I wish I had done something sooner.

I wish that she were stronger.

I wish I had the power to make that moment in time last longer.

I wish I were smarter.

I wish I knew what needed to be said.

Maybe If I did, then my sister would not be dead.

I wish I told her not to go.

I wish I told her sooner that her "friends" were no good.

I wish I could've told her that that needle does more than just "set a mood"

I wish I could've been there.

I wish there was a god that would show me how to atone.

Maybe if I did, I'd feel less bad that they found her all alone.

I wish they didn't.

I wish I didn't think about these things still.

I wish we could go back to the days of racing on the hill.

I wish I couldn't feel responsible.

I wish the weight would be lifted from my heart.

Maybe if it did, the rest of my life could start.

Quinn groaned as she was forced to roll onto her side, chest aching.

Sleeping on their stomach was never a problem as a boy, but they didn't expect this Shift on a Friday.

Everyone knows that girl is a Tuesday and Thursday gender! She thought. Today supposed to be a boy day, for crying out loud! I even planned out the suit I was going to wear!!

The phone on Quinn's nightstand buzzed, the fanfare of a ringtone that sounded from it forcing her to pick it up. This was a work phone calling.

"Metamorph, we need you in Sector 12, ASAP. Mantis is sending in his Hench-Mutants on the streets again!"

"Coming," she muttered, scrambling to find her Female suit.

Infa-Red, the Telepathic Hero on the other side of the phone, immediately picked up what was going on. "Are you going to be okay fighting today? We can move you to Sector 6 guard if--"

"I'm fine!" Metamorph aggressively zipped up her bodysuit. "In fact, you know that this is better than usual, since most animals have larger females than males."

"Well, yes, I just--"

"Was underestimating me? Was being slightly sexist?" Quinn had only half of her anger on Red, as she remembered that, for a reason everyone knew but didn't say aloud, the women's bodysuit only zipped up so far in the front.

She was going to have to fix that later. The Shapeshifter knew that she had bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

"Metamorph, out onto the field." While the suit was also illogically revealing in the back, she admitted that it was perfect for wings.

Quinn was an Animalia-Shapeshifter, but one of those odd quirks that came with the ability was the occasional gender-swapping, that was found to have a weekly pattern. While they could, theoretically turn into any known animal, it had to be of that certain sex. Metamorph learned a long time ago that, if they attempted to break this unwritten rule, the consequences would be them Shifting from a healthy person into a person in agonizing pain.

Once, even a dead person. Necro-Dancer, the Reanimator of the team, had been a literal lifesaver on that one.

Quinn shook her head of the memory, trying to focus on the threat of the day. Mantis was Poly-Powered, with abilities ranging from Invisibility to Super-Strength and Speed to Enhanced Vision. Technically speaking, all of the capabilities that come with being part mantis shrimp. (Don't be fooled, he's more overpowered than many would think.)

That being said, he was able to pick out a flying Hero from a mile away.

Metamorph was met with one of the Hench-Mutants: Pilot, the Avian-Shifting, Fire Elemental. His partner, the Levitating, Alien-Shifter known as the Bandit, joined him.

"Nope, not today." As quickly as she had taken to the skies, Quinn retracted her wings and dropped down to the streets below.

At the last second, she Shifted into a dull-colored butterfly, floating safely the rest of the way to the ground. Right to where Mantis was throwing his usual hissy-fit.

Pilot crashed to the ground with his Area 51 boyfriend. "There's a hero somewhere around here, trying to stop us!"

Mantis looked around, only noting his henchmen and a bug landing on his suit. Just as he was about to fire his two most distracting cronies, he felt a weight that definitely wasn't as light as a butterfly on his shoulder.

"What's up, Shrimp?" He met the gaze of a grinning boy in a women's bodysuit.

Naturally, yelling from both sides commenced, Mantis realizing he was in the presence of a Hero and Quinn realizing that he was in the wrong body (and in the presence of the city's most notorious Villain).

Morph was promptly pushed to the ground. It then occurred to the Hench-Mutants that their enemy was already writhing in pain, so they simply stood back and let their boss have the last hit.

"Wait... time-out," Quinn croaked, attempting to switch back into his morning self.

In the process of Shifting into a human, they had imagined themselves as their Friday self (ie. male), and in response, every cell in his body wanted to pack up and quit for the year.

Mantis scowled. "I have no time for a Hero who can't control themselves."

Just as he turned his back on the young Shifter, the Villain heard Pilot and Bandit let out a strangled yelp. Sighing, he swiveled back around, meeting the gaze of a murderous, female Metamorph. Her hands had extended into the tentacles of a giant squid(?), simultaneously ruining those two perfectly-good, throwaway servants of his.

"Come on!" Mantis shook his claws in frustration. "Fifth time this week!"

"Make that the sixth," Metamorph said. "Only, this time it will be you... I guess that would be the, what, seventeenth then... for that case?"

Infa-Red found Sector 12 lined with tentacles, Quinn in the center of it all. Some of Mantis's accomplices were being constricted or thrown around, but him and couple of other ones had managed to run off.

"Finally," she said. "I was running out of tentacles! Go get the ones that got away and Shrimp, then help me with these ones."

"Good work, Morph," Quinn knew that Red was hiding his shock by using his authority-voice. "you really outdid yourself today."

She smiled, going into her own scientist-mode. "See, I told you the females are generally larger than males. And they are also less colorful, making better disguises."

Shrimp didn't even see me coming! She added mentally. Friday should be a girl day more often. My body better be taking notes on this.

She feels the pain.

In long, languid strokes,

Pulsing, as if it has a life of it’s own. 

And it’s angry. 

Winding and twisting and black.

IT starts in her toes. 

They curl, as though they are trying to escape.

This pain has long, thick and dull fingers that press in deep and tear at her very being.

Her ankles buckle and she gasps, panic embracing her heart like a long-lost mother who left you in a trashcan at a subway station, people whizzing by, not taking the time out of their day, for you.

Cold and Mistrust and Lies wrap around her brain like diluted acid chilled in the refrigerator of a serial killer’s apartment.

She reaches out stiffly for a supporting surface. There is nothing. Her panic increases, and her heart beats faster against her chest.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Calves are cold and the black angry pain climbs up and up and up and up and up.

IT now develops a full hand and grasps her knees. Its middle fingers push deep into the back and she collapses and she falls with a 

CRASH.

It doesn’t stop. It won’t stop. It will never stop. It wants what it wants. And that’s what it’s going to get.

The fingers lengthen and thin into sharp, tough vines into her thighs. Her eyes widen and she cries out in a hoarse whisper.

Like an overused child’s toy she has been abandoned, neglected and forgotten. She isn’t needed anymore. 

She isn’t wanted. No one cares. The pain no longer creeps. It streams up into her hips, wrapping around her muscles, constricting them.

What did she do to deserve this? She feels as hopeless as Joseph and Potiphar’s wife. Trapped in a confusing, cold, and numbing prison and it’s

BLACK.

She curls into herself, only a strangled moan can pass from her lips aside from her short pants, her eyes screwed shut. 

She can’t breathe, oh LORD HELP HER SHE CAN’T BREATHE. These vines turn into knives and a cleaver strikes her in her stomach as one of the 

angry vines wraps around her diaphragm. Her nose is bleeding. Her legs are vibrating in pain, and her right hip is twitching.

She lays helplessly on the floor.

She feels the pain.

In short, fierce bursts,

Exploding, like fireworks,

And it’s Furious.

Short and swift and bright red.

It starts in her head. 

Her eyes twist shut, as if trying to slam the door on this fury.

The pain has thick, authoritative fists that pound upon her, and bruise her very being.

Her lungs seize, as she groans, panic slowing into dread as realization dawns darkly, like a girl waiting for a father she knows will never come home.

Anger, Betrayal, and Maliciousness thump and stab into her eyes like dull daggers that had aged in the bottom of the dumpster in an alleyway, right next to the used and disease- infused syringes, splattered blood, and used condoms. 

She tries to uncurl her arm from the fetal position but to no avail, it doesn’t work and now her heart slows, understanding washing over her like a wave, it is slower now

Thump, thump, thump….

She is burning hot as the sun in the sky that beats upon the black upholstery that a dog is stuck laying against with the windows closed, it has given up, and is waiting for his owner, that will be there a minute too late. It disperses all over her body and none of these muscles are her own. She has no control over her body, but she won’t let IT take her mind. 

IT doesn’t stop. It won’t stop. It will never stop. It wants what it wants, and that’s what it’s going to get. 

Or will it?

She is like a forgotten and abused teen girl left tied up in her straitjacket for four days, dazed and hallucinating, because they’ve forgotten food and of course, her drugs. 

No one cares, No one will be there to help this helpless girl who is just crying out for some sort of mercy

Oh Lord, give me mercy please, this is too much and I cannot take it anymore. 

What did she do to deserve this? Nothing, she tells herself. Therefore, IT can have her body, but IT can’t have her brain, her soul, her chi,  her life, herself. 

Her mind is hers, she will fight for that.

It will get better. Some days good, and some days bad.

All that matters is that you remember,

That you will feel the pain.

That IT will come for you too.

Are you ready?

I do not know how it could be

No terrible consequence to see

Blood on my hands

And the disgust beneath

Someone else's grief

To know it was because of me.

Life and breath

Beauty and depth

Stolen away

Because of me.

A denial of someone's dignity,

An offense against my own.

I do not know how it could be

No terrible consequence to see

Someone dead because of me.

Say to me, you see through me and I will show you a heart.

A heart that beats a million to one, and has no end or start.

A person wrapped inside a soul, that is control by work of none.

A finger pointing at everyone, but responsible for one.

A shield I hold in one hand, to guard my life and health.

A knife I hold in the other hand, to protect me from myself.

No I see nothing that seems to be wrong,

Yet, I see something that can cause me great harm.

A jigsaw puzzle with all the edges smooth.

A gear riding on a chain with only two grooves.

A smile in the morning when you first awaken.

A tear in your eye at night when all your thoughts are breaking.

Holla out loud and drop to your knees.

Hold up your hands and say the word please.

Close your eyes and come to a conclusion.

That life for you has been nothing but an illusion.

You say that us meeting was simply a mistake.

Well so was I.

A mistake my dad tried to avoid.

Beating my mom when she was pregnant

And me when I was born.

If us meeting was simply a mistake, then I shouldnt exist.

Because you.. yes you.. you're the reason i'm alive.

If we never met I would be dead.

But dont get me mistaken, keeping me alive isnt all you're good at.

Theres a reason why you saved my life.

Through Angelina

Through Amber

You were always there.

I love you for it, and so much more.

I wish we weren't like this right now, because its really fucking me up.

But I understand you dont wanna lose yourself.

Im sorry.

Tired of heartbreaks

He wished for true love

A shooting star

Crashed near him

Revealing a broken Angel

#MidnightMonologue

Can you even imagine? For seven nights you are free to feel as you have always longed to do. There are only two steps left and your hex will be complete. I told you that performing magick on yourself was dangerous but I dare say you have succeeded, and soon the pain centers of your brain will be secluded from the rest and left to sleep while you live as the others do. Don't ask me what to do with no pain in your life. I cannot say which activity would console you best, you might like to swim in an icy river, learn how to do a cartwheel (as no matter how many times you fall, you'll not feel its sting), or you may desire to walk a tight rope above sharp rocks for the thrill. Remember though, young one, just because you cannot feel the pain does not mean that you are not injured, so be careful in this time. Me? If I could go a week with no pain I would set out to resolve all of my issues with those friends from the past, I would ask and learn of peoples true opinions of me, and in the week I would come to terms with them so as to grow and not hurt when my time is up. Oh, if I could feel no pain for one week, I'll tell you... I would fall in love.

You take away

All of my fear

Give me a chance

To pursue all I hold dear

You lift me up

So that I can fly

And I'll do my best

To reach for the sky

You make me comfortable

With me

And break me from my prison

So that I can be free

You make me want

To whisper in your ear

And tell you how I feel

That you take away my fear

You make me not afraid

To skip and sing

As I dance through life

And don't worry about everything

I'm not afraid anymore

So hold me tight

I'm not afraid of the dark

Because I have you as my light