The Boy in the Lake

'LUCA!' 

Selene wanted to scream, to yell, to explode. But she couldn't, the sight had paralysed her. His head was bowed, and he was submerged up to his knees in the lake. His arms were bound out to his sides; leather straps tethered his wrists to two wooden posts protruding out of the murky water. His body was slumped, but upright enough that Selene knew he was still alive. Possibly barely.

Selene's instincts began to kick in; she surveyed her surroundings, listened for sounds of anyone watching and tried to formulate a plan of how to get Luca out of the lake as quick as possible. Seeing no other way, she resolved to wade through the lake, untie him and drag him back to the shore. As she was about to make her move, she was tackled to the ground. She was about to fight back, when she saw the flames on the forearm of her assailant. Rafe.

"Stay. Down." Rafe ordered in a whisper. 'But Luca' Selene thought, her desire to run to Luca was so strong, but her trust in Rafe won out and she listened to him. 

"He's bait." Rafe explained, like it would make her feel better. Instead, it just made her look at him with like she was going to kill him. Rafe rolled his eyes. "We have a plan. OK? Just stay down until we need you. You trust us, right?" Selene's angry gaze stayed on Rafe, but he knew she was wordlessly agreeing to listen to him. Mainly by the fact that she wasn't fighting him right now.

Selene lay on the ground, she could see Luca through the branches and foliage of the bushes that Rafe had launched her into, he looked so vulnerable. Luca as bait? Why was that a plan? She just wanted to get to him, to help him. This wasn't a feeling that she was used to, or really ever had. Instead of focusing on the danger he was in, Selene decided to fixate on Luca. The light coming from the trees was highlighting the muscles in his arms and shoulders. Selene just wanted to be wrapped in those strong arms again. He deserved better than this, this wasn't what he was raised for. He shouldn't be tied up like that, waiting to be captured, all because he wanted to help her save Rafe. 

Suddenly, Selene's senses sprung into action. She could here far off sounds of people approaching. Clipped, military voices sounding off. The enemy. LUCA. Rafe felt Selene's body jolt underneath him as she tried to spring herself up and towards Luca. He used all of his body weight to keep her still.

"We know what we are doing. You'll get to save him. I promise. Just not just yet."

The men were getting closer and closer, straight for the lake. And Luca was still the boy in the lake, tied up and alone.

Eye Contact

The bandages were beginning to get really uncomfortable; mostly due to her impatience at the immanent moment the doctor had been talking about for the last ten minutes - and she had been dreaming of her entire life - the moment when they would find out if the surgery had worked.

She could hear the doctor explaining her recovery, the chances that the surgery hadn't worked and what could be expected when the bandages came off. Jenna just wanted to tear the damn things off! The anticipation was physically making her skin itchy and her muscles felt like they were contracting. She wanted to scream.

"OK, Jenna, I think it's time." Jenna could feel the expectation, the nervous energy in the room.

"Jenna, I need you to have your eyes closed when we remove the bandages." Jenna closed her eyes tightly, like a child waiting for a surprise. She could feel the bindings around her head loosening, then disappearing. As the last of the material fell from her eyes, she could see light through her eyelids. She could see light. Jenna's heart rate accelerated and she wanted to open her eyes wide. But the doctor had told her to take things slow.

Jenna could feel someone stroked her hand, from sensory memory, and a life time of getting to know the feel of those hands, she knew it was her mum. 

"OK, honey, when you're ready, open your eyes." Jenna was beaming, and could hear her mother's voice break a little. 

Slowly, Jenna opened her eyes and, bit by bit, let the world in. At first, it was all a blur of light, colour and shapes. But then things began to come into focus. 

She. Could. See.

As the world around her came into focus, there was only one thing Jenna wanted to see: her mum. 

"I thought you said you had blue eyes, mum, they look grey." As tears fell down her mother's cheeks, at the age of seventeen, Jenna Fox looked her mother in the eyes for the first time.

Teddy Bear and her Boys

"Here's to one whole year with our Teddy Bear." Harry beamed as he raised his glass high. His was joined by five glasses, held by his best friends, his brothers, each one smiling at the only girl sat at their table. Teddy was smiling, and Harry she could see her blushing a little too. Teddy raised her glass.
"And here's to my boys." They all clinked glasses before taking a drink.

Dan looked across the table at Teddy. Her green eyes lit up with her smile at something Harry was saying. When she replied, a loud, belly laugh erupted from Harry as Mitch, who was sat at the other side of Teddy, yelled 'Burn!'. That girl could dish it out as well as any of the guys. It was hard to believe it had only been a year since Teddy had come into their lives. She had been so shy then, so quiet. She was still as private now, she kept so much to herself, but she could be just as loud and boisterous as the guys, And, boy, did she know how to put all six of us in their place. 

Dan and the boys had been a tight-knit group for over ten years, since school, and the group had always been all male. That was until Teddy. All the guys looked at Teddy like a little sister. Someone to protect. All of them - except Dan. He damn sure wanted to protect her but it was not brotherly love that Dan felt for Theadora Louise McCallum. He wanted to explore every inch of the curves of her body; to hear her tell him that she loved him the way that he loved her and he was constantly fighting the urge to grab her and kiss her and more. A lot more. Nope, nothing brotherly about it. Teddy looked up and her eyes locked with his, and she smiled. Dan smiled back. Something passed between them and he knew he should look away. He knew that if they kept this up, she'd work out what was going on with him. Dan saw a blush creep across Teddy's face,
"You know, Teddy, it's been a whole year and we know sweet F.A. about your life before us. You never talk about it." Mitch piped up. Teddy turned to look at him, breaking whatever was going on between her and Dan.
"Mitch. Leave it." Dan didn't raise his voice, but made it clear he was to be listened to. The guys had made a deal: no asking Teddy about her foster homes. Why the fuck would Mitch bring it up now?
"It's OK." Teddy's voice broke through Dan's anger. "I'm actually surprised you guys have never asked about it before." The boys all looked at Dan, the main reason the subject had never been broached.
"It was tough." Teddy looked down at her hands, which were clasped and resting on her lap. "Waiting to be adopted, but instead, being moved from foster home to foster home. Some were good, some...not so much. One that lead to too many hospital visits." Teddy glanced up to see six jaws, clenched in anger at the thought of her being hurt, She looked at Dan, his hand was in a fist and his eyes were darker. He wanted to hit something. Seeing how the boys reacted, she was reminded that she had found people who truly cared about her. Finally,
"Then there was my last foster home, with Jean and Paul. They took care of me, they really tried. But I was sixteen, and angry. My walls were too high and I was only there a little over a year, I never let them in. Jean died and Paul went not long after. Broken heart from losing his Jeanie." Teddy could feel the tears welling in eyes. "By that time, I was eighteen, and had a part time job, Social services didn't need to find me a new placement. I was on my own. I worked and went to college. Then I met Harry-Bo here," she smiled at the man who had introduced her to this band of brothers. He beamed back. "Then I met the rest of you clowns, and now, here we are," She looked around at her boys, smiling. "I guess, I never had anyone that I meant that much to," she shrugged. "until I met you guys."
"Aaahhh." Will, who was sat to Teddy's left, got up, walked up behind Teddy and wrapped her into a massive hug. "We love you, Teddy Bear."
"Yeah, we don't let any girl join our fun." Eddie piped up from his seat next to Dan. Teddy laughed and joked with the guys for a few minutes, but after talking about it all, some of the thoughts and memories had surfaced. Most of them painful. She tried to push them to the back of her mind.

The thoughts, combined with the noise and the crowd in the bar, began to get to Teddy and a feeling of claustrophobia was starting to set in. She told the guys she'd be back and headed for the door. She just needed to stand outside for a few minutes to get some air in the quiet street.

Dan had seen Teddy get uncomfortable and when she left the table, he went after her. He needed to tell her, and now was his chance. He loved the guys but being part of group who were always together had it's disadvantages. Not getting a chance to talk to Teddy alone, for example. Not without questions being asked anyway. Dan caught up to Teddy after she had left the bar. 

"Oh hi, Dan. You needing some fresh air too?"
"Not exactly."
Dan looked at Teddy in the eyes and grinned. He stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek with one hand, while the other arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned in and his lips met her's in a gentle kiss. The kiss intensified when he felt Teddy's hands hold him to her: one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck. Dan pulled back slightly.
"Just so you know, you don't mean 'that much' to me." he said shrugging the way Teddy had when she'd used the same phrase. Dan saw the hurt flash in those beautiful green eyes.
"You mean damn near everything to me." He held her tightly to him, both arms wrapped around her waist, not wanting to let her go. His forehead touching her's and he could see a smile that reached her eyes spread across her face. She tilted her head back slightly and gently pulled his down until his lips touched her's again.

Emma

Emma Darcy

Beloved Daughter

Cherished Friend

Born: 16.10.1992

Died: 04.03.2010

"Beloved daughter? BULLSHIT!" was all that Blake could say after reading the gravestone for the fifth time. "After all the black eyes and hospital visits, they write 'Beloved daughter'?" Blake's temper flared as he remembered what Emma's parents had put her through.

"They got the next line right though." knowing full well how angry this topic could make Blake, Gwen changed the subject as best she could. After getting no reply, Gwen turned to look at her brother and saw a familiar look on his face.

"Do you regret it? Not telling her, i mean?" Blake was thoughtful for a moment before replying.

"No, if she had said no, then well it'd be shit, you know, but if she had said yes, and we'd gotten to be together, losing her would have fucking killed me."

"If someone knew what her answer would have been, would you want to know?"

"She told you?" He asked flatly, not taking his eyes off the gravestone,

"Yeah, but she didn't need to."

"I don't know."

"OK." The twins stood in silence, looking at the last physical reminder of the girl who had been cruelly taken from them.

"Maybe you should tell her now, get it out but you wont get an answer. I'll go, you say goodbye." Gwen walked towards the large grey slab, placed his hand on the top and whispered, 

"Goodbye Emms." Tears welling in her eyes. And with that, she walked away, and didn't look back.

Forgiveness

It's not what we did that is unforgivable to her. She's forgiven me. at least a little. It's that it was you that did it, that she cant forgive. We both did the exact same thing but we didn't hurt her the same way. I hurt her as the idiot ex who stuck around. Someone she cares enough about to forgive but not enough to truly hurt her. You hurt her as a guy she loves beyond all reason, the person she truly trusted not to betray her. Then you did it. I inflicted the equivalent of a a fractured finger, but you? You're a few broken bones, possibly a stab wound. You want her forgiveness? You want her? Then go earn it, earn her. Apologise. Not once, but over and over and over again. Be sincere. Hell, grovel. Embarrass yourself. Promise her that you will spend the rest of your life proving to her that you wont betray her ever again, and mean it. Don't just tell her you love her, SHOW her. Make it your life's work.

'Missing: Snow White'

Looking through the clear plastic lid at where is true love should have been, all Prince Flaurien could see was a small bouquet of wild flowers, that the dwarves had lovingly picked and placed in the coffin, lying lifeless where once a beauty with skin as white as freshly fallen snow, had been in a deep sleep. She was gone. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Had someone taken her? Or had someone else shared true love's kiss with is princess and woken her? Surely, they couldn't have happened. He was her prince. He had danced with her at the ball and spoken words of love to her as she stood high above him on the balcony. It was he who had searched the kingdom, spent nights, devoid of comfort and luxury, in the woods, succeeding where the Queen's men had failed - he had found where the Princess had fled to. It was improbable, no impossible, that another could be capable of breaking the spell.

"She'd have said 'Goodbye'." a voice reassured from across the royal resting place, "to us, I mean, if she'd woken up."
"Which means she's been taken." Prince Flaurien asserted, "I don't know if that's better or worse,"
"Both. Neither." The voice replied, Prince Flaurien looked up, reluctantly tearing his eyes from where a mass of ebony hair should have been fanned across the pillow. The voice had come from the apparent leader of this band of brothers, Doc.
"What it does mean," Doc continued, "is that she still needs help. It means, she is still your's to rescue."
"It's your destiny." Piped up the cheeriest of the Princess' new friends.
"Do we really think he's up to it?" a sour-face with salt-and-pepper hair and beard to match grumbled, " The fool's been staring at the box like it'll bring her back. It wont."

Determination once again filled the Prince. He would find his Princess, he would rescue her, he would prove Grumpy wrong. Feeling resolute, he opened the box and began to inspect the interior for clues. Anything to help him solve the Kingdom's biggest mystery: who had kidnapped the cursed Princess? Who had taken Snow White?

Secret Message.

I begged you, Walk away my darling,

You were never meant to be so near.

You should have listened to their dogma

For it would have gotten you away clean.

Instead, you claim, you followed your heart. 

To my love, you did succumb.

Enough to turn away from Mamma,

So it could be, forever, you and I.

But this is where that got you, my dear,

To this spot, married and loved but shunned and dead.

Light to Dark

"How do you know Barbie isn't a slut?" Lucy shrugged, waiting for the punchline of her best friend's, likely terrible, joke. 
"Because her legs don't open." Lucy laughed along with Julie, who evidently found her own joke hilarious. Julie always had a new joke to tell; all of which Julie would inevitably find hilarious, and the majority of which would cause Lucy to roll her eyes and laugh. 
           The Coffee Bean Inn was mostly quiet, except for the two seventeen year olds laughing about the sex life, or lack thereof, of the world's most famous woman-shaped lump of plastic. The girls had met at their favourate caffeine dispensary not long before. The night was early and, like all teenage best friends, they had much to tell each other while they sipped hot chocolate with marshmallows.



D.I. Colin Matthews stood, with his brow furrowed, looking at the body of a young girl slumped across the table of the corner booth. There were no signs of a struggle, no blood and no other indications that would make cause of death apparent. However, what struck Matthews most, was that he recognised the victim. Lucy Halloway. Lucy was one of his wife's drama students, one of the most talented too.
          Across the table from the harrowing sight of a young life ended before it had begun, was an empty booth seat covered in spilled hot chocolate, which was now the same temperature as the skin of the late teenager. The puddle had been smeared across the seat by someone leaving the booth. A Paul's Boutique bag had been left next to the window by the person who had previously occupied the space. A purse found in the bag contained the I.D, of Julianna Louise Marcus. Upon seeing the name, Matthews quickly left the coffee shop and interrupted his colleague's interview with the potential witness without apology or explanation. Matthews led his colleague to his car and took a deep breath.
"You cant work this case, Andy." Confusion became etched on Andrew's face.
"What? Why?" 
"The victim in the coffee shop is Lucy Halloway." Matthews watched as his colleague tried to work out how he knew the name, why it was so familiar,
"We believe there was a second person in the booth. There is evidence to indicate it. We don't know how they are involved, but they are missing and they left their bag," Matthews closed his eyes, took another deep breath and broke the news.
"Andy, it's Julie. We found her I.D." He handed D.S. Andrew Marcus the card. Marcus' face drained of colour as he looked at the smiling face of his niece.

'Blue Dress'

"This would look so good on you!" Mazzie squealed, holding the electric blue, body-hugging dress with lace sleeves and detailing.
"I am trying to crack a safe here! Do you want to shut up so I can think?" Esme snapped before groaning upon realising that her intel on said safe had been off - it had been modified to make it harder to crack. Still no match for her skills, but that wasn't the point.
"But it's your colour." Mazzie pouted.
"Fine, Fine. Just put it in the bloody bag."

'Fireworks'

It took everything I had to focus on the obnoxiously bright and loud explosions currently colouring the sky pink and gold. BANG! Again, 'look at me, look at me!', this time in green.

Why did I agree to come tonight? It wasn't like me being here made any difference to anyone. BANG! POP! I didn't have to come just because he asked me to. I could have said no. I should have said no. He shouldn't have asked me to come. BANG! Bang in red and blue. It was bloody selfish of him. Asking me to come here, so I could see what? Stand a few feet from him with his arms holding her to his chest? He's with the wrong girl.

BANG! Gold whizzes through the air. I know it. He knows it. Hell, even his friends repeatedly comment on it. I never believed in the whole 'fireworks when they kissed' idea.

POP! POP! POP!

Until I kissed him. But he didn't want a relationship. Wasn't in that place. We're better as friends, at least for now. But it was going to happen. Something in me knew it. 

Then with a BANG and some sparkle, she exploded between us.

'Bending to his will.'

He placed his fingers under her chin, forcing her look at him.
"I want to be with you for a long time, you know that right?" The words were sweet but Lisa felt it was more of an order than a statement of affection.
"You are mine." Ricky's hands now clasped Lisa's arms, which were still tender under the newly forming bruises. Lisa's wrist was still tinging with pain, and images of what he had done to her less than sixty minutes before kept flashing through her mind. 
"I love you." Ricky kissed Lisa, coldly and possessively. "I don't think you should see that guy from work anymore, don't you?" 

Lisa nodded solemnly and, in that moment, she felt weak and pathetic. Bending to his will; sacrificing everything thing she had and wanted, piece after piece of her soul broken, chipped and sanded off, everyday just a little bit more. A friend from work she'd only known a few weeks wasn't that big a deal. She'd given up worse. She could only really blame herself, she knew that her getting close to another man, even if it was completely platonic, would make Ricky angry. She'd done it anyway, made friends and brought it on herself. 

But people made friends all the time, even with the opposite gender and while in relationships, and those people weren't currently nursing a sprained wrist. Those people could go out with their (female) friends and not come home to suspicion and accusations. Those people could choose to change their hair cut without having it almost ripped it out when they got home. But if she did something she knew would lead to Ricky getting angry, wasn't his reaction kind of her fault?

'Staring '

Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, I got a glimpse of my sister's last moments.

Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, I felt my blood run cold.


Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, I knew the man I had once loved was gone.


Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, I wondered what kind of monster I was facing.


Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, I searched for a glimmer, for an inkling that there was good somewhere, that this soulless had a soul worth saving.


Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, I knew it was over, I'd done it, I'd made him let go of me, of any love he had for me. I'd hurt him enough that he refused to feel. He had shut down.


Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, she began to slip into a trance. She felt the joints in her fingers and toes began to harden and refuse to work. Despite the agony this caused, she couldn't scream, she was too transfixed on those eyes. Then from somewhere in the back of her mind a thought began to grow. She was being turned to stone.


Staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes, she knew that she should be afraid but all she felt was anger. Pure, unbridled rage.

'It was Autumn and raining...'

Drew jolted awake. 'Was that a window slamming shut?' His sleepy mind wondered,trying to figure out why he had ceased to be asleep, and with such a start, too. That's when he heard a gut-wrenching scream followed by a sob that set off every alarm in Drew's body.

"Honey?" he yelled. No answer, except a wounded sob. Drew followed the sound of wailing to the nursery. Upon opening the door, he was confronted by a scene he never wanted to see. 

It was Autumn, and raining from her eyes were the tears of a woman, broken to the most devastating degree. His beautiful ray of sunshine now nothing but the darkest shadow. Drew ran to hold his wife, but she backed away .

"It's my fault. I'm sorry. I couldn't stop them. I'm sorry. They took him. They took Caleb. I couldn't...They...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I..."

Whether she ran out of breath or will to go on, Autumn fell silent. And Drew knew she would never be the same again.

'Have you forgiven me yet?'

"No. I haven't forgiven you. Not yet. Not ever. My rage, my inability to forgive you, they are my last, my only, link to you. They are all that I have left of you. You took away every memory I had of us. Every morning we shared. Every kiss and every word gone, just...gone. Except for the moment I lost it all. The moment you walked away and left me forever. 
You think I hate you for leaving? I don't. I hate you for taking all the good with you. I have all the bad, the hurt and all the missing you. I don't remember what we had, but I miss it. I miss it so bad that it physically hurts, it aches all the time and it breaks me. You see, you took away the memories but not the feelings. You made my mind forget but my heart remembers. So, yes, I hate you. I hate you with the ferocity, power and devotion that can only come from the strongest, truest and most complete love. 
You got to keep the good, all of it. So, just leave me with the bad. You've proved yourself capable of that."

'He looked at the clutter on his desk..."

He looked at the clutter on his desk. Was this it? Was this all he had to show for twenty-seven years of hard work? He'd been told to pack his things and leave, but he couldn't see a single thing, amongst what looked like the most pathetic table at the world's worst car-boot sale, that he wanted to take with him. Not a single thing that meant something, anything to him.
          They'd called him a thief. They'd accused him of putting Fred in the hospital. They'd suspected him of much, much worse. Then they had fired him. All because of two things: his red hair and his green eyes. 
           A dirty cop. A disgrace to the badge. And that was only what his friends called him. He'd tried to hold his head high; quietly stating his innocence. But that hadn't worked. So now, it was time for action. Everyone believed they knew who had done it, but he knew the truth. He was the only one who was going to look for who had really did it. So look he would. And he'd start with the other side of his own coin: he would start with his brother.

Summer Air: The summer air had turned....

The summer air had turned on her. Thirteen minutes before, it had been the comforting presence of an old friend. Thirteen minutes before, the remnants of the day's laughter were still playing in her mind. Thirteen minutes ago, she had felt safe.

Now, the summer air was her enemy, working with her pursuer. It wrapped itself around her, slowing down her seemingly pointless attempt at evading capture. It had made a desert in her mouth and a swamp of her lungs. Her breaths, which thirteen minutes before had been cleansing and relaxed, were now as laboured and ineffective as her movements. She knew she could never out-run him. But she had to try,

That's when he grabbed her.

"You should have stayed hidden." His gravelly voiced purred in her ear. "Your turn. Start counting." 

'A Line of Blood.'

My red, leather-clad finger drew a line through the names. First born son to first born son, now connected, not just by the lines of the family tree, but by the blood that these hypocrites were oh so proud of.
          Turning, I leaned the small of my back against the magnificent, mahogany desk, that would have been passed down for generations. Holding the book at eye-level and to the right, I compared their version of the family tree to the one I had just created:

George. S. Seabourne

Born: January 10, 1941

First born son of Harold. M. Seabourne.

Mother: Evelyn Marie Samson

My eyes moved from the name on the page to it's physical embodiment. The once proud King of the Seabourne line now lay broken; his neck no longer able to support his head, let alone a crown. After all, even if he had become little more than a figure head in regards to the family business ventures, he was still King and it was still his crown.

          The shock of seeing me with my well-sharpened accomplice, paired with a cat underfoot and the corner of the imposing desk, had resulted in his paralysis and, thus, my opportunity to play executioner, without any royal pain.

          Dragging the fallen King to the other side of the room, I placed him directly across from the desk. The head of my family was now in place. My accomplice drew a line across the broken neck, and from it spilled that most treasured of liquids: Seabourne blood. I left it to spill. I needed to prepare for the arrival of the two names needed for the family tree: the Crown Prince and his recognised heir. I knew they would present more of a challenge, so preparation was necessary.
          I stretched fishing wire across the bottom of the doors, just high enough to cause an unsuspecting Seabourne to trip, I had to begin hiding additional knives around the room, when I heard a voice that stopped me cold. Her voice. Milly.

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 31 - 'Ghosts'

The ghosts surrounded her, my child. Most parents would be terrified, seeing hoards of spirits encroaching on their three month old.  But Marie had grown up knowing ghosts, knowing the remnants of people passed. She had enough experience to know spirits angry in aggression and spirits angry in defense. 

These remnants were defending, protecting. They needed my girl, they needed her alive. They would protect her, so that, in twenty three years (after my death), she could protect them. Sophia looked up at a centuries old soul with kind eyes but a mean scar, and smiled. She could already see them, she truly was gifted, most came into their gifts during puberty or after a life changing event. But this sweet little girl, her sweet little girl, was destined for great, but dangerous, things. Marie was beyond proud but, simultaneously gripped with dread.

Right now though, something scared Marie more than the prospect of her baby girl's future, was one thought:

What are they protecting her from?

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 30 - 'Alone'

Tristan's snoring echoed through my writer's block, making concentration that much more difficult, One AM. I'll stay up a half hour longer then head to bed. I don't feel alone when I'm by myself. Actually, I enjoy it, especially since I married Tristan. I feel more and more alone when I'm with him. I have to find times and ways to be by myself so I can get a break from feeling so alone. Over the past two years since I chose Tristan, I have grown more and more aware of the fact I made a massive mistake. That I married the wrong man. I haven't seen Elliot since my wedding day and I hoped that, over time, my heart would follow my head's lead and choose Tristan. The opposite has happened, my 
head is now siding with my heart, 

Elliot and I may not have been perfect, or had always been easy, but I never once felt alone or lonely when I was with him. I always felt loved, supported and like I had a partner in life. I should be with him. I should have married him, it's what I really wanted. I was just hurt and scared. I was so stubborn, going against my own best interests. But it was too late, I'm married to Tristan. I made my choice and now I'm going to live with it. Leaving wouldn't be fair, Tristan had done nothing wrong. He treated me so well; he was affectionate; tried to make her happy. Nothing had changed, but that was the problem. On paper, we'd look like the perfect, compatible couple but in reality, the feelings between us were...lackluster. At least for me. Tristan didn't deserve this, he deserved someone who loved him completely, someone who didn't wish she was with someone else. He deserved to be with someone who wasn't settling for him. He deserved to be someone's Elliot.

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 29 - 'Wedded'

I married him, I married the wrong man. I'm sat here, in Hawaii, on my honeymoon and I have been wedded to the wrong man. I married a good man, I married the 'safe' man. I married the man who had never broken my heart. I settled.

He's in the shower. I'm sat on the hotel bed, thinking of the last time is saw the love of my life: my wedding day. 

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"Stop that! Stop it, right now! You don't get to do that. You don't get to look at me like that!" my anger did nothing to alter the expression on Elliot's face.

"I always knew you'd make a beautiful bride." Elliot presented me with a white rose that he had plucked from the vase on the vanity table.
I sat on the bed, my hands resting on my lap, delicately holding the rose. All I could do was stare down at the pure, white petals and vibrant green stem. I just stared down at the rose, my hands and the beautiful tulle skirt of my wedding dress that created the background. 

"You left." I didn't raise my gaze, wouldn't look at him. After all this time, he turns up on my wedding day, like he was an invited guest. With his tie undone, his shirt a little mussed up and his rich, brown hair in a just-slept-in mess, Elliot looked good. Really good. Too good.

I mentally shook myself.

He didn't get to do this. He didn't get to show up now and look at her like she was the one who had given up on them, She hadn't closed that door. 

"Are you in love with him?" When I looked up, wounded green eyes seemed to be trying to read my mind, or my heart.

"Elliot." It was soft, but clear and with a hint of exasperation. I couldn't do this, especially not now. 

"Are you in love with him?" This time it was said slower, and the tone demanded an answer.

"I love him, yes." I didn't break eye contact.

"That wasn't what I asked. And you know it, Shayne." Elliot knew what I was trying to do, we both did.

"What the hell is it to do with you how I feel about Tristan?" I was on the defensive and it was cleat to both of us why. Still, I could see the anger build within Elliot.

"Because I'm the one who's supposed to have your heart. You swore you'd given it to me and I sure as hell don't remember giving it back. If that's true, you cant possibly be in love with Tristan," Elliot's disdain at the name was clear on his face. "But if you are in love with the up-tight, humourless, jackwang; then what we had is clearly not what I thought it was. If you are, then I gave my heart to a woman who gave her's to some guy, while leaving me convinced I was in possession of something I'd spend lifetimes trying to deserve." 

When Elliot looked at me, I knew he could see the tears pooling in my eyes. He walked over and knelt in front of me. He began gently stroking my cheek with his thumb, His voice was soft when he asked one more time,

"Shayne, please. Are you in love with him?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Shayne, my darling." Tristan's voice from the bathroom woke her from her reminiscing, "Care to join me,"

Not really. You're not him.  

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 28 - 'Status Update'.

Status update: The former member of the elite team, Soldier 2605, alias 'Rafe' has been taken out. He is no longer a threat. I repeat, Soldier 2605, Rafe, has been taken out and is no longer a threat. He was taken out by Delta team, at eleven-hundred hours, on the west bank of Edgetby Lake, three miles South of his last known location.

Selene felt more than saw the strength leave Cleo's body as she crumbled to the ground. Great, gasping sobs erupted from her shaking form as Luca's fist hit the wall.

"Edgetby Lake. The west bank. With all that open space? Why would he...the plan was...even if they...or he...Edgetby Lake? There's no...wouldn't he? It's not strategically sound. Rafe would have...Wait, Delta Team...But they..."

"Selene? What's going on? You seem more confused than concerned by Rafe's death." Luca had a feeling that something was going on that he couldn't see but he was still a little angered by Selene's lack of emotional reaction.

"What if he isn't dead?" Cleo looked up at Selene with hope re-ignited in her eyes. "What if they we have a way of hearing all their communications? What if they are lying?"

"Selene! Shut up! Don't do this to my mother! Don't you dare give her false hope!" Luca was ready to explode.

"Luca, it's me. I don't do hope. False or otherwise. You know that. I do rational, I do logical. I do strategics, And I know how they think. And I know Rafe. I know Rafe as well as I know myself. Just listen to me for a minute. You know Rafe and I had a plan, right? Well, it didn't include him going anywhere near Edgetby Lake, but it was designed to make it look like Rafe was heading in that direction. Rafe is smart, strategic and he knows that open spaces are to be avoided when on the run. Even if he had to divert from the plan, he would not go anywhere near the west bank, it's nothing but grass fields. Team Delta is a defensive squad, not equipped to or capable of tracking and capturing someone as skilled as Rafe. Rafe is a skilled climber, survivalist, fighter, strategist. He would have outrun and outsmarted that squad on their best day while he was off his game. The North-East of the lake is mountainous with caves, trees and assorted creatures, perfect terrain for Rafe. I'm telling you,  something isn't right with this, My instincts are going off. They are trying to break us. They don't want us looking for Rafe, or into them. I really don't think they've got him. I don't even think they know where he is."

"OK. So how do we find out? How do we find him? Who is capable of tracking him?"

"Me, I'm the best chance of finding him. I know him best and my skills are equal to his. But they know that. If they know where I am, which they might, they could find a way to follow me, to use me to find Rafe."

"Then what do we do?"

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 27 - 'Battle'

He would never forget that smell. It would be etched in his nightmares until his dying day. The stomach-churning concoction of burning flesh and spilled blood. It wasn't supposed to end like this. They weren't supposed to die. It wasn't their battle.

He would never forgive himself for allowing them to sacrifice themselves for him. The guilt, shame and crippling feeling of inadequacy would haunt him for the rest of his life. But for now, it was breaking him. None of them had survived, not one, yet here he was, standing amongst their  bodies, breathing, living. Why was he the one to survive? The one among them who least deserved it. It was his battle, his fault they had went up against Staker. 

In the pursuit of avenging those who were dead, he had lost the living.

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 26 - 'Dehydration'

At this point, they might as well just re-name 'Rehab' to 'Rafe's Living Quarters'. Although, it wasn't as comfortable as it once was: the starvation he'd gotten used to but the dehydration was new. Rathmore was clearly angry that his tactics weren't working, that he hadn't broken Rafe. The periods of forced fasting hadn't done the job, so now the daily dose of water was gone too.
So far, he'd suffered the headaches; being so dizzy he was sure he would pass out (but he wouldn't give Rathmore the satisfaction); he's spent more time asleep than he was sure was safe and had sat, unflinching, while excruciating muscle cramps attempted to cripple his body. Over the past few hours, he had begun to feel his heart rate accelerate and had lost track of how long he had been in 'Rehab' - which did not happen. The confusion was setting in. Combining that with the increased heart rate and a rising temperature, Rafe knew he was moving from moderate to severe dehydration. Rathmore would leave him in isolated 'Rehab' until Rafe was delirious and near death. He'd stop just before any permanent damage was done - Rathmore still needed his super soldier. 

AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

Rafe screamed internally as another cramp ripped through his leg, but his face showed nothing, he sat there, unflinching, staring at the camera that he knew Rathmore was using to personally watch him. Rathmore would not break him, Rathmore would not kill him, Rathmore would not win.

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 25 - 'Cables'.

"Please tell me you know where every single one of these go. And, i swear to god, everything'd better have been checked and double bloody checked a couple of hundred times." Quinn looked around and the floor of cables that surrounded her. She could see the sterilised hospital cot waiting for her, but no discernible way to get there.
"You sure you want to do this, Quinn?" Kate was concerned, this was way to risky and she'd likely lose both of her honourary sisters. She was already grieving the loss of Brooke, she couldn't imagine losing Quinn too.
"We have to wake her up, she knows everything we need to know to finish this. Even if she wakes up, she wont be able to tell us any of it, not after what he did to her. We need to get into her consciousness. I'm biologically linked to her so I'm our best hope. Now, show me the route to the table."

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 24 - 'January'

The cold, January air swirled around Poppy's exposed legs, the skirt of her little black dress (the one he hated) brushing against her thighs in the breeze. The concrete, icy cold beneath her bare feet, was only slightly warmer than her heart. Stones clung to her soles as they coated the ground in his blood. 

As she staggered away, exhausted and hurt, she dropped the knife. He'd fought back, tried to defend himself, he'd gotten in a few good shots too. She'd been relying on that. Everyone believed that she had had a lucky escape when she and Scott parted ways, and if it had happened a short time earlier, that would have been true. But it was Scott that had managed to get away. She had snapped and turned into something more dangerous than the men who had abused her. First, her father, who had abused her in every way he could, except molestation. That particular sin was saved for his nightly, unwanted visits to her mother's side of the bed. Poppy still woke up in cold sweats some nights, haunted by memories of life under Gerry Baldwin's roof. 

Gerry was followed by personifications of varying degrees of manipulation talents in the shape of boyfriends; each one with his own strengths and particular brand of soul crushing tactics, but almost always a mix of physical and mental beatings. 

But they were nothing compared to Scott. Scott made her feel safe. Scott was a 'good guy'. Scott was subtle but effective, He was so good, that by the time he actually hit her, she was so broken down, that she blamed herself before he even had a chance. She had even apologised to him. He apologised too. He apologised every time at the start, but he stopped eventually. They always stopped apologising. She didn't react how they expected when they hit her; she didn't cry or scream or shout. She was silent, stoic. She just took it. And if it didn't upset her, why should they apologise? 

'Girl, you sure can take a hit', 'You take a punch better than some guys', 'Be careful or we'll find out just how much you can take, bitch' and 'No-one takes a hit like you, babe' replaced sincere sounding and tear-filled apologies.

Then Poppy Baldwin got hit one too many times. She snapped. She used techniques picked up from years of abuse at the hands (and feet) of a life-long stream of abusers. Due to her size, she realised she was far more effective at the mental methods. The most effective seemed to be pushing his buttons until he beat her, then reporting the assault to the police. That combine with the medical records nearly their entire relationship, meant that the blame and suspicion was solely on Scott. She made Scott fear her, then she made him terrified. 

One August morning, Poppy woke to find Scott gone. That should have been the end of it. But, a little over a year later, she heard he was living with someone new. That didn't sit well with Poppy, so she checked up on the situation ever so often. Scott's new lesser half consistently had new bruises; was slowly retreating into herself, and although most of the signs were subtle, Poppy knew what she was seeing, Scott had found someone else to prey on who wouldn't fight back, Well, that poor girl maybe couldn't break away but Poppy could deal with Scott on her behalf. To protect the latest victim and every possible victim, Poppy would have to go back on the offensive and end Scott's ability to abuse anyone. Permanently.

As she walked away from the now harmless abuser, the metallic smell surrounding her, Poppy didn't look back. Scott's left arm was lifelessly reaching out after her, like he had been trying to entreat her to come back to him. The truth, however, was that it had fallen there after a fail attempt to strangle her, ineffective at all but leaving some slight bruising. Said bruising would aid her while giving her statement to the police. 

It was self-defense. Her ex-boyfriend had found her again after almost two years and had attacked her for running away. She didn't plan to kill him, didn't want to end his life, she just wanted him to stop, to get off off her. She just wanted it to stop. Some crying would probably be a good idea too. It would be that easy and would only be marginally harder for the police (and anyone else) to believe. 

Scott believed he was so smart, so in control, arrogant bastard. Scott hadn't taken something very important into consideration:

Hell hath no fury like a woman.

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 23 - 'Mother-In-Law'

"You ready, sweetie?" Selene looked at the only mother she'd ever really known, Cleo was smiling at her with encouragement and affection. It had been seven years since Cleo and Luca had rescued her and kept her safe. Now they, and Rafe, were her family: legally as well as emotionally. 
She looked out of the car window at the unremarkable house, which contained another family; one which she didn't know but was permanently linked to by genetics. Living in the house was the family she had been stolen from. This was it, after over five years of searching, the moment was finally here, she was going to meet them and, hopefully, get the answers that she had waited a lifetime for.
Selene looked at her husband.

"Ready to meet the In-Laws?" After years of steadfastly refusing to rely on any other person, it still felt weird to lean on Cleo and her boys for support, but it felt good to know she could, it was getting easier to let them in. She looked over at her own mother-in-law and knew that, no matter what happened today with her biological mother and father, she would never again be parentless. 

"Hell yeah." A smile spread across her husband's handsome face. He had been her biggest support and strongest rock during her search. She was more grateful for him than she could ever convey. 

Without another word, Selene got out of the car and as she walked, a strong hand grasped her's, she was relieved that she didn't have to do this alone. The approached the door and Selene knocked. As they waited the seemingly never-ending moments for the door to open, Selene considered running for the first time. When the door opened, a girl, who couldn't be much older than ten, with features reminiscent of Selene's was revealed, upon seeing the pair, the girl screamed with joy and threw her arms around Selene, clinging as tightly as she could.

"Daddy." She yelled without looking back into the house. "I thought you said Mummy was never coming back."

"Nova, we've been over this, Mummy can't ever come back. Now, who is at the door?" A male voice that instantly seemed almost familiar to Selene yelled from some unseen location within the house.

"It's Mummy. She's here." The little girl, Nova, was still clinging to Selene. At this, movement could be heard from inside the house. 

"Nova, there is no way your mother is..." Leo Asola stopped dead in his tracks as her looked upon the spitting image of his beloved wife. His daughter had returned to him. Leo fell to his knees and began to cry. 

"Daddy, what's wrong, Daddy?" Nova let go of Selene and ran straight into her father's arms.

"Nothing's wrong, honey. Daddy is just really happy." He couldn't take his eyes off Selene, who was still hesitating at the door. Leo stood up and took Nova's hand, walking her to the door. When they reached Selene, who's grip was almost causing her nails to break the skin on her moral support's hand.

"Selene? Is that you? Is that really you?" Leo's hand was extended towards Selene's face, like he wanted to touch her to make sure she was really there. Tears began streaming down Selene's cheeks.

"Yes, I'm Selene. I'm really here." Leo reached out, pulled Selene into his arms and cradled the back of her head. Her right arm was extended behind her, she hadn't let go of her husband's hands. She still needed the physical link. 

"Daddy?" Nova's small voice broke through to Leo and brought back his awareness of his surroundings.

"Oh Nova, honey, Everything's OK. Why don't you go get some biscuits and take them into the family room. We have guests." Leo said gently to his young child.

Turning back to face Selene and her companion he invited them in, enthusiastically extending the invitation when his eldest child mentioned her mother- and brother-in-law were in the car at the end of the drive.

Once the entire group were seated comfortable and provided with their choice of biscuit, Leo pulled Nova onto his knee.

"Baby girl, remember how I told you that you had a big sister who was taken from us before Orion was born." The little girl nodded. "Well, this is her. This is Selene." Leo gestured to the daughter who was stolen from him, the girl he thought he would never see again. 

"She looks like Mummy." 

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 22 - 'Dinner'

Selene woke, in mental fog with no clear memory of where she was or how she got there, and felt the straps holding her body to the bed. Her muscles tensed and her first though was 'Rehab'. She lay still, taking stock of any injuries to try and figure out what had been done to her. There was a pain in and a weight on her left foot; her right foot was aching severely but there was no weight on it; breathing hurt from what she knew were several broken ribs; her muscles ached all over but was barely worse than her usual state; she could tell that there were fractures in assorted fingers; the pain in her shoulder indicated a dislocated shoulder that had been popped back into place and a broken clavicle. Selene could tell she had several flesh wounds all over her body. 
Selene's mental fog began to lift and recent events slowly came back to her: the escape; the fighting; losing Rafe; running for her life. She was only getting flashes but one thing she remembered clearly was Rafe's face before everything went black. They must have been found and she had been dispatched straight to 'Rehab'. God only knew what they were doing to Rafe. She couldn't bear the thought. Slowly, Selene opened her eyes, expecting the white walls and sterilised setting of 'Rehab'; instead she found beige walls and a lived-in setting of someone's home. It seemed a strange place to be tied down in. Selene's brain went to business trying to figure out an escape plan and the odds that she'd make it with her injuries. That's when she heard voices but she couldn't make out what was being said. The tone, however, sounded casual and colloquial, not the tone of people discussing what to do with the girl strapped to the bed. She still had to get out of there. She heard a door open and close, moments later, foot steps approached. A woman with a kind face and her hair covered in a pale blue and dusty rose head scarf with a few tendrils hanging out, framing her features.
"Oh, you're back with us. How are you feeling?" The lady knelt down looked at Selene with genuine concern, something Selene was not used to. It made her uncomfortable, but weirdly, more at ease at the same time. 
"How much pain are you in?" Selene stayed silent.
"Oh, I am so sorry. You're probably so confused and scared. And these things probably aren't helping." The woman began to undo the straps that bound Selene. "We put them on when you started having night terrors, you kept striking out and tossing, you nearly launched yourself of the bed several times.We were worried you'd do more damage to yourself. I really do hope you're not in too much pain," The woman gently brushed the hair off Selene's face as she inspected the injuries on the patient's face. "You're probably wondering where you are and how you get here. You're at my home in Wildeley. You collapsed in Byoak woods near here, luckily my son found you and brought you back here so I could help you. You were in a terrible state, so many injuries. How you managed to walk on a shattered ankle, fractured tibia and torn tendons is a mystery to me. I'm Cleo and I'm a nurse, so you've been in good hands," Cleo smiled at Selene encouragingly. "I was just making some soup for me and Luca, we'll be sitting down to dinner soon. You must be starving, would you like some soup?"
After a moment of hesitation, Selene's rumbling stomach caused her to nod her head slowly, still not fully trusting the kindness being shown to her. Cleo seemed to sense what was going on in Selene's mind.
"You're safe here, you can trust me, sweetie. And my son, Luca. We'll look after you until you're healed and longer, if that's what you need. I'm assuming you're one of 'The Appropriated' who escaped." Cleo saw Selene's frightened expression. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone. We want to help you stay free. I promise you, we want to help you." Selene seemed to relax a little, for some reason, she trusted this woman, there was something almost familiar about her.
"So, sweetie, do you want to tell me your name?" 
'No.' The word flashed across Selene's mind. Her face hardened and she shut down, making it clear she wouldn't talk.
"No? OK. Then I'll just keep calling you sweetie." This was accompanied by yet another kind smile. "Now, I'm going to check your injuries. Is that OK with you?" A slight, terse nod was the only response Cleo received. Cleo gently peeled back the dressings covering the flesh wounds, one-by-one, inspecting for any infection and finding none. She then had a feel of Selene's damaged fingers and ribs, "OK. This bits going to hurt a little. I'm going to have to move your feet. Now can you wiggle the toes on your left foot?" Selene wiggled her toes obediently. Looking down, she saw the the weight on her foot was a home-made cast. "We did the best we could. It should work well. Now, try to rotate your right foot at the ankle." Again, Selene obeyed. It was painful but she managed a small rotation. Too small a rotation. Her ankle wasn't working properly, that wasn't good, what with her being on the run. So she tried again, causing herself increased pain. 
"Woah. Woah there. It's OK. It isn't much, but considering your injury and you walking on it, it could have been a lot worse. And it will get better. OK. We will just do some exercises every day." Cleo went through some physiotherapy exercises, making Selene move her foot in different directions and push against the pressure Cleo applied. Selene began to feel better when she saw Cleo's positive reaction to how well it went. Cleo seemed sure that Selene would improve quickly, so the pain the physio had caused didn't bother her much.

The door of the house opened and close in the other room.
"Luca, sweetie, can you get the soup on your way through for us and our guest." Cleo smiled at Selene.
"OK, Mum."
A couple of minutes later, Selene looked up as Cleo's son walked into the room and was stunned.

"Rafe."

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 21 - 'A Blind Date.'

(Writer's note: special mention to RD for help on this idea.)



"You're an idiot." Skye laughed and rolled her eyes. Jake couldn't believe the change in her: ten minute ago she was irritable, cold and surly, despite him taking her on the date that she had demanded. But now that she'd had a couple of garlic and chilli prawns washed down with some sips of wine; she was playful, affectionate and happy. If he'd ever had a doubt that 'hangry' was a real thing, his time with Skye had eradicated it. But he couldn't stay mad at her, not when she was looking at him like that: her features soft, her genuine smile and that look in her eyes made him feel more loved than he thought possible. Plus, getting pissy with Skye was never worth it, she'd either get mad or sad. If she got mad, she'd tear him a new one, and if she got sad, he'd feel guilty then apologise  and feel crappy for upsetting her for longer than she'd stay sad. 
Jake reached across the table, took her hand and started stroking his thumb over her skin.
"I love you too." he smiled back at her, Skye's smile grew. She knew she'd been a pain tonight and hoped Jake knew how grateful she was for him, even if she could be difficult.
The couple sat, looking into each others' eyes, the squabbles of earlier gone. 

"Fucking fags."

The tender moment had been ruined. The man at the table to Skye's right, with hate and anger permanently etched onto his rotund face, appeared to direct his comment at his dinner guest, an ashamed and run-down looking woman, but it was clearly intended to be heard by the two young men at the table directly in front of him. 

Skye's green eyes darkened, her features hardened and Jake felt her grip on his hand tighten. Oh no. Jake began to pray that the one vile comment would be the only one. Just don't say anything else. Please. Just leave it.

"Skye, sweetie, ignore it. You know he's looking for a reaction. And the guys aren't letting it get to them. Can we just get back to our evening and not let a prick ruin it?" He could see Skye looking over to the two men, checking to see if they were OK. The shorter of the two was leaning over the table and affectionately tucking his date's shoulder-length, shaggy blond hair behind his ear. Neither seemed at all affected by the homophobic comment, it was like it had never been said. The couple shared a kiss and then settled back into eating there meal.

"They shouldn't have to deal with it. The fact that they've learned how to cope well, doesn't give anyone an excuse to just let it happen. And you know it." Jake had no argument and definitely none that would work.

"Do you have to do that here, where there's people? Some of us are trying to eat." 

Every muscle in Skye's body tensed. Jake knew what was coming. One more comment would probably do it. And he wasn't going to stop it, there was no way in hell he'd get in the way of what was to come.

"I mean, they can do whatever they want behind closed doors, I just don't want to see all that homo shit."

Skye practically launched herself out of her chair, walked a couple of steps and stood, towering over the man.

"Shut the fuck up. You think that what's bothering everyone while they eat is a happy couple on a date? No. It's you and your close-minded, judgmental and fucking prejudice bullshit. So how about you quiet the fuck down, focus on your own meal and business and leave the rest of us to enjoy our nights without having to put up with you proving what a pitiful excuse for a human being you are over and over again?"
The man stood up, his facial expression and stance screamed intimidation. He looked down at Skye, all 5"3 of her. Not a good move. Will not work. 
"Why don't you mind your own fucking business, bitch?"
"OK, first of all, that macho, bullshit pose isn't going to intimidate me so how about you sit the fuck down. And secondly, 'mind your own business' is what I just suggested you do. And third, what are you hoping all these insults will achieve? Putting us down isn't going to make you look better than us. In fact, it makes you look like an asshole."
Jake knew trying to stop her wouldn't work, it was actually more than likely make things worse, but that didn't mean the impulse to do so wasn't there. He wanted to stand between the woman he loves and the man threatening her. But Jake knew better than to treat Skye like she needed protecting. This was her battle, and he had to force himself to let her fight it. 

"LISTEN HERE YOU BITCH..." the horrendous human was now screaming in Skye's face. She didn't even flinch.

"Back. The. Fuck. Off." Skye stared the man down, showing dominance and the huge mass was taken aback momentarily, not used to his tactics not working, especially on women. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the men kissing. He stormed past Skye and was on his way to confront them, maybe they'd cower to his intimidation. 
He couldn't work out how, but suddenly the tiny bitch was in between him and his targets.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't you think you've been enough of a prick already?"

"Jim, please sit down." the meek voice had come from his wife. She seemed more wearied by the second and Jake got the feeling that this type of scene was something she frequently had to deal with, and knew what she'd deal with for speaking up.

"Shut up. You don't tell me what to do. And you..." Jim turned and pointed his dirty finger at Jake, "control your woman."

Before Jake could utter a syllable, Skye erupted.

"Control me?! You do get that I am his girlfriend not his pet. He doesn't own or control me." Oh god, if he pisses her off anymore, she might hit him.

"Get out of the fucking way."  With that, Jim the Goliath shoved Skye out of the way, just as the blond pushed out his chair to stand up and to come to Skye's aid. As she stumbled from the force exerted against her body, Skye's foot caught on the chair leg and she fell. Skye's head collided with the next table, she feel to the ground and her head received another blow.

She heard Jake's voice saying her name and asking if she was OK; could feel his touch one her face and arms. 

"Jake. What's happening? Jake, I can't see you. Jake. Jake, I can't see." 

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 20 - 'A Wish'

"What is your wish today, Mistress Emmy."
"Oh, em..." Emmy shrugged. "Nothing comes to mind."
"Really?" Rune looked skeptical. "There is nothing you want to wish for? Nothing your heart desires?"
Emmy paused, lost in thought for a moment, then it was gone and her look of indifference was back.
"OK. Emmy, just spit it out." Emmy looked confused. "Don't look at me like that, I saw that look on your face. There is something you want but won't wish for. What is it you want? And why wouldn't you wish for it? You have a genie who can grant your every wish."
"Not all of them." Emmy muttered under her breath.
 After weeks of knowing there was something going on with Emmy and her not talking about it, Rune was exasperated and done with it all.
"That's it, Emmy! I've had enough. Just wish for it. You need to make a wish for today so why not wish for what you clearly really want. Now, Emmy!"
"So much for 'Mistress Emmy' and polite attitude." Emmy said defensively. Rune just looked at her, unimpressed with an eyebrow raised. Emmy slumped, defeated.
"There is no point in me wishing for it, it's not something you can grant."
"What do you mean I cant grant it? I'm a powerful genie. Of course I can grant it."
"No. You cant." The words came out in short, angry bursts. Then her face fell and her voice softened. "You said so yourself, 'no making anyone fall in love with anyone else', so yeah, it would be pointless to even ask." Emmy said sadly.
"Oh, you want to make someone fall in love with you." Rune couldn't hide how crushed he was at hearing this. Luckily, Emmy wouldn't look at him so she didn't see the pain on his face.
Rune's mind was reeling from Emmy's admission, and Emmy was doing her best to face away from him, so he didn't see the look on her face. She knew he'd work it out, work out who it was she wanted. It was impossible, so why did her heart keep wishing for it? Why couldn't she just want to be with Isaac? Isaac liked her, Isaac was a nice guy, a mortal, non-magical, non-genie. Being with Rune wasn't possible. Rune was basically immortal; Rune was a genie, HER genie. Why couldn't she just stop wanting him? Emmy was gifted with a wish a day from her amazing genie, and, ironically, the one thing she really wanted to wish for, was the one thing that could never be granted to her.

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 19 - 'Change'

"Honestly, I say we do nothing. Seriously. Don't look at me like that. I like this just as much as you do, but look at the change in her. For the first time since Ollie died, she's here. Not just physically, but actually, like, present. Yes, he's a dick. Yes, we hate him. Yes, we despise the way he talks to her. And yeah, it's pretty damn clear he couldn't give a shit about her, past fucking her, (sorry) whenever he likes. But she gives as good as she gets. He is under her skin, and whatever he is doing, it has gotten her out of whatever dark place she has been lost in. She has been lost to us for so long. We are finally getting her back! I hadn't heard her laugh since Ollie's wake. Five months of no smiles, no jokes and no laughing, from Violet. And then, today, it was like she was back. Whether we like the asshole or not, he may be the best thing thing for her. At least for now. She's finally coming back, our sister is finally coming out of all the darkness, and I for one will put up with anything and anyone if it means that it continues."

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 18 - 'Tunnels'

I don't burn bridges, I fill up tunnels. Burning a bridge is permanent: once it's gone, it's gone.
But if you collapse or fill in a tunnel, the tunnel still exists. It can be salvaged, in a way a burned bridge can never be. 
With me, I let the tunnel collapse, the ability to reach me, to get close to me, no longer there. Unless the person puts in the effort. If they were to dig through the rubble and and claw their way through the mess to me, they would be met with open arms and mind. I might even help, upon seeing the effort made.
I have a loyal and loving heart, it doesn't allow me to completely cut people off. I will not burn the bridge between us and abandon you. But I will give us both the space we need. If you decide I'm worth the work to dig your way back to me, you will be met with love and acceptance.

I will never stop caring about you, but sometimes, it comes to a point where I need to cut you off from me, for me to get some real distance, for my own good. 

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 17 - 'Dead Leaves'

Luca heard foot prints approaching, he had to get out of sight. He looked around at his options; ran to a sturdy trunk with branches only just low enough. It would be difficult for someone to climb up after him. He jumped, grabbed onto one of the lower branches and hoisted himself up, climbing a couple of feet above the ground. He didn't want to be seen, but wanted to be able to see and hear, in case he could glean any helpful information.
He could hear the dead leaves being crunched under foot as the stranger approached. The footsteps were irregular, who ever it was was injured. Or at the very least in great distress. The sound of twigs snapping and a person stumbling combined with the crunching of the fallen leaves grew louder, they were getting closer. Whoever it was, would be here in moments.
That's when she stumbled into his life: beaten, broken and almost out of fight. There was something about this woman, Luca couldn't look away. Luca watched her look around, like scared animal trying to sense danger, and he did the same, tried to listen out for anyone else approaching. He could detect nothing. Looking back at this mysterious woman, he watched as all the remaining energy in her body left as she collapsed against the tree he had shielded himself in. 
He knew she would die if he didn't do anything. So he climbed down, dropping himself from the bottom branch and landed about a foot to her left. The sound and impact of his landing momentarily roused the woman. She looked up, and a look of shock, relief and then joy spread across her face as he swept her into his arms and headed towards home, his mother could help her.

"Rafe." The word nothing more than a whisper, before she slumped down, unconscious.

Rafe. She looked at my face and said 'Rafe'. She knows him. She knows my brother. I could find him.