I'm finding a ton of these old written pieces I've had to do for my English classes. This one is from nearly two years ago (me and my 15-year-old sophomore self). We had to pair up with a friend in our class and create some form of art that was fictitious and entirely about them in an abstract way. We had to highlight their good features, include their bad, and make it interesting. My close friend at the time was born blind, had immense talent in the writing, singing, theatrical, and instrumental arts, and was the perfect person to compete with writing-wise. Enjoy!

One reason was all she needed to dislike Satya. Amidst a city such as Satya, she had her fair easy pick from a variety of reasons why she should dislike it.

Blame it on the tall thick pillars of curling black smog that futilely stretched upward to reach the heavens.

Blame it on the multitude of automobiles patrolling the streets by the hundreds of thousands per block, each blowing clouds of heavy smelly smoke that slithered beneath other cars and wove their way into people's lungs where it would settle and remain till their last breaths.

Blame it on the mass of bodies that scattered the streets, each a product of a failed economy and a government lacking to care for its people.

Blame it on whatever you like for one could blame her dislike of this city on either of those things among a hundred more. No matter the repulsiveness of the venue, however, - and goddess Alejandra knew just how fiercely she wanted to march right up to the Council's Corridor and give them a less-than-polite piece of her mind pertaining to the care the city actually required – she knew her next visit to Satya would be very far into the future.

Her career had been the reason why she'd needed to go to Satya in the first place. She'd received a message from a client's family in the polluted city stating that her healing powers were required without delay. She had burned the note, as was a necessary step in her line of work, and had donned her cloak and bag.

She was off towards Satya with processing brain and a horde of crimson spiritual power converging at her fingertips. For someone of her prowess the job she'd had to complete was the equivalent of a short-lived stay in her least favorite place on the planet and the usage of some of the power that would eventually cause harm to her if not used frequently enough, often leaving her on self-prescribed bed rest for two weeks at home.

And home was where she was headed to now; her comfy little cabin situated right on the warm sand of the Ausica Sea's beach, overlooking the deep cerulean and indigo of the never-ending expanse of water. She would arrive home, open up for the day, deal with the accumulation of helpless people in desire of a quick fix to all of their problems, and separate her day's earnings into her savings and usable cash safes.

From her position on the sand dune a quarter mile from her home, she could sense the initial gathering of her early bird customers waiting outside of her door. With a heavy sigh, she increased her pace by the slightest step and straightened her shoulders, making her seem graceful and intimidating to all who laid eyes on her.

Within a few minutes she was walking on the sand outside her home, allowing the scratchy heat to surround her after her long journey before she began work. Accustomed to her rules, her clients remained silent outside and waited silently for their turn to go inside. As a part of routine, she ignored the "quiet" complaints from the tag-alongs of seasoned customers.

"How is she supposed to see my future?" they cried, voices whiny and snobbish. "She can't even see at all!"


Once inside the safety of her home, she let her fingers drift over the heavy lavish fabrics that decorated the main room. Following the soft red and purple silks and the lush pink and blue tapestries, she found her cushioned chair and sat down, hands finding their familiar position atop the clear crystal ball centered on the tribal cloth-clad table.

"Enter," she called, voice untouched by accent yet undeniably feminine and pleasant to the ears.

A shuffling was heard as her first customer swept away the cloth that served as a door to the small home. A crumple of paper was heard and the woman who entered deposited the visit's pay on the table in front of her before she took her seat across from the girl. Unseeing eyes raked over the figure before her and with a nod, the ritual began.

"Place your desired hand on the top of the crystal and speak your question."

The woman swallowed audibly and positioned her right hand –no one ever seemed to put down their left- atop the crystal ball.

"The baby is dead, according to the doctors. Or it's dying, at least," the woman said in a tone that would send shivers down anyone's spine.

There was silence as the communication swept through the area. The girl's spiritual power clamped onto the information and transferred it into the crystal ball. Those same unseeing eyes gazed downward at the clear ball as it became foggier, an essence swirling inside of it. Bursts of color flashed before the two sets of eyes as the air outside of the ball dropped ten degrees in temperature. Small shocks of power traveled through the ball and into the arms of the client and a sort of wind picked up inside of the home, blasting in waves from the ball.

There was the sound of wind hitting glass, a hollow noise, and then a sort of shrieking sound that grew louder with each second. It grew louder and louder until the sound pierced their ears, yet the girl didn't move an inch while the woman seemed to cave in from the pressure. And then finally it stopped. Silence filled their ears for a few moments before the girl sighed and the woman started to straighten.

"The baby will be born with a heart problem," the girl stated and the woman gasped in fear of the predicted death, "but he will grow and live. He won't die. He'll survive."

This was how the rest of the day went. More people came, deposited their money, and then went through similar reactions to their questions. Some came with questions and left with pleasing answers, others arrived with problems and left with fears. One by one, the line outside dwindled until there were no more people left and the sun had just begun to set, coating the trembling seawater with scarlet and orange and magenta hues.

She cleared her things and placed her money in the safe beneath the table and ventured out onto the beach, inhaling the salty sea air and relishing in the calming effect it had on her. While the sunlight still burned her eyes, making her squint, she sometimes wished she could see only just to see the water. For five seconds of sight, she'd give all her money and all of her powers to simply see the ocean. The sounds it made were beautiful to her oversensitive ears and she envisioned it to be even more beautiful in picture.


The girl tensed suddenly at the voice she heard. Her senses lashed out, feeling at the person who had managed to surprise her, much to her chagrin. Rather than the normal gasp that came with the feeling from her "victim", she found a similar aura pushing right back at her. She could sense the smirk and raised brow from the female of similar age standing a few yards away and felt the familiar feeling of anger furl in her stomach.

'Great,' she thought, aggravated, 'another ignorant person out to have fun at my expense.'

"In case you couldn't see, I'm closed for the day," the blind girl barked irritably.

She'd expected some sort of insult or comment, maybe even a disappearance of the other girl, but what she got was laughter. It was a low giggle, withheld by a hand over her mouth, but it was still not what she had been expecting.

"Are you laughing at me?" the girl asked, anger now apparent in her voice as her fists clenched in a threatening manner.

"I don't know," the other girl replied between giggles. "And if I am, doesn't change my reason for being here, nor does it excuse you from listening to what I've got to say to you."

Bristling on the inside, she wanted nothing more to do than to send a shock of energy at this girl and knock her out, but she was used to people like this; she was used to people making fun of her without even saying anything and she was used to people getting ready to use her for their own benefit; she could handle this like she always did.

"I ain't got to listen to anything you've got to say."

"On the contrary, Allison of the Brady Clan, I do believe you'd like to have a friend, and friendship is what I'm offering," the other girl responded with a flick of her short red and silver hair.

The girl scoffed at the absurd offer, her spiritual energy flaring. "Friends? With you? Don't be ridiculous! What need have I for a friend?"

The redhead gave a shrug, taking no care that the girl with the hot pink hair ahead of her was blind and wouldn't be able to see it. Her spiritual energy was remaining the same cool and calm as it had been since she'd first appeared.

"I'll be back again tomorrow with the same question."

There was a poof and all the tense spiritual energy disappeared, leaving Allison to wonder what had just happened and to force herself to calm down before she did anything irrational. There was something incredibly wrong about what had just happened.

A friend. Someone had wanted to be friends with her? She snorted in ironic amusement. Yeah, how many times had she heard that before she was tossed aside. All use and no return. That was her life story.

But this girl was somewhat different from the others she'd dealt with before. First off, she knew who she was beforehand, and which clan she was from. She had spiritual power that ranked right up next to her own, 'and if felt like a black and white, too, which means I should be very weary but I might be able to trust- wait, no!'. She'd acted like she hadn't even known she was blind and her power had remained at a constant level the entire time, never once increasing in a threat or response to her own threatening fury-powered stance.

With a shake of her hot pink head, Allison decided she would push it all to the back of her head and go inside. It was an illusion, a mere hallucination of what she'd always wished she could have. As she headed back inside, thoughts of the next day plaguing her thoughts, she couldn't help but continue to think of how nice it would be to have a friend.

The next day, the routine went through as usual. She took clients, predicted fortunes, solved problems, sold magical solutions, and earned money to save and put towards her rescue funds for the people in Satya who deserved better than street corner naps and disease-infested dumpster meals. The sun was near setting and she'd finished early and had prepared her favorite meal of fettuccine alfredo.

As she slurped up the last of her noodles, she felt a familiar presence approaching her home. Her dish slipped from her hands with a clatter and she hurriedly wiped away the remnants of her meal from her mouth, that familiar feeling of anger burning in her stomach once again.

Rising from her seat, she let her silks and furs guide her to the door and left her cabin. Her appearance made the red and silver haired girl halt and another smile became plastered over her face.

"Have you considered my question yet?" she asked, reaching up to twirl a bit of her multicolored hair around her index finger.

Allison rolled her grey-blue eyes and crossed her arms over her stomach. The glare she directed at the nameless female was as intense as the rage boiling and churning in her stomach.

"I gave you my answer yesterday. Now get off of my property before I make you!" she snapped, slamming a fist into her open palm with a resounding smack to serve as a warning that she wasn't fooling around.

"Is that right? Well, I actually find this place quite comfy and I intend to stay until I receive the answer I desire," the nameless girl toyed, crossing her arms over her chest in a similar fashion and cocking her head to the side, putting her weight on one leg.

'She's doing it again!' Allison fumed internally, spiritual energy built up so tightly she feared it would explode and destroy everything within a ten mile radius. That destructive part of her had been popping up more and more lately and was becoming increasingly difficult to quell.

"Well then you'll be waiting forever because I'd never want to be friends with the likes of you!" Allison screeched defensively, and the fury nearly slipped when she heard the girl laughing again. "Why do you keep laughing at me!"

"I'll be back again tomorrow."

And the girl was gone, one again, without dropping a name. She'd only managed to increase the anger inside of Allison, but she'd also increased the want for a friend in her as well, albeit unwillingly.

Every day at sunset for the next two weeks, the girl without a name – 'The Pain' as Allison had dubbed her – would come back and offer Allison her friendship only to be turned down. She talked about her dreams for the future and her likes and dislikes despite Allison's constant yelling at her to leave.

As the days passed, Allison could start to sense the girl frowning slightly each time she left and almost considered asking her to stay, but she'd catch herself in time. She'd remind herself that she didn't need friends. They'd only hurt her and use her and pretend like she didn't exist. She was a tool for benefit that wasn't her own and an object of convenient self-promotion to others.

Feh, she could damn well take care of herself!

But her resolve was breaking whether she'd like to admit it or not. She was breaking down, her walls melting bit by bit at the constant efforts of this unnamed girl who seemed so similar to her. It had crossed her mind more than once in the past weeks that the chances of her having the same powers and the same sorts of ideals and knowledge meant she'd also have the same sort of history as she did.

That night she'd gone to give herself a reading. When she placed her hands on the crystal ball, she could feel the familiar pouring of her energy into it and the recoil of outer-dimension being forcing itself into a readable fortune. The wind picked up and died, and the image of fog surrounding a flaming black tower and an alter girl dressed in white stole her breath.

The next day, she awoke to the sound of hooves beating at the floor of her home. She groggily sat up in bed, smoothing back her hot pink hair, and sent out her spiritual power to feel for the creature that had gotten into her home.

When she touched it, she found it had a barrier of spiritual power emanating off of it, black and white just like The Pain. And thinking of the The Pain, she was sitting at the table!

She hurriedly rose from her tangled sheets and slid her feet into her favorite pair of fluffy pink slippers. Stomping her way into the next room of her small home, she inhaled a great breath, held it, and prepared to yell that she'd had enough of this, that the joke had gone too far, and that she was going to cause physical harm to the girl if she even saw –yes, saw – her again.

She didn't get the chance to, however.

"I was almost raped three times in my life," the red and silver haired girl stated calmly, lifeless swamp green eyes staring straight at the grey-blue ones of Allison.

The surprise of the statement sent all the emotion inside of Allison down in a swirl of something akin to guilt.

"When I was a child, my parents were always gone. My brother and I were raised by strangers, foreigners. The only times I ever saw my parents were when they were fighting with my brother right in front of me. I can't forget the screams. I can't forget the violence. The harassment I suffered from childhood to recently was enough to send me into fits of depression, nearly to commit suicide a handful of times."

Allison didn't understand what the girl was talking about. She was reciting things of trauma, things that she knew fairly well in her own past. But why? Had the joke gotten so far that she was going to pretend to understand this pain inside as well?

"When no one is there to help you, and you're surrounded by people but they all see you as an invisible when you're brimming with talent you can never share? I know that. When getting up in the morning is more difficult than wanting to stab yourself in the arm because you know the pain is more bearable than the treatment from the people who prance around and make you suffer for their enjoyment? It's all too familiar. And when you think you've found someone to trust and you tell them everything because you think they'll stay by your side only for them to use everything they've heard against you? Be used and receive nothing in return. It's my life story," she reflected.

The calmness of her voice made the entire speech eerie. Allison couldn't believe what she'd heard.

'Be used and receive nothing in return. It's my life story.'

It couldn't be true. She was really just messing with her, right? She was pretending to know what real pain felt like. She was faking the feeling of regret and torment and playing on her emotions so she could get close too and then get what she wanted. She would toss her aside when she was done and laugh, say how pathetic she was for believing her and thinking she was worth enough to be anyone's friend.

'You're just some blind girl, after all. There was nothing special about you, you idiot,' she'd say. She'd make her life miserable, just like everyone else. She'd pretend and lie and scheme, do everything in her power to make her even more messed up than she already was.

"Don't tell me you're going to pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about," the girl retorted to Allison's silence, her voice, tone, and persona still that alarming calm and collected composition.

Allison heard the girl move and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the burden and pressure of emotion from her. The thoughts whizzing inside the girl's head were now frantically drawing her in inside of her own head. Images and flashes of a girl with black hair being beaten up by students and teachers not stopping to help; cries of pain and tears, so many tears put away in little jars; fights and thoughts of suicide; knives and blades bloodied; an imagination equal to her own being suppressed just to survive to the next day.

She felt it all, the pain and torment and the brief moments of happiness that never seemed to last long enough to make the hollowness go away.

And then it was all gone, sucked out of her head and leaving her sprawled on the floor in a heap of tears. The nameless girl was still sitting at the table, hands folded over her lap, still unruffled.

The only sounds to be heard were the sobs coming from Allison as an aftereffect of the spell the girl had just performed and the shuffles of the creature's hooves.

"If you still believe I'm trying to set you up, then perhaps I was wrong about you."

Allison's sobbing began to calm down until she was simply sniffling. The girl wasn't surprised that she'd overcome the aftereffects so quickly. A girl with as much pain, if not more, than her own would be used to the onslaught of torment and the share of tears that came with it.

A normal person would be curled up in a ball, sobbing and crying for hours, in some cases even days before they finally calmed down. They wouldn't be able to handle it all. No one ever could.

But Allison was the one, she knew it.

When the girl saw Allison had finished, she stood and walked the few steps over to the girl slumped on the floor. She bent over and held out her hand, spiritual energy reaching out to touch Allison's hand. There was nothing spoken between the two verbally.

What made the pink haired girl push aside her fears and reach up her hand, latching on to the solid source in front of her and sealing her fate, was a single phrase spoken from the girl into Allison's head:

'Trust me.'

This is around two years old. I kind of feel like I was a better writer two years ago than I am now. (I shall now proceed to laugh at myself.)

Review please? Thanks! =]