(Alright. Today we start this thing. Today, we look outside the window and see what the world has to offer.)

* * *

Outside the Window

She tapped her pen impatiently on the paper before her. The pale light from the lamp on her desk flickered, and her eyes snapped over to it. She clicked her tongue angrily and banged her fist on the sturdy frame of the desk. Three-hundred words. That's all she needed. That was all she had to do. Normally, this would be fine. Just peachy. But to spend that many unnecessary words on the American government? It was completely absurd.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hand. When she lifted her hands and opened her eyes, she stared into a world that was a lot more interesting. Just out the window, a sea of life existed, going about its business as usual. And she wasn't being dramatic, either. Fish were swimming by, water swirling and rushing past in the way it did.

An octopus, all slimy tentacles included, strut about the ocean floor with an air of confidence, yet hiding its initial fear of being out in the open. It's horizontal pupils were focused on what appeared to be an early lunch - a small crab skittering across the sand, facing away from a deadly predator. A moment's hesitation, and snap! The crab was nowhere to be seen, and the octopus' beak clicked with glee.

Meanwhile, around all this commotion, anemones swayed in the ocean's 'breeze,' seaweed littered patches of the ocean floor, and many schools of fish hurried about, perhaps alerted by the predator's strike. It was an environment of life, a sea of colours and a land of mystery.

She blinked, catching herself in a daze. Her cheek hurt. Had she been leaning on it? How long? She checked the clock. An hour had passed. Yikes! Well, something told her it was worth it. She smiled, letting her eyes linger on the submarine window for a moment longer. It was a beautiful world. Maybe next time she could write about her backyard instead of politics.

2: Story 2: Knock Knock

(This tale enters the room of an author with a bit of a secret up her sleeve.)

* * *

Knock Knock

"At last." I cracked my knuckles, hovering my fingers above the keyboard. This novel was begging to be written, and I planned to be the one to do it. "Don't let the gem escape! Said Professor Goodsworth, fear struck in his eyes. I-I can't! It's falling too fast! Joey grasped air again and again, as the sapphire coloured diamond rolled closer and closer to the pit of lava beneath them..." I had a nasty habit of talking aloud when I wrote my stories. Anyone could be listening in, really, ears pressed to the door sucking on my every word like a delicious lollipop. Then again, this was the finale for my entire series, which had become madly popular among the people of America. Sure, other countries had bits and pieces of my fans, but I was occasionally swarmed with people knocking on my door asking if I truly was THE Angelia Grace Klempton. Which, of course, I was. Famous author of The Eternal Diamond. Yes, I know. I'm wonderful.

"Your efforts are futile, 'chosen ones'. Dr. H.P. Beck drawled from atop his futuristic circular panel. He held a remote control menacingly, and pressed it as deliberately as possible, sending a hoard of cyborg-"

Knock knock knock.

Blast! I was finally getting into the swing of things. Might as well answer if I'm out of it I suppose. The hardwood floors chilled my feet, which had been neatly tucked into my legs, emitting a skin-warmth that you wouldn't believe. What a bother this was, if it was my landlady again I would have to be firm in saying Please for the love of God do NOT disturb me.

However, upon opening the door revealed nothing but a line of white powder on the floor. Eugh, I don't think even my landlady would stoop to that level. I looked left and right down the hallway. Not a soul was to be seen. How strange. I knelt down to identify whatever this mystery powder was, and felt quite surprised when it was nothing but salt. Salt on a doorstep? The trends in youth were getting farther from normal every year that passed...

But I couldn't let this disable me from a long line of work ahead! Though I should clean up the mess. With a heavy sigh, I forced myself to peel my eyes away from my irresistible laptop that sat perched atop my wooden desk. What a lovely desk it was, varnish and all. I had gotten it from the thrift shop just down the road for a steal! Fifty dollars for something as attractive as that? I was definitely sold. With the thoughts of my desk swarming my mind, I grabbed a broom to sweep the mess away. I stepped through the doorway again, only to find that the mysterious line of salt was missing. Blink. Where did it go? Was there some sort of cleaning ninjas in this complex that I was unaware of?

How charming it would be to meet one of them. Oh, perhaps they watched my every move, swooning as Angelina Grace Klempton wrote her adored novel right before their eyes! Ah, the perks of a creative mind were simply luxurious. Though sometimes they led to horrible circumstances. How strange, that aroused a peculiar thought in my noggin... My, that only happened a couple years ago. How time flies when you're having fun.

But no matter! I had to conclude the Eternal Diamond before I lost this enthusiasm, or whatever was left of it. I slid on the floor, my eyes on my desk. Scampering inside of it, I worked my fingers almost immediately, grinning to myself as the words flowed on the screen.
"'You've done it again, Joey!' Eloise cheered, wrapping her arms around our hero and planting a wet, sloppy kiss on him. 'Gee willakers, Eloise! You sure are one spunky gal!' A little dazed by the kiss, Joey grinned as he twirled the diamond in his hands. 'Its Dr. Joey no-"

Knock knock knock.

For the love of all things sweet and cake-like! This was the final straw! Ugh, if this was a prank I would have to have a word with the culprit. Stomping towards the door, I swung it open violently.

"What?!" I snapped. A boy, in his late teens stood there, cowering. In his hands was an odd looking sort of bowl. Something clicked in my head. A ceramic bowl? Inside was a burning plant that reeked the smell of... Burning plant. I remembered I had read something about this plant while doing research for my novel, this plant was called sagebrush. As I looked at this man who trembled before my doorstep, waving the smoke towards me he proclaimed: "Be gone!"

"Excuse me? Get out of my house!" I bellowed angrily. The man jumped out of his skin, glancing in all directions frantically, as if he couldn't see me. The nerve!

"I'm not afraid of you!"

"Afraid? You should be terrified of what I will do if you don't scram!"

"Begone, evil-"

"LEAVE!" I thundered, slamming the door in his face. I huffed a sigh, still fuming as I marched to the kitchen. Maybe a snack would cool me off. I bit a large chunk out of an apple, chewing furiously. That man really had no respect for other peoples property! Humph! Honestly, I'd move out right now if I could! I had to admit I had a certain attachment to the corner store down the street, their ramen was simply supreme! There were no places available for sale anyway, what rotten luck. Well, I suppose I wouldn't find a house as nice as this even if I did try looking. It was quaint, and had a certain flair that I couldn't resist.

Hm. I suppose I should send that story to my editor, so it can be published. What a bother. I threw my apple core in the compost bag and sauntered back to my lovely desk. Sliding into my usual position I finished the very last sentence of The Erernal Diamond.

"'Maybe we'll be famous, Eloise. Somewhere out there lies a whole new planet we can explore. Just look at the stars and pick one, I'll take you there.' Joey wrapped his arm around Eloise's waist, staring off into the sky as she pointed to what wasn't a star, but a blue and green planet. 'I want to go to Earth, Joey.' She said with a lopsided smile." At last! I whooped in happiness. My novel was complete! Hoo, that took longer than it should have. I dragged the file into an e-mail, and clicked send. Now all I had to do was wait.

In the meantime I decided I would check up on the latest news on the web. A car accident, mother and daughter reunited after 20 years of the daughter going missing... Then something caught my eye.

"Demon haunting still at large!" The article read. Demons? I don't believe in such supernatural things. Nevertheless, I decided I would take a look, if only to kill time. I related the information out loud.

"Today, at Southwater Springs the spirit said to be haunting an antique house still seems to be angered. Many people have tried to ward away this spirit, only to end in failure. Mr. Daniel Longwatch reports that even old remedies, such as burning sage and lining the area with salt have proven to be useless. Daniel was put into quite the fright when he went to investigate for himself. Quote on quote: "That was the scariest s*** I've ever done. Please, don't go in there!" Mr. Longwatch provides this warning with his statement, so it should be known to the public to refrain from coming into contact with this house t any cost. More information will be spread as we find out more..."

What a bummer, I thought. Well, I had to admit I did enjoy the publicity. HmHm, I hope my editor enjoys my novel. I haven't been writing since the accident, after all. A bullet right through my eye and into my brain. The show must go on, I suppose.

3: Story 3: My Everything

As a boy, John was afraid of the water. Every single time he would tread near it or even get a single toe dipped in he would cry. This was very troubling, as you can imagine, for his mother. She wanted him to learn how to swim so he could better handle himself in case she wasn't there. But John went ballistic when his mother asked him if he wanted to swim. He absolutely refused in every way, shaking his head over and over again. As a boy, he was too small to learn, his mother thought. 

As a teenager, John became curious. He was still terrified at even the thought of setting his foot in the sea. Going to the beach and sitting on the sand was enough to set him on edge in the first place! But it wasn't the water that John became curious about, no, it was what lied within. Throughout elementary school he had learned a few things about the oceans many creatures, like clown fish and even the Anglerfish. Never then had he wanted to dig deeper and uncover the other mysteries that lay undiscovered, never! But now, as a young man, he couldn't help but be lured into ocean lore as the days passed. He started to find it fascinating, how swordfish and marlin are the quickest fish alive, getting up to speeds of 121 kph! The endless mystery enthralled him and kept him wanting to know more. He learned that a grand majority of the ocean was still undiscovered. That was when John discovered his dream. As a teenager, John wanted to become a scuba diver and discover the unknown with his own eyes.

* * *

As a man, John took deep, shaky breaths. That day was his first embankment into the ocean. However, John still had his fear of the water but refrained from ever letting it show. Not even his closest colleagues knew his secret. John knew he had to do this, he couldn't waste all those years he spent studying only to chicken out in the heat of the moment! That was unforgivable, in his book, at least.

"Are you ready?" His companion, friend, and 'adopted' brother Sam had asked before they left, swiping a lock of brown hair out of his face. John had met Sam in his high school years, and even went on to taking the same courses in University. Needless to say, their bond was tighter than brothers, never ending, and never failing. John gulped down the lump in his throat, shook his head around a bit, and responded.

"As I'll ever be."

The boys were lowered into the ebony abyss of the ocean. They were to investigate and discover as much as they could about a patch of water. John and Sam's instructions were to obtain sand and water samples, as well as photographing any creatures they came across. Of course, many of the creatures they were going to see were common, but this was their first mission so they were given something more lax and inevitably, not dangerous.

John was mesmerized by the beauty that surrounded him. Anemones, coral, schools of fish of all kinds... His breath was taken away. The sound of the water flowing around him, how the lush plant life swayed. It had a tranquil effect on him.

"Hey! We're not just here for sightseeing, Johnny!" Sam called over to him.

"Right." John got his head back in the game, taking out his camera as he went. Snap! Went the camera as a jellyfish swam by. Snap! Again, catching a royal gramma by surprise.

"Johnny! Come look at this one, isn't it weird?" John drifted over to where Sam had snapped a picture of a blowfish that looked ready to burst.

"Sam, you've taken how many years of schooling and you call a blowfish weird?" He laughed. Sam poked him on the shoulder. "You have to admit, it's pretty weird."

"You've always said that about blowfish."

"Old habits die hard, I guess." John rolled his eyes from inside his scuba uniform. "Right, we should get those sand samples really quick."

"Whaaaat?! Aw, Johnny you're such a buzzkill!" Sam put his hands on his hips mockingly, but followed John to the sand.

"Well, obviously I learned from the best." John snickered, scooping some sand into a vial.

"Pssh, as if. That probably means that girl you always hung around after classes. What was her name? Oh, Miranda." He cackled to himself while extending each syllable of Miranda's name. John flushed, glad that Sam couldn't see through his mask. "We weren't always together..."

"Come off it, I'm sure that someday you two will end up married. And me? Aw, yeah, I'll be the hottest bachelor out there! Everyone will have wish that they dated me when they had the chance!"

"Sam!" John laughed, still blushing. "You'll find someone, I'm sure of it."

"Really? You and I both know that's not how it will-" Sam cut himself off with a loud yell. John turned as fast as he could, only to witness a large stingray moving from where Sam had just laid his foot. Provoked, the ray attacked, sending an electrical shock through Sam. His body twitched a little, and the stingray took the opportunity and swam off into the endless blue sea.

"Sam!" John cried out, swimming as fast as he could to his friend. "Speak to me!" No response. John started to hyperventilate, his hands shook as he pressed the emergency button.

"C-Calling for emergency! My partner has just been injured! I don't know if he's breathing or not! P-Please! Help us, this is an emergency! I repeat, this is an emergency!"

A smooth voice followed a second after mine. "Right, I just sent a boat to come retrieve you at once. It will be there in five minutes, tops. Are you able to get your partner to the surface?"

"I-I think so," John gulped and took a deep breath. "Sorry- Yes. I should be able to."

"Excellent. I won't leave the line, so tell me if you're having any troubles." John wrapped his arms around Sam's waist. "Got it." He swam hard, harder than he ever had in his life. John's muscles strained with the added weight of his partner, but he pushed himself, unwilling to give up. Of all things to go wrong on his first expedition... No! He could not let something as simple as this prevent him from ever stepping in water again! John had come this far, there was no turning back! The water was turning brighter- the surface was in sight! John clenched his fist, tightening his grip on Sam. He was so close!

As John breached the surface of the water, the once quiet sounds of the water evaporated to the thundering waves of the sea. He did a quick 360- the faint shadow of a boat was in sight.

"I can see the boat, I was able to bring Sam- er, my companion to the surface."

"Great! You should only have to wait a minute for the boat... Are you all right?" The girl on the radio asked.

"I think so." John replied.

It was only a matter of minutes before John and Sam were spotted by the boat and quickly pulled on board. The medics on the boat began examining Sam at once. John could only worriedly watch as they performed CPR over and over. John closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temples. Please, he thought, Please let him live...

A wheezy cough broke John's plea. Sam was keeled over, hacking but breathing. Alive. John couldn't stop himself from laughing, crying, and scooting over to where his friend recovered.

"You're okay... You're okay..." John repeated over and over, pulling Sam in for a hug.

"'Course... Did you really think I'd *cough* go like that? That stingray was pretty fierce, I tell ya. You probably shouldn't *wheeze* step on them." Sam grinned like he always did, and always will. As a man, John experienced the fear of death.

* * *

As an elder, John was wise. One day, he decided to take his wife Miranda on a beach picnic, just the two of them. They had been busy for so long, and John knew how much his wife loved the sound of the sea brushing against the rocks, the smell of salt spray, everything about the ocean appealed to her. John hadn't witnessed the ocean in 15 years, since he retired as an experienced and well honored marine biologist. Halfway through his time as a scuba diver he had decided to settle down from his swimming days, and take a new approach to his dream. In his time, John helped discover hundreds of new species in the ocean. His wife, Miranda, had been his assistant at times, but could still point out the obvious when John was oblivious to simple things. They had ended up in the same department, and just as Sam predicted ended up getting married. John and Miranda were expecting grandchildren, and soon!

But this wasn't the time to dwell on the past, as John escorted his wife to the place he had in mind.

"Where are we going, dear?" She would ask time and time again.

"How many times do I have to remind you it's a surprise? I shan't ruin this momentous occasion!"

"Occasion? Why, Johnathon! You remembered!"

"Of course I did. Open your eyes, Miranda."

John watched as the confused expression on Miranda's face slowly changed to that of incredible joy.

"Oh, John! It's beautiful! Oh, thank you so much!" She wiped her eyes, gazing at the splendid scene before them. The water was crystal clear, the sand silk soft to the touch. John had set up a small umbrella and towels for them to sit on. (A comfy cushion for Miranda, for her hips were starting to bring more pain with every coming day) Needless to say, Miranda was quite flustered. "You didn't have to do this!"

"Happy Anniversary." John gave her a peck on the cheek. "Er- hold on, I want to check something with that lifeguard over there..."

"Oh, John, it will be fine, this is a beach after all." She shook her head, smiling. John put a finger to her lips. "Ah, ah. This is for you, and I want to make it special. It won't hurt to assure myself of your safety." Miranda rolled her eyes, but waved for him to go. John watched as she leaned on her cane and made her way to the towels. He then took a breath and waltzed to a rather tan looking fellow.

"Er- excuse me?" He called.

"Yeah? What is it?" The lifeguard leaned over his stand, curious.

"I- er, just wanted to make sure that there aren't any, ah, sea plants or creatures, right?"

The lifeguard blinked, a little confused. "Of course there isn't, this beach is known for its clear water! No need to worry, sir."

John sighed in relief and nodded. For a second his mind wandered and he thought of Sam. My, he had grown as well, married and already with grandchildren. His mind flashed to when Sam had breathed again, when John was sure that he was dead. John felt the tears well up in his eyes. Why was he getting so emotional about what never happened? Sam was alive and well, not dead for another 10 years at least! He was still as spry and energetic as he had been before! But, thinking back to it, John smiled as the tears flowed uncontrollably down his face. The inner joy he felt back then filling him now once more.

"S-sir? Are you okay?" The life guard asked, concerned.

"Oh, John dear, come. You've worried the man now. Excuse us, please." Miranda smiled kindly at the lifeguard, placing an arm around John's shoulder.

"Miranda? Why weren't you by the towels?"

"Come, John. You are my everything, I need you with me on a day like this. Isn't the ocean beautiful...?"

"Yes, yes it is." John wiped his eyes, gazing at the serene water. It was then that he realized that as Miranda was his everything, Sam was as well. John walked with Miranda, hand in hand, back to their picnic. As an elder, John is happy.

4: Story 4: Trapped in the Real World

(A/N: This little tiddy is about a man who wakes up in a world unlike his own. He struggles to free himself, and - well, I'm not spoiling all of it.)

* * *

The man woke with a start. His eyes skittered around the oval cell-like pod he was contained in. When he tried to push his way out, he found his hands were bound by a strange, sticky, green rope. He had no idea where he was, and panic started to rise in his throat. Gulping down the lump, the man struggled against his bindings. Surprisingly, they came off as easy and felt like a spiderweb. Touching a hand to the clear pod, it opened. The man sat up, and looked at his surroundings. Rows upon rows of pods, identical to his , surrounded him. How many were there? Thousands? Billions? Panting, he tried to stand up on shaky legs. Using the pod as a support, he was able to stand and gaze around at the pods. It seemed there was no end to them at all. How did he get here?

The question lingered in his head, but no answer came. All he could remember was falling asleep next to his wife after sending his daughter to bed. As he picked off strips of spiderweb-like material from his body, a thought ran through the man's mind that terrified him. He needed to find his family as soon as possible. Taking a step forward, the man stumbled, like a child learning to walk for the first time. He staggered forward, determined to seek his wife's face again, to feel the laughter of his daughter fill the room. The little things he longed for. Soon he came to a black door, which contrasted against the bright white of the rest of the room. Nevertheless, he entered it, and found himself in a wide, mechanical room. It appeared to be the kind of room you'd see in movies, with all the controls for a spaceship, with one side exception.

A figure crouched in the center of the controls, scanning several screens blindingly fast. The creature was anything but human. A large cranium supported its giant mouth that held rows of jagged, sharp fangs. It had no eyes whatsoever, and was making odd clicking noises as it 'observed' the screens. The creatures body was that similar to a cheetah, if a cheetah could stand on its hind legs and be covered in scales that is. A long, slender tail dragged a heavy, spiked ball on its tip.

Upon glimpsing this horrid creature, the man let out a mix of a sob and a yelp. The thing jolted from its position, clicking loudly, a long tongue drooled a slimy liquid, and it's head faced the man with alertness. It growled, and let out a piercing shriek, so loud the man had to cover his ears, and run away blindly. He heard the creature pound behind him. It was chasing him. And soon it would outrun him. The man saw a set of snow white stairs ahead, and raced up them as fast as his legs would go. More pods. He couldn't help looking into the pods at this point. But when he looked in, the man leaned over to the side and had to vomit. Laying inside, in a peaceful slumber, was his daughter, and next to her was his wife. They were both covered in the same substance the man had been covered in. He pounded on the pod to his wife, and screamed.

"Honey! Can you hear me? Speak to me! Come back!" The tears ran down his face, causing the man to crumple on the pod. He couldn't reach her. He heard the clicking sounds again, this time it was right beside his ear, and he turned to face the creature once more. The man let out an inaudible cry as the lizard-like thing took him by the neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another creature, similar to the one that was grasping him. It spoke through clicks, though the man could still understand it.

"Fool! Inject the medicine, do not kill him, he is still alive! Send him to sleep!" The one that spoke this brought out a metal syringe, and pushed past the other. The other creature let out a grumble, but watched as the syringe got injected into the man's neck. The man blinked repeatedly, and felt his vision start to go black, as he was placed in an oval pod, alike all the others, wrapped in spiderweb substance, and trapped.

The man woke up, thrashing in bed. A calm, cool hand gingerly consoled him to stop moving, followed by a sweet, yet worried voice.

"Are you all right, dear?" His wife asked in a whisper. The man wiped sweat from his brow, gazed at his wife, and spoke shakily.

"Yes, it was just a nightmare."

5: Story 5: The Last Man

 

Jeff ducked down into the trenches, gasping for air and slumping his gun onto his lap. He coughed, spitting onto the dirt and wheezing. His lungs felt like someone had kindly lit them on fire, his body ached like it never had before. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept. It wasn't how he expected war would be like. Jeff thought in the very least that they would have been given enough food rations to cease the rumbling in his gut. It was just another thing that the Canadians stole from them.

Jeff recalled the passing looks from the townsfolk at home. How every able body, men and women alike, were called to war. The Canadian-American border had been destroyed – all that was left was the charred and shredded remains of his brothers and sisters. He remembered everyone gazing at him as though he was just another pig for slaughter. Maybe he was. After all, there wasn't any drinkable water left, hardly any food to get by, and hygiene was out of the question. Most died from disease instead of the foe.

He had only seen them a couple times from very far away. Beneath all that talk of world peace and maple syrup, the Canadians had been secretly creating a technological army, a force unlike any other. The AI was incredibly refined, able to kill an unarmed soldier without second thought. Point and shoot, just like a video game.

Jeff hacked again, spitting out a fair bit of blood. He wasn't fairing so well, either. He would have retreated to ask for help, but there wasn't another live human being in sight. It was a miracle that he survived the first wave of the robot warriors. Half of them gone in an instant. The rest scrambled to hang onto their already wasted lives, cowering in the trenches.

He cleared his throat, stiffening. Jeff knew he had to find a way out of this, whether he charged ahead and was blown to smithereens or could make it ten feet to camp before he was obliterated. The odds weren't exactly optimal.

All around him were corpses. Their limbs at impossible angles, muscle torn from their throats. Jessica, Lorne, Matthew. Just yesterday they laughed at whimsical things, dancing around the fire of the night. Jeff laughed, wiping his face. There really was no escape. Could he dig a hole and hide himself, hoping not to be discovered when the AI advanced again?

A rustle. Loss of breath. A quickened heartbeat, a painstakingly slow turn of his head. An impenetrable force of metal slicked in beside him, its single blue eye focusing on him. He pulled the trigger, the bullets bouncing off it like a trampoline. He whimpered, scuttling away as fast as his broken body would let him.

"So sorry," It apologized, transforming what was once a leg into a charging gun. "But we must keep you eagles away from us, eh?" A blinding flash of light, a noise reminiscent of a popping gun, and Jeff was everywhere.

6: Story 6: A Worthless Girl

(This story came to me when I was stuffing my face full of McDonalds fries. I'm considering just turning this into some sort of monologue, but I might keep it like this for a while. Warning: Feels ahead.)

* * *

A girl waits in line for her food, the McDonalds staff rushing around like racehorses. She stares at nothing, the blurs of the workers not registering in her mind as she ponders. What she ponders is unknown to her, for her mind lazily sloshes around in her head and refuses to do otherwise. She hears muffled and murmured voices that make no linguistic sense, the beeping of grills and fryers and more mindless chatter.

Her mind focuses momentarily on the lady ordering a few feet away. The lady wears a violet coat that charms her wide curves and speaks with no problem as she orders. A few punches in the debit machine later she bustles herself next to the girl with a quaint smile.

"Lovely day," she comments to the girl. "I think Spring's finally hit us!"

Was it a lovely day? The girl gazes outside and sees a world of darkness hidden behind birdsong and blossoming green trees.

"It's wonderful," the girl says. "Do you like Spring?"

"Certainly, it's my favourite season. Are you one for the flowers as well?" Her robust features gleam.

"Allergies," the girl utters. "I like Winter."

The lady chortles. "That'll do it." She pauses for several moments before speaking up again. "I must thank you for lending your ear to me, miss. Most just give me a nasty look."

She was kind.

"You're welcome," the girl says at last, not sure what else to say. "Most don't think I'm such a nice person." She hadn't meant for that to slip out. Her hands clam up and her chest is constricted by thick vines.

"Oh, dear. I can't possibly imagine why someone would think you're a bad person." The lady seemed confused as she adjusted her purple jacket.

"A bad person? Well, I'm not like everyone else. I like to read, I like to play video games, I like to think and theorize but people tell me I can't think too much. They don't like me for laughing too loud, for losing myself in a book's universe, for not being small enough to fit into that dress. No one wants a girl that can't assert herself but are quick to bark down on me for being "bossy;" I can't look in the mirror without noticing my stomach, without judging myself, hating that reflection. They want girls who are more sporty, so I join the team and feel so out of place because I hear the whispers, I see them giggle and laugh and point and smirk and sneer until I leave them. I can't walk into the classroom because I hear and see and feel and am crushed by what they think, their eyes like boulders on my bones. I can't read, I can't play, I can't think because their words are always filling up my thoughts like a water balloon until it all finally bursts and I'm left as a scrap, a shred of garbage that's stepped on and finally thrown into the dumpster where she belongs. I'm a bad person because I let everything get to me; I can't even order a hamburger without my heart rushing like I'm in a marathon, my words stumbling over themselves like drunken men tumbling out of the bar. I'm a bad person because I have nowhere else to be."

A girl wants nothing more than to say this.

A girl needs to breathe.

A girl wants someone to finally listen, someone to prove her wrong.

A girl desperately wants to feel like she's someone.

But she chokes. The words are caught in her throat like a lump of food and she chokes.

"Are you alright?" The lady leans in, her purple coat jostling. A girl blinks and clears her throat. She nods and motions to her throat.

"Just caught something, sorry." A girl unwillingly lies.

"Order 73!" The worker calls, his words blurring in her head. A girl takes her baggie of food slowly and hesitantly walks away.

"Thank you," A girl smiles to the purple lady before returning to her broken thoughts. What more is a girl than worthless? A girl is only worthless when she has nothing else to call herself. A girl is on her last life, a boundless cliff before her.

A worthless girl wipes her eyes on a stained sleeve and leaves.