Geist
By Inno Tenshi

Chapter 02 – Illfated Love


She stands there, watching them. She always sees them. They are there.

Tanim and Daren didn’t care that the star could see them so easily; they hid on Earth many a time to speak to one another, during eclipses especially. But this girl, this star, this one little fragile girl could see them when no one else could … and they knew she saw their pain.

Tanim is the Sun, and Daren, his lover; is the Moon. They are both young males, eternally beautiful and delicate; graceful in all their movements… nevertheless they are cursed, unable to be together, day or night. Separate.

But they are Binary, and cannot live without each other … two pieces of a whole.
And so they hide on Earth. Cloaked by rain and darkness, they move in shadows … for it is always dark and raining with them around.

They brought the storm this time.


Silent, she watches from a distance as poisoned lips gently embrace porcelain skin, and the rain makes the kiss even more acidic.

Angela Francesca Annabel-Lee Montgomery-Walker was spirited as a child, now grown and left youth with the knowledge of suffering; though she’s possibly never really felt pain herself first-hand. She knows what being incomplete is. She thinks she’ll be alone all her life. She doesn’t expect any love. She sees it – it’s right in her plain sight, but she’ll never hold it herself.

A drop of rain drips unhurriedly down her forehead, and she lifts her fingers slowly to wipe it off. Looking back at the two lovers, she inhales deeply the scent of the rain … remembering the day she first saw them.


* * *


It was dark, stormy and clouded. A thin fog overswept the alleys and streets. The rain was just a little more than a drizzle, and the streetlamps flickered. The Moonlight was the brightest, and like a subtle knife, cut through the fog and shone like a spotlight on them.

She was taking her routine walk; 2am, and she still couldn’t sleep. Turning the corner on her way home, she stopped. These people weren’t here when she passed by the first time … so she listened, very quietly.

“Darling…” said a voice, not over eighteen, “I am here. You are safe. I will mend your broken heart.”

And then the sound of a heavy thud against cement: the gun dropping from his hands.

She watched as the boy lifted the girl in his arms – no wait, that was another boy. But he was so beautiful, he could have been a girl … a fragile, lost little china doll, even. His hair was long and pale, like his skin… and the other boy pulled the gun from his hands, letting it drop to the ground with a clank, and caressed the little one. They sat there for a long moment, and she watched.  

The boy with long snow-white hair’s porcelain doll face was cracked. Broken.

Suddenly, she broke into tears, not knowing why, and clasped a hand over her mouth so that she didn’t disturb them. Luckily a roll of thunder muffled her whimpers, but her tears blurred the image of the two young boys.

“Tanim …” came a whisper that could have been the wind.
“Yes, Daren my love?” came the reply from the boy holding the fragile doll.
“I want to … but I didn’t … but I want to …” he said, reaching mindlessly for the gun again.

Daren didn’t like this world. He didn’t like the suffering it caused him.
If he were dead, he could be with Tanim forever without worry, … in the sky … away from here…
He was never meant to be here. He wanted to be home.


She watched with silent apprehension of the situation they were in, and understood instantly their love; their curse.  

She came back every night to see them. To make sure Daren hadn’t died … but there where the nights when the Moon was hidden completely, “New Moon” on the calendar she noticed – and Tanim sat alone.

Those were the nights she dared move closer … sometimes, she spoke to him. Brushed away the dark locks of his hair; found him crying. Weeping bitter tears for his lover, the boy who hated everything; perhaps even Tanim himself. She reassured him they would be okay … and someday, maybe someday soon, Daren would prove to Tanim how much he loved him. And they would both be happy …


* * *


Silently, she walks up to them – afraid of Daren, but somewhat familiar with Tanim. She had never spoken to Daren previously. This is her first time approaching the two of them together; she never dared disturb them before.

A streetlamp fades in and out as she comes closer to them, sitting side by side on the bench in the middle of the little square, holding hands. Daren is leaning his head on Tanim’s shoulder, quiet and distant, his hollow eyes glued to the pavement. He could be a life size puppet, leaning there on Tanim, limp like that. The Moon’s limelight pays attention to her, giving a tingle to her face and arms, the milky light enveloping her every move.
Standing a few feet in front of them, she feels awkward.

“I…” she stutters, Tanim’s cool blue eyes already on her. Daren doesn’t move, but he hears her, eyes still on the damp pavement.

“I heard of a place called Sanctuary.” she says, her voice seeming loud in the silence.


Tanim tilts his head slightly, shifting his weight to wrap an arm around Daren, who doesn’t move. It takes him a moment, his blue eyes deep and distracted, but he looks back to her with a curious tone in his soft voice.

“What have you heard? From whom?” he asks.
“Well … there’s a place, a secret place. An island of sorts.” she replies, not knowing the exact location.
“Why ‘Sanctuary’?”
“It’s … a safe place, for people who … I- … I don’t really know, actually.” she says, only having heard rumours from children who roam the streets; daydreamers.
“Then it’s of no concern to us.” says Tanim, looking down to Daren’s porcelain face.

“But I thought … maybe you’d be happier there …” she says, anxious and feeling helpful, “I thought maybe you could go there and never have to worry about anything again; I hear it’s a great place!”
“Have you ever been there?”

It was Daren who asked. She shivers and looks at him, biting her lip and swallowing hard, taking a step back. His dark eyes are still on the ground, and his long white hair falls in front of his face. It doesn’t even look like he is breathing … like he ever spoke at all.

“N-no…” she whispers.
“Then why…” comes the voice, so supple and hushed, “why do you even care?”

Angela Walker looks down for a moment and realizes she is interfering with a relationship, trying to make things better when she doesn’t even know how. She just wants to see them happy – for once. She … she understands them. And now, her chance at giving them something: failed.
But she isn’t one to give up so easily.

“I could go there, and find out if you’d like it,” she says, looking up eagerly.
“Why? Why would you do that?” asks Tanim.
“I’ve watched you for a long time…” she whispers, “and I see you’re in pain. I just …”
“Want to help?” says Daren’s little voice.

She nods, standing inelegantly in front of the heavenly couple she’d grown to admire for their strength in the darkest of times. She liked to think of them as the Sun and Moon – warm, and cold. Hopeful … and saddened.
She looks at Daren’s little figure in the flickering lamplight and is suddenly reminded of Winter – a bitter frost, unhappy and frozen and quiet; but so beautiful.
Perhaps, she thought, Tanim’s eternal Summer could melt him someday.

Tanim looks at her, appraising her for the first time – head to toe and back again. She gulps vulnerably, embarrassed to be looked at by such marvellous eyes, as though he were a king and she, just a peasant.

“If you do this for us, what’s in it for you?” asks Tanim warily.
“Just seeing you two happy would be the greatest payment, really.” she replies almost instantly, not needing to think twice about it.

Tanim looks her over one last time, his eyes flickering over every detail of her to place it in his memory, then sighs. He puts a hand into his pocket and hands her a little bag of velvet cloth tied with twine, a strange symbol handpainted in silver filigree on the black material.

“If you find the Sandman, give him this from me please,” he says simply, “… you can open it. There’s nothing really important inside. Not to you, anyway.” ending his sentence with a whisper.
“I will.” she replies, nodding and bowing slightly, clutching the little pouch.

“I’ll find it for you, I’ll find Sanctuary. And if it’s anything like I’ve heard, I’ll come back for you and take you there. I promise,” says Angela Walker to the couple.
‘And then you’ll be happy … and I’ll have accomplished something in life.’ she thinks.


She meets Tanim’s somewhat ashen gaze with a determined look, and then glances at Daren, who is still leaning lifeless on Tanim’s shoulder, glazed black eyes on the road, snowy hair getting tugged at by the wind. Then she turns away and goes home, hides the velvet pouch under her pillow without peeking inside, and falls asleep.

She never heard Daren’s whisper to Tanim as she walked away.

“I could be happy with you.
But why would you want me?”



The next morning, she wakes up with sunlight pouring in through the thin curtains of her room, birdsong outside her window and a cat on the edge of her bed. Yawning, she rolls over onto her pillow and stares at the ceiling, letting her body wake up as well. The alarm next to her bed says Saturday, 9:36am.

Heaving a big sigh and gathering all her tired energy to lift the blankets and put her feet to the floor, Angela Walker decides to run away from home today.


She slips her hand under her pillow – to be sure.
To make sure she wasn’t just dreaming again. For she dreamed of them often … it would seem that Tanim and Daren were in everything she did, thought or said.
But the downy pouch is there, and its softness pleases her fingertips.

She gets dressed and goes downstairs, grabbing a bowl and milk, then rummaging through the cupboards for a box of cereal and a spoon. She sits down at the couch when she has what she wants and watches cartoons, and then checks the weather for the next few days.

Cloudy skies with sunny breaks for today, rain tomorrow and a thunderstorm within the next 72 hours.
Perfect.  

After breakfast, she puts her dishes on the counter and goes back to her room, grabbing a rucksack and stuffing it with essentials; clothes, a journal, a few pens, some stamps just in case. She then grabs a long raincoat and a small umbrella, putting on the coat and the umbrella in the bag. She then takes the pouch from under her pillow and puts it in her pocket, and goes to raid her piggybank. Only 45$ … so she goes into her parent’s room and finds her mother’s purse and father’s wallet, taking all the money. No credit cards – too easy to follow.

She then grabs a pen and a paper, going down into the kitchen, and sits at the table for a long time.
How is she supposed to explain this?
She’s going out to find a place that may or may not exist for two strangers? No, of course not.


“Dear Mom and Dad,

I’ve gone out for a while. I won’t be home for the next few days or so.
I need to find something, so don’t call the police. I’m not being
kidnapped or anything. I just need some time. Don’t worry about me;
I’ll be home before the month is over.

Love, Angela.”


That should be alright. And if for some reason they did call the police to look for her, she’d be long gone already.
Besides – everyone goes through that ‘phase’ where they need to explore and ‘find themselves’. They’d probably just figure that’s what was happening.
And maybe it was.

She steps outside, knowing full well her folks will be home in a few hours and find her note. It wasn’t sudden though, so they’d probably understand. She’d been broody for a few days, nodding off in the middle of something, or not paying attention while someone was talking to her, daydreaming… and her grades could be better at this point.
Not that she cared immensely, but she was lacking something for sure. She was always thinking about them anyway… them.

Ever since she first saw them … it was all about their love.
She always anticipated with excitement her walks in the early hours of the morning, heart fluttering with joy when she saw them, even if it was painful.


So Angela Francesca Annabel-Lee Montgomery-Walker runs. She runs far far away, through the winding streets of her neighbourhood and hitching a ride on the back of a bus and heading downtown.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing, or where she’s going, or how she’ll even get there.

She hasn’t figured out yet that Sanctuary is something that finds you – not the other way around. Like fey, it comes and goes as it pleases, and sometimes without warning; but those who stumble upon it slip in and out of Heaven. Rarely, someone can make themselves a Sanctuary, a safe place … but no one in the Waking World can seek it and find it. If it doesn’t want to be found, it will remain invisible. People don’t realize to gain it, they have to let go of it.
She will have to give up before ever being able to discover it.


“I woke the dawn … saw horses growing out the lawn, ohhh, ohhh… I glimpsed a bat with butterfly wings, oh, Marvellous Things. Ohhh, ohhh …” sings Angela under her breath, walking down the street, “and when I was a young girl, trying to find my way above the treetops, the treetops, the treetops, I did not care what they called me.”

Turning into an alley to use a short cut through the cityscape, the spies a group of people walking down the street and into a tall building with big broad letters across the top; ‘TYGER CORP.’

‘What strange clothes they have!’ she thinks.

Eyeing them like candy, the tilts her head and continues walking through the alley, her eyes glued to them in wonder. Four of them, three girls, and one boy, mostly dressed in black. To stereotype them would be calling them ‘goths’, but Angela had never been one to judge a book by its cover… she’d also always been intrigued by people with such a style … after all, she was the only one she knew with similar taste in fashion. They looked as though they’d come to life from one of her drawings in her journal – fantastic and magical, but in that mysterious and shadowy way.

As she comes to the end of the alley, she almost trips over the hunched up figure of an old homeless woman, who looks at her with sick eyes and a daring cackle in her voice.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-”
“Staring at the Lost, are ye?” says the old little woman, revealing a toothless grin as she speaks, the wrinkles in her skin stretching with every movement.
“I-I’m sorry?” replies Angela, unsure of what she said.
“The Lost, the Lost! Them!” says the woman, pointing a bony finger towards the four people in the dark strange clothes.
“Lost? They don’t seem … lost,”

Angela looks over again to the four people. They are laughing. They all look very happy. Not ‘lost’ at all, whatever that means.

“They’re called the Lost. They’re a group of people, most of ‘em kids like you really, who hide on that island, there, far on the horizon. I’ve heard some pretty strange things about those guys … ugly stories. They only come out to go to that building, and then they go back to their little paradise.” says the old woman, sneering and putting emphasis on the last word and spitting all the while, sounding very jealous.

“Oh, well…” starts Angela, but the woman cuts her off again.
“Damn them! Damn them! Damn them and their perfect little lives, entirely comfortable on their little secret place! Well I know. I know their secret, and one day … one day I’ll get there, …” says the old cracking voice of the bundle of wrinkled blankets, rocking back and forth and completely forgetting that Angela is standing there.

She looks at the old woman with wide eyes. What if … what if that was her? In some other form, searching for Sanctuary … so, is the isle with the Lost the place she is looking for? … And did she at some point, in another life, go mad with her search … ?

“Grandmother,” starts Angela remembering her manners, “the place you speak of, is it by any chance called-”
“SANCT.” screams the old shaking woman, her glazed eyes open and full of senile rage.

The younger girl cowers against the alley wall, not liking this lady at all. She then shoulders her rucksack higher and looks away from the wrinkled old angry face, and looks both ways before crossing the street.

"Craaazy lady." she mumbles under her breath.


She stands in front of the looming building, its ominous presence seeming to slowly fall over her as she looks up.
A placid voice from behind her startles her – then soothes the knot deep inside her which formed when she left home as though a blanket had been wrapped around her bones. A tingling feeling at the back of her neck tells her not to turn around, but the voice is so gentle, her mind wants to place an image to the young masculine tones.


“Just. Go. Inside.”


And she shakes while turning her head towards those aqualine almond shaped eyes, that long but slicked back dirty-blonde hair, the devious *smirk.* A boy – about an immortal seventeen – dressed in a fine suit and holding an umbrella in one hand, and a briefcase in the other, stands smartly poised by her side. It’s hard not to notice the goggles around his neck – the yellow tint clashes with the rest of him.

“P-pardon me?” she stutters, turning to face him fully.
“If you’re so interested, just go inside.” he repeats, then smiles and is on his way into the Tyger building.

Angela stands there blinking for a moment, then assumes she’s been invited in, and no one can really stop her if she’s invited, right?
But what was his name … it would be easier to make up an excuse for randomly showing up without a cause if she had a name she could give to the clerk, and then have a look around the building.
But hold on; she does have a cause to be there … she is looking for Sanctuary. Surely the Lost could give her directions … and they seem to have headed inside as well.

But just one more minute! What exactly is she randomly going to walk into a building for? She doesn’t even know what this company does. Then again – the advantage of knowing where the Lost hang out might come in handy. She could wait outside until they left and just follow them. Perhaps they could lead her to…


And so Angela crosses the street again, and heads into a small coffee shop for a bite to eat, a warm drink, and then takes out the little pouch Tanim gave her before she left on her quest. Keeping an eye on the window, she looks out to the Tyger building and watches the people who come and go, looking out for any of the four individuals she is waiting for.



Meanwhile, Tanim steps into the mouth of the dark alley, pausing beneath the weak, flickering streetlight. It casts a dreary yellow ring of brightness, raindrops glittering momentarily as they pass through on their way back into the darkness. Water drips down from the tips of the boy’s hair and trail down the line of his jaw. He shivers despite his long coat, his breath sending thin, ghostly white clouds into the cold night air. He wonders if that was the way his soul would pass from the world as well, a wisp of Nothing to be torn apart by the rain and the lightning and the dark.

Tanim closes his eyes, concentrating on the freezing water droplets that slide down over his eyelids and kiss his rosy cheeks. For a moment his stress-wracked, sleep-deprived mind shudders, warped by fever, and tries to convince him that the rain is tears, his tears that fall, that never ended, never stop, never--

“No!” the boy growls under his breath, forcing his stormy blue eyes open again. “No, none of that. Not now.” Tanim wills his numb body to live again, willing first his right and then his left foot to move and he steps out of the ring of comforting light and into the darkness beyond. Plunged into the uneven night, Tanim slowly makes his way to the dark form that lies upon the damp alley floor.

Daren lies with his back on the cement, his china-doll body soaked through to the bone. Rain runs in rivers down his porcelain skin and marble lips. Dark lashes brush against his smooth, fever cheeks; his breath is so shallow it seems impossible that he is only asleep. Carefully Tanim kneels beside the boy; still half trapped in that other dream, that other world, and reaches one hand down to gently brush the rainwater from his lover’s lips.

“Daren, wake up…” Tanim begs gently, running his fingers through the boy’s long, snowy hair. “You have to wake up…”
Daren’s eyelashes tremble, his angelic face twisting in the pain of memory for that single second before he opens his black eyes again. He does not want to come back to this world; he doesn’t like this world...

“T…Tan…” Daren pushes his limp body up on trembling arms, his eyes clouded and lost. Tanim leans forward to pull the boy close, and Daren sinks into his embrace.

“I was dreaming…” Daren murmurs, still consumed in a waking reverie. He smiles dimly, darkly, with lips pale and icy cold.

“I was dreaming, and you were there with me,” he lifts up one hand, shaking at the exertion, to trace the line of Tanim’s jaw, “and we were in Paradise…”
His fingers brush over his lover’s skin.

“It was the most wonderful thing in the world... But it was only a dream."



A waiter brings a frothy mocha over to the table, where Angela pulls gently on the twine that surrounds the dark velvet pouch. She looks around, making sure no one watches as she opens the little bag; and it contains –

But the door open to the little shop, and a girl in dark clothes walks in, making Angela look up, distracted by the strange attire.

She smiles and nods to the barkeep, and he asks her if she’d like the usual. Angela looks at her up and down, watching as the barkeeper makes her a big smoothie covered in Skittles. The girl – one of the Lost she’d seen previously – has a collar around her neck, short spiky hair, combat boots and stripped stockings covered by a short black skirt, along with a black top that looks like a corset. A few spiked bracelets adorn her wrists and silver rings give her hands a gilded look – but the greatest part of her is her heartshaped face and bright green eyes. Her little earrings with ‘fey magic’ written on them clink when she turns her head to look outside for a second, leaning on the counter with her arms.

Angela blinks with wonder. Just as quickly as she forgot what she was doing when the girl walked in, she ties up the pouch and stuffs it back into her rucksack and drinks her mocha quickly, gulping the chocolaty-coffee and paying for it. As she does this, the other girl grabs her drink and walks back outside to share with another one of the girls Angela had seen earlier.

Just as she is about to walk out of the café, the waiter stops her and hands her a paper.

“You dropped this, I think, miss,” he says kindly, handing the little white folded piece to Angela.
“Uh, thanks,” she replies, hurrying out and looking to the Tyger building.

She crosses the street, keeping an eye on the two other girls. The one with the skirt hands the Skittle smoothie to the girl with long raven hair, and she takes a big bite before handing it back. She then slips a hand into her trench coat pocket and holds something while continuing to talk to the other girl. They laugh.

Coming up to great revolving doors, the girls pass through, still chatting. Angela is close behind, still holding the paper in her hands, not having time to put it away yet.


Once in the building, she stares in awe.


Great white walls, a tall ceiling, the TYGER logo painted in bright red on the floor tiles and stairs everywhere, bridges, waterworks, pipes and oh, so many people – but suddenly she blinks and the vision is gone; she is standing alone in an antechamber that could look like a simple office.

A secretary, wearing a clean-cut navy-coloured suit and clashing with the sterile-white-and-chrome surroundings of the room, blonde hair tied back into a bun and a pair of thin glasses, waits behind a desk in front of her. There is only one large chrome door beside the desk, looking around her; Angela doesn’t see the revolving doors anywhere at all.

Slightly frightened now, she approaches the desk and the Tyger employee looks up haphazardly, as though she were expecting her and she was late.


“I’m sorry miss, but I think I’m lost – can you tell me where this is?” asks Angela warily.
“Password?” asks the Tyger staff member.
“Uh, I don’t think I have one …” replies Angela, shaking.


The woman looks at her hands, and points to the paper.


“What’s that?” she asks monotonously. Angela looks down.
“Oh!” she exclaims, remembering the waiter who gave it to her.

But … she didn’t have any loose papers in her rucksack. Only her journal, in which she recorded her thoughts and memories of Tanim and Daren…

Angela slowly unfolds the paper, a small little square sheet no larger than the palm of her hand. It reads-


“(.srats fo lluf ma I)”


She looks at it, confused, turning it over and under to see what it means. But of course, it means everything.
It takes her a few seconds to read it; backwards.

“What does it say?” asks the secretary, looking at her expectantly.
“Uh… ‘I am full of stars.’ … I think.” replies the girl, a confused look still plastered on her face, stressing the last word as she turns the paper over again.

“Ah.” says the secretary, pulling up the phone and dialling a number. She pushes a button behind the desk, and a sound beside her makes Angela turn.

The door to her left wheezes and the walls on either side of it grind rather precariously, gears twisting and pulling the large heavy metal gates open. The thick pieces of metal hide between the walls, like an elevator entrance. Angela watches carefully, noticing the biohazard symbol on the side of the wall. She then looks back at the secretary, who nods over to the door, then looks down again to her work, as though ushering her through the entryway.

“W-wait, was that the password?” asks Angela nervously.

The woman looks up and smiles, then nods, and goes back to talking to someone on the phone.
Angela Walker sighs and steps up to the metal door, looking in.

“He’s expecting you. Room 777,” says the Tyger employee, hanging up.


She opens her mouth but doesn’t have time to reply, because the elevator doors wheeze shut and close, locking Angela within and hiding the room she was just in on the other side. A long moment passes and the gravity shifts, and whether she is going up or down she can’t tell, because there isn’t a dial anywhere, no buttons to change floors, no emergency phone. Only bright lights on the ceiling and a mirror on the sides, a chrome metal flooring and a bar to hold onto. At lease it is spacious, or else she’d get nauseous.

Rocking back and forth on her heels and toes, she looks down at her feet and pink-and-black stripped stockings, trying to get her mind of everything that is so strange.
Who is she going to meet? One of the Lost? Room 777… what kind of number for a room is that? And how many other rooms are there in this building? Come to think of it … what kind of maze would a building like this have in its basement … All the questions make her head spin, when suddenly the elevator stops, and the doors wheeze open again.


Ahead, a long hallway stretches out like a red carpet with windows to the right side and a pair of large oak doors facing the glass. Sunlight pours through, making the gold filigree on the doors glint and sparkle in her eyes. She walks over, confused, and looks out the windows. A few yards below her is the coffee shop where she sat before following one of the Lost girls into the building. But, now where is she? What floor? Turning around to face the big set of doors, she wonders what in the world she’s getting herself into.

She bites her lip before knocking softly, clutching the rucksack tightly in her other hand.  


“Come in,” says the serene voice. The boy from outside, with the umbrella.


Angela’s heartbeat quickens as her fingertips clasp the doorknob and twists it slightly, shifting her weight to push against the heavy oak door.

Blinking as she comes into the big room, she notices first that the windows are at the back of the area – and yet she just came from a hallway with windows; behind her.
It is as though she has crossed the whole width of the building – going from the front, to the back, without going through the middle. She swallows hard to keep down her heart, which is racing so fast she is afraid it will escape her chest.

He is standing, hands behind his back, and facing away from her. He looks not below – but at the horizon.


“Ah, the interested girl. I’ve been waiting for you,” he says quietly, gently, “what’s your name?”
“Uhm, …” Angela doesn’t reply, thinking of a fake name she could use in stead. After all, he is a stranger, and he could call the police any time if she slipped up.

“My name is Tivius Maxis.” he says, turning on his heels and walking towards the desk, also made of oak, that faces two chairs and sits behind it, his back to the windows.

Facing her again, he motions that she sits in the chair and make herself comfortable.


“I don’t bite.” says the boy, sensing her fear, “…why are you here?”


He tilts his head slightly, watching as Angela calms herself, setting her rucksack on the floor by her feet and sitting in the chair stiffly. It is comfortable – but she is nervous.

She takes a deep breath, thinking at lightspeed, and looks at him directly in the eyes.

“I don’t know you. You don’t know me. But I have a big favour to ask you.” says Angela.


The boy takes a moment to square his eyes at her and leans back in his chair, putting his elbow on the armrest and touching his cheek lightly, waiting.

Angela fiddles with her skirt a bit and bites her lip, trying to think of a way to explain.


“I-… you- … I ran away from home. Please don’t call the police. I have something to do and I promised only to come back when it’s finished. I’m looking for a place, a secret place, a paradise. I know the Lost come here, and I know they know where it leads; the place I’m looking for that is.”

At the mention of his familiars, the boy raises his eyebrows, and Angela gains a bit of confidence. ‘I’m on the right track!’ she hopes happily, her heart fluttering.


“So… you’re looking for Sanctuary.” he says almost in a whisper, leaning forward again and shifting his weight in the chair so that he sits on the edge of his seat, hands folded on the desk, and looking at her intently with those intimidating bright eyes.

She nods. He looks down, unmoving save for the rise and fall of his breath, unblinking. Angela fidgets with her skirt again, watching the gold specks in his eyes flicker in the sunlight. Suddenly she thinks of Daren – the paleness of his skin, the shallow breathing … but, this Tivius-person is different. Whereas Daren wants to die, he is happy to be here.
He is … alive.


He looks up again – then looks  *t h r o u g h*  her. Then, he sighs, sitting back again in his chair.

“I can’t give away the location to that place. For all I know, you could be one of his minions, and I can’t just give the island on a silver platter to him. If you wan-”
“Pardon me? Who?” asks Angela, confused.


He shakes his head as though to say ‘never mind’.


“Hook. But no… you wouldn’t be allowed in here if you were, anyway. However, … if you really want to find Sanctuary, you’ll have to find it yourself.” he says, standing up as though to leave.

“But, but sir I-”
“I’m sorry; I really wish I could help. But there are some things, I just … can’t do.” says Tivius sadly.   

“But please, you have to help me! It’s a matter or life or death! Daren will die if you don’t, and Tanim will die with him of a broken heart! This is for Love!” pleads Angela, looking to him with beseeching eyes.

He gazes at her sorrowfully, and then looks out the window.


“…What do you know of Love, little girl?” whispers Tivius.
“I know it will die if I don’t find Sanctuary.” she replies just as quietly.


He nods. Putting his hands in his pockets, he walks back over to the window and looks to the horizon again. An awkward silence settles – but Angela keeps her calm, hoping that this boy will be kind. She doesn’t know him at all, and they’ve just met – but she hopes, oh she hopes with all her might that he will help her.

She twitches slightly as he sighs again, breaking the odd silence.

“As I said. If you want to find it – you’ll have to do it on your own terms. I can’t jeopardize the Lost’s secrets. If you want to join them, you’ll have to have them accept you. I can’t say much more than that.”
“But you know them! You could introduce us!” says Angela, her hopes wavering slightly.

“Aye … I know the Lost. Personally, in fact.” says Tivius, standing with his hands behind his back and head tilted to the side, watching her determination with curiosity.


Angela watches back, noting every movement he makes in her memory and piecing together a possible explanation for why he can’t – or won’t – let her at least talk to one of the Lost. It’s not like he can’t pick up the phone on his desk and call them in, is it?


“You’re their leader,” she exclaims in awe, her eyes never leaving his face. “… ohhh.”


Tivius nods quietly, his lips curling into a soft smile, letting the gold speckles in his bright blue eyes flicker.


“And so … you’re protecting them from something. SomeONE. That Hook person… and you think I might be one of his … minion-like persons, and I might just want to see the island because I might wanna destroy it, … or something. Right?” says Angela, sitting up in the chair.
“Yes.” replies the young man, sitting again behind his desk. “… however, if you can prove your intentions are good, and gain the acceptance of the Lost, then all the better for you. We’ll meet again, then, if you do.”
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to the Lost. I just want help for Daren and Tanim. They’ve been through so much … I just want them to be happy. This isn’t for me… it’s for them. You… Can’t you give me someone to talk to?” she asks, still eager to meet any one of the four she glimpsed outside.
“Anyone you had in mind?” says Tivius, raising an eyebrow at her request.

“Uhm… I don’t have any names, but there were four people outside a few hours ago. A boy and three girls, all dressed in black. They walked into this building, and I waited for them to come back out later … then two of the girls came into the café I was at, and got a Skittle smoothie.” says Angela, careful on what exactly she reveals to the boy.

After all, she doesn’t want him thinking she is a stalker – that would just make him think she was with that Hook-person. Which of course, she is not, and she knows that. But he doesn’t – and it’s obvious he’s suspicious and wary of her.


“Skittles?” laughs Tivius, “oh I know exactly who that was; Muffy,”
“Muffy.” she repeats, placing it in her memory.
“And the others … black, you say? Hm, most of the Lost wear black, …”
“Oh, well the other girl with Muffy was wearing a trenchcoat, and had long raven hair,” says Angela.
“Ah. That would be either Inno or Luus. Therefore the boy you saw must have been Kishe. Those four are practically inseparable,” says Tivius, flashing a grin. “a mischievous lot, they are.”

“Muffy, Inno, Luus and Kishe... alright, I’ll look for them. Thank you, Tivius.” says Angela, standing and holding out her hand for a shake.

Tivius stands as she does, shakes her hand and smiles again.

“I’ll see you again soon, miss,”
“Elyssa,” says Angela, having found a suitable name that she could use in the meantime.
“Elyssa. Pretty name. Well Elyssa, I’m sure we’ll have more time to get to know each other better someday, but right now I have a client to tend to. Your coming here wasn’t planned, but I’m sure she’s getting a bit impatient. Nice to meet you,” says Tivius, walking her to the exit kindly.


Pulling the large oak door open, Tivius reveals a wonderfully beautiful woman garbed in coral jewellery and an aquamarine dress that glides to the floor, which glints silver as it moves in a water that isn’t there.
The liquid effect of the dress, which, with a double-take Angela realizes is fishscales; ripples from her hips to the floor, dissipating into a strange seaspray that doesn’t leave the carpet wet. Her long hair is pulled back away from her porcelain face, tied up with a starfish. Kohl circles her gorgeous dark eyes – which are the color of the bottom of the ocean. Even her alabaster skin has a mysterious tint of blue, and she smells faintly of salt.


Angela gazes at the beautiful lady as Tivius leads her into his office, overhearing a ‘Hello VirSanctus.’ before the oak doors close shut again. She walks back to the elevator when she remembers she never asked Tivius how she got the password to this place anyway, and she curses loudly in the chrome shaft as the gravity shifts again.    


When the elevator stops and the chrome doors wheeze open again, she finds herself at the entrance of the building, the revolving doors ahead. But the rest of the area is dark and empty, as though she were the only person here.

She lowers her eyes and walks out of the Tyger building, clutching her rucksack in one hand before slinging it over her shoulder and walking back to the café to speak to the waiter.


A bell chimes as she walks in and looks around, heading to the bar.

“Excuse me sir, I was here just awhile ago and ordered a mocha. Do you know who the waiter was that served me, please?” asks Angela politely.
“Dissatisfied?” replies the rough voice of the barkeeper, wiping a glass dry.
“No, it was very good thank you, but I have a question for him.”

The man grunts before calling into the kitchen. The waiter that served her and handed her the small piece of paper comes out, obviously unamused by the disturbance of his break.

“Yes miss?” he says when he sees Angela.
“Oh, I just wanted to ask if you knew how this paper found its way onto my table. It’s not mine, I don’t have any loose pieces paper in my bag, and I’ve never seen it before,” she says, keeping a calm voice though she is slightly frightened by the events that just occurred in the Tyger building thanks to this small sheet.

“I think I saw Muffet slip it onto the table on her way out,” says the barkeeper, addressing the waiter more than Angela and naming Muffy as though she were a regular customer.

“Muffet?” repeats Angela.

“Yeah yeah that punk Technachick that comes here with Inno, you know, the one the Lost nickname ‘Tink’. Muffy Stopholes, a.k.a Little Miss Muffet ‘coz of the similar names.” says the barkeeper, drying another glass.

The waiter shrugs.

“I thought it was yours, I’m sorry miss.”
“That’s alright, thanks anyway. Do you know where she might have gone? I should give this back to her,” asks Angela.


The waiter sighs and scratches his head, looking at the paper in her hands. The barkeeper has left the conversation and is occupied with doing the rest of his dishes a few feet away.

“I don’t know miss. It’s rumoured that she and some of the Lost go and play at the park before leaving to their Sanctuary there around dusk, but that’s only a rumour. People in this town are wary of them you know. They’re … different. You know how it is in the world – if you’re different, you’re not accepted. It might be best you stay away from them, maybe.” replies the waiter a bit solemnly and taking a step back, hinting that he doesn’t exactly want to be here.

Angela nods.

“Thank you sir. Which park was that?”
“The Cape Disappointment State Park. Come to think of it, they fancy the North Head Lighthouse, more than anything.” says the waiter.



Angela’s heart LEAPS – the lighthouse is on Long Beach. Her favourite place in the entire world.



“Thank you sir! Thank you!” she says, jetting out of the café and running to the street, waving down a taxi.



~ :: * :: ~



Sitting in the backseat of the taxi, the radio just loud enough to block out the traffic outside as the cars whiz by, Angela watches the clouds and thinks of Daren and Tanim. She writes in her journal, eloquently explaining the events she witnessed in the Tyger building, not leaving out the vision of the grand area where all the people in white suits were with all the stair cases and wires and experiments. The sterile hospital-like smell, the high ceiling, and the sudden blink-of-an-eye shift in reality where she found herself in a room without knowing how she got there, since there was no door behind her. She explains Tivius and how his eyes glowed a certain color, but she did not have a name for it, since it was so oceanic but airy at the same time.

“This … is a story, about …Love.

There was a boy. A very strange, enchanted boy.
They say he wandered very far, … very far … over land, and sea.
A little shy, and sad of eye … but very wise, was he.
And then one day, one magic day he passed my way;
and while we spoke of many things, fools and kings, this he said to me.
The greatest thing you’ll ever learn … is just to Love, and be Loved in return.”

There couldn’t be a better description of him, than the song playing on the radio. Nature Boy – from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. She recognizes it immediately, and asks the driver to turn up the volume.


Sighing, she brings her knees up to her chest and looks at the blurred images passing by out the window. She can’t let herself fall asleep just yet, half in fear of being robbed by the shady taxi driver and half in excited anticipation of finding herself in her Paradise.


By the time the horizon becomes a blue and orange hue, she knows she has arrived at her destination. The driver lets her off where Robert Grey Drive and North Head Lighthouse Road intersect, and she walks out onto the path, her shoes scraping the cement beneath her feet. She inhales deeply, closing her eyes – I’m here.

Shouldering her rucksack and smiling to herself, she walks across a field of tall grass and looks over to her right, to the Pacific Ocean.


And there it is: the lighthouse.

A few minutes’ walk up the gravel path and by sunset she’ll be there.



At the exact moment that Angela steps out of the taxi and looks at the lighthouse, Tanim walks confidently across the roof of a tall building in a city far from where she is.
Daren is at the edge, looking down. Raindrops ring off the metal bars that the boy stands on, and as Tanim steps closer towards him, he clenches his fists.

“Daren, please come here.” whispers Tanim, outstretching a hand to touch Daren’s sleeve.

Daren’s long snow white hair dances in the wind that is picking up, and a flash of lightning just ahead illuminates his slim silhouette to Tanim, who stands behind him. Daren doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t react. He just stands on the railing, looking below with a strong longing to hit the cement hard and he can’t explain why.

“Daren, please get down from there.” Tanim says a bit louder, to make sure he heard him this time.

He takes a step closer and grabs Daren’s wrist tightly, but not to hurt him. The paler boy falls backwards, into Tanim’s welcoming and expecting arms, eyes glazed over once more and looking through him towards the sky.

Tanim sighs.


“T-Tan …” comes the frail voice in his arms. He looks down to the black holes that are Daren’s eyes.

“I want … I wanted to … hit the-”
“Shh. I know.” Tanim says while beginning to walk towards the stairs, still holding the fragile doll-like Daren in his arms, wrapping him in his own coat.


“It was such a strong feeling.”



~ :: * :: ~



Angela walks up to the North Head Lighthouse with a sense of guilty pride. She doesn’t know how she accomplished to gain the feeling, but here it is, in her chest. And she stands askance, looking at the grandness of it, standing on her mound of dirt at the edge of a small slope that leads downhill to the lighthouse itself, she feels slightly like Lewis and Clark did the first time they looked at the Pacific Ocean.

But it wasn’t the first time she’d seen this place, of course, and she knows the group of people sitting on the lighthouse roof can certainly see her.

She squints her eyes to look at them better, but all she can tell as of yet is that they are all wearing black clothing and silver jewellery, because the reflections of it flash into her eyes no thanks to the sun that is drowning itself in the sea, just out of reach. The bright white flickers eventually fade as one by one they slip down and back into the tower, closing up the glass again and run down the spiral stairs encased in the white sturdy walls of North Head.

She decides it’s a wonderful chance to start walking up to the lighthouse, to try and greet them.


The door to the entrance bursts open, and a girl, most likely the leader of the pact, jets out and runs off towards the chainlink fence that surrounds the lighthouse area. The fence was put there so people didn’t fall off the edge – Angela can’t help but laugh. ‘It must have been put there for people like her,’ she thinks, as she watches the girl climb the fence and stand atop it, hands on her hips, in a Peter Pan stance. Meanwhile another girl runs out behind the first one and is trying to tell her to

“Come down from there, Inno!”
but it would seem that Inno has decided to ignore

“Luus, get back here!”
and Muffy runs out behind the second girl. Angela recognizes the combat boots and the stripped stockings. A boy is the last of them to come out and stand haphazardly by the door of the lighthouse. He keeps his hands in his pockets and watches as Muffy and Luus try to get Inno down from the fence, with little avail because Inno has started to run across the metal wire as skilfully as a ballerina in a ninja outfit.

“Kishe, help us!” yells Muffy, turning to him.
“Oh like I’ll be able to coax her down from there!” replies the boy with a hint of humour.


Inno starts flapping her arms as though she were about to take off and fly across the ocean at any moment – and Angela half expects her to.

Luus finally grabs a hold of Inno’s boot and the other girl topples over, falling into Luus and Muffy’s arms, and they all fumble onto the cement in a pile of black trenchcoats and big boots.

Angela bursts out laughing, and they all turn to look at her. She puts a hand over her mouth and suppresses her giggles.


Inno is the first to get to her feet, and then helps Muffy to stand. Luus is by her side in an instant, and Kishe stays by the door, but is ready to bounce at any moment should Angela move too quickly. Their eyes close in on her. Angela’s heart suddenly begins to race. These people are quick. Intimidating, but in a somehow unthreatening way.

She looks to the girl in the middle, Inno. Her eyes flicker, and Angela suddenly sees a bright flash – Inno’s figure turns into that of Tivius’ image, and back to Inno again.

Those eyes.


“That colour…” whispers Angela.



Luus murmurs something under her breath.


“FLASH FREEZE.”



* * *



Fragments of dreams.


The first. Looking out through ocean storm eyes. Before me, the broken boy. My Moon. His gaze is lonely; his soul is lost. I reach out my hand to him. He presses the gun to his temple, and I beg him to stay. He has no reason to, though.

He pulls back the trigger.

I catch him in my arms as he falls. He’s already dead.

~

The second. Looking out through death black eyes. Below me, the fallen angel. My Sun. Blood pools beneath his body. His soft white wings are snapped and torn. His gaze is empty; traces of agony still linger. I kneel at his side, reach out to brush the silky black hair from his eyes.

I call out his name gently, pleading.

He doesn't reply. He's already dead.

~

The last. Looking out through my own Autumn eyes. Above me, the tragic lovers. My Everything. I lay upon cold marble, a fitting final resting place. I imagine I must look like Snow White, trapped in her coffin of glass. This frightens me. I try to move, and can’t. I try to speak, and can’t.

I meet Their eyes.

And then I know. I’m already dead.



* * *



Angela finds herself waking up, slowly … painfully, … is that burning? Yes, her eyes feel as though they are burning. A stinging feeling tells her there was a bright flash, and a massive headache is coming in on her forehead.

She opens her eyes, but closes them again instantly, because all she can see is white. After a few moments, she forces herself to keep her eyes open, blinking away the light. Silhouettes begin to form, small shadows that begin to grow … had she gone blind for a moment?

No.

That tall girl, Luus … she moved her lips and suddenly time stopped. A vivid burst engulfed her, and then she couldn’t move … she was frozen.

Angela blinks again, and notices that her retina is angry, giving her after-images of her surroundings in a negative color. She winces – or, she tries to wince.
She can’t move.

Her limbs aren’t working! Panic begins to rise in her chest, and she frantically attempts to move anything. Even her hair is stuck in place, though the breeze should be moving it at the moment.

She blinks again, twice to be sure – and looks at the group leader, who is obviously the girl Inno.


Remembering earlier today as she followed the two girls that shared a Skittle smoothie, the long and elegant black trenchcoat of Inno Tenshi comes to mind.

The girl in black is on her cell phone, and Muffy stands to her right, listening to the conversation. Luus stands a bit further away, and Kishe has decided to sit down on the pavement with his head on the door to the lighthouse, eyes shut.

Slowly, as Angela’s hearing returns and she begins to thaw …


“Yeah. Yes, we’ve seen her before. Muffy did at least, in the shop. Uh-hunh, … interested, is she? Hokay.” says Inno.

‘Oh god she’s talking to Tivius.’ thinks Angela. ‘At least this confirms that they all know each other…’


“…Why’s she looking for that?” asks Inno, frowning and eyeing Angela, who would have blushed and looked down had she any control. Muffy seems agitated and takes the phone.

Muffy walks away with Inno’s cell phone and leaves Inno staring at Angela’s statue-like figure with a quizzical expression. As the other girl walks closer to her and leans in, Angela looks down half in fear and half in shame. What has she gotten herself into? Sanctuary is a sacred place. It’s for people to heal …


“What do you want from us?” whispers Inno.  

It’s not for me.

“Why did you seek us out?”

Because you’re the only ones who can help Them.

“Who do you think you are?”

…what?


It is as though Inno can hear her thoughts. Read her mind.
Inside herself, Angela quivers.


“Luus,” says Inno, not taking her eyes off Angela and calling the tall girl over, “you can release her.”

Luus doesn’t move, but a sense of being tied up comes away to Angela. Inno walks a full circle around her, taking everything in, as Angela slowly feels herself regaining control over her limbs. That sandy feeling from when her foot fell asleep that time comes throughout her entire body, and it itches and hurts to move. She winces, and this time she could wince.

When Inno stands in front of Angela once more, she waits a few moments to make sure the other girl could actually move correctly. The girl takes a deep breath and shakes her hands and legs to make the sand feeling go away, and then stands up straight to look back at Inno.


“What’s your name?” she asks Angela.
“Uhm, Elyssa, ma’am.” she replies, to stick with the story she told Tivius.
“Pretty name. And call me Inno, please. I’m not old enough to be a ma’am,” Inno says, glancing to Muffy and grinning wide.

Angela nods and smiles lightly, still very intimidated. She tries not to stare at how bright Inno’s eyes are compared to her black clothes.

“Sorry for freezing you and all. Automatic defence. We didn’t recognize you, so we thought you were one of them.” says Inno.
“Oh. You mean … uhm, Hook, or whatever his name was?” replies Angela, trying to remember the conversation she had with Tivius. Her mind was still thawing. Inno nods, so she assumes it was the right name.

“So … now that you can answer correctly, mind telling us why you’re here? … we don’t bite. Well, not hard.” says Inno, bringing laughter from the others as she smirks at Angela’s worried look.


“Well …”


Angela shakes and twiddles her fingers, looking half at Inno and half to the ocean while she talks, trying not to make too much eye contact in fear that Inno might figure out something like her real name by reading her mind. She recites the tale she told Tivius, telling Inno and the other three about her adventure getting here just to meet them and to find Sanctuary for Tanim and Daren.

Inno bites her lip and watches Angela as she speaks about them with a sadness. A compassion.
When the girl finishes her story, Inno looks very shaken. As though something inside of her woke up but she couldn’t possibly tell anyone about it. And she watches Angela with a longing to say something, anything at all to comfort her… but she can’t. She holds back. She’s not allowed to, not yet.
She has to make sure.

At last, Inno nods to Angela. It is a slow, understanding nod. As though every word that poured from the girl’s lips was completely implicit.


“I’m sorry.” whispers the lady in black. “I’d like to do something for them. But I can’t.”

Angela’s jaw drops and she stares at Inno.
“Why?!”

Inno has already turned around and is making her way towards the entrance of the lighthouse.

“But, but don’t you understand, I have to find Sanctuary for them! I have to, or they’ll DIE!” Angela screams.



Inno turns to her as Kishe opens the doors, as Luus and Muffy slip in behind her.


“I’m sorry Elyssa. But our place is for people who are not like you. It is for people who need healing. Who need kindred spirits like them, who understand and comfort them. You are fine. As much as I’d like to help – you’re not allowed to enter here. If these boys of yours really did want to come, they would have done so long ago.”

“But they couldn’t have, they didn’t even know about it until -I- told them it exists!” Angela implores as Kishe looks to Inno before entering the lighthouse.

“Ah. But, my dear Elyssa, … does it?” asks Inno, before turning her back on Angela and walking into the tower. The door eases shut behind her.

Angela screams “NO! WAIT!” as she runs towards the doors, trying to get Inno to come back. Her fist slams the frame as she kicks the doors, which fly. wide. open.


But there is nothing.


Angela Walker stands there, eyes wide with shock, chest heaving. No sounds of footsteps anywhere, no people. The lighthouse in deserted. She breathes heavily, trying to take it all in.
Who were they, truly? And where had they gone now?
It wasn’t possible to fade into thin air. Couldn’t be.


She takes a few steps back, stumbling blindly on the pavement and backing up until she stands where she was once frozen. Had she been? She looks around. Perhaps it was all just a daydream. How had she gotten here again? Why had she come? It all seemed so meaningless now … her trip here had brought her nothing. There was absolutely blank to find.
Maybe it didn’t exist after all.

Just a rumour made up by the towns people. THAT at least was possible … but what had kept her going? The Lovers did, of course. She has to go on for them, at the very least.



She looks to the ocean, to the horizon. The sound of the waves suddenly threw itself as her feet, and she jumps. She hadn’t heard it before; she was too focused on the Lost. Turning back to the lighthouse, she runs back to the door, through the entrance, and runs all the way up the spiral staircase. Perhaps she had mistaken the silence.
Maybe they were there after all, waiting. A test.

But when she reaches the spinning glass torch, … there is still emptiness.


Angela’s hands shake as she grasps the railing. She falls to her knees – her legs aren’t keeping her up anymore. A drop falls from her face and hits the cold floor, creating an echo as the sound carries itself through the room.

Angela lifts her head and looks out the window, to the harsh waters over the edge of the cliff.

She thinks of her promise to Tanim and Daren.

It begins to rain.


‘I can’t go back.’ she repeats to herself in her head, over and over like a broken record.

“I can’t go back now, I promised I’d only come back to them if I found it …” she says aloud to make it official. To make it known to the planet, if it was listening. To make it known to the light behind her. To make it known.



Angela walks as one condemned back down the spiral stairs and out to the chainlink fence. Her fingers clasp the metal as bars in a prison, and she looks longingly to the ocean.

Almost like the longing that Daren felt over the edge of the apartment building.



The ocean was the only one who ever understood her. She’d come and go, visiting this place as often as possible, coming to Long Beach with her parents and drinking mocha lattes overflowing with whipped cream but always, always she’d come to the ocean. And she’d find a place, alone, straying from her family’s side to walk along the eroded rocks on the shore – oh she knew those rocks so well. She knew them well enough to know how they felt in the water. She sometimes took a few out of the way of the waves and placed them gently in the sand, so they could catch some Sun. They liked the Sun, those rocks. And she would lick her fingers after, enjoying the seasalt on her tongue.

She can taste that salt in the air, even now, holding that fence and watching the Sun drown. A single star shoots by, and she glances at it before turning her eyes back to the fiery light.

She spoke to the wind. She spoke to the water. The water knew her, it welcomed her. Unlike at home, with her parents, the water wanted her. It didn’t push her away. She didn’t have to get out of the house at 2a.m. when she was with the ocean. The ocean loved her. It never hurt her.


Angela blinks and the memories are gone.


And once again, she is alone. She was always alone – it didn’t bother her much anymore. But the loneliness did. It sinks into her now, as she turns around with a sad hope that perhaps Inno was sitting up on the lighthouse roof again, waiting for her to notice … but she is not.

Angela sighs, and lets the wind wisp her hair as she thinks of her life so far. Her parents could be better parents. Her friends … what friends? She had no one who believed or understood her obsession with Tanim and Daren. The Lovers … the terribly illfated Lovers. The ones she craved to protect, to help, to see happy. If they weren’t happy … neither was she. She was their star, their light, their hope. And now she’d failed miserably at finding a place for them out of the rain.

What good at anything was she? Her life is meaningless now. She can’t bear to go on, knowing that there may be a Sanctuary for them – and they can’t have it because of her. She can’t go back to them with bad news.


Angela climbs the fence.




You shouldn’t do this. says something inside her.
Doesn’t matter now, replies another piece of her, in her head.

“I’m awake but still I’m dreaming … and never waking up.” says her outer voice, her body’s voice.

All the pieces of herself finally agree that there is nothing left here for Angela. It would be best to start over, somewhere else, somewhere new. And maybe the chance to do things right will come.


“Forgive me, my Sun … my Moon … we are all just illfated to end this way.” she whispers to the wind, asking it to dutifully carry her message to the alley where the Lovers are sitti