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I wasn't sure how this happened.
That was a lie. I knew exactly how all this had happened.
It had started with me snooping around and sticking my nose where it wasn't wanted. But Kagura was so obviously the nexus of this dark, cold energy that was swirling around the city, that I had to check it out. I had followed a pack of goblins, too obsessed with their bundled up prey and their upcoming dinner -- gross -- to notice me. They weren't the smartest of creatures, but I was getting pretty good at sneaking, all things considered.
That was when I hit the castle and things got bad. The patrolling goblins were more alert than the hunting goblins, and in what felt like two seconds, I was being dragged down to the dungeons. With the promise that their lord might want a look as me as a consort.
Gulp.
It was dark and so cold when they threw me into my cell, but even before my eyes had adjusted, I could see something -- or someone -- else in the corner.
"Who's there?" I demanded, getting hurriedly and warily to my feet.
That was a lie. I knew exactly how all this had happened.
It had started with me snooping around and sticking my nose where it wasn't wanted. But Kagura was so obviously the nexus of this dark, cold energy that was swirling around the city, that I had to check it out. I had followed a pack of goblins, too obsessed with their bundled up prey and their upcoming dinner -- gross -- to notice me. They weren't the smartest of creatures, but I was getting pretty good at sneaking, all things considered.
That was when I hit the castle and things got bad. The patrolling goblins were more alert than the hunting goblins, and in what felt like two seconds, I was being dragged down to the dungeons. With the promise that their lord might want a look as me as a consort.
Gulp.
It was dark and so cold when they threw me into my cell, but even before my eyes had adjusted, I could see something -- or someone -- else in the corner.
"Who's there?" I demanded, getting hurriedly and warily to my feet.
It was almost my birthday. Which was, you know, great. I would finally be eighteen. That arbitrary age when the whole world opened up to you and you were officially an adult. Steve was planning a ridiculous, fun birthday party for me, so I was sure to grow up in style.
But I was having mixed feelings.
For one thing, of course, I wanted my family here. I had friends, so the loss of those friends back home -- short of SmallvilleGuy -- didn't hurt as much. But I always imagined turning eighteen with my family there, at least in some part. Now I was going it alone.
And then there was Jake. I didn't know where we stood now that I was reaching adult age. Everything between us was fine, but would we still live together? Did he want me to go? Did I want to go? I wasn't sure.
So instead of doing anything about it, I sat at the table, pushing my food around on my plate, not paying attention to a word Jake was saying to me.
But I was having mixed feelings.
For one thing, of course, I wanted my family here. I had friends, so the loss of those friends back home -- short of SmallvilleGuy -- didn't hurt as much. But I always imagined turning eighteen with my family there, at least in some part. Now I was going it alone.
And then there was Jake. I didn't know where we stood now that I was reaching adult age. Everything between us was fine, but would we still live together? Did he want me to go? Did I want to go? I wasn't sure.
So instead of doing anything about it, I sat at the table, pushing my food around on my plate, not paying attention to a word Jake was saying to me.
The end of the school year was approaching and with it, finals. I had been elbow deep in books all hours of the day and night, finishing up last minute projects and trying to cram for what, ultimately, didn't matter at all. This wasn't my real school. This wasn't a real diploma. But if I wanted to make it in Darrow, I supposed that I had to follow Darrow's rules.
All that being said, I was in desperate need of a break. So I texted Steve that he should come over "immediately" and sprawled myself over my bed to wait. I probably looked a complete and utter mess with my hair in a sloppy bun, dressed in baggy sweats, but I figured it was Steve. If anything, seeing me at my worst might help -- by which I meant hinder -- his crush.
My heart clenched painfully in my chest at the thought. I felt so bad about not being able to return Steve's feelings. Not right now, anyway. It wasn't fair to ask him to wait indefinitely though, so I had to do my best to be his friend and not anything more.
All that being said, I was in desperate need of a break. So I texted Steve that he should come over "immediately" and sprawled myself over my bed to wait. I probably looked a complete and utter mess with my hair in a sloppy bun, dressed in baggy sweats, but I figured it was Steve. If anything, seeing me at my worst might help -- by which I meant hinder -- his crush.
My heart clenched painfully in my chest at the thought. I felt so bad about not being able to return Steve's feelings. Not right now, anyway. It wasn't fair to ask him to wait indefinitely though, so I had to do my best to be his friend and not anything more.
I had noticed something strange going on.
I wasn't an expert or anything on Jake. Even though we lived together, we kept a respectable distance away from each other. I didn't want to know all the details of his business anymore than he wanted all the details of mine. But the past couple of days, ever since I had found him at that bar, things had been off.
He had gone out, but judging by the timing of when he left and when he came back, he hadn't been going to work. I had school, but also a pretty flexible schedule that let me out early some days. When I wanted to notice something, keep track of something, I did. And keeping track of Jake made me... well, worried.
I came home from school to find him sitting on the couch, watching TV, and I decided enough was enough. I threw my bag onto an armchair and sat myself, cross-legged and facing Jake's profile, on the couch.
"Okay," I said in a firm but demanding voice. "Spill."
I wasn't an expert or anything on Jake. Even though we lived together, we kept a respectable distance away from each other. I didn't want to know all the details of his business anymore than he wanted all the details of mine. But the past couple of days, ever since I had found him at that bar, things had been off.
He had gone out, but judging by the timing of when he left and when he came back, he hadn't been going to work. I had school, but also a pretty flexible schedule that let me out early some days. When I wanted to notice something, keep track of something, I did. And keeping track of Jake made me... well, worried.
I came home from school to find him sitting on the couch, watching TV, and I decided enough was enough. I threw my bag onto an armchair and sat myself, cross-legged and facing Jake's profile, on the couch.
"Okay," I said in a firm but demanding voice. "Spill."
I've never been very good at focusing, except when there was a story on the line. Then, nothing else mattered. But when it came to things like homework? Everything else was more important than what I was doing.
Which was probably why I made the bad choice of inviting Steve over while I pretended to do homework. I jokingly said that he should help me with chemistry, on account of his being so much older and wiser than me. But I anticipated a whole lot of talking and not a whole lot of working.
Which was perfectly fine by me. I had snacks, I had my chem book out, I had more or less cleaned up my room. I was all set up to not do work.
Hearing the bell ring, I bounded over to the door and opened it with a smile. "Hey. Come on in."
Which was probably why I made the bad choice of inviting Steve over while I pretended to do homework. I jokingly said that he should help me with chemistry, on account of his being so much older and wiser than me. But I anticipated a whole lot of talking and not a whole lot of working.
Which was perfectly fine by me. I had snacks, I had my chem book out, I had more or less cleaned up my room. I was all set up to not do work.
Hearing the bell ring, I bounded over to the door and opened it with a smile. "Hey. Come on in."
I have a sick feeling in my stomach. Like ate bad Chinese food sick to my stomach. Because Ben Beckman of all people has me cornered in an alleyway behind the malt shop.
"You gotta show me something."
"I told you I would pay," I insisted. I knew this argument would not go anywhere with Ben though. This was his m.o.: offer up a fake I.D. to a hot girl, volunteer a deep discount and then expect the exchange to be made along with a hook up. But I had underestimated him. Or myself? I thought I wouldn't be hot enough to earn this kind of attention from him, that I would just pay money. I had also thought that, were I hot enough, I could get away with a kiss or something. Apparently I wasn't quite right either way.
"That's not how this works. And you're not hot enough to get credit. Show me your tits."
This was so not what I had in mind.
I sighed, not having to play at being uncomfortable as my hands moved down to the hem of my shirt. Then I froze.
"Do you hear something?" Ben stiffened and looked to the mouth of the alleyway. Which gave me the opportunity to knee him in the balls. He was much taller than me though, and the shot wasn't clean. He stumbled back cursing but didn't fall and I booked it as fast as I could.
"You gotta show me something."
"I told you I would pay," I insisted. I knew this argument would not go anywhere with Ben though. This was his m.o.: offer up a fake I.D. to a hot girl, volunteer a deep discount and then expect the exchange to be made along with a hook up. But I had underestimated him. Or myself? I thought I wouldn't be hot enough to earn this kind of attention from him, that I would just pay money. I had also thought that, were I hot enough, I could get away with a kiss or something. Apparently I wasn't quite right either way.
"That's not how this works. And you're not hot enough to get credit. Show me your tits."
This was so not what I had in mind.
I sighed, not having to play at being uncomfortable as my hands moved down to the hem of my shirt. Then I froze.
"Do you hear something?" Ben stiffened and looked to the mouth of the alleyway. Which gave me the opportunity to knee him in the balls. He was much taller than me though, and the shot wasn't clean. He stumbled back cursing but didn't fall and I booked it as fast as I could.
stay with me, go places
2017-11-23 13:09We were having Thanksgiving dinner. It didn't matter to me that Jake was Welsh and probably couldn't care less about the founding of America. I wasn't even sure I cared all that much, considering how crappy we were to the Native Americans and how much of a farce a lot of that history was. But I needed Thanksgiving. Just like I had gone to that concert on the Fourth of July, for something homey, for something familiar, I needed a Thanksgiving to remind me of who I was. What I had lost but also what I had to be thankful for.
It was really hard to be thankful for anything in this city, considering, but I had tried. I had Jake, I had friends, I had a job. I had a roof over my head and enough money for whatever I wanted (mostly) and my health. I still had memories of home and what it meant to me. I had a lot, all things considered. I was going to take this one day -- okay, maybe a few hours of this day -- to be happy for that.
The only problem was I didn't know how to cook. Mom always managed this kind of stuff and I was regulated to the boring stuff that Lucy wasn't allowed to do because it involved sharp objects. Peeling potatoes, cutting up carrots and onions. I had no idea what even to do with a turkey. So I had cheated and bought a precooked turkey, one of the smaller ones (even though it seemed like no small turkeys existed, did they really evolve to be this fat and covered with feathers?), and then I cheated more by buying the pie, instant potatoes, easy bake biscuits and the kind of stuffing that you only needed to add water to and bake.
I did however make my own green bean casserole. That was way easier than I had expected, so I was proud of my work. After mashing up some cranberry so it wasn't that jelly-can shape, I brought the bowl and myself over to the table.
"Alright, time to say what you're grateful for. Then we can eat."
There were going to be leftovers for days.
It was really hard to be thankful for anything in this city, considering, but I had tried. I had Jake, I had friends, I had a job. I had a roof over my head and enough money for whatever I wanted (mostly) and my health. I still had memories of home and what it meant to me. I had a lot, all things considered. I was going to take this one day -- okay, maybe a few hours of this day -- to be happy for that.
The only problem was I didn't know how to cook. Mom always managed this kind of stuff and I was regulated to the boring stuff that Lucy wasn't allowed to do because it involved sharp objects. Peeling potatoes, cutting up carrots and onions. I had no idea what even to do with a turkey. So I had cheated and bought a precooked turkey, one of the smaller ones (even though it seemed like no small turkeys existed, did they really evolve to be this fat and covered with feathers?), and then I cheated more by buying the pie, instant potatoes, easy bake biscuits and the kind of stuffing that you only needed to add water to and bake.
I did however make my own green bean casserole. That was way easier than I had expected, so I was proud of my work. After mashing up some cranberry so it wasn't that jelly-can shape, I brought the bowl and myself over to the table.
"Alright, time to say what you're grateful for. Then we can eat."
There were going to be leftovers for days.
Usually I wasn't a big fan of field trips. They tended to be boring, awkward excursions that never taught us anything worthwhile and just gave people an excuse to socialize without the teacher being able to stop them. Which wouldn't have bothered me, in the past, had I had someone to socialize with, too. But when the new girl was going to be the gone girl in six months, no one really paid me much attention. That was fine by me. If only the field trips were interesting enough to distract me.
But this, this was different. I didn't have any friends in this class (yet), but I did have friends, and I could sneak peeks at my cell phone and send texts every so often. I wasn't doing a whole lot of that, however, given that this field trip was to a place called DARKLab. DARKLab. Had no one in marketing noticed this? Did the board of directors really think it was a good thing to say they controlled a dark lab? Either a whole lot of people had a very dark sense of humor or there was something going on here. I chose to investigate the latter.
Peeling off from my group was easy enough. There were too many of us for only a teacher and two parent chaperones who didn't know what they were doing with this many teenagers. I innocently slipped into a bathroom, waited for everyone to forget about me, and then headed straight for a door that said "Employees Only."
I stopped abruptly in front of the door because, of course, it was locked and, of course, it was a card key lock, not anything I could pick.
I hesitated and spun in a slow circle, wondering what alternative route I could use.
But this, this was different. I didn't have any friends in this class (yet), but I did have friends, and I could sneak peeks at my cell phone and send texts every so often. I wasn't doing a whole lot of that, however, given that this field trip was to a place called DARKLab. DARKLab. Had no one in marketing noticed this? Did the board of directors really think it was a good thing to say they controlled a dark lab? Either a whole lot of people had a very dark sense of humor or there was something going on here. I chose to investigate the latter.
Peeling off from my group was easy enough. There were too many of us for only a teacher and two parent chaperones who didn't know what they were doing with this many teenagers. I innocently slipped into a bathroom, waited for everyone to forget about me, and then headed straight for a door that said "Employees Only."
I stopped abruptly in front of the door because, of course, it was locked and, of course, it was a card key lock, not anything I could pick.
I hesitated and spun in a slow circle, wondering what alternative route I could use.
In defense of me, this wasn't really my fault.
I had been minding my own business entirely when I saw the kid steal the old lady's purse. It was gross in how basic and immoral it was, just shoving her aside and yanking the purse right off her arm. She was well dressed, clearly rich, but frail and holding tight to one of those yappy lap dogs so she couldn't fight back. Someone had to fight back for her.
So I ran after the boy. I had no choice.
He was far faster than I thought any ten year old kid should be, but thanks to his bright orange hair, I saw him duck into what turned out to be a seedy looking bar from a block away. Kids should not be in bars and no one should be in a bar that looked this dark even in bright afternoon sun. So I went in through the back door, which had been left open to take in a delivery, and made my way stealthily to the main room. There was only one guy inventorying things in the back, so that had been pretty easy, too.
The fact that this was a gang den was completely unknown to me, so the fact that I had wandered into a gang den shouldn't be held against me. I was ignorant as to what was going on. But when I saw tiny bags of white powder being passed around, I knew I had a story. And that I had to call the cops, but first I had a story. I crouched behind the bar and listened to as many of the details as I could, needing to get all the information for the story. It was only when I had stopped to text Jake to give him a heads up to the situation that I got noticed.
A lot of mace and a police raid later, I stood outside the bar, watching triumphantly as several scowling men were being escorted, hands cuffed behind their backs, into police squad cars. I was already dreaming up a headline and hoping no employed reporter beat me to it.
I had been minding my own business entirely when I saw the kid steal the old lady's purse. It was gross in how basic and immoral it was, just shoving her aside and yanking the purse right off her arm. She was well dressed, clearly rich, but frail and holding tight to one of those yappy lap dogs so she couldn't fight back. Someone had to fight back for her.
So I ran after the boy. I had no choice.
He was far faster than I thought any ten year old kid should be, but thanks to his bright orange hair, I saw him duck into what turned out to be a seedy looking bar from a block away. Kids should not be in bars and no one should be in a bar that looked this dark even in bright afternoon sun. So I went in through the back door, which had been left open to take in a delivery, and made my way stealthily to the main room. There was only one guy inventorying things in the back, so that had been pretty easy, too.
The fact that this was a gang den was completely unknown to me, so the fact that I had wandered into a gang den shouldn't be held against me. I was ignorant as to what was going on. But when I saw tiny bags of white powder being passed around, I knew I had a story. And that I had to call the cops, but first I had a story. I crouched behind the bar and listened to as many of the details as I could, needing to get all the information for the story. It was only when I had stopped to text Jake to give him a heads up to the situation that I got noticed.
A lot of mace and a police raid later, I stood outside the bar, watching triumphantly as several scowling men were being escorted, hands cuffed behind their backs, into police squad cars. I was already dreaming up a headline and hoping no employed reporter beat me to it.
I was going a little out of my mind with ideas and stories and no real outlet for them. So when the posting popped up that someone was asking for writers to work on a new independent publication, I seized on the opportunity. Who knew? Maybe it would end up as a paying job and I could get myself out of the home. I was being picky on that front, I knew, but there were so many choices that I was being denied, just by being in Darrow itself, that I wanted what power I did have to be exercised exactly how I wanted it to be. No burger slinging jobs for me, only something I loved.
There was a light rain drizzling down as I made my way to the coffee shop, so my hair was a bit frizzed despite the now damp hoodie I had on over my shirt. At least my trusty boots were made for walking in the rain and my messenger bag, carrying vital notebooks, was waterproof.
I scanned the crowd of coffee and sugar addicts that had been drawn to the warmth and caffeine through the rain. There in the back I saw an Asian woman surrounded by books and papers. Yup, that pretty much matched the description plus the image I had in my mind. I don't think I would trust any reporter who didn't have a full desk.
I grabbed myself a double chocolate mocha with whipped cream to drown out the taste of coffee, which I was still getting used to, and headed over to the table.
"Hi?" I said. "Cindy?"
There was a light rain drizzling down as I made my way to the coffee shop, so my hair was a bit frizzed despite the now damp hoodie I had on over my shirt. At least my trusty boots were made for walking in the rain and my messenger bag, carrying vital notebooks, was waterproof.
I scanned the crowd of coffee and sugar addicts that had been drawn to the warmth and caffeine through the rain. There in the back I saw an Asian woman surrounded by books and papers. Yup, that pretty much matched the description plus the image I had in my mind. I don't think I would trust any reporter who didn't have a full desk.
I grabbed myself a double chocolate mocha with whipped cream to drown out the taste of coffee, which I was still getting used to, and headed over to the table.
"Hi?" I said. "Cindy?"
I hated Darrow's Home for Children. I hated it on principle more than on the home or the helpers or the other kids living there. I hated the idea that someone, whoever ran Darrow, had taken me away from my parents and put me in a place for those without parents. Like they were doing a kindness to me by giving me someone to take care of me, when the people who should be taking care of me were completely out of my reach. It was complete crap. It was a constant reminder that my parents were not here, that there might be some other me taking my own place and that if not my parents were frantically trying to find me, hopelessly. Maybe I could have come to terms with this whole situation a little better if I were on my own, but I wasn't allowed to.
Yet.
There were rules for this kind of thing. Rules that, unfortunately, I had to follow. But I could bend them and speed them along as best as possible.
I sat in the common room of the Home with a large book of Darrow law across my lap. It was boring and impossible to get through. How I longed for my laptop back home. How I longed for Devin and his Super Librarian friend who knew how to find information out of stacks of books. I was looking for loopholes because I was taking a break from job applications. (Another thing I hated on principle. How I longed for my job at the Daily Scoop.)
I was dozing, bored out of my mind and lulled by the quiet of the moment. The littler kids were taking their nap, so there was relative silence. Curled up on an armchair the way I was, it was unsurprising that the second I fell completely asleep, the heavy book fell off my lap and crashed to the ground with a loud thud. It was unsurprising, but still startling.
"Crap!" I half-shouted, jerking awake. "Crap!" I said again, realizing the book had crumpled all of my job applications. So much for professionalism.
Yet.
There were rules for this kind of thing. Rules that, unfortunately, I had to follow. But I could bend them and speed them along as best as possible.
I sat in the common room of the Home with a large book of Darrow law across my lap. It was boring and impossible to get through. How I longed for my laptop back home. How I longed for Devin and his Super Librarian friend who knew how to find information out of stacks of books. I was looking for loopholes because I was taking a break from job applications. (Another thing I hated on principle. How I longed for my job at the Daily Scoop.)
I was dozing, bored out of my mind and lulled by the quiet of the moment. The littler kids were taking their nap, so there was relative silence. Curled up on an armchair the way I was, it was unsurprising that the second I fell completely asleep, the heavy book fell off my lap and crashed to the ground with a loud thud. It was unsurprising, but still startling.
"Crap!" I half-shouted, jerking awake. "Crap!" I said again, realizing the book had crumpled all of my job applications. So much for professionalism.