Ch 13

We were perusing the herb shop; I had cleaned myself out. I knew what to get by now and loaded my basket. I knew that the herbs might not change the smell of my appetizing blood, but I was definitely going to keep up the regimen just in case. I had to hope for the best. With any luck I'd never have to find out. That nice old lady was helping someone else. I wanted to ask her a question about what to do for a cold. I felt one coming in my throat, and it was a bad time to get sick. Mr. Peters, effective but brutal as a professor, had given us an intense computer project that was due soon. Kris had some tea boxes near her while she gazed deeply at a book. "Positive Affirmations: Daily Affirmations for Attracting Health, Healing, & Happiness into Your Life." Undoubtedly that book was coming home with us.

We took turns reading it. I chose simple but powerful ones. 'I like myself and I love myself'. I wrote it down and put it on the bathroom mirror, said it outloud and recorded myself saying it so I could replay it in my own voice. With those combined it came from a visual and verbal outlet; hearing my voice say it was working at a subconscious level. The first ten times I heard myself, I flinched. But as I played the recording right before I slept, it slowly became more comfortable.

Kris followed suit with her choice of words but added her unique spin. I mean literally. She said "I am worthy and deserving of success. I am free" when spinning in circles, arms wide and fingers spread out. Once I moved a chair out of the way that she nearly slammed into. One particularly hard day she did this for a quarter of an hour after her mom called with bad news about her sister. I don't know the specifics, but I could feel they were close. I smiled and sighed as I drank tea. I loved my weird little piece of home with someone I've begun thinking of as my own sister; as my family.

Charlie called me. "Bella!"

"Who's Bella?" I thought to myself. I'm not her anymore.

"I miss you and I want to see you."

"I miss you too, dad. But I can't go back there... It reminds me too much of my worst moments. I'm doing a million times better out in New Mexico. I love it here actually." I heard him sigh. I must've looked exasperated because Kris, who was working on her paper and she mouthed 'are you okay?' I nodded.

"I'm really happy to hear that, but how else will I see you?"

"Unless you come here, I don't know."

"At least call more often? It's nice to hear your voice."

"Sure dad."

When he was off the phone I slammed it down on the wall a little hard. I guess I had some anger issues to work on myself. I stood up and looked at the clock, and realized that Josh was coming over for an ice cream date in an hour. Kris spoke for the first time in fifteen minutes. "We somehow both have weird family lives. At least yours is allowed to talk to you publicly," with a only slightly fake nonchalant casual tone. She had really begun to accept it; it was usually said with more emotion.

"Yeah it's true." I wasn't hurt by her statement. "I still feel slightly guilty about the whole thing. Since my parents divorced when I was a baby, I always lived with my mom before I went to live with him at age 17. He barely saw me more than a month a year, and then I refused to see him when I was about age 13. So he came to me and used all his vacation days." I clicked my tongue, sadness entering me.

I sat down and rested my head on my arms. "Then I moved there, got serious with Doogie right away and then ran away to college as soon as I could. Charlie has been shafted." The last statement was filled with downhearted levels of regret, which seeped into my voice. "I'm a bad daughter." OK, there is more guilt than slightly.

Kris abandoned her paper and sat next to me. "Hey," as she put a sisterly hand on my shoulder blades. She discovered I relax and calm down the fastest at that placement. "A huge portion of that was NOT your fault and out of your control."

"He still got the short end of the stick," I replied. My head was still rested on the table, on my arm for a cushion.

"It certainly seems true. But—"

"Not my fault, yeah I know..." I spoke resignedly. "I should apologize for what pain I did cause. He did not like Doogie." My voice normalized.

"I don't like him either."

I half-smiled. I used the energy I forgot I had to lift my head up. "That's because you know him post breakup. He has a talent for dazzling everyone. You should've seen the nasty looks I received in school when we were first official."

"He may have been good looking but from the incredibly immature behavior you've described, he's on my list of rich snobs to avoid forever."

"That's a long list." I quipped, feeling better. She threw me a mock glare but stuck her tongue out.

"Kris, thanks." I got up to get ready for my date at last, but turned at the last minute. An important thought had to spoken. "Hey, we both come from messed up families but I think of you as my family, a sister. I haven't felt alone since you got here." I didn't hear a reply so I turned to her fully. Her back was turned and she had paused. I heard a sniffle. I gently turned her around and her eyes were filled with tears. "K?"

"You really feel that way? She replied in an emotional whisper. I nodded.

"I undoubtedly and indubitably do." I expressed with seriousness, despite the word choices. She pulled me into a firm hug.

"You and your over the top words and dad jokes," she commented fondly, the hug still intact.

"Uh huh. Those only come out when I'm comfortable or really uncomfortable." She released the hug and wiped her eyes.

"We are both crying again," she softly chuckled. I was crying? I touched my eyes, those were tears. "I don't feel alone here, either. I wasn't sure how long I'd last on my own. Now I don't worry about it." She spoke, staring at the grey wall. My tears welled up more. We both laughed. Did laughter and tears always go together? "Come sister; you have a date with Prince Charming very soon and we need to get you ready for the ball."

"It's an ice cream date," I corrected but I followed her anyway.

"Close enough."

"Want some?" Josh offered his mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"No thanks, it would be a bad idea."

"Huh, how come?"

"I'd have a lovely allergic reaction that would require the use of my EpiPen." His eyes widened.

"Wow, that's not what I was expecting. Ok, nevermind. I definitely would've ordered something else. Is it the mint, or the chocolate?

"The chocolate, and please, I'm glad you got what you want. I don't get a reaction just from looking at it."

He chuckled before taking another bite. "Wouldn't that be terrible?"

"A see-food allergy, get it? see...food..." I continued before losing steam on my joke. I looked at him nervously. Did I make a mistake? Instead he looked at me endearingly. He breathed in as if deciding something and then made a move toward my hand.

We were walking from the library to his apartment. We have only had one additional date so far. It's been slow, more of a courting really. We had a lot of conversations, but holding hands was as far as we had progressed physically. I found I couldn't go an ounce faster, because this was all my heart was ready for right now. I was honestly surprised I could do that much. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind.

"You've been quiet today, are you doing alright?" he asked thoughtfully as he gently held my hand.

"Kind of... I had another 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' phone call with my dad." I'd explained the weirdness of the situation to him, scathing over the depression months. "I've been getting the feeling that my computer teacher doesn't like me. He's been grading me harsher lately, but I don't know what to do about either concern."

"Who could not like you?" he asked.

I scoffed but smiled, a blush forming.

Josh pov

We walked to the apartment. Josh looked at his whatever they were; not every relationship had a name. It was one that he cherished. He was keeping one thing from her and he would tell her soon; today. When he nearly told her on their first date, Josh had looked at her worried facial expression and her hand movements, and had chosen a softer approach. He had heard more than the sentence he mentioned to his sweet Marie.

Josh memory

He had stood there hidden in the shadow for a few minutes, enraptured by the conversation. He wasn't even consciously aware that his feet stopped.

"There was hardly anyone who overheard, I promise."

"Good," the blonde spoke out, the tears coming on strong. "Why did he gamble away my heart? How could I pin my hopes on someone so worthless?" She sobbed as Marie held on to the hug.

"You know, I was dumped by a serious boyfriend in the middle of the woods I wasn't familiar with, at night, away from a trail. When I wasn't looking, he ran off. I got hopelessly lost, physically and mentally."

"What? He left...what a jerk!"

Marie laughed. "That's the consensus."

She helped her up and took her heavy backpack for her. She had a water bottle in my bag and gave it to her. As she drank, Marie spoke somberly. "I know this part is hard, it sucks. There isn't any skipping it or avoiding it, and you'll be better by struggling through it. You find strength somewhere in the dark abyss."

"How long did it take you to recover?" she asked, calmer now after taking a few swallows of water.

"Months were spent in deep numbness, where I didn't get better at all. Running away mentally can cause serious damage. After that...it took a year."

"So recovering is possible." the blonde girl spoke out loud to herself.

"Yes. With good friends around you, activities, and time. It took me three months until I could even speak to another male." Marie laughed, shaking her head.

Suddenly I knew where I knew her from. I knew that shake of that head. She sat two rows ahead of me in class. She looked a little different then, sadder. Her clothes have changed but more noticeable was her countenance. It all made sense. Their conversation had kept going.

"Hey, I don't live far from here, You can borrow a shirt and I have a huge pan of lasagna in the fridge waiting to be eaten."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I've never been as sure in my life."

Josh had hoped to run into her again, but it didn't happen. Then when he saw Marie at the climbing gym, He knew that was his chance. Her eyes were as wide as saucers when he said the word "date" and she paled a little. Did he push too far too quick? He just had to ask while he had the courage. Josh didn't know when he'd see her again. When she revealed a 'yes' answer his heart burst with happiness. And then he saw her cute surprised look and grin at his dorkiness, and his heart skipped a beat; he was won over.

He would do anything to see that smile again. When she told her joke at the ice cream shop, Josh saw her beauty shine brighter by the natural moment. He was swayed to strengthen his resolve to let her know somehow how wonderful she was. When he held her hand, she was surprised and stayed silent for a few minutes. If he hadn't heard the discussion with the poor blonde girl before, he'd wonder what he did wrong. Since Josh was a lucky enough chap to know key information, albeit secretly, it helped him understand her much better. At times she was bashful, then carefree. That was a bashful moment.

She didn't let go of his hand until she threw away her cup and left the store. Then she gingerly, gently held her hand out for him. At this subtle, unspoken invitation, Josh took her hand a little too eagerly and pulled us both forward a few steps and nearly caused her to trip.

"Sorry!" His cheeks blushing.

"It's ok." She looked at him curiously before smiling widely. He didn't know the thoughts behind her mind, but they must have been enthralling. "I'm not used to being the smoother one," she said simply and kindly. He was learning over time each sentence spoken had at least ten thoughts behind it.

"That is something I am not. I once got in trouble for mixing up the word burger and booger in 4th grade, I told a friend they were eating my booger, not theirs."

Marie giggled. "Impressive, and they're surprisingly close wordage." She squeezed his hand.

He could've leapt off the chimney like Dick Van Dyke at that moment.

"Fantasy/supernatural or mystery books?" Josh asked. They were playing a game of twenty, this or that questions at Marie's apartment.

"Mystery. Hands down. Soccer or football?"

"Soccer, definitely. I have too many flashbacks of being tackled."

"Ouch."

"GroundHog Day or the Superman movie?" Josh asked.

"GroundHog Day, Superman is too perfect." He blinked at the chosen word emphasis.

"Calendar or day planner?" Marie's turn.

"Day planner. Cows or Horses?" Josh asked next.

That's when her roommate walked in and yelled "Horses!" He looked over at Marie and she nodded. "We rode some the other week," she said.

"Yes, and the cows scared her." Kris filled in. Marie put her hands to her head.

"Ugh, did you have to share that tidbit? I didn't expect a cow to be running full speed at me..." Marie groaned out, looking adorable.

He put my arm slowly around her shoulders as she scooted a little closer to me, much to my chagrin. Kris grinned mischievously and said something about being even before walking to the back room.

"Being even about what?" He asked, amused. Marie's blush disappeared, and she grinned but shook her head.

"It doesn't matter... um, I told her old boyfriend about something I didn't know was off-limits."

"Now I'm curious."

"No can do, mister. I just got out of debt."

At the library Marie was learning a coding language with five books around her. To Josh it looked like an elvish language with numbers. He couldn't comprehend how it could be understood. Marie and her roommate were both learning it at an impressive speed. He was perfectly happy with his Speech and Hearing science major, but he liked her ambitiousness. Although he did not know more than the bullet points about hard things in her past, he admired her for overcoming them. He was letting her control the pace of their relationship/friendship, and there was no need to do more than either were ready for. This was new for him, liking someone again. This was a breath of fresh air. He could breathe again.

Marie pov

Shelah and I were just finishing up at archery club. "Good job this week. Rach, good adjustment with your aim today. Have a good day everyone." I quickly packed up and picked up my bow. I wanted my own incredibly bad. For now I was using a rented one, but I put the bow I dreamed about on a vision board.

I looked at my watch, and I had to leave now to be on time for a study group. I'm not sure how it happened, but everything was happening this week. Every minute was filled. I really missed having free time.

I got on my bike that I picked up at a garage sale a few months ago, and rode it to the library for the study group. Grace was meeting me after. I hadn't seen her for months because she took a semester off. I had missed her, and was really excited to see her again.

"This is my sister Macie." Grace introduced her twin. They were indeed identical, besides a slight hair length difference you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. She looked happier; it appears the break did her good. Grace and Macie had been on a road trip.

"Wow, are you guys going to hit every national park?" Macie nodded.

"Zions, Bryce, and the Arches are coming up," Grace answered.

"They're all so close."

"That is impressive. Are you doing all the hikes?" I asked. I had no idea she was such a hiker.

"The popular ones, not common ones, and even some that require a permit, like Angels Landing."

I was impressed. "I didn't know some hikes needed those," my eyes taking in the information.

"Permits help so it's not too crowded since it's a narrow hike." I nodded in understanding.

"Well, good luck. Sounds like a blast. I never thought of doing anything like that before." It was on my mind now.

Hours later I was practically falling asleep at the library. I wiped my eyes and found a hidden bench in the corner. I needed a catnap or else I would get nothing else done today. That wasn't an option. Ignoring everyone who looked at me weird, I set an alarm on my watch for twenty minutes and shut my heavy eyelids.

When I woke up from a surprisingly deep sleep, I was startled to find Josh and Trevor sitting near. When I came to, the one I liked greeted me. I made room for Josh to sit. "Have a nice nap?" He asked.

"Yes I did. Josh, you know him?" Trevor was smirking quietly.

"Yes, you know him too?"

"Indeed, we had a class together." Oh, I didn't miss that face.

"Do you often nap in the middle of the library?" Trevor spoke in a snarky tone. I clenched my hands as I gathered up the books I would need next. Josh looked from me to him and gave a questioning look. I shook my head in answer.

"Only when it's necessary. Today it was." I forced a casual, civil tone. I turned to Josh who spoke.

"I didn't think I'd get to see you today, so this is a nice surprise." I smiled and nodded. He rubbed the back of my wrist.

"I concur. Unfortunately, I have a hundred things to do today."

"Yet you have time for napping." Trevor provoked as he straddled his legs and leaned forward. He was baiting me. He did this every time we worked on that website. I spread out my hands to cure a flare up of anger while Josh raised his eyebrows at his friend.

"Okay." I resignedly spoke. "Josh, I'll call you later. Have a good day." I got up and hugged him before I took my books and left. I heard a "Dude, what the heck?" from Josh. It was a nice feeling for someone to come to my defense, I thought, and I smiled to myself.'

I awoke, surprised to find Kris's bed empty. It was a rare moment when I wasn't up an hour before her. She was wide awake with three cups of coffee near her with the entire table with books and paper. "When did you get up?"

"I never went to bed. We just got assigned a huge project for psychology and I have to do it today if I'm going to finish in time with all my other assignments. Why do they all pummel you at the same time!?"

"It's a college conspiracy."

She must've been stressed since I got no reaction, negative or positive. I'm not really sure she even heard me.

"I think I'll take advantage of my messed up parentage and their off-their-rocker ideology. It would be interesting...don't you think?"

"Well—"

"And their professional self-denial..."

"That's—"

"Man, those people are stubborn."

"I'm going to dye my hair green." I looked at her eyes, one of them was twitching.

"They are so blind!"

"And get a belly button piercing." She was on one of her microscopic focuses. It only happened when she was keyed up and stressed to the max. Only now she was also caffeinated.

"Fathers' parents are even worse. They wouldn't know another way if it hit them in the head."

"And move to Iceland." I sighed while I headed to the bathroom. I'll check on her in a few hours.

The next day I was stress-baking chocolate fudge cookies for Kris. My 5k race was rapidly approaching. I was nervous, nay, excited! I was washing dishes when a paper obstructed my view. "Can you check it for grammar?"

"Sure...just let me..." I dried my hands as I spoke. I grabbed the waving paper. "Will you take the cookies out when the timer goes off?

Kris nodded while she sat on the couch and flaked through a book. The last time I edited a paper she stared at me, foot tapping. I snapped a little, and apologized after. I appreciated her efforts in not hovering, as unnatural as it is for her to be patient.

Kristina Waldon Paper 7

Expectations, perceptions, and reality are ever-wavering. Yet they make up the fabric of our existence and are perceived as "normal". It is a common theme in teenage movies to try to fit it, but what are they trying to fit into? Every generation of teenagers had their own definition of normal in clothing, wordage, pop culture, and appearance. 20 years later the next generation will adapt to the new mainstream and it's out with the old and in with the new. From the 1920's to the 1940's, the change in living normal standards had altered considerably.

Those we don't call normal, are called delusional or weird. Each generation had their own version of this standard practice. Not all of what is learned from is not correct nor should it be emulated. The sum of what is the norm of the culture, family tradition, and the belief system is often construed and dangerous. Dangerous to the psyche, the malleable subconscious of a growing child, and the standards in the family home. The expectations of what each of the children are required to adopt, has a chance of being healthy or binding and limited; regardless of what the children want. The phrase "nature vs nurture" is widespread and common for a reason. These children can fight the common practices and create a new life. That is what happened from the 20's to the 40's. One example is the Edwardian era.

As always, there are different levels of wealths in pockets in America. One wealthy pocket I grew up in, was a richer family, the 'blue bloods,' children born with a silver spoon in their mouth. As much money my family had, was equaled by the many rules, expectations, standards, and one sided way of living I should've followed, and followed in my parents' steps. The letter of the law was there and it was binding, constricting, and choking. I felt like I was dying inside. My will, opinions, dreams and ideas had no place in their norm. Even my appearance wasn't what they wished. I left and "rebelled" in their definition of the word. I had the opportunity to speak with my father, the disciplinarian and enforcer. I had evidence, fluent correct statements to my experience and yet I was "delusional" and they were in the right. Another idea is not good for whatever reason and they can't be convinced otherwise, no matter what the overwhelming evidence that is terrible and emotionally and mentally damaging. They will continue to hate my choices and avoid me like the plague. Much to my delight. I don't blame them completely, they learned these rules as a child. Denial is a coping mechanism and when it is long term it creates delusion. The hands can be covered in paint and will deny ever touching it to the ends of the earth. It can be as useful as talking to inanimate objects. Inanimate objects who are perpetually angry and egotistical.. Ego is a fascinating yet damaging and blinding thing. There are countless books and papers about it.

People often expect more of others than they can do themselves in order to fix the failures of their life while the child lives their own. In one way, this is encouraging. The parents who never went to college wish that for their child. In another, it is being 10 feet behind despite anything the child can achieve with failure not being an option. The children will never succeed in the efforts to please the parents, even if that's all they ever wanted. I had a sister who stayed despite the misery and did this. She was equally dying inside, but gave up her whole soul in this endeavour. She has been equally exiled but has ended up in rehab. We, the children, are still to blame. A consequence I have personally experienced and overcome is the low-self esteem and belief that I am a failure; indefinitely.

The beauty of life is that it's filled with choices. Much of the time children emulate the parents, which is why abuse goes from generation to generation. Why is this? No one wants to be abused. The other behavior is doing the very opposite in daily life and life as a parent. As many others, this is the route I have chosen. Once I slipped and reacted in the emotional turmoil and chains of reactions in others around me. Instead of being the 'victim' I was the instigator. I had passed my childhood on to someone else, in any effort to feel better. The look on my friend's face was one I wore as a child. I spent weeks in guilt, denial, and experienced several downward spirals. If life was like the movies, I would have had depressive music, a cloud over my head, and constant thunderstorms in the skies. I made a choice then and there and have not gone back. I would never do this again and I would be a force for good. I was in luck as my friend, who knew heartbreak and betrayal, chose to forgive me, against all her logical choices her life followed before. She was and is the best example of change and growth. I will be ever grateful for her and will spend the rest of my life being the best friend I could be and will be of service to those around me. I will learn forgiveness. There are still wounds to heal; I have a long list. I know I can do it. I've seen another heal, what seemed to be unhealable damage. If she can do it, so can I. I choose not to be the product of my parents. They have the innate ability to find personal offense in about anything. If I had anything in my life that brought me joy that was not because of them, they took personal offense.

Reframing the story is a skill that has been invaluable to me. We create what we want. In our thoughts that turn to words, which turn into actions and then into results. I even went as far as reframing my past stories, instead of only seeing the pain and hurt, I will see from a new lens and perception. I will learn the lessons, take them to heart, and one day become a motivational speaker. I write down new stories, how well I do in class, so that I will have successful relationships, a healthy future marriage, and beyond. It applies to anything. I choose to change my habits and be careful of my thoughts, words, and actions. People can change if they wish to. It's the beautiful thing about constantly learning. Potential is a beautiful word. I have the potential to cure my anger and to be filled with patience instead.

I had to tear my eyes from the paper. I was in tears and never had been filled with such warmth. I was an example? I didn't know. I got some water and tried to clear my mind. I made the changes to the first few pages and kept on reading. It had changed tones and topics. She had gone on about her sister's journey from the same situation.

Suicide attempts are unfortunately a common method of escaping abusive, messy, stuck lives. Discouragement is hard. Our subconscious can work with people or against. It will take evidence of whatever rules, childhood, beliefs are in there. Dictatorships try to squash hope, belief of freedom, and choices. They succeed at times and others times not. My sister was in a dictatorship, an abusive, controlling marriage that fought her mind and thoughts through all the traps, lies, and deceit. The husband could not fathom this, as it went against everything he knew and reacted in any way he could to 'fix' the outcome. With children, they pull tantrums and it's cute because it's about a toy. In dangerous adults it often includes alcohol; something commonly abused by many parents, including my own. It also includes vicious lies, spreading rumors, humiliation tactics, threats, and suicide threats — anything to fix the problem and return to the normal they live by and know, even if they are miserable. It is a miserable situation they are comfortable with. Oh, the subconscious is all about comfort, even to the detriment of our lives. Why go on a diet? It's weird and uncomfortable. Constant sugar intake is comfortable and yummy; who cares if the person now has diabetes and has heart disease?

My sister was in the natural struggle of getting on her feet when the husband threatened suicide if she didn't return to him. Logically it is insane to a health mindset, but to another acidic mind it makes perfect sense. There is a sick but common reaction when someone gets kidnapped. Many fall for their captors after a fashion and choose to stay, despite rape, abuse, and starvation, because it is hard to leave a situation cold turkey. Facing unknown areas in life is a paralyzing fear with many people; so are humiliation, public speaking, heights, intimacy, dark, and flying. In all of those "the scary unknown" is the key and common factor. How far will they drop, what is in the dark? How and what will these people think of me?

She, like many others fell into this trap and went back to her abuser. Within a few short weeks she had attempted suicide three times as a means of escape. Her captor had convinced her of her worthlessness and hopelessness. She was helpless and knew her original effort of getting back on her feet would just fail again, so why try? The programming she had been indoctrinated with as a child, together with her captor's mind control, had brought her here. Yet she too could still change and write a new story, if she chose, even now. One day she may say "I have made a grave mistake."

My eyes tore reluctantly from the Psych paper and new liquid drops had formed. I had no idea. I knew something was going on with her sister but I never knew beyond the headlines. I had read stories in the newspaper and books about the other person in the relationship threatened suicide. It did sound crazy and I was very glad I didn't have that threat made against me. What would I do if Doogie did that? Would I let him just do it? I don't want to see him again, ever. I knew now I could never be with him again. It would be taking 1000 steps backward and it would make me absolutely miserable. I had changed dramatically and I loved myself now, or at least liked myself on rougher days. I was letting him go and had made great strides. I was over him at a greater level than I had been. I knew I would be over him completely one day. If I had the unfortunate day of seeing him, I would never take him back. I would not turn into her sister.

I climbed walls, shot arrows, hiked, rode horses, camped, canoed, and even had one of Josh's roommates teach me skateboarding and how to kick a soccer ball. I could officially now go down the street without falling on the skateboard and kick the black and white ball in the direction I wanted. Me and Josh did that each week to spend time together. I would never be allowed to do any of that human or vampire. The plastic bubble I was in would now suffocate me. I wanted to live and grow old. Someday I would want marriage and children. Bella loved Edward and put up with the plastic bubble, but Marie loved freedom and choices.

Marie's impatient tone woke me out of my musings and I hurried to make the small adjustments. When I returned it quietly, she winked. She had been wanting to tell me how I had influenced her and what was going on, but couldn't talk about it yet out loud. She had chosen to do it this way instead. She was conniving, sneaky,.. wonderful, and amazing. My ability to give her space was sometimes not helpful and sometimes exactly needed. I just gave her a watery smile and put my head on her shoulder and sat there for a while. It was a silent thank you.

Kris eventually spoke. "So the cookies you made are detrimental to your health."

"Yes they are; however, to someone else they aren't."

"You're a wonderful human being, Marie Swan." I swallowed and closed my eyes. I was touched and a tear fell on my right cheek.

"So are you, 'Ms. Walters'." I teases while mimicking Mr. Peter's dry voice.

"Ugh, that guy is the worst. Why can't he get my last name correct? What's so hard about 'Waldon'?" I laughed.

"Mr. Peters doesn't like either of us. He always says "Swaaan." as if I kicked his favorite dog."

"Crazy old man." Kris muttered, now inhaling the alarmingly dangerous food; only to me in this entire world.