What I have learned about Equity is that it is the standard of which us as educators should do our best to achieve. We want to be able to treat our students fairly, as to be able to do that, we need to focus on Equity rather than Equality. To start, the concept of Equity is that of which everyone gets the necessary resources and opportunities that they need to achieve due to either incapability or lack of it where they are. An example of this would be more community focused efforts in schools in poor neighborhoods because they need more resources to give their students a chance at being able to be the most successful that they are able to be. 

In education, Equity is making sure that people are treated fairly, and that does not always mean equally. For example, as we previously learned in this unit, developing a strategy to make sure you do not develop favorite students is incredibly important in the classroom. One of these strategies is to have either notecards or popsicle sticks that you go through the day in a random order. You would pick one, have the student answer a question or talk to them about the material, and then put their name aside and not pick it again until you have gone through all of the students. The teachers who used this specific strategy to prevent favoritism mentioned that they put students who had special needs name’s in multiple times, so they would be more involved or be able to interact more with the lessons. This, to me at least, is a very important strategy to be able to include these students who need extra help or prompting to join, so they will be able to be involved when they wouldn’t be able to before. This is an example of Equity in the classroom, as I have previously stated. 

Equity’s role in education is to make sure that people get the support they need to be the most successful in their education. I will be especially focusing on this concept in my learning of being an educator because I think it is incredibly important to realize and know that people aren’t able to get the same resources at birth, even if they really need them. I want to do more research on the subject and find more strategies so I will be able to implement strategies in my (Eventual) classroom that will allow all of my students to thrive under the circumstances.

Three lessons that stuck with me this week were, the Implicit Bias lessons, the lessons of Bias in kid’s books, and the lessons of allyship. These lessons stuck with me because they are incredibly important to me and I thought they were interesting. 

The Implicit Bias lessons were interesting and stuck with me more because I think that they are important to understanding how we can act without even realizing it. I think that I have made at least some progress this week (even though I already knew at least some about all of the material these lessons hold) with my own implicit biases and this definitely helped me identify and set a course for retraining my brain so it won’t act like this and make it so I view all people equally, even those I do not respect because of their actions. I feel like this lesson is one most people should learn because it is very important to understand that even if you don’t personally have any biases, you can still have unconscious ones that you aren’t even aware of. 

I think the lesson that we build implicit biases early into childhood from our surroundings and books we read as kids is the most important out of the three I am talking about. This is because this is our next generation. The people who we will leave the world and who will be running it. We need to focus on them and make sure that they are given a shot at being able to live without being absolutely miserable. If we are able to obliterate the implicit biases and ideas that harm others when children are small, then we would allow them to be able to build a better world then we could in the future. 

The lessons concerning allyship are also very important to me, in my opinion, because it is difficult to be able to understand what people are thinking and being in their shoes without thinking about it. We have a lot of problems in our world already without drowning out the voices of people who are more oppressed than us. We as a people, especially those of us who have privileges to speak out and raise other’s voices, need to be more adamant to get these changes, and the first part of that is getting people aware and knowledgeable about how things are. How things in this world suck and get those stuck in cycles of misinformation out of those cycles. 

– How the Raven Stole the Sun

 

“How the Raven Stole the Sun” is a book of a Native Alaskan folktale and the copy I listened to was written by Maria Williams and illustrated by Felix Virgil.. It is about how raven, a trickster spirit, managed to trick a wealthy person to release the sun, moon, and stars into the sky so everyone could enjoy them, even if most of the reason why he did it was because he was curious about what was in the boxes. This is one of the only Native Alaskan stories I can remember off of my head because I was read it frequently in my preschool and I still enjoy the story to this day. I could not find any biases in it other than potentially the wealthy person in the story being bad (but eat the rich, so go off). But everyone in the story (despite the few people) are native alaskan, so I think that it would be fine considering that it isn’t playing into any stereotypes that would be bad for the group.

I think this book would do great to expand someone’s library in a diverse way because it’s a fun story with beautiful, colorful illustrations that would hold a child’s attention, and it’s also folklore of native Alaskans that don’t portray them in a way that is harmful to them. I will admit that because this is a folktale it is iffy to share with children too much (as the article discusses), but if someone is looking for a place for an indigenous book in their collection, “How the Raven Stole the Sun” would be a wonderful place for that. 

 

– How the Raven got his Crooked Nose 

“How the Raven got his Crooked Nose” is an Alaskan Dena’ina Fable. The retold story I listened to was written by Barbara J. Atwater and Ethan J. Atwater and illustrated by Mindy Dwyer. The story was about how a raven trickster named Chulyen got a crooked nose because he didn’t fix it when he put it back on his face after stealing it back once he lost it. The story teaches that when you do something, you should take it slow and do it right so you won’t have to live with something unfixable–like Chulyen’s crooked nose. I think this story was very enjoyable and I loved how the grandmother was telling it to her grandchild. I couldn’t find any sort of biases in the story and I think it was just a lovely fable to teach the lesson of not rushing through everything if you can help it. 

I think this book would also be a wonderful addition to any library if they were wishing to diversify it a bit more. As it is a Fable, I would say that you should be careful about not having too many as they can be questionable at times and not teach the right things, but this is a simple, fun, story that should be perfectly fine. This was a colorful book with interesting and beautiful drawings and ways of showing things that I haven’t seen in the children’s books I’ve read. 

 

After taking the mindset test, I received the results that I am working towards a growth mindset, but my fear of failure and rejection from my peers holds me back from achieving that and my goals. I am not surprised by these results as I am far too often afraid of upsetting people and failing at life and school. I blame this fear on the fact that I was placed into gifted and talented programs as a child and never really challenged at anything during my formative years. Through the research and learning I’ve done in this class so far, I am aware that this exact thing is what leads to people having a fixed mindset. I would like to report that this fear of rejection is only majorly in an academic setting and I think I do have a growth mindset for social relations and other people. 

I know I’ve had a fear of academic rejection (rather than rejection from my peers) and I have known for a long time, so when I’m frustrated by something that is extremely challenging to me, I shut down into tears a great majority of the time. I have extremely intense emotions all of the time due to (self-diagnosed) Neurodivergent in specifically the autistic field so it only adds to my frustrations because when I get overwhelmed and upset, it makes everything 20x worse. Usually, I am able to overcome struggling and challenges, but I don’t have an easy time doing it in a mental and physical sense. Instead of helping me learn like I know it does from the various studies shown, I instead feel exhausted from the strain and just more and more frustrated at the thing I am struggling with. It makes me want to give up and curl in a ball to try and stop the overwhelming feelings of relief that it’s finally over with, residual frustration, and anger at myself for not being able to understand it the first time. It is something that I am trying to work on, but it is incredibly hard. The results of me being reluctant to do things because I am not good at it immediately and reluctant to do things really does line up for me, even if not all of the results are accurate (I do not care about what my peers think for me for the great majority of the time, but rejection among close people is true). 

I think that with more practice I can achieve the growth mindset I am trying to achieve and capable of, but it is undoubtedly going to be much more difficult for me to reach that point with the fact that my brain does not work the same way most people’s do. I am not blaming this on me not having a growth mindset, but it is certainly one of the causing factors in being stuck in this seemingly endless loop of trying to understand and live in a world that just isn’t meant for me a great majority of the time. But, I will be doing my absolute best to achieve it so I will be able to be a better educator in the future. I believe that having a growth mindset or be willing to actively try and change your mindset into a growth mindset is incredibly important for an educator to have and I want to be the best teacher I can possibly be when I get to that point in my life.

Dear Randoma Studently,

 

Hello, this is Mx Ari. I am writing you a proper letter instead of an email, because I feel like it is more personal than a simple email. You came to me yesterday (when you are reading this, I am writing this the same day) talking about how you were struggling with being able to learn the coursework on top of your other classes. I want to write you a letter talking about how struggling is completely natural, despite how presumptuous this may seem. 

Like I stated before, Struggling is a completely natural process to grow your brain. We learn best after failing and picking ourselves back up, after all. Though it may not seem like it now, I’m sure that you’ll be able to keep up and get everything done on time if you keep practicing.  I understand completely how hard it is to not be able to get everything done because of external factors, whether it be because of family or homelife, the amount of workload you’re receiving from myself and other teachers, or simply because your brain is not letting you be able to do things. I, myself, have experienced all of those and struggled to cope with them. I have what is called executive dysfunction due to low dopamine levels in my brain, which means doing  things like focusing and completing things, even if I’m interested in it; but it is so so much harder when you aren’t interested in the task. That is why I try to give primarily classwork over homework. I’ve found that being in an environment where you’re already focused and on the task makes it much easier to get it done. 

I am not insinuating that you have the same thing as I do (but if you’re interested in researching more into it, I would highly recommend it), but I am simply trying to express that I have experienced similar things and you are not alone in feeling overwhelmed and unable to do schoolwork. I doubt you are “lazy” and I think you are a very hardworking individual. This is why I suggest that you take advantage of my no-penalty late work policy and make sure you’re able to get your other class work done when you can. And if you need an extension on the one hard deadline I have, please email me and just keep me informed. 

As for some strategies to keep focused that I’ve found, there are very few that have worked for me, as many other people with executive dysfunction. But I would recommend trying different strategies until you find something that works for you. For example, if you feel like you would be able to use a planner to help you, you should invest in one and highlighters, if you instead are able to get things done with reminders in your phone, you should try that. Another strategy would be to have a friend of yours remind you and make sure you’re on task so you will be able to get it done with the fear of rejection and failure your friend instills in you. If none of these work, I suggest that you should keep trying to find new ways. Part of learning and growing is trying out new things and failing. Though it is extremely disheartening, that’s just a part of being human and growing. If we never did anything we had trouble with, we would not be where we are as a species. If most people in our species were able to think this way, we most certainly would be far further ahead than we are today.

Preventing struggles is almost impossible to be able to complete as that is what our brains need to grow, but being able to overcome it with strategies is what makes life life. For humans and animals alike. When we push through the struggle and are able to find a way to get past it or work through it, prepares us for something else similar that we could struggle with later on. So, my advice is to work through the struggles to the best of your ability and don’t be afraid to ask for help. Build the foundations of struggling and working–learning–through them when you are still learning all of the time and your brain hasn’t finished developing. It is so much easier to be able to have the foundation for these skills for when you are struggling with things that are harder to get help for. I’ll be here for you whenever you ask. 

 

I hope you have a wonderful day, and remember to just keep me informed for when you intend to turn things in. 

 

With much love, your teacher,

 

Mx. Ari

Salutations

 

My name is Ari and I need to write about myself for my blog, so here it is :,)

Some things about me:

• I write, read, and play clarinet
• I use any pronouns and am AroAce
• I draw and am not very good at it though I am trying
• I am writing a graphic novel (ironic)
• I’m in drama and enjoy making slideshows
• I sometimes make my own earrings :))
• My sense of style is immaculate
• My dream job is being an author, but I also want to be an English Teacher

Continuing that thought, the reason I wish to pursue a career in education is because I genuinely enjoy teaching and English is one of my favorite subjects. I want to be able to provide an environment where people can grow and learn without being judged because being judged by others is one of the worst feelings. Since humans are pack animals and depend on society to be healthy in the head (that’s why seclusion can be so devastating to the human mind) being judged and not being able to interact with your peers positively is truly an isolating experience and not being accepted by peers truly affects and destroys a person’s head. An example of this is the rate of suicide among transgender youth when they are accepted by their parents vs. when they are not. A direct quote from the Trevor Project website says, “Transgender Health that found acceptance of one’s gender identity from adults and peers was associated with significantly lower odds of attempting suicide among transgender and nonbinary youth”. The writer, Josh Weaver, continues to describe how 8,000 transgender and nonbinary youth study from across the United States were asked to take part of this sample and this is what they concluded. Another direct quote from one of the doctors (Dr. Myeshia Price) at the Trevor Project foundation states; “The findings of this study are clear: transgender and nonbinary young people who feel accepted by the people in their lives, are less likely to attempt suicide,”. Key findings from the article, ” “Association of Gender Identity Acceptance with Fewer Suicide Attempts among Transgender and Nonbinary Youth,” that was referenced in the article by the Trevor Project tells the reader that, “Transgender youth with acceptance from at least one adult had 39% lower odds of attempting suicide in the past year compared with their transgender peers who were not accepted”. In conclusion to this point, I believe that providing people (and especially youths) with a safe space to just exist in with no question of whether or not they will be accepted is incredibly important and I want to be someone who provides that if I can.

 

Something I am passionate about is my writing. As you can see on this page, I took a creative writing class before and posted my writings on here as well as an attempted other sites but they did not publish my submission (unfortunately). As you have seem before, I am writing a graphic novel and, while I don’t have the story fully mapped out yet, I am working on it when I have the time. Drawing and writing are something I love and I absolutely can’t wait until I can put my characters and ideas to the page once I fully get the loose version of the story written out. I refuse to have bad writing in my trilogy whatsoever.

 

 

 

Sources: (APA formatting does not work on a blog post, so please live with me TvT)

Weaver, B. Y. J., & Weaver, J. (2021, November 3). Acceptance of transgender and nonbinary youth from adults and peers associated with significantly lower rates of attempting suicide. TheTrevor Project. Retrieved January 17, 2023, from https://www.thetrevorproject.org/blog/acceptance-of-transgender-and-nonbinary-youth-from-adults-and-peers-associated-with-significantly-lower-rates-of-attempting-suicide/ 

Price, M. N., & Green, A. E. (2021, November 1). Association of Gender Identity Acceptance with fewer suicide attempts … Mary Ann Liebert, Inc. Retrieved January 17, 2023, from https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/trgh.2021.0079

Our story starts with a seemingly normal day in March. 

 

It just so happens, on this blissfully normal day in March, the Queen of an ancient kingdom gave birth to the first–and only–heir to her and her husband’s kingdom. What made this day peculiar after all of the usual normalcy of the quiet spring, was the child herself. The Princess seemed to be perfectly healthy (which was a relief since both of the royals were in their elderly years) but she was different. It seemed like there had to be a curse set on the Queen or the King, or just the royal family, but there was none that anyone in the court could remember. But there she was, their daughter born with thin leathery wings, bright red scales, and tiny little claws. It was obviously the King’s Daughter as well (‘She has your eyes, sire!’ one of the midwives had said; ‘And look at that face shape, definitely akin to yours, Your Majesty!’ another had butted in while helping clean up the room from the mess of a long and complicated delivery), so it wasn’t like the Queen could have had an affair, and she wouldn’t have anyway. They had married for love, after all, and still spent great amounts of time together despite their busy schedules. 

So what could have possibly happened to cause the Princess to turn out this way? No one knew. The King immediately sent for all of the curse breakers in the land to try and cure their darling baby before the curse completely sunk its claws into her. But no one knew what was happening or how to break it. So, they learned to live with her curse. They loved their girl after all, and she acted like a completely normal baby–despite the circumstances–so what should they do other than treat her with all of the love they held for her? 

They loved her without expectation and absolutely cherished their daughter–even when she was fussy or would cry at the smallest of things, as she was a very small clumsy little girl growing up. You could chalk up her clumsiness to the large wings on the back of her body and no other sort of dragon representation to learn to walk properly. The King could never even think of denying how proud he was of the Princess, whether it was when she clapped her hands for the first time or was running around like a chicken without a head. When she had flown across the room for the first time at three years old, he had cried joyful tears despite being in front of his court. He remembered that as one of the happiest moments of his life. Of course, there were ups and downs–the Princess was still a child, after all, and she had her deal of tantrums and fights with her parents–but they all loved one another as much as they loved their kingdom. Even though the Princess was not keen on the countless lessons she had to attend (especially the ones on how to act with proper manners and how to rule the kingdom) when she would much, much, rather be playing in the garden or curled up and reading a book in the firelight of the hearth in the castle library–the flickering light showed off her scales so prettily and she reveled in the comfort and heat fire provided to her–she understood, to a basic level, that learning was important in the role she would grow to be. She was the sole heir of her kingdom after all; she had to do well, or else she would never be able to do anything good for the people she loved so well. 

All in all, the little Princess had a very happy life. She loved everything about it, from her friends with the servant children and maids to being able to sleep with soft blankets and pillows. But despite being such a pleasant little girl, she still had a streak of mischief, and there were plenty of other children for her to play with–and play with them she did. They played many make-believe games, and she never minded being the villain (she was the one with the best evil laugh, when it came down to it). They would play elaborate pranks (and by the standards of small children, that meant sneaking into the kitchen and playing with flour or stealing pastries meant for other noble families visiting the Princess’ parents). Which they got in trouble for, of course. The punishments were never bad, but standing while holding thick books over your head was never fun for any of the children involved. The Princess, however, never stopped with her mischief streak for well into her adult years. It simply changed over time, as many things do. 

Despite people being afraid of the Princess when they met her, she never let it get her down; she knew she had to work extra hard to get people to like her. Most of the time it wasn’t an issue. Even though she could be very headstrong and brash, the Princess was a kind girl and minded her manners most of the time. Of course, she had a few mishaps in her meetings with other nobles, who were dreadfully boring. Was it really her fault that she accidentally lit the table on fire when across from her the son of a noble was making faces at her? He was asking for it. But her welcoming personality and brave streak almost always drew people around her. She was a bright child, and was as sweet as could be for a girl that grew up with a few too many sweets for her own good; what parent doesn’t spoil their kids just a little when they are able to? Especially when hers were so loving and had great means to be able to spoil her.

She slowly grew into her form from the little dragon that could actually fit into clothes if she tried hard enough to a gangly teenager that refused to wear them altogether. How could she possibly help it when they felt so tight and unnatural against her scales? And who would want to hide them in the first place? They were prettier than any other gown at the time; they sparkled like rubies in the sunlight and were as hard as steel. The ones she shed and preened out of her coat were beautiful accessories as well, but she did not give them out if she could help it. She only gave them to the closest people to her as a display of trust. When she had first explained the concept of it being a sign of love and trust (she had read it in a book on a study of dragons with an interview of one of the ancient dragons of their time) to her parents as well as presenting both of them one that she had personally polished and carved little designs in, they all had a cry together–wish for anyone she didn’t care about deeply to have one. She was such a happy girl and it would stay that way into her teenage years–up until the attacks started.

When The Princess turned 14, she was brought to a castle out in the country during the summers. It was a tradition for royals in her lineage to do so, in order to be able to focus more on their studies and practices. It was also believed that time away from the sometimes-suffocating hold of the parents was healthy for any child. Of course, she still had staff in the castle to keep her company, but there were hardly any people her age to talk to or spend time with. This was to keep her focused in the important time for brain development of any creature.

The only people she would really get to talk to were other royal families that were invited for a few weeks in the castle. It was to practice the Princess’ skills in hosting guests as well as a friendly invitation to keep good relations with their neighboring kingdoms and people of power. It was on one of these visits that her life changed for the better. 

It was a day in May that was rainy despite the warmth surrounding the land. The Princess had been preparing to meet a royal family that her parents had just made an alliance with. She was to welcome them to a couple weeks vacation. It was after the first slightly awkward dinner full of polite smalltalk and even more awkward looks. The Princess could see that the royal family was uncomfortable with her and assured them several times over their meeting that they would not see each other much during their stay. She was extremely busy, first and foremost, and didn’t want to take away from their own explorations of the neighboring towns or the small castle and its grounds. It was usually much better to do so when it isn’t raining, but she didn’t judge other people’s actions.

She didn’t get to see the princess of the neighboring kingdom because she was feeling ill before dinner started. That dampened her mood a little bit, but she didn’t let it bother her. This trip was to make the other family comfortable with their kingdom and with the future ruler of said kingdom; it most certainly was not about her talking to people who felt uncomfortable around her. So when she saw a strange person in the gardens under a gazebo, she was shocked to see that it was the Other Princess. It was her intention to be able to visit when the visiting family wasn’t there in order to enjoy it for herself, and the girl there did not seem to be any of the small staff at the castle. The Princess hesitated for a long moment before she strengthened her stride to the gazebo and got out of the rain that was quickly picking up. She smiled at the girl and introduced herself with a low bow. The girl hesitated before she dipped her head in the direction of the Princess before she simply continued to look out at the rain. 

The Princess tried to ease the uncomfortable silence with some respectful small talk to the girl. What she got in return was short answers and no responding conversation. Once the Princess fell silent herself, she was already making plans to amend her mistake when the girl spoke up.

‘Do you think that humans or squid came first?’ 

The Princess was shocked into silence for a few moments. She stared at the girl before promptly looking away and out into the scenery. 

‘I think squids did. Humans are more complicated, so it would make sense for them to come after.’ She didn’t look at the Other Princess to see her reaction and continued to look out at the rain. It caused the ground to shimmer and the plants to drip beautifully. 

‘Most people respond with humans.’ The Other Princess remarked, sounding sort of smug with an underlying tone that the Princess couldn’t describe. 

‘If you haven’t noticed, I am not like other people.’ The Princess replied with a small laugh. She was not even a “people” as most would describe her.

 She finally looked back at the other princess to find her looking directly back. She grinned in response as the Other Princess sighed and looked away again. 

‘Of course a dragon would understand better than a human.’ That comment made the Princess bristle as she sat up slightly straighter and hardened her face. People didn’t usually remark on her being different right away, especially those of social standing who are trying to keep an alliance. 

‘Not that it’s a bad thing. I like it. I don’t like people,’ the Other Princess continued, seeming to sense her companion’s discomfort with the word.

‘Surprisingly, that does not make me feel better.’ The Princess said with a tight smile and sharp words. She had relaxed a little, but she was in a position that she had never been in before. She was the one who usually made people uncomfortable with just her presence. 

‘Sounds bad for you,’ the Other Princess said, looking back to meet her gaze. ‘But I usually don’t care about people’s emotions. They’re fickle things that don’t matter in the long run.’ 

‘Well, why say anything then?’

‘What?’

‘Why say anything when you know it is going to offend people? Or not people as I am being described as?’

‘To weed out the ones who are pleasant only out of need and not by person. People who yell as soon as they’re questioned are not the sort I wish to be around.’

‘I see… and that doesn’t seem flawed to you?’

‘Who are you? One of the people my parents hired to help me “open up”?’

‘Are they usually dragons that walk out in the beginning of a thunderstorm?’

‘Nope.’

‘Then I guess I’m not someone your parents hired.’

‘I guess not.’

‘…’

‘…’

‘Do your parents often try to expose you to other people?’

‘Don’t yours?’

‘No, I have been told I’m a bit of a “social butterfly”.’

‘Huh, do you think some of that will rub off on me?’

‘I don’t think it works like that, unfortunately, Princess.’

‘Sad, isn’t it. I guess I can’t be normal.’

‘That isn’t a bad thing. Societal standards are not always the best.’

‘I guess you’re right. But pointers wouldn’t hurt.’

‘Pointers?’

‘Yes, you should give me pointers on how you are able to be a social butterfly. Make small talk during dances and such.’

‘Okay.’

‘What?’

‘I can do that for you, it would be my Pleasure.’ The Princess said as she stood up and walked over to the other, bowing and holding out her clawed hand. She had a good foot on the Other Princess, but that didn’t bother her. The Other Princess cautiously took the Princess’ hand and stood up as the Princess kissed it before standing up to full height. 

‘You know how to waltz. Correct?’

‘I’m a princess.’

‘Just checking.’ The Princess’ voice was lighthearted and cheeky as she started to dance along to a silent waltz, taking the lead in favor of following; she had started the dance, after all. They stayed quiet for a long few minutes before the Other Princess spoke up. 

‘I don’t feel woo-d yet. Or anytype of social wisdom sinking in.’ She said sarcastically as she looked up at the Princess, craning her neck. 

‘How unfortunate, that was not my intention.’ The Princess was smiling and suppressing laughter at the Other Princess’ face. ‘Well, what would you like to talk about?’

‘I thought you were a natural at this.’ The other said with a scowl that made the Princess break and pause to laugh, causing the Other Princess to scowl more. 

‘You’re bad at this social thing.’ 

‘We don’t have to dance here.’

‘Where else would we dance?’ the Other Princess asked as the Princess pulled her out of the protection of the gazebo and into the rain.

‘We have an entire garden, Princess!’ The Princess exclaimed joyfully with a wide grin. ‘It’s a waste to be in such a small place!’

‘Maybe small for you.” The Other Princess grumbled but started to dance along with the Princess again. It was a silent but quick paced dance that led to them both tumbling inside full of giggles after their skin grew numb from the cold (well, the skin of the human princess, the Princess was still warm as a fireplace, something that extended their time outside to a much greater degree then possible for two humans). The Princess asked one of the maids to make them a pot of hot chocolate as well as bring the Other Princess a change of dry clothes as she dragged her to the library. 

It was wall to wall with books and a large fireplace in the center, surrounded by plush furniture. The Princess started a fire as the other left to change in one of the nearby bathrooms. When the Other Princess returned, the fire was high and the Princess was bringing over some blankets from a chest. She handed one to her companion and set the rest of them down on a couch. The night ended with them talking and eventually falling asleep next to each other in the library. 

They grew closer and closer until the day the Other Princess was forced to leave with her family. She promised to write letters and visit whenever she could, but they were both incredibly sad when they were forced to part with one another. 

They didn’t get to see each other until the following summer despite many letters and gifts sent between them. They were both agonized by the distance, but managed to keep themselves sane and busy. The Princess did so by throwing herself into her studies and tending flowers by her window. Even through the cold and harsh winters she was able to keep the flowers (and various other plants) alive in her room, away from the beautiful death of the snowfall. The Other Princess kept to herself and stayed in her usual life the way she always did. She was not the heir to the throne once her baby brother was born, so she was able to spend more time doing things she enjoyed rather than studying and lessons day in and out like the Princess did.

By the time they got to meet each other again, the Princess had taken to wearing flowers braided into her hair (if you could call it hair–it resembled a mane on a horse rather than human hair, but less coarse). She did the majority of it by herself, but she did receive help from her handmaidens from time to time. They reunited for another summer happily and agreed it was much less awkward than when the Other Princess’ parents were hovering over them in the castle. 

That summer went off without a hitch.The two of them were able to spend time together and officially start a long courtship process with official dates and gifts bestowed on each family by the other one. Both of the Princesses’ parents were very happy for the arrangement–The dragon’s for finding love at such a young age and the human’s for marrying royalty and into further nobility. It was a fun summer and they were able to grow closer and closer to each other then possible with only being able to write letters that wouldn’t get read for several weeks.

 The summer passed by all too quickly, then the next, and the next, with only a few interruptions. It wasn’t until the summer of the seventeenth year of the Princess’ life that things got more serious. Warriors and soldiers were coming almost every week from other kingdoms to ‘slay the beast’ and ‘save the fair maiden,’ whatever that was about. The first time it had happened was a surprise to everyone in the small castle and the countryside. It was a warm day and everyone was relaxing in the sun per the Princess’ request. She wanted to have everyone be able to enjoy the sun with her and gave them the day off. When the Warrior burst into the palace, she was with her handmaids and the Other Princess, doing some personal care for one another. She was in the middle of applying a homemade mud mask to one of them and abruptly stopped and looked up in shock. She was not expecting anyone to burst in, and she did not recognize the man. When the others with her did not recognize him either, she started to ask questions. 

‘Who are you? Why are you here?’ She asked, setting the bowl aside so she could have her hands free. 

‘I am here to slay you and release all those you hold captive!’ The Warrior exclaimed, as he drew his sword and raised it towards the Princess. He lowered it in shock when all of the handmaidens and maids around him started to giggle amongst themselves. The Princess sighed at the proclamation and stayed sitting on her bed.

‘There is nothing to be slain, I don’t know what you heard, Sir, but I-’

Enough of your talking, fiend! I will not stand for you using your silver tongue to entice me! Speak no further and we shall battle!” the Warrior spat as he glared at the Princess.

‘No.’ she said simply and glared at the Warrior. ‘Please leave the premises before I have to ask my guards to escort you on their day off.’ 

‘Day off??? What is this madness you speak of, evil beast!’ the Warrior demanded an answer as he raised his sword again towards the Princess. He was so focused on the disapproving look on the dragon’s face that he was almost knocked over when the door opened from behind him, the Other Princess walking in with a plate of cookies and some fruit. She looked puzzled upon seeing the Warrior and looked around at all of the other girls either gawking or giggling behind their hands at him. 

‘What did I miss?’ she asked, still holding the food as she closed the door with her foot and took a step back.

‘Fair Maiden!’ the Warrior exclaimed in return, not taking his eyes off of the Princess. ‘I am here to protect and save you from this beast!’ 

‘I don’t need saving. This isn’t my castle,’ the Other Princess stated simply as she moved in a wide radius to the Warrior so she could stand uninterrupted next to her betrothed. ‘Who would I even need saving from in the first place?’

‘The beast you are currently standing next to! Are you blind?! Are you under some sort of spell?!’ The Princess rubbed her temples and sighed. 

‘This early in the year? I would have thought them to have been done by now.’ She grumbled as the Other Princess rolled her eyes and set the food down on the bed. 

‘As fun as this is, you should leave before you get punched in your face,’ The princess who was human said while she crossed her arms over her chest. She did not look amused and looked like she was the one who was going to do the aforementioned punching. 

‘I will not leave until all of you are safe from the beast!’ The Warrior, of course, did not pick up on this look and seemed to be stuck in his head of what is right and wrong, as most warriors of the time period did.

‘Then this is news for you, good sir, I don’t need saving. No one here needs saving. You should just leave before I stuff a pillow down your throat.’ The Other Princess snarled, to have the dragon place a hand on her shoulder. 

‘It’s fine, you do not need to resort to violence,’ the Princess said calmly, ever the peace-maker and diplomat when she could be.

‘Shut up! You aren’t a part of this,’ the Other Princess retorted as she continued to stare daggers at the shocked Warrior in front of her. 

‘That is no way for a lady to speak! Are you the one casting a spell? To make yourself look like a proper lady when you are a blithering old hag?’ The Other Princess looked like she was going to actually assault the man when the Princess stood up and stopped her. 

‘Why don’t we have tea? you look like you’re extremely weary,’ she said pleasantly as she looked at her handmaidens who were already getting up to prepare it. ‘You all stay here, this will be done in only a few minutes, please continue what you were doing,’ she continued before she simply walked past the Warrior and made her way out of her bedroom. The Warrior was too stunned to speak, less move, and had to be pushed by the Other Princess to even seem to wrap it around his head. He was quickly shut up and angrily led to the small sitting room where the Princess had already prepared tea and some biscuits. She invited the Warrior to sit down and they had a very long conversation that the Warrior was far too dazed to really take a part of. Once they were done, he left with a few extra biscuits. 

A very similar process happened repeatedly that summer, to the point where the Princess made a sign and put it at the front for people to stop walking in at impossible hours. No one ever paid attention to it, of course, but it was the thought that counted. 

On the day of the Princess’ eighteenth birthday was when she proposed to the other Princess with a ring and one of her scales elegantly carved and strung on a cord. Of course the Other Princess said yes. They were planning the wedding in the spring of four years in the future when the King and Queen announced that they would be stepping down from the throne. It was just two years later when they announced it; they were old and tired of ruling and thought that the twenty year old princess was ready for it all on her own. She hesitantly agreed with the promised support and guidance from them and her fiancee. With the overtaking of the throne, the wedding between the two Princesses was placed on hold in return for the added stress of ruling the kingdom as a twenty year old Dragon. The Princess was not fully ready to take over, but it wasn’t like she had a choice. Her parents were getting old and if she wasn’t ready soon she would have to start her rule when her parents died instead of with their guidance. The dragon’s fiancee was as supportive as she could be despite the stress causing the Princess to freak out sometimes and start small arguments. It kept happening and happening until the Princess’ Fiancee stopped her in the middle of a stressful spiel. 

‘Love, stop.’ she said, rubbing her temples. The Princess immediately did what her partner asked of her, but she did not look happy. In fact, she looked confused. 

‘You were going to cause an argument because you’re stressed planning a wedding and getting prepared to take over your parent’s kingdom.’ she continued as she gently placed a hand on the Princess’ shoulder and moved closer to her. 

‘That’s enough work today, okay. Let’s go back to bed.’ The Princess’ Fiancee’s tone was not that of a question as she basically demanded the Princess to stop working, even if just for the night. She started to pull her towards the bed when the Princess suddenly stopped

“I… but, Darling, I need to finish this. These reports are important and then once I finish I can work on our wedding finally without it being interrupted by more work.’ she protested as her fiancee stopped and looked back, placing her hands on her hips. 

‘Love, if you do not go to bed this instant, you aren’t going to be able to plan a wedding because you make horrible decisions when you are incredibly tired. And I have the right to veto everything you do for our wedding that is happening in four years.’ the human was done putting up with her fiancee and was ready to deck her if that meant she would finally get some sleep.

Instead of getting mad or upset, the Princess simply laughed softly, ‘Fine, fine, my love. You know best.’ the human relaxed at her dragon partner’s words and gently took her hand instead of harshly grabbing her arm. ‘But,’ the Princess continued, grinning to herself, ‘Does this mean you don’t want to dance with me tonight? Not even a little bit?’ 

‘Oh my gosh, no, Love. Go to bed.’ they were both laughing now as the Princess slowly undid her hair and her partner watched from under the covers. They cuddled close to one another and quickly fell asleep.

 

Even though it took much longer than either of them had wanted it to, they both were wed soon enough. The day it happened was a beautiful day in Summer that was as warm as they were hoping for when the two, a human princess and a dragon queen, originally planned it. They were both so blissfully happy and couldn’t believe anything that was happening to them. It was surreal but ever so good and happy. The Queen was now able to relax just a little bit more when she was with her beautiful bride and the Queen Consort, the previous human princess, was just happy to finally be able to fully separate from her parent’s control. 

They ended up not having a honeymoon and had more of just a break from working for a while. But they were both more than happy because Life was busy and wonderful for the both of them. Even as the Queen Consort got older and older, until her hair had strands of gray and she could not dance for as nearly as long as she used to, they still loved each other unconditionally. 

When the two of them were in their forties they decided to adopt a child to take the throne after them. The Little Prince was adopted by the Queen and the Queen Consort because they had found out that the latter was not able to conceive and the Queen was not willing to carry the child. He was welcomed into the family nonetheless and was also loved as he grew up a kind and thoughtful young man. The years were getting to the Queen Consort and it just wasn’t for her dragon partner. There were more silences between them now to avoid talking about something they knew was coming. Even if it was for just a bit longer. Neither of them wanted to admit that they weren’t going to be able to both spend the rest of their days together. 

As the Little Prince grew from a small child to a young man, and then an adult, the Queen Consort caught an illness that forced her to stay on bedrest with very limited motion or movement allowed. Everyone was devastated for the state of the The Queen Consort, and none less than the Queen herself. She was doing her absolute best to keep it together and refused to take it out on anyone or the kingdom, but she was not perfect and was going through the possible death of her beloved wife and life partner. Despite this, she was still as pleasant as she could be. She was still as attentive as a mother and a partner, and still a wonderful Queen for the kingdom.

For a while, things got better. The Queen Consort was able to get up again and move around. She could even walk around the gardens with the Little Prince and her wife, the Queen, for an hour or so before she had to go back to bed. At the news that she was getting better, everyone was overjoyed and celebrated. All of the kingdom’s citizens loved both the queens and were all devastated to hear the news that the human could die soon; so when there was large news that she was getting better, celebrating was the only proper way to react. There was a large party once it was announced that the Queen Consort would be able to walk whenever she wanted and be able to resume her visits to the central city as long as she took frequent breaks. Everyone was overjoyed, but not as much as the Prince and the Queen herself. 

Soon the years had gone by and the Prince was close to his twentieth birthday. The queens and their son had talked about it at length and the Little Prince  decided that he wanted to learn more about ruling before he became King of the land. He didn’t want to make mistakes that the Queen had made early in her rule that cost the kingdom. The Queen agreed and they made a plant to wait until the Prince’s 30th birthday before they spoke of it again. 

The Queen and her wife danced as often as they could. They were almost always silent and it was always very slow, but in the moonlight neither of them cared. They loved their dances and they loved each other more than either of them could describe. The dances were getting shorter and shorter over the years, but the Queen didn’t care. As long as she had her beloved bride, she didn’t care how much time they spent together. They were inarguably in love and happy with one another. Not one person in the kingdom–as far as anyone knew–disagreed that fact. You could see it in the way the queens moved and looked at each other; they seemed to be in sync and it was impossible to tear them apart. They had their own activities, of course, but they would share things they did with each other and take great joy in doing so. 

The years continued to speed by at what seemed all too fast. Soon enough, the Prince married at age 29 to such a lovely girl that he met while riding one day. Then three years later,

he was 32 and, with guidance from his mothers, took over the throne and married his wife. He was eager and happy with his new partner. The kingdom was joyous and there was little hardship in this perfect Golden Age of prosperity.

Unfortunately, it had to come to an end all too soon. 

The queens had danced for hours one night (something they were not able to do for such a long time), twirling and swaying together late into the night. When the Queen finally coaxed her bride into bed to sleep, she was peaceful. She was happy. It had been a good day for both of them despite the Queen Consort’s condition. She was getting old and the Queen knew it was going to be soon, but when it finally came… She couldn’t handle it. 

She had woken up that morning to a cold body curled up beside her. A cold body with a smile still on her beautiful wrinkled face. A cry of anguish and pure raw pain tore through the castle, waking everyone up as the Queen scooped up the body of her true love and cradled her to her chest. She couldn’t stop as her son burst into the room; couldn’t be strong as the cold dead body of the most important person in her life was motionless, still, and pale. 

Never again would she ever hear her laughter, see her smirk when she got her way or when she was proud of herself, never see the caring look whenever she looked upon the Queen or the Little Prince (now King). Never would she get to hold her hand, whisper ‘I love you’ to each other in the dead of night with only the stars to witness, never sneak a kiss and see her beautiful face flush.

She would never get to hold or see their grandchildren. Never get to look upon the stars or see another meteor shower. Never get to have another flower crown placed upon her head in place of the diadem she normally wore. 

She would never get to dance in the pale moonlight ever again. Neither of them would. 

 

The funeral was only a few days later, but they seemed to both go by in a flash and drag on painfully slowly. The Queen Mother and the King were silent. The Former Queen was trying so hard to be there for her son, to be strong and be the rock for him. He just lost one of his parents at such an early point of his reign. She tried so hard, but she was not able to hold back her own tears, her sobs. She wanted to reach out to the stars and beg them for another chance to be with her again. Just one last time to see her, but she knew if her request was ever granted she would never let go.

 

After the Queen Consort was buried, her son joined her sixty years later. Then her grandchildren, her great grandchildren and everyone past that. She disappeared suddenly after her great great great great great grandchildren were born and no one has ever seen her again. 

 

~~~

 

‘There you have it, the story you were hoping for. Was it all you expected it to be?’

‘It ends like that?’

‘Yes.’

‘I thought stories were supposed to have happy endings.’

‘Very rarely are any of the endings ever truly happy. You just get to close the book before you see the sad bits.’

‘…She was you, wasn’t she?’

‘Whoever do you mean, youngling?’

‘The Princess.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘You’re a dragon.’

‘Not all dragons are the same, child.’

‘I know but-’

‘You should get home, finish your tea and I will lead you to the trail.’

‘Can I come back tomorrow?’

‘Whatever for?’

‘For another story/’

‘That was the only one I know.’

‘How about I tell you one tomorrow!’

‘That sounds nice. Thank you.’

When the Sorceress heard that she would be overthrown one day by a child in a no name village, she did not react violently.. She did not kill the messenger, nor strike down the divinder who had the premonition of a little brat ruining everything, no. She knew far too well that doing any of those things would just seal her fate as “Evil Enchantress” (despite the fact that she is not an Enchantress or a witch). Instead, she calmly called the head of her guard and planned a siege of the village. If she was going to have someone overthrow her, it was going to be in her control, not some brat who is a “Savior of the people”. Thinking those words only made her want to vomit. How could someone come and ruin her beautiful world and all of her effort to clear the world of horrible rulers? And how was she the heartless one for not wanting it to be ruined? 

So here she was, standing in front of a burning village; fire always made her happy, the smell, the sound of the cracking wood and the screams of people not yet dead. She was waiting for her minions to come back with what they came for. Soon enough, she was in front of five children of varying ages. They were screaming and crying in the soldier’s arms, all except for one. A small baby with bright green eyes, staring out at the fire with delight and giggles.  She was even reaching out to touch the burning cleanse, enamored by it and its power. The Sorceress drew closer to her, hooking her umbrella on her arm to take the small child from the silent soldier. 

She made the small girl look at her directly in the eyes–something that made hardened warriors shake and fall to their knees to beg for mercy–and she giggled. She didn’t look away or start crying, she just squealed with delight and reached out to touch the wixen’s face. She looked beyond happy despite her family being dead and four other crying children behind her. 

The Sorceress was confused, but continued to examine the small child until something caught her eye. A bright pink streak in the little hair she had, as well as a small mark on the side of her head; a symbol reserved only for those blessed by Lady Magic herself. 

She immediately waved the other children away to be killed as she cradled the small girl in her arms. She was sure that this girl was the one destined to overthrow her, so she simply would care for her herself and grow her up to be a proper ruler of the kingdom and keep the idiot people from ruining everything she worked so hard to build by putting awful thoughts in the darling little baby’s head.

As the other children were led away, still screaming and crying, The Sorceress simply held the happy girl. She summoned a small ball of magic to her hand and showed the girl her first glimpse of the very thing she would learn to harness and use to rule in her adopted role. It lit up the baby’s face as well as the Sorceress’, revealing the bright purple streak in her own black hair that was previously hidden in the dim light of the fire.

The distant screams of the lost innocent lives finally faded out as every single one of them perished in the fire or the wixen’s soldiers. The Sorceress would make sure that she would have guards continue to check the surrounding area for any survivors and keep an eye on the land so there was absolutely no chance of another child trying to overthrow her and ruin her and her child’s life. 

As she cradled the baby in one arm, she pulled her umbrella off of the other and pointed it at the sky, watching as a purple stream of light shot out, visible to everyone miles away if they were even away. She cooed at the squealing child as she stepped into the light, letting her look forward as both of the chosen walk into the next step of their lives.

“Welcome home, Meteora.” 

 

Into the Dark

A Short Story by Ari Hensley

You wake up. 

It’s pitch black and you don’t know why you woke up, other than the mildly unsettling feeling running up and down your spine. You can hear some groaning and rumbling noises, but your house is old, and old houses make lots of noise. 

Instead of waking up and getting some tap water to clear the dust settling in your throat like you normally would, you just lay back down. After all, you have a new baby brother in the house and he is such a light sleeper. Your dads need their sleep too. 

As you settle back into the bed, closing your eyes and concentrating your breathing into a measured manner (in for four, hold for seven, out for eight), you hear some scratching noises underneath your bed. You groan, turning around and beckoning your cat to join you on your bed instead of sleeping underneath. 

Instead of a soft chirp from your black cat, you instead hear silence, only broken by the wind out–

  BANG!

You shoot straight up in bed. That isn’t a house noise, no, not at all. 

As you look around, straining your ears to catch where the noise came from, it sounds out again–

BANG!!

It’s louder this time, and coming from your closet. You wonder if things are falling because of the sheer amount of stuff inside of it. 

You slowly slide out of the warmth and comfort of your soft bed with the quilt your grandmother made to welcome you home from the hospital, bunching it at the foot of your bed to make room to get up. You shudder as the cold air hits your skin and feel goosebumps run up and down your arms. 

As you walk towards the closet, the world darkens around you; the nightlight must have gone out, but that doesn’t make any sense. You just put a new bulb in the other night. How could it have gone out already? The lack of light makes your chest swell up with dread. 

You hate the dark.

You reach the closet door in darkness, only now noticing that the only light is some red spilling out from underneath the doors. Did you leave the LEDs on in the little nook between all of the crap in there? You hardly ever had them on red, as you hate the color. 

As you reach for the door, it opens all on its own. The things you had stuffed in there fall all around you as you stand there, blocking your head from the debris crashing to the floor. You curse to yourself–you could have woken up your brother and now you need to clean all over again! 

You start looking for the cause of the noise when your cat runs out and starts to rub against your legs, purring softly and glad to be let out of the stuffed closet. You pick it up, scolding them softly, when you hear the scratching noise from under the bed again. You stop dead in your tracks and stare at the space under your mattress; it was covered by your blankets and you couldn’t see under it, but there was definitely something scratching up, and it wasn’t your cat. No, he was safely in your arms, his hair sticking up as he growled at the duvet. 

You feel your feet move towards the bed again, unable to stop them as your curiosity runs over your fear of whatever could be moving underneath your bed. It moves out, and stares up at you. It flashes a grin of spikey machinery as the teddy bear clicks a picture of you with its innards. It rushes forward and grabs your ankle tightly with its claws. They sink into your soft skin easily. It latches on as the voicebox, now distorted with water damage, plays automatically; “Ỉ̴̭̾͠’̷̭̼̗̽m̵̡̜̓̍̕ ̶̫̠̑͆͝y̶̢̢̾͝͝o̶̜͓͘͝ú̶͕̘͘ŗ̷͎̃̈ ̶̝̤̔̅̈́f̶̪̓r̴̡̬̙͆͊i̴͙̒͝e̸̙͓̞͂n̴̞̍ḑ̵̟͊̽̀~̵͙̞̟̕” It just latches on harder the more you try to kick it off. “ ̶̹̟̈́̑C̷̜̎ͅo̸̗̩͙̅̀m̸͓̰̗̉͂̂e̴̦͍̟͛͗ ̷̯̽p̸̣͔͖̚ĺ̴̤͍͝ͅa̷̦̒y̵̢̗̪̋̐ ̵͖̈́͝w̸̲̱̻̿̊͌í̷̟̖̝͂́ẗ̶̰́ḫ̶̬͆̽͂ ̷͉̎̃m̸̬̙̻̋e̴̢̘͂~̴̨͔̲̓͑͆” it continues as it bites you, the voice box still going as your blood stains the metal and the fabric of the toy, adding to the already present stains of blood and other liquids. You hear more shutter clicks and throw your cat to the ground to use your hands and try to wrestle it off of you. You manage to grab a heavy book and beat it over the head. Screws and Springs splurt out and break off as you mercilessly destroy the bear. 

As soon as it is off of you, you rush out of the room, scooping your cat up again and locking the door behind you before you leave. All you hear after the door is closed is one last line from the fading voicebox; “Ỳ̸̥̯͒ŏ̶͚̫͉̾̅u̵͈̯͓̽͒̕’̵̡̪̼͑͛r̷̠͈̋̔̃ë̶̖̞́̐͂.̵̢̨͒͒̕.̴̱́͑͒.̸͇͓̜̋̈̍ ̸͈̇s̴̤̎̒̑a̴̹̿̽͠à̵̲͔̈́̕a̴̲̲̞̎f̸̤̎͝e̷̯̒ ̸̙͚͊̒̚ẁ̵̦́͝i̵̻̾͗t̴̰͔̀ḩ̴̟̔͒̾.̴͇̹͍͝.̸̫̙̀͆̓͜.̸͇̱̒̒̚ ̵̛̻m̸̡̫̰̓-̶̢̟̺́̌̄ṁ̸̧̨̠͘.̵͔͊̎.̵̻̿e̵̱͐̐e̴͉͉̠͋͊”

You breathe for just a moment, closing your eyes and resting your head against the door. You don’t know what’s happening or why it’s happening and you just want to go to bed again. You need to tell your parents what happened. They’ll know how to fix this. They may even make you hot chocolate like when you’ve been waking up from nightmares after you came home. 

These thoughts are interrupted by quiet mutterings that sound like they are from the kitchen. You cautiously follow the sound and peek into the kitchen, expecting to see your parents quietly talking to one another. Instead, you find her staring out the large bay window. She looked different then when you last saw her, no longer wearing orange either, but it was easily recognizable to you who she was. 

So, you cautiously approach. You are confused why she was in your parent’s house; they made it very clear that she would not be allowed to see you without your permission, and you did not want to see her in the slightest. 

Like she sensed you, her head turns completely around despite her body not moving a muscle. Her eyes are white and her skin gray like dirty dishwater. Her mumblings are getting louder and you could hear that she was talking about ungrateful children. You stare at her, determined to face her rather than be scared and hide again or run away like you always did. 

She did not like that one bit. 

Like she was struck by lightning, she suddenly appears by your side, the only hint of movement beforehand was the creak of the floorboards under her feet. She turns her body to match her head as she grabs your arm. Her nails dig into the uncovered flesh as she leans over and breathes rancid breath into your face. She’s speaking louder and louder until her quiet whispers turned into screams. She grips your face with her other hand, nails feeling once again like claws. She calls you horrid things that she always did. Despite the repetitions, however, it still hurts to hear. You open your mouth to try and respond, but the words die on your lips as they always seem to lately. You can’t bring yourself to talk anymore then you could earlier. . 

You close your mouth as her claw-like nails dig further and further into your skin. She smirks as poison drips from her mouth like the viper she is. “If I kill you right here, do you think they’ll throw me in jail again? Or do you think anyone will care at all?”

You pause with that as she starts to pull on your arm. Suddenly, your cat jumps out of your arms and starts to attack Her with a blinding fury. You are frozen to the spot for only a moment before you too jump into action. You don’t want to die, not yet.

You grab a large cheese knife from the block and knock her to the ground. She falls as your cat makes a run for it and you climb onto her back. You start stabbing before you can think of anything. Blood is rushing towards your ears, blocking everything out and keeping you from hearing anything other than her cries for mercy as she oozes black blood that burns your knees and hands like acid. You are too panicked and adrenaline-filled to be able to process this, and you only pause in your own survival instincts when she starts to sob and call herself terrible. That she never should have left you and that she is just horrible and shouldn’t be forgiven. You stop your onslaught and watch her silently. Your hands are trembling and you don’t know if you’re too scared to stop it or if you want to watch her like this. You know she’s lying; she always does this. You don’t want to be scared of her anymore. 

So you take the plunge. 

She turns to dust and the only remnants of her are the burns on your legs and arms. 

You take a moment to catch your breath. You bested her. You did it. You didn’t fail like you thought you would. 

You’re still alive. 

You get up and are tempted to throw the knife away, but keep it with you in the end. You never know what might happen or when you might need it.

So you walk away with your cat following you behind. 

 

You enter the back yard and almost fall to the cool dewey grass from the way your legs are trembling. You want to cry, but as sobs threaten to leave your throat, not a sound escapes you. 

You need to keep going.

You need to get out of here with your life, and you are going to do it. You cannot fail, no matter what. You need to wake up. 

You want to stay in the calm, cool, air for a few more minutes

Your cat brushes against your legs, chirping softly as it looks up at you with bright green eyes and a calm look. You feel some of the edge erode off of you and you pick up your cat, burying your face in its fur to just… pause.

You hear rumbling. 

You tear your head away and your cat jumps out of your arms to growl in the densest part of the fog that closed in around you. It seems to be rumbling on its own. It doesn’t sound natural. 

Soon the rumbling reveals itself for what it truly is: laughter. You are frozen to the spot as the recognition sparks in your brain. Soon, you see a dark figure of tar come towards you. It leaves behind a path of dead grass and more of the tar. It’s laughing at you.

When it speaks, it sounds like Him, but it’s distorted like the sound is coming from an underwater speaker. You can see that its mouth doesn’t move when it makes any sort of sounds. It’s stuck in a permanent smile as it stares at you with blank eyes. 

“You really think that puny jail cell could hold me?” it asks. You know it does not expect an answer. It is smarter to stay quiet around it anyhow; it can’t tear you down if it can’t get into the cracks. 

But it knows you’re scared.

You hold the venom covered knife tighter in your clenched fist. You don’t want to live in fear of something you knew would try to hurt you no matter what you ever did. When it sees this, it just laughs again. “You think that little thing can hurt me?” it taunts as it gets closer. You can see that there was nothing under the tar as it laughs and jiggles. It isn’t solid. You won’t be able to get rid of  Him like you did with his counterpart. 

You know you won’t be able to escape with the way it is moving towards you and how the fog continues to follow as it moves. You would get lost if you tried to run away, but you can’t fight it. 

You run back inside of the house, locking the door behind you to buy yourself some time. You feel like you could run for hours as you look for something that could kill it. You hear Him enter as well as you hold your breath. You have to hide, but you know he would be able to find you. He is like a bloodhound–able to find anything with the slightest hint of a scent. 

You manage to find a lighter in the junk drawer in your frantic searching. You hold it up and look towards the door for a few moments. 

Before you can act, he enters the kitchen once he manages to tear the back door off of its hinges. He grins that everlasting smile at you as he stops to a standstill, trapping you. He tilts his head slightly and you know you only have one shot at this before you get caught and are unable to escape his poisoning grasp. 

You lunge for the stove on the other side of the room close to where he is standing, hardly noticing that he is surprised that you’re not running away. You manage to turn all of the knobs to light the stove to the side so they would release gas but not light just yet. With that, you turn towards him and face him down with a scowl. You are shaking, but holding your ground yet again. This causes him to chuckle and move just a little closer.

“The kid grows a backbone, huh?” it asks rhetorically. It doesn’t expect an answer and you are not going to give it one. You hold up your knife like you could really do something with it as your cat growls at it by your feet, readying itself to charge into battle if needed. The tar tilts its head back while it has a fit of laughter at your idiocy. You continue to stare it down as it bubbles until you could smell the gas leaking into the room. When it finally stops laughing at your obvious misfortune, it turns back to you and reaches out to grab you. 

You light the lighter and dive out of the way with your cat.

The explosion that follows is loud and causes your ears to ring. You don’t have time to watch the tar scream while it dies a horrible death. You don’t want to stay and watch it, no matter how much it hurt you while you knew Him. 

You instead run out through the garage, the only place in the house where the floors are not wooden. You exit the house and scramble away, falling into the grass several yards away from the burning house. You turn back as you catch the breath you had been holding for far too long. As you stare at the flickering orange fire, breathing in the crackling and scent of a new life, you know this isn’t over. Not yet. You can not ever truly defeat the things you’ve been through, but… This was a good start.