My grandma had this incredible house. Like one of the ones you see in movies. Like, this is going to be a really crazy example, but did you ever see "The Tigger Movie"? Like Winnie the Pooh. There's this part where they're in the attic and I always remember wishing we had an attic with all that cool old stuff to explore in our house. Then I found Grandma's attic and I knew I'd hit something special! There was actually a stand-up mirror covered in a sheet and a few large trunks full of old clothes! So great.

I think...

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I jumped on the bandwagon. Everyone else was going down, and I mean, I thought I knew the basis of the movement, so of course that's what matters, right? So I went downtown. There were all these people there. All this passion. But I slowly realized that I was just there because it was fun. There were a bunch of other kids, my age, maybe older, sort of just there to have a good time, to try and get a rise out of some people. Like people without clothes on, or like doing drugs in the street, really weird stuff...

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"Ohh..." The word escaped my lips as a awe-struck sigh. The island was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. Bulky, mountain-like rocks dotted with dark green trees, surrounded by white sand, and water the color of the clearest, bluest sapphire imaginable. As we flew nearer to it the air became sweet and clear and filled my lungs. The breeze rustled my short brown hair. I tucked myself into a ball and executed a perfect mid-air summer-salt. I watched as the water came closer and closer. This place, I could tell, was magic.

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Peasants.

We all are peasants.

I am a peasant, endlessly tilling the vast land of my master. I have a perpetual inclination to become a slave for lack of education.

Still, I am not ashamed of what I am. My legacy, which I have inherited from my forefathers, will go on for posterity's sake. My sons and daughters will continue to till land. But I guarantee that the land would be theirs to cultivate, for I am about to storm the walls of my master.

May God have mercy on his soul!

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One scoop chocolate, one scoop blood.

I went inside the intensive care unit and felt the humid air. Everyone--mum, Paulie, Randy and grampa--was there. I approached dad's bed and leaned my right ear to his mouth.

He was asphyxiating, and there's no doubt he's going to get through another day. Yet, his words echoed through my head like a whisper resounding inside a cave.

I told him I just did the regular errand and took care of some things for him. He stopped.

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"One scoop chocolate, one scoop..."

"Let me guess, vanilla." the man behind the counter grinned at me.

Was I really so predictable? I felt the colour rise to my cheeks.

"Erm..."

"I was right. I remember." he threw his head back and laughed.

"Actually..."

"2.53 every afternoon. One scoop chocolate and one scoop vanilla. Like clockwork."

He was starting to annoy me now.

"Actually, I was going to ask..."

I stopped. I was going to ask for vanilla. Truth is I only like vanilla and chocolate ice cream. Always have. But now I had started something. Alex was right, I...

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My dad believed the island to be the end of a search for a cure for mom.

The promise of a healer that would finally reverse the soul destroying illness that was taking mom away from us.

Dad didn't care anymore what it would take, money, hope, nervous exhaustion from the endless searching, trying, failing, crying. He had to give it one more go.

Mom wanted to go home as soon as we got into the hotel room. She always wanted to go home even when she was in our house. She could only remember her childhood house and her...

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All Maggie wanted was to get home and curl up with Roger and a cup of tea. Seemingly just as frustrated as she was, the strangely cat-like Roger seemed to hiss from his carrier. Maggie just groaned.

Honestly, how much work could it possibly be to ensure the stuffed animals, flower seeds, scarves, and ceramic knick-knacks she'd purchased for the family didn't contain bombs of any kind?! Truly, Maggie just wondered if they were seeing how far they could push a frazzled looking woman with glasses and a dog carrier. How intimidating could she possibly look? "I never even got...

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Ruby looked out the window and couldn't help but smiling. She was probably much more excited for the first day of school than Ella! The sweet clean little tennis shoes, new notebooks and pencils, pictures by the bus and the classroom door of her little girl in a too-big back pack, even the tears and constant missing, all of it seemed exciting to Ruby. It meant Ella was growing up, and though it hurt beyond description, Ruby was so excited for all of the beautiful new experiences the world was opening up for her little girl.

"Mom?" Ruby turned and...

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"What the hell does that mean!"

Rena tried to understand the words on the paper clutched in her hand as she curled up on the couch. "Gram?" she whispered into the phone, "What did they say?"

"Oh, just a little of this and that, you know, dear. When you get old, they all end up sounding the same. It's always something, honey."

"Geez." Rena breathed for a moment. "I don't even know what to say, Gramma. I wish it wasn't like this. Do you think you'll be able to come visit this year?" Rena immediately regretted the question; it just...

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