Luke took a few steps back and began to Charge at the Boundaries walls. When his Body collided with the wall, A great Electric sound rang threw the Air as the walls sparked and Exploded. Suddenly the wall disintegrated, and Embracing after the dust of the large event settled, were the Pirate and the princess.
I was told this very story by them, and I will tell this very story to the people I know, and they the people they know.  For alas was born the great story, in which love conquered distant Boundaries of two world.
The legend of boundarieless love

Chapter one

It was the 20th of septum. Which assumingly was once called September. The dim light of the world began to fade as the evening approached. I was mostly unconcerned about the time and more concerned about my writing. I kept somewhat of an Ideological diary, a place to secretly record my thoughts so I didn’t have to turn the ideas over and over in my head to remember them. I wrote by quill and berry ink, both are quite pricey around here since ink was hard to get and pencil faded away so easily on our parchment. For Parchment, we use sand paper; this special parchment was made by the sand around us. We mixed together sand and a stranger chemical with a long name I never could remember. Soon this mixture would lie out in the sun. I suppose the water evaporated from the chemical and what was left was the residue of the chemical and dissolved sand. It was much like glass however they usually added some sort of dye before they left it out to keep it from turning translucent. Soon the glass like thin sheets would be cut. They were thin and limp, almost like Plastic. This is why we used berry ink, it would stain the paper, and this would make it easier to write and more permanent. The cover of my Diary I had made myself. I carved it out of old wood from an abandoned house not too far from my own. I carved careful designs on it and then filled the carvings with glass; this would make it more durable. I finally added a lock, from where a key hung from my neck. I suppose the day that this all began; I forgot to lock my little diary. That day I heard a customer enter my shop and it made me jump in my seat, I suppose I just rushed out. When I entered the “parlor” of my shop I came face to face with Master Guia and his wife, he was from the guild but I had happened to take a liking to his personality. He was kind and quite handsome with his tan skin and golden hair, he always seemed to smile. It was his little wife I loathed She was small, skinny with large black eyes and matching black hair. She was Rude and Absolutely nosey, I always found her complaining about how my work was better when I did a piece of furniture for someone else or she would stop by when they had ordered furniture to hover over me as I worked on their order. Maybe I would do better if their wasn’t so much yakking in my ear. On this specific day, Master Guia had forgotten four days earlier to check a trunk he had ordered a few days ago and pick it up if it was to his liking. There was only once that it wasn’t to his liking, but that was mostly because of mistress Guia’s nagging. Why did he even marry her anyway? I lead master Guia to the back to he could inspect the trunk, it took me a little while to pull it out and when I turned around I realized mistress Guia was not with him. “Where’s the miss?” I asked as I stepped away from the detailed trunk, “I told her to stay in the lobby today since the trunk is not for her” he had explained. It reminded me that she hadn’t been over my shoulder for almost 2 months. I probably should have check on her as Master Guia looked over the trunk. For that night would become my worst nightmare coming into the light of reality beneath my own nose. Dawn was reaching the hills the brighter dimness helped us differentiate night from day. I was asleep in the burlap blanket that had been used so many times it grew limp and soft but almost completely worthless. It was a click, like dropping plastic on a table that had awoken me. I shot up, sitting straight in my bed and glancing around soon I just took a deep breath and let myself settle. I had been having these terrible dreams lately consisting of a shadowy figure and cries of betrayal. I never saw the figures face, and even now I doubt I wanted to. Another click sound made my ears feel as if they perked. I became completely uneasy at that moment; something in the early morning air did not seem quite right. I tossed the burlap covers from myself and heaved my still tired body from the bed. I saw a glint of gold and in a split moment firm hands grabbed my arms gripping them tight enough to make bruises. “Aunli Featherwood” A voice boomed “you are under arrest for the sin of treason.” Sin? I glanced to the entrance, trying to stay as calm as possible. Freaking out at a moment like this would help nothing, well at least not positively. It was them, the Soldiers of the Sun or otherwise known as the Sun’s “Followers” all dressed in armor of bronze and gold. Their heads were hidden under heavy carefully decorated Masks. I was pinned down to my floor. I had never regretted not sweeping my floor as much as I did now. The sand and dirt from my floor grounded itself into my skin , from the pressure of the large soldier quite literally sitting on my spine, the dirt felt like needles sinking their way into my arms and legs. I could see the glint of a blade; I assumed then that this soldier was the “Head” of the others since he had pulled out his sword. However that’s not what caught my attention. The soldier behind the one with the blade leaned in my door way with a book in his hand. This book was not just any book, This book was My Very own…Diary.

Bud

here is the story:
rologue
My world was a dim world of loneliness, horror, and solitude. The sun was nothing but a fairy tale, much like a unicorn or fairy. It had been covered by the ashy tears of 7 large volcanoes, which had spewed its anger all on the world. The sun became legend; it became the lord's right hand man who punished sinners. It was said, that the sun had slain all those humans before us. Made some go crazy and slay their fellow neighbors and others he pricked their skin with his great sword making them become sick with their own sin. We all lived in fear to grow sick or be different in any way. We would not speak differently, we would not think differently for if we did or become any of those things we would be killed. You would be a vendum, a human who was all sin (or at least becoming that way) and must be taken out to please our lord.
The elders were our leaders, a group of seven men. All descendants of monks and priests from the old days. They were the so called "royalty" of our group, the hypothetically never sinned but somehow they always got heirs to their positions in the council. If you had a child, a child meant intercourse and that was forbidden here. Intercourse was a sin in itself, the elders had told us. Our numbers were dwindling, the human race dyeing out all out of fear and power taken by the hunger of humanity. The elders could do no wrong; the guilds were next, a society filled with our upper class, the theoretical nobles. A strange higher class who had the power to kill whoever they feel was on the verge of being a "vendum". I personally found them more dangerous than even the elders, they were always out and about finding people they disliked to kill off. At some point someone found a vendum and the warriors of the sun were sent to kill them. The warriors of the sun were men raised from birth to carry out the will of the elders for their god. They would strike at early morning where the sun would have once dawned. They had access to everywhere and everyone. To wake up to their glimmering golden armor was the worst thing a human could see. They would sometimes drag them off instead of killing them right there to be sent off into the elders council quarters. Never to be heard from again.
However, humans were not alone in this dyeing world. We all lived in Israel, all in a town of 2 million surrounded by a great wall. This wall was so high no one knew if anything lived plant or animal wise outside, it was so deep that no one had ever found the bottom. The outside of these walls were called the forbidden lands.

Love and miss you guys!

I’ve lost my birthday book, but I believe today, March 4th, is Jacob Polhemus’ seventeenth birthday. He doesn’t come in here, but tell him for me, Bud, to expect the usual late birthday card from Nana.

Love,

Buddy

Also, it’s pretty long… Like, eight and a half pages on word… Enjoy! Please comment.

Dusktown

Part I

New Kid

“I really do hate Wednesdays.”

The snow fell harshly outside; it buried the roofs of the buildings further off and ran across the frozen parking lot in flurries. It felt almost as if the entire world had been swallowed up by the darkness. A single black street lamp bathed itself and a trashcan in a thick yellow pool of light near the front of the building. Everything beyond was dense black.

Rat sat on a bench alongside the wall of the cafeteria. His foot was up against the edge of the table; he was wearing shiny black shoes usually worn by men much older than him. They shone faintly in the cheap luminescence of the lights.

A girl silently walked over to Rat’s table and sat down. Brushing her long blonde hair behind her ear, her eyes did a quick sweep over the room. After a somewhat tense, expectant silence, the girl returned her pale violet eyes back to her dinner. Rat didn’t try to hide his disappointed sigh. Suddenly, the girl said without looking up, “Rat, please keep your feet off the table.”

Smirking on the inside, Rat wordlessly obeyed and removed his foot. He then turned his own yellow eyes to the other children before him.

Directly across from Rat and the girl were four others, all speaking in suspiciously hushed voices. Two of the girls had on make-up, one with glitter over her eyes, and the third had short curly blonde hair, sugary brown eyes, and lightly freckled cheeks. They were all speaking to a girl who was standing behind them. She would listen for a few seconds, nod, and then look around the room, singling other people out. The girl shot a quick glance in the duo’s direction, but Rat couldn’t see her expression because her hair was in the way.

Beyond the four girls, nearly hidden behind the bodies of the other children, three larger males sat hunched together in a corner to the right. One of them was speaking animatedly. He would keep sending accusing glares at someone far across the room. Rat followed his gaze. He ended up seeing a small boy sitting alone at the other end of the cafeteria. The boy was staring down at his soup, looking both paranoid and forlorn at the same time.

“Weasel…”

The girl nodded without looking up. She chewed on a piece of bread before going on. “Snake thinks that Pebble told Ms. Holli about him smoking with the teenagers last month,” she said calmly. Rat furrowed his thin eyebrows. “Pebble? Pebble couldn’t tell on anybody, let alone Snake. He’d probably pee his pants at the thought of it.” Rat had mumbled the last part, knowing Weasel would not appreciate it. She sent him a look; she had heard him.

“Pebble was there, remember? He was standing with Ms. Holli when she saw. Snake thinks he told her.”

“Snake’s an idiot.”

“Pigeon’s coming.”

The girl who had been standing with the others was now heading straight for them. Her feathery light brown hair fell around her shoulders as she sat at their table across from them. “Hi Weasel. Rat.”

Rat nodded in greeting, and Weasel said, “Hello, Pigeon. Do you have any messages for us?”

“Yes, in fact, I do. And I’m in a rush, so let’s get through this quickly, please.” She glared pointedly at Rat.

“Who, me?” Rat protested. “I never give you any problems.” His voice was dripping with mischievous sarcasm. Pigeon rolled her eyes and shook her head before saying, “Whatever. Anyway, the first one is for Rat; it’s from Pop-Rocks.” Rat frowned and glared at Pigeon. “You love killing me on the inside, don’t you?” Pigeon looked smug, but didn’t respond.

Rat liked Pigeon well enough. She wasn’t like most other girls in the Orphanage; she didn’t drive him crazy from endless gossip, and she didn’t cry whenever she was upset. The two of them were on good terms.

Pigeon had come to the Orphanage two years before Rat, but he was older then her by two years. She was a thin girl, but had a strong personality that Rat (on occasion) respected. He had quickly found after his arrival at the Orphanage that almost everyone had a type of “occupation”. Pigeon’s was delivering messages – obviously.

After Weasel arrived at the Orphanage, two months after Rat, she had asked the other girl why she liked passing on messages for others. “Oh, that’s easy,” Pigeon had said. The three of them had been outside in the large back field, sitting close together in the grass. “First off all, if everyone trusts me with all the important stuff, I become untouchable. They’re all too afraid I’ll spill some big secret of theirs; and it’s real handy, too. You can’t trust anybody around here if you know what’s good for you. And I always know what’s going on, like if there’s going to be a fight or if something fun is happening. Besides, it’s a great way to keep tabs on all the news. ”

Pigeon was simply perfect for the job, too. She ate fast and little, so she could spend most of her mealtimes receiving and sending messages. She also had a very good memory. Most of the time you only needed to tell Pigeon the message once and she would be able to recite it perfectly. But one had to be careful; Pigeon rarely chose sides.

There was only one thing that Rat disliked about the younger girl. She enjoyed imitating the voices of the person who had sent the message. Whenever Pigeon gave you a message from someone you particularly despised, you would have to hear their voices as well. In this case, the message being from Pop-Rocks, the distain was doubled.

Pigeon took a deep breath, and then released a high pitched giggle. “Hi Rat! It’s Pop-Rocks. I just wanted to remind you that my birthday’s next month. So if you want to give me any kind of present, you’re welcome whenever you like. I really hope we can talk later. Kisses!”

Rat groaned and hid his face in his arms. His mop of white hair contrasted with the black material of his jacket. Weasel looked as if she was trying her best not to laugh. Pigeon wasn’t as courteous. “I think,” Pigeon said to the boy, sounding smug, “that she was trying to seduce you or something. Gross; I really hate doing messages for Pop-Rocks. It always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

Rat looked up and glared at her, but Pigeon continued, “The other one is for Rat, too. It’s from Rikki.”

Both Rat and Weasel looked surprised. “Rikki?” Weasel asked. “But he never gives us messages…” She trailed off. “Do I…? Should I leave?” Pigeon looked at her apologetically. “Yes. Sorry. I’ll talk to you in a minute though, ‘kay?” Weasel understood and nodded to them both before leaving the table. Rat watched her go, and Pigeon started the message. Her voice became deeper and smooth.

“Rat. It took you longer then I thought for you to find Snake out. I expected more from you. Actually, no. I’m sure Weasel was the one who eventually found out, not you. What’s wrong? Is your little know-it-all getting lazy? Tired of having to do all of the work? I’m not surprised.

“Rat, I just want to give you a heads up. Things are about to get exciting, and I want you on your toes. I do enjoy these games we play.”

His expression looked passive, as if what Pigeon had said meant nothing to him, but inside Rat’s mind was reeling. Rikki and Rat had always been on okay terms with each other. If they stayed out of each other’s way, nobody got hurt. But, of course, there were always exceptions….

Rikki is a sixteen-year-old boy. Some might call him handsome, and others might call him little less then ugly. It depends on how you look at him. With his swampy green eyes, Rikki could intimidate anyone easily. His black hair was long and always pulled back in a low pony-tail; this did not hinder his frightening stature.

Because Rikki’s sixteen, it’s quite odd for him to still be at Dusktown Orphanage. Usually how it works is that once a child has turned sixteen, they are sent to another town to be in a foster family. But Rikki was still here. Everyone wondered why, but knows better then to ask. It wasn’t as if Rikki was any trouble to them, anyways. If you didn’t make Rikki angry and stayed on his good side, he didn’t bother with you. Coincidentally, Rat was not really on Rikki’s good side.

“Well, do I?”

Rat was broken from his thoughts when he tuned into Pigeon asking him something. Being the gentlemen he was, Rat said, “What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening. Did you say something?” Pigeon grunted lowly in impatience. “I asked you if I had to bribe you.”

“Bribe me for what?”

“You’re such an idiot! I know you’re going to tell Weasel what I said even after I made her leave. Rikki specifically wants Weasel not to know. I don’t know why, but then again, I don’t care. Whatever goes on between you and him doesn’t matter to me in the slightest; except if it messes with my allowance. But that’s another matter entirely. So, do I?” Pigeon glared hard at him. She just wanted this conversation to be over.

Rat had to admit, he was a bit impressed. Telling Weasel was the first thing he had been going to do. Rikki was, and had been, a serious problem for them both. Unlike Snake, who made his deeds known so that anyone could figure him out, Rikki was smart. He was fast and he was sneaky. Rikki knew just how to mess with Rat’s more instinctual head. Was Rikki really up to something? Did he just want Rat to get all paranoid? Maybe this was all a trap – make Rat feel like he knows everything, and then strike when he least expects it.

Rat sighed. He hated strategy games; they were more Weasel’s turf. But if Rat couldn’t tell her, he would have to figure this out on his own. How troublesome.

“Yeah, fine, sure. I won’t tell her.”

Pigeon kept staring. “Promise?”

“Whatever, I promise; are you happy now? Now go on, fly away before you ruin the rest of my day.”

Pigeon, with a triumphant smile, did just that. She then proceeded to run to Weasel, grab the girl’s wrist, and then drag her to the other side of the room. Rat rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired.

This was just great – more secrets.

*~*~*~*

When Weasel finally returned, Rat asked her what they had been talking about. Weasel simply gave him her don’t-worry-about-it look and continued eating. Rat sulked about this for the rest of dinnertime.

Now the two of them were heading towards the staircase that led to the second floor. On the next floor were everyone’s rooms. It being almost nine, Rat and Weasel had decided to go upstairs to talk about Snake before curfew, which was eleven ‘o’clock. “Pebble could be in big trouble if Snake gets a hold of him,” Weasel muttered, mostly to herself. But Rat had heard, and he couldn’t help but think, Snake isn’t our worst problem.

Weasel hadn’t asked once about what Pigeon had told him, and quite frankly it frustrated him.  He hadn’t expected any less from her, though. Weasel was observant; in Rat’s mind she probably already knew Rikki was up to something. But she still could have asked. Rat probably would have told her if she had just asked, promise to Pigeon or no. And he knew Weasel knew that too. Yet she continued on as if nothing of any significance had been said between him and Pigeon. Rat hesitated. Did she really trust him that much?

Perhaps he was giving her too much credit.

As the two of them began ascending up the stairs, they heard their names being called. Ms. Holli was running towards the both of them while trying to pull on a thick coat. Ms. Holli was one of the nicer staff that worked at Dusktown Orphanage, and had a kind of bond with all of the orphans there. Even Rat, who had no interest for making friends, liked her more then most of the other kids did. He even smiled as she approached.

“Oh, Weasel, Rat, I’m so happy you’re not up yet,” she told them. The sound of wailing snow grew slightly from outside, and the already icy windows turned whiter with frost. “There’s a new child coming here to the orphanage.”

“Is there?” Weasel asked, a faint touch of excitement coming off her words. Rat’s smile left. Ms. Holli smiled and nodded. “Yes. Actually, Neal was supposed to have dropped him off an hour ago, but they got lost on the way back. They’re coming up in about five minutes… and they need help bringing his things inside. I was hoping the two of you would help me?”

“Are you bloody serious?” Rat was shocked. “Have you looked outside? It’s probably thirty degrees below out there! There’s probably three feet of snow. We’ll freeze before we even get to the car.”

Ms. Holli said, “Oh, please Rat? Everyone else is already upstairs. Ruby already left for home. I know you hate getting cold, but I really do need your help.” During this, Weasel said nothing, but Rat could feel her watching him and waiting for his answer. He was silent for a moment. Then, “Alright, fine. But I’m holding this grudge on the stupid new kid. It’s not like we need any more trouble here anyway.”

Weasel and Rat both put on their thick winter coats that hung with all the others at the front of the building. Once ready, Ms, Holli opened the door with a bit of difficulty. Rat was immediately assaulted with biting wind and snow. Beyond the overhead light, everything was still and dark, so he could barely see five feet in front of him.

The three of them waited outside in the cold snow. They looked towards the far of road, which was visible from where they were standing through a brake in the trees. Rat could see yellow and red lights flying past each other, all of them having a place to go somewhere deep in the unknown darkness. He suddenly wondered what it was like at his old neighborhood, or how his house looked, or if it was still there. He wondered about that one girl – what was her name? Eliza? – had ever learned to play the flute like she had said when they were small. Rat thought about all the things he had left behind when he had run away from home. Did they sell it? Maybe they donated it or gave it all away. Perhaps they had used it as evidence after his disappearance. Rat then recalled not having many things to start with.

Two yellow lights caught Rat’s attention, and he realized that it was a truck. It climbed up the frozen assault and rolled before Weasel, Ms. Holli and himself. Keeping the motor running, a man opened the door and quickly hopped out of the driver’s seat. From the headlights and the lights inside the car, his face was easily seen.

Neal was another kind of staff that worked for the Orphanage; Rat guessed that he was somewhere in his early twenties. His job was usually to pick up nearby children who were unfortunate enough to have to come here. Neal was also the one that took the older kids to foster parents nearby. Sometimes he worked in the kitchens or helped the Chief with paperwork and such. Rat even remembered Neal helping Ms. Holli with the younger children one day. Something had seemed different that day, but he hadn’t known what.

Neal was wearing a pathetically thin jacket and jeans, so he ran up to the three of them and said, “I’m going to bring him inside. There’s one suitcase in the passenger seat and another in the back. In the trunk there’s a box full of the rest of his things; Rat can get the box.”

Quickly everyone hurried to do their job. They followed Neal to the truck and Rat headed straight for the trunk. He pulled himself into the back by resting his foot on the tire and throwing the other one over the edge. Rat covered his eyes so the snow could not blind him as he looked for the box. It was a sealed cardboard box that sat at the very corner of the trunk. Stepping in the rest of the way he picked it up. It wasn’t too heavy. Rat hadn’t really expected it to be.

“Hey!” he yelled, hoping to get Neal’s attention. When he wasn’t heard, Rat turned and yelled again. “Neal!” This time he got the man’s attention. As Neal looked back, Rat quickly studied the boy who was standing beside him.

He was short, about Pebble’s height, and had on no jacket and sweat pants. He was shivering fiercely. Most people who didn’t have a jacket on and who had been forced to stay outside in this kind of weather would have been drilling holes into Rat’s head with malice. Instead the boy’s head kept facing towards the building. Because of the dark, Rat couldn’t see much detail, like the boy’s eyes or hair or skin color.

“Is this stuff breakable?”

Neal turned to the boy and said a few words. The boy shook his head, still looking forward. Neal looked back and said, “No, its not! But why–”

Rat tossed the box onto the ground. It landed with a satisfying ‘bang!’

Eventually they all made it inside and Neal closed the door behind the girls. Rat greeted the warm air happily, refusing to take off his coat until he could feel his nose again. Weasel turned to Ms. Holli and asked, “Where is he going to stay?”

As Ms. Holli removed her coat and handed it to the boy, she told Weasel, “Rat has the extra bed in his room, and the second closet.”

Rat’s insides boiled. His room? His room! There was no way he was going to let some strange kid he didn’t even know in his room with his things, doing who knows what with them. Rat was not one for roommates. His last one was a boy they called Snacks. Snacks didn’t know the definition of ‘personal space’ and had eventually been literally thrown out when Rat had entered one of his rages after Snacks messed with his… well… old companion. He now resided with a tall boy named Shark.

But before Rat could argue about the unfairness of the situation, somebody said, “There you are!”

Rat turned to see Pigeon and the blond haired girl coming down the stairs. Weasel stepped over to them. “Hello Pigeon. Hello Strawberry. Is something wrong?” Pigeon crossed her arms. “Yes something’s wrong. We’ve been looking for you for fifteen minutes! Where have you – you know what? I don’t want to know. Just come on!” Before Weasel could oppose, she was once again dragged by the wrist and up the stairs. Shooting everyone an apologetic look, she called back, “Sorry. I’ll drop this off at Rat’s room. Goodnight!”

Ms. Holli and Neal both said goodnight back even after Weasel could no longer be seen. Rat watched, unhappy.

*~*~*~*

“Alright, shrimp, this is how it works. This is my side of the room. Don’t go on my bed. Stay out of my closet. It’s probably a good idea not to talk to me or ask me any stupid questions. Right?” Rat looked behind him and glared at the boy. He jumped, and then nodded forlornly. “Good,” said Rat. His room was small, but big enough for two or three people to share. His bed sat on the left side of the room, and another one without sheets was pushed up against the far wall, which was a pale green color. A few of Rat’s possessions – clothes, mostly – were scattered haphazardly around the room. He had already moved to pick some of them up and put them on ‘his side’ of the room. “Also, I don’t help with any homework. Figure it out on your own. Come over here and help me move this bed, shrimp.”

Now that they were inside, Rat took in the kids appearance more, memorizing it. He had short curly red hair and pale blue eyes. His skin was rosy from the cold outside. He was a small, thin boy that resembled Pebble in most ways of body and personality. But the boy, deciding if he was going to live here he should probably start standing up for himself, stated, “I have a name, you know–”

“And I don’t want to hear it,” snarled Rat. Sure, I’m being a little harsh, Rat thought to himself. But he’ll thank me for it later. He’s not going to get anywhere with all that shyness. Look where that got Pebble. “Now get over here and help me move your bed.”

He looked cross, but the boy decided he should probably not argue. At least not with Rat. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still open himself somewhat. He moved towards Rat and grabbed one side of the iron bedpost. “Is your name really Rat?” he asked quietly, but loud enough so that Rat could hear him.

Rat shot him a look. “What? No, don’t be stupid. Rat’s my Surname.”

“So it’s your last name? What about those girls? Weasel, Pigeon, Strawberry? Those aren’t their last names, are they?”

“No,” Rat said angrily, putting the bed down so he could concentrate. “Listen, you little midget. Most of the kids that end up here don’t have last names anymore. Usually they forget them, or maybe they just don’t know their last names. Whenever someone new comes to the Orphanage, they’re nameless.”

“What about your actual name?”

Rat rolled his eyes. “As if those mean anything anymore; nobody knows anyone’s first name around here. Ms. Holli doesn’t even use them, even though she would like to.”

“Then what is a Surname?”

“It’s a name that someone who already lives at the Orphanage gives you – usually its your roommate or maybe its just someone you become friends with quickly. Anyway, they’re called Surnames because they represent the last names we don’t have. No one uses first names. I’d bet most of us don’t even remember them anymore. I barely remember mine.” Alright, this may have been stretching the truth just a bit. But Rat would have loved to forget his real name. It was just a burden to him.

The boy nodded and asked, “Who gave you your Surname?”

Rat shook his head. “Duh know. Everyone just started calling me Rat one day, and I went along with it. Now shut up and help me move this stupid thing.”

They both lifted at the same time, but Rat found that the bed seemed lighter. He glanced at the boy as they moved it; he didn’t seem to be having any trouble with the weight at all.

As they settled it parallel to the right wall, Rat said to the boy, “Strong for a shrimp, aren’t you?” The boy just shrugged. He looked tired. Rat paused for a second. “Ant,” he finally said, and then he walked to his side of the room. The boy looked up. “What?”

“Your Surname is Ant. I’ve decided. And don’t look at me like it’s a stupid name. It’s better then being called Skito, isn’t it?”

“Who’s that?”

Rat pulled off his shirt and jacket and then pulled on a clean long sleeved nightshirt. It was too cold to sleep without one. Looking down at his black pants and deciding he was too tired to bother, he walked over and turned the lights off.

“No one you need to worry your pretty little head about. There’s some covers in your closet behind the bed. Get some sleep.”

As Rat lied down, he listened to Ant’s shuffling steps and the opening of the closet doors. Soon enough Ant was lying in the bed, pulling the covers closer to himself. Then it was quiet.

“Rat?” Ant’s voice was very soft.

“What?”

“What about that girl who was with us? What was her name?”

Rat turned around and looked in the younger boy’s direction. Even though it was dark, Rat’s vision was better then most peoples. He could see Ant’s outline. The boy was lying on his stomach, looking in his direction. “Her name’s Weasel,” Rat told him. Ant thought about that for a bit. “Who named her? Was it that girl with the brown hair?”

“No. I did.” Rat turned back over and closed his eyes.

“Why did you name her Weasel?” Ant asked. His voice was starting to fade from exhaustion.

No doubt he’s had a long day, becoming an orphan and all, Rat though cruelly. Then he thought about Ant’s question.

“I… I don’t know why I call her that. I guess it just fits her.”

“Cool…” Rat could almost hear Ant’s eyes sliding shut as the boy decided to drift off to a restless sleep.

Rat frowned and pulled the covers over his still cold nose. Then he said, just loud enough for Ant to hear, “Keep out of my stuff. Stay off my side of the room. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Please tell me if you like it.

My kids!

They finally got to build their first snowman the other day and they did a great job. Some little neighbor kids who moved in recently helped them make it. Actually, they helped Lily make it, Benjamin threw snowballs the whole time. I think he hit the little neighbor boy in the head which sent him home. He, of course, denied he was throwing snowballs AT people and just said he was throwing them “UP”.

My future little politician

Ella is walking around now. So to celebrate her new mobility she scooted her little rocking chair from her room to the TV room and promptly sat down and started to rock. She even stole the remote. I found it next to her chair. But the chair was facing the bookcase, not the TV. I wonder if she knows something?

Benjamin is as hooked on video games as his dad was at his age. I think the best thing to ever happen to me was that the Atari we had broke and we had to take it back. I got to grow up all the way to junior high before getting our Nintendo. Hmmm, sounds like a plan.

He also cries at a moments notice. He’s quite dramatic. We thought getting his tonsils out would help improve his sensitivity, but I think he’s just more determined now.

Can you be a determined sensitive? Is that like being a romantic cynic. Maria?

Anyway, see mom, we haven’t all left.

I would acces facebook more often but I can’t get it on my computer at work and I never have time at home so this is better for me at the moment.

concern is: the circus is nothing like it use to be. they did not have much of the animal acts like they use to when my kids were little. alot of acrobats and clowns and shows, I saw alot of the kids getting pretty board. oh well, guess the circus is on a budget also. but they sure ask alot for the plastic light up toys!!!

Anyway, Bill was badly hurt. He was hit from behind by an 18 wheeler, which smashed his small Toyota into the car ahead of him, and he really didn’t feel “hurt”, but decided two days later that he’d better see a lawyer and a doctor. As it stands, he has a busted up disc, and may have to have back surgery, but is resisting that. He’s going to a chiropractor. He bought a new great big truck (no more small cars, said Nancy) and I guess his medical bills are being paid. (I hope). Still….he’s left with a lifetime problem.

Our family has it’s share.

I called Lainie tonight, and she’s deathly sick with something that sounds like pneumonia to me. She said if she isn’t better in the morning, some friends will take her to the doctor.