A coin is inconsequential. A coin is unassuming. A coin can be looked over and forgotten, and doesn't complain. A coin can be somebody's world.

"What the..."  I then proceeded to say a word I usually refuse to say, but more or less summed up my situation and mind state.  My head existed on a swivel, as I stared at everything around me and tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

For those people who say that their brain shuts down when they see something they can't explain, they are lying.  Your brain doesn't shut down, it goes into overdrive.  It starts going so fast the information processing part of it can't keep up and there is a disconnect from what you are comprehending and what you know.  It is because of this that certain people can react faster and with a better solution in a dangerous situation.  More or less, like a soldier pumped full of adrenaline in a war responding to an enemy appearing around a corner.

I'm one of those blessed individuals, and somehow my brain processed and sent back the information needed to understand the impossible in three concise theories.  But first, what I saw.

Everything, and everyone, was blue.  I don't mean like sad or asphyxiating, I mean like different shades of blue.  Imagine a black-and-white photo, except its not black-and-white, but blue-and white.  I wondered for a moment if this is what it felt like to be color blind. But that wasn't everything.  In order to try and confuse my poor brain even more, nothing was moving except for me and the girl.  Behind me, a student's arm was inches from his paper, pen poised to write, but neither his arm nor pen wavered a millimeter.  Not to mention he wasn't breathing.  That freaked crap out me.

I cursed again, not even caring at the moment if the Almighty decided to strike me down with lightening for my language.  Frankly, that might have been preferable, since I wouldn't have had to make sense of the world around me.  Needless to say, I wasn't smited.  I continued looking around, noticing other things that would should not be possible; a spring loaded door half-way closed from a student having just walked in, a piece  of paper sailing towards a trash can now suspended in mid air, a girl's long hair standing up from when she had plopped down into a chair just moments before.

"This is a joke!" I whispered.  Yep, that was my first theory.  Somehow everyone had got in on a joke to fool me, freezing in place and putting colored lenses on my eyes.  Made sense, until I thought about the piece of paper, hair, and guy not breathing behind me.  At that point he probably would have passed out from holding his breath that long.  "I was knocked out, it's a dream!"  Second theory shot to shreds when I pinched myself and did not wake up.  Frankly I don't even know why I tried that, since I could still feel the girl's hand on my arm.  That was not a dream I'd make up.  The third theory was insane, but plausible.  It made the most sense, resonated inside me, and in fact, I really hoped that it was the third theory.

"It's magic!" I said louder, and the girl looked at me like I was crazy.

"No human would come up with that first," she muttered.

"Believe me I tried to explain it other ways," I responded truthfully.  To my surprise, the cold was leaving my body as a heat, originating from around my heart, was slowly warming me up.  It was also making me bolder, more sure of myself, and a lot less panicked.  "This is the only thing that makes sense.  Well, actually, it doesn't, but it explains it adequately."

"Congratulations," the girl said sarcastically.  "You're smarter than I thought."

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow as it dawned on me.  "You were hoping I would panic, pass out, and leave you alone, right?"  The expression on her face gave away the answer, and I laughed.  "Thought so.  I'm a writer, not the idiotic hero who doesn't know anything as he is thrown into a world he had no idea existed.  I think of these things all the time.  This is like something straight out of a fiction novel..."

"Well this isn't fiction," the girl muttered, attempting to regain some dignity.

"I suppose not," I murmured back.  Looking down at her hand still clamped on my arm, I asked again, "Can you let go now?"

"No."  The curt response was the same as before, and I shot a glance up at her face.  She didn't meet my eyes, but stared stonily away.

"Why not?" was my obvious follow up.

"Because if I let go, you will be ripped from this timeless state into real time. It's painful. Very painful." I would've thought she was joking if she hadn't said it with a straight face.

"That sounds...harsh," I decided. "How do you get out then?"

She held up the coin, a nondescript gold piece of metal with a clear, glass like middle. "This. It allows me to stop time for myself and the things I am touching. At the moment, that's you."

"This is some kind of magic..." I whispered under my breath. "The possibilities are endless."

"No, they aren't." I glanced at the girl with a raised eyebrow, and she continued. "People would become suspicious quickly if you went from ordinary to extraordinary overnight. Stopping time is not simple either. It taxes your body, ages it as if you were still in real time, and attracts beasts."

"Beasts. That's the second time you've mentioned them," I stated. "What exactly are they?"

"Not you apparently," she said sarcastically and rolled her eyes.

"I told you I wasn't," I spat back angrily. "It's not my fault you didn't believe me!"

"Better safe than sorry. Anyways, I knew you weren't." She looked up at the ceiling, staring at the light above us as I puzzled over her words.

"If you knew I wasn't, then why did you do...this?" I gestured to everything around us and she shrugged nonchalantly.

"You seemed interesting," was her equally vexing and vague answer. I hate it when people, especially writers, don't explain things completely. I call it a "plot hole." I abhor plot holes.

"Alright fine, then what's a beast?" I relented, realizing she wouldn't tell me anything unless she wanted to.

"Oh."

"What?" I asked in annoyance.

She pointed slowly towards the board at the front of the class. "That is a beast."

The main reason I go by Wolf is because it is a nickname given to me by my friends, and because a character named Lone Wolf appears in quite a few series I am in the process of writing. Wolf is a personification really of what most people see in a wolf, a type of beauty behind the darkness. A wolf can run with the pack, or forge on alone, but either way they find a way to survive. That is who Lone Wolf is, and I developed his character as I am, or as I like to think I am.

The 365 comes from 365 days in the year, and my dorm room number. So that's my pseudo name, a name based on my character.

What is time?

It's a concept really, a simple explanation of an infinitely complex thing that humans cannot even begin to understand. If we did understand time, real time, not just us going around the sun and the Earth spinning, I doubt many of us would stay sane. Those of us who do understand are gifted, and cursed.

Easiest way for me to set this up; a river. Time is a river. It flows continuously from a point to a point for each life. Every living thing adds to this river, a little trickle joining and then disappearing with every birth and death. Now, imagine a trickle suddenly stopping, freezing in place. You would think everything else would keep flowing right? But no. That frozen trickle acts as a dam that stops the whole river, because without that little trickle, the river of time would be torn apart.

That little trickle is me, and every other Coinbearer in the world. We can control time, weave in and out of it, slow it down, but not speed it up. Speeding it up would cause larger problems than what we already have. And we have large problems.

The gift part is our power to control time around us. The curse is we have a job. A dangerous job, that may or may not get you killed, depending on how good you are. With out time bending power, we are given another power, a power to fight. Every person has a unique fighting style based on their imagination and physique. Some use "magic", if it can be called that, others use swords, guns, fists, etc. to fight. Before you ask, no, we don't fight each other. Well...usually.

Anyways, we all fight a common enemy called, wait for it, beasts. They come in many shapes and sizes, but mostly as larger than normal jet black animals that seem to suck in light around them. They are terrifying, not just because they are faster than normal, stronger than normal, more viscous than normal animals, but because of what they represent. They are the collective accumulation of hate, spite, jealousy, and destructive thoughts of people in a city. That is why they tend to show up in places a lot of people gather in. Given enough time and power, they can latch onto an already depressed or dark souled person and control them, forcing them to jump of buildings, commit mass shootings, or lash out at others to drag them into despair as well. They are viscous and all consuming creatures, seeking only to destroy humans and consume their life force.

Oh yah, the reason you never see them is because they exist on a separate time plane than us. Coinbearer's can enter that time plane, one that travels at 1/360th of the speed our travels at (meaning one hour on that plane is one second in real life), by using a Coin.

Coins are unique. You can't just go pick up a coin and suddenly jump planes. A capital C-O-I-N is a solid gold disk about two inches in diameter with an inscription around a clear, inch diameter diamond middle with the owner's weapon engraved into it. A single Coin's monetary value is approximately $500,000, or half a million dollars. In truth, they are priceless. A Coin bonds with its owner, allowing only the owner to use it to jump planes or summon weapons. Once bonded, the owner's life force is also placed in the Coin. If the Coin breaks (almost impossible) or is swallowed by a beast (far more likely), then the owner dies.

On the other hand, you can die from physical injury, even with a Coin. A Coin does increase physical endurance and abilities ten-fold, but getting stabbed, gutted, or shot in another time plane is like getting stabbed, gutted, or shot here. So a Coinbearer is not invincible. It is possible, although unlikely, to be attacked by another Coinbearer. If there is a casualty, the now dead Coinbearer's Coin can be taken and given to someone else, since there is no longer a life force attached to it. It is also possible to recover Coins by killing beasts that have consumed them. That is dangerous though, since consuming a Coin gives a beast twice as much power. By collecting consumed Coins, new Coinbearers can be born and trained. The more Coinbearers, the better chance we have of protecting the innocents.

"A what?"

"A Kitsune! You know, the ancient beast from Japanese folklore."

I raised an eyebrow at my friend, wondering what had gotten into him. Snapping a pair of chopsticks apart, I pointed one at him. "Have you had too much sushi?"

"Shut up." He punched my arm and I laughed, digging into my sushi. My friend joined in, and we ate in comfortable silence.

"I saw one."

I think I choked on my sushi at that point and then stared at my friend. "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm not! Listen I swear I saw one!" My friend pointed one of his chopsticks at me and continued. "It was a small red fox and it looked at me like it was human!"

"It was a fox," I said calmly and shrugged.

"She transformed!"

"Transformed?" I asked surprised.

"Yah! She literally became a human!"

"Alright, alright, now that's insane." I sighed and finished off my last piece of sushi. "I don't doubt you, but that's over the top."

"Yah, I know." My friend went quite, and I put down my sushi plate, leaning back against the bench's back. "Still," my friend murmured, "I know what I saw."

-----------------------------------

I left school like any normal day, walking along the forest edge that surrounded my neighborhood. I loved the walk, listening to the birds sing, the leaves rustle, and watching the light play across the small plants the larger trees protected with their overhanging branches. It did not take long for me to hear the strange, piercing cry.

I stopped, listening, curious as to what was making such a sound. It sounded like a cross between a cat mewl and a dog's whimper, just higher pitched. I frowned, failing to recognize the animal the cry belonged to, but I knew I could not just pass by.

I turned and entered the forest, pushing through the underbrush as I followed the sound. Very rarely had I entered the forest. I did not have time. I would have enjoyed the exploration a lot more if my mind was not preoccupied.

It did not take me long to find the noise maker. I stumbled into a small clearing with a small, fresh water creek at the center. Looking around, I saw it by the creek, lying on its side with a bloodied paw.

"A fox!" I whispered, staring in disbelief. At the sound of my voice, the fox raised its head from its lying position to stare at me and growl threateningly. I would have been more scared if I had not known the fox was obviously incapacitated. Plus it was just too cute.

The fox was small, maybe about the half the size of a Labrador retriever, and had a rich pelt of orange-red hair with a white underbelly and a black snout and paws. It's eyes were flashing an intelligent green, mouth curled back in a snarl, but its eyes showed no danger. In fact, the eyes seemed to portray a curiousness as large as mine.

"Hey there," I spoke soothingly, crouching down about three feet from the animal. The fox stopped snarling, eyes staring up at mine with surprise. "I don't want to harm you. How were you hurt?" I felt a little stupid talking to a fox, especially when I knew it could not talk back. As expected, I did not receive an answer. "Can I help?" I reached out a hand, back of hand first, and the fox craned its neck to sniff it. It snorted at my scent, and then laid its head back down, satisfied for the moment.

"I'll take that as a yes," I murmured, and pulled my backpack off my back. The fox did not even look as I sifted through my backpack, until I pulled out a small first aid kit. It looked at the Red Cross on the packages side, and its eyes widened a little. Was it surprise, or fear? I could not tell.

I opened the package and pulled out an antiseptic wipe, tearing open the wipe package and unfolding the damp wipe. "This might sting a little," I said, slowly reaching for the injured back, right leg. The fox made no move to stop me as I lifted its leg a little and slowly began to wipe away the blood. As I cleaned up the matted fur, I could tell the wound was fairly fresh, for the blood was still wet. A minute later, I found the actual wound, a deep cut that circled around the crook in the paw.

As I examined it, wondering how I should treat it, the fox scared me to death by rubbing against my arm. I had not even realized it had raised its head, but the soft rub seemed to say, "I trust you." "Thanks," I said with a smile, and reached back to pull a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Okay, this will sting." I used a cotton ball and dumped some of the alcohol onto it, gently applying the wet cotton to the wound. The fox growled once in pain, but other than that, it gritted its teeth and took it. Quickly, after applying the alcohol, I pulled a roll of bandages from the kit and wrapped the paw tightly to prevent infection. Cutting the bandage and tiring it off, I leaned back and sighed out, "Done."

The fox was almost immediately up, testing its leg and hobbling around on three legs. It tested the injured paw and was obviously pleased, for it took a short trot on all four legs before returning. "Looks like you can walk now," I said with a small sense of pride. I had helped this animal out, knowing there would be no reward besides saving it. I looked back towards the edge of the forest, realizing now was the time for me to go.

I felt a hand in my shoulder, and a soft voice spoke, "Thank you." Whipping around in shock, I couldn't believe my eyes. The fox was gone, replaced by a beautiful young woman standing in its spot, wearing an orange t-shirt and jean shorts. My brain refused to believe it, until I looked at her right leg and saw bandages wrapping around the back of her knee.

"You're a Kitsune!" I gasped in disbelief. "But I thought..."

"We were fake?" she supplied, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. "No, we aren't. We just hide in the shadows. The ears and tail are a giveaway." For the first time I noticed that two orange ears stuck up out of her black hair, and a bushy orange tail hung from her tail bone.

"No way..." I whispered, meeting her green eyes from my sitting position. She only nodded and shifted on her bare feet.

"Thank you for your help though," she said again with a smile. "Most humans wouldn't have cared."

"I-it wa-was nothing," I stammered out. In truth, I was terrified. I knew what a Kitsune was, mischievous fox spirits that either played tricks on humans or protected them. Was this a protector? Or a prankster? If was a prankster, I might end up as a frog, or worse.

"Since you helped me, I'll offer you a deal." I blinked in surprise at the statement, and stared up at her as she continued with her hands on her hips. "I can offer you the power of a Kitsune."

"What?" I asked stupidly.

"I can make you a Kitsune in other words," she cleared up quickly. "I mean you would have to leave everything behind, but you would have the magic of a Kitsune."

"Hold up!" I exclaimed. "You're offering me something I don't even know about!"

"Hmm," the Kitsune hummed thoughtfully. "You're right. Would you like an explanation?"

"It would be appreciated."

"Alright. I'm sure you know Kitsune originated in Japan, mostly seen as jokesters who played tricks on humans. We were seen as devils for our magic and never dying fire spells, but in truth, we are just spirits. We protect the humans with our fire, our magic, and occasionally play a prank or two when we are bored. Nothing dangerous, just funny! We travel a lot, usually in twos, and protect cities that need protecting."

"Wait, then where is the second one?" I asked confused.

The Kitsune's expression changed on the dime, her eyes becoming wells of sadness. "Kitsune are hunted by other spirits. We aren't immortal like people think. We can be killed by darkness."

"I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"It's ok. But it is why I offered it to you. You have a caring heart and a sharp mind from what I can tell. You'd make a powerful Kitsune."

"Hold up," I interrupted, a thought nagging at my the back of my mind. "You said Kitsune are spirits. How can a human become one?"

"By imbuing you with Fox Fire," she said happily. To me, that sounded more than a little painful.

"Uhm, it's not that I have anything against that, but wouldn't burning me with fire hurt?" I asked a little timidly.

"Oh, no, Fox Fire won't hurt you. It is harmless to humans, dangerous to spirits." She cocked her head at me, her green eyes sparkling intelligently. "How about this: think over my proposal tonight, and then get back to me tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!?" I exclaimed.

"Yah, sorry, I can't stay around here for too long. I'm already stretching it because of this wound." She reached down and messaged the wound a little before straightening up. "Well, do some thinking. I'll see you around." With that, she turned and began to walk deeper into the woods before I called out.

"Wait! How will I find you?"

"Oh, you'll know how," she said with a smile over her shoulder. "Just follow your feelings." If I had blinked, I would have missed the transformation, as her body was covered in a blue-white flame that shrunk to the shape of a fox, then dissipated to reveal the orange beast I had helped. Then she was gone.

-----------------------------------

I didn't sleep that night. I just met a Kitsune, a mythical beast, but they are real. Why? Those thoughts kept running through mind, bewildering me beyond belief. What do I do? Do I accept? Being a Kitsune, being free... but that means leaving everything behind... Can I really do that?

The next morning I was beyond tired, but I didn't care. I needed to talk to my friend. He would know what to do.

"Dang man, you look wasted." Turning, I saw my friend's smiling face, and felt my spirits lift.

"Don't mention it. Long night. We need to talk."

"'Bout what?"

"A Kitsune."

-----------------------------------

Approaching the woods after school filled me with trepidation and hope. For a moment, I doubted myself, then thought back to my friend and his words. With that, I walked into the woods with more confidence than I had.

"You came!" I took a deep breath and nodded, taking in the Kitsune leaning against a tree by the creek I had helped her at the other day.

"I did."

"Well?"

I hesitated, and then breathed out slowly. "I talked with my friend today about this. He saw you the other day, probably before you were injured from his description. I thought he was insane when he first told me, but then I actually met you. I didn't even believe me own eyes. Then you offered me this chance.

"When I told him, he immediately told me to take it. Without hesitation, he said 'Dude, go for it. This is your chance to be something you never could normally be, to become a hero in the dark.' I didn't completely agree with the whole hero thing, but...he was right about one thing. It is an opportunity I won't ever get again. Then he really explained why.

"He said Kitsune are rare, rarer than any other beast, mythical or non-mythical. The sightings are impossibly small. Because of that, he said I could be part of bringing them back, part of reviving the protectors of the fire. He knew my weakness really. I love magical beasts, and really just beasts in general. Everything has a life force worth saving, and that was why I helped you, even though I thought you were just a simple fox.

"And it is because of that fascination and ability to care for even the ones who are lost that I say yes. I'll become a Kitsune."

I inhaled after my dissertation and met her eyes, and was shocked to see a tear in her eyes. "I didn't think you would say yes actually. I knew there was a chance though. I could sense the good in you, the spirit of a Kitsune just waiting to break out. I'm truly touched."

I could feel myself blush and was at a loss for words. Finally, I decided on, "You seem a lot like a human for a Kitsune."

"I am human!" she said laughing. "I just have some unique powers. Now, are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. It won't hurt, right?" My worry must have belted through, and she quickly reassured me.

"It will tickle, but that is all." She smiled and raised a hand, the white-blue flames flickering across it. "Prepare yourself!" Before I could say anything, she jumped forward and slammed the fiery hand into my chest.

The sensation was oddly pleasant. I felt as if a warm liquid was running through my body, reaching all of my extremities. My eyes were locked with the Kitsune's right in front of me, the unwavering green a single point of peace for me to lock onto to. Before I knew it, she had stepped back, and the sensation was over.

"How do you feel?" she asked softly.

"Fine actually," I replied honestly, examining the back of my hand as if it would reveal some change. "I don't feel any different."

"Touch your head!" she said happily, and I noticed she looked really pleased. I obeyed, and started as my hand brushed a pointy ear. "It worked! You're a Kitsune!" she gushed.

"Wait, it might not have!?" I asked incredulously.

"There was a small chance it would've had no affect, but it worked!" She circled me, looking me over from top to bottom. "You make a rather fitting Kitsune."

"Thanks?" I said unsure if that was a compliment or not. She brushed my orange tail as she circled around once again, and I shivered at the sensation of a new extremity sending signals to a part of my brain that had not been there before. My tail swished in response as I asked, "So what now?"

"We move on." She smiled lightly before she continued. "I used a lot of my power there. I'm fairly weak, so we should find somewhere to lay low. That okay?"

"Yah. That's fine. I left my family a note, so hopefully they don't panic." For the first time as a Kitsune, I smiled broadly. "I doubt they'd believe it though."

She laughed happily and then reached out to grab my hand. "Come on! Transform now and we will head out of here. I know a good place!"

"How do I transform?" I asked, and she winked at me.

"Just use your feelings."

Despite the vague instructions, it made sense. I reached down into myself, searching for a happy memory, something funny, and then imagined myself as a small, orange fox. The warm liquid filled my body again, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself at eye level with a fox. It came up to me as I looked down at my black paws, nuzzling against me to get my attention, and then turned with a sly look to head deeper into the forest. I followed, a warm bubbling feeling spreading through my small body. I felt alive. I was free.

I was a Kitsune.

It's funny, I noticed the subtle differences first. It's odd that I didn't see the big picture. It's interesting that I became aware because of a simple, unassuming scar.

College, "The best four years of your life." I find that thought depressing. It's four years of sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, maybe even a hundred years, but people wish they could go back to those four years. Was it simpler then than it is now? For some I don't doubt it. The real world can be the worst hell. Was it the partying, the girls, the guys, or the social aspect? Maybe, because the workforce doesn't care about you, just your stats. It could be a plethora of reasons. I don't want to return to college to gain something. No, I want to return to leave something behind.

I won't lie, I went to college, and still am in college. I went for two reasons: money and love for a job. I'm still looking to get that job, and my hopes are high. I'm a good student, an excellent student really, so it shouldn't be a problem. Too my surprise, my biggest problem wasn't school, or I should say became something other than school.

I can trace the beginning of this phenomena that I can remember back to October 25, 2016, my junior year. It was a Tuesday, one of my "easy" days with only two classes and a simple lab. I didn't have many friends in my first class of the day, so I generally sat alone, took notes, and thought. I thought a lot, mainly about the multiple books I was writing. I loved writing, still do, but an active imagination can be dangerous. That fact is very true. Anyways, I was in class, minding my own business when a rather unexpected guest came and sat next to me. It was a young woman with slightly longer than shoulder length blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, a combination that was oddly unsettling. Despite that, her eyes were balanced by her friendly face with smooth cheekbones and a ever so slightly down turned nose. Instead of the standard snooty face most people associate with a beautiful blonde lady, she had the opposite. So of course, I had to ask myself, why is she here?

Personally, I don't think I'm hot. At all. It's not that I have a low self image, I just don't see how I could be seen as hot. I'm not built, don't play many sports, and am a nerd. Epitome of "uncool." The only thing I have going for me was that I was tall, lanky, blonde, and blue eyed with high cheekbones that are not very visible, and prominent eyebrows that made my eyes look a little sunk when I scowled. I didn't scowl much, unless I found something more odious than usual.

"You're Lucas, aren't you?"

At my name I turned fully to the girl, and flinched. I didn't mean to, but I had missed something about her. Across her face, from her left cheek and traveling between her eyes to her right temple, was a thick white scar. It was obviously old, healed, but very visible. Immediately, I felt bad, and went to apologize for my reaction. Instead of getting to apologize, she beat me to the punch.

"Why did you flinch like that?" she asked innocently. Her voice was young, smooth, and sweet, so oblivious. Great day how wrong I was.

"Sorry," I explained softly, looking away embarrassed. "The scar took me by surprise."

"Scar?" The word was whispered so quietly that I thought she hadn't spoken, until I looked at her face. You know the expression white as a ghost? More accurately, she went as white as her scar, and that is impressive in itself. "How can you..." she mumbled something more I didn't catch and turned to stare vacantly at the front of the classroom.

"Um," I murmured in confusion, " did I say something?"

The girl whipped back around to me with a fierce expression. I leaned back in surprise, panic most likely entering my eyes. "What are you?" she whispered. "Some sort of beast?"

"Did you just say beast?" I asked in shock.

"You must be to see it!" she hissed back. I decided around then she was crazy and acted accordingly.

One thing I don't like is violence. Okay, that's a lie. For a long time I wanted to go into the army. Sadly, my eyesight and chronic dependence on contacts eliminated that possibility. I have no qualms standing up for myself and my friends, even if that means knocking some jerks around. Despite being lanky, I do know how to fight. Still, one of my values is don't hit a girl, unless she is obviously trying to hurt me or kill me. Then self-defense kicks in. Otherwise, talk. And as a writer, I can talk.

"Listen here," I spoke rather harshly and scowling. "I don't know what you are talking about, calling me a 'beast' and all, but I am not a 'beast.' If you came over her to insult me, please leave and take your illogical hatred elsewhere."

"Illogical!" the girl exclaimed indignantly. "You wouldn't understand!"

"Then try explaining," I said exasperated, rolling my eyes. Oh, yah, I am rather sarcastic at times. I need to work on that.

"Fine!" The girl almost spat the last word and pulled out a simple gold coin from her pocket. She reached out and grabbed my arm, which I instinctively tried to jerk away from, with an iron grip that defied her looks. I didn't even want to think what the people behind us were thinking, but I was just glad the professor had not arrived yet to witness this. Actually, I remember wishing he would walk through the door at that moment and put an end to this girl's charades. The professor did not walk through the door, and the girl flipped the coin into the air.

Describing what I felt in that moment is extremely difficult. Imagine falling really fast and then hitting water. It feels like you slow down to almost a standstill in seconds. It doesn't necessarily hurt, just stings, and you feel almost weightless as you are surrounded by the fluid. You sit there for a second, then start swimming up, faster with each passing moment and a rushing sound in your ears as you head towards the surface, the normal world until you break the surface and-

I gasped and shivered uncontrollably in my chair, pulling my arms over my chest and hugging myself for warmth. The girl refused to let go of my arm, and I swore she was literally sapping the warmth from me. My teeth chattered as I tried desperately to warm up, but nothing seemed to help. My cold-locked brain decided it had to be the girl, her heavy hand on my arm somehow affecting me.

"C-ca-can yo-you let g-g-go?" I chattered out.

"No."

"Wha-what?!" I stammered in disbelief. Did she just tell me no? I thought incredulously.

"Look around you idiot." The girl now sounded exasperated and tired, much the way I had thirty seconds ago. Still, I listened to her, slowly looking around me. What I saw defied everything I knew.

"Well here is your explanation," the girl said calmly. "Welcome to my world, and a world of no time."

Thatʼs what they call me. Not my name, James, ’cause thatʼs to harsh. Thatʼs what they call us all. And they are right. We have no hope, no life, no chance.

Some of us are here for actual crimes. Some aren't. It doesnʼt matter to the guards; we are just criminals.

I fought it. I fought every second. But in the end, a state lawyer is a about as good as a bowl of rice when your up on the stand. As a poor man, I couldnʼt afford anything else. So I lost. “The eye doesnʼt lie," they claimed. "You were there!” With no alibi, I might as well not even tried.

None of us know the time. Itʼs a dark world Iʼm in. Most of us have given up. Most of us have nothing more to lose.

I figure I have a year or so more before they get around to me. Iʼm a new addition. So maybe there is hope. I might get to see my family, my wife and two children. Little Johnʼs almost nine now, and Jacobʼs 12. His birthday was yesterday. At least I got to write a letter. Still…I feel hopeless, lost, useless. I know my wife's'trying to scrape together the money for a true lawyer, a real case! Maybe, I will be proven innocent! Maybe I will--

Prison Log: James Nomer

Execution: October 18, 2003

Note: Proven innocent three years after execution with new DNA testing. Family could not be found for compensation.

End of Log