I watched her stand on her tiptoes stretching to reach the last of the dust. She would never get the back corner. She has a ladder in the garage she could use, but she is rather lazy. I turn away as I can promptly predict how the rest of the day will go. I feel the desperation to leave this person. But I have been assigned to stay here until time comes to retrieve me. They call it learning. But there is simply nothing I could possibly learn from Starely.

“Babe? You home?” The voice thunders over, causes her to slip but then she catches herself. The world is too kind to her sometimes. I glare at the direction of the voice, not that he would notice me. Not that they could see me. “Yeah, I’m in here,” she calls out. Giving no further direction. She’s still slightly mad from the night before, when he arrived twenty minutes late smelling sour and acting drowsy. He passed out upon his arrival. If I had eyes to roll, this would certainly be the right time. I know too much about this person.

“What are you doing up there?” He asks, quizzled, arriving at the kitchen. But if he would further assess the situation, he would see the disinfectant in her hand and the dusting cloth on the floor. Oh, these people are driving me rather insane.

“I’m cleaning,” she says shortly, stating the obvious. “My mom is coming, you have to go.” Ah. The lovely secrets kept from those who adore her. Of course no one knows about her relationship. Why would they? There was a restraining order against him!

“Why didn’t you tell me last night, dear?” He never calls her dear.

“I would have,” she says, turning to finally look at him. She gives him her rather fake smile he always falls for. He almost smiles back, but instead gives a slight frown. “But babe, you passed out as soon as you got here.” She scrunches her nose and gives him a big innocent look. People are rather annoying. He looks panicked for a fraction of a second, worried, insecure. But throws it away quickly. Too quickly for the girl to notice. As she usually doesn’t tend to notice most things. “But you still love me,” he says smirking, confidently. She almost gives him a real smile. She jumps off the kitchen island and gives him a hug. “Of course I do,” she whispers in his ear. But her mind drifts to casually wondering if she really does love him. She eyes the clock. Two hours until her mother arrives. “Babe, you have to go, she’ll be here soon, we’ll catch up later.” She smiles sweetly. He winks at her, thinking they’re on the same page. “I’ll go over to my uncles.” He lets her know, but they both know that’s the only place he ever goes. But she nods along like it’s a good idea and pretends to look stressed in the midst of her cleaning. Of course, most of these are my assumptions, but after being here for three years, I can keep up. Her writings all point to her perspectives on things as well. And his random outbursts also contribute to my accusations. I often wonder who is more naive out of the two.

I will follow him today. Since I have hung out with the girl all this morning and afternoon. A change of scenery would be nice. But instead of the usual drive to his uncles, he only drives down the street. He stops at a small brick house. He is unacquainted with anyone on this block. His sudden change is questionable.

“Now I wait,” he says, talking out loud. And if I were visible, he would be staring right at me. “Let’s see if her mother is actually almost there. Because last time, I don’t think she ever arrived.” Dumbfounded, I look at the young boy. Do I really know these people as much as I believe?

Karly stood at the edge of the cliff, staring at the water, looking for a light. The only thing that made you appreciated in Luxiland. The jump to retrieve the light would be dangerous, and potentially, life-threatening. But she needed to satisfy her hunger for the light. Just one more, just one more. The yearning, calling of the light. Karlyy…. Karly….Karlyy… It seemed to whisper. A sound so quiet, only her soul heard. Karly…

-Three months earlier-

She hadn’t always been that way, obsessed with the light. She had been a common street folk, loved by those near, but hated by those outside. It was the day she slid into the cart out of curiosity that changed her perspective.

Lights. Glittering and shining across the surface of the people’s skin. What was that? She had to have it. It was mesmerizing. The light that reflected off many, some more than others. It danced with the people, it had its own life.

The cart stopped abruptly. Karly peered out once more and then took off and ran. Faster, faster, faster. On top of the stone floor, crashing through dull colored laundry. Faster, faster. The thundering footsteps closer, closer, closer…and yells behind her soon diminished as she strove into a small hut. Safe, she sighed.

“Who are you?” A little boy, the age of five asked pointedly. Karly looked at him cautiously. A dim ray of light glowed from beneath his skin. “Karly,” she slipped, trusting the light. The beautiful tranquil light. “Why do you have a light?”

“It’s Luxiland. The island of light,” the boy said, tilting his head, wondering why she had asked such a dumb question. Karly frowned at the face. She only wanted answers. “How do you get the light?”

“Through good deeds, or you can find it, but it hurts to put inside, some people buy it, but not many have money,” the boy replied matter-of-factly. “I want some,” Karly slipped again, her eyes transfixed on his illuminating eyes. She was unable to keep the words and thoughts from coming out. She was unable to hear the small sentence the boy said. Too much of it will kill you. The boy shrugged, wondering what the big deal was. He walked out then, as if realizing he had better things to do.

Karly snapped out of it then, stood up, grabbed a cloth which looked like the clothes that was worn here, and headed to find a light, she needed some.

For the next two months she genuinely cared about the people around her and received a lot of light. She made friends, money, and was starting to become the new popular one everyone wanted to be amongst. But when a newer, prettier, and nicer girl came through, it all stopped. Her light started dimming. But she longed for more. And her good intentions soon turned into jealousy. Mad at the prettier ones. Mad at the richer ones. It was all comparisons. But she had enough, she wanted to risk everything for the light she was so dearly drawn to. The light that sang, the light that bathed you like the warm sun. So when she heard the rumors about the light in the ocean, she knew she had to go find it. It was the best source, the one only few acquired. She wanted it all for herself.

Maybe she also wanted proof that she could be like the others. Maybe she just felt like she needed to prove herself in general. Maybe she thought her friends were actual friends. It didn’t matter though. No one heard her screams as she injected the light. No one heard her pleads of help. No one heard about the girl again. It was just assumed she moved. But every so often, we hear the light. Screaming softly in the distance. A different name, and then they’re gone.

The light has a want for humans. Too many of them though, will break her into a thousand little pieces.

it started slow, like any relationship does, you and me, taking a walk, at the time we thought nothing

no, you wouldn’t be a boy to push me tight against a wall

no, you wouldn’t keep me there and not let me go

no, that wasn’t you

we were just walking, and you were a sweet boy

darkness wouldn’t be casted upon us and my screams wouldn’t be silenced

no, that wasn’t you

i only tried to see the best, when everyone thought i was crazy

i said it was my fault, surely i could have done something

but everyone thought i was crazy

and as crazy as it seems, i miss you, because I know you were good

I know you didn’t mean how it all came out

all you ever wanted was to be loved

all you ever wanted was it to be right

but all you ever got was pain, hurt, rejection

i’m sorry

i know you mean well, but i can’t be your toxic treat anymore

It was going to happen

We knew I was going to break your heart

We both knew

We let it happen

I’m sorry, I tried

I‘m sorry, it didn’t work

I’m sorry, it had to happen

You were hesitant

You couldn’t trust me

You only ever wanted me

You knew it wouldn’t happen

We still make eye contact

I’m still questioning

You still look mad

It was going to happen

I need to know

How you went

From saying I’m your everything

To dating within the month

I need to know

Why you did

I thought you were mine

I was waiting, I was waiting

For us to maybe work it out once more

But instead I hear from a guy that’s not your friend

“Oh yeah, he doesn’t even care”

I need to know

That when we made eye contact

Were you through

Do you hate me

It makes me want to yell

WHAT DID I DO

So maybe I miss you

Clear blue eyes

The sweet care you always gave

Why did I find out yesterday

Tormented, stung, rejected

Literally how

I thought I wouldn’t cry over you again

Are you even going to wish

Me a Happy Birthday

I didn't expect to get a call. I never get phone calls. But after hitting a perfect serve and going to get water, my phone starts going off. I have no idea who it is. I decline the call and start packing up. It rings again. I decline again. I'm almost at my car when it rings again. The caller is persistent.

"Hello?" I give in.

"Alana." His voice. I get chills, and I nearly hang up. "Please, don't hang up." Frustrated, I dump my things inside the car, just as another car ups in. One of the guys is here to play tennis.

"What do you want," I say, as the guy gets out and gives me a nod. I nod back and get inside my car.

"I just wanted to hear your-"

"Don't pull that crap, please, don't pull that crap," I interrupt. I hear a sigh from the other side. "I blocked you, this isn't your number, what do you want?"

"Maybe an explanation?" he replies. I freeze. The one thing I didn't want to talk about, the thing I haven't talked about for months. I start to laugh. "You called me... for an explanation?" I ask as if he were the idiot, and I wasn't the one who messed up.

"Alana..." he sighs, "Okay, fine, talk, about anything please." There's something about his voice that indicates pain, and if anything, I do owe him. "Okay," I breathed. "Where are you?" I ask, I always ask. I want to visually see what's around him and what his facial reactions will be as I talk. "I don't think you want to know," he says softly. "Liam," I start. "Alana," he says back. "Where are you?" I question, again, nervously. "I had a car accident."

"What?" No, no, no. "Are you good? Did you call someone?"

"I'm alright, I'm talking to you am I not?" "Liam, this is serious, are you okay?" I ask, I don't even notice the tears that fall off my face until I catch my reflection in the review mirror. "Alana, I called someone, but I don't feel anything, I'm not sure if...I'd make it."

"Liam," my voice cracks, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Alana, just talk, please?" I give him what he wants, and I talk about my day, about the previous days, about everything, and anything new. It's not a lot. "Liam? I love you. I'm sorry." But I don't get a response from him. It's a man instead.

"He's lost a lot of blood, do CPR."

Into the phone, "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Will he be alright?" I question. There's a pause as if he were looking up at one of his men.

"I don't know," he says softly and hangs up.

Be real. How many times have I been fake?

I'm always fake, I tell everyone, does that somehow make me less fake?

I say one story to one person and a different thing to another. And then I go back to the person I spoke about and say it's not true.

I'm a mess. And I want a clean start. But now he's gone, and I know I messed up. It was my idea, for him to be gone.

I told my friends he pressured me when if I didn't say anything, was that really pressure? I could've stopped it. But I believed the lies I conceived.

I told one person I did truly love him, and my closest friends I didn't. Am I just scared of their judgment?

How many times has he told me not to care what other people think?

At times, I know he was good for me.

But in my head, I'm a mess, knowing and believing that he is bad.

He waved at me. Yesterday, when I fully thought he was done with me, after all, it was me that blocked him and didn't respond. I turned around. And looking at the other people in the room Why do you always care what other people think?

I turn back, and see his playful shock what? not gonna wave back?

I smile and wave back.

Today, I didn't see him. I tell my friends, yesterday was traumatizing. But was it?

Truth be told, I was ashamed of being with him. I do care what other people think. But while at the same time, I do truly know that he wasn't all that good, neither am I.

But have my deceits made me believe I'm not in love with him anymore?

Because now I look at him and don't feel a thing.

I'm fake.

I look through the window in the door. A fragile girl is on the bed, dead. Gone for five minutes. The grieving faces of three around, the rest of her family, not in town. She is a girl who could have had a better life. She looks innocent on the small bed, in the small room. But I know her better. She procrastinates. Perhaps, if she had tried, her grades could've been all A's. She's lazy. She's disobedient. She's manipulative. And she's dishonest. And the biggest thing. She made a mistake, which led to another. One which people say it's not her fault, but she knows that it is. The things with the guy should have never ended, they should have never started. She's not as innocent as she makes it sound. I walk out.

"Mili?" I turn around. My brother. I smile. "I love you," I say, not expecting him to say it back. He never says it back. If he's nice he'll say I love you a little bit. "I love you too," he says, and comes and hugs me. "I thought you were dead." I hug him back, I've always loved his rare hugs. I ruffle his hair and step back. "There's something I have to do." I turn and start to leave, repeating the addresses in my head. "But Mom, and Dad." I look back. "I'll be back." I walk. I don't feel a thing. I walk until I'm familiar again with the streets, and I go back to my house. The small city I loathed at once, was much better than the big one. I open the garage and let myself in. It's my house, I remind myself, taking the image of the dead girl out of my head. I can't be dead. I have too many regrets. I go to my room. It's messy, unkept, and untouched. I grab my now broken phone from my desk and my wallet. I call an uber. He comes and drops me off without many words. I look up at the house. I check my phone. It's Wednesday, she's at her mom's. The cars are all there, including hers. I nearly smile. I knock. The first door opens. Sara. "Oh my god, I thought you were dead," she opens the clear door. I see the tears fall as she leans for a hug. "I'm still here, How's Conner?" My usual question. She retracts. "He's fine, his usual," she says nodding. "How are you...?" I shake my head. "I came to say I'm sorry. For the times I wasn't all there, for the times I ignored you, my best friend. You were always there. I love you and Conner together, and I understand that you're not always going to be all there for me either. I'm sorry I was jealous. But you truly are my best friend, and a great one too. I love you, I'm sorry." She then comes forth and says things too, her regrets and decisions. She's sorry too. I then say I have to go, that there's something else I need to do.

I look at the small house. Not eager to go in. The drive over here was a haul. And I'm pretty sure my card is nearly out of money. The door opens. I don't move from my spot on the street. "Mili?" I just stare. Sim. He runs over. "I thought I lost you." He starts for a hug, then retracts, remembering how we ended. "Are you okay?" He doesn't know I'm dead. I shudder at my thoughts. "I'm better now," I reply, unconsciously and nearly smile. What am I doing? Just as he's turning down towards me, I move. "No, this isn't what I came for. I need to speak, and I need you to please listen." "You have my full attention." "I'm sorry from the beginning. I wasn't really that much into you. Later I was into you, but I also don't appreciate what you did. I wasn't ready. And I'm sorry for not trying to stay with you, it just wasn't the time. I'm not in love with you, but I have respect for you, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you this sooner." My eyes had wandered, me unable to meet his eyes. I already know the words before they come out of his mouth. "Well that hurt," he says, taking a step back. "I'm glad you were honest." I look up and remember the boy I used to love. If I tried, I know I could still love him. But my life is gone. And I've only ever caused him pain. "I'm sorry for making you believe you had a chance and for breaking up with you 9 times after saying I was committed." He closes his eyes. "It's alright Miliana, I'm just glad you're okay." I nod and turn, happy that the confession is out. I should have done this a long time ago. Back when I was alive. I shake my head and start walking away. “Hug?” I turn around, thinking back to that one time. I smile and lean into him. I’m forgiven. Was that so hard? I shake my head at the fact that I was unable to do this before. Before disappearing from his view, I turn back around and see the boy who thought he would marry me. Months ago, I would have agreed. Weeks ago, I’d deny I ever loved him. Now, I know there’s not a chance. I went back to my house, put my card and phone back. And arrive at the hospital. I call out my brother's name. He’s a few feet ahead of me. He doesn’t turn around. I call out again, fearing I’m too late. Please. No. I‘m gone. The images of laughter, the thoughts of me not being able to see him grow up. My friends. My life. It’s all gone, but my regrets, I have fixed. I sent a text out, explaining everything I’ve ever done wrong. I apologized for giving people the wrong impression of Sim, the wrong impression of me. I’m the one that’s fake. And while I do have peace, and know I am forgiven. I still wish I could go back. And all at once, everything goes blank.

I look through the window in the door. A fragile girl is on the bed, dead. Gone for five minutes. The grieving faces of three around, the rest of her family, not in town. She is a girl who could have had a better life. She looks innocent on the small bed, in the small room. But I know her better. She procrastinates. Perhaps, if she had tried, her grades could've been all A's. She's lazy. She's disobedient. She's manipulative. And she's dishonest. And the biggest thing. She made a mistake, which led to another. One which people say it's not her fault, but she knows that it is. The things with the guy should have never ended, they should have never started. She's not as innocent as she makes it sound. I walk out.

"Mili?" I turn around. My brother. I smile. "I love you," I say, not expecting him to say it back. He never says it back. If he's nice he'll say I love you a little bit. "I love you too," he says, and comes and hugs me. "I thought you were dead." I hug him back, I've always loved his rare hugs. I ruffle his hair and step back. "There's something I have to do." I turn and start to leave, repeating the addresses in my head. "But Mom, and Dad." I look back. "I'll be back." I walk. I don't feel a thing. I walk until I'm familiar again with the streets, and I go back to my house. The small city I loathed at once, was much better than the big one. I open the garage and let myself in. It's my house, I remind myself, taking the image of the dead girl out of my head. I can't be dead. I have too many regrets. I go to my room. It's messy, unkept, and untouched. I grab my now broken phone from my desk and my wallet. I call an uber. He comes and drops me off without many words. I look up at the house. I check my phone. It's Wednesday, she's at her mom's. The cars are all there, including hers. I nearly smile. I knock. The first door opens. Sara. "Oh my god, I thought you were dead," she opens the clear door. I see the tears fall as she leans for a hug. "I'm still here, How's Conner?" My usual question. She retracts. "He's fine, his usual," she says nodding. "How are you...?" I shake my head. "I came to say I'm sorry. For the times I wasn't all there, for the times I ignored you, my best friend. You were always there. I love you and Conner together, and I understand that you're not always going to be all there for me either. I'm sorry I was jealous. But you truly are my best friend, and a great one too. I love you, I'm sorry." She then comes forth and says things too, her regrets and decisions. She's sorry too. I then say I have to go, that there's something else I need to do.

I look at the small house. Not eager to go in. The drive over here was a haul. And I'm pretty sure my card is nearly out of money. The door opens. I don't move from my spot on the street. "Mili?" I just stare. Sim. He runs over. "I thought I lost you." He starts for a hug, then retracts, remembering how we ended. "Are you okay?" He doesn't know I'm dead. I shudder at my thoughts. "I'm better now," I reply, unconsciously and nearly smile. What am I doing? Just as he's turning down towards me, I move. "No, this isn't what I came for. I need to speak, and I need you to please listen." "You have my full attention." "I'm sorry from the beginning. I wasn't really that much into you. Later I was into you, but I also don't appreciate what you did. I wasn't ready. And I'm sorry for not trying to stay with you, it just wasn't the time. I'm not in love with you, but I have respect for you, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you this sooner." My eyes had wandered, me unable to meet his eyes. I already know the words before they come out of his mouth. "Well that hurt," he says, taking a step back. "I'm glad you were honest." I look up and remember the boy I used to love. If I tried, I know I could still love him. But my life is gone. And I've only ever caused him pain. "I'm sorry for making you believe you had a chance and for breaking up with you 9 times after saying I was committed." He closes his eyes. "It's alright Miliana, I'm just glad you're okay." I nod and turn, happy that the confession is out. I should have done this a long time ago. Back when I was alive. I shake my head and start walking away. “Hug?” I turn around, thinking back to that one time. I smile and lean into him. I’m forgiven. Was that so hard? I shake my head at the fact that I was unable to do this before. Before disappearing from his view, I turn back around and see the boy who thought he would marry me. Months ago, I would have agreed. Weeks ago, I’d deny I ever loved him. Now, I know there’s not a chance. I went back to my house, put my card and phone back. And arrive at the hospital. I call out my brother's name. He’s a few feet ahead of me. He doesn’t turn around. I call out again, fearing I’m too late. Please. No. I‘m gone. The images of laughter, the thoughts of me not being able to see him grow up. My friends. My life. It’s all gone, but my regrets, I have fixed. I sent a text out, explaining everything I’ve ever done wrong. I apologized for giving people the wrong impression of Sim, the wrong impression of me. I’m the one that’s fake. And while I do have peace, and know I am forgiven. I still wish I could go back. And all at once, everything goes blank.