My breathing slowed. I shaded her thick chestnut hair resting in a smooth curve against her face, a large bruise blazing across her cheek. I paused, looking over my shoulder to make certain I was alone. I drew her eye makeup, smudged by tears. In her watery eyes I drew the reflection of the commander, standing in front of her, his fist clenched. I continued to sketch, exhaled, and shook out my hands.

I planted a seed of hatred in my heart. I swore it would grow to be a massive tree whose roots would strangle them all.

I leapt eagerly into books. The characters’ lives were so much more interesting than the lonely heartbeat of my own.

If I poured all the lies I had told into the Mississippi, the river would rise and flood the city.

We'd been trying to touch the sky from the bottom of the ocean.

We'd been trying to touch the sky from the bottom of the ocean. I realized that if we boosted one another, maybe we'd get a little closer.

Mrs. Rimas cried at the mention of the wafer and the traditional Christmas blessing. "God grant that we are all together again next year.