willing to forgive him. But I also want to re-join the group. To feel the thrill of doing something rebellious. Maybe I'd take it more casually, without cutting off my family and friends.

That was my biggest mistake. Choosing the gang over Alexis who only cared about my safety.

I make my mind.

"I'm not going," I say. "I'm done with Cole for good. I, as you put it, evaluated all the upsides and downsides and realized it's definitely not worth it. I almost lost touch with Annie, argued with you, developed some seriously bad habits... nope, I'll stay at home tonight. I'll try to find a new gang, a gang which won't attempt to rape me or make me commit crimes," I sneer.

"Do you really want it?" Alexis asks. "Aren't you doing it because of me?"

"No, not at all. What Cole did shouldn't be forgiven so easily. It was a nice experience, but I realize I don't want to continue it. I'll let them blow that thing up by themselves."

Alexis smiles at me. "That sounded almost like an adult woman, Diane."

<<>>

The next day, I feel pretty good and relaxed, knowing that Cole and his gang has no power over me anymore. Thanks to Alexis, I broke free. I hope I won't see him ever again.

However, my good mood disappears rapidly as soon as I open my internet browser. There's a big headline on the city's news webpage:

Teenagers died during a failed terrorist attack

With shaking hand, racing heart and a very bad feeling, I open the article:

Tonight, a group of teenagers attempted to organize a terrorist attack aimed against a famous journalist, Leonard McFarlane (47). They wanted to attach a homemade explosive to the journalist's car; due to the explosive's poor quality, it backfired and exploded prematurely. Three members of the group died on the spot: Cole Bishop (✝20), Nicoletta May (✝17) and James Green (✝18). All other members were injured and some of them remain in a critical condition...

I start to cry - half because Cole, Nico and Jimmy are dead, half because I could be among them when it happened. Alexis walks into the room and without questioning my tears, she reads the article. Then she hugs me tight, just like she always does.

"Sis?" I say as soon as I'm able to speak again. "You saved my life."

"No, that's wrong," she replies. "You saved it yourself."

<<>>

Helpless

Anna Lightfoot's story

Ten years before the first chapter

<<>>

Even though dad is a bit nervous during long car rides, I love them. The surroundings behind the back seat's window are constantly changing - huge, modern cities, smaller towns, village areas and even forests and lakes. Today, we travelled outside Gabriel's Gardens, which doesn't happen very often.

It's shortly after January 1st, and that means my parents will go and hunt the after-Christmas sales. Even though the shopping districts of Gabriel's Gardens offer many different brands and stores, there are some that exist only outside the city. And my mom always wants to visit them all.

I learned to like these shopping trips. Mom and dad can always be convinced to buy me a book or some supplies for drawing. In fact, they are happy to do so - everyone says that my artistic skills are advanced for a seven-years-old child. They want to support and encourage my talent and I'm grateful for that.

"Oh damn, the road is so icy today," dad complains. He's a tall, burly man with a big, soft beard working as a manager of a chain store company. There is basically only one opportunity where he loses his temper - when he's driving. When he does, his face turns red and he clenches the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. Mom and me always secretly laugh at it.

"Come on, Dan. Don't swear in front of Annie," mom scolds him. Patricia Lightfoot is a pretty woman with beautiful blue eyes behind her eyeglasses and long, pitch-black hair - I inherited both of these traits and people often say I bear a striking resemblance to her. She writes books, publishes them and is a little famous for it. She lives her dream since books are her whole life - and dad allows her to spend her free time by writing and taking care of me since dad's salary is enough to keep the whole family going.

"And I'm just getting started," dad smiles.

I'm a little sad that my brother Augustus, who is sixteen already, didn't go with us. I like being with him, but he hates crowded, vibrant shopping centres - he's a quiet type and likes his peace. He sometimes gets rude when someone interrupts it.

I watch the surroundings while listening to the Coldplay song playing from the car radio. Dad calms down after a while and starts to discuss our future purchases with mom and even with me. I join the conversation eagerly, telling them about the gifts Santa forgot to bring me.

I love spending time with my family. Dad loves to play videogames with me when he has a free day while mom talks with me about books, teaches me new things better than the teachers at school and helps me improve my artistic talent - she can also draw and paint very well.

I have a great day ahead of me!

At least that's what I think before dad curses loudly and stomps at the brake. I hear the roar of the tires on the road while the car spins around.

I start to panic. "Mom! Dad! What's happening?"

Dad keeps rotating the steering wheel, mom covers her eyes and screams. And so I scream, too. Our screams are stopped by a loud crashing sound. The last thing I feel is my head hitting something hard, then everything turns black. Maybe it won't be a great day after all.

<<>>

I wake up shortly after.

My vision is blurry. I feel a heat on my face, but it's not like sunbathing in the summer. It's unpleasant. I want it to STOP! But it doesn't. It actually grows stronger and stronger.

When I completely regain my consciousness, I realize that I'm trapped in the car's wreckage. The car is so wrecked that I have no hope to escape.

And the wreckage is burning.

The oil inside the car probably ignited and the whole machine was set on fire. I see the majestic flames flickering on the background of the rising sun - we started our trip very early in the morning, while it was still dark. It's like the sun wants to take a look at a young girl, scared to death, threatened by the flames, slowly reconciling with the imminent death.

But... but I don't want to die! I'm just seven. Why does God want me so early? It's not fair. I have so many dreams I had no chance of fulfilling. I wanted to become a famous artist, maybe an author just like my mom, to fall in love and get married, to have sex even though I have no idea what it is.

Why? I've always tried to be good. To make my parents proud. I don't deserve to die! Not now! I start to chant silent prayers, asking God to spare my young life.

The strange thing is that even though a big part of me is squashed in the wreckage, I don't feel any pain. Maybe it's the God's mercy. I just feel the heat coming from the flame and a dull pain in my head caused by the impact from earlier. Other than that... nothing.

When praying tires me too much, I start to quietly cry as I look around the wreckage. Because I'm laying on my side, I can't see my parents on the front seats. All I see are mom's glasses under the cracked windshield. They are also cracked. Broken. Just like me.

"Mom...? Dad...?" I say. Maybe they can help me.

No response. And the fire is getting hotter and hotter...

Maybe they are no more. Maybe they are dead...

What would I do without mom and dad? I can't even imagine it. Yet they don't show any signs they're alive on the front seats. Maybe they just passed out. But it's more probable that the crash ended their lives.

It seems I'm orphaned. Some of my favorite book heroes are orphaned, but I've never thought it can happen to me, too. My life was always so problem-free. All I had to do was being a good girl and draw pictures, and also go to school later on.

Maybe I took it all for granted and this is my punishment. I was too careless, so God decided to pull me through this test to make me more grateful for everything I have. But why did he choose such a rough way? I still feel I don't deserve this. That it's not my time yet.

As minutes pass, my panic rises alongside the sun in the sky.

So I start to scream. No words, just howl at the sky until my lungs star to hurt. I feel that my consciousness is slowly leaving me. That I'll pass off again soon and this time, I may not wake up again.

"HELP ME!" I scream. "GOD! ANYONE! HELP ME!"

That strange numbness in my limbs... the heat on my skin... I can't hold on for much longer.

"Help... me..." I rasp; it's all I can do.

I think I hear something in the distance, but it can also be my imagination. I don't trust my senses anymore.

Then I feel some touch on my shoulder.

I turn my head and see a blurry face of an older man in a firefighter helmet. He smiles at me. Is it an angel disguised as a firefighter who has to carry me to Heaven? Or is it an actual firefighter?

"Don't worry, little one," he says with a deep, calming voice. "I'm here with you."

I smile at him and pass out.

<<>>

Gabriel's Gardens, several hours later

I don't mind being home alone. In fact, I enjoy it. I let my parents and sister do their silly shopping while I finally enjoy a day of complete silence and peace. Don't get me wrong, I love all three and especially Annie who is the only one who can fully appreciate my presence, but sometimes I just need a day on my own.

I'm watching The Simpsons on TV while sipping from a bottle of Coke. Most people my age, sixteen, would probably use this opportunity to throw a party, but not me - I'm like a dog, always hungry and scared of loud noises. Besides that, I have, like, two people I can call friends. Most of the time, I'm satisfied either by myself or accompanied by my little sis.

I laugh - Homer did something stupid again and it just never gets old.

It seems that the introversion runs in our family. Dad told me about his youth several times. My mom was a bookish nerd and dad was that one weird chubby kid obsessed with Star Wars. He often says, with a dreamy smile, that they were made for each other - a young, aspiring writer and an economy student, both unpopular among their peers.

They are indeed a perfect couple, even though dad is more materialistic while mom is a free spirit who often uses words I haven't heard in my entire life. Me and Annie are like a combination of them both.

Suddenly, I hear a knock at the door.

I look at my wristwatch. It's too early for the parents and Annie to return. Maybe the stores were closed? They decided to return home earlier? Who knows.

I'm surprised to see two police officers, a short woman in her thirties with black hair and dazzling blue eyes with a tall, slim Afroamerican man. Both have a strange expression on their faces. I'm starting to be slightly afraid - what do they want? "Augustus Lightfoot?" the woman asks.

"Uhm... yes," I reply.

"Can we come in?"

"Sure."

I lead the officers to the living room of our flat in Serenity Square district where they take a seat. The woman sighs. "I have... unpleasant news for you, Mr. Lightfoot," she continues. "Your family got engaged in a car crash this morning. The doctors did everything possible, but... I'm so sorry. Your parents' wounds were too serious. They didn't make it. I'm so sorry."

For a while, I refuse to believe what I just heard. They didn't make it.

They are dead.

I have no idea what to say, what to feel, what to do. They just come here and tell me that I'm an orphan now, that my life will never be the same again, that I lost people I loved the most. They are telling me some more details about the accident, but I don't listen.

I can feel tears rolling down my face, my hands shaking. I am completely numb, empty.

Then I realize I forgot to ask about the most important thing.

"What about my sister? Anna?" I burst out. "Is she...?"

"Yes, she survived the crash," the man confirms.

"Where is she?" I bark. There is one person I want to be with right now and that's Annie. She's apparently the only one who remained in my life. I need to see her. Immediately.

"She's in the Everglow hospital," the woman replies. "She underwent a complex surgery, I don't have any info about her condition right now. I only know that she was severly injured."

No... that means she can die, too. How serious are her wounds? Will she remain disfigured, or in coma? I will be here for her no matter what. She will need it, just like me. "I want to visit her. Right now," I say.

"Maybe she's not yet awake from the anesthesia," the male officer objects.

"I don't mind. I need to see her... to know what's with her!"

The female nods. "Okay. Get into the car."

<<>>

Everglow Hospital, Serenity Cliff district

I wake up to a sea of white. I'm starting to think I'm dead and this is the Afterlife, but then I realize I'm in a hospital room. Fortunately, it's neat and clean. My head is spinning and I feel dizzy. Strangely, that numb feeling from the wrecked car didn't go away and I still don't feel any pain.

Is it good or bad?

I see an IV in my arm and a screen recording my heartbeat. It tells me I'm still alive.

But what is life without my parents?

"Annie?" I hear a familiar voice. "Sis?"

I turn to the other side and see two figures - one is a doctor in his fifties. The second... I'm so relieved to see that skinny, a bit hunched up figure with shaggy hair, eyeglasses and acne-plagued face. "Gus...?" I say and it finally hurts a little. My head spins even harder.

"Annie... oh God, Annie, good to see you alive." Augustus is crying, holding my hand. "But... but now, it's just two of us, Annie. Mom and dad..." his voice fails and he starts to sob; it's scary to see him like this.

"They died," I say, surprised how easily did the words slip through my lips. Maybe because I already did my mourning in the car. I didn't expect them to be alive, but I'm still let down. But at least Augustus is here. My mature, responsible brother offers me support even though he's also emotionally destroyed right now.

"Annie?" the doctor speaks. "You underwent a complex surgery and we managed to save your life, but... even today's medicine cannot do miracles. I have to tell you the accident won't be without consequences for you. I'm sorry."

"I already lost my parents!" I yowl. "What else do you want?!"

These words aren't for the doctor, but for God. Why does he torture me like this?

I try to move. Head - okay. Left arm - okay. Right arm - it's in the plaster, but I can move it a little. Body - okay. Legs... oh dear.

I can't feel my legs at all, the less move them. A cold sweat emerges on my skin. I frantically try to move my legs, but the numbness is impentrable. "My legs..." I whisper.

Cosequences...

The doctor sighs. "That's right, Annie. Your spine was damaged during the accident. We managed to repair it enough so you can freely move your upper body, but I'm afraid that you'll never be able to walk again. The repair of the damaged part would be too risky and would probably make the situation only worse. We are satisfied with what could we do for you and didn't want to risk anymore."

"I understand," I voice. "Thank you, Sir."

Augustus doesn't share my gratitude. "What do you mean, never be able to walk again?!" he yells at the doctor. "She's gonna be crippled for life and you aren't gonna do anything about it? We..."

"Gus!" I shout. "Leave him alone. He did everything he could. I'm alive and I'm still able to move my upper body... I think that's more I could wish for. Calm down... please."

"But Annie..."

"I will learn to live with it... somehow."

"Sir, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave," the doctor says, unaffected by brother's burst of anger. He's probably used to the patients or their relatives blaming him for their condition. "Your sister is weak after the surgery and she needs to rest." He looks at me. "Annie, you will now get some sleep. Don't worry about anything. Paraplegics can live a full, meaningful life nowadays."

"I know," I nod. "I'll have... wheelchair and such, right?"

"Yes," the doctor replies. "Don't worry. You're a strong girl. You can do it."

Both men leave and I'm left alone in the room. I know I'm supposed to sleep, but I can't. All I can do is cry. My parents are dead. I'll never be able to walk again. Why? How could this happen to me? I have to hold back my screaming, aware that there are more patients in the neighbouring rooms.

Even though I survived, my life ended.

<<>>

I spend long weeks in the hospital, recovering from the surgery. I feel so weak, fragile and vulnerable. I'm slowly reconciling with the fact I'll never be able to walk again. I didn't use the term getting used to, because that's exactly what I'm not.

I can't just simply explain it to people who didn't go through it. The feeling that your legs are useless, unable to feel. They turned into heavy, fleshy burdens which only slow me down. It's scary to not feel anything even when someone is touching them.

After I got better a bit, I start to practice moving on a wheelchair. It's just a standard hospital wheelchair and my weakened arms are barely able to move it, but Gus promised me that as soon as I leave, he'll get me a new, engine-powered one.

Speaking about Gus, he aged at least three years during this short period. It's way too much for him to take. The loss of parents, my condition... besides that, he spends lots of time with a lawyer, preparing to take legal actions against the man who caused the accident. That's at least a little plaster on the whole situation - the man from California is really rich and the accident was provably caused by the poor technical mainentance of his car, so he's most likely to pay very high damages.

Gus, however, spends majority of his free time with me. If there werent't his presence, assistance and encouraging words, I don't know what would I do. I feel completely helpless - he even has to carry me to the toilet. A basic human need I can't do on my own!

I start to realize that my whole life, starting now, will be like this. I'll be completely dependant on the others' help, limited in everything I do... I'm not sure if I want to live like this. But if I don't want to live, what should I do then? I remember myself in the wreckage, desperately begging God for my survival.

I survived. But it's probably another one of God's pranks that I'll have to live a half-life as a cripple. I don't find this funny! I feel so humiliated, so defeated.

It looks like I returned to my baby years - either Gus or one of the doctors have to help me with everything. Excretion, taking baths, getting dressed... the doctors keep telling me that I'll sooner or later learn how to do these simple tasks as soon as I get used to my condition a bit, but I really doubt it. I used to be pretty agile, but now I turned into a powerless, clumsy bag of flesh.

Gus has convinced the doctors so he could bring me a sketchbook and pencils, but my art, just like my body, suffered great damage. My drawings look miserable and usually end in a dustbin. I also try to read, but my mind can't focus on letters. All I can do is watch silly shows on my tablet computer, and even that can't get my full attention so I remember only about half of the content.

Will the rest of my life be like that? Just numbness, not being able to focus on anything?

I cry myself to sleep almost every day. Cry for everything I had and lost. What I took for granted. I'll never again see dad's hearty smile, hear mom's quiet, wise words. It also seems that a part of Gus died, too. Well, he used to be rude and touchy sometimes, but now, he looks exhausted, rarely speaks and his smiles seem forced. But can I blame him? A huge part of me died, too.

The doctors are all smiles and positivity, telling me that everything's better than expected. That even the scars and burns on my legs and right arm will eventually heal. But if you ask me, I'd rather be scarred, but able to move. All their smiles irritate me. I know they're doing their best to cheer me up, but their pretending that nothing's wrong and everything will be okay only works as a salt to my wounds.

Even though it's hard for me, I try to cooperate. It's clear that they want only the best for me and they're trying to improve my condition as much as possible. The rehabilitation is often painful and humiliating, but I endure. It's all I can do at the moment.

Endure. My whole life narrowed to this one word.

<<>>

After the long time I spent in the hospital, they finally release me. Good thing: Gus and the lawyer pushed the man who caused the accident into agreeing with out-of-court settlement. He paid an amount of money we could only dream about, but it was still less than he'd have to pay if he stood in front of the court.

We're now rich, but at what cost? I'd gladly throw away all these money to bring my parents and my legs back. The money will make our life easier, though.

Even though Augustus inherited the flat we lived in, we can't live on our own yet because Gus isn't eighteen yet. That means we'll have to live with our grandparents in a small family house in South Haven.

"So, this is our new home," Gus announces as we arrive to the destination. We took a taxi since we don't have to care for the money anymore. Well, the house is really tiny, just right for two people. It looks like it's over a hundred years old even though Gabriel's Gardens themselves started its construction about sixty years ago.

Gus knocks at the old-school wooden door. They open almost immediately since the grandparents are expecting our arrival.

Winston and Martha Oldman (that's my mom's maiden name - dad's parents, the Lightfoots, live in Los Angeles) are both chubby, cute and friendly. I've visited them many times before and they were always nice to me. Winston's trademark features are a gray sweater and a majestic moustache, the only sign of hair that's left on his head. And yeah, also his explosive bursts of contagious laughter which we probably won't hear now because of the situation we're in.

Martha, wearing a plain black dress (probably still mourning for my mom, which is understandable) and her gray hair into a messy bun, approaches me on her short, stubby legs. "Oh, Annie, my dear," she hughs me tight. "Just... just how could this happen to you?"

That's what I'm asking myself for a while already, granny.

"Make yourself at home, children," grandpa says. "We've already prepared rooms for you. I think we'll be able to house you until Augustus grows older. The money are already on our account - don't worry, we won't use them for anything other than taking care of you, so you'll get as much as possible once the money will be transferred to you."

"I have to thank you... for everything," Gus says. He looks a bit relieved, maybe glad that he'll have at least some people to share his responsibility with. "If there weren't you, we'd probably have to go in some kind of orphanage... that's hard even to imagine."

"You don't have to thank us," Winston says. "What kind of grandparents would we be if we didn't help our grandchildren in need? Just come in. We'll settle you."

I enter the house and immediately realize that there'll be a problem - the old-school house where almost everything is made of wood is filled with staircases. Fortunately, I already have my own wheelchair - a beautiful black model with blue decorations. I use a joystick by my right hand to navigate it. It also has a "staircrawler" mode which helps me to overcome this obstacle, but I'm not sure if these stairs won't be too steep for it.

The home overall looks like that type you see in Christmas ads - it even has a fireplace in the living room. The wall units are filled with books and various small decorations and statues with a sentimental value. A pleasant smell lingers in the air - granny probably cooked something good for us.

Even though the wheelchair is a high-quality model and its control is more than precise, I still feel clumsy, like I'm ought to drive into the wall and break something valuable at any given moment. No, I'm still not used to it and I still wish my legs were back.

So this ancient cottage will be my home for the next two years.

Granny Martha serves us lunch and she keeps serving me and asking if everything's okay. I know she's just being nice, but Jesus, I may be paralysed, but I'm not incapable. Since eating doesn't require my legs, I can do it pretty well by myself.

Fortunately, the grandparents were sensible enough to establish my room in the ground floor. Grandpa had to sacrifice his work room and rebuild it and I feel guilty for it. However, the room is a bit more modern than the rest of the house - it has white walls and all my belongings, including my art supplies, books and computer, are there. Its only downside is its size - it's hard to navigate the wheelchair through the gap between the work table and the bed. But I guess I'll learn it somehow.

Most of all, I feel like sleeping. Fortunately, I've already learned to crawl from the wheelchair to the bed and dress and undress myself. I had a motivation, though - Gus seeing me naked was a humiliating experience even though he's my brother.

I close my eyes and fall asleep immediately, for the first time in my new home.

<<>>

Before I learn the official term, depression, I call it "the Great Sad".

The first Great Sad occured a few weeks after we moved in. It's several months since the accident now and I still didn't get used to it. I still attempt to move my legs and wonder why I'm not successful for a second. Even though I mastered the art of navigating the wheelchair, I still wish I could just run up the stairs instead of waiting eternity before the staircrawler gets me there.

And most importantly, I have trouble accepting that this will be permanent.

The doctors already did a few more examination and told me that attempting to cure my legs would probably make the things only worse. They call it a miracle I'm able to move at all - when they saw me and my damaged spine for the first time, they were almost sure I'll end up as either a quadruplegic or a vegetable.

I just sit in my room wearing underwear, looking at my legs. The doctors were right - there are no scars, no trace that I've gone through Hell. It's ironic and infuriating. Even though the legs are undamaged and smooth, they're unable to move. I'd prefer them to be scarred, but able to move.

For the hundreth time, I'm thinking whether it's worth to continue my life. I'm slowly forgetting these awful moments in the car wreckage where I begged for my life. I'm still afraid of death, but I'm also afraid of the life that lies ahead of me. Maybe even more.

Among the other art supplies in my room, there are scissors. The sharp ones. I already know that if I use them to slit my wrists, I'll eventually bleed to death. Maybe it would be quicker and less painful than living this life. Maybe it'd be a reasonable solution.

Like several times before, I just stare at the scissors, imagining them cutting through my skin... but like always, I can't find courage to do it. Why? Because of fear? Gus?

"Annie, come, the lunch is ready!" Gus shouts at me from the living room.

I ignore him and just keep staring at the scissors. Food is the last thing I need right now. Eating means that you want to preserve your life, to give your body enough fuel to keep going. Which I'm not sure I want. Maybe if I slowly starve myself to death...

Augustus calls me a few more times, then he enters the room.

I see shock in his face. He's used to seeing his sister, not this unkept, half-naked sack of sadness. "Annie?" he says. "It's time to eat. Is something wrong?"

"Yes," I smile grimly. "Pretty much everything, if you haven't noticed. Just tell me... why should I eat when I'm already dead? Gus... I think I can't take it anymore." I start to cry... again. "I'll never get used to this. I want to end it. This life will bring me only suffering!"

Augustus hugs me. "Never say such things again," he says firmly. "Do you realize how destroyed I am, seeing my eight-years-old sister talking about suicide? Annie, you can make it. I'm sure. It's probably inevitable that you'll feel depressed because of the... circumistances, but you mustn't think about ending your life. That's just not acceptable. Understand?"

I nod.

"Now let's get dressed and eat something," he smiles at me. "Granny's food should take all the sadness away. I think it's a fine reason to live for, right?"

"I guess." Granny is really a skilled cook and her meals are like little trips to paradise.

"And that's it," Gus says. "You have to find every possible reason to live. Even the tiniest ones count. And in the end, they'll just form a big collage which will be enough to motivate you to continue living. Please, don't give up. List me among those things. If you died, I would most probably give up, too. You're the only thing that keeps me going. And if you ever feel sad, tell me. I'll try to help."

During the Great Sads, I prefer to be alone, but I understand that it's dangerous if I just try to fight it on my own. I understand that Gus cares about me and my... how was that word he used? Suicide would probably destroy him. So I'll have to stay alive.

<<>>

Almost a year later, I have to return to school. Fortunately, the school allowed an exception and even though I was absent for the most of the school year, they let me just take several test to see if I'm skilled enough and since I did them just right, I'm advancing to the next class.

I'm aware that if I was in a higher grade, it wouldn't be so easy.

The school is equipped for handicapped students - that's another reason I can be considered lucky. There's already an impaired boy in the 6th grade, so I'm not in this alone. I was afraid that the others will laugh at me, ridicule my non-functional legs, but it doesn't happen. If someone talks to me regarding the accident, they mostly show compassion. Bullying someone because of such thing would be probably too much.

Anyway, I don't communicate with others much. The boys spend the breaks playing some Japanese card game everyone is obsessed with, the girls are making their first attempts to use make-up and clumsily talk about boys. I feel so much older than them. It's like the car crash hurled me ten years forward while keeping my body eight years old. But I don't mind. Popularity and grades are on my list of silly things which don't matter that much after I had to learn to live without parents and legs.

I am also absent more than the others. It's usually not because of physical problems - the doctors say that my condition is stable and shouldn't get much worse. It's my psychical condition which remains unstable.

Fortunately, I was able to get rid of suicidal thoughts. But that doesn't mean that the Great Sads stopped coming. I have episodes where, despite Augustus' urges, I lock myself in my room, boycotting all the efforts to make me feel better. But instead of staring at scissors or another tool which could potentially end my life, I stare blankly at the wall.

Gus and my grandparents always try to console me. I usually let them, but then, there are days where I just harden my shell and scream at anyone who approaches me. Sometimes, I say some really nasty and unfair things. I talk about killing myself just to unsettle them. Sometimes I even blame Gus for the accident - if he went with us, maybe we'd drive home a few minutes later or earlier and avoid the collision.

I know how horrible it is and I hate myself for that immediately after I recover.

Their reaction makes me feel even more guilty. Gus and the grandparents just quietly endure my hateful words with clenched lips and then, when I recover, they just act like nothing happened. This usually leads to another breakdown since I realize how awfully did I just treat them. They already have so many problems - they lost their relative, a child or a mother. And I decide to give them hell even more.

I just... I just don't know. I'm desperate. Indecisive.

I thought that returning to school will give my life at least some kind of order and direction, but I was wrong. It's actually even worse since at school, I have no people I can ask for support. The teachers and even some classmates pretend to care, but I can tell their interest is mostly fake.

The only upside of all this is a permanent excuse from sports classes which I hated since I started going to school. I am... I was quite slim and agile, but incredibly clumsy when it came to sports.

Some of the kids also ask me about my wheelchair and say how cool it is, which kinda flatters me. Less entertaining is them asking if they can try it out. Trust me, Jeff, it gets a bit old when you ride it for almost a year straight. If you had to use it, you'd pray for a possibility to let it go again.

And yes, there is one more thing I'm glad for. My ability to make art slowly returned. First, I tried to fight my Great Sads by drawing a pictures of them, the embodiments of sadness, and then destroying them. Then I started to draw some normal pictures and they, surprisingly, looked good.

So, in my spare time when I wasn't affected by the Great Sad, I started to practice again, both paper and digital art, striving to get better at it. Since I don't really need my legs to do my art, I manage to forget about the whole damn thing for at least a while.

My drawings still look awfully childish, but I try hard to improve them. And this little and seemingly unimportant fact manages to make me feel much better. I try to find articles about famous great people who were somehow impaired and still did great things. Ludwig van Beethoven was deaf, yet composed music. And Stephen Hawking? A guy completely paralyzed, yet coming up with groundbreaking theories.

Reading about people who opposed their fate and went on inspires me. So I do it as often as possible.

<<>>

Gus finally turned eighteen, so we can finally move back into our own flat. It was no problem for him to get me under his custody - he's now my official guardian and it feels good. The word "guardian" evokes some kind of angelic being with wings which creates forcefields to protect me and I like it.

Well, this "guardian" has permanently messy hair, nerdy glasses and a ton of pimples, but I still can't wish for better. It was hard to say goodbye to grandparents after two years together, but we all admit that the house is too small for four people and that state couldn't be maintained permanently.

The question is: isn't our old flat too big for two?

The moving company already transported all our belongings to the flat in Serenity Square, but it still feels empty. Probably because our parents won't be here anymore. Gus offered me that I could take mom's former room, but I refuse.

I feel it'd be some kind of offense towards mom's memory and besides that, I'm already used to having my "lair" in a small room - for some reason, I feel that smaller room could distract me from my work somehow.

I also think that the flat grew bigger, but that can be because I'm viewing it from a pespective of a person on a wheelchair. Everything seems bigger, less friendly, more hostile. I learned to ignore it to some degree, but it's hard to constantly drag other people's attention when you're an introvert.

"So it looks we're on our own, Annie," Gus smiles.

He helps me to re-establish my room; it's annoyingly neat right now, but I'm ready to soon turn it into a mess. That's my natural habitat - a room filled with art supplies and computer equipment with clothes scattered everywhere - who cleans their room is just too lazy to look for things, right?

My room is, however, almost full. Gus lets me use some of the damages so I can buy some stuff I need - because of this, I now own a top-performance computer, a flat-screen TV in my room, a Playstation and many other things. But yes, I'd trade them all for the ability to walk again.

Also, because of the damages we received, Gus doesn't have to work. He just spends all day with me and it makes me emotional. He basically gave up his social life to take care of me. We're apart only when we're at school. I would never make it without him.

"Gus?" I say when we finish dealing with my room.

"Yes?" he looks at me. He looks so tired, much older than he actually is. Even older than before, since starting now, all the responsibility will be on his shoulders. I saw granny teaching him how to cook - he was a bit clumsy in the beginning, then his meals started to be decent and now, it's delicious. Brother definitely learned a thing or two from the grandparents which will now help him in his adult life.

"Thank you... for everything," I say. "And sorry for all the times I was acting like a little brat, both to you and the grandparents." Lately, my depressions almost disappeared (almost) and I got almost used to my new condition (again almost). I think I'll be fine in a few years.

Now I'm glad I didn't decide to end my life two years ago. And also, it was Gus who prevented me from doing so. He is really my guardian. Literally.

"What kind of brother would I be if I didn't take care of you?" he utters, trying to sound detached. "Also... I would probably react much worse if I was in your situation. We can't blame you for your tantrums. It's hard for adult people to get used to such condition, what about a little girl?"

"But I was so mean..."

"Just let it go, sis."

I decide to make things up for all the times I've been mean, so I try to help Gus as much as possible, especially in the upcoming weeks where we'll have to settle in our re-established home and learn how to live on our own. It's hard for both of us and I have no reason to make it even worse.

When I'm attacked by the depression, which happens less and less often, I try to hide it as much as possible, usually by staying in my room and listening to music. Gus doesn't have to know that I'm still plagued by the thoughts about the life I lost, the life with my parents and my legs. The episodes, however, are usually short and are gone within a few hours.

We're both ready to make our lives better.

<<>>

I'm fourteen now.

The depressions are mostly gone, I have an attack roughly once a month and the frequency is still decreasing. And I finally got used to my wheelchair. The key to success was to stop perceiving it as the enemy, but rather as an ally who helps me to overcome my ill fate.

Gus also settled in our new life without bigger problems. He may seem unsociable or even rude to most people, but I know very well how brave and loving he is. He's a brother, a housewife and a cook in one person. I understand why he's not fond of other people very much.

On the other hand, I started to socialize a bit recently. I interact with my classmates a bit more than I did in my darker stage and I even found some friends despite my shy personality which needs some time to get comfortable with someone.

I used to be pretty sensitive about my condition in the past, but then I realized that it irritates me when people treat me like a delicate damsel. I appreciate when people treat me like a completely normal person, when they ignore my impairment. So I started to joke about it instead.

Initially, it was a bit hard to use the word "cripple" without feeling its negative, offensive vibe. But the more I learned to take my condition lightly, the less I am concerned by people who harbor prejudice against impaired people. It motivates me even further.

I want to prove them I'm not worthless, not useless. I often represent my school when it comes to IT, art and English competitions and I always push myself to the top positions. I improve my art even further and now I'm known as the best artist of my school.

And that's it. I'm no longer "the cripple" or "the girl on wheelchair", but "the girl who's got some art skills" or "the girl who hacked the school website" (okay, I did that only once to hone my skills, but they were asking for it since their security protocols were weak like my legs. Besides that, I didn't cause any harm, I only changed the school logos for the logos of famous fictional schools like Hogwarts or Beacon Academy).

Accepting my condition and learning to thrive even with it was the key to happiness. I basically stopped wishing that the accident never happened since I realized I'd be a completely different person if my life went normally. I wouldn't try so hard at everything I do. I'd probably end up as another average teenage girl with no special talents, just another part in the crowd.

I feel like glowstick. I had to be broken so I could shine.

Instead of cursing my fate, I reconciled with the fact that the life isn't only black and white. It has ups and downs and even if the fate decides to beat us black and blue, we must never lose hope and we have to keep going. I learned that there's something good in everything bad and something bad in everything good. I started to use a yin-yang symbol as my personal signature since the symbol basically sums up what did I just say.

<<>>

I attend a photography course where we learn how to take the best photos possible and how to make them even better using graphic software.

Nobody gives a damn about my impairment - here, only skills matter. And I have to admit I have some badass skills to show off. Everyone is also jealous because of my professional camera I bought using some of the money from the damages.

I already get on well with most of the people in the course, but I have yet to find a real friend. I try to throw away my shyness and approach someone, but one girl does the work for me. She looks like a tomboy street punk because of the T-shirt with a logo of some metal band I don't know, ripped jeans and spiky bracelet. She has, however, a pleasant smile and lively green eyes. She probably doesn't spend much time in the bathroom since her hair are one big mess with several bright red strands.

"Hey there, Professor X," she says and her smile indicates she didn't mean it as an insult.

I laugh. "Why did you call me that? Did all my hair fall off? Or does my face look like Patrick Stewart?"

The girl pats me on the shoulder - it's a nice experience since most people don't even think about touching me, like my condition was somehow contagious. "You have some skills," she says. "Well... it's a bit awkward, but... I kinda lag behind. Mind helping me a bit?"

I sneer at her. "What do you offer in return?"

"Come the heck on!" the girl rolls her eyes. "You have this big bad camera, this hi-tech badass wheelchair and yet you want something from me? I should be the one asking you for money since you seem to have more than enough, girl!"

"Maybe I didn't talk about money. There are more important things."

"What can be more important than some cold, hard cash? You obviously weren't completely broke before!"

"What about friendship?" I reply. "I need some allies in this cruel world and you seem just fine. I'm Anna, by the way. Anna Lightfoot, the Queen of ironic surnames."

She laughs again. "I'm Diane Warren. Nice to meet ya."

"That Diane Warren? The infamous girl who pick fights more often than any boy, who causes the teachers a migraine just by hearing her name? Oh dear, I should be honored. Maybe ask you for an autograph."

"Says the girl who hacked the school website. Well, I'm glad I shot to fame so quickly!"

"I hack stuff when I'm stressed. As you can see, I can't just walk it off."

We both burst into laughter again. I take a small piece of paper and write my address on it, then hand it to Diane. "Today at five?" I ask.

"Yeah, that should be fine. If I won't come on time, it means I'm lost."

Diane really arrives half an hour later and apologizes with a goofy smile. "Hey, Annie. If you're looking for a friend who's always on time and meets deadlines, I recommend befriending my sister. But I'm way funnier, though. Nobody's perfect, right?"

Gus peeks into the hallway - he's not used to having guests over. "Who's this?" he asks.

"Just a friend," I smile.

Brother wants to look annoyed, but I can see him hiding a smile. I know he's happy that I finally start to live a normal life, that I found friends. His make-believe anger, however, turns into a real one when Diane enters the flat while still wearing her sneakers.

"Hey!" he shouts. "Shoes off! The shoe rack is over there."

Diane takes off her shoes - she's not wearing any socks. She giggles. "Wow, your carpet is so fluffy. It's funny, walking on it barefoot. It tickles."

I take Diane to my room. She's amazed by my equipment. "Wow. I wanna be rich, too."

I smile grimly. "You wouldn't if you knew the cost of these money."

"Oh yeah, I see," Diane looks away in embarassement. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I say. "As you already know, I take this stuff lightly - it's better than constantly stressing about it and blaming my shitty life. In fact, it's the only way to survive while keeping your sanity."

"I think you're brave," Diane says. "I'd definitely go crazy if something like that happened to me. I can only imagine how much freedom you have lost."

"It took a while before I got used to it," I say. "I've considered many things, if you know what I mean. But let's not talk about it. What happened can't be undone, right? We should begin our education. Professor Annie is ready to teach you a trick or two!"

"Okay," Diane smiles. "Just one more question... who was that guy?"

"Gus, my brother. My guardian since my parents died."

"Sorry, Annie, but he looks... rude. I see him and I'm immediately grateful for my uptight nerd sister. How can you live with such a nitwit?"

"You wouldn't talk like this if you knew him better," I reply. "He has been my caretaker since I was seven. It's understandable that he doesn't appreciate distractions much."

"Got it, so I just have to avoid him and have my shoes off."

"Something like that."

Diane is so funny. I try to do what she originally came for - teach her something about graphic design -, but Diane's desire to make everything a joke ruins the effort. Soon after, I give up and just do silly teen things with her. It feels so weird. Almost... normal.

I don't want to tell Diane, but Gus entered the room a couple times, smiling at me. At us. I think he realizes that the depressive, resigned Anna is gone and will never return. True, I lost my legs, but despite that, I have everything I could wish for. That I grasped all the tiny reasons to live and transformed them into one big happiness. I am ready to keep going. I know my life can be awesome despite my impairment.

Yin and yang.

And I know that my parents somewhere up there are smiling, too.