Abigail

When you are forced to live in darkness, you must learn to conjure light.

Between my palms, a tiny ball of pink light appears no bigger than a pea. It moves with my hands, grows when I spread my palms apart and shrinks when I bring them together. I can’t take my eyes off the mesmerizing glow, and neither can the small girl sitting in front of me.

“What is it?”

“I-I don’t know,” I whisper.

“How are you doing it?”

“I’m really not sure.”

She reaches her finger towards the light slowly, hesitantly.

The door flies open. My hands shoot behind my back and the flame is extinguished, but it’s too late. He saw. He comes barreling towards me.

“NO!” he screams, anger flaring in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I cry, but it doesn’t matter.

“NOT IN MY HOUSE!” he’s screaming, “NOT UNDER MY ROOF!”

And then I’m on the ground. Screaming fills the air - but I don’t know who it’s coming from.

And then darkness finds me again.

Quinn

As I opened my eyes early in the morning of my 18th birthday, my thoughts drifted to the nose piercing I was going to get later on that day. I would go after school with my girlfriends to the tattoo parlor and proudly flaunt my ID. I thought of it as a birthday present to myself - I’d saved my pennies for the past six months so I could afford it. But in reality, it was my first taste of freedom as a full-blown (or at least in my opinion I was a full-blown) adult. An October birthday made me the oldest of my small friend group. The others would have to wait until the new year to poke holes in their bodies and permanently paint their skin - without parental consent of course. Which none of us would ever get.

I smiled to myself, reveling in bodily freedom and not even a little bit wary of the impending pain. That nose ring - a small piece of metal penetrating my flesh - consumed my thoughts as I got ready for school that morning. My first act of rebellion - if you could even call it that.

Late October chill bit through my socks and hoodie as I crept through our tiny, single story townhouse. I used the flashlight on my phone to light my way down the hall and into the kitchen, unsure of where the beast had passed out the night before. Any overhead lights would surely send him into a rage, and we couldn’t afford to replace any more furniture. The gentle snores by the front door told me I’d been smart to keep the lights off. The beast was once again slumped across the living room couch.

Cold pizza: perhaps the best birthday breakfast a girl - not girl - woman could ask for. I bit down on the front end, holding it in my mouth while I grabbed my backpack. I could see my friends through the window waiting for me to walk to school. I shined my phone flashlight at them, letting them know I’d be out soon.

Backpack slung lazily over my shoulder, I made my way to the front door. As I reached for the doorknob, however, I made a disgusting discovery that my earlier hypothesis had been inaccurate. The beast was indeed not passed out on the couch. Nope - the sack of shit couldn’t even make it past the threshold of our humble abode. The door remained propped open on his ankles. No wonder it had been so cold. I debated dragging him away from the door by his head, but decided that we needed to maintain our status as the trashiest family in Fairview. He could stay there until the sun set for all I cared. Also, starting out my 18th year with a back injury resulting in hauling my 250 pound father across the living room floor just felt wrong.

I opened the door wide enough to step over his legs and then let it slam back on his ankles. His snoring didn’t subside for a second. I rolled my eyes again and made my way to my friends patiently waiting by the lamppost at the end of the single-car driveway. I chucked my pizza crust into the trees to feed the birds.

Kylee and Elaina were Godsends. The only people in this town that I loved - but of course I would never say that to them.

“Bad night for the swine?” Elaina asked, eyeing my father’s feet in the doorway.

“He’s not the swine anymore, remember?” Kylee stated, “Not since he smashed the kitchen table.”

Elaina snorted, “Oops - I mean beast. Bad night for the beast?”

“Yup, although this is the first time he couldn’t even make it completely into the house. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll stay on the lawn and Saturday he’ll just spend the night in the bar,” I said.

Kylee understood me better than anyone else, although at least she had a mom around sometimes to help with the following day’s cleanup. I’d been riding the dead-beat dad train solo for the past 8 years.

“Honestly, that’s probably the best outcome. At least you won’t have to clean up the piss or vomit,” Kylee laughed, “Oh, and happy birthday!”

“Yeah, happy birthday!” Elaina sang - handing me an extra large iced coffee.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” I yelled, grabbing the coffee. The 4 pumps of vanilla flavored sweetness covered my tongue, the sugar almost canceling out the taste of coffee.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Elain wrapped her arm around my shoulder and pulled me in the direction of our school. The three of us made our way past the crumbling houses and cars that were all somehow engineered before our parents were even conceived.

The sun was just beginning to rise, a hint of purple and orange tinting the sky above. The day felt so… so ordinary. But this didn’t surprise me in the least. The most exciting thing to happen on our rotten side of town was the not-so-occasional bar fight or carjacking. If I could go back, I would cherish this time. Cherish the feeling of comfort and routine - when the ordinary wasn’t an omen.

On the other side of Fairview existed a totally different world. I was sure there was no other town on the planet so starkly split between the rich and the poor. Our side was less than blue collar - welfare dependents, teen-moms, and drunken parents inhabited the crumbling brick townhouses west of the Fairview train tracks. On the other side, however, the people lived in luxury. Us peasants liked to call the east side of Fairview The Kingdom. As a child, my friends and I painted wild fantasies of the movie stars, billionaire bankers, and CEO’s that lived in The Kingdom.

In truth, we could never truly glance into the lives of those elite. They had gated off their community, literally. A security guard in a booth only opened the golden gates to the most deserving community members - those who drove Mazaratis and Audis and wore sunglasses more expensive than my house. When we were younger, my friends and I dreamed of becoming pop stars and making enough money to live in The Kingdom. Now, at the ripe ages of 17 and 18, we knew better. The awe felt at age 10 turned to envy by age 13 and then full-blown hatred by the time we were 16. And we truly did hate them, or the little of them we saw through those golden gates.

We passed the front end of those gates, along with the security booth, every day on our way to school. A silent reminder of the lives we would never live, the things we could never have. We used to believe them when they told us to study hard in school and we, too, could bask in the glory of The Kingdom. That was until we realized that none of the kids that actually lived in The Kingdom would stoop so low as to attend our decrepit public school.

“Are you going to do it tonight?” Elaina asked, smiling coyly as we rounded the corner away from the gates and up to the front doors of West Fairview High School.

“Only if there’s nothing better to do,” I shrugged coolly.

Kylee snorted, “Oh yeah, like you have so many options on a Thursday night in Fairview.”

“Fuck off,” I retorted, “Anyways, I’m getting my nose pierced after school and I need at least one of you to come with me to clean up the blood. And if I don’t pass out, then maybe I will consider kissing the prince.”

“Oh you have to! It’s tradition,” Elaina said. She was such a fluff. As much as our little friend group complained about this god-forsaken town and the outdated minds of those who lived here, Elaina still relished certain legends.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out a cigarette, holding it in my mouth while I searched my bag for a lighter.

“Maybe Quinn doesn’t want to be whisked off by a rich, magical prince,” said Kylee, “Maybe she wants to be a strong, independent woman and support herself stripping at the Lad’s Club for the rest of her life.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, cigarette still hanging from my lips, “the West Fairview way. I’m nothing if not patriotic.”

Elaina rolled her eyes, “Whatever - do what you want Quinn. But you better be right next to me when I kiss the prince on my 18th birthday.”

“Fine,” I agreed sarcastically, “And when the dead prince opens his eyes and declares his love to you, I’ll yell good riddance, you can have her crazy ass. And then I’ll go visit you in the psych hospital once a month.”

Elaina huffed in annoyance but Kylee howled with laughter. Kylee and Elaina were the perfect mix of friends. As much as I busted on Elaina, I needed someone to balance out Kylee’s negativity. They were yin and yang and I fell… somewhere in the middle. While Kylee rolled her eyes at the 300 year tradition of kissing the stone prince on your 18th birthday, Elaina couldn’t wait to partake in the fun. Kylee tended to be more practical, if not cynical, while Elaina lived fully and blissfully in the clouds. Of course, their backgrounds probably swayed their personalities most of all. Kylee’s dad was like mine, but worse. At least my dad fell asleep when he got home from the bar. Kylee’s shown up at my house on more than one occasion to escape her father’s alcohol-fueled wrath. It was a good night when she managed to get out in time before his fists began swinging.

Elaina’s parents were pretty stable. Neither one had a substance issue, but they just couldn’t stop popping out babies. I’m pretty sure Elaina shared a room with three of her younger sisters, but she hasn’t had us over in years so I really can’t say. Her younger siblings made her broody, and some days she droned on and on about whether she wanted 5 or 6 kids of her own when she got married.

I gave up looking for a lighter and was about to jam my cigarette back in the box in frustration when a flame appeared in front of my face.

“My hero” I muttered, leaning into the lighter and inhaling through the cigarette.

“Anything for you, beautiful,” Jamie said, winking.

“Fuck off.”

Jamie just laughed at my crude response.

“We’ll catch you later,” Kylee said knowingly, grabbing Elaina’s hand and pulling her up the stairs of our high school.

I turned to Jamie, who was lighting a cigarette of his own. Jamie was hot, but in a grungy kind of way. Anywhere else, he would be a 5. In West Fairview, however, Jamie was a solid 9. His curly dark hair hung close to his shoulders in a misunderstood, punk kind of way. His clothes never fit him, his t-shirts often reached his knees and his pants were too baggy. Outsiders would construe this as stylish and trendy, but the truth was that everything he owned was a hand me down from his dad or older brothers. Nevertheless, I liked his style.

“Doing anything for the big one eight?” he asked, smoke pouring from his mouth.

“Getting a hole in my nose.”

“Hot,” Jamie said, winking again, “When can I give you my gift?”

“Depends,” I said.

“On?”

“Is it a real gift or is this just another way of asking for sex?”

Jamie laughed easily, “Definitely sex. But maybe I can steal a beer or two from my dad? The good kind, nothing lite. Would that count?”

I took another drag from my cigarette, considering his proposal. “I’ll text you tonight and let you know.”

Jamie grabbed my cheek gently and turned my head in his direction. He looked at me expectantly. I pursed my lips and slowly blew smoke directly into his face in response. I often sensed that Jamie wanted more than whatever we had at the time. But knew I could never give him that.

“See you later maybe,” I teased, backing away from his hand and heading towards the front door. I dropped my cig and crushed it under my foot before starting up the concrete steps. I felt Jamie’s eyes on my back and, once he could no longer see me, allowed the small smile to creep across my face like a stupid blushing child.