Chapter Four

On the Monday we worked together song writing. As we worked it became even more of a collaboration. We thought as one, me now being able to write the music score. We went back to the ones we had written already for guitar and piano and wrote out the scores for the rest of the band. I could hear the tunes in my mind, played by the five of us.

Negative emotions, I was trying to hide you all my life.
Pretending you don't exist which caused pain that could sting like a rusty, big knife.
Pain deep inside that I denied to let myself feel
What was the appeal? Which way did I feel?
Seeming happy on the outside that's what seemed important

But it was just an illusion, it was just for show
So people wouldn't know
How I really feel inside
But that is something I cannot hide
No matter how hard I tried
It hit me in the face
Where was the right place?

Somi knew when he could no longer fulfil his duties he would be euthanised. His unguarded saw had bitten him thrice over the years, but not badly enough for him to have been euthanised. The last time had cost him a finger, but since he had carried on working nothing had been said by his supervisor and he’d been allowed to live.

When he came to the conclusion that something powerful was preventing him from seeing himself he lost heart and tried to stop dreaming. Yet the dreams kept coming during the day, especially the dreams of the young women. It was in despair that he realised sooner or later they would distract him from his work and would cost him a hand and that would be his end.

Well behind schedule, the column reached the city of Kodor early in the morning, with frost still on the grass. The dead city looked far different than it had when Keir had last visited it over three hundred years ago.

Eighteen-year-old Nicholas Hammerstein is at the cusp of finishing high school in his hometown of Los Alamos, NM. He has a seemingly ideal life and is blessed with loving parents, a cute baby sister, and great friends. Nicholas is a gifted student and martial artist who has dreams of leaving for college at the end of his senior year. But, living in a world of Emergent humans, he will soon find his life turned upside down as his life and the fate of a kingdom hang in the balance. His future and theirs will be determined by how he navigates the drastic changes in his body and the magical and superpowered Mergent population he joins.

Eighteen-year-old Nicholas Hammerstein is at the cusp of finishing high school in his hometown of Los Alamos, NM. He has a seemingly ideal life and is blessed with loving parents, a cute baby sister, and great friends. Nicholas is a gifted student and martial artist who has dreams of leaving for college at the end of his senior year. But, living in a world of Emergent humans, he will soon find his life turned upside down as his life and the fate of a kingdom hang in the balance. His future and theirs will be determined by how he navigates the drastic changes in his body and the magical and superpowered Mergent population he joins.

The next morning, Ruth came to Rachel's dorm to oversee Maddie and Hattie pack their things. The twins would be sent to Pretty And Pink's Virginia building, which happened to be the company's first establishment. The whole time Maddie and Hattie were packing, they cast dirty looks in Rachel's direction.

"I hope you're happy, bitch," Maddie said to Rachel. "Now we're getting yanked out of our lives here."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to get yanked out of my old life, either," Rachel said coldly.

"Where did you live, in another orphanage?" Hattie asked.

I took a deep breath as I peered out the car window. The sight that greeted me was nothing but flat, rolling fields that seemed to stretch far beyond the horizon. The Mississippi Delta was flat as a board. As I released my drawn in breath I shifted my eyes toward the woman seated beside me. Her name was Lavender Stoner and she was less than thrilled to have me along for the ride. I could say the same for her. Sitting next to her was like sitting next to a junkyard dog.

Francis Holcomb, known as Fran, carefully walked into his sick mother’s bedroom carrying a bowl of steaming soup broth. She had been extremely ill for several months, and was now terminal. Twelve-year-old Fran had taken care of her mostly single-handedly to the best of his ability, but the outlook was very bleak.

“Fran, honey, I don’t think I can get it down,” she said, weakly.

“Pleeeease, mom? I don’t want you to die,” said Fran.