My breathing is controlled, but all the fear and anger within me. Fear is too simple a word. Terror. That's what I feel.

I don't know why I still feel this pit in my stomach whenever I get a moment to think. I know what the pit is, too; I feel lonely. But I'm not alone, I keep telling myself.

During the fire: 'Some of the drunker ones don't move. Some of them laugh. One person says, "Where's the marshmallows?" Mark slaps him across the face. "GET OUT!" he screams.

Nine, now eight. Are the rest of you out there?

One of the gifts our planet gave us is to love completely. Without jealousy or insecurity or fear. Without pettiness. Without anger.

A place is only as good as the people in it.

I'll come back to you," I say. "I promise you, if it's the last thing I do, I'll come back to you." Her face is buried in my neck. She nods. "I'll count the minutes until you do." she says.