Waves. The sound was the first thing she noticed. She had to be somewhere near the ocean. She took a moment to register her immediate situation. Her right hand grasped a jutting piece of rock, and her left held tight to a thick branch that had somehow taken root in the cliff face. Her feet rested on a narrow ledge of rock that was no more than a few inches. She was thankful for her small feet, which her mother used to say were her best attribute.

She had to be at least 20 feet up. The ocean was too...

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I am still half dreaming as I open my eyes against the night. The alarm hasn't gone off yet, shaking me awake with its awful, soul grating shriek, and it is not yet morning. I glance at the slime green display on the clock - 2.18am. Not good. Something has disturbed my sleep at this usually, thankfully, unknown hour and I just hope that I can ignore it and drift back down into my rest.

I try, but there is a sound, or some movement, or maybe it's both things, and my eyes are open again even though I wish...

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I don't know how, but she did.

Can't she tell I tried? I really did, no matter what she screams, and no matter how many things she flings at me, or how hard she throws her punches.

My parents say I'm going to hell for what I am, that I'm unnatural and wrong. But how can something so beautiful and pure, be so wrong?

I have to go away tomorrow, they're sending me to some camp to 'fix' me. To make me better or something. Maybe this is for the best...

Day one: It's nice here, I guess. My bunkmate...

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It's here somewhere.

How did we lose it in the first place? I don't dare say it out loud, because they'll blame me.

We've been at this for hours and still we haven't found it.

I was told to put it someplace safe. Someplace it wouldn't be lost.

But I did. Well, maybe not technically, more like made it impossible to get to. How was I supposed to know they were going to pick this up and ship it out overseas as donations. I blame my crazy Aunt Ida, that woman has a bad habit of promising things to the...

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Balanced on the line, he told her again, "Put it down!"

"Why?" She replied.

"Just do it," he said. Both of his arms were held out, his delicate fingers rigid, there was a blue tinge descending on his normally raspberry red lips.

"Just tell me, why," she repeated. She held it gently in her hands, loose fingers, loose wrists, around waist level. She held it as if it held even less importance to her than the stock she put upon his commands.

"Why can't you just do something because I've said so?" he said, and the chill in blood became...

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We waited for the curtain to go down, some patiently and obliviously to the palpable tension between Fran and I. Once again she'd tried to force me to go into the final act without the correct props. Once again she'd sabotaged, or rather tried to sabotage my costume. But I wouldn't be held back. I was going to upstage her no matter that my backside was revealed to the entire audience. She thought I wouldn't turn and face her? Apparently she was unaware of my tenacity and forgot that I'd seen her in action before. To that end, so to...

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i was playing with me mate cheeseball the fat slob and all of a sudden he came on my face. Peanut butter is chunky, you're fat

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Twist. Turn. Dip. Sweep. All at once, the winds around the ship changed, shifting from a violent storm to a soft breeze. The black plumage of his Tengu Fan remained stock straight, even with the skilled hand moving it with jarring grace to manipulate the winds around them. They crew had all seen the man at work at least once before, but always it was a sight of awe. Not many on the high seas could willingly sail through a tempest and come out of it completely unscathed.

After the tribulation had passed, and the skies parted above into clear...

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"Looking at things changes us so it is impossible to look at anything the same way twice," said Foley.
I did a double take and looked at him again. He had changed: something was sprouting from the top of his head and his eyelids appeared to be melting.
"Is this me or you this time?" I asked him.
He said nothing, but gestured upwards, extending a single finger to the sky above our heads. There was the moon, a milky smudge behind the racing clouds. Suddenly it came into full view and it had changed, too. The moon would never...

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One foot in front of the other. He had to keep going. There was no turning back.

They almost caught up with him several times. In the woods he'd tripped over a branch, sprawled, and felt their hot breath on his back just before he kicked off and escaped. Now he was in the clear, wide open spaces of the school's football field. No obstructions in his path. No cover or refuge in sight.

On foot in front of the other. If he could just keep running for another mile or so, he could make it to the church where...

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