Among the Shadows (Gaby)

If you ever feel like I do when you slip between cracks, maybe then I'll see why nothing stays intact

My voice definitely startled her judging by how fast she whipped her neck into my direction. One of her pigtails slapped against her face as she fiercely glared into my soul with her dark, beady eyes. She seemed interrupted by me and even a bit angry at me.

"Do I look like a thief to you?"

I don’t actually think she’s a thief, but I still don’t know what she’s doing. Maybe it’s because I’m a bit of a skeptic, but even though she’s probably not a crook it’s at least odd that she’s grabbing between logs of wood.

“No, but you never know for sure. Nowadays it don’t matter how you look, anyone could be a thief.”

Deciding to trust the girl, or at least going along with her story, I prop my guitar up against some of its wooden brethren and plop down next to the girl with my back leaning against the lumber as well. Next to her she’s got a small box, I pick it up to examine it. Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose so that I can look more closely, I remove the lid and find a mouse trapped at the bottom of the box. This just got weird. She might be trying to sell the mouse and any other treasures she can find, but I find it absolutely disgusting. Stealing these creations from nature- it’s sickening to me. But, as per usual I will not speak my mind. Perhaps she is truly innocent. It’s hard to tell.

“Besides, what are you doing?”

Gesturing to the box in my hands, “Also why do you have this?”

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lyrics: SayWeCanFly

If you ever feel like I do when you slip between cracks, maybe then I'll see why nothing stays intact

"I have this because it is a house for my pets.”

As the girl says those odd words, she reaches behind her leg and when her arm reappears, there is a terrified mouse in the palm of her hand. It’s not very often that people have pets. In fact, I don’t think I know anyone other than her that has a pet. There’s a reason for that. She’s caught them herself, or at least someone did it for her. Wait. She said ‘pets’; that means there’s more than one of them.

“Could you please put the box down?”

Upon saying this line, I look down and realize there is a flap acting as a door to the ‘house’. The door is moving as if something just left the box. Glancing around, I notice a few tiny rodents that have scattered themselves across the ground, as I put the box with the single mouse down carefully. The girls picks up the mice as easily as if they were wild strawberries and rejoices the family of pets in her hand.

“Duke is going to feel sick. And look what you've done! You are scaring them!"

Duke… She’s named even named them. I don’t know whether or not to consider a lunatic, but to be fair I consider my few friends to be borderline crazy anyways. Normally I’m a lot more disturbed by people taking animals out of the wild, but the way she caresses them in her hand shows how much she cares for them. It would have been easy for to sell them for whatever money they are worth, but she didn’t. She cares about them. This gives at least a tiny bit of faith in society.

“I’m sorry I scared them. What are all of their names? Would it be okay if touched one, or is that too much to ask?”

banner credit: google & admin kay

lyrics: SayWeCanFly

If you ever feel like I do when you slip between cracks, maybe then I'll see why nothing stays intact

"Thank you very much."

Fortunately the girl seems to be friendly enough and takes the compliment then proceeds in going into full detail on how she named each mouse. The way she speaks of the mice is as if she was a mother who enthusiastically talks about their children. It’s cute. Kid cute, but still cute. With every sentence, she rambles on so much that by the end she is out of breathe almost.

Learning the names of mice isn’t the most entertaining subject, but the rarity of pet owners in the District is quite high so patience is my key. Now my goal is to pet one of those little rodents.

The girl transitions the conversation toward introducing herself rather than the pets to me.

"Speaking of introductions, I am Lane. And what is your name?"

“I go by Dorian. I’ll apologize in advance- I’m not the best at holding a conversation.”

A gust of wind blows my long dark hair into my face, and I turn my neck the other direction, grabbing my guitar simultaneously. I begin fingerpicking chords softly, which I often do when I’m thinking to myself or for the pure entertainment, but usually the former rather than the latter.

She seems to be very carefree judging by the looks of things, which is something I value. It means there are less limitations on the mind, but let’s see if she’s truly a thinker or perhaps just still a child.

Looking at the sun’s last glimmers of light for the day, I ask, “What got you into collecting mice in the first place? It’s a bit of an odd pastime, don’t ya think?”

banner credit: google & admin kay

lyrics: SayWeCanFly

If you ever feel like I do when you slip between cracks, maybe then I'll see why nothing stays intact

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

That’s the first time I’ve heard that phrase in a while. Usually, I don’t go around introducing myself to people and if I do converse with someone new, they don’t really seem interested in me or find something about me strange. I think I like this kid. Kindness is underrated today.

"Collecting? I am adopting them! And I am not doing this because it is a pastime or a hobby or anything of that sort. They just need my help, that's all. And, well, it is not odd for someone who has a soft spot for every single living thing in the world. Although the majority of people think I am crazy when they find out that I have five mice and four cockroaches who eat from my plate and sleep on my pillow."

She takes care of cockroaches too!? I never would have thought to have done that. After a moment she starts talking again.

"All right, maybe I am not as normal as the other people, but it probably runs in the family. Also they sleep on my pillow only because I sleep on the floor and they can catch a cold if I put them next to myself. I also have many siblings who don't appreciate nature, so it is another way to keep my pets safe."

Now that we’ve had an interesting conversation, I want to be friends with her. The only problem is that I don’t exactly know how to say that and now that she has finished her anecdote the spotlight is on me to say something. I don’t know how I want to say what I want to say, but I do know this: she seems similar to me, and that’s what I like.

"I think I am talking too much."

“Don’t worry Lane, I like weird. We’ve all got our quirks but those who don’t bother hiding them are the truest of people.”

That should reassure her a bit.

“Taking care of cockroaches is cool by the way- or at least I think so. Never in a million years would I have thought to do that.”

When I do talk, I always feel like I’m forgetting to say something. It’s a very unsatisfying feeling that irritates me because I don’t know how to remedy it.

All of a sudden, footprints are nearing us. Judging by the time and the confidence of each step, those boots probably belong to Peacekeepers.

Turning to my newfound friend I whisper, “It looks like we gotta get out of here!”

banner credit: google & admin kay

lyrics: SayWeCanFly

If you ever feel like I do when you slip between cracks, maybe then I'll see why nothing stays intact

"Not all the people are so understanding. Many of my classmates call me "Lame Prank" all the time because of my pets."

At least if you’re going to make fun of someone make it clever.

‘Lame.’ C’mon, why do people have to do that? It pisses me off.

“That’s awful.”

As she continues to talk about her cockroaches, it makes me wonder about what kind of crap she gets from everyone. Not even her family seems to be supportive of her. She’s brave if she still hangs onto her pets through all of that. Mad respect.

The Peacekeeper’s stomps begin to approach judging by the crescendo of sound their steps are making.

"Yup, let's talk somewhere else," Lane says.

Grabbing my guitar in one hand, I gesture toward the natural shadows of the forest with the other. Looking both directions before making the break to check for the Peacekeepers I see no one. Upon sprinting for the trees, my foot slips from underneath me in a puddle of mud.

The impact of the landing coerced a loud gasp from my lips as the pain of my now scraped wrist registers. The sound of wood being knocked is audible moments after my landing and my neck turns toward the source and it’s my now mud-covered instrument. Behind the bridge of the neck a pair of laced white boots are visible.

Shit. I’m in trouble now.

An automated voice interrogates, “What the hell are you doing out here?”

In a blink of an eye, my guitar is no longer on the ground and panic sets in as all the awful scenarios pan through my head. Words can’t escape my mouth.

Please don’t let anything happen to my guitar. If anything were to happen I don’t know what I would do. As if my mind were readable, the bad man in the uniform raises my guitar to eye level.

banner credit: google & admin kay

lyrics: SayWeCanFly

If you ever feel like I do when you slip between cracks, maybe then I'll see why nothing stays intact

Laying on my belly in a pool of mud was not where I intended to be an hour ago that’s for certain. But, I’m glad my newfound friend came to the rescue. I could tell the thought of smashing my handmade guitar to bits right then and there crossed the Peacekeepers mind. In moments of controversy I cannot speak words. It’s as if my mouth were glued shut.

"Hi there, boss. We only stopped to talk here for a while. And we were just leaving. Could you please give us the instrument back?"

After what seemed like an eternity, which was only a few seconds, the Peacekeeper decided to be lenient with the pair of us. The Peacekeeper finished examining the guitar my father made for me when I was ten and returned it to Lane.

"You better leave soon then if you don't want to spend the rest of your life in the Detention Center,” threatened the automated voice.

Adrenaline flows through my body as the Peacekeeper turns around and walks away. I’ve always hated confrontation. Thanks to this girl my guitar and maybe my life were saved.

Nonchalantly the girl offers her hand to help me up and states, "We have five minutes. Better get away before he comes back. Are you alright? Can you walk?"

With my mind racing I forgot about the pain in my arm. Looking down at it, the crimson dripping from the fresh injury looks gruesome. It doesn’t help that it’s half covered in mud either.

“I’m fine to walk, but I need to get this cut on my arm cleaned and wrapped or else it'll get worse.”

banner credit: google & admin kay

lyrics: SayWeCanFly