DiRTY LiTTLE SECRETS ✩ [open] advanced literate

[HoRRiDx]

OPEN

[0 V I P A R 0 U S]

»┊ crickєt ┊«
Clouds are m a r c h i n g along, singing a song, just like they do.
If the clouds were s i n g i n g a song, I'd sing along, wouldn't you too?
If you just knew what they c o u l d do.
Oh, if you j u s t knew, what would they do?
And if the birds are just h o l l o w words flying along, singing a song,
What w o u l d they do?
If t h e y just knew what they could do.
Oh, if they just k n e w.

Waking up was never fun. Especially when you woke up with a massive headache, with a thousand emotions and thoughts being thrown at you from every place. Maybe sleeping in the park wasn’t the best idea in the world, at the time it seemed pretty reasonable. Now that she was surrounded by more than a thousand different faces, what was she to do when all their emotions came pouring at you. When you could feel their sadness pouring through your veins, then listen to them complain about something without them even look at you. Now, Cricket was lying on a bench, trying to isolate herself from everyone else, but they always seemed to find their way back to her.

Cricket sighed, no one was close enough to her right now to see her lying on the bench hidden by the trees. The park stretched out for awhile, and their where random benches and picnic tables to eat at. The girl’s small hands flew to her temples, rubbing them repeatedly trying to stop the pounding headache. Of course she thought that she was becoming immune to these constant, awful headaches, but they never seemed to fade. Only worst once more people began surrounding her. Cricket could feel her veins pounding in her temples, nothing that was new.

Cricket was sweating around the collar of her white shirt. She had slept through the whole night. That was a first, she was normally interrupted by touching something or someone and getting a vision. They had been coming more often now, but that’s only because she has been around new people and such. Now Cricket, otherwise originally known as Charlotte Alicia Foley, but now she had to go by Cricket. Two name changes, and she was still running from the cops. She didn’t even do anything wrong.

Cricket had begun to get these weird feelings in New York when she was about to steal something. Not from stealing, but some people stood out from the rest. They caught her attention, and she couldn’t help but stare. They where like her -- well not exactly, but they had some other sense like her eleven senses.

Sometimes Cricket wished she had another power. She wouldn’t have these massive headaches, nor would she think that something faltered in her brain, or the cells weren’t connected correctly so that she had these eleven sense. Why couldn’t she just be normal? How many times had she asked herself that, anyway?

Cricket wished she had a power like a super strength. She was so weak, and not being out in the wild only made her weaker. She couldn’t lift a lot of things, her arms where like tooth picks. She had a hard time doing a lot of things, like lifting five easily pounds or something like that. Cricket shook her head, then felt her head pounding again. She rubbed her head harder before hearing something in the distance. Why hadn’t she noticed this before?

Of course, Cricket was thinking about something else. Wishing she was someone else, the headache grew worst, but the thoughts of the children where always scattered everywhere. She didn’t have time to sort them all out, and now that the little boy was pointing at her, motioning for his mother in the cold, Cricket shrank into her bench. Maybe she could get away.

The little boys thoughts where hitting her from every side now, followed by the excitement running through him. Cricket slowly stood up, and backed behind the bench. There was something she was good at. Cricket was good at, well, being a cricket. She could hide from anyone, but she didn’t make those weird songs at night. Then people would defiantly know that something was up.

The little boys confusion made her shudder. She hated feeling confused, so this was only worst coming from the little boy. The sun was beating down on her bleach blonde hair. Her hair was never this blonde, until she started spending more time in the sun. She really had no choice.

The little boys mother came jogging in behind him. Another set of confusing emotions. They would walk away, Cricket knew it. She sighed as they walked off, the mother yanking her sons arm. Cricket laughed softly and walked towards the park. She didn’t like hiding in the trees. The sun only made it worst on her. She wore a pair of denim shorts, a white tank top and a blue, plaid button up t-shirt that was unbuttoned. Cricket clutched her dirty, worn out bag that she had forever now. It held stolen items and clothing articles. She could take all types of things from places.

With the backpack, it only made it easier to steal things. She stole a pair of jeans just in case she got cold, and a really old jacket. That was all she really needed, besides the extra underwear she carried sometimes. She hated wearing that stuff. Sometimes Cricket went overboard when she stole things. If she had enough money, she would actually buy something, but it would only be food.


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Cricket knew when she was getting closer. She already knew where she was going to go, and what she was going to do in the next couple of minutes. She knew to avoid some people, she knew when she was going to bump into people or fall. She didn’t need to fall, she would hurt herself, badly. Cricket had fine skin.

Once the veins in her head started to pound some more, Cricket walked into the park. Surrounded by more emotions, more thoughts. She avoiding touching anyone or anything. No one was standing out from all the other humans. Hopefully she would encounter one of those people. She was always so afraid to talk to them, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

People sat on the benches, but it seemed like they where already there. Cricket had already seen them there, another one of her senses. She got tired of these things. Maybe the headaches where another sense, an annoying one.

Cricket shook her head. People looked at her with her converse that where torn through the sides. Almost showing her socks. She didn’t care about new shoes that much. New clothes was more important. Her hair was pulled into a nasty rubber band, it was messy. When was the last time she broke into someone’s house to take a shower? It wasn’t too long ago, maybe two or three days ago. She could last about four more.

Breaking into people’s houses would be difficult if it weren’t for her knowing how to unlock the lock just by touching it. Using something around in the area to turn it to the right turn, something big enough to pick it. Of course she was smart enough to make sure no one was home and that she took a real quick shower. They never even noticed.

Cricket tried to annoy the headache. Multiple voices sounded in her head. She needed something to block it out -- something to block out the pain of her head. If it was even possible to do such a thing. It wouldn’t leave her alone.

People stared, Cricket smiled, covering up the pain of the headache. How much money did she have now? She pulled her bag in front of her. It had the words “The Genie” over it. Her friends had sewed them in before they left her.

Pulling out five green pieces of flimsy paper, Cricket smiled. She would have enough to buy some random breakfast some place. Maybe McDonalds. That was a good place to eat when you where starving your brains out instead of stealing things.

More people stared as the girl walked past everyone. Crunching her nose every time she felt hatred or sadness. She hated those feelings, and people just looked at her. When they saw her, they thought that they where contagious throwing their feelings at other people. They where so close from the answer, but yet so far.


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Entering McDonalds, the line was clear. What time was it? She didn’t casually come into McDonalds or anywhere to eat. The cashier smiled, reciting the same thing they said to everyone that came to the register. “Hello, and welcome to McDonalds, how may I help you?” The female asked Cricket.

The female wasn’t happy with her job. Just here to pay off of college. She even hated McDonalds, but it would all be worth it in the end. She had to force herself to smile when she asked Cricket what she wanted. The girl’s name was Maggie, according to her name tag.

Cricket dared to touch her, to see what would happen. Sometimes curiosity got a hold of her. She had long, black curly hair with pale skin that made her hair stand out. She wasn’t super skinny or weak like Cricket was, she worked out. Cricket could see the muscles on her arms. She had dark brown eyes that you could barely see the pupil.

Looking up at the breakfast menu, she chose something at random. She didn’t care what she ate, as long as it was something. “Ugh . . . I’ll have a number four.” She nodded and pressed something on the cash register.

“Meal?” Maggie asked, Cricket nodded. She was hungry, and she would eat anything they gave her at this point. Maggie handed her a cup, and Cricket turned around to go get some coke. It was her favorite.

No one even noticed her, but she sure noticed them. It was hard not to when you can read everyone’s minds and feel their feelings. When you touch something and you get a vision. Knowing stuff five or ten minutes before they happened. Telling who had super powers and who didn’t in a group of New Yorkers. Wasn’t life just great?

Once the food came out, or whatever it was, she grabbed it, and walked to the table farthest away from everyone. That didn’t stop the thoughts though, when she stuck her teeth into what she was eating, it sent all the thoughts away. She was just focused on what she was eating.

It was delicious now. When she lived in Colorado, it would probably taste nasty to her. The best part was, Cricket had extra money to buy something else later on. Food of course. She didn’t waste her money on other things, they weren’t really needed.


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Being finished was horrible. Cricket didn’t want the food to end, or the rush of the headache striking her from different angles. Cricket sighed and sucked on her coke for awhile before standing up and dumping her items. She brought the coke with her though, it was much too hot outside at this point.

Walking down the sidewalk, Cricket avoid any contact with the mortals. She didn’t consider herself a mortal, like an alien of some sort, she didn’t want to stop in the middle of the place and have a vision. She had the tendency to do that when she had her visions. She already saw where everyone was, moving to the sides away from them. It would have been impossible if she wasn’t so small.


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Cricket made her way back to her normal bench. She made herself comfortable. Sure the everyone’s thoughts drowned her, but this spot was always just here. In the middle of civilization. She had been sitting here for awhile now. Ever since she first came to New York. She browsed the heads among heads, looking at faces, recognizing some of them, but none caught her attention. No one stood out from the rest.

Sighing, Cricket took another sip of the coke. It was only half gone by now, and she wasn’t hungry anymore. She was thirsty, yes, but that was only because of the awful sun beating on her. There was no way to avoid the sun, why would someone want to anyways?

Cricket crossed her feet underneath her. Sitting “criss cross applesauce”. She remembered when she used to call it that, she did for the longest amount of time. Like when she called the “bathroom” the “potty room”. Some habits die hard.

[HoRRiDx]

xxx•xSAFFRON REYNOLDSx•xxx
I know, today is going too [********] slow;
So take a number get in line Ill tell you all where to go
Its last call, so here I am alone in the hall
I guess nobody gets my jokes at all...
Its no prize, being me and getting to wise; they just make you turn around and go appologise
No, i don't owe you anything
To HELL with Im sorry, Bombs away!

Ronnie kicked her shoe against the ground, it skidded with a rip of rubber against cement and stopped immediately when it came into contact with a rock. Her foot collided with the solid object and it hurled forward, Spinning out of control and into the street. She watched the thing bounce upon the road ricocheting off the side of a bright yellow cab with a loud TINK, and rolling back to her. The cabbie none too pleased with the fact that Saffron had inadvertently kicked the rock at his car; Denting the side slightly, rolled down his window.

She was quite glad that he hadn’t gotten out and checked if the car had been dented, because Saff was quite sure it would be more than profanities being thrown in her direction if he did. Not that she understood half of what the man was saying. He was speaking a completely different language that Saff had never learnt in all her years of schooling. Hell she failed the French class she had been taking.

She simply smiled at the man, her pink lips almost like blood in the snow when it compared to her skin. The sun was shining down extra hard today and Saffron couldn’t help but feel rather smelly. More than usual. Wiping yourself down in the washroom of a grocery store wasn’t exactly hygienic. At least not compared to the half hour long showers she used to take at home. Oh how she longed for hot, running water… Not to mention a comfortable bed.

Ronnie had managed to scrounge up what she could. Some old ratty blankets, a few bucks and yoga matt. If you looked hard enough, you could find plenty of nice things on the street. Thrown out by richer folk, that wouldn’t know hard living if it crawled up their a** and ******** them.

Saff laughed inwardly to herself at the thought, as she passed by yet another group of kids, playing on the side walk with a rubber water hose. Each one in soggy shorts or soaked bathing suits; Laughing at one another like they didn’t have a care in the world.
Ronnie’s smile faltered slightly… She watched the running water and the kids. Wondering what would have happened to her had they never gone into that old abandoned building that night. Of course, she couldn’t think about that right now. The past was the past, and she wanted to forget it! Put it behind her.

Looking down and behind herself she patted the back of her thigh twice, sharply. “Tst, Tst.” An orange cat turned quickly toward her, his head straight and his eyes full of wonder. The little thing had wondered over to the puddles of water, and had been drinking from the crisp cool liquid around his toes. But as Saff moved on, so did he. Almost like a well trained dog. Ronnie was careful of him, but didn’t need to worry much about the little guy running off on her. Always secretly wondering if Conan (her cat) was a dog, stuck in a cats body.

Coming to a rather busy intersection Ronnie slowed her pace. The blonde teenager unsure of where she was, never one to need directions. Canada was an easy place to navigate. People would often use directions as simple as “The first turn after the blue house,” or “take a right at the tree stub.” Here she needed to know numbers, and digits, and building names… streets, parks, construction sites? It was all so confusing, so new!

“Destroyer!” She called, the little orange cat tip-toed up to her in a rush, nuzzling his head up against her right leg and snapping his tail behind him, like a horse swatting away flies. Ronnie smiled down at the orange cat, his big yellow eyes seeming to grin right back at her. As if he knew she was his mother. “Come here you little Monster,” Saffron bent down and wrapped her slender fingers around his belly. Hoisting him up and into her arms. They wrapped around him tightly, pale fingers clearly visible in the mess of fur. She wasn’t going to let go of him… Not until they crossed the street at least.

It was a few blocks later and Conan was back on the ground. Feet padding softly next to Saffron as they walked. Ronnie’s shoes slid against the ground, one size to big for her feet as usual, and nearly coming off with every step. The girl hated tying them tight! It was always her own little way of spiting her gym teacher, a man whom always complained about her wearing skater shoes, instead of the required runners. Like she was going to buy a whole new pair of shoes just for gym? … A class which she didn’t need, want, nor try to complete ever.

Her fingers gripped tightly against her pants, tugging them up as they slid down her waist. She had left the only belt she owned back at her hide away. A dank old abandoned subway platform, dark and dirty. Saffron was sure there were rats… Ronnie was never afraid of rodents, rather liked them actually; But alone in the darkened subway platform, knowing there were little creatures in the shadows surrounding her. Was un-nerving. Conan took care of them coming near here, only ever playing with them, never taking a life. He was a good boy.

She lowered her hand to tug at the pants again. They were regular green baggy pants, riddled with various pockets and zippers that managed to drag her down. Saff kept so many things in the depths of her pants that she wasn’t surprised by how they were always sliding down her hips. Her shirt, was much more plain than that! No pockets, no secret compartments. Just a regular blank tank top that sat under a jean, crimson, long sleeved jacket which cut off just below her bust line. The clothes she wore were nice… Once. Now they were fairly dirty, stretched because they hadn’t been washed in a while. Not… properly anyways; But Saffron still walked the street like there was nothing wrong. Cat bouncing cheerily behind her. The tip of his tail hooked, like fishing line. Just waiting to catch something in the breeze.

“Destroyer…” Saff called to the little bugger again, he turned in reply hoping up onto a nearby cement bench which faced out into a vast park. One of the many Ronnie was sure she’d find throughout the city. Whether she remembered their names or not.

Rey smiled down to the little kitten taking a seat next to him and brushing back the hair behind his ears. Conan purred in reply, softly; closing his eyes with every new movement Saff made against his head. Suddenly the girl was glad she’d brought him with her. Something from home… If she was sitting on this bench alone she wouldn’t know what she’d do. Probably break out into tears! Looking like some lunatic crying on a bench. Saff hated crying, hated showing her emotions and with Conan here to make her smile, she’d never have to.

Squinting slightly in the bright sunlight Ronnie raised her other hand to her eyes, blocking out some of the rays that were currently threatening her retinas. If anyone looked at her, they’d think she was completely normal. A basic rebellious teenager that should perhaps wash more often.
Later they’d think she was some sort of bum, when her clothes were too wrecked and filthy to look like clothes anymore.

Ronnie pulled self consciously at her shirt, already a bit loose, but still tight enough to look nice. She’d always liked her plain clothes. They showed off her form nicely… And hated the idea that soon they’d just be more stuffing for her bed. God knows the yoga mat and old comforters could use some UMPH.

-----

After a moment of sitting a smell wafted by Ronnie… Something sweet and familiar. Saffron raised her eyes and looked about the park, noticing a hot dog vendor not far off from her location. The smell sunk into her like a weight, causing her stomach to growl a deep, low moan of hunger. Her mouth watered slightly and immediately Saff decided she needed one.
When was the last time I ate? Her thoughts were there, but she didn’t answer them. Instead she looked down at her cat and mumbled a nearly audible, “Stay here…” Patting the top of the cats head she stood from the bench. Conan obediently sat there even when she began walking away from him. Slowly at first, then quicker.

Ronnie was unsure of whether or not she had enough money for such a feast, digging her hands into the depths of her pant pockets she was able to scrounge up a few dollars. Canadian? Frowning Rey twisted the bills in her hands, one over the other. Surely they wouldn’t accept Canadian bills? Nor could she pretend they were American.

“Damn our rainbow money!” She managed to let out a slight laugh. Something that used to entertain her to no end was now a curse.

Folding the bills she slid them back into her pocket, it took the perfect moment… The owner turned his back to help three other customers, and in the process of doing so Ronnie was able to slide her way behind the owners back and grasp a couple wieners.

Another shuffle of steps and Saff had some buns. Screw the fixings…

Leaving the stand she made her way back to the stone bench, her cat still there. Obviously glad that she didn’t run off without him. His tail flicked this way and that as he sniffed the buns in her hand. Saff kindly ripped off a small piece for him, and then took a bite for herself. A soft moan the only thing that escaped her lips as she chewed down on the meaty/bun goodness.

[0 V I P A R 0 U S]

»┊ crickєt ┊«
Clouds are m a r c h i n g along, singing a song, just like they do.
If the clouds were s i n g i n g a song, I'd sing along, wouldn't you too?
If you just knew what they c o u l d do.
Oh, if you j u s t knew, what would they do?
And if the birds are just h o l l o w words flying along, singing a song,
What w o u l d they do?
If t h e y just knew what they could do.
Oh, if they just k n e w.

Cricket didn’t realize she was humming to herself. Along with that, she was chewing helplessly on her finger nails. They where short enough, they didn’t need to be any shorter than they already where! That would only result in no finger nails, and they seemed like they where her only defense. She wasn’t strong.

Teeth could do some damage, but she would have to get close enough to the person to bite them. She would only break her knuckles punching someone, or twist her ankle trying to cut someone. Her none-finger nails wouldn’t do any good. She would end up breaking her flimsy fingers trying to dig her nails deep enough to her opponent’s skin. That would be even harder.

If it ever came to fighter, Cricket would end up killing herself before someone could even touch her. Maybe she could run, but she wasn’t very fast. Hiding would work, but what if they where good finders? Ow, headache.

Cricket almost forgot about the headache, it had only gotten worst from the last time that she remembered. She felt like the veins where going to pop out of her head in pain. She shook her head violently, then noticed something. Something that she wouldn’t miss, something she would never miss.

There was a girl, she was standing out from everyone. Obviously someone else that had unique abilities like herself, but she looked so normal. People didn’t even notice her. The cat might have been the weirdest thing that they noticed. Most people in New York had dogs on leashes, but she had a cat and it was just following her around.

She was hungry, the girl was thinking about food, the smell of hot dogs. Cricket crunched her nose, she hated hot dogs, but if she was hungry enough she would eat one of them.

Cricket watched her carefully, the girl was walking over to the stand, fiddling with money. It wasn’t money -- it was Canadian money. She cursed and laughed.

When she went in for the hot dogs, Cricket found herself laughing loudly. She would have done the same if she didn’t have money, but this girl was fast. She got the hot dogs and ran back to her cat and bench.

The girls feelings where now overwhelming her. Cricket didn’t realize how focused she was on the girl, where the other voices where all behind a wall, low murmurs that she could barely hear, but they where defiantly there.

Cricket giggled one last time. She was interesting, but everyone that she noticed seemed interesting. She was just never this close to one of them before, other than herself.

At least she had company, Cricket was just herself. She tried to stay away from people, from getting to know more people and becoming under suspicion, but she seemed different.

She had seen this girl once or twice before. Just walking along, not being noticed by anyone but Cricket. Cricket could probably blend in, if she didn’t have a backpack with her and was always in the park. She was normally lounging around in the park for the most of the day. Until she got hungry or felt dirty.

Cricket was tracing the wood patterns on the wooden bench, as the thoughts came crawling back to her. Soon they where running, and they hit her at different angles. At first they where anger, then love, then sadness. Everything mixed together. Maybe if she could get her mind more organized, she could separate all their thoughts, and she could understand them.

Should she confront the girl? Get to know her name and such. It seemed like a good idea because Cricket knew that she wasn’t like everyone else, but did the girl know that she was different than everyone else? Instead of some clueless person who thinks that if someone is special, they have to be imprisoned.

Prison. What was it even like? Cricket had been running from it for about three or four months. Barely slipping away so many times, but she seemed to have managed. Now it was so close, but yet so far. What if the cops ended up catching her? She could not fight them off, they would probably put a bullet in her small, weak body. What would even be the point? The handcuffs probably wouldn’t even be able to wrap around her small wrist. Cricket could already overlap her fingers over each other when she wrapped them around her wrist.

Not only that, but if they forced her to get the handcuffs on, they would end up smashing her against the floor. Leaving some bones broken, or her skin being torn off. She was cursed with easily-bruised skin, and being weak. Why? Because she was special. There had to be another consequent other than having horrible headaches.

The argument with herself was solved, she would introduce herself. Maybe the girl would get a hint that Cricket was like her but only different. It makes sense, but it doesn’t.

Cricket’s mind was all ******** up. She was built to invade privacy, and kill herself trying to defend herself. If it was her against some mere human, she would end up dying instead of the human.

The other girl was meant for something else, Cricket believe that her purpose in life was to invade all privacy. What was the other girls? Maybe she was running away too, running away from something. The cops, prison, something. Cricket sure as hell was, and she wouldn’t give in. She would kill herself before she did, which wouldn’t be too hard.

Cricket found her legs. They where numb from sitting on top of them. She grabbed her bag, and continued to suck on her coke. It wasn’t all gone yet, surprisingly. She walked towards the bench, hoping that she could even find her voice. She didn’t want to look like some mime.


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The girl was eating her hot dog when she made it to the bench. The orange feline looked at Cricket, and she smiled nervously.

The smell of the girl filled her nostrils. She smelt funny. Cricket figured that she didn’t break into people’s houses and take showers in their bathrooms. Cricket could take a five minute one. In and out. She had been so close to getting caught, but she grabbed her stuff and climbed out the window. She had an advantage when it came to that type of stuff.

Since Cricket was so small, she could climb out of bathroom windows. The ones above the shower, but that meant breaking the window if it didn’t want to open. The people who lived in the house would sooner or later find out. They wouldn’t even think about someone breaking into their house and taking a shower. It was stupid.

Cricket had to admit, she did steal food from their pantries or refrigerators. She would take some water, and some other stuff she could find laying around. She never took too much though, didn’t want to give herself away to the people who owned the house.

Finally, Cricket managed to find her voice. She must have looked like an idiot just standing there. Her headache made it harder to talk. When she opened her mouth, her voice faltered.

Even more like an idiot, Cricket mentally laughed at herself. Whatever the girl thought, Cricket would know it instantly, so she wasn’t worried about wondering what she thought of Cricket.

“Hello,” Cricket said smiling. What else was she suppose to say? She didn’t hold out her hand, out of habit. “Are you satisfied now that you stole that hot dog?” Cricket asked before laughing softly.


[ooc] omfg. that sucked. trying to get a post in before i left. [/ooc]

[capsicle]

❦xxjσѕнυαxxxxjαςƙѕσиxxxxтιεмαииxx❦ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"xxit's jackson to youxx"xxxxxxxx

flat on my f a c e
i can't keep p a c e
but someday i'll be on t o p
high above y o u all
in spite of my h i s to r y, this is me

outcastIf peace and quiet was what Joshua Jackson Tiemann had been looking for, he would have stayed back in Murray, Utah. Hell, if he wanted to get arrested, he would have stayed back there, too. But, he didn't want that, and even though he wasn't a big fan of people, New York had seemed like the only reasonable place to head. It was a big, and he was only one out of thousands of people - the Murray police would never find him here. It was perfect.

outcastLooking down from the rooftop, Jackson - Joshua was who he was before his sister turned on him - let his hazel eyes wander over the people below. The hustle and bustle of New York in the morning was intriguing. Sure, he didn't like the people below - even though he knew none of them - but, it was interesting to watch people strut down the streets of New York with their Starbucks Coffee in one hand, briefcase in the other, with their pressed Armani suits on. They all seemed to think they were the s**t, and they were the ones that stepped on people like Jackson - people who didn't have a job, who didn't live in conditions that they did. The thought made the black-haired male snarl, and he turned away from the rich people, and spit on the rooftop. "They'll never change," he mumbled to himself, digging into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He grabbed one out, placed it to his lips, and put the pack back in its place before going for his lighter. Flicking the lighter open, the let his hand run over the flame, grabbing it in his palm. Jackson studied the flame for a minute, holding it in his hand before placing it to the cigarette, and lighting it. He shook his hand, and the flame quickly went out. Jackson took a long drag of the cigarette, and looked down at the city one last time. There were more people - if that was even possible - on the street below him now, and they all looked like the next - the suits, the coffee, the briefcase, it was ridiculous. They were all the same. It was the one thing Jackson had once wished for - to be the same as everybody else, but he wasn't. He was different; he was a freak.

outcastPulling the cigarette from his lips, Jackson gave the jerks below one last look over before turning on his heel, and heading to the rooftop stairs. He swung the door open with a good amount of force, causing it to slam against the wall, and he begun his decent down the stairs as the door slammed hard behind him. It was dark in the apartment building, but that wasn't a shocker - the place had been abandoned for a while now, the only tenant being Jackson himself. He had found the place a little while after coming to New York about a little over a year ago, and hasn't tried finding another place. For one, he doesn't have the money to actually afford some place decent, and two, he was quite content in the building alone. Sure, he didn't have running water, and heat - did he really need it? - but, he managed with what he had. It was better than being on the street, that's for sure. Jackson made his way down two flights of stairs before he rounded the corner, pushing open a door that would lead him to the main place where he stayed - the loft apartment that was at the top of the building. It was the biggest place in the building, and it actually had a few thing in it such as a broken couch, a falling apart chair, and a crappy mattress that Jackson wouldn't even consider a mattress. All the items had been there when Jackson found the place. He figured that the people who had lived in the building before he moved in couldn't afford to take the s**t with him, and after searching through all the apartments, he had found a couple of other things - such as a table, and a dresser, and a bedside table. It was weird, that people had left the stuff there, but Jackson didn't dwell on it too much; it was s**t, and Jackson was going to take it.

outcast]That's what his life was now - sleeping, and stealing. He didn't get a job - he hated people, and wasn't going to work with them to safe his life. He would starve, thanks. So, he had to get things somehow, so he stole. Surprisingly, Jackson found out he was quite good at it, and had yet to be caught. He didn't still anything big; just a few little things here, like candy bars, and stupid snack food so that he could eat, along with some blankets and such. Just stuff he needed, that's all. But, right now, what he needed most was a good shower - he really stunk. Shedding his jacket, Jackson threw it on the table, and began planning where he would be able to take his next shower. Usually, the black-haired male could go a week without a shower - even though he detested it like none other - but this time, it had been a little over a week, and Jackson felt really dirty. He needed to get cleaned (and laid), 'I think it is time for a visit to Ms. Cross,' the male thought to himself. Ms. Cross was a ninety year old woman who was completely senile, For some reason, when Jackson had walked by her house one day, she had thought that he was her grandson. Jackson was a little weirded about by it at first, and tried to get away from the lady, but she was very persistent, and one thing lead to another, and Jackson would just pretend he was what she wanted him to be. It got him food, a shower, and a place to wash his clothes.

outcastDeciding that's where he would go, Jackson gathered all the clothes that he had, and shoved them into his bag before throwing his torn, and worn leather jacket back on. Then, he sung the bag over his shoulder, and his guitar before heading out of the abandoned apartment building, and onto the street.



----------------------[☆]----------------------



outcastWhen Jackson had arrived at Ms. Cross's home, she welcomed him with open arms, and gladly let him use her shower, and washer, and dryer, and even gave him a nice breakfast. She gave him the normal speech of "how come her grandson was always dirty, and why didn't he clean himself up more often?" Jackson would always say he was just a hard working man, and give her a smile she could never resist, it seemed. Jackson felt slightly bad about using this woman like he did because, out of all the people he had met in his life, she was a really sweet lady, and didn't push him away. She actually seemed to care about him, and Jackson hadn't been cared about for a long time. So, it was nice, but at the same time, he knew that if she found out about who he truly was, she turn on him too. All humans were the same - if you were different, you were a freak, and that was that; no ifs, ands, or buts about it. After getting a warm shower, a good breakfast, and getting his clothes cleaned, he left the old woman's place, telling her that he would come back next week to visit. Of course, he would just be using her to get the food, a shower, and clean clothes, but it was a visit to her, and that's what mattered.

outcastWalking down the streets of New York, Jackson began to wonder where he should play today. To get the cash that would allow him to get food without stealing it, he would set himself up on a corner and play guitar for a few hours of the day. He didn't get a ton a of money out of it, but he got a good amount so that he was able to get dinner, and maybe splurge a little on dessert or something. So, he did it because even though he could just steal, he wasn't a fan of it. He was weary of getting caught, and going to jail and all that s**t. He didn't want to go through it, so he tried to avoid it all together, and playing music on the street corner was something that allowed him to do that. 'Subway? No. Times Square? No. Park? Hm, that could work,' and it was decided - he would go to the park today. It was always full of people who seemed to take pity on him - though, he hated thinking that's why they gave him money, and not because he could actually play - and would give him a a buck or two here, and some change. So, taking a sharp turn, he headed for the park.

outcastThe walk to the park was relatively easy - he got pushed a few times here and there from people trying to get to work, but other than that, it was a pretty clean cut walk. And, when he arrived, it was just like he had thought it would be - full of people moving around, and doing their daily morning activities. Jackson looked around, and tried to find a spot to park himself, and thankfully, there was a bench open that he could - if he wanted to - sit down on when he got tired. So, he made his way over there, and sat down, sliding his guitar off his shoulder, and set it on the ground. Popping open the clips, he lifted the case, and pulled out his guitar. It was a simple acoustic guitar. He had left home with an alpine white Les Paul guitar, and he still had it - it was actually hidden in the loft apartment in the building he was in. It was hidden because he knew that other people would pop into that building every now and then to stay some place - it was irritating because it was Jackson's place, not there's, and he didn't need somebody stealing it. So, he created a hidden compartment for the thing , and kept it there. He would use it to play on the street, but it didn't work out very well. And, to his luck, he found the acoustic in the garbage. He was shocked to find it there since well, the only thing wrong with it was that a few of the tuner knobs were broken, and the strings needed to be replaced, but that was it. So, he got the strings replaced, and used it to make his money on the street.

outcastLeaving the guitar case open, the black-haired male slung the guitar onto his shoulder, and stood up from the bench. After strumming a few cords, and tuning the guitar, he began to play a song.


Bury your thoughts, bury my soul and pray to hold
You're too afraid to take this on and face the ridicule
Try as you might you can't fool me
The pain you hide seems so close to me


outcastHis voice rang softly through the wind, and Jackson could see a few people slowing down as they walked past him, listening to him. And, as he continued to sing the song, people did stop and listen, and people did drop some change, and dollar bills into his case. But, it didn't matter to Jackson - what mattered was that he was playing. He was doing the one thing he loved most in this world, and getting the money was nice, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that people listened while he did what he loved doing. When the song had ended, there was a few people clapping, before throwing money in. He smiled, and thanked them before they began to go back to their daily lives, and Jackson back to playing.





i've got no farther left to fall

[Cute Little Concubine]

C A T H E R I N E nicole S C H W A R T Z

They called me Cat || You can call me Shadow Stalker

✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖

Shed some light on me
And hold me up in disbelief
And shed some light on me
And tell me something that I'll believe in

Catherine Nicole Schwartz's little body tossed and turned in her little cot resting against the far wall of her little room, under the little window, above the little pie shop. She was asleep, but as obvious by her unsettled body, it was an unpleasant sleep. She dreamed of things that during the day remained hidden in the deep deep recesses of her dark and troubled mind. She dreamt of things that she wished she could truely forget instead of repressing the memories as best she could. She dreamt of her past. The dream had started out with pleasant images of her earlier years, when she was still fun and bubbly. Her grandfather had just started teaching her to Fence, and somehow she'd managed to hit herself on the head. The dream had continued on with memories of old friends, then shifted gears. It shifted to what she hated. It shifted to the day her grandfather died.

The dream suddenly lost all color, and was just one dark shadowy moving image. Her friends forgetting her, then turning to hate her for things she'd never done. It showed her the day she'd been told she was in trouble for drug possesion. Drugs? She'd never even seen hard stuff before, except on tv. That same day she'd just wanted to disapear. She wanted to so bad, she felt like she just might be able to, her granfathers words echoing in her head. You can do anything you want, if you believe and try hard enough And then she saw herself becoming a mere shadow on the wall when the cop turned away. She saw herself fall through the wall onto the pavement outside with a SMACK.

Cat jolted awake with the feeling a person gets after awakening frmo a dream of falling. Only, the feeling wasn't a left over from her dream, she'd fallen through her cot and the ceiling that was now above her, and into the storage room of the pie shop below. "Dammit, not again!" She muttered, dusting flour off her pants. She sighed, walking towards the door that lead to the stairs. Only, when she reached she didn't open the door. She walked through it, phasing out so as not to alert anyone she was there. When she got upstairs, she waisted no time getting dressed. She threw on a black and white striped shirt that had sleves to her elbow. A pin-striped vest hung loosely over it. She threw on a black ruffly skirt that was almost tu-tu like, just not so extreme, and she threw on some ripped white tights. On her feet were her favorite black boots. they were flat (Cat didn't wear heels) and went a third of the way up her calf. She ran a comb through the hair, then clipped it up quickly, not caring how it looked. She just wanted it out of her face.

She then walked down the stairs, and this time using the door, walked into the front store of the Pie Shop. She smiled at the owners, giving them a tiny wave as she headed out the front of the store. She worked a few times a week to pay for the room above the shop and make enough to get by on. It was a nice set-up, though it was only a matter of time before they discovered that she could walk through walls. It had happened before, but she'd always dissapeared before anything got past the point of just forgetting the whole thing ever happened. That was the life she lived: always on the run for commiting acts that she either did not do or couldn't help.

As she past the fruit stall near the shop, she grabbed an apple, and winked at the foreign man who owned it. He gave her a smile as she walked by. Cat and the man got along rather well, and he always felt sorry for her, because she was an orphan. at least that's what she told him the first time they'd met. It wasn't a complete lie. She may as well have been an orphan. Her parents had stopped caring about her ages before she'd left, and they certainly hadn't tried to find her. She didn't have parents, thats what an orphan was, right? A parentless individual.

Cat had nothing to do today, so she found herself simply heading in the direction towards the park. She liked it there because nobody bothered her. A person could sit on the same goddamn bench all day without anybody giving them s**t about it. In fact, they probably didn't even notice. Everybody always wrapped up in themselves and their own pitiful existences, why would they care about a small teenage girl sitting on a bench in the middle of a park? It was a normal thing, right? Right.

She walked down the busy sidewalks of New York. She walked past street vendors and people on their way to work. She walked past people walking past her. The lights and sounds of the city that had once left her starring in awe now fell upon jaded senses of the girl called Shadow Stalker. Yeah, they sights had inspired wonder in the girl called Cat. But that girl had been left behind, and in her place stood Shadow Stalker. In her mind, she still used Cat. It was short and sweet, plus it was what her grandfather had called her.

Although most of the memories of her past were pushed away, she still liked the good ones of when her grandfather was still alive. Her calling herself Cat mentally accomplished this. However, other people were to refer to her as Shadow. It was rather fitting, though. Seeing as how her power allowed her to be just that very thing. Cat also thought of her powers as a reminder of her grandfather. It was thanks to him she had gotten them. He had told her beleive, and she did. And she was so thankful that the thing about her grandpa that had stayed with her always had not been a lie. So many times are childhood promises proved false, it was nice to know she had not be lied to.

But anymore, there was little she believed in. She rouned the corner and walked into the Park. She was headed towards her usual bench, when she was captivated by a young steet performers...well, performance. A small smile, she headed over to him and his small crowd, joining the group listening to him. Without any reservations, she plopped down onto the concrete in front of him, sitting cross-legged as she listened to him play. Her arms were out behind her supporting her as she leaned back ever so slightly.

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

[HoRRiDx]

xxx•xSAFFRON REYNOLDSx•xxx
I know, today is going too [********] slow;
So take a number get in line Ill tell you all where to go
Its last call, so here I am alone in the hall
I guess nobody gets my jokes at all...
Its no prize, being me and getting to wise; they just make you turn around and go appologise
No, i don't owe you anything
To HELL with Im sorry, Bombs away!

Ronnie sunk her teeth into the hot dog again, sweet processed tastes filled her mouth as she chewed. Her stomach calmed with every bite and soon enough the hunger subsided. Still nipping at her mind slightly, making sure she knew that she needed to eat again later.

Swallowing she smiled down at Conan, picking another piece of wiener off and setting it against the stone bench for him to eat. She scratched his head, fingers playing with the fur behind his ears before she noticed him look up. Not at her… but past her. Completely ignoring the hunk of delicious meat sitting at his toes. Saffron’s eyes narrowed slightly before she followed his line of site. Slightly shocked to see that there was a girl standing before her.

At first Ronnie assumed the girl needed to sit on the bench, and that she was just in the way of that. But with a quick glance at the seat Saff noted that there was enough room for both of them. So either the girl didn’t want ANYONE sitting next to her… at all, or she wanted Ronnie’s attention.

For a moment the strange blonde girl just looked down at her, smiling nervously. Their eyes were locked but Saffron could tell the girl was thinking about something. What? Was a different question.

Swallowing her food Rey didn’t dare take another bite. The situation was getting increasingly awkward as the girl just smiled at her. Looking rather timid. Ronnie could take her… She would indefinitely hurt herself in the process, but it would only take a few seconds to leap onto her back and put her in some sort of sleep hold.
Not that… she knew how.

Ronnie had watched every episode of star trek, had often seen Spock use the Vulcan sleep hold on unsuspecting victims. Had seen wrestlers, and spy movies and out of all that information Ronnie managed to pick up the fact that if she pressed for at least 10 seconds against the throat, the person would eventually fall asleep. Didn’t mean that she would have 10 seconds.

Eventually Ronnie took another bite of her hot dog… Eyes never straying from the stranger in front of her.

“Hello,” The lull in conversation had stopped. Of course, didn’t they have to have started the conversation… For there to have been a lull? Rey wasn’t sure, non the less. She had finally started speaking. “Are you satisfied now that you stole that hot dog?”

Saffron’s eyes widened slightly. The cat, who had returned to eating his chunk of meat, had raised his head to look at the stranger. She swallowed again, it was of course a little harder this time. “Excuse me?” Looking this girl up and down she took the sight in. The girl was normal looking, bleach blonde hair, an average teenager, her clothes were a little dirty and she was short. Ronnie wouldn’t know if she was shorter than herself until she stood from the bench! “Listen,” Her hand raised defensively, “If that’s your dad or something… I’m sorry, but a girls gotta eat!”

What was the stranger going to do, call the cops on her over a couple stupid hot dogs?

Standing Rey took another bite, her last bite. Shoving the thing into her mouth before anyone could snatch it away from her. She started chewing. Making a mock face at the new girl, indicating that she didn’t care if she hollered “Thief” to the world, she would still get away with taking the hot dogs. Apparently she hadn’t noticed the slight laugh the girl gave, if the comment had been a joke… Ronnie wasn’t aware.

Music began to pick up in the background. A soft acoustic guitar and male vocals. Saffron could hear it above the crowd, not far off, but paid no attention. No… Something else was going on. Her head was spinning. Stopping her little scene Ronnie frowned, chewing a few more times and swallowing the rest before her eyes began to turn, swell. Her head was pounding.

“Hmm,” Falling backward her butt made contact with the hard stone bench. Saffron looked up over the crowd, her head feeling like somebody walked up behind her and smashed a bottle over her head. The music was getting louder, slowly. She could suddenly hear it as though the man was standing right next to her.

She could see the faces of the people watching him. It was a weird sort of rush, a flash of images and thoughts and it made her head hurt. Making her dizzy, almost weak.

Staring forward at the ground Saff grasped at her head a moment, closing her eyes. She could still see everything despite the fact that her eyes were tightly shut….


THEN WOOSH.


Her cat stepped up onto her lap, nuzzling his head underneath her chin and flicking his tale up and into her ear. She had suddenly snapped back to reality, no headache… No faces, no voices. The music had died lower and everyone around her had continued on with they merry ways. She probably could have fallen over dead right there, and no one would have stopped to check her vitals.

Rey took a deep breath, straightening her back and brushing strands of long blonde hair behind her ear. She pet the cat, smiling lightly down at him. Not sure what had just happened to her. “Ugh, I’m never stealing from that hot dog vendor again.” Mumbling quietly to herself, or anyone around to hear her, Ronnie frowned. Slightly disgusted with herself now for eating such crap.

Maybe she had food poisoning?

Looking up she saw the crowd of people, the boy singing and the group around him. They were rather far away. When her brain finally stopped trying to wrack around the idea of what just happened she was left with one word.

Cricket?

[capsicle]

❦xxjσѕнυαxxxxjαςƙѕσиxxxxтιεмαииxx❦ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"xxit's jackson to youxx"xxxxxxxx

flat on my f a c e
i can't keep p a c e
but someday i'll be on t o p
high above y o u all
in spite of my h i s to r y, this is me

outcastJackson's fingers continued to strum over the strings, as he let himself get lost in the music. He had been playing guitar since he was a little boy. His parents still love him at the time - it wasn't until Rayne became the shining star that everyone turned their back on Jackson - and bought him a guitar when he was five years old, just for the hell of it. It wasn't planned that Jackson would actually like the gift, and actually want to learn to play it, but that's exactly what happened. But, his parents didn't want to pay for lessons - they weren't too keen on their son playing guitar. They were more focused on him doing school, so Jackson had to learn to play by himself. He would usually stay after school, and the music teacher at his elementary school, Mrs. Lewis, would let him borrow some books to practice from. And, from that, he went on to middle school, and continued on with studying guitar, and learning more about it. So, by the time he hit high school, he was well versed in how to play guitar, and along the way, he began to sing and write his own music. He didn't know how it happened, he just figured it came with playing - the writing. The singing? Well, he didn't know he could do that till one of his good friends told him he had a voice, and well, he began to sing because, he actually did have a good voice.

outcastSo, he started up a band after that - they call themselves Dirty Lies, and Jackson would write the music, along with some help from his best friend at the time, David, a guitar player, and singer himself. He would also write the lyrics, too, along with David. The two were a team, and the band was heading off in the right direction. They had played in the school talent show, and gained a little following from there, and got some gigs and some teenaged clubs, but Jackson knew they were going to make it one day. Of course, Jackson became this freak, and had to up and leave town. He never did say goodbye to David, the only person who understood him there, but he was sure it didn't matter.

outcastAs he began to start the next song, Jackson looked up to see a beautiful girl with long blond/brown hair sit down a few feet away from him. She was stunning, and if Jackson was straight, he'd totally do her. Yes, to top it all off, Jackson wasn't straight - he was gay; he liked boys, boys, and more boys. Remember David? Yeah, he just wasn't a friend - he was kind of Jackson's boyfriend, too. It was a secret; nobody knew about them, and they kept it under wraps pretty well. He was Jackson's first true boyfriend, and true love, but now, he was thousands of miles away, and probably off screwing some other guy or girl by now. But anyway, Jackson found the girl very attractive, and she was probably a nice person, but that didn't matter - she was a person, and Jackson wouldn't let himself get close to anybody. They'd just turn on him the moment they knew he was a freak.



He takes a number, stands in line
'Cause he doesn't feel like himself.
And he's always played though off they were
Just cared for his sense of self.
But he plays on in spite of everything,
Disillusioned by his right.
What makes it all go away
When you can't put up a fight, you can't put up a fight?



outcastHis voice rang through, hazel eyes falling closed as he got lost in the song once more, letting his hands and voice to the work. The song ended, and more people had gathered around him, and were clapping softy for him, and throwing in money into his case. He smiled, and nodded toward them in thanks, looking down at the case that was filling with change and dollars. He figured he had maybe fifteen bucks in there? He was sure that he could get more, and the day was only beginning. Today was going to be a good day, but first, he needed to take a break. So, carefully, he took the guitar off his shoulder, and the people slowly started to leave. He sat down, and began to collect the money from the case. He would start up again soon, but he didn't feel like taking the chance of somebody running away with some of his cash. And, when he placed it all into his jacket pockets, he sat himself down on the bench with a small sigh, and looked at the people walking to see that girl still sitting there. He raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" he asked, digging into his pocket and getting out a cigarette and his lighter, lighting the cigarette between his lips and taking a drag.





i've got no farther left to fall

[Cute Little Concubine]

C A T H E R I N E nicole S C H W A R T Z

They called me Cat || You can call me Shadow Stalker

✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖ ✔ ✖

Shed some light on me
And hold me up in disbelief
And shed some light on me
And tell me something that I'll believe in

Cat let herself get lost in the music. She closed her eyes, and swayed slightly, almost in a trance. It was nice to have a distraction from...well, from the nothingness her life consisted of. That was what she liked about street performers. They were such pleasant distractions. She also envied them. Because most of them had passions, most of them had goals, most of them had...a purpose. Not Cat. Her purpose was to wander the streets of New York shifting, shifting, shifting homes every time someone realized she wasn't...well, normal. She had been at the Pie Shop for a few months now, which was actually pretty long. Not to mention the number of times she'd almost been caught as she either fell through the ceiling, or stepped through the wrong door at the worng time. Her life had no purpose other than to avoid people. Not exactly the greatest purpose in the world.

The performer ended, and she listened as the grown croud applauded, and watched them walk away. Some threw money into the open case, and she wished she had something to give him. Alas, she was as broke as a dropped vase. She did, however, stay put. She was feeling outgoing today, and decide to attempt conversation with this young man. She looked him up and down, analyzing his apperance. Cute, but not her type. But, no harm in talking, right? Only if I happen is phase out and sink into the ground... she thought rather bitterly, frowning slightly. I know these powers are a gift, grandpa, but, they are also a curse! If only people were not so cruel and judgemental. They are to quick to attck the unknown, Cat thought, mind racing with images of the past, of her dream, and of memories.

Her mind was so full, she almost did not catch his words. She snapped out of her angry and bitter trance and looked up at him with a smile. She didn't, however, move from her rather comfortable position on the ground. "Oh, um, I just wanted to say you are pretty good. How long have you been playing?" Cat asked, her sour frown caused by the thinking now replaced with her warm friendly smile. That smile was the same exact one she used to have all the time. the same one she had before she life ended. The same one that now appeared so rarely, if anyone knew her well enough they'd freak out. Yeah, she didn't smile much anymore.

Just like so many things, her smile was virtually lost under the depression, lonliness, and confusion Catherine now embodied. Luckily for her, it did not matter much. No one cares about a little runaway who had circumstances surrounding her running like she did. So many teens wish for the freedom she had, so many people wish for the lack of responsibility that Cat had, some people even wished they could vanish from the face of the earth like her. Well, if she ever met those people she'd tell them that this life sucks. No one wants to be alone, not really.

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

[capsicle]

❦xxjσѕнυαxxxxjαςƙѕσиxxxxтιεмαииxx❦ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"xxit's jackson to youxx"xxxxxxxx

flat on my f a c e
i can't keep p a c e
but someday i'll be on t o p
high above y o u all
in spite of my h i s to r y, this is me

outcastWell, the girl totally had been in her own world for a minute, and didn't realize Jackson had said anything. Not a surprise; many people didn't take notice of when Jackson was talking to them. Though, that was New York; people were assholes here, and didn't care about another person on the street because they feared that you were going to do something to them. And though Jackson wouldn't do anything unless he felt the need to, he could definitely do something if he wanted, too. He'd been close a few times to actually showing his 'true' self to some people, but thankfully, had gotten himself under control, and all was right with the world. Well, for those pesky human beings, that is.

outcastFor a while now, Jackson didn't consider himself one of them because, he wasn't. He was different, and he had powers. For God's sake, he could control fire and throw fire balls at people if he really wished. That was no where near being a human; that was being a freak, and freaks weren't humans. Well, a freak like him wasn't human, but it wasn't like he wasn't a human being either. He could die, or at least, he figured he could die, but he did have a high chance of survival since he could fight back, no weapons needed. But, he was still human in that sense, and he still could feel, but he just, had this special ability that he considered un-human, and different. He wasn't like those people - those cruel, rude assholes that he saw walking down the street everyday. He just wasn't.

outcastJackson leaned back against the bench, and laid his arms across the back. He looked down at the girl, cigarette dangling from his lips. "Thanks," he mumbled between the cigarette, and looked out over the crowd that was milling about the park on this sunny day. Jackson hated the sun, especially today since it seemed exceptionally bright and he didn't bring his sunglasses with him. The black-haired male pulled the cigarette from his lips, and let a puff of gray smoke escape them as he squinted his hazel eyes, and looked away from the sun. "I've been playing since I was five," he answered shortly. Short answers were the quickest, and he hoped that by giving short answers, the girl might leave. Sure, it was nice to have somebody's company, but Jackson didn't trust people, and even though this girl might be really sweet, and trustworthy, he wasn't one to jump to conclusions. And, after being in New York for a year now, he had learned to be wary of people; there were some sneaky people in New York, and you had to keep your eyes open constantly.

outcastGiving the girl a look over, he was pretty sure she didn't have anyone, and that she was a loner like himself. Maybe not homeless, but she was probably from a dingy part of town, or lived in some dingy little place. He wasn't sure, he he got that feeling from her, plus he could see it in her eyes. Jackson had always been good at ready people, and he could tell she felt lonely, and was probably even depressed with the live she was living. She was young, and in New York, what did she expect? That everything would be easy? Life wasn't easy, that's for sure. And, that smile? Total bullshit. He could see the way her mouth was pulled tightly at the corners, giving it away that she was just pulling off this smile to make herself look like she was happy. Or, that she gave a s**t about him - a homeless street performer who was a freak.

outcastThe black-haired male placed the cigarette back to his lips, and leaned his head back, eyes closed to block out the sun. "You know, if you're not really that interested in a person, you don't have to start up a conversation with them," he told her, voice slightly mumbled by the cigarette in his mouth, but he was pretty sure she could still hear him. He took a drag, and pulled the cigarette from his lips, and tapped some ashes off of it. "Because really, I'd rather you leave me alone then." It was true. If this girl was trying to talk to him because she felt bad for him, she could forget to talking to him. Hell, she could forget it anyway - he wasn't in the mood to talk anyway, nor did he want to talk to some random girl who just happened to take pity on him, or whatever the ******** she thought.

i've got no farther left to fall

[0 V I P A R 0 U S]

»┊ crickєt ┊«
Clouds are m a r c h i n g along, singing a song, just like they do.
If the clouds were s i n g i n g a song, I'd sing along, wouldn't you too?
If you just knew what they c o u l d do.
Oh, if you j u s t knew, what would they do?
And if the birds are just h o l l o w words flying along, singing a song,
What w o u l d they do?
If t h e y just knew what they could do.
Oh, if they just k n e w.

At first, Cricket thought that she had offended the girl. When she raised up her hands in a defensive motion, Cricket thought that she was going to get hurt. She didn’t know anything about that person, and a giggle escaped from her lips when she asked her if that was her father. It only made her head hurt more, and more as she felt nervous. The girl sitting there thought that she could take her, and to tell you the truth, she could probably take her with just a simple punch.

Cricket sighed, deciding that she made the wrong choice by introducing herself. She head music playing, she hadn’t even realized the other person that had walked into the park with abilities. She turned her head towards him, he was getting money from everyone that passed by. He did play very well, Cricket would have given her some of her money if she wasn’t so possessive over it.

Then, another girl joined him. They carried on a small conversation, but he didn’t look too happy about the whole thing. Not only that, but she could feel it. The other girls mind was caring off to some other place, thinking of something else that Cricket caught. Judging by her thoughts, she was a phase shifter. Someone that could go through the ground or any solid object. Man, that would be awesome.

The girl looked like she was being suddenly killed, Cricket could feel her own headache coming from the girl. So, she had the ability to mimic other people’s abilities. So, was Cricket the only one with a pointless gift. Where she couldn’t do anything physical, or even lift up a text book.

Her attention was back on the boy and the girl. She was watching them, hoping to get away from the girl before Cricket some how offended her again and end up dying in this very park. She was afraid to sit next to her, and the cat was taking up her spot now.

Then, Cricket heard her name.

Out of instinct, Cricket turned her head towards the girl, and replied with, “Huh?” Cricket felt stupid, then. No one had called her name in awhile, so it was like having your name called out loud. She broke the habit of just turning towards someone when they thought her name. Now she was replying? Another habit to break.

Cricket felt like slapping herself then, the girl had thought her name, she didn’t say it out loud, and Cricket responded. She was caught, but she got lucky that is was someone else with a power.

A sigh slipped her lips, the headache had only gotten worst from getting confused, then that feeling of getting caught, then more confusion followed by everyone else’s emotions pouring at her. Would she have to live with this for the rest of her life?

“In case you haven’t noticed, I am Cricket.” Cricket smiled, the girl only had to think her name. Cricket had never tried hacking into animals heads . . . Maybe the cat thought human thoughts? Was that even possible?

Maybe if she just tried, she would learn something else. Cricket closed her eyes, focusing on the cat, then her head start to pulse and her head was filled with the past foods that the cat had eaten. What the cat missed eating, where the cat slept, everything. Cricket’s eyes flashed open immediately, she would never try that again.

The headache was only get worst, maybe if she didn’t try such a stunt. “Ugh,” Cricket rubbed her temples, her head, what horrible headaches. “How did you like the headache?” Cricket asked the girl, she knew that she wouldn’t like them. They would only be worst for her, judging by the way she wasn’t used to the headaches like Cricket was.

She couldn’t even say that she was used to the headaches. They only got worst as it was, but she was getting used to them over time.

Cricket decided to sit down, there was room enough for the both of them, she hadn’t realized before. “I wouldn’t worry about the hot dog thing, I’ve done my share.” Cricket admitted. She hadn’t talked to anyone in so long, and she felt so talkative. She didn’t even have a cat to talk to.

What did the girl feel? Judging by her feelings, and what she was seeing, she had mimicked her. Not only that, but she thought her name even though she didn’t tell the girl her name. Cricket didn’t need to worry about explaining herself as much, she had seen somewhat of what Cricket could do, but not all.

Unintentionally, Cricket’s fingers touched the girls skin, sending her into a vision. Yeah, that was the last thing that she wanted to do, was be sent into a vision when she was sitting right next to the girl.


THE VISION


It was something in the past, something that happened before the girl was sitting here in New York City. Canada? That’s what it looked like, someone through something at her. Something big, the girl scream the name ‘Devon‘.

It looked like an oil lamp, the oil lamp was hurling towards the girl, and she was too slow. It hit her in the arm and tore her arm open. Leaving a scar. Someone came running up to her, yelling the name ‘Ronnie‘.



BOO


Cricket flashed back to reality, she didn’t realize that she could see back into the future. Cricket had touched a scar. So her name was Ronnie, that much she knew. She got the scar on her arm form an oil lamp being thrown at her by someone named Devon. How interesting. They looked related, maybe brother and sister.

Looking back into the future seemed cool. Touching a scar did that, or a bruise, or any type of wound. Cricket learned something new, but it wasn’t like it was any fun.

The headaches seemed to come in handy, they where there to clear up her visions, or everyone else’s thoughts, or their emotions. That’s why she had these constant headaches that just didn’t want to go away. At least they came in handy sometimes.