The characters of our game danced ahead of us as we individually fought against the current of us. In his world he sees innocence, and in mine I see my own deception of him and everyone in this town. I've lied, cheated, stolen, and betrayed, all to avenge some distant memory of a father I once knew. We both see the love pulling us together, two unwilling souls, tethered by pain and hope. If he found out, he would kill me. If I tell him, he would do the same. Maybe my confession would put an end to his longing looks and irresistible magnetic field.

I'll tell him now, because his life is in danger from my choices. I could've forever lived in a world where I did not know him, and may have been happy, but now I could not fathom living a day without a soft easy smile and hardened eyes.

"You need to know something" I say, breaking the silence we keep for company. Normal for us to enjoy the festivities on the sidelines in the quiet, he kept his face straight ahead and flickered his eyes to the side. "Oh yeah?" His mind was distant, and an emotional barrier always hid him away. I wanted to be taken seriously and have his full attention, but his heart will need to soften to reach him. We needed it to be just us. "But first can we go somewhere quiet? My head is pounding." "Of course," he says and flicks his cigarette to the ground. He stands tall, placees his hat on and reaches out for my hand. We walk to the back of the pub and shut the door before separating a distance from each other. I wring my hands and struggle to look at him. His eyes followed my movements. "Well, what is going on? You've been distant all night. I've been watching you know, no man looks at you, no women dares to speak to me, so this can't be about another man."

"Another man?" I ask confused. "Your confession then please, so we can go back to how we were" he waves his hand around, still looking past me.

"I can promise you there is no other man" the anger in his voice upsetting me. "However this afternoon I did have someone propose. Someone you have an aquaintance with. I turned in my resignation and he used the opportunity turn around and ask. When I refused he decided to blackmail me."

"The bartender? Never would've thought he had it in him" he said with a laugh, but the seriousness remained. "Is that all then? Your face is so abnormally pale"

"I have betrayed you from day one. I think in your heart you knew-" "Really the bartender" he interrupts about to go on some tangent.

"No not the bartender. My father was killed by a group of men from this area." I blurted angrily.

He froze and finally set his eyes on me. He turned slightly in my direction, facing me head-on. "I have spent my life for the opportunity to avenge him. And I have. Or you have. But to give me this opportunity meant selling my soul to the army you fight so heartily against. I never anticipated to fall in love, and never believed I would find my mirror in you. Now with my rejection, the inspector has once again set his eyes on you. I've bargained your safety with mine, you will be safe as long as I leave this place. If you kill me now, you would grant me reprieve from a marriage which I do not want. Forgive me for my betrayal, I attempted to play even sides so that no one was hurt. Kill me now or later, my heart belongs to you either way."

He looked at me for a long time, frozen, angry, and thinking. I watched his body move into shock when I confessed, and now see the ice taking over his veins. "What have you done?"

His question asked of what interference I ran in his plots. I explained, "I told them you had the weapons, once the other gangs knew too. I told them about the communist man when he started to become a thorn in your side. I told them about the impending gang violence and when to back down. Worst of all, I told them about the attempt to take Brooklyn."

His jaw ticked and looked past me thinking. "So you've done nothing."

"I betrayed you and everyone in this city."

He paced a bit, lighting a cigarette. "If you do not leave, he will come after me?" "Yes."

"Then you will leave." And with that he stomped out his cigarette and swept out the door, leaving me in the empty room.

Burned, burning, lost, depressed, now empty. Yes, empty. Yes lost and depressed and increasingly sorrowful of the life I left behind to cater to the wants and needs of you and your society. The tears that fall in silence, YOUR silence of nothing, absolutely nothing. And thoughts playing out like a crazy person, or a drunk one. He leaves with somehow more sound left behind then what he usually brings into a room. The definition of deafening silence. He tells me everything it is to be a woman here, with defenses comes emptiness, and with love comes abandonment. Calling brings fear, crying brings shame. Does being a woman truly mean being a slave to demands? If I were to fall victim to myself and my selfish needs, could I find happiness or would I still feel lonely.

His heart is warm for his passions, not me. His flesh is warmed by his society and talk, not of knowledgeable conversation or debates. My soul is crushed under gender expectations in an undeveloped rural area.

And when he decides to come back from his ventures, his interests, do I even wish to speak to him? No, I'd rather stand still and unmoving. The fight is lost when no one can win. My heart aches when I'm alone and becomes an unmoving boulder when he is near. I wait expectantly for the next betrayal and wish for quiet. I wish for more, and I wish for less.

I wish for peace, loneliness, quiet, understanding. I wish for nothing more than myself.

Her laugh echoed in the full room, scathing and sharp, as she glanced over with the confidence of alcohol and attention.

"He cheated on that girl with me," she lied, putting emphasis on speaking loud enough so I could hear, several tables away. The bar we were in has hideous red carpet, predatory women, and unsure men, who swirled around us as she tried to play a game she knew she could win. Brianna has spent a year flaunting her ugly face and pumpkin-shaped body around my life, in retaliation of my relationship becoming established. After a one-night stand with my now boyfriend so long ago, and she feels slighted that I "stole" him from her. As if her aggression and heavily applied makeup could attract anyone, considering her personality reflected that of a playground bully.

I've played nice, calm, collected, respectfully ignored her even. But now, eight drinks to the wind with no feeling in my limbs, I was ready to fight.

The small town I moved to doesn't believe in violence, as if they don't fight each other with words behind one another's backs. I don't fit in, and I don't want to. This bar sees too many men sexually assaulted for women's pleasure and bullying tactics that strike childish for my taste.

Did my boyfriend hear her say that? Yes, but he does nothing. He never stands up for me and forces my independence and ability to handle things down, to save face for his family name. A name his mother has ruined with her narcissistic betrayal and constant attention-seeking behavior.

I watch as two women approach my lonely table, "Hi, I don't think we've met, but my name is Clarissa. Your boyfriend Luke sent me over to meet you" she said with a smile. She'd heard what Brianna had said.

I look over at Luke, he's engaged in a conversation with his friends about tractors, or whatever blue-collar subject they were discussing.

"Hi, I'm Danni, it's nice to meet you." I say, watching as she notices the way people steer clear of my table, an effect only a "you're not from around here" person can achieve. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a loner," I say, gesturing to the empty table, coming up with an excuse for my boyfriend being across the room, talking at the table where Brianna slanders my name without confrontation. "Luke, he's a pretty social guy, so he does his own thing and I do mine."

"I see" She frowned slightly, looking away. Suddenly, her friend comes up looking unsteady and pulls her away, "it was nice to meet you!" she calls over her shoulder.

It was kind, the way she came over to check on me. People don't do that here, so she must not like that Brianna either. I wonder if she even has any bridges left, considering the amount of friends she’s burned. I sigh and continue to scroll through my phone and text my friend Rob. He has always been there for me, always liked my loneliness, and wanted to experience my life events the way no one ever had. I think it interested him, the pain that I wore openly. We talk about how much this place sucks, how ugly the carpet is, and the poor taste of country music floating around me.

I stand and go to the bar for another drink. I want to feel loved, connected, part of things. I needed to call my brother, he understood the social anxiety and the feeling of being unwanted. I pass by Luke with a cutting glance, the pain of being left behind by him no longer hurts as bad, I've grown accustomed to the betrayal every social situation brings with him. What you do for love, I guess.

I take my drink outside and make the call, he answers on the third ring. "Hey little Danni, how's it going?" he asks cheerfully. God, I miss him.

"It's going, how are you?" I ask. He details his hardship in the armed forces, living in a humid state that he hates, but he will be taking a test to further his rank. During his talk, one of Luke's friends, Nate approaches with a grin, "Danni! How are you? Oh shit, my bad" he walks by laughing, noticing my phone at my ear. He goes back inside as I playfully shake my finger at him.

Too soon, the phone call ends with promises of a later call. The open window from the bar peers over my shoulder as I watch the rural traffic speed by in silence. Laughter from the pool table dampens the mood, as the cool winter air starts to get to me. Luke opens the door to where I stand with a questioning look. "What are you doing out here" he asks softly.

"My brother called me" I responded quickly, he could never tell when I was hurting. "Aren't you cold? Let's go back inside" he says.

“I’m fine” I reply, “it’s warm inside.”

We stand in silence, watching the traffic. After five minutes of no speaking, he finally says “I think we should go back inside.” So I begrudgingly leave my post by the front door with a sigh.

The crowd was getting rowdier, and the women were making their mark on who to take home. Brianna zeroes in on me, I can feel her eyes.

"I want to hit her," I say to Luke, not looking at him. "She's been terrorizing us because of your mistake, if you're not going to do anything, then I will."

"Please don't, you don't need to catch an assault charge" he replies, scanning the room over my shoulder. We always speak as if we're not talking to each other, it's easier that way. He is so afraid of what his town thinks of him, that he doesn't want to show weakness, even if that means I suffer for it. My feelings are often discarded for his reputation, and I wonder where the man I met in a different city went. That was a man who loved openly and carefree, not this boy, shaking in his boots, afraid of confrontation that should've been taken care of before I even came into the picture.

Suddenly, Brianna bumps me hard, sashaying past. I don't acknowledge it, but I feel white-hot rage in my veins. I continue drinking, holding down my temper, and the image of pulling her down by her hair and pummeling her plain face plays out in my mind. She shakes her hair in victory at the bar, knowing Luke is intimidated by her brazenness.

"Come on Luke, sometimes a bitch needs to be hit" I growl, facing him fully.

"No Danni, don't cause any problems." He gives me a warning look.

Oh yes, that’s right, be a good little doormat he might as well say. But I am exhausted playing their game. Of course, he won't defend me, and yet some part of me was hopeful. I hate it here.

The rest of the night passes in a numbed state of indifference and frustration. When we are finally walking out the door, a shrill "Bye Luke, bye Luke, bye Luke" is chanted over and over again by Brianna, to everyone’s annoyance.

I look over my shoulder, already outside, but am pushed by Luke toward the parking lot. The door slams shut behind us, and I feel defeat.

Title: Moving to why

Genre: Drama/self-discovery

Age range: Adult

Word Count: 1200

Name: Paige Lucas

Why my project is a good fit: I am a writer who feels the pull of writing every day to create and develop deep characters. Readers need to feel an emotional connection to the main character and have their experiences ring true in the real world. Life lessons are communicated through situations to help readers work through problems in their everyday life.

The Hook: He looks at me like I’ve soured reality, when I point out his DUI habits are neither impressive nor attractive. I roll my eyes as he laughs, detailing how he fell off the bar the night prior and still lived to tell the tale. He is so bright with energy and attractive with confidence. My soon-to-be roommate has charmed me in our first meeting, and I’m curious to see how this will play out.

Synopsis: Danni Luka is a college student, who has been abused physically and emotionally since childhood by her parents. She struggles living with toxic roommates who try to kidnap her dog and steal her friends. She finds hope when her apartment complex finally allows her to move to another apartment, this time with a man who she will barely see. Questions of interest start to stir up unhealed wounds from her childhood, as the man learns to overcome her fears of emotional intimacy.

Target Audience: 17-35, adult.

Bio: I am a small-time writer for a local newspaper in the middle of nowhere. I have always loved writing deep and emotional pieces, but don’t get that satisfaction from the articles I write every day. Recently my work has moved more towards editing than writing, which has been difficult. In my heart, I have always wanted to be an author, and it’s something that has always sat in the back of my mind in whatever job I try to pursue.

Education: I am a college graduate, intending to continue my education in the fall.

Hobbies: I enjoy reading, organizing, spending time outside, and drinking coffee.

Age: 21

So what if everything that is seen can be unseen? And if that was the case then why can’t I see what I used to be, or rather who I use to be? In the dark, in the cold, huddled against the stone wall of my concious. The air around me holds no comfort in my isolation. There’s nothing but the pain of my reccuring thoughts. I just want to be loved, I just want to be held. If all else fails, maybe I could just have that one light in my life. The idea that I will ever recieve the love from another with as much enthusiasm and pure joy that I give to them, is nothing but a joke. A lie I want so deeply to believe, that I have to believe in order to continue every day with the same positive outlook. It is hard to find myself when my feet remain dirty and bleeding in the rocky path I have had to walk. When each drop of blood holds a little piece of me, is littered throughout the trail of my life. Who can say how much of myself has been lost through giving so much of myself to everyone else. I simply know, never have I felt such a deep, dark lonliness in my heart. An imoending cloud of doom, just waiting to release its acid. My isolation hides in my heart, within my soul, and within everyone single one of us.