PART 1 (Glass)
The glass falls upon me, a veil of pain and scratches. Crimson curtains slide over my vision.
I lift my slender hand and wipe blood, and watch each single drop slither down my arm, leaving a trail of red.
A shout. Gunshots. More shouts. A scream. A wail. Sirens. Loud thuds.
A black figure crashes into my side, knocking me against the wall. With my left hand, I grab it. It tries to get out of my grip, but I will myself to hold on forever.
Holding onto it, I finally realize that I’m clutching to a person. Male. He attempts to jerk away, but I dig my fingers into the cloth.
“Please, please let me go. I need to get this medicine for my father,” he pleaded. His blue eyes glowed with desperation.
“And you do that by terrorizing people? By breaking into the building? Why do you just hurt people?” I ask sharply. I shove my hand across my eyes, clearing my vision of scarlet.
He closes his eyes, and reopens them. “I was out of money, and I was so scared. Please, just let me go.”
This man seems so sincere. If I turned him in, maybe he would spend some time in jail, but the people would take care of him and his father. If I didn’t, then he would spend the rest of his life knowing he stole and vandalized.
“No. If you’re turned in, tell them the truth, and they will help you. You may spend some time in jail, but you will be helped.”
He shook his head, and his left arm, the one I wasn’t grasping, reached behind him. I stiffened. With my free hand, I tucked my long, brown hair- now semi-crusty and gross- back behind my ear.
He pulls out a pistol, and presses it to my chest.
“Just let me go!!!” he shouts.
“Sh-shoot me.”
“No, please just let me go. Please.”
“I-if you’re not going to shoot me, then I won’t m-move,” I stutter.
He pressed the hammer down. I flinch at the click.
I look at him, face placid. I try not to flutter my eyelashes at the dripping blood. He doesn’t know, but my heart is poundingbooming. I’ve never been this close to a gun.
Pounding below us, barking of orders. The police are here.
“Please let me go,” he whispered.
I bite my lip. “Take off your mask.”
He does it without hesitation.
I’ve never been good at remembering faces. I’ve mixed my own mother up with my aunt. But looking at this thief, I know I’ll never forget his face.
Dirty blonde hair sweeps over his creamy complexion. Periwinkle eyes twinkle in the blinding streams of noon light. High cheekbones, slim face. Small nose and chin. Thick lips.
“If I find out that you’re committing more crimes, I will find you and send you to jail,” I say.
“Thank you,” he breathes. When I let go, he leans in toward me, and plants a kiss on my cheek.
My hand shoots out and slaps him. He grimaces and jumps out of the broken window. I don’t hear his landing.
The authorities burst into this room, sending the door smashing against the wall.
I don’t see. I hear. The world whirls around me, as if I’m only a spinning top for it to play with. Darkness reaches around me, reaching to submerge me, and I stay helplessly and watch the blood swirl with the abyss and shadows.
---
After I left the hospital and finished the interrogation, I couldn’t think straight anywhere near the pharmacy where I met the thief, so my boyfriend Rod offers to drive me out of the city. Glad he offered, I jumped into the car with him and he drove to the ocean. Not the flashy, bright beaches, but the small, remote areas with pebble sand and weak lapping waves.
We sit together, in front of the water, and hold each other tight. It’s cold, and I didn’t bring more than a thin jacket.
“You’re alright?” Rod asks, his fingertip tracing the scar that marks where the glass buried itself into my skin. His brown eyes twinkled with worry.
“Never been better,” I assure him, and when he looked doubtful, I leaned in and kissed him. “How was the math competition? I want to hear every question because I missed it.”
While Rod goes into details, my mind returns to my encounter with the thief. Soon, I find myself drifting in strange questions. Not only Did I do the right thing? or Was it okay to cut that little part out in the interrogation?, but questions like Will I ever see him again? and Are he and his father alright?
Rod finishes, grinning. “I won, but there’s going to be a final round since you were out. You against me.”
“Study,” I chuckle.
“No point. You’re going to win,” he laughs. I feel warmth creeping into me as Rod’s arm wraps around my waist.
“I might as well help you so you won’t look like a total idiot,” I joke.
He smirks. “If I’m a total idiot, then what are zombies?”
“Zombies.”
I didn’t say that. We turn to the direction of the stranger’s voice.
It was the thief.
He was dressed in a leather jacket, black pants, and boots. All black.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, curtly.
“Likewise.” All the safe feeling I had turned to nervousness.
Rod’s elbow digs in my rib cage as I feel his hot whisper in my ear. “Who’s this?” he hisses.
“I’m Skyler. You?”
“Millie. This is my boyfriend Rod.”
Quick handshake. Skyler plops down next to me, and asks, “Why you here today?”
“Couldn’t think.”
Rod looks at his watch, and I know it’s time to go. We were planning to leave later, but whatever, we can go somewhere else.
“Let’s go now,” I say to Rod. He nods, and we turn to leave. “See you.”
“See you.”
---
At the library, Rod had to go pick up books for his research, so I sat in the chairs, looking at my phone. I got a text from a strange number.

Hey Millie! This is Skyler. I’ll tell u how i got ur number later. Please respond so i know i didn't screw up

How did he get my number?! Well.

Hey Skyler. How did you get my number?

The response is eerily quick.

U were on the news, and I snagged your # off.

I scoff. If this was true, then he would’ve know my name.

Then you woulda known my name. Don’t lie. Please.

His response:

OK

I hear Rod’s footsteps in the next aisle.

I g2g k? B on later

“Millie?”
“Rod!” I smile.
He takes my hand, and whispers, “I love it when you smile like that.”
I smile wider.
---
We pull up in front of Rod’s house. At my house, I have absolutely no privacy, but here, I can blow something up without so much as a passing glance.
Rod’s room is massive. He could house five people in it with no problem. I make my way to his guest couch. It’s really cushy, you could fall asleep on it.
I collapse onto it, lying horizontally. I don’t know why, but although I slept eleven hours, I’m exhausted.
Rod sits by my head, his hands tracing the contour of my face. “You’re so beautiful,” he marvels.
I’ve learned that by denying it, I’m hurting him. But if I compliment him, he insists otherwise. So I keep quiet when he says that.
He leans down toward me, hands sliding down my side.
Twenty minutes later, the window’s pretty glass supports a cloth of water and dew. Words carve gaps into its sheen.
Him or me? they said.
---
After class, I sit in the library, finishing my homework. I won the math competition, but I wasn’t exactly content. There was something missing in my life.
What did I want?! I had everything I needed, everything anyone would ever need.
So why was there such a big hole in my life?
English homework was boring, and strange too. I dug into the text, but came out with nothing more than fragments of what we were supposed to get. I tried to make my own, but crumbled to pieces in my hold.
“Hello.”
My head shoots up, the voice vaguely familiar.
It’s Skyler.
“Hi.”
“You look annoyed. Something wrong?”
“English homework,” I groan.
“Can I help?” Without waiting for an answer, he leans over, propping his hand on the table. The heat rolls off his body in waves and melts into me, making me flush slightly.
“Have you ever thought of why the soliloquy is there? Dorothy Yin Wei was a very unique writer because of not only her unique background and but her amazing depth in her soliloquy.”
He then lifted a couple of my papers and read what was on them. Laughter burst from his mouth as he read my writing.
“Are you really in AP English? Cuz this will probably get you kicked.”
I frown. “It takes me a while, but in the end, I get it right.”
He smiles, a sweet curve of the lips. “Would you like to go to Smoke with me? I can help you with your homework.”
---
I lay on my bed, heart torn apart.