So, they’ve done it again. By now, I’m used to it- they can’t faze me any more than they’ve already done. I think I’m getting over the original shock of seeing them again, for almost the first time in thirteen years.

My fingers are still smoking as I shove them into my jeans pocket when I hear my daughter coming in. God, I love her. I don’t know what I’d do without her, coping with my “little problem” by myself, with no one close. But now is not exactly the perfect time to see her. “Hey, Mom,” she says, dumping her school stuff on the floor and running over to me.

Before she can give me a hug, I say, “Hey, hon. Why don’t you go get yourself a snack?”

Nodding happily, she rushed of to the kitchen, leaving me in the living room to check my smoldering fingers. They still feel tingly- that feeling that I hadn’t felt since I was fifteen- but otherwise, they’re fine. I sink down onto the living room floor, exhausted from the day. Today they showed me something that I’d promised myself I’d never think about again- it was too painful, too wrenching. But now-and for over an hour it’s been this way-every time I close my eyes, the memory comes flowing back.

Fifteen- my age of epiphany. I loved who I was at fifteen- hair spiky and shored, dyed pink and black, and piercings in my tongue and navel. People tended to steer clear of me; I think they were scared. That was fine with me. I had my own friends- no one else could see them, but they were there. I remember how they’d come to my window every night, and, like a shadow, I’d slip out and into the dark air with them. There were three girls- all rejects, like me. The four of us would congregate and flow together in the sky- we all had some of the old Yore in us- we knew the ways of the spirit worlds. We would be together, but there was always something there, nagging at us. We’d never been able to figure out what it was- but we saw its face that night.

One of my friends had whispered something to me about being summoned to an alley somewhere in the bad part of town, and refused to tell me why. It was obviously nothing good, though, and I was nervous. But no amount of nervousness could possibly have prepared me for what happened.

We set down in the alley, and my friend told me that “They said that they’d be here soon- we have to wait here.” Five minutes later, a huge roar echoed down the alley, and from around the corner came a gigantic, bulky, muscular man. He was about seven feet tall, and very strongly resembled a bull. Screaming, we all leaped up and started to run away as fast as we could.

“Oh no, you don’t!” He leaped up into the air- surprisingly agile- and landed right in front of me. “You- take this.” He handed me a small bundle that was tightly wrapped up in a blanket.

“Why?” I managed to squeak out. “What is this?”

He didn’t answer- he just took a match out of his pocket, lit it, and threw it on the ground, causing the area around him to burst into flames. I screamed and jumped back, just in time to see him disappear in a huge cloud of smoke.

Turning to see if my friends were all right, I realized that they had, apparently, vanished. And I hadn’t seen them again since last week. All I had left of them was what was in that bundle- and she was in the kitchen, helping herself to some Chips Ahoy and milk.

Author's Note: This is part of a writing experiment that will span seven chapters. More information in user look-up, please review. Chapter titles will be names of who wrote the peice. Info on how to contact them can be seen on the user profile