I have followers! I'm happy. ^^ I am planning on continuing the series until it reaches an actual ending, and hopefully, everyone would be OK with the ending. I personally like the idea that I have right now. But I have a weird sense of thinking what is good and what isn't. I love all of the reviews that I have gotten recently, and I have tried to fit in some of your suggestions and requests. Please continue to review as you see fit. Now on with the story...

...Right after the disclaimer: "I was a fool in school for cutting gym." I don't own SA.

Push

Wendla Bergman walked through the front door of her home, fresh from a visit at Moritz's work. The whole visit had seemed off to her, because it seemed like everyone was staring at her the entire visit. They weren't stares that were filled with hate or fear, but with lust. At least, that was what Wendla had interpreted it as. The carpenter in particular would look at her intently for ten minutes at a time; his eyes filled with hunger. But Moritz's eyes were filled with a different kind of lust. It was discreet, scarce, but extremely concentrated. Wendla knew that she had to ward off these kinds of looks, but she liked the feeling that appeared within her whenever she felt Moritz's eyes travel her body. It was as if he were appreciating her for her beauty, not her body. She imagined what it would feel like to have Moritz explore where he wished, but his image was immediately replaced by Melchior. She remembered how it had felt in the hayloft. So right, so natural...

"Wendla!" Frau Bergman shouted as she saw her daughter enter the house. Wendla jumped.

"Yes, Mama?" Frau Bergman's eyes were filled with suspicion. Wendla felt like a cow that had waltzed into a slaughter house.

"Where have you been?" Frau Bergman asked as she approached her daughter, her eyes narrowing.

"I was only off to visit Moritz at his work." Wendla hesitated before gathering her courage. "Is something the matter, Mama?"

"I ran into Frau Gabor at the market today," Frau Bergman said as if that explained it all. Wendla was about to ask what of it but was stopped by her mother. "She said that you had been over to her house for dinner the other day."

"Yes, this is true," Wendla said, not sure where this conversation was headed towards.

"Isn't that Moritz boy staying with the Gabors?" Frau Bergman asked.

Wendla blinked. "Yes, Mama."

"Wendla, do you not listen to anything that I tell you?" Frau Bergman asked, her tone quick and fierce. "I warned you about boys like Moritz and Melchior. They'll only lead to bad news for both of us. Now I want you to stay away from those boys. Is that understood?"

"But, Mama, I-"

"Is that understood, Wendla?" Wendla looked into her mother's eyes and could find no room for argument.

"Yes, Mama." Frau Bergman's posture immediately changed to a more relaxed pose.

"Good. Now go to your room and freshen up. It's almost time for dinner," Frau Bergman said, turning on her daughter and heading to the kitchen.

"Yes, Mama," Wendla answered as she exited to foyer and went into her room. She sat down on her bed, thinking over what her mother had said. She felt that everything had been going well with Moritz, but she needed to stay close to him. Otherwise, he would begin slipping into another depression. Her absence would also cause Melchior to leave. If he knew that he would have to wait for her to be of age before he could see her again, would he be willing to wait that long? She felt tears trickling down her face as she thought more and more, not realizing how crucial she was in holding everything together. She would be causing her friends so much pain just by staying away from them.

"Wendla, dear! Dinner's prepared!" Frau Bergman yelled from the dining room.

"J-just a minute!" Wendla sniffed back. She stood and walked to her mirror hanging on the wall, whipping her tears away. Her eyes were puffy and red. She tried applying some base, but that didn't seem to help. She thought of applying mascara, but knew that her mother would take notice of this and scold her for wasting the little that she had. Wendla inevitably gave up and walked into the dining room, taking her place at the seat closest to her mother. She looked at the empty table, even her father's usual place was unattended to.

"Where is Papa?" Wendla asked her mother as Frau Bergman entered the room carrying to plates filled with potatoes and cabbage. If her mother noticed her tears and useless cover up, she didn't show it.

"He had to go out of the town for the week. So it will be just you and I for a while."

Wendla sighed. "Lovely."

Wendla listened intently to her mother's bedroom door. She had been like this for a few minutes. She didn't want to make her move until she was certain that her mother was asleep. It wasn't long before she heard very loud snores coming from within the room. Wendla smiled as she reached for the doorknob and gently opened the door of her mother's bedroom. Wendla glanced around the room and immediately found her item of interest, her mother's purse. It always lay just a little ways under her bed. It was a very bright red color, making it noticeable in the dark, even in shadow. Wendla tip-toed over to her mother's bed, leaned down, and snatched the purse. After a little shuffling, she found her mother's money pouch. She extracted just enough so that her mother wouldn't notice, and then returned to her room, thanking the Lord that her mother was a heavy sleeper.

Wendla had decided to live on the streets. She had packed her essentials as her mother prepared for bed that night. She was going to leave the supervision of her mother so that she could be there for the ones that truly need her, her friends. "I think that should cover everything," Wendla whispered to herself as she closed her briefcase and snapped it's lock. Wendla stood up and walked to the door, stopping only for a brief, "Sorry, Mama," as she headed into the darkness.

The streets were silent, cold. Not a streetlamp was burning as she walked the familiar path to the main square. Wendla had already thought of the perfect spot for her to stay. The alley behind the butcher was one of the smallest alleys in the town, but she would have a good supply of meat, as long as she found it before it had been sitting in the dumpster too long; and it was also closer to her school, so that she could continue her education. Wendla had just turned on the proper alley when she noticed a figure in the pale blue darkness. It wore green and seemed to flow with the wind as it approached her.

"Wendla?" asked the figure in a voice that Wendla could recognize anywhere.

"Ilse! What are you-" Wendla started but could not continue as she found Ilse's hand over her lips.

"You must be quiet here," Ilse said before lowering her hand. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"I have decided to live on the streets," Wendla said, matter-of-factly.

"And why on earth would you want to do that?" Ilse asked, looking at her childhood friend in amazement. "Do you have any idea what it's like out here?"

"No, but I expect that you could show me now that you're here," Wendla said, pulling Ilse in for an embrace. "Oh, I've missed you so."

"And I, you," Ilse said, pushing Wendla away. "But how did you end up like this? Did you disobey your mother, or worse, your father?"

"In a way," Wendla said, explaining the whole story to Ilse, starting at the conversation that her mother had explained to her what love-making truly meant. Ilse listened in silence with a completely blank expression.

Once Wendla was done, Ilse roughly turned her around and pushed her back down the alleyway. "You shouldn't be here. This is not the life for you," Ilse said, continuing to push Wendla. "You have so much in store for you, Wendla. I'm not going to let you throw it away as if it her trash."

Wendla dug her heels into the ground, stopping Ilse's pushing. "No, Ilse. I have to be there for my friends. Without me to rely on, they could end up dead, by their own hand. Please tell that you wouldn't want that for Moritz." At the mention of Moritz's name, Ilse stopped her pushing. She seemed to be remembering a distant memory, one that Wendla wasn't going to interrupt. If this were to convince her to stay together, she wouldn't interrupt it for the world.

"All right," Ilse said after what seemed like several hours, "I am heading towards a man. This particular man requires needs that only women can provide. Needs similar to the ones that your mother described. He will be expecting those needs to be fulfilled as soon as I arrive. Wendla, would you be willing to follow me and help me fulfill his needs? Know that if you say yes, you can never turn back." Wendla tilted her head slightly, contemplating what Ilse was offering. Could she truly give away everything that she had to give, and expect nothing in return? Ilse stood in front of her silently, waiting for a response. Wendla, suddenly recalled her feelings towards Moritz that she had felt earlier that day, and the way Melchior's skin felt against hers... Maybe it was time that she felt something more then a remembrance, something that could have been. If she wanted to feel anything, she would need to make the call. This call was a one that she felt would lead her to a happier tomorrow, even if it was dark as she nodded and took Ilse's hand, following her into the night.

Hope everyone enjoyed and please, please, please review!