I hate flying. I get shaky and nauseous just thinking about getting on a plane. Flying is not something humans were meant to do.

"The chance of you dying on a single flight is one in a billion!"

"You're more likely to die in a vending machine accident than a place crash!"

I wish people would stop giving me statistics they got off of LOLFacts . com

Downstairs, I can hear my adoptive sister, Jennifer, arguing with her boyfriend. I'm trying not to listen, to keep my concentration on what I'm going to need for the next couple of months.

Okay, I've got my toothbrush, toothpaste. Books, my computer... do I have the charger? I should should make sure I have that, too.

"What are you talking about?! I have never once cheated on you! You're the one who always flirting with other guys!"

"Christy told me you were out with Jake and Gavin and that she saw you three hitting on a bunch of college skanks!"

Ugh, Faryn, stop listening to them arguing. None of it is your business, just get to packing. Nothing they're saying interests you, but I was lying to myself. I was very interested in what they were saying. Jennifer has been acting so weird lately, so distant and irritable. Secretive. I hear tidbits about what's going on in her life from rumours and gossip that circle around in our high school. I get too into it, everyone's personal lives. It's a gross habit I desperately want to break.

Though I do wish Jennifer would talk to me about what's going on. Her parents are always bringing their problems down on their kids⎯⎯⎯ down on us. No, she isn't my biological sister, but I have known her since I was nine, that's seven years. Even if we were never that close, I am still legally her brother and I do care for her⎯⎯⎯ the little eight-year-old who wanted to be a scientist and a ballerina. But over the past couple of years, everyone in the Bennet family seems to be falling into a dark spiral of self-destruction.

My "parents", Perry and Karlina, had a more straight-laced way of parenting than I was used to. They believed the husband should go to work and the wife should stay at home. That the kids should alway go by the text book and get straight A's in school, never questioning their teachers, even when they were obviously wrong. When I first moved in with them, when they adopted me, it was hard to get used to their lifestyles. They seemed like all-around nice people, with a nice house in a nice neighbourhood, but they weren't anything like me or my parents, who thought that working in an office is absolute torture and children should be treated with respect and equality, which they would give you back in return.

I remember the first time I went to kindergarden and my teacher, Ms. Clark, told us to colour in pictures of woodland and farm animals "like in real life." She handed us each a white sheet of paper with a cartoony illustration of an animal. I got a horse. While all the kids started to argue about who got to use what colour Crayola first, I looked at my horse drawing and felt completely patronized. The I remembered something my Mum told me, after a day of catching frogs and other creatures in a pond near my old house. She told me about "kelpies," legends in Celtic folklore. They appeared as black horses, but with smooth, slick skin like a seal, but deathly cold to the touch. I proceeded to carefully colour in the horse illustration black, with a dark green mane with blue lines through it to make it look like it was dripping wet. I grabbed a pen and tried my 5-year-old best to redraw the hooves so they were backwards, as described in the legend. I added some extra swamp weeds around it's whole body, all the way to it's tail, which I had coloured in to look serpent-like. With some added water pooling underneath the kelpie and a greenish, brown background, I was finished. I was proud of my colouring and my cleverness and was eager to show Ms. Clark my hard work.

All the kids excitedly got up from their seats and lined up in front of Ms. Clark, who gave them all a compliment on their work.

"Sarah, this is a beautiful bear! I love that you coloured him white! And the cute little igloo in the background!" She grabbed the sheet from the little girl hands and set it gingerly on the others she had collected.

It was my turn to show my teacher. I was shy, so I slinked up in front of her, holding the paper close to my chest.

Ms. Clark wasn't a very tall woman, only about five-foot-two, but in my five-year-old perception, she may have been a hundred feet tall. I looked up at her, she looked down at my, smiling. "And what did you colour, Faryn?" I pulled the picture away and looked at it before handing it upwards to Ms. Clark. She took once glance and frowned. "What…what is this?"

"I-it's a kelpie," I squeaked, shuffling my feet. "It's a water horse, they transform into beautiful girls and lure men to their deaths in swamps."

She gave my a puzzled look, then got on her knees and held my hand. "Sweetheart, I think you may have forgotten what they assignment was," she smiled at me, but this time it wasn't so kind. "I asked you to colour in the horse like you'd see on a farm. Have you ever seen a horse before? Maybe sometime I could take the class on a field trip to a ranch and then you could see what they look like."

She stood up and gave the picture back to me, "These things, Faryn, the kelpies, are not real. And quite frankly, I am glad. What kind of person goes around telling a little child about something so horrid?" She laughed to herself and proceeded to hang up the "acceptably" drawings on the wall behind her desk.

I crumpled up the drawing in my hands, my eyes starting to water and my face feeling hot. "They are real."

When I got home from school that day, I ran into our house and jumped into my Mum's arms, crying and huffing.

"Faryn, what's the matter? Did something happen at school?" She held me close to her chest and stroked my hair from my face. She smelled like lavender and honey, I felt safe in her arms. She looked down at me and smiled, not like Ms. Clark's smile, which was fake, but a smile that was filled with love. She wiped the tears off my cheek with her shirt sleeve.

I took a couple of breaths in and let it out in one, long sigh. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the kelpie picture. One look and my Mum's eyes lit up, "Sweetheart! This is beautiful! Why did you crumple it up?"

"Ms. Clark didn't like it. She said I did it wrong and then put up all the other kid's pictures on the way but she didn't put mine up…"

"Oh, liebling, that is awful. Why? Why was it wrong?" She set the picture carefully on the table beside her and hugged me tightly.

"She said colour in the horse, but I didn't want to do it like everyone else, and then I remembered when you told me about the kelpies and I wanted to draw that. But when I showed Ms. Clark, she said I was wrong because they aren't real. But we saw them, mummy, in Ireland. You, me, and daddy saw them. We did, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did. But some people… some people don't know how to think about kelpies, or fairies, or anything like that. They don't want to believe because they are scared. They think it's foolish nonsense," she cupped my face in her hands and looked at me, her hazel sparkling. "Faryn, you did nothing wrong. Not at all, it was Ms. Clark who was wrong, okay?"

I nodded and repeated, "Okay." She kissed my forehead and told me she'd fix everything.

The next day, my mum came with me to school. She paraded into the building like she owned the place, I scuttled behind her, gripping onto her shirt hem. She opened the door to my class room and walked towards Ms. Clark, who smiled that fake, gross smile and got up from her seat.

"Mrs. Culley! What a pleasant but unexpected surprise, what can I help you with?" Ms. Clark flashed me a look, then went back to her forced friendliness towards my mum.

My mum's five-foot-ten frame towered over Ms. Clark. She crossed her arms against her chest and stuck out her hip. I knew what was coming, I hid behind my mother's leg.

"It was brought to my attention that you are teaching your students that creativity it something to be ashamed of. That they will get in trouble if the go out of the way to make something different. What kind of teacher are you?"

Ms. Clark cleared her throat and pulled her collar away from her neck, obviously uncomfortable with the situation. "Mrs. Culley, Faryn is a bright, patient boy, but he completely missed the point of the assignment, which was to colour in the sheets realistically, and⎯⎯⎯"

"Assignment!? This is kindergarden for crying out loud! Give'em some playdough and some books, give them a garden to tend to. Don't be telling them that they are wrong because they want to do something their way creatively."

Ms. Clark sunk back into her chair, rubbing her temple. Defeated. "What do you want, Mrs. Culley?"

My mother rested her hands on Ms. Clark's desk and looked her dead in the eye. My face was red from the attention that she was bringing. "I want Faryn's picture up there with all the others."

Ms. Clark slammed her fist down on her desk, opened up a drawer, and pulled out a roll of tape. She motioned me to hand her the picture. I looked down at it, the kelpie's stupid smile staring back at me. I looked up at my mother, then to my ex-teacher. "Actually, I don't think I want it up there anymore. If it's not going to be appreciated by you, then whose going to? I worked hard, Ms. Clark. I made sure I didn't go out of the lines, and look! I barely didn't!" I held the paper up to my mum to see. "Yes, I know sweetheart." She rested her hand on my head.

"I think it looks good, even if I didn't do it right. So I think I'd rather have it on our fridge. Yeah, can we do that?" I looked up at my mother again, she was beaming at me. She reached down and hoisted me up onto her hip.

"That does it then. Thank you, Ms. Clark, but I don't think we'll be coming back for the rest of the year," my mum turned around and walked out the room. Ms. Clark's mouth was agape. I stared back and loosely waved Goody-Bye to her.

The thought of my mother made goosebumps rise up on my skin. I could still smell her perfume if I tried hard enough, along with the warmth of her skin. But my recollection was interrupted by Jennifer's yelling getting gradually louder. Thank God Perry and Karlina weren't home.

It's happening. Tonight. You're going. Tonight. You will find them. My stomach flipped flopped, my breathing picked up. This flight was getting me worked up.

"What time is it?" I pulled my phone from my back pocket and pressed the home button. 7:30 pm. Should get going soon.

I reached into my pocket and pulled a baggy filled with a couple blue pills. I felt bad about stealing the Xanax from Karlina, but I couldn't do this without them. I made sure I had enough and then shoved them back into my pocket.

I doubled checked all my bags. Again and again. I made sure I had the tickets and the documents I needed. Again and again. I made sure I had my money. Again and again. I made sure this is what I wanted to do. I only had to check that once.

Everything. Everything was ready to go. There was nothing else for me to pack. Nothing left to do. Everything important to me was in my suitcases. Pictures mostly, luckily they didn't take up too much room. I slumped down onto my bed. That fucking bed. Cold and hard.

I wondered how long it would take the Bennet's to realize I was gone. A couple hours? A day? A week? I should've felt sorry for leaving, but everyone had their heads so far up their asses, it wasn't hard to leave.

I thought about the flight again. Ran through what I had to do when I got there. Check in. Luggage check. Customs. Then wait. I hated waiting, though I was good at it.

I had only two flights. The longest would be this one, from Vancouver to Toronto. I'm going to have to wait a couple hours at the airport in Toronto, seven to be exact. I'll probably sleep most of that time. No way am I sleeping on the plane. Maybe I'll get a bite to eat. You don't get much on a four hour flight. Maybe some cookies or something. Yeah, I'll eat and sleep and read. They have internet there, too. I can do that. Hopefully I can make it to LaGuardia before they notice I'm gone. Maybe they'll call and ask why I left. I won't give them a real answer. I can't let them know why. They won't believe me, who would? Perry didn't buy into any conspiracy about those Grimm girls' parents either, so why would he think anything about mine? I guess I do owe him a Thank You, I mean, if he hadn't have tried to turn me into a "real man" then I never would've heard of them. I guess I should actually thank his brother in New York for telling him about the red handprint on their car. That handprint. The exact ones they found on my parent's dead body. Dead… seven years and that word still rings surreal in my ear. I wonder how they took it? The girls. The youngest was only six when it happened. Jesus, six-years-old, I can't even imagine. How old would she be now? That was five years ago so, seven…nine… wow, eleven-years-old, and her sister. My age? Sixteen? Wow.

I heard Jennifer's bedroom door slam shut. It was time. I got up from my bed and grabbed my computer bag, made sure everything I needed was in it one last time. Check. I grabbed the two suitcases and rolled them towards the door.

One last goodbye. I closed my eyes and took a long breath in. This IS it. I gripped onto the door handle and slowly pushed it open, trying not to making any noise. I poked my head around the corner, when I had made sure the coast was clear, I carefully rolled the suitcases out and shut the door quietly behind me. I knew every squeaky floor board in the house, but it's hard to be stealthy when lugging behind extra weight. I did my best to lift the suitcases up and down the stairs, until the handle on the biggest one broke and fell down the last three steps. I flinched and was expecting to see Jennifer bolt out of her room and see me with all the luggage.

I was caught, but not by who I was expecting.

"Ryan?" Jennifer's boyfriend jumped around the corner from the living room. He looked just as confused as I was.

"Faryn?" He cocked his head curiously at me. Ryan wasn't the most attractive guy in our school. His nose was broken in two places, but it didn't make him look ruggish, just like a football player. It made sense, since he was the captain of the High School football team, but he was on the small side. He always looked so much bigger out on the field, I guess it was all the equipment. But he did have pretty eyes, bright blue. They were a nice contrast against his dark hair.

I shook myself out of my daydream and put my attention back to getting the hell out of here. I reached down and pulled out the handle from the suitcase and rolled it towards the front door.

"Where are you going? The airport?" Ryan laughed. I turned around and shot him a look.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you left already," I pulled out my phone from my back pocket and searched a taxi service number. I had forgotten to call one, FUCK! That puts me back half an hour…

"Well nice to see you too!" He laughed again, then folded his arms to his chest. I found myself admiring his biceps. They were nice. Stop, Faryn! Stop checking out your sister's boyfriend! You have better things to do! "How long are you going to be gone for? You know school starts in a couple days. Jenny didn't tell me you were leaving, where are you g⎯⎯⎯"

"Away! Just away… I just," I looked at him and noticed that his clear blue eyes were red and puffy. He had been crying.

"You didn't tell them, did you?" Ryan asked, stepping towards me, his arms now loose at his sides. He was taller than me, but it seemed like everyone was.

I shook my head and let out an audible "no."

"Oh," he looked down at his feet, running his hands through his hair. "I won't tell them, Faryn."

I smiled. I didn't know if he would keep his promise, but right now I didn't care. I just wanted to leave. "Thank you, Ryan."

He looked back up at me. Damn those eyes. "Do you need a ride?"

"Actually…" I glanced at my phone. 7:40. "A ride would be great." He smiled again and reached for the broken suitcase.

"C'mon!"

For the first ten minutes, we sat in awkward silence. Ryan was fixed to the road and I watched out the passenger's side window at the passing cars. This time tomorrow I'll be in FerryPort Landing. I let that fact set in.

"So um…" I turned my attention to Ryan, who had turned on the radio. A top 40's song was playing for what was probably the 15th time today. Just as it ended another started playing that sounded just like the last. "Where actually are you going?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Should I lie or tell him about my parents? The seatbelt was rubbing up against my neck. It was too hot in his car. I couldn't get on this plane. Nope. "New York."

"Woah, really?" He turned and smiled at me, but when he noticed I wasn't smiling back, he returned his gaze back to the road. "Why New York?"

"I have to find someone and ask them something. Something about my parents," my tongue seemed to be filling my whole mouth. I noticed a green road sign pointing which exit to get off to the airport. Was I choking? Maybe I shouldn't go.

"Didn't they die eight years ago?"

"Yeah, seven years ago," my head felt heavy. My eyes were dry. My clothes were too tight.

"Do… do you think they're still alive?" He turned to me, his eyes curious. Those beautiful blue eyes. Suddenly I wasn't choking anymore.

"No, they're dead. The police found their bodies. Their throats had been slit and they were stashed in some bushes near a park in Victoria, where I used to live." I tapped my hands against my thigh. I hated talking about how they died.

"Shit man, I'm sorry," he shook his head, repeating "I can't imagine" over to himself.

"It's actually something they found on their bodies I'm curious about," I looked out the window, remembering when the police had announced the found my parents dead. Absolute disbelief. "Blood red handprints on their chests. Apparently something similar was found on the car of another missing couple-I'm looking for their daughters in New York."

"How did you find out about them?"

I scratched my head. The second topic I hated talking about, my homophobic adoptive father. When I first moved in with Perry and Karlina I had no idea they felt so strongly against LGBT people, but it was made clear the first time I announced my huge crush on Magneto in the new X-Men movies. "When Perry found out I was… erm," I bit my lip. I didn't know if Ryan knew, but how could he not? Unless he was as clueless as my adoptive parents.

He was looking at me, eyebrows knitted together, head tilted. Adorable. "Gay?"

He knew. "Yeah. He thought, I dunno, if he took me to his job I'd… change?"

"Doesn't he do an office job for the police or something?"

I laughed. "Yeah, he does all of the paperwork and stuff. Though if he hadn't taken me that day, I wouldn't have found about the couple in New York."

"So did he just tell you everything about them?"

"No, he told me about the red prints and their names. I found out the rest after I broke into his filing cabinet and grabbed the documents."

He smiled at me, then licked his lips ever so slightly. "Well you're a sneaky one, aren't you?"

We shared a laugh. A new song came on the radio, I didn't recognize it, but Ryan seemed to and reached over to turn it up. "Oh! Wait, you're not Jenny…" he stopped himself. "She loves that fucking song. I hate it."

"I have my phone if you wanna…" I reached into my pocket and grabbed my phone, shaking it in front of his face.

"Yes! Please, in the dash," Ryan did a little dance in his seat and I chuckled, gripping the latch on the dash and pulling it open. It was pretty much empty except for some car stuff and the cord to plug in an iPod. I plugged into my headphone jack and searched through my music library.

Never thought I'd see her go away

She learned I loved her today

Never thought I'd see her cry

And I learned how to love her today

Never thought I'd rather die

Then try to keep her by my side

"Good song," Ryan said.

"Great song," I replied.

"Hey, won't you're leg go off going through security?" Ryan asked me as he unloaded my luggage from the trunk of his car.

"My prosthetic one?" I tapped on my right shin.

"Uh huh," he closed the trunk and stood beside me.

"Shit, I never thought of that…" I turned towards the airport doors. People filing in and out. Babies cried and sleepy children held onto their parents as they waited for their ride home.

"Just let them know before you go through. Relax, it'll be fine," he smiled. "Hey," he put his hands on my shoulders, standing at least seven inches taller than me. "Be good, okay?"

"No prom-" before I could finish, Ryan had kissed me. On the lips. He cupped my face in his hands and closed his eyes. Mine were wide open. After a moment he pulled away and said Goodbye before leaving.

I couldn't move. I was in shock. My first kiss ever and it felt! It felt… like nothing.

Disclaimer: song used in this chapter is "Love Burns" by Black Rebel Motorcycle club