SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

1. How's that for a squee???
2. We officially have ten followers, sports-fans. Ten, count 'em, Ten.
3. I'm so happy, I could die! (Not really XD)
4. This is another Sunday Seventeen.
5. We just love alliterations...maybe one day I can do something on time again.
6. Like this week.
7. So...I was going to be able to go to church on my birthday...but now I have a mandatory soccer practice. Oh, well.
8. That is, unless it snows.
9. I kinda hope it does (because I haven't been to school on my birthday in three, possibly four, years. Crazy, huh?)
10. Cat's brother is officially a follower of our blog. He's been reading, but now he is a follower.
11. Kinda sounds like a cult or something XD
12. You know something? I've been reading past Friday Fifteen's (and Tuesday Twenty's, Sunday Seventeen's, and Saturday Sixteen's) and I guess that they're a little hard to follow...I'm kinda ADD throughout my bullet points
13. Speaking of ADD, (Melissa) since I still have not completely finished the story from last week (or was it the week before?) and Cat keeps referring to 'Liberated' as a 'debacle,' I decided to post a story that I wrote...a year or so ago, without (much) editing.
14. It's a little creepy, (but not morbid like '044') I don't really know what I was thinking when I wrote it
15. I take that back. I was trying to write something slightly based off the seldom mentioned 'Hunter' in Maggie Stiefvater's Lament...but it kind of took off on it's own...kind of...
16. It's not that good, and I am actually worried about posting it...
17. I will finish the other story soon, and finish my book reviews. (Considering I kind of chewed up and spit out The Hollow on the last one...)
~P. Megz OUT!!!

It's Time for a Squeeeeee.....

That's right.... We now have TEN followers.  Count them.  


It means absolutely nothing that the last follower is my brother and related to me.  He's probably jus glad he is mentioned on our glorious blog.  He might even say it is swell.  


He really enjoys the word swell.  He generally uses it to describe things like sonic tater tots and my awkward suitors.  


I will take a minute to describe him.  Imagine someone tall, lanky, skinny, not especially muscular, blonde, musically talented, and smart enough to make you wanna punch him in the face.  Yes, he is also adorable.  I jus wanna pinch his cheeks.  In a very I'm-not-actually-a-grandmother-or-eighty-years-old sorta way.  


So yeah he's going back to school this week.  Sigh.  Now we can't harmonize.  


Guess who will be seeing Wicked again?? ME!! And my mom.  It will be the third time since October.  


Except it's not showing in my city anymore, so what do we do??  Go to Florida to see it and disguise our trip with the purpose of seeing family.  


In order to get in the spirit of Wicked for two months from now, I've been listening to the soundtrack for like days on end.  "As Long As You're Mine" makes me tear up, and I will most likely awkwardly serenade someone (maybe P Meggy, jus to make her feel awkward) with it.  


The reader should note that my cat is currently snoring.  I think that's kinda weird.  I didn't know that cats could snore.  It's honestly somewhat surprising.  My parents snore loudly enough.  Now I have to deal with the cat too??  


The reader should also note that he is meow-mumbling in his sleep.  It's really rather adorable.  I'll put a picture of him on here someday.  


I am procrastinating.  Being that I haven't started this week's story, I feel saddened.  I like making deadlines.  It makes me feel both accomplished and organized.  I am not anywhere close to being the latter.  


So I will submit the story eventually.  Friday evening, instead of writing this week's story, I was editing the  debacle known as "Liberated."  I'm still very sorry for that, by the way.  


So, for P Meggy the Macon, I present the week's challenge.  Another songfic.  Because I love Wicked and fabulous music, your challenge is to create a songfic for "I'm Not That Girl."  Plenty of angst, first person POV, please.  Gracias.  


I will say it only once, because we are both very, very late.  


ELOPE.  


Hasta la Bye Bye from CatCooper<3


P.S. My cat just woke up.  He is looking at me strangely.  Also slightly homicidally.  What was he dreaming about??

P. Meggy's to-do list.

I like lists. A lot.
But I'm kind of stressed out right now, so I'm hoping that listing all the things I have to do will relieve some of that stress. Or not. Actually, I was kind of hoping it might make you stressed out because you're reading it :P


1. Last night's homework
2. Tonight's homework
3. Pack for the soccer tournament
4. Finish the short story
5. Work on the Spanish project
6. Write the friday fifteen for tomorrow
7. Go to the soccer tournament
8. Figure out when I'm going to have a birthday party, 'cause it's supposed to be special
9. Become a year older
10. Do more homework
11. Learn to drive.
12. and...stop making this to-do list because I have too much stuff to do.


~P. Megz OUT!!!

Tuesday Twenty...aka When will I ever do anything on time???

1. I do not, in fact, like the word elope.
2. It reminds me of antelope, and it just kinda sounds gross. For some reason. It's like the words secrete and mucous.
3. I never, ever, will do anything on time.
4. Life is going to be very difficult if I don't start meeting deadlines XD
5. I have a challenge for you, Cat. And it's not a songfic.
6. (btw, I'm sorry it's so late!)
7. Next time, I'll give you a songfic.
8. Maybe.
9. But it's not likely.
10. One day, I'll have another friday fifteen to write.
11. On friday.
12. And the story's on it's way. I promise.
13. So, even my kid brother calls me Megawsom. Just thought I would point that out.
14. And Melissa, I'll make your next story yellow...if you want :)
15. You just got to write another one for me to do so :P
16. "and if you're not getting answers ask better questions....then I'll never know, still I'll never know..."
17. random song lyrics courtesy of Cartel
18. I should write that history paper at some point...I also have a soccer tournament this weekend. *sigh* oh, well.
19. Cat, your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to write a steam-punk short story. :D
20. (for those of you who don't have the awsom knowledge of what that is*, steam-punk is the mixture of sci-fi stuff, with gears and machinery and such, with the romance and society of Victorian England.** It is, once more, awsom.)
~P. Megz OUT!!!
*I actually learned what steam-punk is from Castle. ("I am ruggedly handsome, aren't I?")
**It's like a dream come true <3 and (at least for me) a writer's playground :D

Halls cough drops told me to Get Back in the Game....

So here I am.  

After not posting for lik over a week.  

I was not being P Meggy the Misanthropist, I swear.  I was merely ducking my head in shame after the debacle that was "Liberated."  I'm going to edit, don't fret....

Where is P Meggy's story??  How many of you have asked that??  I have!!  "The Drink in my Hand" is lik my favorite song ever, so....

HURRY UP!!  I say that in the most loving way possible.  

So my school has a literary magazine that is put out lik once a year or something and I'm going to submit something (a poem and a short story) and I'm already nervous.  How does that happen??  I put crap all over the internet, but i get nervous about submitting it for a publication that's going to be read by all of not many people??  

To go along with that, anyone have a suggestion for which story and/or poem I should submit?   

Speaking of stories and poems, here's this.  R&R!!

Some Kind of Masochist

You wonder if you're some kind of masochist
You wonder if he got gist
And you wonder what you were really saying

You wonder how long it will be this time
Before he lies, plagiarizing the rhymes
Because it was all lies, right?

You wonder why he could distract you from that one
Even though that connection is pretty much gone
Because it's been two months and it's not getting easier

You wonder if he's happy without you
You wonder if other he is too
Because you're not fine without one

You wonder why it hurts when you talk near him
Because you know that he does listen
Even though you know it was never you

You wonder where it will all go from here
How hurt you'll get before the coast is clear
And who will throw in the towel first

You wonder why you sit writing poetry at night
You wish, for a second, you actually had a life
But then you might have to let go

You wonder how he could be so right for you
But so beyond indifferent too
How you are wrong for him

You know why it hurts to breathe when heartbreak comes up
Maybe just simple talk of love
So you head for the hills, hermit, coward

You know they both left you behind
And one was horrid, the other sublime
And you wonder if you're some kind of masochist

Hasta la Bye Bye from CatCooper<3

P.S. P Meggy's least favorite word is elope....

ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE ELOPE

I love having Guest Writers :)

this was written by Sarah! (in response to the last challenge!)

Avery got home from his field-trip a little early. His mom was sitting on the couch with his grandfather, her father, having a conversation. They looked up when he entered the room, his mother was particularly surprised to see him. 

“Honey, what are you doing home so early?” His mother asked.

Avery knew that the school was going to call soon, and he knew that telling her was inevitable. “I said a few controversial comments to the teachers at the museum today, and they didn’t find my attitude beneficial to the group’s learning.” He restated exactly what his teacher had told him before they had left. 

“Avery. What have i told you about smarting off to people, especially those in place of authority?” She thought a minute, “But what i don’t understand is why they sent you all the way home for a few rude comments.” 

He laughed nervously as he noticed for the first time that his grandfather was still in the room. “They didn’t.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

Avery took a deep breath, “They sent me home, because i pulled the fire alarm.”

His mom was on her feet faster than he could blink, “WHAT? I can’t believe you! You pulled the fire alarm! In a museum of all places, how much priceless art did you ruin? Do you understand what you have done?”

He couldn’t answer, but luckily he didn’t have to, the phone rang. His mom turned toward the kitchen, then glanced back towards Avery, “Do not move, i imagine that is the school.”

He had never seen her so mad, not when he broke the vase, or ran away to find his dad, or broke the window in the church. He let out the breath he had been holding the entire time since he had entered the door, and shuffled over to sit by his grandfather. 

“I don’t know why she is so mad,” Avery said, “There wasn’t anything there except that stupid statue.”

For the first time since he entered, his grandfather spoke, “I have been to that museum, and i’ve seen that statue. You know, it has an interesting story, would you like to hear it?”

“I don’t know if this is......” 

But he was interrupted by his grandfather, “Of course you do.”

“Um...ok.” Avery agreed hesitantly. 

“Hundreds of years ago, in England their lived a woman named Victoria. She was beautiful, kind, and lovely everyone she met seemed to love her. Victoria grew up in the countryside with her father, and little brother. One day her father decided it was time to take her daughter into town in order to be presented to society, and hopefully, eventually find a husband. They traveled the long road the next morning, and everyone stopped to look at the young girl, but she gave none of them even a passing glance. 

Over the next few years as she grew older, every spring and fall her father would take them into the town in hopes that she would find a husband. But everyone who dared court her, she turned down, coldly. During this time her brother was growing up, and becoming a very handsome man, when they would make their journeys to town he would catch the eyes of many women in the street. 

The spring of Victoria’s twenty-first year they traveled, as always, into the city. Without fail, over the next few days men came to her, asking for her hand, but without fail, she always denied. On the eve of their departure Victoria left the inn, where they were staying, and walked through the dark streets of the city. She had never been out at this time and saw a different manor of human prowling the cracks and crevasses of buildings. 

A man approached her, appearing from an alley-way, she hadn't even known he was there. He was old, and dirty, he looked as if the streets were his home, as smelled like it too. 

“Excuse me, miss?”The man said. 

Victoria tried to walk passed him, but he cut in front of her. “Miss, I just would like to talk. Your so beautiful, like a blissful morning breeze after a cold night.”

“Excuse me sir, but you are standing in my path.” She said curtly, and tried to go around. 

“So I am.”He laughed, and blocked her once more. She nearly got around him the next time, but he caught her arm and she cried out. At that moment a great weight, like that of a bull hit the man, and sent all scrambling to the ground. 

She looked around, slightly dazed, it took her a minute but she realized that the bull was actually her brother. He had come to her rescue and was now fighting with the old man, who seemed to have the upper hand, at first. 

The fight was short- lived because the old man soon ran out of energy, and could no longer fight. Her brother hit the man on the head with a rock that he found lying in the spreading crumble of a nearby building, but not before the old man bit her brother on the arm. 

Once the old man was unconscious her brother jumped up, ran to her, and embraced her. She could feel the heat radiating off him, he pulled back only to scream. Victoria couldn’t tell what had happened, but her brother took off into the night. 

Victoria went looking for her brother, but didn’t find him. In fact, she didn’t see her brother for another fifteen years, until one night, he visited her. They talked for hours, but all in the cover of darkness. When light began to peak over the horizon, her brother became anxious.  

“I must leave,” He turned toward the open window.   

“When will i see you again.” Victoria pleaded.

“I cannot return, it is too dangerous.You are better off without me”

“Brother! I cannot believe you would say such a thing.” she gasped and slapped him across the face. 

He became angry, Victoria could tell something strange was happening. One moment he was hugging himself on the floor, the next he stood tall and proud before her, with wings sprouted out his back. She fell to the floor in astonishment, he just stood, growing more aware of the ever increasing light behind him. 

“Victoria. Sister, do not be afraid, it is me, your brother. That night so long ago, when i was bitten by the old man, he must have been something truly unnatural for he turned me into this.” He tried to walk toward her, but she coward in fear, making him stop. 

“What exactly are you, brother?” she asked hesitantly. 

“That is the question i have been trying to answer since the day i left you, i know that i do not sleep, i do not eat, i grow wings when i am angry, and i enjoy dark, damp, positively dreary places.”

“Brother, how do you live?” Victoria asked. 

“You need not concern yourself with that, Victoria, for you would not like what you heard.” He knew his time was waning, the light was coming closer. 

“Kiss me, sister, before i’m gone.” He said. She got up from her spot on the floor, and reached out to kiss her brother, even with his new revelation. Just as they embraced, the sun came up over the horizon, and hit Victoria’s brother in the back. 

“But Grandpa, why would it make them both turn to stone, Victoria wasn’t like her brother.” Avery asked, after his grandfather finished the story.

“Because it was said that she loved her brother so much that the spell didn’t know they were separate people, and turned them both to stone. They were moved to America after the original house they were in, burned down. But that Avery, is a story for another time.”

“I should probably go apologize, right?” Avery asked.

His grandfather smiled, and Avery heard his mom hang up the phone. “Thanks grandpa.” 

And all the best lies, they are told with fingers tied. So cross them tight...

1. 10.68934567 awsom points if you saw the title and immediately knew what song I referenced.

2. I can give away cool points too :P
3. Yeah, what now?
4. So this is another Sunday Seventeen. (Because I forgot. Again)
5. I already know all the words to the song I'm supposed to write for.
6. That's dedication, right there.
7. I loved, loved, loved Cat's story. :D I thought it was awsom.
8. I now officially own thick-rimmed glasses. :P
9. You know what? I forgot what I was going to originally say.
10. three thousand-eleven more pages to go!
11. And then I plan on reading The Man in the Iron Mask. (written by the same person. I didn't know that. Learn something new everyday)
12. BLAH.
13. I also have a bright, colorful (and, most of all, trendy) scarf. :)
14. 
15. I was all like "WOO this is the last one!" and then I remembered it's Sunday Seventeen. And this number is only 15.

16. Did I purposely leave #14 blank? No...
17. (it says ninja. duh.)
~P. Megz OUT!!!

It's already light and the stars ran away with the night....

Liberated

I never knew he would never come back.  Shock is all I seem capable of feeling. 

When I move house, as he told me to do, should he not return, I feel the same shock. 

When I sit in the garden and knit socks for a man who I will never again see, I feel the same shock. 

When I eat alone, with a silence and solitude interrupted only by the occasional servant, I feel the same shock. 

When I lie in bed alone, knowing that the space next to me will never again be filled by the presence of my sweet, sweet Roy, the shock has left me.  All I find myself capable of feeling is grief. 

Anguish travels through my veins, pumping agony to every part of my body from a crushed heart. 

Roy I think.  You said you’d be back.  What stopped you?

I shudder and cease wondering why he hasn’t returned. 

I was but sixteen when I learned of Roy’s secrets.  Sheltered and carefully cultivated in the Deep South, my upbringing was based on ideas of perfection in children and obedience from a wife. 

I often spent time on the shores of the ocean, a beach two miles from my family’s home.  I watched the waves rise and fall, crashing deeply.  I couldn’t help but wondered if that was how my father and mother’s crumbling marriage would end.  Explosive, violent, furious. 

Drawing a bird in the sand absentmindedly, I reflected on how my family had begun to spiral out of control.

 Though I felt guilty for blaming him, I knew it had all started with my father.  He was seen several cities away, with young, scantily clad women.  Infidelity was his Achilles' heel, what led him away from our farm for weeks. 

Then came my older sister Florence’s part in the destruction of our family.  My father said her eloping brought shame to our family, but, secretly, in the back of my mind, I was happy for her.  Somewhere, hundreds of miles away, I hoped she was walking barefooted over lushly green hills, hand-and-hand with her Jesse. 

Walter, my older brother certainly didn’t help.  After a heated dispute with my father, he’d left, taking a job at a newspaper far, far north. 

The strain of losing my father to seductresses miles away had not been good to my mother, but the pain of two of her three children leaving had left her crippled.  Rarely, after Walter left, was a bottle not seen on her, seldom did the smell of alcohol leave her breath. 

She and my father had entered another quarrel just before I left for the beach that morning.  The screaming hadn’t started when I’d left, but I’d known it wouldn’t be long before shouts echoed off of every surface in our house. 

I drew wings on the bird with a flourish, wondering how long it would be before I shamed my family, wondering if I already had. 

Rapidly approaching footsteps scared me out of my reverie.  A bearded man was sprinting towards me, glancing over his shoulder every few moments. 

He stopped a few feet from me, grinning broadly, as though an idea had just struck him.  After ripping off his black coat, he dropped beside me.  He tugged off the beard, a fake, and whispered, “Act like you know me.” 

I turned sharply, responding with a timid “Why?” 

“Take a chance.”  He grinned and glanced over his shoulder again. 

I might’ve run, if not for the mischievous spark in his emerald eyes. 

Heavy footfalls thudded behind us; I looked to see two very breathless constables. 

Shooting me a meaningful stare, my new acquaintance stood, pulling me up and grasping my hand. 

“Is there something we can help you with?” he asked with a southern drawl that had not been there moments before. 

“Have you seen a bearded man?” one of the officers queried, wheezing between words.  “Wearing black?” 

The emerald-eyed man frowned and shook his head.  “I don’t believe so, sirs.  Whoever he is, I hope you find him.” 

They turned and left moments later, wishing us a good day. 

I sat back down and he plopped beside me.  “I’m Roy.”  He grinned broadly, holding out a hand.  I recognized his accent to be from the north, although his drawl had been very accurate. 

I looked at him suspiciously, cautiously taking his hand.  “Cora.”

Roy squinted, making me feel entirely transparent, as though he knew how scared I was of my father, how I hated that my mother was never sober, how I missed Walter and Florence.  I stared at my feet, flushing slightly. 

“It’s good to meet you, Cora.” 

I nodded, my eyes darting to his face before resting on the waves.  His handsome face.  Roy really was a good-looking guy and probably only three or four years older than me. 

A thought struck me suddenly.  What was I doing, sitting on a beach with some man who was probably an outlaw? 

“I should go,” I said mechanically, wincing at the thought of returning home in the middle of another altercation. 

“Don’t leave just yet.”  Roy frowned.  “I’m not dangerous.  Illegal, yes.  Unsafe in any way, no.” 

I fought with myself mentally, wanting to stay, but knowing it wasn’t the best idea. 

“At least keep me company for a little while,” he pleaded. 

“Alright.”  I sighed, sitting back down. 

Roy began to talk asking me mindless questions.  What was my favorite color?  Green.  Did I read?  Yes.  What books?  Mysteries.  Which ones?

His questions went on and on, until he got me to laugh. 

“There.”  He grinned triumphantly. 

“What?” I asked self-consciously. 

“I got you to smile.  You really should smile more often.  It’s a nice smile.” 

I fought back a grin. 

“Don’t hide it,” Roy chastised. 

I let my lips draw back, showing as many teeth as I thought possible. 

My smile faded as I noticed the sun slowly sinking closer to the horizon.  “I should be going.”  I sighed.  “Really.” 

“Hmm.”  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  “That’s too bad.  I didn’t really want to stop talking yet.” 

“Me neither,” I whispered. 

“Can I see you again?” Roy asked hopefully. 

I simply nodded. 

“Here, in a week?” 

I grinned, nodding again. 

He beamed.  “I can’t wait.”

Roy bowed deeply and kissed my hand.  I responded with a theatrical curtsy before walking away. 

“Next week!” Roy called from the shore.

I waved, giggling flippantly. 

I cry brokenly as I remember how Roy was my sunshine, the light in my life.  My mother and father continued to fight, I saw Roy.  That was all I knew of life, all I wanted to know. 

“You know something?” Roy asked. 

“I know a lot of things,” I replied wryly. 

One corner of his mouth pulled up.  “You know I swindle people out of their money daily and steal and lie and cheat.” 

“Yes, I do.”  I beamed. 

He hesitated. 

“Roy, I told you that my father scares the livin’ daylights outta me sometimes.  I never told anyone else that, not even my sister.  You can tell me anything,” I assured him. 

He sighed.  “You don’t know what really and truly makes me a social outcast.” 

“If you want me to know, you can tell me,” I said gently. 

“I show you,” he said softly.  I wasn’t used to a meek Roy, only the cocky, playful Roy I’d met on the beach. 

My thoughts on his sudden change were interrupted.  The cloth on the back of his shirt ripped, two bat-like wings bursting through. 

I was so shocked I couldn’t breath. 

Roy bowed his head, ashamed. 

“Roy,” I said once I’d been able to breath. 

He didn’t respond, his…wings moving slightly in the wind. 

“Roy,” I said more firmly.  “Look at me.” 

He did so. 

“I don’t care what it means that you have…”  I was uncertain how to word my sentence. 

“Wings?” he finished dryly. 

“Yes.  I think you are still the most handsome man this side of the Rockies.”  I wrapped my arms around him, my hands grazing over his wings.  They were leathery and…strange, but I part of Roy.  “You’re still Roy, and I’m still Cora.  This changes nothing.”

He looked at me intensely for a moment.  “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Roy grinned crazily.  “Marry me.” 

I gasped.  “What?”   

“Marry me!  We’ll move so far away that your father could never find you.”  He laughed loudly.  I’ll build you the biggest, most beautiful house you’ve ever seen!” 

“Roy… I…”  I didn’t know what to think.  “Yes!  Yes!”  I repeated, giggling with joy. 

He picked me up and spun me around. 

“It’s a perfect plan.”  He grinned. 

“It is.”  I sighed.  

“What is it?  What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“My mother.”  What would she do without me? 

“Cora, you do what you have to.  I’ll wait here all night for you.” 

I stand by the window in my bedroom, hoping for some sign of him in the night sky. 

“Mother!” I yelled as I ran through the house.  “Mother!”

I finally found her in the parlor.  “Mother?” 

“Hmm?”  She stared at me drunkenly. 

“I’m…”  I couldn’t leave her.  My heart sank at the thought of making Roy wait any longer, making me wait any longer. 

She got up and half-stumbled across the room, getting something out of a chest of drawers.  She staggered over to me, pressing something in my hands.  “Make sure he treats you right,” she slurred. 

I threw my arms around her.  “I love you, Mama.” 

“Cora.”  

She returned to the couch sitting down and picking up her bottle.  I looked in my hands to see her jade ring, the one she always used to wear, when Walter, Florence, and I were young, and everything was happy. 

I slid it onto my right hand, promising to wear it always. 

I rub the ring that still rests on my finger.  I have fulfilled my promise. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” my father roared, eyeing the clothing slung over my arm. 

I froze. 

“Where?” he repeated, even louder.  He struck me on the side of the head.  “Where?”

I stayed silently, tears rolling down my cheeks. 

He raised his hand to hit me again, but, before he could, a bottle crunched over his head.  He fell limp on the floor, my mother behind him. 

“It was empty anyways.”  She shrugged.  “Now you get out of here.”

With one final hug, I left to meet Roy, to meet the future. 

I still don’t know what happened to Mother or my father.  All I’ve thought about these last nine years was Roy.  I stare out the window, despite the fact that I know he will never return. 

Suddenly, a shape flies down, an enormous, silhouette.  Upon closer examination, I realize it is raven. 

I wait for hours, falling asleep in a hard wooden chair beside the window. 

When I wake up, my back hurts, but I do not consider it.  My heart hurts too much more. 

I find a dress and try to convince myself that everything will be okay. 

Day is breaking as I return to the window.  Another form swoops down.  One that doesn't look so bird-like. 

I run down the stairs, to our foyer, to find the front door opening. 

Intelligent emerald eyes with dark circles under them meet my hazels.

Roy embraces me, kissing me passionately. 

“You came,” I whisper over and over.  Tears gathering in my eyes. 

My hand brushes against his wing and I wonder if this is how it feels to fly. 

Relieved, weightless, liberated.