Do You Have A Sleeping Bag?” I

He's Going To Hurt You," Al Said, Looking At Pierce. "i Can Take Care Of You, Teach You To Survive. Be There For You, Even If You Do Hate Me." I Shivered. "i Don't Want Him," I Said, And Al Turned Away, Seeming Smaller Somehow.

Lately I’d Begun Carrying Pain Amulets In My Bag, Like Some People Have Breath Mints.

My Blood Rose, Mixing With My Lingering Fear Of The Unknown To Drive Her To A Fever Pitch. Her Lips Touched My Lower Neck And Vertigo Spun The Room, Burning Tracings Of Desire To Settle Deep And Low In Me. I Exhaled Into The Promise Of More To Come, Calling It To Me. I Breathed It In Like Smoke, The Rising Passion Starting A Feeling Of Abandonment Inside. I Didn’t Care Anymore If It Was Right Or Wrong. It Just Was.

But A Slow, Deeply Satisfied Smile Came Over Him, And His Breath Quickened. 'so Softly It Starts,' He Whispered. 'foolishly Clever And With An Unsurvivable Trust. It Just Saved Your Miserable Life, That Questionable Show Of Thought, My Itchy-witch.' Al’s Smile Shifted, Becoming Lighter. 'and Now You Will Live To Possibly Regret It.

Rachel, You Take Her,” My Mother Said, Clearly Uncomfortable. “she Might Like You.” “no. Mom, No!” I Protested, But It Was My Mother We Were Talking About, And It Was Either Take The Baby Or Have Her Hit The Floor.