“Come here.”
The little boy looked at her, then back at the kitchen door.
“Come here!”
Something crashed in the kitchen. The boy turned away and stumbled over to her. She took him by the hand. “Come on, we have to go.”
“What's wrong with him?”
“Doesn't matter, just come on. We have to hide.”
“Why?”
“I did something, and now he's mad.”
“What did you do?”
“We have to hide.”
“What did you do?”
“I stole all of it.”
“What?”
“After school today, I stole all his drinks.”
“All of them?”
“Yeah.”
“You know he gets mad when he...

The movies always told me that it's the girl who usually hurts. It's the girl who usually waits, and the girl who usually feels lost in love.

My life isn't a movie.

I'm here in the forest, like Bella waiting for Edward, staring at the clock she gave me, counting down the days, the hours, even the minutes. Like a teenage girl pining over a college boy, I want nothing more right now than her in my arms, curled up on the grass beside me.

She can be thousands of miles away. She can be attending classes and working her...

"Where did you come from?"
The little devil sat on my hand.
"I'm from your head. I'm here to distract you."
He pried the pencil from my fingers and heaved it above his head.
"You won't be needing this anymore."
He tossed it down, into the trash.
"Hey! I need that!"
I needed to study for my standardized tests tomorrow.
"You don't need that. You need this."
He got up from my hand and patted my closed laptop.
"Why would I need my laptop?"
The little devil danced atop the shut black device.
"What are your friends up to? What's...

Dear MIT,

Hi. My name is Jeff. I am six years old. I have a big sister named Jessica. My big sister likes you. She talks about you a lot. I think she really wants you to like her too. But she says she is worried you don't like her. She is worried you will choose someone else over her. Do you not like her? I think she is a great person. She is really smart, and really nice. I like her a lot, and I like when she is happy. I think she will be happy if you tell...

Our eyes locked right before she went for the stuffed duck. I watched her bite it with resolution, shake her head back and forth like a dog. Her eyes met mine again with a clear and concise message: "My duck."

The duck became her best friend. I hardly talked to her unless she was eating my food. Then I yelled. It probably wasn't the most mature thing to do.. but what the hell. I fell in love from afar. I fell in love with her maple brown eyes, with her glistening nose, with her adorable whimper. She didn't know it...

She was twelve years old and had blood red lipstick. Her face was flushed and her hair tangled. She knelt at the bottom of the door frame, holding her red gown to her shoulders so that it wouldn't slip off.

Her father would pick her up soon. Relish over the money he made today. Not ask her how her day was. Ignore her fidgeting and discomfort. As long as she kept her customers satisfied, her dad was satisfied. Or rather, his drinking addiction was satisfied.

She wrapped her arms tighter around her legs. Someday she would get out. Someday she...