One piece of paper with a few little words on it, that's all.

"Congratulations, Sophia!

You've been accepted to the Center School. News for incoming freshmen....."

There were definitely more words.

But those were the only ones I cared about.

Escaping from the dirty looks and whispered insults; the smug smiles on the faces of preps, jocks, dropouts and lowlifes of my second school might be the coward's way out, but either way, I was taking it and bombing away from the memories of that trash hole as fast as possible.

Three years seemed like thirty with a cafeteria full of crappy food and people judging, judging, judging themselves and others.

Every one of you know: all I do is complain about that dump, but honestly, I couldn't be happier.

I made it through my last year alongside seven and a half friends.

Now I'm sprouting up in an altogether different environment with par-zero people in my comfort zone.

Starting over should be great if you don't count the socializing, and I'm not going to miss a thing.

My long limbs continue to grow in grace and beauty as Humans threaten to break my elegant trunk and leaves. My bark may seem cold and worthless, but my fragile figure needs a protection layer. I am calm and relaxed. My hum and voice only follows through to those who listen to me. I am a tree, I will be the future.

Everyone can express that feeling in their stomach, the fluttery one, letting them know that they love someone. Instead of that man over there shying away from the other man he loves, he can walk up to him and say, "I love you," and they can proudly walk down the street together. Instead of that woman down the block hiding under her covers because she wasn't allowed to marry the person she loves, she can go and head right on down to her love and tell her " I love you," and they can be happy and live a life together. Legalizing gay and lesbian marriage wasn't just a happy day, it was a day that freed those souls who needed to be free, and let them know it was going to be ok.

Demon attack: "Get up, sister. I'm finding a way to get you out of this, Winchester style. You're not dying on me today. You can't- I love you too much."

A sad and tragic way: "I know we don't have long so I'll make this short: I love you babe, keep your hats low and feelings in check or else they'll start to fight, and always, ALWAYS listen to Fall Out Boy in heaven. Or wherever you want to go after this. You improve my life by infinity. Okay? Okay. Just know that you're not really leaving me, I'll remember that. I promise."

All-encompassing way: "Nope. Definitely not. Get up, I'll get you out of here, and I'll murder anyone who stops me."

Once upon a time there lived a man and a woman--Love and Hate.

Love had beautiful blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.

Hate had black hair and dark, covered eyes.

Love and Hate were two of the most unlikely people to fall in love--but they did.

Love was working at a farmer's market, happily selling peaches to lovesick strangers.

Hate, his head covered in the hood of his jacket, was selling rings and necklaces--although he didn't sell much of them.

Love, when her break came, headed over to Hate's stand.

"I'd like a necklace, please," she said in her smooth, pretty voice.

Hate looked into her blue eyes and nodded. "Which one?"

Love pointed to a small necklace that had a blue stone in the middle. "It's for my mother," she explained.

Hate tilted his head to one side. "You don't have a lover, do you?"

Love blushed. "Ah. No, I don't." Her voice was wistful. "The only man I ever loved regected me, and..." She broke off. "The necklace, please." She placed some money on Hate's counter.

But Hate didn't take the money. He just glanced at it and gave it back to Love, along with the necklace. "My gift," he said softly.

Love gazed at him for a moment. "Thank you," she murmured, and left.

Throughout the day, Love and Hate stole shy glances at each other, although they could never gather up the courage to walk up to the one they had fallen in love with and talk to them.

Finally, at the end of the day, Love and Hate bumped into each other again.

Love tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "I'm... I'm really sorry."

"No." Hate shook his head. "I... That was my fault."

For a few minutes, they just stared at their shoes, words unable to form on their tongues.

Hate said, "That necklace... It matches your eyes."

"It matches my mother's eyes," Love murmured. "I... I got my eyes from her." She laughed. "Well. I mean, not literally..."

Hate smiled. "I'd be surprised if your mother was as half as beautiful as you are."

Love felt her cheeks grow hot. "She's more beautiful," she blurted out. "Everyone... Everyone says so."

"That she's more beautiful than you?" Hate asked. "You don't believe them, do you?"

"I... I..." Love sucked in a breath of air. "I need to go."

Hate sighed. "What's your name? Are you from my Clan?"

"I'm from the Clan of the Sun," Love said. "My... My name is Love."

"And I am Hate," Hate said. "I'm from the Clan of the Moon."

"Oh." Love rubbed her mother's necklace against her fingers. "Well, we won't be seeing each other again. You know that friendships are forbidden as well as I do."

"Yes." Hate nodded, and turned away so Love could not see the tears pricking at his eyes like thorns.

Love bit her lip, turned on her heel, and followed after the people of her Clan, not able to admit to herself that she had fallen in love.

And Hate followed after after his Clan, thinking only of Love.

"You've been living for too long," the voice hissed in the old woman's ear. "It's time for you to go."

The old woman shook her head vigorously. "No. Never, not until he comes home." The old woman stroked the old photo of her husband, and she let out a long, sad sigh.

The voice laughed. "You think he's coming home? You sad old woman!"

"He'll come home." The woman's voice sounded broken. "I know he will."

The voice materialized. "You have been knowing for quite a while, old lady."

The old woman met Death's gaze. He was not as she imagined him to be--he did not look one bit evil. He was wrinkled, like the old lady, and had soft, sad eyes. Eyes that had seen to much. Death smiled softly, and reached out his hands to the old lady. She did not take them.

"Just a little bit longer," the old lady whispered. "I want my husband to come home."

Death sat down next to the old lady. "And if he doesn't come home? Life is not a fairy tale, woman. You should have learned that by now."

The old woman hugged her husband's photo. "This is only a dream," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Dreams are powerful things," Death whispered.

"A year," the old woman said. "Give me a year."

Death pondered for a moment. "Let's play a game."

The woman eyes Death warily. "I don't trust you."

Death reached out his fingertips towards the old woman. "Ah. Come with me now, old lady, or play a game with me."

"A quick game?" The old lady's breath was coming in short gasps, as if she, too, knew that her end was coming soon.

Death tipped his head to one side. "It's a game. My quick and your quick are two different quicks."

"Get on with it," The old woman snapped. "I don't have all night."

"But you do." Death's eyes danced with unspoken words. "Old woman, since you seem so intent on hiding from me, let's play a little game of hide and seek, shall we?"

"I don't..." The old woman trailed off.

"You don't want to?" Death tapped his chin. "Oh, so sad. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me, then."

The woman's eyes blazed. "I won't come with you!"

Death seemed amused. In an instant, he was standing in front of the woman. "Oh, you have spirit! I haven't had such an unwilling customer for a while. Sadly, Life isn't here for you. She gave in and gave you to me last night, and now I am here to claim you." Death's lips spread into a smile. "Life gave you up easily. She knows that you have been living far too long, and for nothing--a dead husband."

The old woman sucked in a breath. "He's not dead!"

Death's eyes were sympathetic. "Oh! Don't you think I would know whether he was dead or not? I remember claiming him, in fact--he was rather eager to leave this world, to-" Death paused and watched the old woman closely.

The old woman's eyes pricked with tears. "No..."

"Yes." Death sighed. "Life and Death are unfair, old woman. Life and I don't usually make exceptions for people just because they want us to make a exception."

"My husband..." The old woman gazed down at his picture, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Won't you come with me now?" Death's voice was soft. "You'll see your husband again. You can be together again."

The woman looked from Death to her husband's picture. "I... I think..."

Death leaned forward, licking his lips eagerly.

"I think that you are lying," the old woman retorted.

Death stared at her. "He misses you. He wants to be with you, he yearns for it."

Tears streaked the woman's face. "I don't believe you!"

Death grabbed the old woman. "He wants you," he hissed. "But you don't want him!"

"I have children, and grandchildren!" The old woman exclaimed, yanking herself away from Death. "I have to take care of them, even if my husband is dead like you say!"

Death's eyes burned with a dark fire. "Think hard about your choice, old lady," he growled.

"Get away from me!" The old lady screeched.

"Fine," Death said, and dissolved into darkness.

The old lady woke to crying, and her oldest grandchild came rushing into the room. "Help!" She gasped.

The old lady rushed into her room, and her heart ached at what she saw.

Lying in her crib was her youngest grandchild, and when the old lady picked her up, her skin was cold, her eyes dull.

And the old lady hung her head and cried. Life and Death were unfair.

The witch had torn robes and gray eyes, her hands glowing a faint blue. She had knotted black hair, with bloodshot eyes and pale yellow skin.

The trees had been her friends for many years, since she had been a young child--a flower child, who had liked to walk with the animals and the forest.

The witch had lived longer than most humans ever could, and she knew dark secrets that nobody should ever know.

The wizard stepped into the copse, he with bright blue eyes and long, silver hair.

"I came," he said, his eyes soft and kind. "Just like I said I would."

"Yes. You came," the witch rasped. "But you're late."

"Nobody else is here," the wizard murmured, looking around.

"They decided it wasn't worth it," the witch replied. "They decided they couldn't bother."

"I can't blame them." The wizard dragged his staff along in the dirt, making a circle. "They gave up long ago."

"You never gave up." The witch bent down, and drew a star in the circle. "You always held your head up high. Always."

"I tried," the wizard said. He sat in the circle, and blew a spell onto it. "But time is closing."

"You're leaving?" The witch asked, her eyes wide.

"Ah, my dear witch," the wizard murmured, "the time comes for everyone."

"I'm coming with you," the witch announced. "If you're leaving, I'm coming."

"There's room in the circle," the wizard said, and moved over a bit, smearing the star.

The witch sat, and gazed at the star. "Let's go." She too blew a spell into the circle, and it started the glow purple.

"I'll see you there," the wizard said, smiling.

The witch closed her eyes and the circle became too bright, and a boom sounded.

And when the witch opened her eyes, she was surrounded by darkness.

"Love is so much easier than you realize"-Dawes

I don't believe that it is too hard to find. There is love in everything, in the maple tree, in your dog, in your family, in your partner and in you.

You can't find love, because it is there all along. You just have to be brave enough to look it in the eyes and embrace it. I think people are afraid of somebody breaking their heart, and that is why it is so hard to find love. But if they were just to live a little, to take chances, love would come much more easier than if they closed up their heart, protecting it. By opening your heart, you are unlocking yourself, giving your raw self to the world. You are taking a chance, one that could result in disaster or in harmony.

But you have to try, don't you?

Live a little.

Love a little.

But this Christmas' disaster was awful, atrocious, epic. A chill went down my spine as I picked up a branch and saw grandpa laying there on the part of the stairs that had not been destroyed.

"Flash, do you think that grandpa is dead??"

"I hope not, because, well,-"

"Because? well? What?!"

"Because he's the grandpa of lifetime, if I was ever scared he would always find something to comfort me." After Flash said those sad words he started to sob.

I knew it was up to me to make Flash feel better like grandpa would have. But what will I do? I thought, as my only grandpa was laying down, still as a rock. I slid down the railing and ran as fast as I could have possibly been running to mom and dad's room. Whenever I see my mom crying I break out in tears, so I walked into my mom and dad's room and told them that grandpa was laying on the stairs and how the stairs had collapsed.

Me my dad and my mom scrambled to our feet and rushed to the stairs. We saw grandpa laying at the top of the stairs, so somehow Flash had hauled grandpa off the stairs and was now trying to figure out wether or not grandpa was alive.

"Flash, we can't get up the stairs they're broken. This might be time to say goodbye

(Check out part 3)