WE ArE tHe ReCkLeSs

"And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones.

'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.

Setting fire to our insides just for fun."

I don't remember a lot of the specifics of how this happened to us. A few things I remember, I guess, but not enough to decipher the cause or even the reason for it. There was nothing different about this day. Absolutely nothing. And I remember just how it started.

I wake early, just as my mother shoves aside the thick curtains and lets in the sunlight, insanely bright despite the thick glass.

"Rise and shine," she says, not exactly the voice of joy. When I don't move, she tugs at my covers, but I hold tightly to them, keeping them up to my neck. 

"Raiden," she scolds, then sighs, "Well, at least I know you're alive. Breakfast will be ready soon. You have to be dressed in time for the line."

I mumble something into my pillow. I wait for the door to close, then I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. After approximately three seconds, the dull cream color grows boring, and I decide getting ready for school may be more enjoyable.

Maybe.

I shrug into dark jeans and slide a violet tank over my head. Deciding that bangles are evil, I strip a thick leather band to each of my wrists. I pull a hairbrush through my through my dark waves of hair until they are at least a little bit bearable before wrapping a strip of leather around the lot. 
"Ray!"
I slide on dark brown boots and sling my shoulder bag across my back. "Coming!"
I bolt out of my bedroom and would've passed right by the kitchen if my mother hadn't yelled, "BREAKFAST FIRST!"
I shove a piece of toast into my mouth and try to ignore the lack of butter. My mother frowns, then goes to the counter and fixes a paper bag for my lunch. "You need to eat more," she states. 
"I eat enough."
She shoves the bag in one of my hands and hands me two pieces of bacon. "Eat."
"I have to go. The lines gonna start anytime now."
I wrap the bacon in a paper towel and slip it into the outside pocket of my shoulder bag. 
Then I grab one of the black cloaks hanging on the wall by the door. They're all the same, and simple, and they cover us from the head to the knee. I pull the hood down so that it covers my forehead, but my mother instantly pushes it aside to kiss my temple. "Have a good day at school."
"I will." 
She smiles at me, then turns, glaring at the empty hallway. "CYRUS! IT'S TIME FOR LINE."
My younger brother instantly emerges from his bedroom and into the kitchen. He grabs breakfast and a paper bag from the counter, then joins me by the door, munching on a strip of bacon as he shrugs his cloak over a black t-shirt and blue jeans. My mother stands watch, hands on her hips. When he's finished the bacon, Cyrus leans in and kisses my mother on the cheek. 
"See ya after school, Ma. Come on, Ray!"
And like that he's out the door, me at his heels. We keep our hoods over our faces as we walk under the long canopy that stretches over the alleys between houses. Cyrus finishes his breakfast and starts to dig into his lunch bag for more food.
"You'll get fat if you eat so much, Cy."
He doesn't look up from his search. "No, I eat food that's healthy for me. If you don't eat, you'll never grow."
I scowl at him. I'm older than him by more than a year, and already he's a foot taller than me. Before I can retaliate, he nudges me and nods to a group of people crowded under one of the larger canopies. "That's your class. You'd better get going."
Before I turn to go, I reach up and pull his hood further over his head. "Be safe," I tell him.
"You too."
I jog over to join my class. My teacher, a thin woman, and looking even thinner in her own cloak, hands me a strip of cloth like the ones we get every morning and afternoon. 
"Form a line, everyone!" She shouts to the class, "Stay behind the person in front of you at all times, and don't remove your blindfold!"
I reach up and tie the fabric over my eyes. I've been doing this for my whole life, ever since I left the neighborhood, and I remember, when I was small, what my mother said when I asked her about them.
"We wear them because the sun is bright, blindingly bright, and we aren't able to look at it, so we cover our eyes."
We cover our eyes. As I walk at a steady pace in line, I see only darkness, feel only a dull heat on my arms and back, but I know there's light surrounding us. 

(I didn't even edit this or read over it, so it's whatever.)
~Squiggs

Come Daydream With Me

         Somewhere far away, in a musky, abandoned old house, a boy plays the piano. The sound coming from the instrument is one you wouldn't expect. The keys have browned. The wood is chipped. The paint is peeling at the corners. But the strings are straight and firm, and their vibrations carry a soft, rich sound as the boy plays. He sits on an old piano bench, and inside the bench lay pile upon pile of forgotten music sheets that have long forgotten young age. They are curled at the edges, as if the corners are trying to reach up, trying to be seen. The boy would see, but he is not playing one of their songs. There's a sheet of music on the podium before him, an unlabeled, author-less piece of work. He plays, gently pressing down on the pedal with his foot, and as he does, the sole of his white converse rub against the rotting wooden floor just under the brass pedal.
           He's watched, but he doesn't notice. He sways in time with the tune, and his eyes drift   peacefully between open and closed. As calloused hands run along pale keys, she watches from the   corner. Thick vines hang above her, creating a shadow over her. It's leaves used to tickle her cheeks, but now she barely notices. She watches the boy with curiosity. She studies him. He looks from his shoes to her own bare feet, pale against the rough wood. She mimics him as he sways, tilting side by side, making her dark hair bounce from shoulder to shoulder. She takes a step towards him, watches him.
     "Hello?"
  He does not stop playing. His fingers don't falter on the keys.
 The girl walks forward, stopping a little ways from him, and repeats, "Hello? Who are you?"
The boy stalls, only slightly, letting his fingers hang over the keys for a split second while he listens.
        Then fingertips and piano keys become one again. The girl, not hearing the music, frowns and draws closer until she's right behind him.
       "Won't you answer me?"
    Leaves fall from a sizable tree branch protruding from the roof above. They land on the ground beside the piano bench and at the girl's feet. The crinkled, dry leaves make a rough sound as they hit the wood.
     And yet the boy plays still.
  The girl chokes back a sob and falls forward, wrapping her arms around the boy's shoulders and resting her head on the back of his neck. "Can't you hear me?"
    The song slows and becomes quiet as the boy begins to play two notes, back and forth, with his left hand. With his right, he tentatively reaches to his shoulder and touches the girl's arm.
     "You're here, aren't you?" He asks, smiling.
       The girl, shocked, draws away from him slowly. The boy doesn't turn around, but puts his other hand to the piano and picks up the pace again. The girl watches for a moment, then smiles, too. She looks at the sheet of music on the podium. Of course, she recognizes it. She'd seen it many times before. She reaches over the boys shoulder and touches the sheet gently. The old, wrinkled paper folds inward slightly at her touch, then resumes it's position. The title and author have faded, but the girl knows the name of the song. After all, it was written for her.
     It's Acacia's song.
  Smiling, the girl wraps her arms back around the boy as he plays. The boy shares the smile with her, but it's a sad smile, for he knows this ghostly presence beside him will disappear when the song ends.

Two More Hours...

Hey.
So, I'm not quite sure how this post will turn out. I'm just kinda....yeh.
HALLO! I'm Liz and I'm going to die today!
Well, most likely. Pops concert is in two hours, and...I don't think it's gonna go too well. We have a bunch of songs and didn't have a lot of time to practice. So I don't think it's going to be as good as Mr. Green thinks it's gonna be. He'll most likely kill us.
But, at least we have like FIVE FREAKING HOURS to practice. Then he plans for the concert itself to be like...two to three hours I think?
Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeegh.
Last night was pretty good. I got to go see Iron Man 3 with Dawson, Nathan, and a bunch of other friends. That was fun. I met a young British gentleman who was...interesting.
Yeh. And I'm kinda depressed, because I actually had the guts to do something and it...didn't happen the way I wanted it to.
I mentioned in another post that my choir is going to perform On My Own from Les Mis, and the first line and the "i love him" part at the end were made into solos, and auditions for that solo were Wednesday. There were, like, seven girls up there already. Page was one of them. At first, I wasn't going to go up. Then, at the last second, I went up.
We had to sing it by ourselves, alone, in front of THE WHOLE FREAKING CHOIR. I was terrified. There were I think four, maybe five girls before me, and the majority of them were so nervous that it they didn't sound as good as they usually do. Page was next to me. She went, then I went.
I just did my best. I kinda zoned out while doing so, and I know I was blushing. I heard whispers around me and from the choir, and I thought it was because I sounded bad. I felt like crying. But I finished and so did the other girls, and I went back to my seat.
Where a bunch of girls were grinning at me.
They said I sounded great!! I'm not even kidding, they were really surprised that I sounded like that! Mr. Green and his assistant were trying to figure out who would get the solo, and it wasn't me. We sang the song again with the girl who did get it, and afterwards, the girls in my section were like "That should have been you, you should have gotten the solo."
I was ecstatic. I never really felt like I fit in there, and now they were cheering me on!
Then Kira came over from her section and just stood there looking at me. I asked her what it was, and she said,
"Like, all the altos think Mr. Green should have given you the solo."
I WAS SPAZZING I WAS SO HAPPY PEOPLE LIKE ME AGHHHHHHH.
But yeh. A 9th grader got it. My mom seemed mad about that. Personally, I think the girl who got it uses too much vibrato, but it's Mr. Green's choice not mine.
And now for GIFs, because GATSBY

Yes Gatsby was brilliant as frick. But

  

 CAN

 WE

 TALK

 ABOUT

 THIS

 MAN

I used to like Captain America.

But then.

Iron Man.

Probably the number one reason I loved Iron Man 3 is that when people talk about Iron Man, they just talk about him being a cheater or something because he only is awesome in his suit, but the third movie was him in the suit and being awesome out of the suit, and I really liked that.

Cuz he's great.

Kay.

I should get ready or something.

Liz out.

Iron Man.

<3

Grace and Choice- Alto's Story (part 2)

I was running.
  The small mud and stone and wood buildings burned and crumbled around me. The air was thick with smoke, and it crept into my lungs. People ran past me, sometimes shoving me, but otherwise paying me no mind.
  Of course they didn't. They never had, so why should it be different this time.
  I didn't care.
  I had to find Etzel.
The thin soles of my boots did little to protect the bottom of my feet from the embers that littered the ground, rekindled by bits of fabric and wood. In the mix of fire and smoke, I couldn't tell where I was in the village. Someone slammed into me, and I was knocked to the ground. Flames licked at my bare arms and neck. To my surprise, a strong grip wrapped around my arm and pulled me to my feet. I looked through bleary, slit eyes to see a middle-aged man glaring at me.
   "Get out of here, kid!" He shouted, then he shoved me away. I caught myself before I fell and broke into a sprint.
   I reached a large gap between two buildings and knew I was on the right track. I ran through a sort of alley of stone houses until I reached a small one made of wood and leafy branches. The left side of branches had caught fire, despite the green still clinging to the freshly-cut limbs. I ran forward and tugged those that have caught fire onto the ground, then I ducked inside the small building.
   "Etzel?" I shouted, even though I had no need to. Against the single mattress in the corner lay Etzel's backup bow and quiver. He hadn't been there, otherwise he would've taken them with him. I snatched up both and ran back outside.
   People were still running about. I looked around and couldn't see Etzel among them.
   I didn't understand what's happening.
I slung the quiver over my head and ran off into the forest, to where I knew Etzel would be under these circumstances.
The air was a slight bit clearer here, even though a cluster of trees had begun to catch fire. I coughed into my arm and ran, keeping a tight hold on Etzel's bow.
Then my feet left the ground. My small form was lifted into the air by the quiver on my back. I kicked uselessly at my attacker, who turned me around to face him. Dark brown eyes, not unlike my own, glared back at me. Perfect teeth were clenched behind perfect lips that lay under a perfect nose in the middle of his perfect face. It was then that I knew.
Angel.
I kicked again, luckily catching his shoulder. It didn't faze him, but I was able to push myself up into the air and twist out of his grip. Unfortunately, my plan had some flaws.
I hit the ground and rolled a couple times before coming to a stop. I couldn't get back up. The quiver dug into my shoulder blade, and the bow lay useless five feet from where I was.
The angel stood over me with a thick-bladed sword in his hand, poised above me. I stared at it, expecting for tears to well up in my eyes or something, or expecting to hear myself scream. But I didn't do anything. I just stared.
Then I heard the whistle of an arrow being loosened.
The angel crumpled in front of me, an arrow sticking from his shoulder. Etzel stood behind him, bow raised. He lowered it and came towards me.
Etzel grabbed my hand. "Come on!!"
We ran until we reached the stream. Etzel kept a tight hold on my hand. When I looked at him, I actually saw fear in his eyes.
But that fear was mixed, just a bit, with amusement.
We plunged into the river and started to swim across. I was a bit behind Etzel - he was always a better swimmer than I- when he suddenly grabbed my arm and shoved me under the water.
Surprised, I was taken by the current. Etzel, still gripping my arm, was taken with me. I flailed in the water until I desperately needed air and, pulling Etzel with me, kicked furiously until I found the surface again.  It wasn't til then that I noticed my friend was limp.
"Etzel?" I gasped as soon as I got air. The current was strong, and it shoved us into one of the large rocks along the river. I tried to get Etzel up onto it. He was quiet, and his eyes were closed.
"Etz-" A thread of scarlet trickled down the rock and into the river.
He opened his eyes and looked at me. Smiled faintly. Then closed his eyes again.
That was all. No last words. He was gone.
Forever.
I stayed there for a while, pinned between the crushing waves and the boulder, clinging to my dead friend.
No.
Why.
I open my eyes, carved stone filling my vision. It's dark here, but it's dry, unlike the river.
I reach to my side. My slingshot is gone. No shocker there.
The stone wall curves in a crescent moon shape, the rest cut off from the hall by a set of iron bars. Through the bars, a pale golden light shines, just enough to illuminate the corridor.
It was a dream, I realize. Nothing more.
The past. 
Where am I?
This is a cell.
Why...
What did I do?
Remembering Etzel's words, I reach into my pocket and find it to be stuffed with small stones. I breathe a sigh of relief.
I'll be fine.
I guess.

Grace and Choice- Alto's Story (part 1)

       "Careful," the voice beside me said. "Pull back slowly, in case you decide to screw up and hurt yourself."
   I bit the inside of my cheek, a habit I'd had since I was six years old. I kept my eye on my target, which happened to be a fat lizard sunning itself on a nearly-submerged rock in the middle of the river. I pinched the leather strap between my thumb and forefinger and pulled back on the rubbery string to the point where it was stretched from my hand to the bottom of my chin. The rock hidden within the leather was sharp; I could tell because it was coming close to tearing through the leather and poking my thumb. But I knew it wouldn't do that. Etzel made this slingshot, which means it had to be fool proof.
  I took a deep breath and heard the boy beside me do the same. Then I released the rock, and it sailed across the river and hit the lizard hard in the side. The reptile, still alive and nearly unhurt, was startled enough to fall into the water and rush away with the current.
  I didn't care that my prey was lost.
  I hit it. I actually hit it,  and on my first try.
Etzel was as surprised as I was. I turned to look at him, and he was ecstatic. His eyes were alight with joy, something I hadn't seen much in the past two weeks I'd been with him.
  "Nice one!" he exclaimed, "and here I thought you'd be a screw up!"
I would have responded to this, probably with some sort of witty retort, but I was too busy smiling. I looked down at the slingshot in my hand.
  "It's pretty neat," I said. My eyes shifted to the bow that was strapped across Etzel's back, "But I still think learning archery would be more useful."
The boy shook his head and rested a protective hand on the string of the bow that stretched along his chest.      
"Nope, this thing ain't a toy. It's a weapon, one that can kill people. Like me," he shook his head again finished with, "You ain't touching it."
     "I know it's not a toy!" I argued. I didn't see how it was fair of him to have a bow and me not to. Etzel was twelve, just a year older than I was. Why should he have gotten the good weapons while I was stuck with a lousy slingshot?
Etzel started to walk away, and I followed him at a slow trot, trying to keep up but not wanting to be right on his heels.
     "Did you start with a slingshot?" I questioned. "Like I am?"
He nodded and took a sharp turn, following the slightly faded path that lead back to our 'campsite'.
      "Yeah, I started with it, and was stuck with it for a good six months. I hated the thing, but I would still choose it over a sword."
    "Why's that?"
Etzel stopped and, in one swift movement, pulled the bow from his back and had an arrow notched. He let it fly into a crowd of leafy limbs twenty feet from where we stood. I heard the arrow hit something, and down from the cluster of leaves dropped a fat bird of some kind.
     "Distance, for one," Etzel said, walking to retrieve the bird. "And, 'specially with a slingshot, you can stay hidden somewhere, like in a tree or somethin', and pick off the enemy one by one, soldier by soldier, just like that. One of the downsides, though-"
Etzel leaned down and pinned the bird to the ground with his knee. With his right hand, he jerked the arrow free from the birds chest and wiped the tip on his pants. "If you don't retrieve your arrows, you could run out at any time."
    I stood watching, silent. He looked up at me and grinned.
    "Don't you worry, though, Alto."
He tied a bit of string around the birds neck and, holding the other end of the string, swung the fowl over his shoulder. He put his other arm around me and we continued our walk to the camp.
    "You'll be fine with that sling, s'long as you always remember to keep a pocketful of rocks."

Grace and Choice- Nessa's Story (part 2)

    Our attack failed. We were pushed back far past the inside borders of Gladren. In a matter of days, the war had migrated from the fields of Hynix to the main sanctuary of Gladren.
      The battle is never-ending. I cut down one Elsan and another takes its place. Blood stains the stone floor and walls around me. The sanctuary walls rise up almost thirty feet before bending into arching beams that stretch to connect the walls. Even now the Hynix creatures with wings fight angels, twisting throughout the beams like they are threading yarn.
   Rank after rank of Elsan soldiers spill like waves into the sanctuary. Out from the black and brown, glints of an angel's silver armor can be seen, but it's rare. We will be overpowered.
  Will the leaders of Elsan really allow this? Even though we are a threat, will they really wipe us out?
I cut down my opponent and spread my wings, lifting myself into the air to get a better look at the approaching ranks. The black and brown spreads through the grey and silver like mud in clear water. While I'm hovering fifteen feet from the fighting, a winged Hynix dweller sees me and charges. He's mostly human, and has large feathered wings resembling an eagle's. In his hands he wields a long halberd.
Uh oh.
I block his attack with my spear, then shove the shaft of my weapon into his rib cage. I hear bones breaking but don't wait long enough to make sure. As he's doubled over in pain, I bring the blade of my spear along the bones holding his left wing and hear another loud crack. The wing crumples, and, with a cry of pain, the creature falls into the chaos below.
I focus again on the oncoming army and notice a dark navy in the midst of the dull colors. It's a man, from the looks of it, wearing a long robe. A tall hood hides his face. I watch as he comes next to what I believe is one of the Elsan generals. He leans close to say something to him, and the general nods.
Something is wrong.
The hooded man continues walking. He weaves easily through the crowd, and no angel or Elsan dares to try to touch him or strike him down. As he gets closer to me, I notice there is the smallest of smiles on his face, a calm smile. Maybe, even, a sad smile.
He stops and looks around at everything. His eyes pass over me, meet mine for a moment, then continue grazing the battle. I fly closer to the wall, away from most of the fighting, and continue to watch him, perplexed by his calm actions. Finally, he raises a hand and pushes his hood back. Shaggy black hair spills over his shoulders, framing a tanned face and deep blue eyes.
Then, he speaks.
"Angels!" He shouts, "Creatures of Gladren!"
The noise around the sanctuary becomes hushed as the opposing forces actually stop fighting to hear the man speak.
"You know who we are," he says, "We are Hynix, and we are Elsan. Our worlds and yours have lived in peace for thousands of years! That bond was strained when you began to threaten us, and broke when you attacked and raided two villages in Hynix. "
He looks around again, as if he's trying to meet the gaze of every angel in the room. His eyes hold little malice.
"You are a threat we can't afford to have!" he shouts, "We hope that we can again gain your trust, and you ours. But for now, we must quiet the threat that stands before us."
He raises a hand. As he does, the sleeve of his navy robe slides down to his elbow.  Hanging from a silver cord wrapped a few times around his wrist is a dark blue, sphere shaped gem.
No.
"I am the High Mage, Airon!" the man shouts, "and I'm sorry to have to do this to you."
I try to rise up into the air, try to get away, but one of the Elsan soldiers near me hits me with the shaft of his ax, slamming me into the wall. I open my eyes and see the Mage's hand wrapped around the gem, his eyes shut. I even think I saw a tear slide down his cheek. Brilliant blue light fills my vision.
Then everything fades into black.

Grace and Choice- Nessa's Story (part 1)

A happy- at least, that's how they seemed right then, under the circumstances- couple stood beside each other. The man had his arm around the woman's waist, and she leaned into him comfortably. They stood smiling down into a carved wood cradle that was gently rocked from side to side, being pushed by the man's other hand. Inside the cradle, wrapped in layers of thin, soft blankets, lay an infant girl. Small wisps of blonde hair curled around her ears and atop her small head. She looked up at the man and woman with the largest blue eyes the man claimed he'd ever seen. The woman laughed and pretended the man had insulted her. She reached into the cradle and scooped up the small girl. As she did, the blankets fell away, revealing pale feathered wings protruding from the infant's thin nightgown, wings like her mother and father's. The woman brought her close and tucked the child's head under her chin.
"My little Nessa," the woman whispered.
The man wrapped his arms around the two of them, and they stood like that for some time.
    This was my favorite memory.
I stood away from the family, in the shadows of the small room. There was a time when these happy families existed, and war was scarce, sometimes unheard of. But angels have always been a threat to the other creatures of these worlds. There can never be true peace.
I stared at the woman's face and watched a tear slide down her cheek. I stood silent, unemotional. I mouthed the words as the woman spoke again.
"My sweet, darling girl."
My face remained stiff, a small frown on my lips. I'd seen this scene too often to cry every time.
"NESSA!"
I blinked, and I was back. I was not startled to see my rank leader's face inches from my own.
"Daydreaming?" he questioned with a snarl.
I smirked. "Always."
His brow furrowed. "You don't get payed to get lost in your own mind."
"I don't get payed at all."
He grunted. "Servitude to the Elders is enough, isn't it?
Sure it is. Cuz my whole point of life is to die for a bunch of old people.
The rank leader shoved me backward a bit, trying to steer me toward the large stone wall beyond the maze of red and blue tents. "Get to your post. The Elsan army isn't far away. We need you to be ready for anything."
I resisted spitting at him and started the long walk to the wall.
Almost three years of this, and I'm still being treated like a rookie. 
I understood that with a power like mine, others like me were needed on the battlefield. With us, the angels held the advantage.
I looked back to make sure the rank leader had turned away, then I broke into a jog in the other direction, running parallel to the wall instead of towards it. I cut through the parade of tents, trying to get to one of the old watchtowers.
We were in Hynix then, just at the edge of it. Gladren was just a ways away, and that was why this next battle was so serious. If the Elsan army pushed us back our own land anymore than they already had, then Gladren would be in danger. The Elders would be in danger.
I climbed the stone steps to the watchtower and burst through the empty archway. Immediately, cold air hit my face, relieving after the heat of the crowd below.
"Nessa!"
It was Azreal on watch. The young warrior threw me a glare when I smiled at him.
"What?" I asked as innocently as I could.
His glare remained. "You're post is out on the wall, not here."
I tossed a thick blonde braid over my shoulder and fluttered my wings.
"Come on, I'm curious. I can't see far from down on the wall. I have to know what's going on."
"Nessa," he warned, but I ignored him and instead stared out over the tops of trees. A few plumes of smoke far in the distance were signs of where the Elsan army was.
"They're close," Azreal observed, following my gaze. I simply smiled.
"What do you think?" I asked, "Do you think we'll win, or the Elsans?
Azreal looked at me, looked at cocky, overconfident, courageous me, and said, "I truly don't know."
I simply laughed at his honesty.

Grace and Choice- Tane's Story (part 2)

 Four weeks after that, the drafting began. My father and brother were sent to serve in the army that consisted of both Hynix and Elsan men, wellborns, and various other creatures fit to fight against the angels. The war only last a few years, but it felt like centuries to me, who had to stay home with my mother and younger sister. I was going to be drafted when I turned sixteen, but the leader of our village wouldn't allow it, and hid me and a few others away when members of the Elsan military came to round up new soldiers.
     "Even the bravest of warriors as young as you have a slim chance in coming out of this battle alive," he'd told us as we huddled under the sanctuary, "There are far greater destinies for you children than dying in a war against angels."
      It was in the year after that the angels surrendered and the war finally ended. We were told that, frozen in stone, the angels wouldn't be a threat to us. It wasn't until a few months after that they started the 'awakening'.
     "The angels can become amazing allies for us," the Elsan military generals said when they told our village the news, "If we wake them at a slow pace, they might begin to trust us and we might begin to trust them."
     "Trust angels?" My brother had muttered from beside me, "Impossible."
Silently, I agreed with him. From what I'd seen, I knew the angels could never be our allies.
     The school I attended stopped teaching regular academics and we began to learn how to wake angels from their sleep. From the spell that the mage Airon cast, only the sons of the warriors in that war could wake angels, so my class was relatively small. It was just me and two other boys whose fathers were able to fight in the war. The lessons were simple and, in my mind, completely pointless, and I longed to learn important things in the classroom beside ours. Despite our protests, the Elsan military made it a priority that we continued in our small class. I didn't care much, until one day my father came to me and told me that I was to be transferred to Elsa with the rest of the Hynix wakers. He told me that my mother already knew, but commanded me not to tell my brother and sister. He feared that my brother would do something rash if he found out. I nodded simply, but still, I did not understand why I had to go. The military had enough boys already. Even so, two weeks later, I said goodbye to my mother and father, then went to see my siblings. I hugged my sister, which is not an odd thing, because I hugged her quite often then, but this time she seemed to notice something was wrong, and looked up at me quietly when I pulled away. Then it was my brother's turn. I stood in front of him a bit awkwardly before holding out my hand to him. He stared at it for a moment before gripping it and pulling me to him. "I know," he whispered in my ear. I pulled away, stunned. Was I that obvious?
     "Don't worry," he said, "You won't be going alone." He tossed me a small smile, and only later did I learn that he had joined the Elsan army. During a recess at the new school I began to attend in Elsa, I went to the military barracks that resided not far from the academy and found him.
     "Why did you join?!" I asked in a hushed whisper so no one around would here. "You hate the Elsans and what they believe, so why agree to become one of them?"
He smiled at me and said, "We protect the Wakers, so now I know I can protect you."
And he did. Until my mother fell ill four months ago, and he went back to Hynix to help my father and sister take care of her.
It's been two years since the end of the war, and every since then, I've been training to become a Waker. I'm nineteen now, and I've almost finished my training. All I have left is the final exam. And what do I do for this?
    I have to use my gained knowledge to wake an angel.

Grace and Choice- Tane's Story- Part 1

Tane Chrissali was straight. <3 Bailey  I was fourteen when the war reached the edge of our land, but my father says that the threat hung over us for much longer than that. He told me tales of the angels and their cruelty, but I never thought that they would come this far to gain power. Not until that day, anyway, and I remember it perfectly.
    I was jogging through the woods, easily enough to keep an eye on the hoof prints littering the wet dirt below my feet, but fast enough to stay close behind my prey. I looked up and smiled as I realized how close the creature I was hunting was to my homemade trap. What would Jaden think when he saw me trap my first catch! I reached for the hunting knife I kept at my waist and pulled it from its thin leather sheath, then burst through a wall of tree limbs into the clearing where I'd set up the trap. I was surprised and disappointed when I saw that it wasn't a deer in my trap; it was a young satyr girl. Her left hoof was caught in a tight knot of rope while the rest of her body was under a tangle of net. Her hands pulled at the rope, but she stopped when she saw me. Her eyes landed on the knife in my hand, and she bit her lip and fearfully pressed her back against the large rock I'd arranged my trap along. Then-
     "You moron."
I turned as my older brother pushed his way through the brush, knocking me gently on the head as he past me. "You followed the wrong prints."
    "What?" I asked. "But you said hooves were-"
    "A satyr's hoof has a deeper, slimmer groove than a deer's. You have to remember that when hunting."
He reached the young satyr girl and gently cut her free from the netting and rope. She looked at me warily, then cast him a grateful nod before disappearing into the trees.
    I kept my eyes on my mud-coated boots as my brother walked towards me. "Sorry," I said simply. I heard him chuckle and he tussled my shaggy black hair. "Don't fret, little brother," he joked, "it was a well-set trap.'
I smiled up at him and he draped his arm across my shoulders. Then he looked up as a strong wind shifted the air around us.
    "Jaden?" I asked, "What is it?"
His eyes were on the sky. I followed his gaze and saw a deer <3 Mary dark shape resembling a flock of birds. They began to descend.
    "Brother?"
He put a hand on my shoulder and shoved me toward the edge of the clearing. "Get back to the house, Tane."
    "But-"
I watched him draw the long sword he had strapped across his back. My breath caught as I saw this. I'd only ever known my brother to unsheathe that sword when he thought he was in danger. He turned and looked at me. "Go, Tane."
      I ducked under the shade of the trees and sprinted towards our home. What could be coming at us now? And why would they come after our village? We were far from a pretentious threat. My breathing became ragged as I ran as fast as I could, my only thoughts being on the command my brother gave me. Get home, warn the villagers, and try to keep our family safe. I stopped suddenly as a dark shadow ran along the branches arching above me. I drew my knife. The branches rustled and leaves showered over me, then a large creature came through the limbs and landed in front of me. I knew what it was at once. The large white-feathered wings proved it's being. But the rest was like nothing I had imagined. When my father described them to me, I pictured them to be dark, evil creatures, the kind that you would know by how they looked that they were cruel. But this was not how I imagined them.
      This was a male soldier, and it pained me to say he looked almost human. His face was long, with a pointed chin, bare, not even a hint of stubble. Thin lips were set under a ski-slope nose, which rested between two piercing green eyes. Long locks of golden blond hair hung in wavy curls around his forehead. His ears seemed almost pointed, not unlike an elf's. He looked down, probably because he was a good three feet taller than I. Then I knew what my father had told me wasn't a lie. The angel's eyes were filled with pure hatred. It had a long weapon in its left hand, almost like a spear but with four tips arranged in a diamond shape set at the end. He gripped the shaft with both hands and raised it to strike me down. I held up my arms in retaliation, but was pulled aside and shoved to the ground. I shut my eyes and held my breath, waiting for death to take me. Then I felt a hand on my arm, pulling me to my knees. I opened my eyes.
     "Come on!" My brother urged, tugging at my forearm. I looked on the ground and snatched up my knife before I let him pull me to my feet. I then followed my brothers gaze to the same angel as before, but this time it was lying on its side, blood pouring from a wound in its chest. I looked at my brother and noticed that the tip of his sword was also red with blood.
The angel moved a little, showing that he was still alive. Then he fixed a glare on my brother and I.
     "Filthy...Wellborns," he spat.
My brothers grip tightened on my shoulder, and when I looked at his hand, I saw that his knuckles were white.
    "Why are you attacking our village?" Jaden asked.
The angel said nothing at first, then looked at me and held my gaze. "The end is coming. Only one of us can survive, so Gladren is getting a head start."
     "Why Hynix? We're not a threat to angels."
     The angel stopped speaking then, and instead looked down at his chest, where the torn skin was beginning to mend itself. My brother swore and raised his sword, but not before turning me away. I heard a sickening crunch and was suddenly grateful for the mercy my brother had displayed by making me turn my back.
     "Come on," he said then, "There are more. We have to get back to the village."
 

Struggling Against the Tide

Hey. I've been playing around with the tool bar. Fair warning, this is one of those rant posts. Originally, I made this blog for two reasons: as part of my Honors Creative Writing class and to post fun stories. Lately, I've only been holding up half of that plan.
I'm sure none of you are particularly overjoyed at my rants. So you don't have to read this, if you don't want to. I just find that writing it down is better than resorting to something worse.
And this post is somewhat different. It's not as much a rant as it is a distress call.
This past week has been...really bad. You know it's gotten bad when the only thing you look forward to is for your teacher to put into Powerschool the best grade you've gotten in math all year.  But the worst of it began Friday night at a friends house, where I, like the idiot I am, dropped my iPhone into the toilet.
I'm surprised at how quickly I acted. Immediately the phone was back in my hand, and I was shaking the water out and drying it off as best I could. Minutes later the phone was in a bag of white rice.
It was in the water for no more than five seconds. So why does it still not work?
I was freaked about that. Instead of hiding it, like I told myself to do, I told my dad. The phone is still in the rice, and we haven't tried turning it on yet.
That's not all that happened, though.
Saturday, around 3 or 4 pm. I was at a birthday party (yes, I still go to those), atop a blow-up slide. There were, I don't know, maybe six girls up there. Maybe seven, I'm not exactly sure. From where I was, a little less than halfway down the slide, I couldn't see the ladder because of the separator between it and the slide.
I'm still not certain why it happened.
There were a lot of girls up there. It was too heavy.
It wasn't held down quite enough.
It was too windy.
It was on a hill.
It doesn't matter, it still fell.
I was smiling. I remember that I stopped smiling as it started to fall. I thought,
"it's not a big deal, it happens. We'll be okay."
As it fell, I saw the sky, then the bushes with pink and purple flowers on them. I didn't close my eyes. I was too afraid to do that.
I remember being airborne, for maybe one or two seconds. I had just had my hand around Lee's ankle. I remember. Me and Katelyn were trying to pull her down the slide with us. I don't recall letting go. But now I had nothing to hold on to, and no one to hold onto me. Then, I hit the ground.
It was dark at first. Very dark. Then I saw the blue and yellow of the blow-up.
I hurt a bit.
I was against, almost on top of someone- Kira. I rolled off of her, trying to give her space; there wasn't much of that. There was an opening in front of us, but the blow-up hadn't finished flipping. The rest fell, blocking the light. A little showed from the yellow net behind us, but it was almost covered because it was against the grass. My claustrophobia set it then.
I thought a lot of things.
We're going to run out of air. We're going to die.
It fell...it really fell. 
Is someone already dead.
I was too scared to cry. This happened in seconds. As the blow-up was almost done flipping, I could feel it behind me, pressing against my neck and back, pushing me forward, almost on top of the other girls. I looked around and saw sunlight through a space where two sides of the blow-up met.
I heard the other girls talking, yelling, almost. I saw Katelyn crawling through the space. Kira was still beside me, and so was Allie. I had to get out so they could have room to follow. I was on my knees, so I half-crawled, half-walked to the space and squeezed out.
Katelyn was already out there, sitting on the ground. She was laughing, but I knew she did that when she was nervous or scared or something. She knew this was serious.
I looked back at the blow-up that lay upside down on the grass. Kira emerged, followed by Allie. She was the last to get out. She was holding her neck. She immediately sat on the ground.
The adults were there. One was beside Allie, seeing if she was alright. I could tell she was freaking out. She assured him she was okay.
I hardly ever see Allie like I'd seen her then. When the man walked away, she laid down with her head half on my lap, half on the ground. I couldn't move. I knew I was fine. I knew nothing was broken or sprained. I knew there wouldn't have to be any calls to parents about this. But I was scared. I was really, really scared.
It sounds childish, being freaked out about a blow-up slide flipping. But think about this: if I or Katelyn had been at the bottom of the slide, we would've free-fallen ten, maybe fifteen feet onto a pile of girls. The blow-up bending could have killed us. I'm just thankful that no one was seriously hurt. I was still too scared to cry about it. So were the other girls. We kinda just laughed about it. I'm only just now letting my feelings out.
I spent the night at Kira's- I didn't really want to face home just yet. When I did get home, I mowed the lawn. Then I went inside and played with my new cosplay glasses.
They were crooked. I didn't want them to be crooked. I didn't mean to bend them that much.
I watched my mother try to fit the two pieces back together with super glue. Then, echoing what my dad had said minutes ago, she stated, "I wish you hadn't done this."
Really? You wish? You think I did this on purpose? They're stupid glasses, and I'm closed to tears about them.
"I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up  then!" I shouted. After that, I stood next to the sink, pondering what to do next. I was waiting for her to reply. For my dad to shout something from the living room. When nothing happened, I went upstairs to my room. I grabbed some pillows and stuffed animals and shoved them into my closet, where I lodged myself.
I figured either my dad or mom would come in moments or minutes to talk to me, to ask me what was wrong.
I waited an hour.
I gave up ten minutes ago, because I scared myself. I was still in my closet, crying into the huge stuffed cow that my uncle and aunt had given me years ago.
I noticed that my sewing kit was right next to me. Very close. There were needles in it.
No one would even know. Just a little scrape on my arm, like that girl in that book did. Of course, she'd done it a lot, but you have to start somewhere, right?
No.
Now I'm sitting against my bed. I'm contemplating playing my ukulele, but I don't think that will make me feel better. I'd probably be better off going to bed. I'm still thinking about almost dying, so I don't think I'll get that much sleep. I want to skip school tomorrow, but I know my parents won't let me. I haven't told them about the blow-up, and I don't think I'm going to.
I've wondered about the good things that happen to me, then the bad. A lot of bad happens, so much that it normally drowns out the good. But don't get me wrong.
I don't need a lecture. I don't need therapy or a doctor or medicine or anything like that. I don't need to be on antidepressants even though I'm depressed most of the time.
I just feel like a need a real reason to keep me going as I struggle against the tide.