Mia and John sat by the stones, and no one noticed them.

"You shouldn't be here." John explained.

"My dad's hated here, so what? I need to know the truth."

John ducked under a tree, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Your dad is traced back to you. His enemies are yours now."

"You mean people want to kill me?"

"Just people you're dad took from." John said quietly, a blur against the dark stones.

Mia looked at him, incredulous. "It could be any of these people."

She looked around, and saw people through windows, walking through the streets,

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.

"Are you my mom?" she would ask to the passersby.

Some people would stop and inquire if she was lost, but she would just shake her head.

Some people would offer to take the girl with them to the police, but she would just run away down a narrow alley where they couldn't follow.

Most people would just ignore her and her perfect, shining red gown, taking her for some unlucky trickster.

But one day, a young woman came down the street, her eyes veiled in...

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She pulled the book off the shelfe and flip over a few pages. The images were beautiful, the paper such a wonderful quality. She stroked it with her fingertips, feeling the inc on the page. What a book. So old yet in such good shape. The language was unknown to her, some form of chinese maybe. She could fing no price on it. WHat were the odds that she would be able to afford such a gem? She put it back and ambled through the store. Nothing else spoke to her. Finally she went back for the book and brought...

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all alone. all alone forever. all by myself. I am the last left of my family. the last splotch of colour in the green. the last of my kind the others say. I should just drown myself in the lake. I swim to the bottom and wait for the darkness to overtake me. but then i remember i am a fish, i can't drown. I have an idea. I swim to the surface and leap out of the water. The seagull takes me in its mouth and swallows. Now the darkness comes. Now I am dead.

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It's not easy being funny.

People expect things of you. They come to you down in the mouth, looking for a laugh. Most of the time you can oblige them, but it's hard creating something from nothing. I'm not a music box that you can wind up and expect to hear a tune. At least say "please."

I guess it comes from watching too much television. Sitcoms really mold a kid who spends half his day on the couch. That, and a willingness to tell the truth to people's faces.

Anyway, it's easy to ask for a laugh. It's just...

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Rose stopped short, skidding slightly along the crumbly, dusty mountain path on which she had been jogging, happily listening to her music, enjoying the warmth of the day on her back. She blinked a few times, tried to catch her breath, and then walked back a few feet to where she had thought she had seen the strange sight, the one that had stopped her morning run rather abruptly.

And there it still was. Two enormous pink butterflies playing together in the sunshine, flitting back and forth, their wings glinting, both beautiful.

Rose watched for some time, unable to believe...

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100 feet away. He is only a hundred feet away. That's all the distance that I would need to cross to be in his arms, to be able to kiss him, to find the comfort that I am missing and to feel safe.

A hundred feet.

I have never wanted to move so much in my entire life.

He knows me. It has only been a few weeks and yet I feel it, He Knows Me.

He knows that when I'm unhappy I need to write, he knows that I believe in God for the small things not what they...

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There was blood on my pillow. A lot of blood. A ton of blood. Where did it come from? It seemed to be dripping from somewhere. I looked up. The celing was dry. I looked around, I felt my own face, hair, ears, nose...all dry. What the h*ll was going on? Then, I heard something. A step. Two steps. Steps moving across the wood floor near the staircase downstairs. Was this the source of the blood? Was it the cause of the blood? Am I next? I was not injured, but I was still terrifyed. Suddenly, something came bounding around...

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It is muddy. I went for a walk and there was mud everywhere. Even in the woods, which are supposed to be haunted, But I dont care. I am suicidal so if I get killed by a ghost or a goblin, it's no skin off my back.

I entered the forest and I got mud all over my slippers. Up ahead there was an animated scarecrow holding a scythe. "Hello," I said. The scarecrow cut off both my legs. Blood flew everywhere. But then my stumps started to itch and throb and vibrate. From them grew pogo sticks. My legs...

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She was the most delicate girl in town. A town that thrived on beauty. It was everything, and so was she. When I first met her, we were on a field trip in 6th grade. Back then, she wasn't even wearing make up yet. A completely different person. So, of course I was nervous when I woke up next to her.

"What are you thinking?", she asked me. I didn't know what to say. All I felt was shame. "Didn't you like it?" "I did."I lied. "So, what's the problem? I know you wanted me since high school." "Yeah, but...

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