Some days the pain became so unbearable that it was hard to breath. It became to hard to roll out of bed and face the world. No matter how many times he reminded himself that he was safe, that no one was going to hurt him anymore, it didn't change the fact that they were all dead, everyone he had ever loved was gone and nothing would ever change that and no amount of crying and begging was going to bring them back. The good days were becoming more frequent as the weeks went by but the bad days were always there, clawing at the back of his mind, itching to break through whenever he got too comfortable with his new life.

Christian ran a shaky hand over the golden cross hidden beneath his grey sweater. The cold metal distracting him from the crowd of people bustling through the halls. Every once in a while someone would brush up against him, his hands curled into fists at the feeling. He felt trapped, backed into a corner with nowhere to go. He just had to get through one more class, one more class and he can go back to his foster parents and hide in his room until he is forced out to eat something. Just one more class and he'll be ok.

He let out a shaky breath trying to calm his already erratic nerves. "You're ok, you're ok," he mumbled to himself. Christian pulled his biology textbook from his locker and held it tightly to his chest as if it could shield him away from everyone and everything. He slowly made his way towards his last class of the day, even though there was still twenty minutes left before the bell rang. Getting to class early helped to ease his nerves slightly, he liked to watch everyone walk in so he knew who everyone was and where they were sitting. It gave him a sense of calm to his already crazy world.

Just as he entered the classroom his phone vibrated in his back pocket. A text from his foster mum, letting him know she was working late and to stop by on the way home. Christian sighed as he slumped into his usual seat at the back right hand corner of the classroom. His teacher; Mr Simmons was already present, grading tests at the front of the class. It was an understanding they had quickly come to. Mr Simmons understands his anxiety and allows him this time to breath without interruption on his behalf. Hes always kept a close eye on Christian and for that his is thankful.

As the day drew to an end Christian found himself still waiting silently in his Foster mums office, twirling around in the swivel chair he conveniently pushed into the corner of the office, out of prying eyes from the rest of the staff in the building. He sighed to himself for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. Melisa was stuck in a meeting and had been for the better part of afternoon, he could only imagine that she was just as annoyed as he was if not more.

He continued to spin around in the chair until his vision swam and he felt sick to the stomach. His head lolled back against the chair. He closed his eyes taking in all of the sensations around him, the cold flush of the air conditioner, the heat streaming through the floor to ceiling windows behind the desk, the bits and pieces of conversations floating in from the crowded hall. If he closed his eyes long enough it almost reminded him of him, back in Romania with his parents and baby sister. He misses everything about Băla, the markets, the familiar faces, even the married couple next door who used to scream at each other all night. Christian misses every part of it and to him that will never change.

His hand instinctively reached for his cross, rubbing his fingers across the smooth surface. He was so lost in thought that he almost missed Melisa enter her office had she not slammed the office door. It was another thing Melisa had to learn when Christian came to live with her. She needed to make sure she announced herself somehow when entering a room as not to frighten him, she was quick to learn this after his first day in the house. She had tiptoed into the living room after seeing him asleep on the sofa, in a panic he had nearly thrown a knife at her before realizing who was standing in front of him.

She is a family lawyer which was how she came across Christian in the first place. She was dealing with a case against an abusive father and a drug addict mother. The child was in foster care until other arraignments could be made. The first time she had seen him he was sitting in a tree in the front yard of the Orphanage reading an English dictionary. He had captivated her heart.

"How was school?" she asked, a soft smile appearing on her fraying features. Christian shrugged his shoulders lazily "Ok, I guess," he mumbled. He retracted his hand from his necklace letting it fall back into his lap. "I got my history paper back today,"
"oh really, how did you do?"
"I got an A+," he shrugged.

Melisa's face brightened with joy. She sat down gingerly in the seat opposite Christian, clasping her hands in her lap, as to keep them within his line of sight. "I'm so proud of you," she gushed "that's awesome." Christian shrugged in response, his face remained neutral even as a surge of warmth spread through his chest. "What did Mrs. Anderson have to say about it?"
"She...says my English is better," he mumbled, he looked down at his hands, twisting the sleeves of his sweater between his fingers, "and my accounts of the war in Romania's perspective was...very r-riveting."

Melisa's smile faltered for a second but she smoothed her features out quickly. For a reason that has never been apart to Christian Melisa and his history teacher Mrs. Anderson have never gotten along, the tension is always so apparent when they are in the same room together. "Well that was nice of her,"
"I guess."

A comfortable silence settled over them for a moment before Melisa stood from her chair. She walked the short distance towards Christian. "Why don't we head home, we can stop at that little place down the street you like to celebrate this grade of yours."

Saturday morning brought with it another long therapy session, leaving him tired and on edge. In an attempt to calm his nerves Christian resigned himself to sitting on the bench beneath the office building his foster mum works at. He didn't want to take the elevator up only to be stuck in a stuffy office listening to obnoxious lawyers complaining in the hallway. The streets surrounding the office complex was busy but not so much so that he felt threatened by their presence.

He relaxed further into the bench, pulling his legs onto the bench to sit cross legged. His backpack lay forgotten underneath the bench. He rubbed his fingers absentmindedly against his left wrist. It was a habit he had picked up from his last foster sister, she had a habit of rubbing her wrist when she thought no one was looking. She was a friend to him, a good friend. Christian was devastated when he was dropped back to the orphanage, his things thrown from the car like he meant nothing to them, nothing at all. He spent six months with that family, they reminded him so much of home and he loved it.

The bench creaked under the weight of someone new. Christian peeked out of the corner of his eyes to get a better look at the stranger. It was a girl, not much older then he. Her long brown hair was pulled into a pony tail beneath her brown baseball cap. She dressed simply in black jeans, a blue tank top and a brown jacket. Her phone was pressed securely against her ear but neither it nor she made any sound. He raised an eyebrow at the strange behavior, clenching his hands into fists in his lap.

Christian watched her from the corner of his eye for what felt like hours. She sat still the entire time, staring off across the road at something he couldn't see. He tucked a stray piece of his black hair behind his heavily pierced ear, his fingers lingering over one of the silver bars.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. She startled almost like she hadn't known he was there. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small smart phone.

From Melisa
I've just gotten out of court. I'm 20 minutes away from the office, did you want to go out for lunch?

From Christian

That would be ok. I'm sitting outside of the office.

From Melisa
Alright, I'll see you soon.

He pocketed the phone, bringing his hands back to rest comfortably in his lap. He could feel her eyes on him, watching him. Panic began to rise in his chest. He toyed with the sleeves of his sweater in an attempt to calm his nerves. When that had no effect he reached for his cross, running his fingers across the smooth surface. It lay against his chest, hidden beneath his sweater. Only the golden chain could be seen lying around his neck. She turned away just as his panic was reaching it's peak. The busy streets no longer felt peaceful, it ignited his anxiety, pushing it to a whole other level.

A loud explosion rang through the streets. The ground beneath them shook viciously, throwing people to the ground in terror. Screams rang out around him. Christian grabbed a hold of the ailing on the bench, his knuckles turning white under the pressure.

A high rise building not to far from where they sat had been bombed, the top floors were on fire while large pieces of debris fell from the building, landing with such a tremendous bang that it shook the very ground. Christian watched in horror as floods of people ran for their lives, panic etched across their features. Children screamed and wailed all around. Some were picked up by people they did not know and carried from the blast sight.

A hand gripped his shoulder. Christians grey orbs met the hazel ones of the strange girl who sat beside him. "Are you alright?" she asked. To stunned to answer he simply nodded his head. His eyes trailed back to the site of the explosion. There were still hundreds of people running down the street, some had blood running down their faces and bodies.

Christian startled when he noticed the girl had taken off running towards the site of the explosion. Her baseball cap had fallen off and now lay forgotten in the middle of the street. "Ce naiba?" -what the hell?- he mumbled. She was going to get herself killed, what was she thinking?

He ran after her, praying that someone was watching over them and would help them. He scooped up her baseball cap as he raced passed, holding it tightly in his shaking hands. Christian could just make her out through the crowd a few feet ahead of him. She stopped near the base of the building. There were others there as well, men and woman. They seemed to be trying to evacuate the area.

Another explosion sounded from his right. This explosion was from somewhere on the street, it ruptured the side of a high rise building. The explosion hit many passersby, flinging them around like rag dolls, most did not get back up, they lay there in a bloodied heap, men, woman and children. Christian had to look away before he started to remember his own childhood.

The tower toppled down, smashing into the buildings surrounding the dust began to clear Christian noticed a small figure standing in the middle of the street. She looked no older then five. She stood clutching a stuffed bear, wailing loudly. The side of her head was caked with blood but it didn't look to be her own. The concrete pillar behind her groaned, it began to lean forward into the power lines. They snapped, sparks hissing out of the severed wires as it hurtled towards her.

Christian found himself racing towards her. His heart beating wildly in his chest. He reached his arms out to encircle her small body, pulling her close to his chest as he skid across the ground. His knees took the brunt of the force a burning pain racking up his legs. He could hear the screams of those on the street, yelling for them to move but there wasn't time to get back up and run.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his body tingled, his skin pulsing with a blue tinge. A bright light encircled them both, the noise from the street faded into nothingness. He kept her close to his chest, his hands coming to rest on the back on her head.

There was another burst of blue light back of the street. Christian skidded along the ground, his right arm and leg scrapping across the cement. He hissed in pain as his cloths were torn and stained in blood. He pulled her from the ground, placing his hands on her shoulders gently, "are you alright?" she nodded slowly, her eyes wide with wonder. He smiled timidly "I need you to listen to me very carefully, ok?" she nodded again "you see that police man, right over there?" he pointed down the street to where an officer was directing people to a safe destination. "I need you to run over to him. Do not stop until you reach him, understood?" again she nodded, "Good,now go, do not stop."

Christian removed his hands from her shoulders, he watched her wobble towards the officer, her teddy still clutched securely in her arms. When he was sure that she wouldn't turn around and run off somewhere else he turned back. Several other buildings had crumbled while he had been between spaces. Christian raked his shaky hands through his black locks.

He jogged down the street, he scanned over every surface and every crevasse, looking for someone, something that might indicate life.

He heard the screams before he saw anything. He turned down the street to his right. They were still there, the ones he had seen the brown haired girl with. They looked to be fighting, throwing things and yelling. Christian could just make out the girl, her hands were glowing red. She moved like she was dancing her hands swaying in front of her it was almost hypnotizing.

The ruins of the building behind her was still crumbling around the edges. His feet picked up speed as he raced towards her. She didn't seem to notice the crumbling building behind her. Christian knew he wasn't going to make it on foot so he jumped. A burst of power shot through him, it sent tingles from the tips of his fingers to ends of his toes. A blue light enveloped him and in the blink of an eye he appeared right in front of her. His body collide with hers and in that split second, that split second that it took to draw in a strangled breath, the light had taken a hold of them shooting them out further down the street.

Christian turned them around so he took the brunt of the fall, he landed on his back against a bile of debris. He cried out as they landed, his back colliding hard with the pile of cement and steal rods. The adrenaline in his veins took away most of the pain but not all. He rolled over, shifting his weight so that she could lay beside him. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking down at her bewildered face. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he spat.