Secret Meanings
The way that she moved. No, that was too simple of a word. Taylor stalked through the halls. Every step held a predatory energy to it. Her weight shifted from foot to foot in a way that made you think her ancestors had been jungle cats. Her hips swayed not in an effort to draw looks, but to keep balanced. She stepped on the balls of her feet, always prepared for the attack that never came. When those perfectly measured steps rang out against the linoleum flooring, everyone knew to stay away. Her steps screamed out her fighting instincts, as did her choice of clothes. Every day her dress was simple, clothing just tight enough so they were hard to get a grip on, but loose enough that she could move with ease. Taylor’s shoes rarely had laces, since those could easily be turned against the wearer and her medium length hair was kept neatly back in a braid or a pony tail. That way, there was nothing for her opponent to grab on to. A girl born in the wrong century, her teachers called her, but Taylor was pretty sure this one fitted her just fine. At least in these times she could learn from teachers across the world without ever leaving her room. She had a teacher in Hong Kong, one in Japan, and another in California, not to mention the one down the street where she spent most of her afterschool time. Taylor’s computer was outfitted with the latest and best in webcams and video cards. After winning her first few karate competitions and earning a good deal of money to go towards her college fund, her parents were more than happy to invest in some good equipment for her.
As long as she kept her grades up, Taylor was allowed to continue her lessons, but unfortunately for Taylor, today was the overnight astronomy field trip. That meant getting up early in the morning, when it was still dark. Always over alert, the silence in her still sleeping neighborhood was almost painful to Taylor’s ears. It pressed down on her like water, seeming to distort and muffle her world. Taylor began to worry that if the silence was so loud, how would she hear an attack coming? With each step over lawn’s and bushes, a sound like a gunshot pierced through the silence. Taylor could hear each crystal of water break apart and shatter like glass. Taylor’s parents used to be nervous about her walking anywhere alone, but Taylor had shown she could take care of herself. Taylor mentally prepared herself as she walked. She would be spending hours on a bus with kids she had nothing in common with, trying to pretend that they were not avoiding her and trying to remind herself that that was how she wanted it. It was better, safer, this way. Everyone had been buzzing about it for weeks now, planning what snacks to bring and who would sleep in whose tent. The agreement had been that everyone would abandon their tents and sleep on the ground outside. They would be able to see the stars that way, and not have to take in the stale, sticky air inside the nylon tents. As long as it was not raining, at least. The students all filed out of the school and onto the bus, everyone stuffing their backpacks in the back of the bus since all seemed to have packed for a week instead of a weekend. Except Taylor. Her Spartan luggage fit comfortably in front of her on the ground. Having been camping many times before, she knew exactly what she needed and what she did not. Two separate pairs of pajamas? Why would you even waste space packing pajamas? The pair of shorts you’ll be wearing for the next day should work just fine. Then you don’t have to go through the awkwardness of changing in a tent with someone you don’t really know, not to mention the boys trying to sneak peeks from outside. Her toiletries were limited as well, since they would not be showering there. They would swim both of the two days they spent out, and no showers would be available. This had sent off a flurry of complaints from the cheerleaders. Taylor had only laughed under her breath and plugged into her iPod, just like she was doing now.
No one was sitting next to her now, not for any lack of space, but more out of a respect for her space that no one breached. It was like a protective bubble that you only broke when you either had a death wish or really needed to ask her something. She hit anyone, or even yelled, but there were rumors of what she did outside of school.
The ride to their camp grounds, a national park, was about six hours long. They would be stopping every few hours for bathroom breaks. This would, of course, make the whole thing longer and more uncomfortable. Already they had stopped twice and were now traveling through dense forest on an abandoned side road, headed for yet another pit stop an hour or so away. According to the bus driver, this was a short cut to the main road a few miles away. She could hear his drawling to the a teacher up front. “C’mon, I know this place like the back a my hand. Jus relax. Been here plenty a times.” The country twang prodded at Taylor’s subconscious, making her shiver without really understanding why. The teen turned up her music and tried to drown out all the talking around her. Still, judging from the backcountry accent the man had, Taylor doubted he knew much of anything, much less the roads around. Without that GPS device sitting up front, they would all probably be in a neighboring country.
Taylor’s head bobbed to “Burn it Up” by Offspring on her iPod. Loud, angry songs were the only kind she ever listened to now. A few months ago Taylor had read some article on the affects fast paced music can have on your heart rate. She figured that if her heart is beating faster, then her reflexes will probably work better to. Taylor was completely lost in her own thoughts when she felt the bus jerk to the side. Though it was not really alarming since the bus had been jerking and bumping ever since they started this “short cut.” Taylor did not start to even pay attention until the bus came to a sudden and jarring halt, launching Taylor forward into the supposedly padded seat back in front of her. The sticky vinyl covering slapped against her face as she instinctively turned her head so her nose did not break. Groans and cries filled her ears as students righted themselves. A few unlucky kids had been standing up in the aisle, talking to friends. They were now piled up on the floor of the bus, trying to untangle themselves from one another.
An adult voice rose above the noise. “Is everyone okay?” Their teacher, Mr. Anderson called, “Nothing broken? Please, if you can, I need to you file off the bus and sit outside.” Slowly, people started to clamber off of the bus, helping their friends after them. Only Taylor seemed to require no assistance as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lightly hopped down from the bus. Taylor squinted as the rising sun hit her eyes at an uncomfortable angle. Probably about five o’clock, if her guess was right. Granted, she could always look at her watch, but where was the fun in that? Taylor had come to rely on her instincts first, technology second. After all, technology could break.
Taylor looked at the kids around her, all of them nervous and all of them afraid. Taylor could not help but shiver slightly. The day had been just like this when It had happened. It with a capital “I”, a memory that would never fade from her mind. The car had broken down then, just like now, with smoke that smelled just like the stuff coming from the bus, but at the time it had been a blessing rather than a curse. On that day, early that morning, she had been taken from her bus stop by a man she did not know. The one time her parents did not walk her to her stop, and they still regretted it. Taylor had insisted that she was a big girl, at the time, officially ten years old. Her birthday present should be to walk to the bus stop by herself like an adult. Reluctantly, her parents had agreed. Taylor had worn her hair down. At the time, it was a long red mess of curls with a purple barrette in it meant to keep hair out of her face. With the brilliant bright color, and the sheen it had in the sunlight, her hair might as well have been a beacon straight to her. It always drew attention in, and that was something Taylor had thrived off of. She had even managed to convince her parents to let her act, just for the attention. It turned out that she was pretty good at it when she put her mind to it. In fact, next week was the première of the movie she was in. The part was small, but it still said her name in the credits and she was the only child with a real role in the movie, not just some nameless Girl #2. Her parents said that the next part of her gift would be flying back to Hollywood for the première, but today was just a normal school day. That morning, she was the only one at her stop. The only other person assigned to that stop, Mathew Gabels, had just broken his leg and was headed to the emergency room. Of course, Taylor did not know this; she just thought her best friend was late. The bus too, was running late, but it was Taylor’s birthday and nothing could wipe the smile from her face. She was filled to the brim with pride at standing at the bus stop alone.
Then that beat up dusty blue truck showed up and everything changed. Taylor knew about not accepting candy from strangers, about how sometimes they’ll trick you into looking for their puppy or some other nonsense, but she figured she was too smart for that. She would be able to sniff out that kind of trick a mile away. She never thought the man would simply reach out and pull her into the truck. Taylor had tried to slip out of her backpack, but he had her arm. She started to wriggle out of her jacket, but he had her hair. She screamed and yelled for help, but his hand was over her mouth. Then she was inside and they were driving away.
A loud scream brought her back to the broken bus. Immediately her eyes were locked on a movement in the trees nearby. “It’s a bear!” One girl screamed, everyone else soon became hysterical. “It’s a puma!” Ridiculous, she thought, pumas aren’t normally this south in the state. “It’s a viper!” Honestly, Taylor was surprised her classmates even knew about that kind of snake, but it was still doubtful that such a snake would be around here. After a weekend spent wandering in the woods, Taylor had thrown herself into learning what to eat and what animals to avoid. She had to be prepared if anything happened again. In the woods, she had just done her best to guess what to eat, wary of anything too colorful or spiky. Animals were of course avoided at all cost, but sometimes they were hard to completely navigate around. The whole time she had been listening hopefully for the sounds of a highway, or some human beyond that man’s shouting that was now permanently playing in the background of her thoughts. The timing of the car breaking down couldn’t have been better. After a pit stop, the man had said they were driving again.
“Again?” Taylor had pleaded with him not to make her go back in the truck, but he grabbed her with those octopus arms and buckled her into the seat. After a few hours of driving they had traded the metropolitan landscapes for meadows and forests. Taylor tried to look for state signs, for some idea of where they were, but they were driving too fast. Words became white blurs on green backgrounds as they passed by. Now the man’s hand was getting uncomfortably close to Taylor, no matter how much she tried to move away. The man turned off of the highway, soon turning onto a side road. Then, as if someone above was looking out for her, the truck hit a pothole and took a nosedive. Taylor jerked forward in her seat, the seatbelt just barely holding her in place. She smelled smoke mixing with the smell of soil in the air.
The man unbuckled himself and started to climb out of the car. Not even bothering to check if Taylor was okay, he growled, “Stay inside.” Stay where she was? No way. Ever since their last pit stop, Taylor had been planning how to escape, if no other opportunity presented itself. Luckily for her, nature and poor road maintenance had come along and solved her problems. Taylor watched the man carefully and waited until she saw his head disappear under the hood of the car. Moving as fast as she could, Taylor grabbed her backpack and took off running. She headed for the trees about twenty yards away, using the wheat that seemed to grow like grass around here to hide her. The man had heard her door open and her hurried footsteps over the road, but he stood up too quickly and was momentarily dazed as his head smacked into the hood of the car.
Taylor remembered every word the man yelled at her as she ran. His southern twang rang out like a bell as he cursed her and ordered her to get back. She remembered the crunch of fall leaves underfoot that sounded like gunshots to her adrenaline, overly aware brain. The hormone surged through her veins like a drug, urging her to keep running, telling her to ignore the burning in her legs, the ache in her lungs, telling her not to stop until the trees blocked out the light and sounds from the outside world. Only then, could she rest.
“Everyone, just calm down, stay by the bus and a backup bus will be by to pick us up in about an hour.” The teacher’s voice rang through like the voice of reason, splitting through Taylor’s thoughts and trying to calm everyone down. It had varying effects, but everyone heeded his words and scooted towards the bus. Taylor, lost between a world of thought and reality had to be guided to the bus since she did not seem to be moving on her own. As she sank down to a sitting position against one of the wheels of the bus, Taylor crossed her legs and tried to extend her hearing as far as she could. No deep voice with a southern accent ordered her to come back, only younger and higher voices swirled around her. There was no burning in her lungs now, only chill of a fall night. She could feel eyes on her, like people were trying to penetrate the steel bubble that surrounded her. They were staring at her because she was meditating, right? They always did. She had to admit that she looked strange with her legs crossed and her back as ridged as metal, but normally she was able to blend in even when doing this. Deciding she should find out what she had done, Taylor opened her eyes.
A light fall breeze passed Taylor, toying with her ponytail, bringing with it the finality of winter, but still smelling of the flowers of summer. Sun beat down on her, warming her face and melting the night’s frost from the leaves and grass. For a moment, life seemed to slow down and dissolve, until there was only one thing Taylor could focus on. Before her stood a boy with dark brown hair. It was long and shaggy, and served as a shade for his eyes, but when he tilted his head just right, Taylor caught a glimpse of piercing blue. The icy frost seemed to melt through the steel around her. He held in front of her a hand. He offered her no drugs to make her happier, no checks in exchange for rights to her story, no claims that he could make her problems go away. He simply offered her a hand. And for the first time in a very long while, Taylor accepted it.
Whatever You Do Don't Accept
With the darkness to cloak us, we stole out into the night. Our last year together and we had to make it count. For years now we had been planning to do this, but every sleepover or every late night party that was centered on this had been canceled. Something always came up and postponed the night’s festivities for another month or year. The chill of the coming winter leeched us of any heat despite our layers of clothing. We had not planned it for tonight, but we decided it was now or never. I had to make sure my parents were asleep before we all filed out of the basement. The deadbolt has never sounded as loud as when I flipped it behind me. The streetlight at the end of my driveway flickered for a moment before resuming its normal steady glow.
“That can’t be a good sign,” Sarah said with a nervous laugh. This was the closest she had ever come to breaking the rules and it was taking her over like a drug. I could see that heady feeling that I had gotten the first time I had slipped out of my silent house, though mine had been an innocent trip to lay in my yard and watch the stars since I couldn’t get to sleep.
My focus shifted back to Sarah as I grinned and pointed to the sky. “Neither is a red moon.” The night could not have been better. It was a full moon with the craters painted a blood red. Somewhere nearby a dog barked, making everyone jump for a second. I could tell everyone was debating whether or not to just head back inside, but I couldn’t let that happen. I had to push us past the point of no return. Swallowing any fears I had, I clipped my keys onto my belt loop and trudged off down the street. I could still feel energy buzzing through the air like a battery that had somehow charged from all the excitement and sugar that went with the night. Behind me, five pairs of footsteps followed, looking towards me for reassurance. I was just as nervous and excited as they were, but I fought not to let it show. I was the oldest here and I had to show it. Flashing a grin behind me, I made sure they were all following.
Only Zoe returned my grin fully, the rest bore nervousness in every line of their face. What if he showed up? What would we do? Or if the cops came, what would our story be? Most of us had legal curfews binding us to houses this late and none of our parents knew where we were. Still, it would be worth it to say we finally did it.
There were footsteps too loud and heavy to belong to any of the girls I was with. We all froze in fear, slowly turning around to face the owner of the footfalls. I think the sigh of relief we let out when we saw it was just Tanner was enough carbon dioxide to deplete the entire ozone layer. He had a goofy grin on his face and a flashlight in his hand. “What, scared already? We haven’t even gotten to the fun stuff,” he taunted. I could have hit him right then and there for teasing us, but I knew we all felt better just having a larger male around. Instead, I settled on sticking my tongue out.
“Tanner, you scared the crap out of me!” Sarah’s voice was reduced to a hissing whisper.
He let out a too loud laugh that seemed to boom in the silent night. “Yeah, but just tapping your shoulder in the hall can do that.” Sarah started to fake pout as we all took a seat on the sidewalk.
“Okay, Tanner, go over the legend one more time. Are you sure there is nothing special we have to do?” There had been several phone calls between him and me confirming this already, but you could never be too sure. I think we were all praying that someone actually showed up, just so we didn’t have to try again.
“Just to be at the first crossroads south of a graveyard at the ‘witching’ hour. You said it was one o’clock, right? Not two?” I nodded. Technically it was ‘thirteen’ o’clock, a made up time, but that was supposed to translate into one o’clock.
“How long are we going to wait here?” Amanda was already shivering as she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “It’s hellas cold out here.”
“Just until someone shows up and offers us something.”
Rachel sat with her finger on the flashlight, looking ready to turn it on the moment she heard a noise. Though I’d warned them not to even bother bringing them, she had insisted. “And if no one shows up?” Every rustle of the wind brought a shiver to her.
“We’ll wait about half an hour, then we’ll leave. If whoever shows up offers something, remember, don’t accept.”
“I really don’t think the devil would be interested in a bunch of theater kids’ souls. Besides, we handed them over to theater.” We all grinned slightly at the old joke; that our lives belonged to the theater.
Melting Frost
The way that she moved. No, that was too simple of a word. Taylor stalked through the halls. Every step held a predatory energy to it. Her weight shifted from foot to foot in a way that made you think her ancestors had been jungle cats. Her hips swayed not in an effort to draw looks, but to keep balanced. She stepped on the balls of her feet, always prepared for the attack that never came. When those perfectly measured steps rang out against the linoleum flooring, everyone knew to stay away. Her steps screamed out her fighting instincts, as did her choice of clothes. Every day her dress was simple, clothing just tight enough so they were hard to get a grip on, but loose enough that she could move with ease. Taylor’s shoes rarely had laces, since those could easily be turned against the wearer and her medium length hair was kept neatly back in a braid or a pony tail. That way, there was nothing for her opponent to grab on to. A girl born in the wrong century, her teachers called her, but Taylor was pretty sure this one fitted her just fine. At least in these times she could learn from teachers across the world without ever leaving her room. She had a teacher in Hong Kong, one in Japan, and another in California, not to mention the one down the street where she spent most of her afterschool time. Taylor’s computer was outfitted with the latest and best in webcams and video cards. After winning her first few karate competitions and earning a good deal of money to go towards her college fund, her parents were more than happy to invest in some good equipment for her.
As long as she kept her grades up, Taylor was allowed to continue her lessons, but unfortunately for Taylor, today was the overnight astronomy field trip. That meant getting up early in the morning, when it was still dark. Always over alert, the silence in her still sleeping neighborhood was almost painful to Taylor’s ears. It pressed down on her like water, seeming to distort and muffle her world. Taylor began to worry that if the silence was so loud, how would she hear an attack coming? With each step over lawn’s and bushes, a sound like a gunshot pierced through the silence. Taylor could hear each crystal of water break apart and shatter like glass. Taylor’s parents used to be nervous about her walking anywhere alone, but Taylor had shown she could take care of herself. Taylor mentally prepared herself as she walked. She would be spending hours on a bus with kids she had nothing in common with, trying to pretend that they were not avoiding her and trying to remind herself that that was how she wanted it. It was better, safer, this way. Everyone had been buzzing about it for weeks now, planning what snacks to bring and who would sleep in whose tent. The agreement had been that everyone would abandon their tents and sleep on the ground outside. They would be able to see the stars that way, and not have to take in the stale, sticky air inside the nylon tents. As long as it was not raining, at least. The students all filed out of the school and onto the bus, everyone stuffing their backpacks in the back of the bus since all seemed to have packed for a week instead of a weekend. Except Taylor. Her Spartan luggage fit comfortably in front of her on the ground. Having been camping many times before, she knew exactly what she needed and what she did not. Two separate pairs of pajamas? Why would you even waste space packing pajamas? The pair of shorts you’ll be wearing for the next day should work just fine. Then you don’t have to go through the awkwardness of changing in a tent with someone you don’t really know, not to mention the boys trying to sneak peeks from outside. Her toiletries were limited as well, since they would not be showering there. They would swim both of the two days they spent out, and no showers would be available. This had sent off a flurry of complaints from the cheerleaders. Taylor had only laughed under her breath and plugged into her iPod, just like she was doing now.
No one was sitting next to her now, not for any lack of space, but more out of a respect for her space that no one breached. It was like a protective bubble that you only broke when you either had a death wish or really needed to ask her something. She hit anyone, or even yelled, but there were rumors of what she did outside of school.
The ride to their camp grounds, a national park, was about six hours long. They would be stopping every few hours for bathroom breaks. This would, of course, make the whole thing longer and more uncomfortable. Already they had stopped twice and were now traveling through dense forest on an abandoned side road, headed for yet another pit stop an hour or so away. According to the bus driver, this was a short cut to the main road a few miles away. She could hear his drawling to the a teacher up front. “C’mon, I know this place like the back a my hand. Jus relax. Been here plenty a times.” The country twang prodded at Taylor’s subconscious, making her shiver without really understanding why. The teen turned up her music and tried to drown out all the talking around her. Still, judging from the backcountry accent the man had, Taylor doubted he knew much of anything, much less the roads around. Without that GPS device sitting up front, they would all probably be in a neighboring country.
Taylor’s head bobbed to “Burn it Up” by Offspring on her iPod. Loud, angry songs were the only kind she ever listened to now. A few months ago Taylor had read some article on the affects fast paced music can have on your heart rate. She figured that if her heart is beating faster, then her reflexes will probably work better to. Taylor was completely lost in her own thoughts when she felt the bus jerk to the side. Though it was not really alarming since the bus had been jerking and bumping ever since they started this “short cut.” Taylor did not start to even pay attention until the bus came to a sudden and jarring halt, launching Taylor forward into the supposedly padded seat back in front of her. The sticky vinyl covering slapped against her face as she instinctively turned her head so her nose did not break. Groans and cries filled her ears as students righted themselves. A few unlucky kids had been standing up in the aisle, talking to friends. They were now piled up on the floor of the bus, trying to untangle themselves from one another.
An adult voice rose above the noise. “Is everyone okay?” Their teacher, Mr. Anderson called, “Nothing broken? Please, if you can, I need to you file off the bus and sit outside.” Slowly, people started to clamber off of the bus, helping their friends after them. Only Taylor seemed to require no assistance as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lightly hopped down from the bus. Taylor squinted as the rising sun hit her eyes at an uncomfortable angle. Probably about five o’clock, if her guess was right. Granted, she could always look at her watch, but where was the fun in that? Taylor had come to rely on her instincts first, technology second. After all, technology could break.
Taylor looked at the kids around her, all of them nervous and all of them afraid. Taylor could not help but shiver slightly. The day had been just like this when It had happened. It with a capital “I”, a memory that would never fade from her mind. The car had broken down then, just like now, with smoke that smelled just like the stuff coming from the bus, but at the time it had been a blessing rather than a curse. On that day, early that morning, she had been taken from her bus stop by a man she did not know. The one time her parents did not walk her to her stop, and they still regretted it. Taylor had insisted that she was a big girl, at the time, officially ten years old. Her birthday present should be to walk to the bus stop by herself like an adult. Reluctantly, her parents had agreed. Taylor had worn her hair down. At the time, it was a long red mess of curls with a purple barrette in it meant to keep hair out of her face. With the brilliant bright color, and the sheen it had in the sunlight, her hair might as well have been a beacon straight to her. It always drew attention in, and that was something Taylor had thrived off of. She had even managed to convince her parents to let her act, just for the attention. It turned out that she was pretty good at it when she put her mind to it. In fact, next week was the première of the movie she was in. The part was small, but it still said her name in the credits and she was the only child with a real role in the movie, not just some nameless Girl #2. Her parents said that the next part of her gift would be flying back to Hollywood for the première, but today was just a normal school day. That morning, she was the only one at her stop. The only other person assigned to that stop, Mathew Gabels, had just broken his leg and was headed to the emergency room. Of course, Taylor did not know this; she just thought her best friend was late. The bus too, was running late, but it was Taylor’s birthday and nothing could wipe the smile from her face. She was filled to the brim with pride at standing at the bus stop alone.
Then that beat up dusty blue truck showed up and everything changed. Taylor knew about not accepting candy from strangers, about how sometimes they’ll trick you into looking for their puppy or some other nonsense, but she figured she was too smart for that. She would be able to sniff out that kind of trick a mile away. She never thought the man would simply reach out and pull her into the truck. Taylor had tried to slip out of her backpack, but he had her arm. She started to wriggle out of her jacket, but he had her hair. She screamed and yelled for help, but his hand was over her mouth. Then she was inside and they were driving away.
A loud scream brought her back to the broken bus. Immediately her eyes were locked on a movement in the trees nearby. “It’s a bear!” One girl screamed, everyone else soon became hysterical. “It’s a puma!” Ridiculous, she thought, pumas aren’t normally this south in the state. “It’s a viper!” Honestly, Taylor was surprised her classmates even knew about that kind of snake, but it was still doubtful that such a snake would be around here. After a weekend spent wandering in the woods, Taylor had thrown herself into learning what to eat and what animals to avoid. She had to be prepared if anything happened again. In the woods, she had just done her best to guess what to eat, wary of anything too colorful or spiky. Animals were of course avoided at all cost, but sometimes they were hard to completely navigate around. The whole time she had been listening hopefully for the sounds of a highway, or some human beyond that man’s shouting that was now permanently playing in the background of her thoughts. The timing of the car breaking down couldn’t have been better. After a pit stop, the man had said they were driving again.
“Again?” Taylor had pleaded with him not to make her go back in the truck, but he grabbed her with those octopus arms and buckled her into the seat. After a few hours of driving they had traded the metropolitan landscapes for meadows and forests. Taylor tried to look for state signs, for some idea of where they were, but they were driving too fast. Words became white blurs on green backgrounds as they passed by. Now the man’s hand was getting uncomfortably close to Taylor, no matter how much she tried to move away. The man turned off of the highway, soon turning onto a side road. Then, as if someone above was looking out for her, the truck hit a pothole and took a nosedive. Taylor jerked forward in her seat, the seatbelt just barely holding her in place. She smelled smoke mixing with the smell of soil in the air.
The man unbuckled himself and started to climb out of the car. Not even bothering to check if Taylor was okay, he growled, “Stay inside.” Stay where she was? No way. Ever since their last pit stop, Taylor had been planning how to escape, if no other opportunity presented itself. Luckily for her, nature and poor road maintenance had come along and solved her problems. Taylor watched the man carefully and waited until she saw his head disappear under the hood of the car. Moving as fast as she could, Taylor grabbed her backpack and took off running. She headed for the trees about twenty yards away, using the wheat that seemed to grow like grass around here to hide her. The man had heard her door open and her hurried footsteps over the road, but he stood up too quickly and was momentarily dazed as his head smacked into the hood of the car.
Taylor remembered every word the man yelled at her as she ran. His southern twang rang out like a bell as he cursed her and ordered her to get back. She remembered the crunch of fall leaves underfoot that sounded like gunshots to her adrenaline, overly aware brain. The hormone surged through her veins like a drug, urging her to keep running, telling her to ignore the burning in her legs, the ache in her lungs, telling her not to stop until the trees blocked out the light and sounds from the outside world. Only then, could she rest.
“Everyone, just calm down, stay by the bus and a backup bus will be by to pick us up in about an hour.” The teacher’s voice rang through like the voice of reason, splitting through Taylor’s thoughts and trying to calm everyone down. It had varying effects, but everyone heeded his words and scooted towards the bus. Taylor, lost between a world of thought and reality had to be guided to the bus since she did not seem to be moving on her own. As she sank down to a sitting position against one of the wheels of the bus, Taylor crossed her legs and tried to extend her hearing as far as she could. No deep voice with a southern accent ordered her to come back, only younger and higher voices swirled around her. There was no burning in her lungs now, only chill of a fall night. She could feel eyes on her, like people were trying to penetrate the steel bubble that surrounded her. They were staring at her because she was meditating, right? They always did. She had to admit that she looked strange with her legs crossed and her back as ridged as metal, but normally she was able to blend in even when doing this. Deciding she should find out what she had done, Taylor opened her eyes.
A light fall breeze passed Taylor, toying with her ponytail, bringing with it the finality of winter, but still smelling of the flowers of summer. Sun beat down on her, warming her face and melting the night’s frost from the leaves and grass. For a moment, life seemed to slow down and dissolve, until there was only one thing Taylor could focus on. Before her stood a boy with dark brown hair. It was long and shaggy, and served as a shade for his eyes, but when he tilted his head just right, Taylor caught a glimpse of piercing blue. The icy frost seemed to melt through the steel around her. He held in front of her a hand. He offered her no drugs to make her happier, no checks in exchange for rights to her story, no claims that he could make her problems go away. He simply offered her a hand. And for the first time in a very long while, Taylor accepted it.