Meeting Five Versions of Me

An angel appeared before me as I sat up from my position on the floor. Somehow, I had managed to get myself into heaven, despite all of the stupid shit- sorry- stuff I've done. I probably shouldn't cuss considering how I'm suppose to be modest and all. The angel looked at me, and his thoughts flowed into my mind. He didn't speak, but he said a lot. "When a leaf falls and lands in a stream, it's done for. The waters carry it from that point on. There are different currents, though, that can pick it up and change its course. Easily, almost instantaneously, the leaf can be sent into another direction. And you, my child, are a leaf. You became you by choosing certain currents. Part of what we do here is we like to introduce you to the different versions of yourself, the leaves that chose other paths. First, let me introduce you to Peter, the assistant manager of McDonald's."

A scruffy young man of about twenty came out of an unnoticed door that was behind me. He looked generally shocked to see me. He was me, but he looked different. The sides of his head were shaved and on his arms were several tattoos and needle scars.

"Peter, meet Peter. He is the third alternate you." The angel addressed the young man. Peter started to weep uncontrollably.

Utterly shocked at the loss of control of the young version of myself, I spoke. "I'm Peter, but you probably already knew that. How old are you, son?"

"Nine-teen." He managed to squeeze out. The angel was gone now.

"Alright, Peter. I guess I'll begin. I never got that job at McDonald's all those years ago because I never turned in my application. I actually lost it at the library when I was studying with my best friend, Henry, for finals. I thought about filling out another, but I ended up getting an internship for an engineering company instead."

"I remember Henry. One of the other guys said he lived a good life. You're the third me I've met, though, and each version I keep trying to tell myself sucks. I want to be able to say that I lived life to the fullest. I had several girlfriends and was sort of successful in my career. Assistant manager, that's something right?" Was Peter trying to convince me or himself?

"But I used all of my paycheck to buy the next best drug available." Peter looked down at the holes in his arms. "The last guy I met had four kids and was in his nineties. He died because of old age. You'll probably meet him. The first me was six. Got hit by a car because he didn't look both ways at the bus stop. At first, I thought that my life was good compared to both of theirs. Little Pete got to die innocent. He didn't experiment with the wrong drugs or end up working in a grease bin. And the old me. He died loved and surrounded by tokens of his success. He had a caretaker and a big mansion. I- I had nothing except what was in my pockets."

"I'm sorry," I said. "For me, it was almost my 45th birthday when I died of cancer. I took up the horrible habit of smoking, which led to my eventual decline. I have three kids. We hadn't planned a fourth. I didn't work much. I invested in real estate when I was younger and started renting out my property shortly after. I guess we're the same in the way that we gave into our addictions and they took our lives."

Peter cut in. "But my addiction didn't take my life. I did. I was tired of the same old same old. My family was disappointed in me and had disowned me. I lost everything so I became nothing. I don't need you telling me how wrong of a job I did. I know I screwed up."

"Time's up." Interrupted the angel. Young Peter shook my hand, forcing manners out of himself. Then he went back through his door and closed it behind him.

"Are you ready for the next Peter?"

I nodded and another door appeared. Out stepped a man in high heels and drag. This was going to be hell.

Real Power

I discovered my ability on my 21st birthday. I laid in bed that morning in my small studio apartment and expected the day to go about as miserably as all the rest. Except, when I sat up on this cold morning, and I reached for my slippers, they came to me. I held my arm out as if to pick them up, but they levitated right over to me instead. Initially, I was shocked, and figured I must still be dreaming. Most dreams only last a few moments, so I took advantage of what little time I thought I had. I wanted to learn how to control my fantasy.

But it didn't end. I didn't wake up from some awesome dream. I was living it. I began documenting my progress in a journal, so that if one day someone were to try and convict me of losing my mind, I'd have evidence in my defense. However, my writing soon ceased when my mother called me late at night about a month after acquiring this skill of telekinesis.

"Honey, your father has taken ill. His heart gave out earlier this morning, and it looks like he won't make it for very much longer." My mother's voice was tired, and I could sense that there was more.

There was. Soon, more of my relatives began to suffer heart conditions. Everyone assumed that it was brought on by some virus. Doctor visits proved to be of no avail. I moved out of my small studio, and went back home to help take care of everyone. I thought my ability might be of use to them.

Moving heavy objects seemed to be piece of cake, and the larger the object the more I enjoyed influencing it. Because everyone else was too weak to do much, I became their hands. Reorganizing the guest bedroom? No problem, I'd just have to look at the bed and it would shift to where I wanted it.

But the more I used my powers, the sicker everyone got. At first it was just the heart conditions, but now it was osteoporosis and organ failure. My dad passed a little less than a month after I moved in, and my mom was hanging by a thread. I dreaded the days when another relative would call and complain of chest pains.

I had to put two and two together. Before I moved in with my parents, I had lived a few blocks away. From there, they went into heart failure. When I got closer, that's when things got worse. Even our dog felt the effects of my power. I was doing more damage than good. . . .

So that's how I got here. I calculated the greatest distance I could be from them in order to avoid hurting them. My power isn't as useful to me anymore because of the consequences that it is acquainted with. I'm afraid to use it around anyone and everyone. Using it drains the people that are most important. It takes all of the good within them and turns it into evil.

Power is only selfish, never generous.

Coma

There's a time and a place for everything. There's a time to smile and a time to hesitate. There's a time to question and consider your options.

"She would have wanted to go like this." Dad took mom's hand in his and comforted her as she wept.

No I wouldn't! If only there was a way to get them to hear me. I was in a nightmare and I couldn't wake up. I was screaming and screaming, but nobody could hear me. I screamed at my parents for being so selfish. Just give me a few more days and I'll figure out how to get out of this prison of a mind. But no, they couldn't bare to see me like this, so fragile and unresponsive.

Fuck! Mom, look at me! If I could express emotion, surely they'd see me crying. Why can't I cry, though?

"Are you ready?" The nurse asked my parents. My mother shook her head, and my dad requested a few more minutes.

Now's my chance.

Mom, Dad! I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for never being the daughter you wanted. I'm sorry for stealing that money from your purse when I was thirteen. I'm sorry I brought boys home to spite you. I'm sorry I didn't get to graduate college. I'm so sorry! But please don't give up on me now! Nothing I said was heard. I was talking to an empty room that my parents occupied.

I wanted to touch their faces and feel their gentle hands again, but both of my parents were too afraid of the supposedly empty body in front of them. But I'm not empty. I'm still here.

My dad got up from his chair and called for the nurse. She paged the doctor, and I knew I only had a matter of minutes.

I tried to lift my finger, but it was like the weight of the world was sitting on my hand. I tried to scream, but it was like someone had stuffed a sock in my mouth. I tried to cry, but it was like I had just been sucked dry of all liquids. Everything seemed impossible.

I could hear the footsteps in the hallway, each one getting louder and louder. An old man in a white coat entered, and shook hands with my parents. He walked them through the procedure, continually asking them if this was what they wanted. Each time I'd try and say, "No," it got translated as, "Yes."

The doctor reached for the machine and flipped a few switches, one cutting off my oxygen and one stopping the medications. I fought hard to breathe, but each inhale became more exhausting than the last.

Please! Please! There had to be some way for me to communicate that I was still here. I wish there had been some supernatural telephone that I could have called from. Maybe my phone could have died with me in the crash.

I'm still here, please! My mom shook her head and stepped out of the room. My dad stayed behind and sat at my bedside, where he remained for the next three and a half hours. He didn't even look at me, that hurt like hell. Mom would occasionally come and go, getting more hysterical with each glance at me. She must have known she was killing her baby, and that this was wrong.

I give up! I was done fighting my inevitable death. My parents, the two people in the world that were suppose to believe in me no matter the circumstances, had even given up on me. They knew what I was capable of, and fighting to live was not something I could do. Were they doing me a favor?

"You can go now, sweet heart." My dad brushed my cheek with his hand. Finally, I thought. Finally he had touched me and showed me that his humanity was still there. I didn't think I'd need his permission before, but I felt much more comfortable now for some reason.

So I gave up. No- I gave in. And each breathe became shorter, and the time between heart beats became longer. The sounds in the room got quieter and quieter, and eventually, my thoughts went mute as well.

Why My Coworker is an Extraterrestrial

I know a weirdo when I see one. My family is riddled with talented outcasts, but my coworker is definitely not like the others.

She's been working here for about two months now and has already been promoted twice. It took me two years to get promoted just once. I tried to consider that she must be sleeping with my boss, but my boss is married, and she has two kids.

This girl is just really good at everything- to the point where it's almost unfair. She picks up on things really well. You only have to explain to her once how to do something, and after that she's an expert. She'll watch you so intently the first time, like she's taking mental notes of every muscle movement and every step of the process. She just gets it. She can't be of this world.

I checked her Facebook and nothing exists of her before three months ago. Same goes for the rest of her social media profiles. She doesn't even have a cellphone. Who doesn't have a phone in this day and age? She doesn't own a watch either, but for some reason always knows the time.

One incident occurred just last week. I had just gotten to work, and she had apparently been there all day. Someone asked for the time, and she stared at the food she was preparing and said, "Seventeen-eleven." I looked at the clock on the wall, which couldn't have been visible from where she was standing and in fact, the time read 5:11. Nobody thought much of it, but I thought it was bizarre.

The store also has tile floors, each tile a couple inches on each side. She never steps on the cracks. She never even trips and happens to accidentally land on the lines. Her rhythm is just that good and she's so in sync with everything. I asked her about it once, and she just said, "I don't want to fall in." I laughed, but she was serious.

Her reflexes are great, too. I used to think mine were impressive, but she puts me to shame. When an object falls, she doesn't even have to turn her head to catch it. She just grabs it and puts it back, never looking up. Afterwards, she'll suspiciously look around, almost making sure nobody saw. Usually nobody ever does see, but once she caught me catching her. She looked at me with a look of horror and embarrassment rather than confidence and pride. It was like I had caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. Except... the emotion on her face made me uncomfortable. I was overcome with something like guilt. I almost felt sorry for seeing. When I went home that night, I didn't feel sorry anymore. Instead, I was confused as to why I was sorry in the first place. But she does that to you.

She never speaks unless she's spoken to either. It's not a matter of being antisocial, though. It's literally like she can't hear you unless you invite her into the conversation. But then once you do she knows exactly what you're talking about, and more. She knows exactly what you're going to say before you even say it. It's a one sided conversation, and she's narrating both her thoughts and yours.

She can hear everything, too. She hears things we can't. She knows when my other coworkers come back from their pizza deliveries. She knows what customers are going to order before they tell her. She starts doing tasks before we tell her to. Today, I was going to ask her to restock, only to discover that she had already started doing so. Some of us have jokingly asked her if she's psychic, and she responded with, "I knew you were going to ask that."

Now, I know these things all seem like simple coincidences, but there are other things too that aren't can't be so easily dismissed.

For example, her first week working here she warned one of the drivers not to take the freeway because of an anticipated accident. He ignored her and went on the freeway anyways. He called in a few minutes after he was dispatched, he was all choked up because the car in front of him had gone off the road and caused a massive wreck. Luckily, he wasn't injured, but it was going to be a while until he got back to the store. My boss confronted my coworker about her prophesy, but after they spoke together, neither of them brought it up again. It was like it was erased from my boss's memory or something.

She's extraordinarily different. She's superhuman. I've tried bringing up my suspicions with other coworkers, but they insisted we change the subject right away. She has implemented some kind of fear among everyone. I'm afraid to discuss this with anyone. If I confront her, surely she'll brainwash me too. But by staying quiet, has she not already brainwashed me? Did I ever tell you about the time I got bit by a squirrel?

Should Have

It's not fair. I know it's not. People should only get so many do-overs in their lifetime. I've taken advantage of your illness, and I am apologetic every second for that.

You hit your head a bit harder than a few doctors wanted to reveal. The accident stole your memory of me, which at the time was not very fond. I was unhappy with that.

When I answered the phone and was given the news of your injury, I was at first devastated. I knew not the severity yet. I knew not the benefits yet.

I gave you all of the love letters I had written to you. I convinced this new version of you that in your past life you had loved me so. The letters were evidence of my side, I had not evidence of your side other than the fact that you had a few journal entries of me. All of which were positive, because that's how you used to be.

I told you how much you used to "love me", and you guiltily followed, albeit hesitantly. I could tell love was not in your heart, but you had wanted so badly to return to the person you once were. You cared so much for the people around you, even though you knew them not.

You treated me kindly, because that's what you thought you were suppose to do. You tolerated my obnoxious friends and suspicious family. Ignorantly, I allowed this to go on for several months. You moved in and we spoke of marriage. I told myself I loved you, too, but my definition of the word was skewed.

You were disappointed with the fact that you could not fulfill this position that was once "so courageous." You aged, and time stole from you the motivation to learn of life anew. I told you how fantastic you were, and supported you, even though I was supporting a lie.

You never existed. Never a person like you did. The truth is, I was just the selfish friend who happened to be in love with you. You had never spoken to many people about me before, which made it so easy to get away with it for so long.

That is until you decided you were a failure. You became depressed, and started drinking. You gave up the image of the person you were once before, and I began to slip through your fingers.

I should have come forward sooner. Should have told you the truth, but I was afraid you'd leave me. I couldn't bare to be alone again, being the one who just watched the game from the sidelines. I couldn't let you go, but my tight hold suffocated you.

I found you lying on the bathroom floor. I had to shove the door open, which is what that big bruise is on your leg. When you wake up, if you wake up, I won't be here. If your mind returns to its previous state, before your first accident, then I hope you have no recollection of this whole ordeal. If you do remember, you know where to find me. If you become the failure you thought you were before, know that you never failed. I just set too high of expectations for you to fulfill. You won long ago, I just never told you so.

But if you are to awaken to a once again blank memory, take the power that that restores. But be mindful, I had that power.

And that's the whole reason why we're back here again.

Sharktooth

It was that time of the year again when the temperature of the water was just right, and the waves were their perfect height. The annual surfing competition was in a few hours and Sarah Turner had spent the entire summer training for it. The many mornings that she got up early to go surf were finally paying off. She had studied the strategies of previous champions and researched all of this year’s judges. The celebrity judge was going to be her idol, Casey Mavericks, who had won numerous surfing competitions up and down the coast. The opportunity to meet Casey Mavericks and even possibly win the competition in front of her idol was the chance of a lifetime.

Sarah’s friends had invited her to dinner at the local diner the night before the competition. Apparently, the Pacific Plates Diner was Casey Maverick’s favorite place to eat when visiting San Diego. Even just the sight of Casey would be enough to motivate Sarah to win it all. Sarah picked out her best sundress and tied her long blonde hair behind her head in a bun. She reached for her jewelry box and from it retrieved her shark tooth necklace, which her grandfather had given her for good luck before he passed away. She tied the necklace on, adjusted her hair once more, and then checked her horoscope for the night. In it she discovered that she would have to lose in order to win. Sarah assumed the horoscope was referring to the many hours of sleep she had lost from getting up so early in the mornings. She hoped the victory it described was going to be the competition in the morning.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Sarah was stopped at the back of a long line of customers waiting to go in. Word quickly passed around that Casey Mavericks was eating inside. Sarah was overcome with excitement. Someone from inside the restaurant began calling Sarah’s name. Luckily enough, her friends had managed to get a table. Sarah walked ahead of people in line and entered the restaurant. Their table was only a few feet away from Casey’s table. Unfortunately, though, they could not see the celebrity from where they were.

The waitress came over to the table and took their orders. While Sarah was ordering, she could feel her hair coming loose again. Once she finished ordering, she excused herself to the restroom to adjust her hair. On the way there, she managed to glance at the table where Casey was. Casey had short blonde hair and was wearing a sun hat. Sarah was starstruck and wanted to introduce herself. However, she knew her hair was a mess and was beginning to feel it get tangled with her sharktooth necklace.

Finally, Sarah made it to the bathroom, where she was able to fix her hair. She took off her necklace and placed it on the bathroom counter, while she tended to her messy curls. Once her bun was back in place, she washed her hands and exited the restroom.

On the way back to her table, she passed Casey Mavericks, who was headed into the bathroom. Casey smiled politely as she walked by. Sarah smiled back, but then rushed back to her table to tell her friends about her encounter with Casey Mavericks. It was the main topic throughout their whole dinner.

The next morning, Sarah awoke to the sound of her alarm. She sat up and felt at her neck. The sharktooth necklace her grandfather had given her was gone! The competition was in just a matter of hours, and she didn’t have her good luck charm. All of the nerves and worries that she had so easily avoided before were now overcoming her. She shuffled through her bedsheets, dug through her clothes, and lifted up anything that could be overturned; however, the necklace was nowhere to be found. She just had to leave without it.

The competition that she so looked forward to before was now something that she dreaded. When her parents and friends wished her good luck, she just nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand. She knelt on the sand and waxed her board, with each stroke her nerves intensified.

When her name was called, Sarah stood up and readied herself to charge the water. Over and over in her head, she went through the motions: run, tread, swim, surf, and run again. The horn was blown and she ran. Despite not having her lucky sharktooth, she ran the fastest she had ever run before. The motivation to find her necklace after she finished, drove Sarah to paddle quicker and more efficiently than ever before.

After surfing the first wave she could get, Sarah sprinted to the finish line, completing the course faster than any of her opponents. As her competitors finished, Sarah stood scanning everyone’s necks and asking around for her sharktooth, but nobody came forward.

The announcer directed everyone to the stage, where he announced third place and second. Finally, after allowing the suspense to build up, he shouted Sarah’s name. She had won! Now, Casey Mavericks was going to place the medal around her neck and shake her hand. Sarah stood there happily as Casey presented her the gold medal. Around Casey Maverick’s neck, sure enough, was Sarah’s sharktooth necklace. It finally occurred to Sarah that she had left the artifact on the bathroom counter at Pacific Plates Diner. She couldn’t be angry at Casey for picking it up and wearing it. Instead, Sarah was flattered and as they shook hands, Sarah kindly said to Casey, “Nice sharktooth.”

Earthbreaker

The illumination in the room flickered as the woman locked the iron chains that were fastened around his ankles and wrists. The man’s head hung low as sweat trickled down the side of his face. The woman’s hips swung from side to side as she walked towards a wooden table in the corner of the room. Quietly, the prisoner said, “You really should remove these chains. They’re knocking me out of kilter.” He chuckled painfully, but she examined the tools in front of her. A long row of tranquilizers and defoliants laid on the table waiting to be used on the man who could manipulate objects with his mind. Earthbreaker he was called. 

She selected the largest syringe, a bubbly, orange fluid. When the woman turned back around, a blinding light filled the room. She dropped the tranquilizer and groped for her walkie-talkie, but passed out before any contact could be made. 

He stood over her, staring at her with a keen smile. The prisoner was no longer in chains; instead, the woman was. He held the walkie-talkie in his worn hands and said into it, “The prisoner is down. Time is of the essence.” A deep voice of approval replied. "Good" said the voice.

He raised his hand at the wall, and the once solid iron walls became translucent and then melted. Light filled the room. He laid the walkie-talkie on her lap and whispered to her,"Good night, my love." Slowly, he turned and walked through the puddle of iron and into the sunlight. 

The Memory of A Beast

      The echoes filled the cave in fear as each foot was lifted up and placed back down again. Her boots were dark, and blended in with the same blackness that filled deep space. She moved forward, slowly with her eyes focused on the darkness before her. She had brown eyes, framed by thick lashes that caused wind storms every time she blinked. Her stare pierced her enemies with uncertainty. A mysterious weight was upon her brow. She made sure to blink only when necessary, sure to not miss anything in the corner of her eye. The thick locks that occupied her head were a soft brown, with sun-kissed accents only around her forehead. She carried a thick blade, heavy with responsibility and honor. The blade was not easily lifted by others, a sword of unbreakable stone, supported by a golden handle shaped by elves. It was not violence that she fought her battles with, but wits and intelligence.
     Her head was held high, but she saw the ground before her. Rough, rocky clumps of dirt covered the floor. She had entered on lush dark green grass and daisies, but found herself in the darkness of the cave. She heard a deep groan grow louder as she moved forward, with each step more certain than the last. It was the armor that made her strong. It was woven, not by any fabric of bright colors, but by the comfort of her memories. A memory of a man decided her every move. She fought for his approval, in hopes that she could carry out the head of this beast and hand it to him with a smile. This memory made her strong, but not naïve. His strength was hers, one in the same. He walked behind her always, and she could sense him always, telling her how to perfect her steps and turns. He told her to lift the blade, although she saw no beast before her. She lifted it, confident that every word he whispered was honest, a clear and obvious truth. The beast she could hear sped up and ran directly into the blade. She held tight to her weapon staring the beast in the eyes as it fell into the dirt.
     She withdrew the blade from the beast’s chest, and decapitated it. Her wise hands clutched the beasts hair, as she exited the cave and went back into the light.

Drive

After I graduated high school, I was in that weird adjustment phase between school-life and college-life. I was still living with my parents and was applying to as many jobs as I could in order to round up some cash. I had very little time for socializing, but when I did, I reserved my time for only one person: Sam.

Sam was one of the big football stars at my school.  Despite his many accomplishments in the game, he never dated much. To be honest, I had often hoped that I was the reason for that. After high school, he waited for the semester to start at a local University. 

I wasn't driving yet, although I was old enough. Sam said that he'd come pick me up from my house on a Saturday night. If I were going out with anyone else, I would have worn something a less casual. I wore sweatpants and a t-shirt with a cardigan. 

When he arrived, Sam was no more casual than I. He wore basketball shorts and a sweatshirt. He made a comment about our outfits, but I have long since forgotten the joke. We decided on fast food. 

On the way home, after we had eaten, Sam asked if I was driving yet. I explained to him that I didn't have enough money for insurance and that I didn't even know how to drive yet. 

"Driving is all instinct. Muscle memory and stuff." Sam said to me.

"I've driven before, but very briefly because it was illegal." 

"What if there were an emergency and you had to drive?" He looked at me for a second, then returned his eyes to the road.

"I don't know. Maybe." I shrugged.

"My throat is dry, I can't drive any more." Sam took his hands off the wheel and reached for his Pepsi. We were on the freeway and the car was going 70+ mph. I flipped.

"Sam! Oh my God! What are you doing!" 

"Emergency." He laughed.

I couldn't just NOT take the wheel. Sam was stubborn, and I knew that he'd let the car get real close to running off the road if I didn't take the wheel. He was such a tease back then. 

With my left hand I reached across and started to steer. 

"See? You can drive." He casually sipped his soda. 

He let me steer the whole ten miles home. When we were driving through the neighborhood, the steering got a bit difficult. He put his hand on the other side of the wheel and guided me through.

When we arrived back at my house, he walked me to my door. I nudged him for making me drive illegally. He nudged me back, but mid-nudge he grabbed hold of my waist, pulled me in and laid one on me. A long awaited kiss. 

"You should drive more often." He smiled, then I went inside and closed the door behind me. I stood with my back on the front door for a few seconds before going upstairs. I touched my lips and smiled, "Drive" is what I said.

Falling in Love

Falling in love is like tripping when you're walking. You trip, but then you keep going on forward.

Imagine for one second that the ground wasn't there.

Imagine that instead of the ground being there to stop you, that you just kept falling. You'd go on for forever wondering when you'd finally hit some kind of landing or if you'd forever be in this free fall. You're scared, terrified even. The wind that hits your face is cool, but unwelcoming of what's to come. Soon, you become numb and are left in a state of paralysis. You're alone, just falling.

But the ground is there and it does stop you. Friction catches you. You land and you love.

So who is your ground?

The Ship That Stayed

They were high school sweet hearts that were raised right across the street from one another. A couple that was just meant to be despite the odds. They were Luke and Lily, the inseparable two.

Lily, the beautiful white, freckled blonde.
Luke, the dark haired, dark eyed, son of a military man.

Together they planned their lives. College, jobs, marriage, then a family. Lily wanted to become a veterinarian and follow in the footsteps of her mother. Luke planned on opening a restaurant in his future, after culinary school.  Everything was going according to plan. They selected schools that were nearby and selected an apartment on the second floor. As their first pet they decided on a puppy from a shelter.

The draft came on a Tuesday afternoon. It happened after school, right as Luke got home. His usual routine included checking the mail for college scholarship responses. He stopped on the third square of cement that made up the sidewalk to the front door.

Across the street was Lily, who he had just walked home. She was waiting for him to wave, as they often did. Him on his porch and her on hers.

She knew right away that something was wrong. She dropped her books and removed her backpack. Within seconds she was looking over his shoulder.

"What? What is it? Did you get a scholarship?" She looked at him, but his eyes were drowning in tears. It was the first time she had seen him cry.

Never had a man of his family run from the call of duty. Luke wrapped his arm around Lily and hugged her close. Still, she had not read the unbearable words on the small piece of paper. She managed to get the letter free from his hand and read it aloud, each word getting slower and quieter as she went on.

"Please... report... to..." Lily fell on her knees. Luke followed.

"Let's elope." Lily murmured to Luke, but he shook his head.

____

It was made that on the day of his return, they would be married. Until then, Lily was to wear a ring. Being that they both were in high school, the ring was cheap. A silver diameter and a clear, fake, glittering diamond to represent their young love. Fake, yes, but it was more real than anything expensive.

On his last day before going to war, Luke stood with Lily's hands in his.
"If I don't come back, don't wait around. Be happy." He said, while choking back more tears.

Lily's tears were unstoppable. She shook her head and hugged him.

Then Luke stepped off the dock and got on the boat that would take him away from his small lake town.

____

For several years, Lily waited. Each evening she would watch the sunset on the lake, waiting for Luke's ship to return. She watched as her friends grew up, got married, and moved away. Everyone had left her. Luke's parents had not gotten word of his whereabouts for almost a year. Although it was hard, his parents, too, had moved away.

The fake ring was now on a chain, that Lily wore around her neck. She didn't go to college, or become a vet. Instead, she took up a job at a local diner and had earned herself the managing position.

"Don't wait around." Played in her head on the hard days. Cute young couples walking in and out of her diner, returning married, and some with kids. Each customer was living the life that Lily wasn't. Her employees had tried to take her to a pub or two, but she always managed to slip away before ordering a drink.

She rented a small house that overlooked the lake. Attached to the back yard was a dock, which she had repaired. It was only big enough for one person to stand on at a time, but it was enough for the lone Lily.

____

A man came into the diner one late night with dark hair and dark eyes. Lily was in the back on her break when he walked in. The diner was close to closing and she was the only one there.The cook was there, sitting in one of the booths with a newspaper in one hand and a coffee in the other.She heard the bell above the door ring.

"We're about to close." Lily said to the man with his back to her.
"So I've heard." It was a deep, voice.
Lily looked at the figure. He was worn, and tired.
"Luke?" She said across the diner, shakily.

"Excuse me?" The man turned around. He was just passing through. His name was Parker, a fisherman.

Lily was humiliated. The cook put down his coffee and looked up.

"It's getting late. Like the little lady said. We're closed.  We open at five o'clock tomorrow morning. Stop by then." Her coworker escorted Parker out.

When he returned, he walked over to Lily, who was standing still in terror.

"I'll close." The cook said as he guided Lily out the door as well.

____

It was time to get back out there and time to stop waiting around for the one who got away. Lily decided that at the start of the new year, she would begin her transformation. She'd get back in the game. It couldn't have been too late for her to find love, right?

____

 It was New Year's Eve and everyone was getting ready for their own resolutions. One last look at the sunset. One last stand on the dock before Lily would give up.

She stood there alone. She wore her pajamas because she hadn't started getting ready for any parties. She looked down at her hands, then sat down with her feet hanging off the end of the dock. She leaned over and peered at her reflection in the water.

She had aged. She was old. Tired and forgotten. She touched her face, then touched the chain which held the promise ring that Luke had given her. She stared at the relic for a long time. Then broke the chain and the ring went flying into the water. Horrified, she leaped into the water and started feeling for the ring. The water was not that deep, maybe five feet at the most. The floor of the lake was a terrible fiend. It ate her ring, her love.

Lily came up from the water crying, then went back down again. She had to find it, she had to find her love. She came up from the water again, and screamed in anger.

"Why did you leave me? I'm sorry!" She stood still, and when the water was calm again, she saw her reflection. Bitter and bereft. She punched the water and dove in again. When she came back up, she made her way back to shore.

Once out of the water, she opened her clenched fist. In it was the ring. Maybe next year she'd give up, but not now.

____

Three years went by and still, Lily remained devoted to the ring. She would smile at her customers more often and made more of an effort to spend time with people. Still, she was alone.

After work, Lily was walking home and passed the dock which Luke had said his good bye on. She hesitated for a moment, then walked along it and passed the different boats that were tied to it. She reached the end of the dock and sat down. She could watch the sunset from there.

Twenty years it had been, without any sign of Luke. No letter or confirmation that he was even alive. The ring kept him alive, and that was all that Lily needed.

The sun had gone to rest and Lily rose up from her feet. She turned around and stopped.

Dark eyes stared at her. She stared right back and for what seemed like a good half hour, they stared back at one another. Tears ran down both of their cheeks.

Eventually, he spoke.

"Long time no see."

Lily shook her head and touched his face. He was real, but he was old. So was she.

"My love, what has time done to you?" He touched her face back.

"Time left me."

Luke lifted the chain around her neck and held the ring in his hand. She had waited for him. The ring was old and scratched, but it was still alive.

"My love, you were the only ship that stayed."

The Bench on the Lake

     Jackson sat on the bench that overlooked the lake. It was the afternoon and the ducks quacked loudly as they dove in and out of the water. He looked at his phone, checking the time for the fourth time since arriving only seconds ago. He wondered what his date would look like. He knew she had changed from photos, but they were never detailed enough
   
     Elaine was in the car. It took a lot to convince her parents to let her even meet a boy, let alone - alone. The car pulled up beside the lake, and she got out of the car. She closed the door quietly and walked towards the figure on the bench.

     Jackson looked at the time on his phone again. Had she forgotten? Maybe something came up. He decided to call her, but then he heard a voice.

     "I used to come here after school my freshman year. I'd tell my step-mom I was going to the library or something, then just come here for an hour or so. I'd do homework, or watch the ducks, or count the people. It was peaceful. It's like, you could be anyone and as soon as you sat on this bench, you could be the queen of England, but you'd just become a part of the scenery. A part of the peace."

     Jackson smiled. "That was beautiful."
     "I figured it was a better start to this conversation than, 'Hey' and 'Hey' then an awkward silence."
     He laughed, then they got up and walked around the lake.

Prom

     Mary sat quietly in class, ignoring the foolish remarks from her peers to her teacher. She disliked to see her peers disrespect the teacher the way they did. Occasionally, her teacher would look to her, as if for help in the situation. Mary would stay quiet, afraid to embarrass herself.
     Mary was not much liked by the students in her class. It was a clique-filled room. The populars, the underdogs, nerds, and wannabes. She didn't really fit into any of them. Most of them saw her as small, and as a fool, herself. She had hoped for so long that she could change their minds. She wished she'd have some handsome man come in and take her away. For the time being, she sat at a crowded table, where she sat all alone. She had one friend, but he did not go to her school. She avoided telling people about him. She didn't want them to think of him as fake, imaginary, just a wish in her mind.
     Her teacher was trying to explain something, but could not get the attention of his students. He tried talking over them, but was on the verge of giving up. Then someone entered the room. He was tall, and wearing a military uniform. He stood in the corner of the room for a moment, sure not to interrupt the teacher. His hands were behind his back, as if concealing some secret. To those who had noticed him, he looked focused and strong. Mary did not turn around for she had not noticed the stranger.
     "What is it?" Asked the teacher, finally giving up on his students. Now, the students of the class had quieted down at the arrival of the soldier.
     "Is Mary here?" He said respectfully.
     Mary looked up. She knew the voice. She looked at the boy sitting across from her. The boy turned his head and gave her the, "Who's this?" look. Mary smiled at the boy, then slowly turned around in her seat and stood up. She faced the soldier. He was real. Surely, her classmates could see that now.
     "Will you go to prom with me?" He asked her while he held out a rose.
     The class was in awe. They thought that the soldier was a friend of the teacher's who had come to yell at them; however, that was not the case. Nobody said a word, except Mary, who spoke softly.
     "Yes." She hugged him.
     Some students applauded while other students in the class were whispering in surprise to this strong man who had chosen the small girl for his date.
     When the hug was complete, the man waved to the teacher and exited the room.
     Mary stood before her disrespectful class with a rose in hand. She ignored their ignorant remarks and weak questions that were being thrown at her. She just took her rose, and sat down quietly.