It peeled in the air like wind chimes sweetly flowing in the breeze, my brother’s laughter. His curly brown hair was blowing backwards with each push I gave him on the swings, sun-stained from the start of summer, and his skin healthily glowing with a slight tan. Jake loved the swings more than anything, especially the ones on our property, right next to the beach on the ocean, every time you swooped forwards you felt like you flying just as high as the seagulls that crashed into the waves to catch their dinner. Arching downwards into the expanse of blue, before coming out again victorious with a fish in their beaks. I couldn’t blame Jake for loving to swing; he was only four years old; and heck, swinging was something even I still loved to do at the age of sixteen.

“Higher, Kenz, higher!” he squealed as I laughed and gave him an extra extensive push. My nickname Kenz, was practically the only name he knew me by, though my full name was Mackenzie. Mackenzie Lynn Gardens and he was my little brother of thirteen years.

Behind the two of us I heard the shuffling of a picnic blanket being billowed in the summer air, the light laughter coming from our adopted mother: Cynthia. Her and her husband, George having adopted us years ago, and yet it seemed like only a blinks worth of time away.

“Mackenzie Gardens,” the receptionist called out lazily, probably the hundredth name she had had to call out that day. But the moment she looked away from the clipboard in her hand, she saw me standing there in front of the desk, standing tall at the age of 12. She smiled sweetly, her glasses crooking down her nose a bit more than usual. “You have another family here to see you darling,” she said, her southern accent sticking out ever more as she said darling.

I just nodded my response; I didn’t talk much back then, always fearing that my voice would cause people to back away from me all together. Turning I started walking back down the familiar hallways that I had taken so many times to see so many varieties of parents, all waiting to see that perfect child they signed on for. Same wooden boards on the wall that my fingers trailed against as I walked, same plush carpet underneath feet that squished with every step. Room 111. Glancing at the number plates of gold posted on top of every door, I saw I was in the total opposite hall I was supposed to be in, passing room 345. With the silent echo of every one of my footsteps I then suddenly took of at a run, taking every twist and turn the halls threw at me, slowing down in the wake of the occasional nurse who trailed in and out of other rooms. Walls passed in a blur, becoming a tie-die shirt of colors that caused my head to spin and my mind to loose its fine defineness of accuracy.

A giggle passed through my lips: a rare occasion coming from a mouth that usually opened only for food. The peal sounded almost exactly like my little brother’s laughter had started to sound like at only 4 months old.

Almost passing the room I was destined for, I had to backtrack a bit until I reached the right gold plated oak door that loomed in front of me. The happiness felt only moments earlier, slowly started to morph into the sense of fear I had grown all too accustomed to when I met yet another set of parents: eager to see a perfectly symmetrical child with a need to be loved and cared for. I was the opposite of what they usually looked for, my brown hair a scruffy mess on top of my head, cut short and ridden of all the burnt pieces that had been destroyed in the fire that had killed my last pair of caretakers, they had only lasted but a week. And a scar that lined down my jaw, and snaked down to the start of the left side of neck, a permanent mark of what had happened. I didn’t look like that perfect goody-two shoes child that they were hoping for, instead I looked like a lost kid taken straight out of the photos of a gang.

Hesitantly I knocked on the door, my knuckles rapping on the oak sounding much louder than I would have wanted. “Come in Mackenzie,” a voice gently beckoned a few seconds later.

I pushed the door open slightly; peeking first, as I slowly stepped inside and closed the door once more behind me. The usual, the slight intake of breath from the two people seated in the plush blue chairs that seemed to have be gotten out of a sale at a garage sale, then the signature clap of the hand over the mouth, as they took in the sight of my scars. Everyone saw the cosmetic factor of what I was, choosing to ignore the fact that I had been through much more than a child of merely twelve should have seen. They didn’t notice the fact that my eyes were dabbed with fear, grief and loss, or bring out that I was playing the part of a mute, just so I didn’t have to speak in my croak of a voice.

The couple was younger than the rest, both looking around the age of twenty-five. They could have been twins, the only thing negating that fact was that they wore matching wedding bands and their hands were locked in a loving way. Their blue eyes matched their perfectly blonde hair: hers waving down her back to rest at the point in the middle of her back, his chopped stylishly above the ear. Both of their faces were twisted with worry, as if they actually cared.

But their eyes, unlike the rest, held a genuine worriness that was deep enough that it normally couldn’t be faked. But my analysis was cut short when I heard the click of a pen, and saw the lawyer like woman was pushing it forward on top of a stack of papers across the mahogany desk. The blonde ladies hand quickly snatched up the pen, “Yes, I’m certain now, we’ll take her,” she glanced over at her husband who looked back at me before nodding affirmatively, “she’ll be a welcome addition to our home,”

She smiled warmly, before moving her hand to sign lavishly on the line of the paper dotted with an x.

I was shocked, the thought of being adopted had never really crossed my mind in the time I’d been hear, mostly I was just taking the meetings so I didn’t get kicked out of the care facility. Always thinking that my destructive features marked me un-wanted, I had dealt with the looks and the careful gestures. But here was a couple, defying the odds I had set, and taking me despite it all. And after only taking a glimpse at me.

My counselor looked as shocked as I did, but she held it inside much better than I did, my chin could have been grazing on the floor. The man couldn’t take his eyes off me, filled with the same sorrow that was always present in mine.

The papers signed, I was then formally introduced the couple I had started referring as the Blondies. A Mr. and Mrs. Cynthia and George Hildman. The first thing I did when I heard the last name was to seriously say if I could keep my own last name. The question, not entirely meant to be a joke, caused an uproar of laughter within the room, erasing the last trace of tenseness inside of the small enclosed room. “Of course, dear, we’d never take away anything that means so much to you,” George said, his eyes starting to twinkle in a way that I knew I’d grow to be fond of.

With the happiness that had suddenly filled me, I had momentarily forgotten my main reason for being here in the first place, “Where’s Jake?” I asked, worried at the thought of my baby brother being left behind in this place all alone, together we would have been able to take it, but alone both of us were nothing, “I’m sorry, but I will have to refuse being adopted if I can’t take him with me. He’s my only family,” I begged, at the first sign of the couple’s hesitantness at the mention of him. If they would have been able to adopt me: the damaged child, they certainly would have been able to take my brother, the most innocent being I had known, perfect and whole.

Complications had come into play, but in the end, another contract had been brought up as soon as they had saw my darling brother’s sweet sleeping face in his basinet, swaddled in a blue blanket. The way the tuft of dark brown hair was sprouting from his head, gave him the appearance of a newborn chicken, and just as oblivious to the world as one.

Mr. and Mrs. Hildman signed the papers, and on that moment I truly relaxed into the idea of being taken home with them, which was exactly what happened. Walking hand in hand with Cynthia, and George’s arm settled around my shoulder warmly. Jake cradled in the nook of her arm, still sound asleep, as if our whole lives hadn’t just changed forever. I smiled, for the first time in a very long time, I hoped it stay permanent on my face.

“Please, more?” Jake begged, hopping up and down restlessly on one foot then switching rapidly to the other. It was getting late and we were just finishing the last of the food that had turned into a late night picnic instead of an afternoon one. Cynthia and George were sitting near us; on the plaid blanket both looking so perfect in comparison to us, gleaming blonde hair and those brilliant blue eyes. I had never gotten used to calling them mom and dad, and probably never would, it was just too weird with them being only thirteen years older than me.

But there was definitely an affection set aside for both of them, for admiring me when I was nothing and loving me when I needed it most. Now almost four years later, we stood on the same lot and home we had come to since the very first day we were taken into their guardianship. Having just turned sixteen only a few weeks ago, I stood even taller than I had when I was twelve, but not tall enough that I towered over everyone. The scar still ran down my neck, telling me that it would never disappear, a forever reminder. But it had faded, just a reminder of my past, something that distinguished who I was and what path I would be taking in my future. My hair had grown out into a luxurious brown, but after my fourteenth birthday, I decided that keeping it short looked best.

“Now Jake, maybe tomorrow honey, its getting late,” Cynthia tried to reason, starting to pack up the last of the food that remained surrounding us.

“But mommy!” he whined, his foot hopping stopping so he could slam a heel into the grass, but the fight was instantly won by me the moment he caught on to my sidelong glance.

The grass felt cool against my bare legs, I had been wearing shorts in the celebration of the beginning of summer and long warm nights. The slight sting of sunburn along my shoulders was now appearing, from all those hours of playing out in the sun with Jake, a never ending source of energy that was combined with that endless imagination of his. I would apply aloe later, but at the moment I was just enjoying the bliss of it.

Noticing the fact that I could feel, the simple fact that I was allowed to stay down on this sphere of an earth just a bit longer so I could have this experience. I felt ashamed and blessed at the same time.

I wanted this day to never end, this perfection to never change. Have it set on an endless rewind that could play in front of my eyes whenever I felt like it, just when my life had finally taken a turn, a turn for the better in fact. I wanted it to stay this way.

Just as the blanket had been folded up, I got that itching sensation in the back of mind. The kind that made sure you know knew you were forgetting something, something important. The grass continued to tickle my legs, and I pulled them up to my chest quickly so I could not have all my nerves on end while I tried to think through my subconscious. I ran through today’s events, my good memory choosing selectively to turn on at points, but today came in pretty clear.

The concert! The moment I remembered I was up and on my feet in seconds, almost too fast as I was about to lose my balance, but George was quicker, grabbing my elbow in just enough to time to keep me from toppling back down. I scrambled over to Cynthia, my watch lying beside her, which I had taken it off when me and Jake had decided to go walk down by the beach. “Shoot, its eight already. I gotta go,”

“For what,” Cynthia asked, now a little worried, but I just waved her off, the two of them got worried too fast for everything.

“Nothing much, the concert me and Casey were supposed to go to starts at ten, and she’s supposed to pick me up soon.” I called out a quick goodbye to my makeshift family, making sure to pause long enough to kiss Jake on the head and promise I’d read him his bedtime story tomorrow. George and Cynthia waved, but Jake had already taken their attention away, as soon as our embrace was over running back down to the swing set, bringing the two of them in tow. I chuckled as I made my way up the hill towards the house at a quick pace.

The back screen door was opened slightly, the hinge never really working properly, and creaked loudly when I flung it open to scurry up the stairs. The stairs passed my feet two at a time, my patience to minimal to be able to take them at a normal route. My feet were still wet from the sprinkler outside, and I was lucky I didn’t slip back down them all crashing into the first floor after the decline of all the stairs. I slid into my room, managing to stop at the edge of the carpet that was laid out in the middle of my oak floored room.

It would take no time at all to make my hair presentable and my make-up near perfect, but Casey was never late and always expected me to be as punctual as her. Which was a hard feat to accomplish. The concert was a half hours drive away and we didn’t know how long traffic was going to hold us back, but she couldn’t get off her shift at her new summer job soon enough to be able to take off any sooner.

Casey was one of the first and few friends I’d had in the past four or so years. She saw past all the sadness that had been built up in me for so long, and tried to make me happy when it was clear that I wasn’t. Something about her spirit that had made her wishes come true, and slowly as our friendship grew, so did my optimism about everything. I never went to normal school, so making other friends was out of the question really, having been homeschooled mostly because of the first year’s here my lack of speaking in total. But she went out of her way to take time out of her days to spend as much of it as she could with me, and for that I was extremely grateful.

I plastered on the mound of make-up that had gathered on my dresser onto my face, making sure I didn’t look too much like a clown. But all the extra make-up was really needed because of the scar that ran on my neck, it helped get rid of the boldness of the dark line across my only slightly tanned skin. It never really worked, instead it only got brighter a bit, and I sighed before stepping in front of the mirror. The car honked outside, an already impatient Casey wailing on her high pitched hymn that erupted from her horn. I was 5’10”, tall but truly I didn’t care, I had always been well muscled so it made up for the lankiness that usually came with girls who had the extra height. But on the other hand, I wasn’t one of those muscle monsters that looked like their face got plastered on top of a bull’s body. My skin was lightly tanned, that never seemed to go fully away year round, but got darker as the summer proceeded. My face wasn’t something I usually liked to look at but I had to or it would look worse than it already was. The scar ran down my jaw line, and up my ear, making an intricate looking design if you looked at it hard enough. My caretakers had said that it looked like someone had placed a heated knife to my face, but the details had faded over the years. I had hardened over all my hardships and my face fully reflected that, the edges growing more defined, and my eyes, now that I noticed had become a steely silver. They used to be a bright green, but must have slowly morphed since I was adopted, just another thing I’d have to deal with. But my hair was pretty much the only thing normal now about my face, it spiked in all directions a short mass of brown on top of my head.

The horn honked again, she was getting annoyed, so I sighed and snatched up the small handbag that was laid across my chair, before scrambling back down the stairs.

“Don’t you think this is a bit loud,” I yelled over the booming speakers. Casey had managed to snag front row seating to one of her favorite bands, the name I had conviently forgotten, it probably had gotten beat out of my mind with all the base beats that shook the frames of our seats and the screaming fans that were behind us, swaying with the music like a sea at storm.

“Not really, I’ve heard louder,” she screamed back, her hands raised high above her head to sway methodically with the cords of the guitar that blasted near us. If she was obsessed with one thing—except being punctual—it’d have to be music, she knew everything that played and every single that was coming out by her favorites, like I said, it was an obsession.

Loud singing and extreme beating of drums weren’t my thing, but I withstood it because it meant I could get out with one of my only friends. I sat back down in my seat, half soaked in spilled soda and crunchy with popcorn or whatever food had been thrown across a section of the crowd. Even just being in here could make you start breathing heavily and have your heart beat frantically, both causing my head to ache. The last song finished and an explosion of cheers and screams of ‘I love you’ and such ran through the crowd rapidly. Oh my…

Then came the kicker, they announced they’d like for some of the first row fans to join them at the after-party, their tickets working as a pass. “Great, now I’m going to get mugged for my ticket…” I muttered as the crowd started rushing for the exits. Casey was just a bundle of energy, thanks to the gallon of Mountain Dew she’d consumed in the first half of the concert, after that I had cut her off but it had been too late for recovery. “Oh! Kenz, we just have to go!” she said excitedly tugging on my arm towards the exits.

“We can’t, we have curfew,” I groaned, hadn’t I suffered through enough of this loud music, my ears were ringing.

“Please, please, please, I’m begging you!” she said, and she was begging as we entered the lobby, practically on her hands and knees.

I sighed as I looked at my watch, glowing in the dark of the corner of the lobby. 11:50, my curfew was at midnight, but I was a pretty good kid, what could an hour over hurt? “Fine, but we have one hour, that’s it,” I said sternly, but she probably didn’t hear as she was already jumping in the air with joy, rambling on and on about how she would just have to get an autograph from every person in the band.

The after-party was just a few blocks away, the darkness and chilly air was enough to get me high-tailing it along with Casey who ignored it all and just wanted to get to the party. Out of the hundreds of concerts she had been to (and counting) she had never been invited to an after-party run by the band. This was to be written down in the history books.

Big, tall and buff, the bouncers at the door were looking gruff with their black earpieces, most likely connected to the leader of security. A small line off people were waiting outside the doors, but there was a crowd at least triple the size pounding on the gates further back, waving their tickets in the air, but security was pushing them back. “Are you sure we are getting in?” I asked, eying the bouncers nervously, the begging fans crying out to be let in.

Casey didn’t even flinch, “Of course, we have front row tickets, don’t we?” she said with one of her comfortable smiles.

“Are they real front row tickets…?” I asked.

“Of—why wouldn’t they be?” she gasped, glaring at me.

“Well, I never know, you have gotten fake ones off the internet…” I said trailing off.

“I can’t believe you’d think that off me—“ she was starting on a rant when the bouncer asked gruffly for our tickets.

We both flashed our tickets after I searched my purse for a few moments, getting annoyed sounds from Casey. The door was opened for us and we stepped into the club. This was going to be worse than the concert, I could tell that right away, the deep bass beats hitting me with full force by the first step I took into the place. At least there wasn’t much screaming in the people part, but there was a bunch of conversations going on around us. My shoulders sagged; I was going to have such a headache later. The music just seemed to make Casey’s excitement worse, kicking it into high gear as she jumped in place with the six inch high heels she had decided to wear tonight. I was already regretting my heels, and they were only about three inches, pinching my feet painfully, I could only imagine what she must have been feeling.

“There they are!” she squealed, eying a table over back in the corner near the DJ, three guys and a girl that I recognized from on stage. She was clearly wanting to go over there, so I shoved her shoulder a bit, “Go ahead, I’m just going to grab a drink and sit down a bit,” she squeaked out a thank you then tried squirming through the mass of people dancing to the beat of the speakers.

I did the same, except towards the bar; which had all non-alcoholic drinks since basically everyone here was underage. Way to take the fun out of partying. After being nearly knocked off my high-heeled feet half a dozen times I finally retrieved a drink and slinked back towards a round table near the walls. Scooting myself up onto the high top seat I finally relaxed, closing my eyes for a second.

As predicted a headache was already forming, my head throbbing with the ever loud beating of my heart in my ears. Taking casual sips of whatever I had gotten from the bar—I was pretty sure the waiter hadn’t really heard me when I asked for a ginger ale, but it tasted similar to one—I sat with my head in my hands, feet absentmindedly tapping to the regular beat of the music. This wasn’t something I planned on doing again, even though I’d probably have to do a crap-load of convincing to Casey. And most likely I’d lose.

The song changed, slower and less loud, making me sigh softly, at least that was one less contributor to my increasing aching in my head. Finally I lifted my head to survey the room idly. People were everywhere, every crook and cranny of the place at least had some couple dancing, some group laughing, or someone going totally crazy with caffeine and adrenaline. I re-spotted Casey, still waiting patiently in line for her autographs, and I was pretty sure she would get them to tattoo their names across her skin if she could. She was chatting it up with a guy behind her, some short blonde guy with a big enough ego to be seen from here.

A big—cheesy if you ask me—disco ball hung in the middle of the club dance floor sending scatters of bright lights across everyone in the darkness, allowing glimpses of the flashes of people’s movements. My eyes swept across the crowd, scanning for anyone else that might recognize me from the city, even though I wasn’t there much often, I was ridiculed for my scar a lot in bright lights. That’s why the only concerts I ever let Casey tug me to had to be at night, it was the only time I really let people see me in public, where darkness could make me look almost normal.

But in my scanning, my eyes caught involuntarily on a group of guys, laughing and a couple of then hitting others in the group on the backs in a friendly clichéd way. A variety of heights and hair colors stood out among them, and some of the voices I could hear from across the disco-lit and speaker wrought floor. Momentarily after I noticed the whole group, I managed to zero in on the one who was more like a background guy, sitting at the round table they were sharing for their drinks. His black hair hung in front of his eyes as he laughed at some joke that was told, looking down at his drink before leaning down to take a sip. Just the movement of his lips and my mind went rapid trying to decipher what kind of amazing voice went along with that laugh.

I could feel the corner of my lips tug up in the first smile I had managed to muster all night, just at the sight of him laughing. Why was that? I had no idea. My body shifted slightly away from the wall, and my own round table, so it was facing him a little more. Was I really about to go talk to him? I was never an outright person; sure I might be impervious to a heck of a lot of judgment that had been automatically passed onto me over the years, but approaching a guy?

But then came the kicker, as if he had felt my eyes lingering on him, he looked up in my direction. It was like someone took a baseball bat to my chest, the moment his silver eyes met mine. I’m not talking gray, not talking very light blue, no they were silver. Like the moonlight when it cast over the sea, a reflection that sucked you in and made you feel at peace. I remembered how I’d seen my own eyes a silver in the mirror, but they were nothing in comparison to his, there was a fire in his eyes that was unexplainable. After the initial shock of his eyes, I realized that indeed he had caught me staring and I snapped my head back to facing my drink, my whole body turning back inwards.

Hmm… this ginger ale looked awfully interesting… yeah right. My cheeks turned a dull red, at the way his lips had been turning up at the corner too, in an all knowing smirk. Great, now he probably was gaining a boat-load of confidence, thinking he even caught the scarred girl’s eyes. But with looks like that, didn’t he deserve that kind of confidence to go with them? Nah, that would just make him obtain the higher-than-thou syndrome.

And now I was contemplating his personality? Based only on his looks… I’ve seriously gone off the deep end. I stayed frozen like that, not daring lifting my eyes off the table, instead drawing smudged images with my fingers on the glass surface of the table. Seeing my legs tightly wound underneath around the bar-stool like chair. I waited around twenty minutes, or more appropriately around seven songs worth, hoping as much as I could that he just dismissed it all as a freak thing. Really, it kinda was.

Finally I looked back up, not seeing him at the table I sighed inwardly with relief. He was gone, that maybe meant he had gone off to another group, totally not noticing the little freak girl who had a weird interest in silver eyes.

But I just couldn’t be that lucky—my eyes caught on another flash of silver, and I noticed why he wasn’t seated at his table.

He was making his way across the dance floor, right towards me.

My eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights, and without thinking, I booked it out of my seat and into the moving crowd. My heels didn’t enjoy the sudden force of being put into movement and managed to almost cause me to do a face plant on the dance floor, but I grabbed onto a random persons shoulder and up-righted myself, “Sorry!” I mumbled, but they didn’t hear, they were already back to dancing. I needed to find Casey.

The line that lead to the band members was empty, seems like they had stopped signing autographs for the evening. But then Casey should have been heading back to me? Instead she had just disappeared off the club floor. Where was she?

Then, as soon as I had lost track of her, I picked up on her blonde head bobbing in the crowd nearing the entrance to a separate room. I ran as fast as I could, barely catching her before she stepped in the other room, “Case, we have to go,” I said, grabbing hold of her elbow, causing her to whip around. In front of her the members of the band were lounging in the backroom, furnished plushly with rocker décor.

Her blonde hair whipped around, still perfectly curled like she had to have it, but an abnormal dirty look graced her face, “Now? I’m just starting to have fun…” she said, her voice lower and somewhat huskier than normal.

“No, we have to go now!” I said, starting to really get nervous. Why couldn’t she just sense my urgency? But her eyes, normally a crystal blue, darkened. My hand almost voluntarily retracted from her arm as shivers wracked my body once.

“Then you can find someone else to drive you home. Leave me to my fun, and go be rain on someone else’s parade.” She sneered before walking into the room after the band members, flashing me a dark smirk before slamming the door behind her.

I stood there, totally and utterly shocked. Never, in the years I had known her, had she ever done or said something like that. The words were a fresh slap in the face, and I stumbled back a step. That abuse of words caused something to snap in me, something that had been very delicate to start with, but now was non-existent. I hadn’t realized how much Casey was my rock in all of this, and there was proof that something had drastically changed in this.

Tears welled in my eyes, as it hit me. That couldn’t have been the Casey I had known, could it? The music was even more demanding of my attention, and I rushed to the exit. Anything to get out of this place. The nearest exit though had been a fire-exit, and while the tears swam in my eyes, partially blinding me, I slammed into the door. Alarms went off inside the room, and there was an uproar of screams, before it was roughly cut off with a slamming of the steel door behind me. Silence enveloped me, except for the clicking off my heels on the cement. My make-up, what little of it I had managed, was a hopeless cause as my tears melted through it.

My legs failed me, and I crumpled in the corner of the alley I was in, my tears and sobs my only company out here. I had spent so long building up all my emotions, the depression, the anger, the sadness, all of it, I had shoved behind a dam. And then with one fatal swoop Casey had managed to crack it up the side, unleashing a whole wave of emotions that hit me at once. I was sure that no thing or person, could ever totally make that block go away, but she had sure put a huge dent in it. Nothing seemed to hurt worse than at this moment, the tears came long and hard, until I didn’t have anymore and was left to dry sobs.

But even after that my voice could only last so long, and eventually I just was sitting there in the empty alley, the lonely corner streetlight flickering in the night, before puttering out and giving in to the utter darkness. It was welcoming though, just as must as the gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees caressing my face even from back here. When I could get up—which involved peeling my heels off my feet before being able to stand—I felt achy and sore all over. An emotional release like that demanded a price. No one had bothered to check up on me out here, not the bouncers or Casey—who knew exactly how I would react to those words. I guess why should they, no one really needed to care for me, my parents didn’t, leaving me alone in this world to take care of my little brother, and I didn’t even dare think of my first set of care-takers who had perished in a fire months after that, leading me to have to cave and go to an orphanage.

I figured I should start walking, I had no transportation home, and going back in and beating the keys out of Casey didn’t seem like a viable solution. So I made my way out of the alley and out onto the street sidewalks. It was late—I would have been late if I had taken off my car, but that had taken an hour to get here, I didn’t even want to dare to think how long it would take me by foot.

Slowly, but surely I relaxed at the symphony of the leaves in the trees that bordered the streets. I strolled past all the houses and businesses, until I was only surrounded by the woods, which helped even more, towns always made me feel antsy. The woods were thick and lively, filled with green foliage and trees as tall as houses, coming into a restful canopy. The wildlife seemed to be at rest, in those mere hours after midnight and before dawn, as if settling down for a good sleep, so they would be wide awake for the morning salutations from the birds. Fireflies flickered past my face, making a ghost of a smile spread across my lips, but not enough for my mood to be lightened.

I heard a wind chime in the distance, making everything that had been quite and enjoyable suddenly eerie and menacing. All of a sudden I wasn’t just another person walking, but I felt something similar to…prey? Like a predator lurked somewhere around me, eyes locked my walking form. I did a quick 360, making sure no one had followed me. Nobody. But the chimes faded away as if moving farther from me.

Then a low growl grated across the silence that it had left, and I froze, listening intently. It didn’t repeat itself, but I didn’t wait for it to have the chance to instead I picked up my pace. Stupid. How could I be such an idiot to walk home, (alone!) past all of these woods, there could be a freaking rapist/serial killer out there, just waiting. I would have been better off getting a ride from a random citizen in the club.

There was a crunch of leaves underfoot, but glancing down I wasn’t walking on fallen leaves, and my breath stopped. They continued, something was most definitely out there. My instincts took charge and I ran, fast and furious, getting the heck away from there and whatever was with it. But no matter how fast and far I ran there always seemed to be that crunching right behind me. The beating of my heart, thudded wetly in my ears, my feet slapping loudly on the cement, picking up stones on the soles of my feet, but I didn’t care.

After running until I couldn’t anymore, I paused. The woods still looked the same as they had, but I was sure I had ran a decent distance. My stood, with my hands on my knees trying to desperately catch my breath, scanning around for the source of the crunching leaves. But another low growl, louder and closer erupted close to me, causing me to leap out of my skin.

This time, I could hear the breathing next to me, evenly and solidly, as if they hadn’t just run the same distance I had. Two silver eyes appeared in the space of woods beside me, and I stumbled off the curb. Freezing in fright I witnessed as the eyes became not only a face, but the face of a great wolf. All my muscles screamed to run away, save myself, but I was frozen in place, truly a piece of prey in front of the predator. Its steps were slow and deliberate, way too calculated for the normality of the wolves that ran around our property at home every day. The leaves of the bushes rustled as it made its way towards me, and onto the sidewalk. It had a looming presence, easily twice as big as the ones we had seen, and its eyes, silver and menacing took me in, in a way that was way more than animal. Baring its sharp canines, I gulped at the way they looked as if they could tear through skin and bone as if it were butter.

With its presence right in front of me, I almost didn’t notice the screeching of tires behind me. That didn’t stop the wolf in its proceedings, but it became more ridged and aware. Its eyes flicked to the car coming to a stop behind me, but quickly returned hungrily.

Then before I could take in a breath, a large, tall form stood in front of me. No streetlights were provided to illuminate their identity but I could make out their outline in the darkness. I wanted to shout at them to run away, this was a dangerous animal, but I stayed mute. A deep, rumbling growl emerged from the man’s chest—he was a man, I knew that much—before a feral snarl ripped from his lips. It was dark, it was menacing, and it had a demand in it that was clear to the wolf. It shrank back a bit, its hackles rising, but only giving a hapless snarl before disappearing back into the foliage.

My heart wouldn’t restart, shock consuming me, and my knees gave out for the second time tonight. But this time the concrete wasn’t the thing stopping my fall; instead two strong arms prevented me from falling the whole way. Warmth enveloped me were his arms were settled on me, my skin feeling it beneath my dress and small jacket.

Two silver, and very concerned eyes settled over me, “Are you alright?” he asked, but no answer came from my lips, only the chattering of my teeth in fear.

The warmth spread further when he picked me up into his arms, my face against his chest, the material of his shirt spread beneath my finger tips. I hadn’t realized how cold I had been, my fingers felt freezing in comparison.

The car was warm to, as he laid me gently across the leather back seat of the car, that was humming as the engine runned. Driver’s door opened and then shut, the glow of the dashboard illuminating the face of the guy who’d seen me staring at him in the club. He ran a hand through his black hair, causing it to stand up on end on his head. His silver eyes looked worried, and yet determined.

The fear slowly left me, just as the tears had, and sleep took both of their place, my eyelids drooped, my mind not even registering embarrassment for having been found by this particular guy. He put the car into drive and started driving away and down the road, “She’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine…” his voice drifted off as I lost consciousness.

A tiny smile spread across my lips, because for some silly reason I was glad. Glad that I now knew what the sound of that voice was, the voice that had belonged to the form of his laughing lips.

Sunlight shown through my eyelids making it hard to squeeze them shut enough to be enveloped in darkness. I just wanted to stay asleep… I pleaded in my mind as I groaned and turned over on the mattress so my face was buried in my pillow. The ponytail that held my air suddenly let my neck be out in the open to be struck by the cool air coming down from the fan that hung off the high ceiling. For some reason there were no blankets on my bed to keep me from getting chilled by it, so I gave up on being able to go back into my slumber.

Muscles popped as I stretched my arms high above my head, going so far as to brush my fingertips against the smooth oak of my headboard. The bed beneath me was long since formed to my body, having always curled up in the same position every night, despite the way I fell asleep, I always woke up curled into a ball and on my side. Cracking open an eye I glanced at the open curtains on my window, that lead out into a small balcony that was used more than the room itself. It was always easy to just lock myself out there on summer nights and lay under the stars as if I belonged there. The beige curtains fluttered in the light summer breeze, bringing in the sweet smell of sea water from the cliffs and the musty scent of the forests near-by.

Taking a look around the room, everything seemed in place, just another normal day in the life of me. But as I sat up, a wicked headache was enough to remind me that last night had most certainly been anything but ordinary. I was still in the same clothes that I had gone to the concert in last night, all rumpled up from sleep and my fingers picked off a piece of leaf that was stuck to the hem of them. My heels were laid neatly near my bedside, standing at attention, waiting to be put on. I snorted, there was no chance I was wearing those things anytime soon, my feet were so sore that I wasn’t sure if they could handle just regular sneakers that I wore every day. My mind was struggling with the details of what exactly had gone down last night. Fleeting snapshots of memory reminded me that I had gotten into a fight with Casey, but after that was a blur. Now I was positive I had been drinking something besides ginger ale in the club last night. And they said they were alcohol free…

The clock was silent, and I was glad that I had shut off the alarm the moment summer came around the corner, or else I would have been woken up a good four hours ago in a much worse mood than I was in now. But at least, good chances were, a nice long cool shower would help clear things up.

So I peeled off all the clothes, chucking them into the dirty clothes hamper in the corner of the room with accuracy and ducked into my bathroom. The house was big, and considering both Cynthia had no job, and George did some sales thing from home, I don’t know how they managed the money. First idea was that they had money from dead parents and such, but there was just so much of it. We were practically isolated back here in the middle of nowhere, far away from any other houses and any sort of entertainment. It had its ups and downs. The shower was cool to the touch, just the way I wanted it, and felt so good cascading down my back which ached dully. Probably hadn’t slept all that good last night, because my calves were a bit sore too, of course, that could just be because of all the running I did last night. That tidbit came bubbling up in my subconscious; I had been running from something. But what had it been?

“Mackenzie?” a voice called from the bedroom, and I peeked out of the shower, my head all lathered in shampoo. “Yeah?” I called back over the roar of the water pouring down the drain.

“I’ll just wait until you’re done with your shower…” It was Cynthia, though I had no idea why she’d want me. Probably to remind me that it wasn’t healthy to stay up that late and sleep in so long. It’d mess up my sleeping habits. She was so a mom.

Hurriedly I rinsed all of the suds out of my hair, and sleeked it through with the conditioner before stepping out of the shower, wrapping a big white towel tight around me. I walked out of the bathroom while using another towel to shake my hair dry. Cynthia cleared her throat, and I pulled it away from my face, the dark curls falling in my face partly in my eyesight. She was sitting on my bed, relaxed and yet… not at the same time, her hands clasped tightly on her lap. Her blonde hair was pin straight, falling down her back till it reached the middle of it, and her clear blue eyes analyzed me as if I were an experiment.

“How was your night?” she asked, her voice calm and soothing as always, but something was setting me off on her today, and I took a miniscule step backwards, away from her. She usually minding my personal space, and I don’t remember her even being in my room for the past two years, just staying on the outskirts. But here she was, sitting on my bed, all of a sudden asking intently on my night. “Fine, I guess,” I lied, tightening the towel on me further, afraid it was going to fall off as I inched towards the closet to get dressed. She didn’t object so I quickly spun in there, coming out minutes later in jeans and a white t-shirt, my hair threatening to soak the neckline of the shirt, but I didn’t mind.

The second time I was welcomed into her presence, I noticed something different. My nose wasn’t clogged with the scent of shampoo and the room seemed to fill with a different type of smell. Strong and seductive it tickled my senses, but in most definitely not a good way, it stank of overused perfume. But Cynthia never used perfume, and I doubt she managed to spritz some foreign stuff on her in the short time I had vanished into the closet. I guess in another sense, it would’ve been mouth watering, but it came off sickly sweet making my stomach churn and my insides twist with each other. Slowly my hands closed into fists as I was overwhelmed with the smell, trying to bite back any remark on it, maybe it was just me?

She smiled sweetly, her perfect white teeth flashing, “You arrived a bit late last night… something happen?” she questioned further, not letting it go like she’d usually do. But there was a big chance this was just a head-in to the big ‘sleeping-in, staying-up-late’ speech, so I relaxed a bit. I just shaked my head, “Nope, just lost track of time, me and Case,” my mouth lingered on her name, even in nickname form, hoping it didn’t come out like acid. “hung out with the band and had a blast, you know,” I lied again, reaching down to pull some sneakers from down under the bed. They were well worn and starting to fray at the tips, but no matter how many times George offered to pay for new ones, I always insisted these were my favorites.

Cynthia stayed silent and I looked up to see her glancing around the room, deciphering my words through the appearance of it. Of course my room was always in pristine condition, not like most teenagers, I guess I could say I never felt totally at home either, but then again, I couldn’t remember what home even felt like anymore. With her blue eyed gaze directed away from me, I allowed my eyes to linger on her. Her skin stood out in the morning sunlight, looking strikingly pale in the yellow bath of light. It seemed almost translucent and clear, unblemished and perfect everywhere the paleness of it showed up as the clothes didn’t cover. Then she turned her head back towards me, the swooshing of her hair sending another blast of the scent my way, almost causing me to half-gag, half-snarl. I bit both back, but her eyes widened at the choked sound the emanated from my throat.

I coughed out I would just be getting breakfast, before bolting out of my room, leaving her there sitting silently on my bed, tracing circles absentmindedly on the sheets. The air seemed to clear once I was away from her presence and I relaxed a ton, allowing myself to take a first deep breath since hearing her voice from the shower.

It was so unusual, this reaction from being in her presence, before yesterday she had always smelled so good, like lilacs on a warm summer day, the scent wafting in the perfect degree to your nose. And the smile that had always calmed me in the past years I’d been here, suddenly seemed less calming and more animalistic, her pearly teeth predatory in her perfect mouth that curved upwards on her red lips.

I shook my head once more, it must be just something whack about my senses today, it’d go back to normal soon enough.

There was a splash as I walked into the kitchen, and milk splattered onto the counter. Jake’s face was in total surprise, his little mouth in the perfect shape of an ‘o’. He heard me walk in and whipped his head around, trying not to look guilty but the cheerios that were littered along with the milk on the table proved otherwise, “I dropped the spoon,” he said quietly and I smiled, unable to stay mad at him, even if I never was.

I snatched up the paper towels near the sink, ruffling his carpet of brunette curly hair on top of his head as I passed by, “It’s alright, just be more careful next time,” he nodded instantly, and tried getting his spoon out from the depths of the bowl of milk and little cereal life rings. “Here, you can use this,” I handed him another spoon from the drawer, “Just eat and when the cereal and milk are all gone you can get the spoon,”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, concentrating on his food, so he didn’t spill it again. My stomach growled impatiently and I sifted around the kitchen scouring for my own food. The whole room smelled of campfires and damp wood that seemed to emanate from Jake’s direction, as he stared stubbornly at his spoon, daring it to act out. Decidedly I liked that scent, it reminded me of a distant memory that I connected with the word ‘home’. Home, something I have never really had. Sure this was a good place to live and everything; I was surrounded by a loving couple who had our best interests in heart most of the time. But it could never really be called home, I always felt as if I was on edge in this house. I had gotten used to it of course; you really needed to, to have lived here as long as I did. But I could always pack up and leave. In my definition, home should be where you always wanted to stay; it was supposed to make you feel safe and secure.

I looked around the spacey kitchen, taking in all the oak doors to the cabinets and the shiny appliances. Yes this was a house, but most definitely not home.

When I was a bit younger, I’d always picture a future where child services couldn’t bother me for being out and on my own. Not having to depend on someone else to keep me afloat, legally. That when I turned eighteen I’d take Jake and go start a whole new life for ourselves. That was before I’d ever truly warmed up to George and Cynthia.

Speak, and they shall appear, I thought as George came waltzing into the kitchen, an empty glass in his hand. I gave a tight smile to him, that could easily be mistaken as morning tiredness, but it really was because of the smell he brought into the room. The same scent that had made me nauseas when I was around Cynthia, the same one that made me want to snarl and growl like an animal.

What was wrong with me?

“Up at the crack of noon I see?” George commented with a chuckle as he passed stepped onto the linoleum.

“Yeah…” I croaked out, snatching a glass bowl from a top shelf.

He ruffled Jake’s hair as he rounded the island, that made Jake perk up, “Hey!” he protested, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. Sure he said nothing when I did it, but with others he was just a bit more hesitant. I smiled a little genuinely this time.

But then George rounded further, and he passed me, his arm brushing mine. It was like being shocked, and dipped in a pool of cold water, the touch seeping all the way to my bones. Shivers erupted across my body, and my free hand coiled within itself, nails digging deeply into my skin. It was like I lost complete control and whipped around, a rough snarl ripping from my throat, as the bowl flung from my hand straight for his face. At least that’s where I had predicted it would have gone, but realizing what was happening at the last possible moment, my hand stopped short and the glass bowl shattered against the wall, missing George’s head by a mere inch.

Then there was silence, my arm caught in mid-swing, frozen in place in shock. Giving a quick glance at Jake to make sure he was alright, I saw his eyes were trained on the spot that the glass had shattered, his spoon clattered into his cereal again as his chin was practically down to the counter. George stayed still for a few moments, before turning around, eyes wide in—was it fear? I would be fearful if I were him.

“I’m so—“ I started to say, unfreezing and clasping both hands around my mouth. Oh god, what had I done?

“What the hell just happened?” he yelled, not angry but very loud. I gulped before considering my answer, “I saw a spider…?” I squeaked out from my mouth, muffled by my hands.

He seemed flabbergasted, “A spider?”

“Yeah…”

“So you threw a glass bowl at it?!” he screamed, setting his glass down from semi-shaking hands.

“…I thought it was going to jump at you?” I lied, his tone seeming to boil my blood and despite my utter astonishment and humiliation of what I had just done—the sound of his voice made me want to do it again. But not miss this time.

These feelings just made everything worse and I struggled not to cry out how sorry I was, because I’d know it come out in a snarl and probably with a different choice of words. George took a deep breath, leaning against the counter, giving a good look at the shattered pieces of glass that glinted in the sunlight streaming through the window, creating a rainbow dancing across the wall and silver appliances.

“I guess I better go get a dust pan to clean this up…” George said, sounding better. He’d calmed down, that was good. I’d never done anything to make either one of my adopted parents mad at me, and I was glad that he didn’t have anger issues or anything. “Don’t look for anymore spiders… oh and if you want cereal? Use a plastic bowl,” he said before leaving the room silently.

I let out a shuddering breath, almost losing my balance and managing to collapse onto the barstool right next to Jake. Closing my eyes I ran a hand through my hair coming up short as always. The kitchen was silent, imitating the way the whole house seemed to never have any real noise in it.

“Are you alright, Kenzie?” Jake asked a little shakily. I looked up at him through my hands and the serious concerned look on his little four year old face crumpled my heart like paper.

“Oh, honey… yes. I’m fine,” I cooed, and he wasted no time crawling from his seat and onto my lap. His tiny warm body brought a bit of peace to me as I rocked gently with him in my arms. Jake hadn’t ever seen me be so out of control either, I’m sure it would have scared me to pieces if I had saw something like that at his age.

“You looked mad, real mad,” Jake mumbled into my shirt.

“No, I’m not mad,” I said softly.

“Good, because I don’t know what that spider ever did to you to make you so mad…” I laughed, releasing the rest of the tension in my body. George had been gone for a good fifteen minutes before I decided that I better take Jake up to his room, he was already growing tired in my arms. Lifting him up easily, I carried him out of the kitchen and up the stairs like I’d done hundreds of times before, stepping in all the right places so I missed all the creaks and moans of the wood.

Jake stayed perfectly still in my arms, careful not to jostle me as I pushed his door open with my back. His room was dark except for the light that was partially showing through the closed curtains, it automatically made you want to lay down in the peaceful atmosphere and take a long nap. Smiling softly I laid him down in his bed, his little eyes closed and I pulled the rocket ship blanket over him.

Just as I walking away to leave him to sleep he sat up, “Kenz?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t read me a story last night like you said you would… can I have it now?”

I smiled again, “Sure,” and leaned down to pick up the only book that he liked to be read. You’d think after such a time, a kid would get sick of getting read the same thing over and over again. But no, Jake had always been easy to deal with and always asked for the same thing.

But just as per usual he fell asleep half-way through the story and I set it back down again. We were both in his bed, me sitting against the headboard and him using my lap as a pillow, his toy teddy bear stuffed under his arm. It was so calm in here, the window cracked open so the chirps off birds and rustle of leaves could be heard. That alone made it more comforting than the rest of the house. Silence got to be too unnerving after awhile.

An extra sweet breeze blew across the window, carrying the sound of leaves turning over in the wind and all I could think of was the guy from last night. The way I had run down the sidewalk for seemingly forever and confronted by that large wolf animal. He had been my hero and stepped in front of me. The growl that had ripped from his throat had sounded so primal, so animalistic, and yet so protective. It relayed in my mind, each time bringing more comfort to my still body. His deep voice as it had murmured in the dark of the car that I’d be alright, it made it seem like nothing would ever happen bad again to me as long as I was with him.

But here I was, not even knowing his name. I’d probably never see him again… probably never relish in the presence of that voice again. That voice and that heart-warming laugh.

Pulling away lightly from our embrace, I set Jake fully on his bed to sleep, suddenly needing to see more than just hear the sounds of outside. I leaned down and kissed the top of his head, breathing in his homey scent, “Love you, Jake,”

In his sleep he mumbled something back, but just turned over to snuggle deeper into the sheets. My sweet, innocent little brother. Most people couldn’t say their sibling was an angel, but Jake truly was.

After shutting his door quietly I hurried downstairs, wanting to break out into the outdoors. Decidedly, the back door in the kitchen was the closest so I passed through there, the glass had been cleared and it was as if nothing had ever happened. If only I could make myself believe that…

It was like a breath of sweet relief when I reached outside, the breeze tussling my hair softly and my bare feet nestled themselves in the green grass. A tinge of salt drifted from the sea where we had picnicked yesterday. No matter how I felt in the house, it always seemed like the outdoors was a little bit more like home than the giant mansion, where George and Cynthia could walk through for days without seeing each other. I swear I wondered what they did before having us, but never asked a single question. It was best not to push them too far so they sent us back.

Glancing back at the empty looking house, I took off down the hill at a running start, blurring through the open field towards the trees. I had a swing out there, that I’d constructed secretly. No one knew about it, not even Jake, he had the swing set by the cliff. This one was mine.

The further I got away from the property the more I felt like I needed to get there, it wasn’t a want anymore, it was a need. Everything was so intense today, the feelings, the smells, the instincts. My body was running mad, and I was giving into it for now. I guess it was better than smashing either George’s or Cynthia’s face with another glass bowl.

Getting there, I collapsed into the swing, nudging myself backwards. Two years, and I’d be hopefully out of here. I’d take Jake with me, and we’d have a cabin deep in the woods, just me and him. I’d construct a swing set for the two of us and make sure he he’d never get hurt again, whether I wanted it or not, I was his mother, his father, and his guardian now. But now when I envisioned our perfect home in the woods, I kept seeing wolves lurking in the distant, surrounding the house. But it never seemed dangerous, just cautious.

Gazing out into the woods around me now, it was empty besides of the normal wildlife. Sometimes it was comforting knowing you were the only human being where you were, no one was there to judge you for anything.

“Please don’t leave me…” I murmured into the trees, hoping that somehow, someway, my hero would hear me and make the promise to never do so. But I knew also, that he wouldn’t.