[macksracks]

They are your everything, your lifeline for who you are sometimes. A few may know you better than yourself even. They come into your life and make it so much better than it ever was before. Your everything. Times may be rough, but they are there with you, making the going easier. They take care of you when you cannot take care of yourself and vice versa, there for you when you are not there for yourself. 

Sometimes though, things happen and you drift apart, going your separate ways. It is hard, unbearably so. You think you might not survive without them as they became such a riveting part of your life. Your everything. So to go on without them, you cannot even begin to imagine it in the moment. 

However, that is the thing though, is that as this collection of hours and minutes expire while wandering through life, you realize that they were meant to be in your life, if only for a short time. They taught you invaluable lessons about the world, about yourself, about people. They were your everything for a reason.

Time makes things grow fond in memory.

[macksracks]

She stepped up to the stranger, all big doe eyes and innocence. “Excuse me, ma’am? I think I’m lost and I don’t know where my mom went…” 

The woman gasped softly before nodding at her. “Of course, dear. Where did you last see them?” She looked average height with long dark hair and blue eyes.

The younger one pointed to the doors of the mall, “I saw them walking out of there, but I was too far away for them to hear me and they kept walking.” She frowned, looking up at the stranger.

The other mimicked her frown, glancing over towards the doors of the mall, “Let’s start there then. We can look around in the parking lot and see if we see them, ok? Can I ask your name, dear?” she asked, holding her hand out to the younger girl.

“My name is Eveline,” she took the woman’s hand as the older then started to lead them towards the exit.

“Well, my name is Miranda, Eveline. I’ll help you.”

Eve nodded her head as they reached the doors and left the mall. Once they made it down the path to the lot, Miranda started to look around it. “Do you see them at all?”

Looking around, she made a noise and pointed with her free hand. “There! I think I see them!” Over in the direction of her pointing was a family of three by a van. A mom, father, and daughter.

The woman looked, following the point until she saw them. “Let’s go to them then, before they leave!”

They made their way over at a brisk pace, trying to make sure that they didn’t leave without their daughter.

“Hello, I think you lost your daughter Eveline,” Miranda said as she gestured with her free hand to the girl holding her other. 

“Oh heavens, we forgot Eveline!” Her mother ran forward and pulled her into a tight hug. “I can’t believe we forgot you!”

Her father moved forward behind her mom and approached the three. However, instead of pulling her into a hug like his spouse, he moved to the woman helping their daughter. Pulling out a handkerchief, he pulled Miranda to him and shoved the cloth over her mouth and nose. Immediately, she started trying to struggle, her bag falling to the ground in her wake.

Eventually though, she started to fight less and less before Miranda stopped completely. Unconscious. Her dad hummed as he began moving back towards the van’s open trunk and carefully put her in. Once in, they bound her arms and legs with some rope that had been in the back. Her dad closed the trunk and wiped his hands on his pants as Eveline and her mother made their way over to the van. He glanced at the two and smiled. “You did wonderfully, Eveline. Like normal. I’m so proud of you.” He placed his hand on her head and ruffled her hair, “My little lynx. Now let’s get going.”

[macksracks]

Eve grabbed the other’s hand and pulled her out of her room. Nothing about her plans would go wrong. Everything would be fine.

“Are you sure this is going to be alright? Someone might notice we’re gone, Evie,” Sylvia said, watching the other from behind as she is dragged outside.

“Yes, the royals won’t miss us for a bit. They’re too busy glaring heated daggers at each other from across the room anyways.” Eve grimaced, shaking her head as they walked. Honestly. The tension between the two of them was absurd.

Once outside of the castle and into the outer halls along the sides, she let go of her hand and stepped behind her. Raising her hands, she pressed them onto Sylvia’s back and pushed her forward at a faster pace while laughing, “You’re so slow, Come on!” She then paused her words, considering. “You should chase me. It’ll be fun!”

Sylvia leaned back against her hands as she walked, looking over her shoulder to look at Eve. “You want me to chase you? Someone could see u-” She didn’t have time to finish her sentence before her friend shoved her forwards and took off running in front of her. 

Eve laughed as she ran, almost stumbling a little as she checked behind herself to see if Sylvia was following, which she was. In fact, she was full sprinting in at her. Whipping her head back around to watch where she was going, she began sprinting down the hall. 

She ran, hearing very clearly the sounds of someone chasing her. As they played their small game, they were coming up on her secret path to her spot. It would be a hard left, which left room to slip and fall since their shoes offered no traction right then.

There was no choice. Eve had to do it. Hitting the corner sharp, she scrambled a little, but got up quickly and returned to her sprint away from Sylvia. The other girl hit the corner even sharper, but she grabbed onto a limb so she swung around more easily without falling down. Eveline heard her laugh behind her, "You know I'm going to get you, Evie. It's inevitable, my dear." 

"As if!" she called back, being sure to dodge outstanding limbs and roots in her path. Having to focus on the terrain, Eve laughed breathily as the lake came into view down the path. It was the final stretch. She pushed herself harder, to the point where she almost falls a few times as she runs. She can hear her friend behind her running harder as well, and what sounded like getting closer footsteps.

Thud.

Eve hit the ground hard just as she reached the bank of the lake, being tackled by her companion. She wheezed as she tried to catch her breath again. Sylvia was on top of her back, laughing as she laid there.

After a few minutes of this, Eve finally caught her breath enough to speak again. "Get off of me, you foul ginger demon," she said, moving to push Syl off.

The redhead just laughed more, but relented and rolled off of her into the textured ground of the lakeside pebbles. "You know that I'd get you. Why would you do that?" She questioned, looking over at her partner. 

Eve grinned in response, pushing herself onto the backs of her hands. Looking down at her clothes, they were now very obviously dirtied and with a quick glance at Sylvia's, hers were exactly the same. Dirtied up. "Now we're going to have to change before we go back, Sylvie. Look at what you've done now."

She raised her hands in defense of herself and enunciated her accent more, "I did no such thing. I was provoked, miss. I'm innocent in this matter." As she spoke, she watched Eveline with careful eyes, as if painting her on a little portrait in their mind.

Eve hummed, looking at the other softly. Ginger hair she adored to run her hands through. Freckles every which way on her face that she wants to kiss each individually for days. Softly curved jaw that she loves.

The feelings she felt for her were strong, beating within her own heart. It felt like it might overwhelm her and her senses. It was a torrential downpour of a feeling so strong it could drown her from the inside out.

That wasn't the point though. She couldn't. Not again, anyways. They had already kissed once, when she was very in her right mind while under the influence. Then there was the time when they were both under the influence, but it was obvious both were fine with it.

They were beginning to toe the line in the sand between whatever they were. They were certainly more than friends, however it was even clearer that they weren't officially anything. A thought that bothered Eve quite honestly. *What were they?* She didn't know.

Slowly pushing herself off the ground and back upright on her feet, Eve brushed her hands off on her dirty skirt. She reached down and held her hand out for Sylvia, who took her offer and together they pulled her up. 

Once up, they stared at each other for a few seconds, maybe a minute. Just looking at each other. Eventually, Eve smiled and looked away, over to where her little setup was.

Leading her by the hand once more, she took them over to her spot. Small canvases and paint all lay around in the area. She let go of Syl's hand and sat down on the cloth. After she gestured to a spot next to her, the other sat down gracefully.

"I couldn't find you your normal instrument, but I did find this lyre, which if I remember right you play. I hope you play-" she cuts herself off, as she just holds out the lyre in question to Sylvia.

Syl reached out and took it, looking it over. "This will work perfectly fine, Evie. Do not worry," she smiled at her friend and lightly played a small chord. She nodded, clearly satisfied with the quality of it.

Once Eve was sure that Syl would not mind the lyre, she picked up her own small canvas. Angling herself to face her, she took her brush and slowly began to paint the lake in front of her. Of her dearest plucking notes and chords, creating a wondrous melody at the tips of her fingers.

They remained like this for a while as the sun slowly began its descent below the horizon. Her fiery hair set ablaze in the setting sun’s light. The golden hour made her look like a goddess of the sun, right where she belonged.

Eveline could just reach out and set her painting down, then lean forward as her hand smashes into the painting accidentally as she would have readjusted herself forward with little hesitation. 

Sylvia would look up and smile, setting the lyre to the side of her. Her hands would come up and cup Eve's face, and everything would be alright. Everything would be as it should be.

So she did. She set down the painting and slipped in it a little as she set her hands down. She leaned forward and Sylvia did her part. Set down the lyre and cupped her cheeks in her hand.

They met together a third time.

[macksracks]

Tall pillars reaching the skies, all sorts of different designs. To see them is a grand sight, and to see the towers shift and sway is even grander. They stumble and fall, being taken away into the others. The ground, all but trembling as it bears sight to magnificent victories and yet terrifying losses. It expands when looked upon but tears away when it is dragged upon, the towers leaving marks and piecing away at what little sight remains in those who watch. It shudders in fear as they waver and stagger, the towers fighting to keep themselves upright, struggling as they do so. It is a brutal process, witnessing the event as towers fall and others rise. Some don’t understand it, yet others revolve entirely around it. It is revolutionary, and sometimes brings light into people’s life when they are in their darkest times of need. But it can easily just be taken away, torn out of their grasp, the screaming not mattering in the slightest as they lose what ground they had so valiantly fought for. Brought to their knees begging and pleading, fighting for that ground back once more, but with no way to succeed as they have their towers taken away. There is no way to win that battle, so you watch as the towers cause their omnipotent gods to crumble before them, reduced to little more than formal shells of what they once were. 

[macksracks]

The static shifted around the room, sizzling and popping as it moved. Panic. Energy filled the air. Not the good kind, but the acidic kind. The one that made everything feel off. Strings, dolls, marionettes. Knives, mallets, wire and more. Narrowed gaze, entrancing eyes. It giggled with no relent, minutes to hours, hours to days. Days of torture, but.. Was it days? It felt like days, but how long had it really been? All the string, all the blood, all the knives. It never seemed to end. But did you know that? You weren't all there anymore. Well, not just mentally, but quite literally too. A couple of fingers here and there. Maybe a few scars, along with some of you missing, chunks of flesh being bitten or carved off. They wanted you to break. They were going to do anything for you to break.

. . .

It didn't sound too bad of an idea at this point. To just submit and do as they want, break. Would they make it stop? All the pain. All the things you had suffered. To not have to go through anymore...

More giggles rippled around the room as you looked down at the floor. You felt something akin to a terrible mix between nails and claws. It combed through your hair for a little, creating a small whimper from you. The popping grew louder for a short moment, almost as if it had chuckled. Your hair was then yanked on hard, causing your head to be pulled up harshly. You stared up into septic green eyes and a fang-filled grin. After a few short moments, the grip on your hair was replaced by a tight one on your jaw, the claw digging almost painfully. "Y͘óu w̸ill b̨e̵ ̴a ̀w͟o̶n̴d̕er̢fu̷l ̢p̷̶̷̛͡u̸̶̢̡p̴̴͠p͏̶̀͡ȩ̵̛͟t̴͝ ̕f̧o̸r me̕, wo͢n̵'t̨ y̸o͜u?" More giggles crackled through the air as it stared down at you. Another loud electrified sound filled the room as you were kissed roughly. No matter how much you tried to get away, you couldn't. No matter how much you fought against the kiss, static still began to filter into you. It filled your arms, your legs, your veins. It didn't stop until the only thing you could head was its voice whispering words into your static-poisoned brain.

[macksracks]

You can hear them out there.

They're yelling at you.

Go home!

Attention whore!

Desperate drama queen!

They're yelling at you.

Your hands are digging.

You're panicking.

What do you do?

What do you do?

What are you going to do?

...

Break.

You break.

Pieces scattered to the wind.

Pieces step upon by others.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Someone picks up one shard.

They look down into it and frown.

"Who is this person?

"I can't tell who this person is?"

There's millions of tiny pieces scattered about.

Little pieces of shrapnel that pierce your torn heart.

They're staring down at the piece of glass, confused.

They can't tell who the person is.

You can't tell who you are anymore.

[macksracks]

There was no color. No green grass. All you could tell was that it was fresh. No blue sky. Only a proper grey one. No blue ocean. Only the smell of the water permeated with salt. It was all shades of grey. Sometimes, the shades were darker than others. That's when the roar came about. It wasn't your normal roar, no, not that. It was the roar of a tidal wave crashing through a metropolis like an apocalypse. It deafened everything. All the happy meds. All the happy people. All the friends. All the kind words. None of that was able to be heard. It was just that roar. But then, all of a sudden, it'd go away. It would recede as if it had never even been there to begin with. Slowly, the world was still gray, but it wasn't as gray. Colors were bleeding through into it. You could hear your friends, their kind words, the people around you who make you happy, and it'd be as if the meds were working again! It could stay that way for a day, a week, a month, but then it also could stay that way for an hour, a minute, or even only a second. Sometimes you would break free, sure. But it'd always yank but on the leash it held in its blackened fist, pulling you back in and under. Back to that dark, inky abyss.

[macksracks]

They swayed in the breeze. A field rustling against a backdrop of sky. Clouds drifting, blocking out the sun at their own whim. Giggling of children could be heard as they dash through the field, plants being shoved aside, ground being trampled beneath their small feet. Two people holding hands, following behind the smaller pair, a smile on their faces as they talked and watched ahead.

[macksracks]

The ceiling and walls oozed as blood ran down into the floor. A chair sat in the middle, occupied by a girl, head set on straight. She chuckled. Giggled. Laughed. She laughed and laughed. Her body was covered with open wounds. It was marred beyond belief. The wounds seemed to move and shift as maggots crawled around inside them. Flies buzzed around, filling the air with a drone. Her head moved, tilted to the side, ripping off with a sharp SNAP. It fell to the floor with a thump, rolling away nearby. Laughter still emitted from the body, making the body shake, as if the head was secured in place, never having fallen. It filled the room then, that laughter, growing louder and louder. The droning buzz of the flies, growing louder and louder, until...

all you could hear was that hysterical laughter amidst sea of buzzing static.

[macksracks]

She stares at the wall blankly, marks on her body. They are there hiding under. Some seen. Some not. Bumps, bruises, drawings and more. They blister and bleed, leaving her left aside to scream. There is a quiet buzzing sound. Can you hear it? She can. She hears the crackles and pops of the static. It deafens the world around her. Poisoning it. Taking the sound of what she hears and making it into this twisted, unrecognizable thing.

[macksracks]

Its a waste of breath.

Waste of time.

Eventually you will too.

See the way they did.

But c'est la vie.

It is life.

We give up our hearts.

Only to have our eye snatched.

Our hearts snapped and thrown back.

The cycle of life.

It's normal they say.

They'll come back eventually they say.

You can be you they say.

But are we ever really us anywhere?

Anywhere where we are truly ourselves?

The answer is mostly no.

For most can never be there true selves much of anywhere.

Those that can?

I turn green with envy, for how I wish to join their ranks.

[macksracks]

Standing there.

She was standing there.

Mind tumultuous.

Hands trembling but not really.

She trembled internally.

Shales never showing.

Heart beating fast.

Anxiety growing rapidly.

Curling into a ball.

She hid from the world.

Or tried to.

If only for a little while.

Head spinning.

Thoughts racing.

Make them stop.

She cried out.

She just wanted them to stop.

To leave her alone.

She wanted it be quiet.

She wanted to not cringe when she saw herself.

She wanted to smile when she saw herself.

She wanted to not hate seeing herself.

To not hate the way she acted.

To like the way she acted.

Want want want.

Yet she never said need.

[macksracks]

Dark wet spots lie on the bed where her head rest, curled up in a ball. Tears slipped down in a trail sideways onto the sheets, the owner silent other than for the occasional sniff.

She sat up, hands around her knees as she looked numbly at the wall ahead.

A couple moments went by until her gaze slipped down onto her leg, the word "UNPURE" staring back at her. It seemed harah and uglier in the dim, yellow light. The scarring appeared to be much more jagged than normal. All of the scars likely did.

Another pause.

She needed to see them.

She slipped off the bed and moved to a wide mirror nearby, footfalls near silent. Standing in front of it, she stripped until she was bare, scars presented before her. Turning around  she looked over her shoulder. Her hand went around behind and gently traced along where her wings met the rest of her body, terrible scars underneath, inhaling softly as the wings fluttered. The hand slowly moved downwards, now lightly feeling the long diagonal gash below her wings. It wasn't as savage as it had used to be, seeing as it had faded some, but it hasn't faded enough for her. The gaze continued downwards until it froze upon the deep, ugly word on the back of her leg. "FALLEN". He had carved that and the other word deeply into her skin with a knife. Since she healed so quickly, he had taken it into his own hands that everytime that were the words were healed over,  he'd recarve them, opening up the freshly field women for several, possibly even tens of hundreds of times. What had been left behind in the spots were horrific ugly reminders. Words carved into her skin, marring it. Near the end of those times, he'd made her do the rest of the carving of the word "IMPURE" repeatedly. The words dug their way into her heart, leaving permanent marks on her soul.

She quietly turned back around to trace the marks on her front. A front to back gunshot wound under the right side of her collarbone. A deep "X" carved right above her heart, over her left breast. A light scar under her right one, done with a claw. Another one down and to the left of that, a deep stab wound. And then one of the worst. A horrendous, jagged scar along her abdomen. Deep, ugly, and a terrible reminder. Her hands shook as she traced that one, arms quietly wrapping around herself. With that scar, came two things. He gutted her, repeatedly, but.. He had also taken one of the things most important to her. She couldn't have children. He had taken it from her. One of the few things that wouldn't heal back to the way just was. She could still feel his clawed, grimy hands on her, all over her. Tears began to fall again, faster this time as her knees gave out, falling to the floor, soft sobs shaking her body.