An Outtake From My Day

I had been working on making some Teriyaki chicken, with an open bottle and a closed bottle of Teriyaki sauce. I had finished the opened bottle and set it on the counter(I thought) and began opened the previously unopened bottle. When I turned back to the counter, the bottle I had finished was missing. All that was left was a solitary cap. I began looking furiously around where I had been standing when I set the finished bottle down, for I feared someone finding the bottle and saying the equivalent of "What the...?! What is this bottle doing here? Good grief, it's all moldy!" and then, being blamed. After looking throroughly on the counters and in the trash can, I became convinced that the imps had stolen the bottle for some devious purpose. After I began pouring more Teriyaki sauce on the chicken that remained, my friend(who was making a salad at the time) looked into the trash can and said, "Hey! I see a nutrition facts label!" Sure enough, when I had moved the trash around so that I could see the rest of the label, it was the missing Teriyaki bottle I had left "on the counter." I still think the imps did it. Not long after, I began looking for the cap to the "missing bottle." When I informed my friend of this, she looked meaningfully in the trash can. I smacked her.

Nina the Hero, Pt. 3

"Ninny, how many times have I told you not to bring your hands up that fast," Shazimner said from a pile of hay in Nina's family's barn.
"Yeah, yeah. And how many times have I told you not to call me Ninny?" Nina retorted as she pulled Shazimner out of the hay.
"Nina!" Nina's father called. "Where are you?"
"Practicing my swordsman ship in the barn," she hollered back. Her father stepped into the barn.
"Nina," he said, "Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"
"Like chittering about the pretty dress in the store and how much you want it?" Shazimner suggested.
"And anyone better to spend your time with?" Her father sighed. "Nina, I got you a dress for the fair this friday, if you're interested."
Nina dropped Shazimner and ran forward to hug her father.
"Oh, sure. Don't worry about the sword," Shazimner mumbled.
"Really, father?" Nina asked. He nodded. "Oh, thank you!"

Nina the Hero, Pt. 2

Nina grinned up at her older brother. It was her thirteenth birthday today, and as a present, her brother, Daniel, was taking her on a hunting trip.
"Oh, Daniel! Look! A huge deer," Nina whispered excitedly. Daniel followed her finger to where a buck was sitting sunning itself. It cocked an ear towards them as Daniel knocked an arrow into his bow. He drew the string back, then let go. Daniel walked up to the body. Nina began to follow, but stopped when she noticed a flash of light. She crept carefully forward. She crouched down and poked tentatively at a sword that was lying in front of her.
"Hey!" it shouted in a deep, ringing voice. Nina tried to jump back from a crouch but ended up sprawling on her back. "Cut that out, will you? You don't see me poking you."
"Pardon me," she gasped, "But did you just speak to me?"
"Who else could have? The tree?"
"Well, actually," the tree began politely.
"My name is Shazimner," the sword said, ignoring the tree.
"Er... Mine's Nina, I guess," Nina muttered.
"Well, 'Nina, I guess,' how would you like to be a hero? Don't just give me an awestruck look, answer me!"
"Yes, sir. I would like that, sir," Nina replied.
"And don't talk to me like I'm you're dad, girl! You can just refer to me as 'Almighty Lord and Master,' OK?" the sword said. Nina narrowed her eyes. Her initial shock was starting to fade.
"I'm just going to call you sword or Shazimner."
"Nina!" her brother called. "Where are you?" Nina snatched up the sword and ran up to her brother. "Hey, cool sword! Where'd you find it?" Daniel asked as soon as Nina came within his sight.
"Right over there." She pointed. "Daniel! I'm gonna be a hero!"
"No need to get frenetic about it," Shazimner muttered.
"It talks? Neat!" Daniel said enthusiastically.

Nina the Hero, Pt. 1

Nina the hero strode into the tavern. She looked around at the familiar surroundings. The worn benches, the stained tables, and the stools that had been repaired so many times that they resembled scabbed and scaly reptiles. She walked over to the counter and sat on one of the deranged stools.
"Hi, Nina!" the tavern keeper said. "What would you like today?"
"The usual," she said. She thought for a moment. "With potatoes," she added. Nina turned to face the old man that was sitting next to her. "Hello, John. How have you been since I've been gone?"
"I've been doing wonderfully, now that the dog and wife have passed on," the old man replied. He grinned maliciously. Nina gave him a Look.
"I see..." she said carefully.
"I can't believe you'd come to a slum like this," a deep, ringing voice muttered. Nina glanced at her sword.
"It happens to be one of the best places round," she growled back.
"What was that? I thought I heard someone talking," the old man said, looking around wildly.
"What? Talking? I didn't hear anything," Nina answered innocently. "Shut up or you'll get us kicked out of ANOTHER inn," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth, apparently directing her comment to her sword on her waist.
"Nothing fools these old ears. I'm telling you, I heard a voice, clear as day," the old man said, eyeing Nina's scabbard. The tavern keeper set Nina's food down in front of her.
"Yeah, yeah. OLD ears, I might note," the voice said slightly louder.
"Shut up, shut up," Nina muttered through a mouth of food.
"I heard it for sure that time!" the old man crowed gleefully. "Did you hear it? Nina? Tavern keeper?" Nina shook her head violently.
"Come on, Nina. I even heard it that time," the tavern keeper said. "It was a rather rude comment."
"Nice, fats. So you can hear, too, huh?" the voice said. The tavern keeper tried to draw himself up to his full height, but only succeeded in his full width. He pointed a trembling finger at Nina. She seemed startled by the finger.
"Was that you who just insulted my customer and me?" the tavern keeper said with indignant fury. Nina sighed. She pulled a handful of coins out of her pocket and dropped them on the counter. She grabbed what food she could, then headed outside. Once she was outside, she leaned against the stable door and started eating as fast as she could. After she had finished, she climbed on to her horse and set off into the night.
"It was true," the voice mumbled.
"Shazimner, take my advice and quit talking," Nina growled. "I don't know why I even bothered to pick you up. Now, all the taverns I went to as a child think I've grown up into some kind of prig." She sighed. She remembered the day she found Shazimner practically like she remembered what just happened in the tavern...

Chase: Send in the Bats

Chase grabbed the puppy and gat brutally attacked for his efforts. He had had the puppy for close to a day now, and was thoroughly tired of it. He delicately pulled the little teeth out of his arm and dropped the puppy into an old playpen.
"Stay!" he commanded the puppy. He turned around to go answer the phone that had been ringing for a while now. "Ahem, hello?" The puppy, sensing Chase's attention elsewhere, gnawed a hole in the playpen's netting, and escaped it to scamper around the house and reek destruction to Chase's newly furnished bedroom. Chase hung up the telephone, jotted down an address, and turned to look at the puppy in the playpen. Chase yelled at the top of his lungs and leapt for his bedroom. He knew Puppy had his eye on those new bed sheets he had just gotten. Chase landed in his door way and stopped dead. The sheets lay on the floor in ruin, along with all his pillows, sofas, game-stations... Chase screamed bloody murder at Puppy, who went scrambling between Chase's legs out into the hallway. Chase slammed the door to his room shut, snatched up Puppy, and dropped it back into the playpen.
"Maybe chicken wire," Chase mused as Puppy began to slip out of the hole it had previously created. Chase grabbed Puppy, grabbed some old cookies and a plastic bowl from his kitchen, then proceeded to his bathroom. Once in the bathroom, Chase closed the door with his foot, then set about to making preparations for Puppy.

Half an hour later of setting up the bathtub for Puppy, repeatedly placing Puppy in the bathtub after its multiple escapes, and stitching up the playpen, Chase finally made his way to the hardware store to get some chicken wire. Upon arriving, he walked up to a clerk and said:
"I've got a new puppy and I need some chicken wire to keep it in its playpen. How many yards would I need?" The clerk's eyes grew large in horror.
"Surely, sir," she said, "You don't intend to IMPRISON the poor thing?!" Chase raised his eyebrows.
"Listen, lady," he said, "I spent over one hundred and fifty bucks buying those sheets. And pillows. And sofas. And game-stations. I think the little mutt can survive a few weeks in a playpen with food and daily walks. Just tell me how much freaking chicken wire I need."
"Keeping an animal caged up like that is animal abuse!" 'Obviously,' Chase thought, 'This woman is dead set on her views.'
"Later," he said as he walked away. He walked up to another clerk who was wandering the store. "I need some chicken wire to go around a playpen." The clerk looked at him funny, then hurried off.
After many clerks and threats later, Chase finally stepped inside his house to see...no Puppy. Hoping he was still where he left him, Chase opened the bathroom door to be greeted by an energetic Puppy.
"Good Puppy. Now, come. I'm going to fix your playpen." And so he set about to work.

Chase crept quietly away from the apartment. Soon his target's spouse would discover the target's motionless body. Thwack! Something small and warm smacked into Chase's chest. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Correction, four small warm things. Chase flicked on his flashlight and played it on to the ground. He saw four small, warm, cute little bats, all of which were looking right at him. 'Oh, dear,' he thought. He turned off his flashlight and ran for his car, fiddled with the keys, then climbed through the door and shut it quickly, but not fast enough. Four bright little eyes looked up at him. Four tiny little squeaks were sounded off. Four tiny pairs of teeth went for his finger.
"Aaaiiieee! No! Here! Wanna wanna month old cookie?!" The four little bats squeaked, then flew for the cookie proffered. "Right then. I'm going home. I guess you'll want to come, too?" he said vexely. Four tiny little squeaks agreed. "Crud." And Chase drove home.

Chase: Puppy Feeder

Chase crept through the darkness. Silent as an ninja on steroids, he approached the house. His target would be asleep currently. It would make the job easier. He creeps, he opens the door, he slips into the dark bedroom. There lies his target, sleeping soundly. Never again to see the light of day with clear eyes. He drew his knife, slashed, then began cleaning it.

He crept toward the door of the now dead target's house, only to be stopped by a low pitched keening. Chase's neck hairs stood on end as he spun aroundto find...a small puppy? Chase bent over and vaguely patted the small animal, then continued back to the door. He opened the door and stepped out into the cool, dark night. He walked to his car in a dark part of the street and climed in. As he began closing the door, the puppy jumped into his lap. Rather startled by this, Chase looked at the animal in his lap.
"Um, hello?" he said cautiously. The puppy began wagging it's tail so energetically that it practically fell over. It started sticking its nose at Chase's multiple pockets. 'OK,' Chase thought, 'I have now got a hungry puppy. I'm sure this was covered in those assassin classes I slept through.'
"Erm, Puppy wanna din-din?"Chase asked, hoping that this was one of the times that his car hadn't been bugged. The puppy barked happily. "Puppy wanna, uh, Cheetoh wrapper?" The puppy howled at the top of it's voice. "OK, OK!" Chase moaned. "How about, um, this month old cookie?" Chase jerked his hands back as small, sharp teeth attacked the cookie. He watched the puppy eat the cookie, then started the car to drive off. Little did Chase know he would soon have a small possé.

HiShojo(Sun girl) Part 1

The teacher looked over the tops of his glasses menacingly. He glared at all of his students, willing them to pay attention to him. The students sat and waited patiently. The teacher didn’t seem to notice.
“I know you don’t listen to me much,” the teacher begins while the students listen attentively, “But there once was a time...”
XXxxxXX
Several hours later, the teacher finishes: “And that is why penguins should be out-lawed! Oh, yes. The transfer student.” The teacher turns to look for said transfer student. She was of an average height; her hair was a fiery red. She had always been considered a good listener, and so it was a pity that she was now laying on the ground, nearly killed from boredom, just for being polite to her teacher.
“Um, Transfer Student?” the teacher said cautiously. “Someone call the nurse. I believe she’s had a heart attack.”
XXxxxXX
The transfer student sat glumly by herself in the cafeteria, lost amidst her own thoughts, so that she didn’t notice when two boys from her new class came and sat next to her.
“Hey!” the shorter of the two said. “My name is Alan; this is David.” The shorter one, Alan, indicated the taller boy, David. The two boys sat quietly for a minute, watching the transfer student munch away on her food.
“Oookaay,” David said. “So, what’s your name?” the transfer student continues to ignore them. Or is she just enjoying her lunch?
“Oooh! French fries!” Alan says as he reaches for the transfer student’s food. The transfer student grabs Alan’s wrist and gives him a dirty look. “Heh. Going for the food always get attention,” he said happily. He paused and looked at his wrist. “You know, your hand feels like it’s an iron- AAAAAAARRRRGGGG!” Alan suddenly took flight, literally, pulling his hand out of Transfer Student’s currently aflame hand. David grabbed Transfer Student’s wrist and, with a vexed look in his eye, shoved her hand into a nearby water glass, successfully putting out Transfer Student’s hand.
“Gar! How’d you do that?” Alan moaned. “Do you have a lighter in your hand or something?”
“My name is Mizu,” Transfer Student, or Mizu, said abruptly. “Japanese for water.” Mizu walked away.
“Hey! I’m not done with you!” Alan hollered as he moved to follow Mizu. David grabbed Alan’s arm, then indicated to Alan not to follow Mizu.
“She’s the one,” David muttered.

Short Mystery

Alice stepped into her apartment building. She had just returned from work and was looking forward to a nice, relaxed evening in bed with a book. She walked up to the elevator, and stopped. A flash of bright color had caught her eye near the stairs. Next to the stairs, she saw a long, thin strip of neon pink paper lying on the ground with one end in a puddle of a thick, red, goopey liquid.
Alice walked up to the strip of paper and carefully pulled it out of the liquid. The strip of paper had been soaked through. She dropped the paper and tried to shake the sticky, lumpy liquid off her hand. A drip fell from above into the puddle. She looked up to see where the liquid was coming from. She followed the drips up past several levels until she saw the drips coming from her floor.
She crept carefully up to the stairs, and began to climb. "I could yell up the stairs to scare them," she thought, "But they might try to kill me instead of running. I could get help, but they might get away before I come back."
When she reached the top of the stairs, she peered around the corner and saw that the thick substance was oozing from under a door that was near by. She recognized the door as her own. She walked over and began to unlock her door. She noticed a light and quiet voices behind the door. She stepped back when the door was flung open. Alice blinked in the bright light.
“Surprise!” everybody yelled. “Happy birthday!"
"Sorry about spilling the fruit punch,” someone hollered over the noise of the other people singing 'For She's A Jolly Good Fellow.'

Sam

It was early in the morning when Marcus got ready to leave for school. Marcus was a sophomore in high school with brown hair and blue eyes. He had just enough time to write in his journal before his mom finished cooking breakfast.

Sept. 1 Today is my first day of school as a sophomore. I wonder if I’ll have any friends this year. Being a freshman sucked. Everyone picked on me. I’ve got to go now, Mom finished breakfast.

At the dining table, Marcus sucked down his pancakes at a rate that surprised his father.
“Slow down, Marc, it’s only the first day of school.” He chuckled. “There’s no rush to leave yet.” Marcus got up, and then took his plate to the sink.
“’Bye, Mom and Dad,” Marcus said just before he rushed out the door.

Marcus stared, glassy-eyed, at the teacher. He had to keep himself awake until the end of class. The bell rang. He shoved his stuff into his backpack, then ran to the front of the room.
“Thank you for the lesson, sir,” Marcus said to the teacher.
“Anytime, Timothy,” the teacher replied.
“Marcus.”
“Right.”
Marcus walked out of the classroom, then into the hall. He opened his locker and pulled out a stick of gum he had been saving. He put the gum in his mouth, then walked out of the school. He crossed over a quiet street that was near his home to a sidewalk with a retaining wall on one side. Suddenly, a boy stepped out of the wall in front of Marcus. Marcus’s eyes lit up.
“Wow! How’d you do that?” he asked. “I wish I could do that.”
“I just do it. My name is Sam, what’s yours?” the boy, Sam, replied.
“Marcus. Could you teach me how to walk through walls?” Marcus asked.
“No,” Sam replied. Marcus looked sad. “But I could teach you how to fly.”
“Alright! When do we start?” Marcus said, as he approached his house’s driveway.
“Tomorrow, see you then!” Sam walked away.
Marcus rushed into his house. “Hi, Mom. I’m home!” he said.
“I made a friend today. His name is Sam.”
“That’s nice, dear,” his mom said from the kitchen. “Help me with the dishes will you?” Marcus dropped his backpack, then joined his mom in the kitchen.

Sept. 2 Yesterday, I made a new friend! His name is Sam. He can walk through walls. He’s going to teach me how to fly! I can hardly wait ‘til after school. I can’t wait until I can fly off buildings! That will be so cool!

Marcus was walking along the wall where he met Sam. And again, Sam walked out of the wall in the same place as before.
“Ready to start, then?” he asked.
“Am I ever!” Marcus replied.
“Okay, let’s start low, then we’ll work our way up. Now think a happy thought.” Marcus got a dreamy look on his face. “Concentrate on that thought. Now, let go of gravity...” Sam continued tutoring Marcus like this for quite some time, until “Okay, that’s enough for one day,” Sam said.
“Can you come home with me?” Marcus asked, ”I want you to meet my mom.”
“Okay... but she may not see me.”
“I can see you just fine. Come on!” Marcus dragged Sam into his front yard. “Stay here, I’ll get my mom,” Marcus said. Marcus stepped inside his house.
“Hi, mom. I’m home! Sam’s here, too. Would you like to meet him?”

“Marcus, I want you to clean your room right this instant! You should have cleaned it yesterday!” his mom yelled.
“But, Sam!” Marcus started.
“He can wait. Now clean your room! Now!” Marcus skittered up the stairs like a frightened chipmunk. Marcus’s mom stepped outside.
“I’m sorry, Sam, but Marcus has to clean his room...?” Marcus’s mom said. She looked around. “Sam?”

Marcus’s bedroom door opened to reveal his mom. She looked rather worried.
“Sam wasn’t outside,” she said. Marcus looked out the window.
“I guess he left,” he said. “Did I tell you he can walk through walls?” His mom looked partially relieved, but still somewhat worried.
“Marc, you’re too old to have imaginary friends anymore,” she said.
“But...”
“Clean your room, now! It’s a mess!”
“He’s not imaginary,” Marcus mumbled as his mom shut his door. “He’s just impatient. That’s all.” He flung a T-shirt into his hamper.
“I’m not impatient,” Sam said as he walked through Marcus’s closed door. “Let’s get this room cleaned. Then we can work on your homework.” Marcus grimaced.
“You’re worse than a parent,” he said.

Sept. 9 Sam and I have been working on flying for about a week now. I think I can almost fly. I’ve been getting lighter each session. We are going to try to fly off a building today. I can’t wait! Sam says I should be able to do it. Sam is my only friend so far. Sam’s going to my school today.

“Bye, Mom and Dad!” Marcus called to his parents as he went out the door. As he stepped outside he saw Sam waiting for him. Marcus grinned. “Alright, then,” he said. He and Sam walked on the sidewalk to school. He went past the retaining wall and came to the door of the school.
“Are you sure your teachers won’t mind me?” Sam asked Marcus.
“Positive,” Marcus said. “The other kids do it all the time, and the teachers don’t even comment. I’ll ask if it makes you feel better.”
“Okay...” Sam said, not entirely convinced it would be all right. The walked into a classroom.
“Sir? Would it be alright if my friend participated in my classes today?” Marcus asked his teacher.
“Hmm? Sure,” the teacher said. Marcus grinned.
“See?” Marcus said. He smirked. “The teachers don’t worry about much here,” Marcus said as he walked to his seat. As he walked by the other peoples seats, the students in them gave
Marcus confused looks. Sam eyed them all wearily.
“They can’t see me, Marcus,” he whispered. Marcus raised an eyebrow at Sam.
“Sure they can, they just don’t recognize you. Stop worrying, Okay?” Sam looked tired as Marcus finished this statement. Marcus and Sam took a seat.

Marcus looked down. And down. And down.
“Your sure I’m ready?” Marcus asked rather uncertainly.
“Of course I’m sure you’re ready!” Sam said. “I’ve been working with you for a week now. You’ve got to be ready. If you can’t, then I’m a very incapable teacher. But I’m not, so you will fly.”
“Why did I even doubt you?” Marcus said. “I trust you, Sam. I feel ready, it was just a fleeting doubt. Okay then. I’m ready!”
“Find your happy thought. On the count of three: one, two, three!” Marcus and Sam jumped...
Marcus’s mom looked around. She could have sworn she heard Marcus. Then she looked up. What was Marcus doing up there?...! He jumped off! She dropped the groceries she was holding and ran to where she saw Marcus jump. She heard a sickening thud.
“Marcus, no!” she screamed as she saw him lying on the ground in a heap. She ran to his side and collapsed next to his body. She tenderly lifted his head and cradled it in her arms. Tears were flowing down her face. Marcus groaned.
“Mom?” Marcus said feebly.
“Marcus, honey, it’s me,” his mom said. “Oh, honey, I thought you were dead!” she said as she drew Marcus into a hug. “What am I thinking? You need to go to a hospital!” she said. She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and dialed 911. Ringing, then an answer. “My son just jumped off a building,” she said hurriedly. “I need an ambulance.”
“Where are you, ma’am?” the person on the phone said.
“82nd street, twenty feet from the intersection. Near the gas station.”
“Thank you ma’am. An ambulance will be there shortly.”

Sam walked through the door to where Marcus was in the emergency room, in traction.
“You were wrong,” Marcus groaned. “I couldn’t fly.”
“You just need more work, that’s all,” Sam said. “You were close, almost there! I just know it!”
“No more buildings,” Marcus said through gasps of pain. “Not yet, at least.”
“Yeah. I’m really sorry, Marcus. I was so sure that you could that I didn’t notice the danger signs, one of which being you doubting that you can. When you can really fly, you know it. You become so sure that you can do it, that you’re practically flying before you jump. I’m sorry, Marcus, I should have called it off.” Sam dropped
his head. “I should be in there, not you.”
Marcus groaned.
“It’s okay, Sam. Just don’t let me jump next time if you have even the slightest doubt, if even for one millisecond you wonder if I can actually do it.”
“Right,” Sam said, brightening up a little. “Well, I’ll go now. Bye!” Sam walked out the door. Marcus’s mom and dad entered the room.
“How are you feeling, son?” his dad said.
“Not great, but okay...”

Dec. 25 Christmas is here! I finally got out of the hospital. That doctor was sure my ribs were still broken, even though the X-ray showed them all healed up. Well, I’m back, and happy to be here! Look out, world, here I come!

“Wow, Mom! A sweater! Thanks! Go on, Mom, open your present!” Marcus said on Christmas morning. His mom was staring at the present from Marcus in her lap.
“I can’t help but think that you could be dead now, Marc. Thank goodness you’re still here,” his mom said as she wiped a tear from her eye.
“Oh, come on, Mom, none of that please. Just open your present.”
“Okay, dear... Oh! It’s a family photo!” His mom drew him into a tight hug.
“Would be all right if I hung out with Sam after breakfast?” Marcus asked. His parents looked at each other. “What?”
“Marc, we would like to spend today together as family, please?” his father pleaded.
“But... but... Okay,” Marcus said. His parents sighed with relief.
“I figured we could go out for breakfast,” his mom said. “Maybe Denny’s, or something.”
“Sounds great, honey, let’s do it,” his dad replied.

Jan. 7 Well, school’s back in session now. My flying lessons will also continue with Sam. I can’t wait until I can really fly! That will be soooo cool!

“Now, concentrate on that thought. Good! Good!” Sam said. Marcus couldn’t feel the ground any more with his feet. “Come back down now!” Sam’s voice seemed distant and quiet. He felt the sudden jolt go through his feet that meant he was back on ground. “That was great! I definitely think you’re ready now.” Sam grinned at Marcus.
“I know I’m ready,” Marcus replied. “Let’s go to that building, again.” Marcus grabbed Sam’s hand and concentrated really hard. He flew Sam and himself to the top of that familiar building.

“One, two, three! Good luck!” Sam shouted as Marcus fell away from him. That ground was getting a bit too close for comfort, when he felt a sudden jolt run through his body as he flew upward. He saw Sam’s face go past his, but for some reason, he was still looking down. Marcus saw the shining points of the buildings as they went past him. He saw the beautiful sunset. Why do I keep going up? he wondered. He felt another jolt run through his body.
He looked down to see a medic with a defibrillator over his body.

Marcus opened his eyes. He saw his parents faces swimming into focus over his own. “Mom? Dad?” he tried to say, but all that came out was: “Mu... de...”
“Shhh, honey. Don’t talk.” his mom said. Several minutes later when Marcus had recovered, his dad said: “Marc, what possessed you to jump off that building? Again?!”
“Sam said I could fly. I believed him.” Marcus said. His parents looked at each other with sadness in their eyes.
“Marcus, Sam isn’t real. He never was. He never will be,” his mother said.
“He is real! He’s my only friend.” Marcus yelled. “The only one I’ve ever had,” Marcus whispered. “I did fly, mom, dad. I saw the sunset, I saw the tops of buildings. I know I flew. I felt it. No matter what you tell me, I know I flew!”

Marcus sat in a padded white room in a straight jacket. He was rocking back and forth. Marcus stopped rocking and looked up to the door. Sam was standing in front of it.
“Long time, no see,” Marcus said through gritted teeth. “They say you’re not real. I don’t believe them. I see you for my self: you are real.”
“Yeah, about that. You’re not crazy,” Sam said.
“Huh?” said Marcus.
“I’m only allowed to show myself to one person. I thought I could teach you how to fly. I was wrong. I’ll leave you now. I’ve already caused you enough pain as it is. Good-bye, friend.” Sam turned around and walked out the door.
“Good-bye... and thanks for being my friend.” Marcus said quietly.

Feb. 14 I finally got out of the insane asylum just in time for Valentine’s Day at school. I miss Sam. I kind of wish he would come back.

Marcus was sitting at a lunch table alone, quickly eating his lunch so he could get to a class room and wait for class to start again.
“Well, I like him, even if he was at a mental clinic,” a girl was saying to another girl. The first girl had dirty blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. She marched over to Marcus’s table and sat on the other side from him. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Samantha,
but you can call me Sam.” She smiled at him. Marcus grinned then looked up at Samantha, or Sam.
“I used to have a friend named Sam,” he said to her. He paused. “Do you like drawing? I can draw a pretty good dog.”