Day 1: (Explanation: these people build dreams for a woman)
“What the hell is the appliance closet doing on the twelfth floor now?!” Candice stuck her head in the room and glanced around. “Cooper, go get the damn blender!”
“Do we really need it?” Cooper, who was in the middle of hanging a Yield sign, asked.
“YES. How else is the teacher going to explain how to do trigonometry without a blender?”
Instead of the busy street surrounded by high rise buildings there was green. Miles and miles of green as far as she could see. Behind her, the Empire State Building rose into the sky, feeling impossibly high in this empty space.
“I don’t think I’m in New York anymore,” she whispered to herself.
“No, you are definitely in Kansas.”
Day 3: (In the ultimate meta-ing of this already meta thing, the boys are creating a character for a Buffy the Vampire Slayer role-playing game. Also, Justin's an artist)
S: Yes! Make me an artist.
J: *writes it down* That means you get...wow, okay, if they say so. An extra point in two of your mental attributes. Plus one in your art skill, obviously. Hey, you're going to have to be sensitive and emotional, so you lose a point in willpower when your emotions could rule or you lose your temper.
S: *grins at him*
Day 4: Done with my soup and bored of the monologue that was never ending, I took my soup bowl and smashed it against the priest who was speaking, which caused the bowl to break into pieces and the priest’s tone to become erratic. I picked through the wreckage of the bowl for the sharpest piece of pottery. This piece I jabbed into the priest until he stopped making noises.
The only time they ever cared about me and what I was doing was when I was sitting in somebody’s chair and I’d changed the TV channel after they’d gotten up to get a glass of Pepsi or something else from the kitchen.
"Relax. Under all of these school uniforms and the shaky veneer of being good little Catholic boys, we’re all juvenile delinquent geniuses at St. Adelbert’s. You wouldn’t have been admitted if you weren’t."
“Yeah, Dummy. You hear what she said? ‘I don’t want to be forgotten.’ That’s death for us. Problem is, I sure as heck ain’t gonna forget her. Don’t think you would either. You gonna forget the memory you killed? The memory that came from the person who died to save our girl? You can erase her, but she’s still gonna be here as part of us."
“Assemble your crew on the mess decks for awards and pizza, Captain.” Rodriquez’s grin turned wicked. “I’d have brought ice cream, too, but the base seems to be out of the shit, so you’ll have to settle for Pizza Hut.”
Day 8: (Start of a new story, first one was apparently a novelette)
“It’s nice to have a travel partner. Everyone should have someone to travel with,” he said.
Not if the whole purpose of your traveling is to get the hell away from everything, including the dad he reminded me of. I had to get off this thing today. There was no way in hell I was going to sleep as long as he was there. I’d wanted to go another day or two before I found a place to settle, but necessity is the mother of changing your fucking plans.
A tiny lightning bug glowed from the branch above my head. It was a soft burst of light that frightened me, because I feared its light would make me visible to the people who hunted me, but then the lightning bug fluttered from its perch and joined a thousand others like itself. They hovered like ghosts, these flickering candles of the night.
K: You are an angel. *Pushes J's hair out of his face*
J: Don't. I'm not.
K: I think you are. Maybe an avenging angel. Taking out Harrison, Sawyer's dad, even your own abuser when I asked you to protect my mom from him. I haven't forgotten.