I felt the razor sharp sting of the crisp fall breeze lashing against my cheeks as I walked away from the building. My friends were waving casually as I walked away from them, their faces expressionless.

Only one of them seemed to care, and she ran forward as I began to walk away.

“Wait!” she half-shouted with laughter. “Not so fast…Jeez!”

            I chuckled, turning around to look at her. Her hair was such a dark brown that it seemed almost black in the dim light. The sun was already starting to set, its glow bringing out the luster in her beautiful chocolate brown eyes. She hugged me close for a moment, and then laughed, pulling away.

            “You sure you don’t need a ride?” she asked again, even though I’d told her several times that I was fine.

            “No,” I replied with a smile. “I got it all covered.”

            “If you say so…” she trailed off in doubt, her lips puckering. I chuckled.

            “Just go home!” I shouted playfully, and she laughed, running back to join the others. I continued walking then, my eyes set on the two mile walk I had ahead of me. Walking never really bothered me though, so it didn’t matter if I was walking 2 miles, or 200. It would just take a little longer…

            The sky’s colors twisted into a rainbow of warmth as I left the school parking lot where I’d hugged my best friend. The colors reminded me of my father, wherever he was….

            It didn’t matter what I thought about that whole mess now. So I pushed it away, remembering the look on my best friend’s face just moments ago. She seemed so happy, so carefree. How I longed to feel that way! Her eyes—every time I gazed into them I felt hope, I felt alive, and I felt like I truly had a purpose here.

            I could hear the wind picking up over the blaring of my music in my ears, trying to drown out everything except the screaming voice of the singer. She was murmuring in pain, telling me why someone had left her…I liked listening to music…It took my mind off my own troubles and brought me face to face with the troubles of those around me.

            The sun drifted further and further behind the hills, setting just as I unlocked the door to my house. I stepped in slowly, throwing my things down by the door carelessly.

            It was completely desolate inside; none of the lights were on, but there was a note beside the telephone. “Dear Natasha,” it said:

            I’m out for dinner with a friend. I’ll be back soon.

                                                          Love,

                                                                   Mom

Well that fine script didn’t last too long. The note was off the wall and in the trash before I had even read the first out of the two lame sentences.

            What did I matter to her anyway? She treated me like a daughter, sure, when she was around. But that amount of time didn’t seem like enough.

            I scowled into the darkness, stomping up to my room. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as I walked in, and I half-screamed when it began to move against my leg.

            “Jesus!” I whispered to the darkness. I pulled out my phone while simultaneously flipping on the light.

            The message was from my best buddy again:

            Hey sista! Sup? Haha I just wanted to make sure u got home ok! Oh and btw, aren’t you excited?! We’re in the playoffs! XD

            I chuckled at her ridiculous spelling and sighed. Yeah, I was excited about the playoffs, but I didn’t really care as a side-note to everything else. Sure it took away my problems for a few hours, but that just meant they came back ten times stronger when I got home…

            I sighed again, throwing my phone onto my bed with a soft thump. I flipped on my slow computer and started on my trig homework, hoping by some miracle that it would just finish itself without my help.

            It was well into the night before I even considered trying to start on my English report, so I gave up then, falling back on my pillows with a sigh. My brownish black hair fell about my face in layers, blinding my hazel eyes from the bright lamp that shined in them.

            I let my thoughts drift away, to a place where there was no pain, and no hatred, and no fear…

            Moments after I closed my eyes, I was drifting into a semi-restless, semi-peaceful sleep………….

            As the girl walks through the moonlit meadow, her hazel eyes shining in the dim light, she hears a noise. She gasps, moving her dark brown hair out of her eyes. The hair is so dark it looks black in the night, the darkness shooting splinters of navy along the locks.

            The leaves of the bushes nearby startle her; she quickens her step to match the howl of the wind. Her footsteps stop as she reaches the lake, the large pond in the center of the beautiful clearing where she is to meet him.

            But he is not here.

            She looks around in confusion, wondering why the man she seeks is not there. She remembers when she followed him here before.

            “Hello,” a voice calls to her seductively. She turns expectantly, her eyes filling with hope. But this is not the man she is looking for.

            “Who are you?” she asks softly, her footsteps like whispers as she begins her retreat to the trees. The man is faster, his hands clasp over her mouth as she is about to scream, her hands pulled around his neck.

            The lanky man smiles at her, his shaggy black hair hangs in his eyes as it drops to his chin. His eyes, black as pitch in the dark light of the moon, stare straight at her bosom, the greedy hands reaching for her as she writhes and screams beneath his hold.

            “St—” she begins, but his hand is too quick. Her shouting is silenced, her body going limp as she realizes she cannot win.

            The man chuckles at his victory, throwing her to the forest’s earthen floor. Something cracks—her wrist or arm, perhaps?—as she falls, and the man is on top of her in the dark.

            Her protests fade to nothing, soft cries of pain as she lies below him on the ground, his arms constricting her, lips imprisoning her. The shine in her eyes is disappearing, fear and pain filling them in its place.

            She tries to stand up as the pressure lessens on her hips. The man allows her to sit up, his breathing ragged as he throws her clothing away from him toward the water. She runs after it in embarrassment, her fair cheeks flushing a beautiful red.

            As the cold wind fades from the surface of her skin the footsteps approach her once more. The man’s arms are around her, imprisoning her body in their strangely muscular grasp.

            “Please,” she begs, her broken wrist screaming in protest as she pushes against his rock hard chest.

            “Shh,” he purrs seductively, his hands tracing the patterns on her palms. She barely notices the gleaming blade as he brings it up to her neck, touching the cool metal to her vulnerable skin. Her breathing speeds as the tiniest bit of pressure causes the blade to puncture the soft flesh of her neck.

            She shivers at the warmth of the rich fluid running down her neck into her hair, her teeth rattling from the cold.

            But now he is here…

            She screams toward the other set of footsteps, begging them to never come closer. The footsteps pause in their tracks, and there is a cry sounding from them.

            “No! Anastasia!” his voice screams, and the footsteps quicken to a run. Again she shouts against him, her voice cracking as she cries.

            “Don’t come closer!” she shouts as the gleaming blade of the knife reflects into the man’s eyes. He stops then, his muscles contracting as he tries to understand. But the man holding her chuckles, bringing the blade closer to her neck.

            Anastasia’s eyes turn glassy, unfocused, as she begins to think. She did not want him hurt, yet she knew the only way to escape from this horrible man was by using that knife against him. The one who had just approached would be hurt if she did this…She knew that…and it hurt her, too…

            “She’s mine,” the rapist screams, the knife gliding still closer, deeper into the flesh of her neck. She lifts her hand from his grasp, almost as if she is caressing his cheek. Her fingers gracefully touch the surface of his brownish-red beard and trace down toward the corners of his lips. Her fingers retrace the lines, and find something that raises the shiver in her breath. Anastasia’s fingers trace from his eye to his nose, where the surface of the skin is raised slightly higher. A knife wound, a scar, embedded into his countenance forever…

She can feel him shiver in delight as her fingers trace and retrace the lines of his face, while the other man watches in disbelief.

            “James,” she sighs, looking into the man’s eyes as he stares at her with the rapist’s hands around her. “Please forgive me for all of this.” Her other hand frees itself and begins to reach toward him.

            James reaches toward her outstretched hand, the muscles in his hand flexing uncomfortably as he leaned toward her. The rapist turns her to the side slightly, positioning his body between them.

            “I’m sorry,” she says again, and her hand that is tracing the man’s face grabs the dagger at her throat. With a swift movement she slices the skin of her throat, warm blood spilling onto the shirt of the rapist, who stands astonished beside the dying woman. But her hand holding the dagger moves forward, and the blade pierces the heart of the rapist, his face contorts in confusion and fear as death falls upon him.

            James screams, his eyes flooding with tears at the sight of Anastasia’s lifeless form before him. Her body sways backward, the feet losing homage of the earth. She falls backward as James stares after her, her throat still spilling her innocent blood. The water encompasses her in its bosom, carrying her to the bottom of the lake with a gentle, yet frighteningly strong pressure. And she is gone…

            James finds the rapist’s body lying face down near the pond’s edge. The pressure of the body forces the blade deep inside the flesh; he leans the carcass over and slowly unsheathes the blade from the disgusting flesh. The blade slid easily into his pocket, perfectly undetectable.

            Anastasia’s eyes seem to be staring at him from where her body lay in the bottom of the lake. But he does not care about that. He has seen the look in her eyes, the beautiful shine, and smiles.

            But the rapist’s body cannot be that lucky. Into the lake of 50,000 bodies—the lake stained with the blood of the innocent—James throws the rapist, where his flesh became food for the bacteria and creatures of the deep.

            James walks away from the pond again, his face staring straight forward, unable to believe what has happened.

            “I’m sorry,” she had said. James feels the tears gathering in his eyes as he walks away from the lake; he takes the knife, but leaves his heart behind him—next to Anastasia’s in the bottom of the lake.

            His eyes do not look back as he walks through the moonlit field of blood. His hands clench tightly to the gleaming blade, the reflection of the black sky shines into his eyes.

            And the regret is eating him alive. If he had been there just a moment earlier, she would still be alive. Her blood lies on the grass because of him, her eyes stare into a sea of nothingness because of him, and her life ended before she had a chance to live…because of him.

            The beads of sweat were rolling down my temples. My eyes fought to open, but the blackness in front of them was too inviting to ignore. My breathing sped, and the visions changed.

            James walks solemnly toward her as she gazes unwillingly toward him. Her kind green eyes stare straight into his, their gaze unbreakable, a beautiful bond holding them together.

            “Selene,” he breathes, inhaling the scent of her hair as it permeates his senses. She smiles at the sound of her name and begins to walk with him, their backs on civilization, their footsteps leading them to a dreadfully familiar place.

My breathing deepened, and I screamed. I knew where they were going…

“James, where are we going?” Selene asks, her hand clasping his in a beautiful way. He does not smile now as they enter the shade of the trees; instead his face morphs in sadness, the pain clear in his eyes.

            “There is something I need to tell you,” he says slowly, his voice shaking from the pain.

            “I am here. I am listening,” she replies solemnly, curling her fingers against his hand. Her fingers trace lightly up his arm, and they freeze there in shock. There on his arm, starting from his wrist and moving up toward his elbow, are lines. Her fingers trace these lines with wary curiosity, but then the gleam of silver from his pocket sends fear through her.

            “That girl that died a year ago…” he says, his eyes staring at the lake’s waters as they rippled softly in the breeze. “I…I…love her…” his voice constricts in pain as he turns to see Selene’s reaction.

            Her eyes close as he looks toward her, and a scream echoes from her lips.

            “No,” she whispers, “No, no, no, no. It can’t be…because…because…” And she begins to cry, her eyes red and swollen from the salt water that pours from them incessantly.

            “Because…?” James prompts her gently, his arms grabbing her shoulders now.

            “Be—because…Because…I love her, too…” Selene gasps through her tears.

            James’ hands fall from her shoulders; he cannot believe these words…

            “W-what?” James repeats in a daze, his eyes staring now at the lake’s edge.

            “I loved her…I still do…” Selene whispers. Her eyes follow his to the edge of the lake, then move quickly back to his arm, and see the lines, red and oozing… “You…you…cut yourself?” she half-shouts almost insanely.

            James’ eyes stare at the ground, ashamed as he tries to hide the knife from her.

            “Selene, I am so sorry,” he begs. “I would have told you sooner…”

            “It would have made no difference,” she argues. “My life was going to end either way…”

            James’ eyebrows rise in confusion, but before he can comprehend, the blade in his pocket is gone. Selene’s fingers clasp the blade now, her hands poised to plunge its deadly tip into the skin of her bosom.

            “No! Selene, please!” James shouts against her, grabbing her small wrists in his hands.

            “Let go of me!” she screams back at him, her eyes flooding with tears from her sobbing.

            “Please don’t do this to me!” James pleads, his arms reaching for the knife, trying to pry it from her lethal, vice-grip hands. She resists against him futilely, and James’ mind begins to remember.

            This has happened before…he reasons in his mind that he has seen this…

            “No!” Selene screams against him, struggling to grab the knife in her frenzy. James clasps her hands tightly, trying to cut off the circulation that flows there.

            I gasped. Another person was coming. My entire frame began to shake as I tried to scream at them, to warn them that she was coming. The Hunter was here…

            Her stride is lethal; her footsteps are silent as she creeps forward upon them. Her slim, beautifully attractive body glides through the brush unknowingly, until she stops, seeing the man with the girl in the middle of the clearing.

            She sees this scene, and pain rushes through her. Not another victim, she thinks solemnly. I cannot let this happen again…

            The rifle slides down her shoulder like the whisper of the wind, and the bullets fly into the barrel with alarming silence. Selene’s hands release the dagger now, the blood flow has stopped. James holds it now triumphantly above him…

            The Hunter gasps.

            “No,” she whispers. “I will not let another innocent girl be the victim of this terrible crime. Not after the death of that other girl. My brother’s crimes shall be avenged here…”

            “Rape!” I screamed. “But that’s not true! No! Don’t! Please!”

            The bullet flies from the rifle, soaring with alarming speed toward James shoulder. He screams, the bullet pulverizing his shoulder blade, shattering his entire arm and the rib cage into splinters.

            “No!” Selene cries; her arms flutter uselessly as she tries to help him.

            James’ eyes are clouded, covered in a layer of smoke, as he falls forward. The shining dagger, still in his hands, plunges into Selene’s shoulder…

            She yells toward the edges of the clearing, her words full of anger.

            “How could you?!” she shouts toward the place where the Hunter stands. Her eyes, glassy and red with blood, stare straight at the Hunter as she runs toward them.

            “No!” the Hunter screams desperately, shoving James’ body away from the girl. But her breathing is already slowing, her chest barely moving as she stares loathingly into the Hunter’s eyes.

            “James…” she breathes calmly, her hand stretching for him through the darkness.

            A low chuckle.

            “Selene,” he replies, his hand clasping hers. The Hunter watches this in fascination, and realizes her mistake. The two of them breathe their last breath together, as the Hunter runs out of the clearing in fear.

            “No!” I shouted so loudly I was sure everyone and their grandmother had heard me. I was in my bed, pillow drenched with the beads of sweat that had rolled off my head. What the hell had just happened?

            Or maybe that wasn’t sweat that drenched my pillow. I heard a soft wailing, and it gradually was growing louder, drowning out everything. It took me a moment before I realized that those were my sobs…

            What was all that? And why had the first girl—Anastasia—looked just like…………me?

            My breathing didn’t slow, and the screams didn’t stop. The sun was beginning to rise in the East through my open window. Open? I never remembered opening it…Maybe that explained why everything had seemed so real…

            I blinked slowly, focusing on the patterns on my walls to calm me down. Of course, like most things I try to take away my nerves, it didn’t work. It only made it worse.

            My head was spinning in endless circles, my eyes still unfocused, staring into the black abyss that was slowly becoming a part of me. Soon I fell into it…and it consumed me in its obscurity, hiding me from the truth, taking away the sting as I finally realized what it all meant…

            I shook my head, trying to clear it, and stood up.

            Too fast.

            I staggered over uncontrollably, running into the wall. I could have sworn that floors didn’t move, yet the floor was moving up toward my face with each passing second…

            I lie there on the floor of my bedroom; my body shook in convulsions that frightened me…disturbed me when I realized the source of them had come from inside me.

            I couldn’t believe it…What was there to believe anymore?

            My legs were still shaking profusely when I had finally managed to stand up, my eyes still hazy and my arms groping through the dark for something to hold on to.

            For several days I had the same dream, my eyes shooting open the moment the bullet flew from the gun. But the fatigue caused them to close, and I was forced to watch the commencement of the dream, watch as the Hunter ran away from the scene of the love triangle dead near the pond.

            I could not stop the dream from coming……It somehow found a way into my subconscious to torture me…

            I woke screaming, my eyes drenched in tears, as I wept for the deaths of these people I did not know. Or maybe I did know them…? My head throbbed every morning when the screaming started, and I was beginning to notice that my neck was bothering me…

            All of my friends continued to ask me what was wrong, Dayanna the most. She always questioned me, the look in her eyes the concern of a true friend. I’ve thanked her thousands of times for that, but she always blew it off, saying it was her job.

            The bullet flies from the rifle, soaring with alarming speed toward James shoulder. He screams, the bullet pulverizing his shoulder blade, shattering his entire arm and the rib cage into splinters.

            “No!” Selene cries; her arms flutter uselessly as she tries to help him.

            James’ eyes are clouded, covered in a layer of smoke, as he falls forward. The shining dagger, still in his hands, plunges into Selene’s shoulder…

            She yells toward the edges of the clearing, her words full of anger.

            “How could you?!” she shouts toward the place where the Hunter stands. Her eyes, glassy and red with blood, stare straight at the Hunter as she runs toward them.

            “No!” the Hunter screams desperately, shoving James’ body away from the girl. But her breathing is already slowing, her chest barely moving as she stares loathingly into the Hunter’s eyes.

            “James…” she breathes calmly, her hand stretching for him through the darkness.

            A low chuckle.

            “Selene,” he replies, his hand clasping hers. The Hunter watches this in fascination, and realizes her mistake. The two of them breathe their last breath together, as the Hunter runs out of the clearing in fear.

            “No! No! No!” My eyes flew open sporadically, my head throbbing with the strangest sensation. “Oh, God, no, no, no, no….” For some reason these words continued to pour from my mouth, but I was not the one saying them…

            It was almost as if I wasn’t…myself anymore…

            The throbbing was calming down, the haze slowly disappearing as reality (or whatever world I was living in) took hold of me. My legs were still shaking, my arms still groping, as I struggled to stand up.

            “No, no, no, no….” I kept muttering to myself. My fingers clenched and unclenched of their own free will, tightening on the strands of my hair that fell in my tear-streaked eyes.

            “Oh, God, please no….” I murmured, finally on my feet. My muscles did not belong to me anymore…They moved with commands I never gave to them, acting of their own accord as they led me to the door.

            Beside the door I stood, on the right side……and on the left. My hazel eyes stared back at me from a beautiful face. I gasped at my reflection in the mirror.

            This could not have been me…It was not possible. This girl was too beautiful, too wonderful…to be me. The hazel eyes were so bright, dark in color, yet bursting with life as they stared into nothingness. The hair fell down my shoulders in the same pattern as hers, in beautiful, subtle waves of golden brown.

            My eyes traveled down her porcelain face, memorizing every line, all the contours of her countenance. She stared back with a frightened expression, and her mouth was parted in what looked like awe and horror both at once. Her hands moved with mine, her mouth opening as mine did…her every motion copying mine…

            My eyes searched the face for some sort of explanation, but the face staring back was just as blank.

            I closed my mouth slowly, and swallowed…

            The answering response made no sense. It was a blood-curdling scream, a shriek of denial and defiance, resonating through my ears as I saw the bloody gash moving from my left to right ear across my throat.

            The girl screamed so loudly it pierced time and space itself, warping everything into a reality that made no sense whatsoever, into a strange place that made perfect sense…

            And beside me now was a beautiful boy, his eyes full of an emotion I could not understand. I had searched for this look in so many pairs of eyes, only to find it now: love.

            His arm wrapped itself around my waist—around the girl’s waist—as she thrashed and screamed…I looked at his face…

            My own screams were drowning me as my fingers traced the line over and over again…my eyes staring into James’ timeless face.