Without seeming to notice, he’s moving straight towards me, and I don’t move an inch. And for a

second there I’m hoping… I don’t know what. That he’ll stop to talk, and take this throbbing pain away.

That he’ll smile at me again, see me again, care again. That things will be just like they were between

us. He looks up as he passes, and our eyes meet briefly. He doesn’t even flinch, just moves on, and

disappears inside.

I close my eyes and try to breathe it off. But the nausea keeps rising all the same, and there’s cold

sweat on my hands. I walk away quickly, until I reach the lonely darkness of the park. The fog and the

black shadows of the trees swallow me.

White as snow. Perfect like a doll. Should I ever fall, who’s gonna be there to catch me? Who’d even

dare to tell me if I pushed things too far? Trey? Andrea? The thought makes me choke out a small,

painful laugh.

After all this time, after everything that’s happened, I don’t know whether James would just watch

until I hit the ground, cold and unmoved, or if he’d still care enough to pull the ripcord to save me in

time.

White as snow, and perfectly still. Why did the kid have to go and pull some shit like that? Did he do

it on purpose? Was it an accident?

Things with Nick were never supposed to be complicated. But I guess a lot of things weren’t

supposed to be. Why the hell did I have to be the one to find you, Keller? Why did you ever come to

me? Don’t you know that I’m crap at this kind of thing? No strings attached, you knew that from the

start. It was supposed to be a one night, one time thing. I never gave you reason to hope for more than

what it was. And you didn’t, did you? Why would you have? You don’t even know me! And I sure as

hell don’t know you.

I’m sick and tired of putting on a show. I’m sick of them all. Sick of the emptiness. Sick of being on

my own.

And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust?

There he is, wimpy prince Hamlet who can’t get his act together, right in my head. And anything but

wimpy now that I’m beginning to understand. What was I waiting for? What the hell was I waiting for?

Are you gonna live, Keller? Was I too late?

My stomach starts to turn, and I lean against a tree, coughing painfully. Violently fighting down the

urge to heave. The effort seems to drain me of all energy, leaves me small and sore. The icy air stings in

my lungs again. Everything around me momentarily fades to pitch black. White as snow, and images of

angels and demons are spinning in my head. It feels like a dance of death for the prince of pretending.

Over there, I remember. Just over there is where I kissed him last. Just over there is where James

finally seemed to be mine. Snow on Halloween night. How fitting is it, something as unlikely happening

that very moment? How unlikely is it, Rizzo falling for someone like him?

There’s only questions left, no answers. There’s only might-have-beens and could-have-dones. And

still, no regrets. It makes me calmer, realizing this. Have I been changed? Am I still the same selfcentered

bastard I once opted to be? Am I still playing games, or has the game begun to play me?

White as snow. Perfect like a doll. And a distant ripcord, dangling just above my reach. There’s

nothing left for me to do except wait. I’m standing still, feeling the rough bark beneath my fingertips,

listening into the darkness. And so I wait.

End of Book 3

Back to Table of Contents

Book 4

Retribution

by Susann Julieva & Romelle Engel

Chapter 1

Time Out

NICK: Dark. Numb. Quiet. Hot, hard hands shaking shoulders. Dark eyes, familiar voice, worried (like

it shouldn’t be, never is). Not supposed to be here. Why now?

Fading. Dark again. Still. So still.

Angry voices. Loud. Too many. Beeps and lights, noises and hands. More hands. Fading in and out.

Moving. Cold. More lights, alien wail.

New pain. Throat, stomach, head. Twisting, aching, stabbing, tearing, turning inside out.

Cold. Freezing. Shiver. Hot. Shiver. Nauseous. Shake.

Talking. Screaming. Begging. Please, please, make it stop.

Stop.

* * *

I’m staring at a woman that’s sitting in a chair near where I am, and I know that she’s asked me a

question. Or told me something important. I know that I’m supposed to know who she is. I know that

the white coat she’s wearing should be some clue. I know that I should probably remember where I am,

too.

But I don’t. I don’t, because every time I try to grab onto a thought, it slips away again like sand, and

there’s nothing I can do about it. And really, it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.

I don’t care about anything.

I watch her lips move as she talks, and the words move around me like I’m not even there.

“University, stress, friends, lifestyle, too much, common, drugs, attempt, help, medication, suicide,

Nick.” I know that last one, it’s my name. I remember…

* * *

“Nick, come on. Sign the papers. They won’t move you somewhere else without your consent, and

they won’t let me do anything unless you agree to it. I can’t have you in County Hospital, and my

lawyer says that unless you sign this, it’s either that or jail. The neighbors would never stop talking if

they found out. So sign the paper, and you’ll be moved somewhere else… I should’ve made your father

deal with you for once.”

It fades again. I’m glad until I forget to be.

* * *

I wake up with the sun slanting across my ceiling and the hard edge of something pressing into my face.

When I move my hand up, I realize that the edge belongs to a plastic bracelet that’s around my wrist just

tight enough that I can’t pull it off.

There’s a knock somewhere to my left, and when I turn my head, I realize that it came from the

closed door there.

“Keller, you awake?” A large man pokes his head in the room, his dark skin a contrast to his clean

light scrubs, and I just blink at him, wondering if I’m supposed to know who he is. The way he says my

name makes me think that I should.

* * *

Cold floor under my chest. Bare. Shivering and sweating and why am I on the floor? Someone’s yelling,

crying. It stops when I take a breath, and I realize it’s me. I clench my teeth together and it doesn’t start

again. Heavy weight on my back that shifts once I stop yelling.

“You done?” Deep voice. I nod and the weight is gone, dark arms picking me up to set me on my

feet.

“You going to run again?” I didn’t realize that I had been running, but I shake my head.

“Okay. Back to bed then.”

* * *

He sees me looking back at him and gives me a smile that seems mostly friendly. “Yeah, Doc said you

might be more with it today. You getting up for breakfast, or do I need to come in and haul you up?”

Terrified at the thought of this strange man coming in the room to “haul” me out of bed, I push back

my covers and slide out, wincing when my bare feet hit the cold floor. The man leaves without another

word, and I’m left to study this place.

The room around me seems familiar, even has a very few of my things in it, but at the same time, it’s

like it’s the first time I’m seeing it. I try thinking harder, hoping that my brain will give me some

answers, but all I get is some stupid fog, nothing in focus. Nothing that helps me any.

I step outside the door, bare feet on harsh carpeting, and look down the long hallway, a line of other

doors just like the one I’m looking out of. I see a woman up the hall leave her room, shutting her door