Latest Posts by writerdownbookworder - Page 2

I watched through half closed eyes as my wife “snuck” back into the bedroom, discarding her clothes and changing back into her pajamas before she slid into bed with me.

I hid a smile as I stirred, making her freeze. 

I mumbled, “Hey, baby. Did you get up?”

Her voice was pinched and high as she squeaked, “No! Just the bathroom!”

The snicker almost escaped, but I covered it by rolling back over. I fell asleep, only to wake up the next morning to find a note on the kitchen table.

“Sorry I missed you! My job needs me to travel for a few days. There's a convention in Springdale. Love you!”

I laughed out loud as I made my coffee. There wasn’t a convention center in Springdale. There wasn’t even a hotel.

A week later, she was late to my birthday party. 

A loose term, considering it was the two of us and a cake I picked up from the store. Oh, and some takeout! Didn’t want to cook.

She ran in the door. “Sorry, sorry! Got held up at the… office.” She hung up her coat and hat, coming over and kissing me deeply. 

I paused, pulling away slightly. “Love, do you smell something?”

She shook her head, confused. “No. What’s wrong? What do you smell?”

I hid my grin. “It almost smells like…blood. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

Her eyes went huge as she squeaked, “No! I’m fine! Must be…dirt! Tripped outside!”

I took a huge bite of cake. “Ah. My mistake. Hey, I was thinking of taking up a new hobby. What do you think about me becoming an assassin?”

I watched gleefully as she spit out a huge gulp of water, a true spit take. Finally, I am unable to hold in my excitement, laughing as she coughs and wipes her mouth.

Then she glared at me. “How long have you known?!”

I felt almost guilty when I said, “12 years.”

The look on her face was worth every second of it.

Your spouse (erroneously) thinks they’ve done a good job hiding the fact that they’re an assassin for hire from you. You’ve known for years now, but find just how awful they are at hiding it endearing, and don’t want to spoil it for them.

My father stares at me. “I…could ask the same thing.”

I wave off my soldiers around the room. “It’s okay. This is my father. Stand down”

He watches as they sheath their weapons, returning to their posts along the walls. His eyes travel the room, taking in all the Fae who are watching the exchange.

I clear my throat. “Attention, please. My receiving hours are over for today. Apologies to those of you who did not get an audience. I will open my courts tomorrow as well to make up for it.”

The throne room empties slowly, mostly without grumbling. A few Fae cast anxious glances at my father, glaringly human in the midst of so much magic.

“I- I-” he stammers. “You are… queen? Of all these…things?”

I gesture for him to sit. “I will explain. But you must listen and not interrupt.”

He nods, and I begin my tale.

“Twenty years ago, I was playing in the front garden on Mama’s birthday. I knew you wished to be alone, even at 4 years old. While you were talking to her grave in the clearing, I was stolen by a group of radicals, traitors to the Fae crown. 

“It was a civil war.

“It was almost two years before the resistance was tamped out and I was rescued by the crown. The previous queen was old. Her husband had died in the war, leaving her running the war with only her 8 year old son to help. 

“About 10 years ago, she crowned him King of the Fae. We struck up a friendship, which turned to courtship. We were joined - married - about five years ago. The old queen died shortly after. 

“So here I am, Queen of the Fae.” I smiled kindly at my father. “If you had come a few days earlier, you could have met my husband. He’s away right now, helping in one of the Eastern provinces.”

My father looks hurt. “They didn’t let you come home?”

I shake my head. “Father, you were so hurt after Mama died. You never really seemed to care much about me. I knew you loved me, but I assumed you would have thought I was dead and left it alone a long time ago. Besides, once I came to live with the old queen and prince, I loved it here. And once we began courting, they made me fully Fae. I can never live normally among humans.”

My father looks away uncomfortably. “I…never meant to make you feel that way.”

My voice is soft. “I know. It’s okay, Father. You’ve found me now! I’m alive. I’m happy. What more could you want? You can go home and live your life.”

My father steps forward. “I want you to come home with me! You can’t truly be happy! Look at this place, these people! They stole you from me. Now I can steal you back.”

I take a step backwards. “I am happy, Father. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like, although you can’t stay permanently. But I will be staying. These are my people, and if you threaten them, me, or my family, I will not hesitate to take action against you.”

He does not fight me. My father agrees to stay for a little while, wanting to meet my husband. 

Two weeks later, after a few strained dinners between my father and husband, I woke in the middle of the night to see my father standing over our bed with a knife.

He did not leave the palace after all.

His daughter was stolen by the Fae. Two decades of fruitless searching later, his time for vengeance has come. He kicks in the door to the Queen’s throne room as she flies to her feet, grabbing the hilt of her sword before recognition flashes across her face. “Dad… what are you doing here?”

“I don’t understand why you can’t help me!”

The angry girl slammed her hand down on the table.

I sighed. “Look, ma’am, I have security, and I’m not afraid of calling them. You need to calm down.”

She gritted her teeth. “Can you give me anything? A hint? A city? A state?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you. If you speak to the receptionist, she will issue a refund, along with something special for your trouble.”

The girl stood up in a huff. “Some matchmaker you are. Why can’t you help me?”

I sighed again. “I can’t tell you that. What I can tell you, is that you don’t have to be with your soulmate. Soulmates are overrated. You can be with anyone you choose. Some people never find their soulmates and are perfectly happy. Or you can choose to be happy without a partner. Get a dog. Adopt a kid. Move in with a friend. This doesn’t mean that you have to be alone.”

The girl rolled her eyes and flounced out of my back room. A few minutes later, I heard her arguing with the receptionist loudly.

“Why couldn’t you help her?”

I yelped in surprise as my apprentice appeared behind me, emerging from the closet.

I groaned. “Jason! How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Jason grinned. “I think this makes 237.” He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and made a note, presumably marking this event as number 238. He snapped it shut, then looked at me seriously.

“But for real, why was she so mad? Could you not see her string?”

“I could see it,” I said quietly. “But it wasn’t red anymore. I couldn’t be the one to tell her that.”

Jason nodded slowly. “What does that mean again? I know the string gets brighter when you are close to the other person. Doesn’t it turn purple if the other person is with someone else? Was her string purple?”

I shook my head. “It was black.”

Jason thought for a minute before shaking his head. “I don’t remember that.”

“Jason,” I groaned. “You’ve been my apprentice for over a year! Anyway, black means the other person is…dead.” I shuddered, the memories resurfacing.

His face was suitably remorseful. “Sorry. I forgot, I didn’t mean to…”

My eyes were unfocused as I flew down memory lane. The first time I remember seeing the strings, when I learned what that meant, seeing my own.

Then the less pleasant memories. Telling people who their soulmate was, only to have them upset that it wasn’t who they wanted. Finding my soulmate, only to watch my string turn black after only a few months. Figuring out how to sever a string. 

The receptionist knocked on the door, startling me out of my thoughts. “Sorry, I just locked up. Thought I would go ahead and give you the day's earnings before I leave. See you tomorrow?”

I nodded and watched her leave. Then I looked at the money on the table in front of me and started counting it. 

It might not be the most pleasant business.

But it sure paid well.

Some say that an invisible red string is tied around the fingers of soulmates meant to be together forever. As it turns out, you can see these red strings, and have therefore created a highly successful matchmaking business.

“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.

Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?

A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.

“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.

I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”

He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”

“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it. 

By the time I got there, it was too late.

“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.” 

It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.

I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer. 

Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”

I stubbornly ignore him.

He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”

He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.

Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”

“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”

Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”

“Why do you-”

“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years! 

“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”

I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”

Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”

He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.

The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.

Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.

I chose the latter.

your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times

Hanna looked at her watch. Usually he was here by now.

The people she had trapped and tied up whimpered, pleading. She ignored them, scanning the rooftops for any sign of Kyle.

After a whole half hour had passed with no sign of him, she sighed and released the captives with barely any marks on them, not even hearing their cries of thanks as they ran.

Hanna set off, slipping through shadows and alleys as she made her way to Kyle's apartment. He lived only a few blocks from the community college, am easy landmark to remember. To top that off, his front door was bright red.

She settled into a shadow behind the dumpster nearby and waited, watching for any sign of him.

The shadows grew longer. Hanna's eyelids drooped and she slid down against the wall, yawning. A few minutes later, she sat bolt upright, her sensitive hearing picking up a quiet sound coming closer.

She peered around the dumpster, her eyes widening as she saw Kyle limping toward his door. There was dried blood everywhere, a few places still bleeding. The weirdest part...

It hadn't been Hanna.

If it wasn't Hanna who had attacked Kyle, who had?

Hanna snapped out of her thoughts as Kyle struggled to unlock his door. He dropped the keys as he swayed, reaching out to steady himself on the doorframe.

The villian hesitated. On one hand, he was her enemy. On the other hand, they enjoyed the time fighting so much that they were practically friends (in the loosest sense of the word, of course). Mostly, there was something that didn't add up about Kyle's injuries, and Hanna wanted to figure it out.

She stepped forward.

Kyle noticed the movement and sighed as he turned, mumbling, "Someone beat you to it today. Sorry."

Hanna ignored him, stepping closer and picking up his keys, unlocking the door for him. She turned just in time to watch him crumple to the ground.

She took Kyle inside and laid him on the floor, hunting around for a first aid kit. Hanna pulled off his shirt and froze.

Kyle stirred. When his eyes opened a Crack and he observed the scene, he quipped, "What? I'm amazingly ripped and flawless?"

Hanna's face was positively white as she started cleaning and bandaging some of his wounds.

Kyle's face was concerned as he watched her. "What? I think I'll live, most of this is superficial."

"I know who attacked you." Hanna's voice was barely above a whisper.

He waited, holding his breath.

Hanna pointed to a small symbol burned into Kyle's shoulder.

"That's my father's mark."

You are a Villain who has always had The Hero to stop you. At first, it was a true rivalry, soon it became a bit more like cat and mouse, you even found yourself enjoying it. One day, The Hero isn't showing up to stop you.

He shrugged as much as was possible, what with all the ropes holding him in place against the pole.

"Honestly, I'm good with either one."

The villian stopped her pacing. "Huh?"

He shrugged again. "I dunno, I'm kinda done with all this hero stuff. They ask me to do things that keep me up at night. If I'm dead, they can't make me do stuff anymore!"

She paused, staring at him in fascination. "That is...slightly morbid."

"And," he continued. "Let's be objectively honest. You're a gorgeous person."

The villian couldn't help her blush, though she crossed her arms and turned away to hide it, resuming her pacing.

The hero watched her for a few more minutes before he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Did you...did you really want to kiss me - or kill me - or was that just messing with my head? I can never tell with you."

She ignored him and walked away, out of his sight line. He could hear her rummaging through what he assumed were her possessions. Several minutes later, the villian walked back into view, carrying a backpack that was obviously stuffed.

One eyebrow raised as the hero asked, "Going somewhere?"

She raised her eyebrows right back. "Yeah, to my sister's place. If you don't want to do this little dance anymore, it takes all the fun out of it."

"Now, I didn't say that-"

"So," she interrupted. "Wanna come with me?"

Writing Prompt #2848

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Kiss you. Kill you. I'm not sure yet."

The little girl watched as the kind man held her brother. 

A single tear ran down his cheek, and she felt one on her own face.

Even the kind man was crying.

The little girl looked out the window of his shop and surveyed the scene. The blood, the cars, the flashing lights of cop cars, ambulances, and firetrucks alike. 

Behind her, her brother sobbed, “I’m sorry, Ella.”

Ella cried into her hands silently, wishing she could make a sound, touch him. She felt a tug, deep inside her, but she fought it.

A paramedic was tending to her brother, wrapping his wounds and scolding him for putting himself in danger.

“Ella was in trouble,” he said stubbornly.

The kind man held his good hand. “Is the girl going to be okay?”

The paramedic stayed quiet.

Ella ignored the tugging, sobbing silently, screaming into the soundless void.

He spoke again. “Did they catch the man who hit her?”

Ella watched as the paramedic shook his head slowly, and her brother screamed in anger. 

More people came in and out of the shop. Police officers wanting to question her brother and the kind man, medics checking on him, and finally, their parents made it through the backed up traffic and yellow tape, bursting in to hug their son tearfully.

“It wasn’t your fault,” they whispered over and over again.

Ella agreed with them, trying to join their hug.

This time she couldn’t fight the tugging. She was pulled away from her family.

Forever.

Writing Prompt #2822

"Kid, sit down." The man held a hand on the injured teen's shoulder. "You almost died twenty minutes ago. Take a breath."

"But someone has to go out there and save her! It's my fault she—"

"It's nobody's damn fault but the bastard who did this. You're not responsible for everyone else. The sooner you learn that, the better."

I groan as the well-meaning hero handcuffs me. For the third time this week.

“I’m telling you, all she wanted to do was say goodbye!”

The hero scoffs, tossing her hair. “Uh huh. Then would you care to explain why there was someone who was supposed to be dead marching down Main Street, terrorizing the locals?”

I try to rub my forehead, forgetting about the handcuffs, wincing with pain when they pinch my skin. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know things would get this out of hand. I’m just trying to help! You’ve got to stop arresting me for that!”

The hero gets a serious look in her eyes. “Okay, let’s get a few things straight. First, I’m not arresting you. I’m detaining you, for the main purpose of protecting you from some very angry locals. Second, I know you’re trying to help, which is the main reason you haven’t been actually arrested yet. Third, I want to help you! We’ve been over this before!”

I roll my eyes, wincing at the ache behind them. Raising the dead comes with a price.

The hero sighs and starts digging around in her backpack. “You forgot aspirin again, didn’t you?” She helps me swallow it before she continues talking. “If you would just talk to me before you go rushing off next time. I could have told you that in this particular case, the woman you raised was arrested twice in the last five years of her life. I would have told you it wasn’t a good idea, that she might try to seek revenge.”

I shrug, as well as I can with my hands behind my back. “The dead can be unpredictable. At least Shelly got to say goodbye to her sister. They’re twins, you know.”

“You’ve got to leave,” the hero whispers. She doesn’t meet my eyes. “It’s too hard here. You keep raising people that turn on you. Everyone else - and I mean everyone - wants to stop you for good. Take away your powers. You know that you can’t stay here anymore. I’m the only one who backed you this time.”

I stare for a minute. “Wha- leave? Like…for good? I’d need to- to pack…”

She wordlessly pulls a second backpack from inside hers. I’d never understood how she fit so much inside that thing. I recognize it as my own backpack, and it looks full.

“I just needed you to listen to me,” she says quietly, unlocking the cuffs. 

I rub the feeling back into my wrists as she hands me my backpack. I peek inside.

“There’s water, food, aspirin, a few changes of clothes, and some money in there.” The hero says, zipping up her own backpack. “I stuck a few other things in there too. There should be a map somewhere. Your best bet is probably the river town a few days from here. Good luck.”

I stare at her as she starts to walk away. I find my voice. “Wait.”

She turns.

“Won’t they be mad at you for letting me go? Again?”

She nods without a sound.

“Thank you,” I whisper, still shocked at her kindness.

She starts to walk away again, saying over her shoulder, “You’re welcome.”

“Wait.”

She pauses.

“Aren’t you coming?”

You’re a necromancer, but only ever use your magic for good, like letting the dead and living alike get closure, or raising fallen enemies to hand them over to the proper authorities. Only problem is that heroes usually think that you’re one of the bad guys.

She sighed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I shrugged. “Just trying to lighten the mood, Sara. You look tense.”

She growled - growled! - at me. “Look, we only have 5 more minutes before this thing explodes. Or…whatever it’s going to do. I’d rather not find out. Pass me that paper.”

I pantomimed zipping my lips, and sat back, watching her frantically scribble on the paper, trying to figure out the right code to shut off the machine.

3 minutes went by. I couldn’t help myself. “Need help yet?”

Sara was practically shaking with nerves. “I can’t figure it out! I’ve tried everything!”

I leaned forward and gently took the paper out of her hands. She tried to snatch it back and I tossed it in the trash.

She threw up her hands in frustration. “Fine! You try then!” She glanced at the timer.

A minute and a half.

I grinned as I leaned around her and pressed a few buttons. The timer started counting down faster.

I winced. “Whoops.”

Sara groaned and slumped down with her head in her hands.

I rolled my eyes and pressed a few more buttons, making the machine stop counting completely. She slowly looked up. “Wha- How? I mean, thank you, but…”

I gave her a mock bow. “If you had listened to me before, I could have told you that I had two codes to try. Got one out of the genius’ brother and the other out of the maker himself. Didn’t know which was the right one, but I was about 75% sure one of them would work.”

Sara blushed sheepishly. “I- sorry. I should have listened to you.”

I shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, you were only off by one number.”

She hugged me. “Thanks. Now what do we do?”

I grinned mischievously, and grabbed a bat from the corner of the garage.

Writing Prompt #2782

"Would you stop trying to help?" She snapped. "You're getting in the way. I just need to do things my way right now."

"Oh. Yeah. I'll just...sit here and be eye candy. That's all I'm good for."

I rolled my eyes at my husband. “It’s enough for me, but not for my captain of the guard. If you want to fight, you fight under him, and he will insist on the oath. It’s not too bad, I took it yesterday”

He knelt in front of me, giving me puppy dog eyes. “I already took an oath. Perhaps you might recall? I do believe you were there as well. About 10 months ago… Exciting day… In the woods… Our families and friends were there… You wore the most beautiful dress…”

I laughed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, love.”

He took my hands and kissed them. “But it’s true! How is it flattery when every word is a fact?”

I smiled at him and leaned down, touching my forehead to his. “I love you.”

He whispered the words back to me, and we remained like that for several minutes, breathing in the scent of each other, feeling the light touch and using it to anchor ourselves to the earth. The battle would begin in a few short days, and everything would change, for a better world hopefully.

Finally my love spoke again. “I truly do want to fight for you. I will. I will take whatever oath I need to. If the cause puts you on the throne, I believe in it.”

I grinned at him. “Thank you.”

Writing Prompt #2829

"Are you willing to die for the cause?"

"No. But I am willing to die for you. Is that not enough?"

The first few days after the wedding were the most…interesting. My Our people were picking themselves up after a long war. They didn’t know how this was supposed to work. How to bow to the person who had been responsible for the damage, the casualties.

Inside the castle, things were just as confusing. My Our servants tiptoed around the castle, scared to death of my new wife, unsure of how she would act as mistress of the castle and queen of the land. 

I did not regret my decision, not then, not now. The adjustment just took some time. The wedding in particular was…memorable. Allowing the woman responsible for so many deaths into my the church, standing by her side, taking the vows only broken in death, was a surreal experience. Letting her into my our bed that night was even harder. She had given the order that led to my own father and brother dying, not to mention some of my cousins and best friends. 

After a few months, we slowly grew to know each other better. 

Years passed. We forgave each other, for I had caused almost as much damage to her people as she had to mine. Although nothing could undo the damage, we slowly built a trust and friendship with each other. At the same time, my our people learned to trust and respect her, and her our people did the same for me. 

It was not a conscious change.

It was slow and tedious.

It took care and intention.

One day, I looked at her.

My wife, my queen, my partner, my best friend. The woman who had started a war that took the lives of my family and friends, my our people. And I realized…I loved her. 

What had started in an effort to simply end the war between our people, led to a marriage of convenience, ended in a marriage of love. 

My dear Helena, while I did not love you at first, I love you now. I love you still. Forever and always, my wife, queen of OUR people.

From the diary of King Carlos Rolfson, 3173 A.D., shortly after the death of his wife, Queen Helena Rolfson (3096 A.D.-3173 A.D.), married 56 years

You were a beloved ruler of your country. When the evil king/ queen tried to conquer your country, you fought to the death to protect your country. Seeing how much your people loved you, the evil king/ queen proposes that you two marry to merge your countries. You accept for your country's sake.

*oops, my hand slipped. it's really long*

“Uhhh…” 

I feel like I should probably be mad or something, but all I am is thoroughly confused. My family is in the same room as Josie’s and no one is yelling or threatening anyone.

Josie throws herself on the bed, sobbing. Taken aback, I put my arms around her, uncomfortable, but unwilling to not try to comfort her.

My father walks over to the bed and puts a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Glad to see you awake, son.”

I nod quietly as my mother walks over as well, tears in her eyes.

“The doctors said it would be a miracle if you woke up,” she whimpered, lifting a tissue to dab her eyes. “Josie told us everything.”

Josie sits up a little and I can see her face, tear-stained. To most of the room, I’m sure she looks like she’s relieved to see me awake, but I can see something else underneath that. Fear?

What did she tell them?

Josie’s older sister helps their dad to his feet, and he comes over as well, Josie scooting backwards and off the bed to make room for him. The man had scared me since I was a child, and not much had changed in the 15 years since then. 

He stares into my eyes intensely. “It was you?”

Everyone in the room seems to hold their breath. They all wait for me to say something. Because they are all turned toward me, no one sees Josie clasp her hands, pleading silently with me to say yes.

Slowly, I nod. “Yes, sir.”

Everyone exhales. Then, a flurry of activity comes out of nowhere. Parents asking questions, sisters talking over each other, brothers causing a general upheaval. 

No one sees the look of gratitude Josie gives me.

Finally, after what seems like hours, but is probably only minutes, a doctor and nurse show up and shoos everyone out. After a quick check, they let one person come back in. 

Josie walks in sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“How long was I out?!” I demand quietly. “What’s going on? Why is no one killing each other? And I’m pretty sure you weren’t pregnant the last time I saw you!”

Josie laughs as she eases herself into a chair. “Do you want me to explain, or do you just want to keep asking questions?”

I zip my lips and settle back into the bed, ignoring the headache pounding behind my temples.

“It’s only been about 3 months since the accident,” she starts. “I was about 5 months along, hiding my bump under baggy clothes, not going out much. My parents want me to marry the father, but…I can’t.”

I open my mouth but she cuts me off. “Just listen, okay?”

She waits for my nod before continuing. “The doctors, they thought you wouldn’t wake up. Of course I hoped you would! I really did! I know that we’ve never been really close or anything, but our parents' feud has never been ours, and I still remember how it was back when we were little. So…I told my parents that you were the father.”

“What?!”

“Shh! They thought you wouldn’t wake up! I thought that it would be the right thing! They think its you, you die, I’m out. But…here we are.”

I am furious. “You dragged me into this without asking!”

Josie looks suitably guilty. “I know. And I’m so sorry. Really.”

I rub my forehead, the throbbing growing more persistent. “So, who’s the real father? Cause I know it’s not me.”

Josie sighs. “I…don’t really know. Not because I was sleeping around!” she rushes to say. “I was attacked. But if I tell my family that, you know what will happen.”

Unfortunately, I did. The last time anyone even looked at Josie wrong was in elementary school. Her parents showed up at recess and terrorized the kid out of sight of everyone until he was limp with fear. There were threats taped to his family’s mailbox and front door for weeks. Rumors said that Josie’s dad even attacked the kid’s father, but no one actually knew if that was true. 

If Josie’s family knew that someone had physically attacked their youngest daughter, the baby of their family, resulting in her pregnancy…there wouldn’t be anything left of the guy to find.

I sigh. “I hate to say it, but I’m failing to see the problem with that. If he attacked you…”

Josie shrugged. “I can’t be sure of who it was. I suspect, but it was dark. I’m just not positive.”

“So, what? You told them that we were dating in secret?”

She nods. “And now…” she falls silent, not meeting my eyes.

“What?”

Josie looks out the window, mumbling, “They want us to get married now. Before the baby comes in a month.”

“Josie!”

When she looks back at me, there are tears in her eyes. “Please. I will never ask you for anything else. All it has to be is a legal marriage. We don’t even have to live together. As long as there is someone claiming me and this baby, I think my parents will be satisfied.”

“Do I have a choice?” I grumble, crossing my arms and glaring at her.

She stares at me seriously. “Of course. If you say no, I will tell everyone that I lied, take the pressure off of you. I’ll try to find someone else, though I’ve exhausted most of my options. Or I’ll end up on my own. My parents already said they would never talk to me again if I didn’t do this. I can do it alone, I really can. I have a good job. It’ll just be…difficult.”

She holds her breath, waiting to see if I say anything. When I don’t, she slowly exhales and gets up with a grunt. “Well, thanks anyway. I’m glad you’re awake. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Josie starts toward the door, grabbing her things along the way. 

“Josie, wait.”

She turns, hope flooding her face.

I grin. “Let’s do it. But we do it my way.”

You wake up in the hospital after a major accident. To your confusion, your rival (your families have been feuding for years) is there crying tears of relief and calling you 'sweetheart.' What's even stranger is that she looks older and is visibly pregnant.

I wasted no time.

My children might come back. They would most likely not find me. On that off chance that they would return, I grabbed a pad of paper and started writing.

"To Anna, my oldest,

You are the baby that made me a mom. I am so grateful for you and all the help you have given me. Stay strong for me. Love your brother and sister, help them through if you can. You can be the glue that holds us together, just like you have done for years.

I am so proud of you."

"To Blake, my only son,

Ever since your father died, I have so loved seeing you step into his role as 'man' of the house, without being asked. Even though it was not an ideal situation, you made the most of it; I'm proud of you.

I love you, my son."

"To Callie, my youngest"

I know we have not had very many years together. Only 5, compared to your sister's 12 and your brother's 10. But I love you just as much as I love them. You have brought the laughter and joy into this house from day one.

Keep smiling, even when it's hard."

I signed each letter, adding a few things here and there. I placed them in envelopes with their names and carefully arranged them on the kitchen table, where they could not be missed.

I added a note alongside them, asking for anyone who might find them to either leave them, or help them reach my children.

And then all I could do was wait.

It was 3 days before the end came for her.

It was 7 months before anyone entered the house again. They took some food and clothing, and left the notes.

It was 2 years before one of the kids returned. Callie took her letter and left without looking back.

It was 3 more years before Blake returned. He looked at his letter...swept it into a trash can without reading it.

It was only 1 more year before Anna finally walked into her childhood home, accompanied by her husband. She held a hand to her swollen belly as she looked around, spotting her note on the table. She picked it up and read it, tears streaming down her face, her husband holding her tightly.

Anna spotted Blake's letter in the trash and picked it up. She read his too, wishing she could see her sister and brother again. She hadn't missed her mom in 6 years. They weren't allowed to.

But there was no stopping it now. Anna wept into her husband's shoulder, knowing the truth.

She would never see her mother again. She would never see her siblings again. Her brother and sister had both deserted her, even as she tried to keep them together. She would probably never see them again either.

And her mother had died thinking Anna would keep their family together.

She had failed.

All children under the age of 13 vanishes with only a note left behind that says “Due to humans not caring about the future of their young, all children have been relocated. If you truly love (Name), you will not intervene as we restart your race. -Signed ‘The Protectors’”

“How did you do that?!” I shriek.

The Knight is staring at her sword in surprise and shock. She looks up with wide eyes. 

“I don’t know!” she cries out. 

I hesitantly raise the gun again and pause. “Can you…do it again?” I ask curiously.

She shrugs, equally curious. “Try it.”

I fire…and she manages to parry it again.

The gun drops to my side in shock, and she drops her sword like it’s on fire. She stares at it in horror.

“It must be cursed!” she yelps, backing away from her sword.

I roll my eyes. “Really?”

The Knight trembles with fear. “I traded for it a few weeks ago. Traveling trader. She said it was special, but I thought she just meant that it was forged well! This is my first time actually fighting with it!”

I stare at her. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that you brought a sword to a gun battle…and you hadn’t even used it yet?! What kind of Knight are you?!”

She shrugs sheepishly. “A not very experienced one?”

“Parry this you filthy casual.” You pull the trigger… and begin to panic as the Knight ACTUALLY parries the bullet.

I stared at him in horror. My best friend, my companion since childhood, knelt before me, holding out his sword.

“What have you done?” I whispered.

Kyle stood grimly, sheathing his sword. “What needed doing.”

I stomped my foot like a petulant child, my eyes filling with tears. “How could you?!”

Kyle looked away and didn’t answer.

I grabbed his hand. “That oath can’t be undone! Ever! You’re stuck!”

He refused to meet my eyes, gently extracting his hands from mine. “I know.”

The tears spilled over. “This isn’t what I wanted, Kyle.”

He winced. “I know.”

I kicked his shin in frustration. Not my smartest idea, as he was fully clad in armor. I hopped in pain for a moment. Kyle failed to hide his smile, but quickly schooled his expression.

I regained my footing and swiped the tears from my eyes. I stood straight and faced him. 

“I am mad at you.” I declared with my arms crossed.

Kyle nodded and bowed his head. “I would expect nothing less, Lady Isabelle.”

I stared for a moment, shaken at hearing my formal title come from his lips. He had never called me that before, not once. He barely called me my given name at all. 

I shook my head slowly, saddened. “Is- Is this what it is to be like now? Why? Why did you do it, Kyle?”

He looked away again. “You will be protected.”

I growled. “I can protect myself!”

He shook his head and met my eyes. “Not from this.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “From what?!”

His voice was barely a whisper. “There is…a plot. Stirring in the village. And if it’s here, it’s all over the kingdom. The people will rise and try to overthrow the rulers. The royal family, down to the children, the dukes, duchesses, their children. Anyone holding a title. Women and children alike. I can’t let you be a part of that…massacre.”

I was speechless for a few minutes, pacing back and forth in anger. “And you couldn’t just, I don’t know, TELL ME?!”

He shook his head, laughing. “Would you have listened? I know you, Lady Isabelle.”

“Stop calling me that!”

Kyle shrugged. “You wouldn’t have listened, and you know it! This was the only way. We are both bound by the oath now, until death.”

I started walking away in disgust, not caring if he followed me. A moment later, I heard his footsteps join mine, crunching a few feet behind me.

“You know,” I said quietly, looking straight ahead as I walked. “I may not have listened to you. But that was not the oath I wanted.”

Kyle didn’t say a word.

I continued. “I meant every word I said. I assume you did too, so I truly do not know why I am telling you this, but every word I said was true. You have been my best friend since that day you found me in the stables. My companion, the only person I could talk to as an equal.”

He stumbled behind me. I paused my steps until I heard him resume walking, but I did not turn my head.

“I truly love you.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I always have. Did you not ever wonder? At my feelings, at your own? Am I…incorrect in assuming you ever felt the same way about me?” 

I held my breath, unsure of the answer, unsure if I would even receive one, or one I even wanted to hear.

Kyle didn’t speak for a long moment. We were almost down the mountain when I finally heard him exhale and begin to speak. Neither of us looked at the other.

“Thank you for your honesty. Truly. I have always…tried to protect you and help you in whatever way I could.”

I couldn’t help groaning. “Just tell me the truth!” I turned to look at him. “I thought you always told me the truth, even when it was hard! Was I wrong about any of it? All of it? Tell me now! Just tell me! If there was ever a time for your honest truth, it’s RIGHT NOW!”

Kyle finally lost his composure. “Of course I did, Belle! I knew everything. Your feelings for me, mine for you, and most importantly, how bad it would be if we ever acted on them in any way.”

I blinked slowly, tears spilling again. Surprisingly, there are tears in Kyle’s eyes too. I opened my mouth, then shut it and turned away.

“Thank you,” I said stiffly, walking over to my horse. I started undoing his tether as Kyle walked up behind me.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Lady Isabelle.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I am sorry though.” Kyle boosted me into my saddle without waiting for the request. 

I looked over at him from atop my horse, quiet as he mounted his own. 

Finally, I spoke one last time. “I just want to say one more thing, and then we will put this whole matter behind us, assuming our new roles to each other, understood?” 

I hated taking my official tone with him, but Kyle just nodded calmly, waiting for my words.

“I will never forget what you have done. I have wished for years to take an oath with you before me, but it was not that one, and now it never will be. That decision will haunt me for the rest of my life, having been taken away from me without my consent. But as it stands now, I will be forced to move on, and you will be forced to watch as I marry another and bear children that should have been yours. I never cared about your status, or mine, for that matter. I would have left with you the moment you breathed a word of it. Thank you for protecting me. Should the moment arrive that we are to flee, I will go with my household, you behind me. Until then, I think it best that we keep our distance.”

I turned my horse in the direction of my house and urged my horse on, not looking back at him.

I didn’t want him to see the tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I pledge to you my life-"

"wh-what?"

"As your protector and knight"

"wait stop. No-"

"to serve you-"

"please stop. Not like this"

"and stand behind you"

"No- stand with me n-not-"

"I pledge to you my loyalty and from this moment on. I shall honor and protect, put your liege before my own-"

"stop. I bid you to take it back!"

"From now my life is yours and I shall serve you with honor"

"This is no oath I ever desire from you!"

"I shall become the sword that will protect you"

"There must be another way-"

"I will aid you to the top"

"There's no height I will reside upon without you by my side!"

"I am your loyal servant"

"No- you're the only one who isn't. You're my companion, my love, the only one by my side. Don't do this, please"

"who will reside behind you until my bones turn to dust and my heart sets to a stop"

"N-no.....please"

"You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world...but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices."

- John Green, The Fault In Our Stars

"I may or may not have planted a beanstalk in the backyard on accident."

I bit my lip waiting for my husband's response. It's not the most welcome of homecomings after a long day at work.

Jack's eye twitches. "You...what?"

"It was an accident! The trader swore they were peas! You know I've been wanting a garden."

Jack runs over to the window and sees the beanstalk. It had only been an hour since I planted it, but it was already nearly as tall as the house.

I wring my hands. "I'm sorry! What do we do?"

Jack sighs. "I'll chop it down. Let me put my stuff down first."

I let out a breath of relief. "Thanks."

30 minutes later, the beanstalk is gone. Jack comes back inside, sweating. "If you have any more seeds, I can plant them for you, since I already need to shower."

I hand over the remaining seeds and kiss him on the cheek. "I love you. I'll start on dinner."

Several minutes later, I'm chopping vegetables when the door slams open and Jack comes back inside with wide eyes.

"Okay, I know those were strawberries, but look at them now." He points out the back door, to where a gigantic strawberry vine is slowly but surely poking out of the ground.

I drop the carrot I'm holding in shock.

Jack is fuming. "That trader better watch out, because the next time I see him, I'm giving him a piece of my mind!"

"Wait, try these," I say, handing him some more seeds. "Those ones came from my friend Ella. They should be apple trees. Normal ones."

Jack stomps outside and comes back in 10 minutes later. "They're growing like weeds! Good weeds, I suppose, but they're already starting to flower. It must not be the seeds."

"Maybe it's the dirt," I suggest. "Made anyone mad enough to curse our garden lately?"

Jack turns red.

I put down my knife and raise an eyebrow at him.

He blushes harder. "I may or may not have told Gothel that I couldn't fix her tower. She didn't like that, but I didn't think she would curse our garden!"

I shrug and resume chopping. "We'll make the best of it then. Super sized fruit will go a lot longer. Maybe we can sell some of it too!"

Writing Prompt #2742

"You know I love you."

"Of course."

"And I don't want to do anything to worry you."

"That's a really bad start to this conversation."

I pause. "Centuries?"

My brother nods. "Centuries, blah blah blah, prophecy, blah blah blah, chosen one, blah blah, overthrown and killed, you get the point. I'm outta here!"

He looks a bit too excited for my comfort. I gently extract my newborn daughter from my older brother's arms, slowly taking the dagger out of her hands.

"Mom told me you're 10 years older than me, and that's why you've been king as long as I can remember." I say carefully. Has he finally snapped? I knew the war was wearing on him, but this?

He rolls his eyes. "Try 287 years older than you. And "Mom" isn't really MY mom. Really, I thought you would have figured it out by now. I did try to leave you hints."

I can only stare at him. "But...how? Why?"

He shrugs. "Cursed, evil fairy, 'wasn't invited,' (her sister hid the invite, it wasn't my fault!), you get the idea."

I clutch my daughter a little tighter. "So no one has noticed that you've been on the throne for 200 years?"

"No, people are surprisingly unobservant. Every 30 years or so, I 'get sick' and fake my death, my 'son' rising to power. It's surprisingly easy to do."

My eyes widen in horror. "You're not my dad, right? Mom said he died a few years after i was born!"

He shudders. "Eww, no! Obviously, she knew and helped me lie about it, but no. For all intents and purposes, I'm still your older brother. Your family line has descended from my younger brother."

I can hardly believe my ears. "Why didn't Mom tell me the truth?"

My brother sighs. "There are some stupid people in this kingdom that actually like the way I rule, despite my best efforts to rile them up and get them to assassinate me (doesn't work by the way, someone tried that 173 years ago).

"If they knew the truth, that your child would finally take me out of power, you'd better believe that you wouldn't have lived past 5 years old. Despite my best efforts, there are still a few people out there who know the prophecy."

"So you want my infant child to stab you right now?!" I ask in disbelief. "I can understand the rest, but that would leave ME in charge until she's of age. And she would be crowned while she was still a child! Do you really want that for the kingdom?"

He rolls his eyes again. "I don't care."

"How are you so sure that it's her?"

He closes his eyes, remembering the prophecy. "'Spinner's daughter, without sister or brother, shall end your reign, and she will prosper.' Not a great prophecy as far as the contents. It barely rhymes, but it gave me hope that there would be an end to ...this.

"But if it means that much to you, I guess I can wait a few more years. But I will be telling her the truth, the WHOLE truth!"

I nod. "Me too," I say quietly.

17 years later, at my daughters birthday party, my brother's butler comes to find me, in a panic.

"Your Higness, your brother has fallen ill! It's quite bad. You should come see him."

I follow him up the stairs to my brother's room.

"What's the matter?" I ask when I see him, lying in his bed.

He smiles weakly. "I'm not sure when she did it, but she must be behind this. I'm so-" He cuts off in a coughing fit.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, tears filling my eyes. "I wish it could be different. Do you want to see her?"

He shakes his head. "Don't spoil her fun, it's her birthday. And I'm happy, I really am. I'll see my wife, my kids, my parents and siblings."

He sighs happily. "I've been dreaming about this for centuries."

An hour later, my older brother dies in his bed, 200 years overdue.

My daughter cries at her beloved uncle's death, though she wipes away her tears and puts on a brave face for the coronation the next morning.

The kingdom mourns his death for the final time, even as they celebrate their first queen in 275 years.

No one notices me slipping into the background of the party, hiding a small black bottle in my hand.

When I dump it out the window, the plants underneath it shrivel up and die.

“Why are you giving my newborn baby a dagger?!” “Well they’re a choosen one, which means that I’m destined to be killed by them; but honestly I’ve been waiting centuries for them to be born and I just want to get it over with.”

"Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again." - C. S. Lewis

She doesn't even bat an eye.

My face must look horrified. "Did you- Did you see anything?"

"Hmm, what? Oh, that. Yes, I saw." She goes back to washing dishes.

I can hardly believe it. "Aren't you shocked? Or, or scared? Or mad?"

She shrugs. "Honey, you've done this before. Now, I won't lie, the first time was a bit of a shock!" She laughs beautifully.

"First time? There have been multiple times you've seen me?!"

"Oh, yes! The first time, I woke up in the middle of the night and you had shifted during a nightmare. I almost screamed, but I didn't want to wake you."

"Aren't you confused though?" My brow furrows.

She shakes her head. "I googled it years ago! And anyway, I know that I love you, no matter what you look like. As long as you do laundry every once in a while and put the plates in the dishwasher, we'll be okay."

She fixes me with a stern look, and I nod quickly. "Deal!"

She resumes washing the dishes, then pauses. "You might still want to be careful of when you're in this...form. The neighbors would probably call the cops on you."

you are a shapeshifting monster who has been blending in with society for years. Today you accidently shifted back in front of your significant other.

"Sorry, can't help you," the council says, the head mage waving his hand. Everything fades away, and I find myself in the archmage's cottage.

I kick and throw some stuff out of irritation for awhile, shouting at the ceiling. But when I kick the bed, the end post falls off, revealing a hollow hole inside.

I reach in, and find a small journal. Curious, I sit down on the bed and open it up.

"Dear reader, if you are reading this, it means I have FINALLY found a way out!!! Bless you, for you are most likely the one to thank for this turn of events.

"You see, I (an archmage, for 200 years), was never supposed to be. I cannot do magic to save my life, as you have most likely found out firsthand. I am not even sure how I ended up with the position, as I never dueled the previous archmage. The council simply appeared one day and declared it so. And so here I am, writing this book to tell you how I have managed for two centuries without magic."

My eyes are huge as they scan the pages. A few pages in, I discover that the previous arachmage, while unable to do much magic, was quite accomplished at potion work.

Anytime someone came to him needing something, or he was called upon to solve a problem, or banish a beast, he found or made a potion of some kind to suit the problem.

The book is filled with potions recipes, words to speak over them, infusions to add to objects.

"All this time," I marvel. "Maybe the council knew what they were doing after all. It wasn't magic the archmage was performing.

"It was science."

You are a terrible mage, yet through pure, dumb luck you managed to defeat an archmage in a duel, thus taking their place according to ancient tradition. Many mages protest against giving such a prestigious position to a clearly unqualified candidate, including yourself.

*turned out longer than intended, but I tried*

"Wait, so what do I do?"

Death turns and starts walking away. "Doesn't matter to me. I can't help you, sorry!"

With a huff of irritation, I find my way home. Strangely, I can't open the door; my hand passes right through the doorknob. But, when I try to go through it, all I get is a nasty bruise.

"Strange," I mutter to myself, inspecting the door. "Didn't expect that."

I end up waiting at the door of my former home for a few hours before my twin brother gets home. He parks his car and comes up, pulling out his keys.

As he unlocks the door, I slip in behind him. "Thanks," I say, even though I know he can't hear me.

He stops and tilts his head to the side for a second before shaking his head and setting his things down.

I freeze. Did he just hear me?

"Luke?" I try. "Can you- Can you hear me?"

He makes no movement that he did, and I deflate. Now what?

Upon further exploration, I discover that I can only touch things that belonged to me while I was alive. Books of mine? Yes. The TV remote that Luke bought? No. The crossword puzzle book that was a gift from Mom for both of us? Somehow works? The house that Luke bought and had let me live in for a few months? Apparently that was also a no.

With no idea what else to do, I sat down and started reading a book.

A few hours later, a loud crash sounds from the kitchen. I jump up, and find Luke making dinner (and dropping a pan on the floor). I'm about to turn around and leave, knowing he's okay, when I realize that there are tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Dang it," he whispers, picking up the pan. "Why is everything going wrong today?"

Right on cue, his phone rings. He answers it and sits down to talk to the caller.

"Hey, Mom. ... No, just making dinner. ... Yes, I'm fine. ... I have not been crying! ... Fine, okay, yes, I was." His voice wobbles a bit at the end of the sentence and he swipes a hand over his eyes.

"He was my twin, Mom. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I swallow. However I was feeling, it was a hundred times worse for my family. I reach out as Luke continues talking to Mom, and put my hand on his shoulder.

Luke pauses again, glancing around the room before finishing his sentence.

"Luke?" I try again. "I'm okay. I'm here for you."

Luke looks up and smiles sadly. "I know, Mom. He's still with us."

I take my hand off his shoulder and step back, shocked.

Over the next week, I slowly piece together the ends and outs of my nonexistent afterlife. Luke cannot see or hear me on a regular basis. Only when he needs me does he ever hear anything. I eventually decide that he can't hear the words, only feel the sentiment.

And so, I go with Luke wherever he goes. I am with him when he meets a woman, and I nudge him in her direction. I am with him when he proposes, calming his nerves. Same on his wedding day, and when each of his three children are born.

I comfort him when our mother dies, happy and contented. When Death comes to take her, Luke is fully unaware of the conversation that happens in the room.

Death looks surprised to see me. "I expected you to be gone by now."

I roll my eyes. "I don't know where you thought I would go. You couldn't take me, remember? I had to figure it out myself."

My mother steps out of the shadows, her eyes fixed on Death. "You're here for me, I assume?"

"Mom?" My voice cracks.

She turns and her eyes widen at the sight of me. She dashes forward and hugs me tightly. "What are you doing here? I hoped to see you, I just didn't think it would be so soon!"

I gently pull myself out of the embrace, tears forming in my eyes. "I can't go with you. I've been here all this time, watching over Luke and you, because I can't go on."

My mother looks shocked. "But why?"

I shrug. "I wasn't supposed to die that day. There's no place for me."

My mother is crying. "You know we always loved you, right? We tried to make you happy."

Death clears his throat. "Touching, but we really ought to get going."

"No!" Mom shouts. "Why? Why can't he come too?"

Death sighed. "He wasn't supposed to die that day, he told the truth. There must have been something he left unfinished."

I shake my head. "I don't know what it is, Mom. I've tried. I'll be okay. I'll look after Luke and his family. Maybe I'll see you again someday."

Death takes her, glancing over his shoulder at me with a nod. I return it, waving at my mother as she disappears.

The years pass. Eventually, I start helping Luke's children, whispering in their ears when they fight, filling them with remorse. Calling out for them to be careful crossing the street, narrowly avoiding a car. Guiding them away from the meaner kids, and leading them to their new nest friends.

When my twin brother dies, the scene with Death repeats itself. This time it's harder to let go.

Death and I explain the problem to Luke, but he doesn't accept it, shouting at us. Even when I promise to look out for his kids, all he can do is scream, tears rolling down his cheeks.

I walk away first, sobbing.

Many years later, Luke's daughter gives birth to twins. I immediately fall in love with them. Over the years, I help them over and over again, as I had been doing for ages.

Then came the fateful day. Death appeared out of nowhere as I was watching the 17 year old twins at a school dance.

Death sits down next to me. "Well, your time is just about done."

"What?!" My jaw drops. "Really? You're going to take me this time? Why?"

Death sighs. "You'll see."

I scan the crowd, looking for the twins. I find Kaleb easily, but not Kylie.

A few seconds later, a scream erupts from the back of the room. The crowd parts for teachers rushing through, revealing Kylie, lying on the floor.

Death stands.

"No!" I shout, grabbing at him. "I'll stay! You can't take her!"

Death pulls free of my grasping hands. "It's already too late." He points a long, pale finger, and I see Kylie's spirit in the corner, looking around confused.

I run up to her, followed closely by Death.

"Am I...dead?" She asks, unsure.

"Please," I whisper, standing in front of her. "Don't take her."

"Wait, I know you!" Kylie exclaims. "Grandpa Luke's brother! But you've been dead for like eighty years!"

Death shakes his head at me. "I'm not taking her. I'm taking you. She will stay."

Kylie looks even more confused now. "But...I'm dead, aren't I? How can I stay?

I draw in a breath. "Kylie, I've spent my time helping my family. They, I guess you, could sometimes hear me, like a little voice in their heads. You can probably do the same."

Death reaches for my hand.

I scramble back. "No, wait! Kylie, I thought this would be forever. I wasn't supposed to die young. Neither were you! Maybe that's why this is happening. You have to live first, do something worthwhile before you can pass on."

Death succeeds in grabbing my hand this time and starts to pull me away.

"You'll be okay, Kylie!" I shout back to her. "We'll be waiting for you!"

Death and I leave Kylie behind, looking bewildered.

We step through a dark veil, and when we emerge on the other side I see the most wonderful sight I'd ever seen.

My family.

Death looks at you, baffled. “You’re not supposed to be dead.” You raise a brow. “I’m not?” “Nope,” Death says. “Huh… that’s never happened before.” Confused, you ask, “Do I get to go to an afterlife now?” Death shrugs. “You can’t, because you’re not officially dead.”