Kayla.

We drove and drove for miles, for days and weeks on end. Running from “Them”, from the nameless, faceless Them that tracked our every move and were closing in all the time. All those years ago, travelling with her up and down the map, wondering how she had the money to keep buying gas, and what would happen to us if the car broke down. We stayed in shelter after shelter, vagabonds, gypsies under duress. I never saw Them, and neither did anyone else. But she knew They were there. So we fled for our lives, crossing state lines, she wondering if they were close now, if her daughter’s young, ignorant slip-up in a car that was clearly bugged, “Look, mom! Welcome to Texas!” had tipped Them off; me wondering if anyone in the world had any idea where I was. Of course, no one did. There was no cavalry coming to rescue me. I’d have to do that myself, somehow. But I couldn’t leave her. She needed me. There was no one else.

I’m grown now, living my own life, but I sometimes wonder if I’ll be in that car forever.

Another Daydream.

She'd put up a sign.

It would say "Scream."

She'd put it up above the drinking fountain at school.

No one would know she's the one who put it up.

People would see it.

Most would think it was lame, wrong, why would you scream?

But it got to at least one person. One person got it.

He stood there, staring at the sign, knowing now that he wasn't the only one who wanted so badly to just stop and sit and cry. And scream.

He'd see her later in the week, sitting by the same water fountain she had put the sign up above.

"Scream." had been torn down by some brats.

The girl was crying because, even though she was the one who sent the message, she still couldn't open up her mouth and scream, or do anything , really.

He sat down next to her, next to the fountain.

And cried.

And they both did for a while then, no one stopping, no one laughing, no one pointing, but people passing. The only respect they got from people was being invisible.

He knew. No one knows how, but he knew she put the sign up the moment he sat next to her.

And they didn't let each other be alone until the final bell rang, and they could go their seperate ways, not speaking a word, not turning back, but everyday visiting each other at the same place. So they could get out at least a little bit of their screams.

No one can be trusted completely.

You "douche-sucking" bastard homo-sapien, who doesn't even take anything seriously, not even pain.

"She said she can't hang out, and it's like she's not interested in me anymore," he said.

"Just because she can't hang out doesn't mean anything," I tell him.

He honestly sounded hurt.

"Besides," I continue. "You don't really really like her. It's not like you're serious about it."

"It's highschool," he said simply.

"And that's your excuse," I told him with disgust, getting up and walking out of the room.

AID.

[First off, let's pretend this is Friday. Secondly, I don't think people are getting the point. What they're writing is supposed to be "Things Not Heard". What some people are giving me is just a bunch of things that I hear all the time. All but one. Man.]

My neighbors are so annoying! The other night, one broke his arm by banging on a door. His little brothers locked him out and when he got in, he started beating them up. Another neighbor called the police. A lot goes on down there, like parties and music blasts. One time we were playing capture the flag, and we were yelling. They came out and yelled, "Shut up, I'm tryin' to drink!" WOW. They are just stupid. We have called the cops, like, 10 times. They need to give it yp and just get arrested! People can hear them that are six houses down.

[Including me. She's not over-exaggerating. They're horrible. And they've stolen my brother's bikes. Anyway, there you go. That's ALL OF MY FRIENDS that I can get a hold of. The challenge is on, humanity.]

Villains. Now, here comes my conflict. What if a villain isn't REALLY a villain? Yes, of course the person broke the law. "The law is the law." But does that mean he's horrible, that he did it out of evil, that he should be punished? Most of the time, I don't think it does. Some things, yes. Horrible, HORRIBLE things that you KNOW the person did, yes. But, here's an example. An old man has a big family. Local pharmacy. Needs medicine for his little granddaughter. No money. Takes it. Gets caught. No sympathy. Papers assume, people's heads judge for the wrong reasons. They all see the wrong things, and no one reveals the right. I guess that man should do his time. Fair is fair. But the way people describe that man disgusts me. The way people react, the way they treat. Another example. Someone is a suspect for murder. The person that died was the suspects friend, even though most people didn't know it. All of the clues lead to that suspect. He didn't do it. He honestly didn't do it. And then. All over the News, the radio, the public. People hear things and start saying he's the one. Everyone hates him. The local station even says that it was him. He goes to court. Gets a trial. Innocent. Eventually word dies down, but no one looks at him the same, because they can't get the thought out of their little assuming heads that he's a murderer. And he lives in misery for a while, adding to the sorrow from the death of his friend. Isn't it all bull shit. Doesn't it all suck when you're called a horrible person, when in reality, you were trying to do something good.

Picked strawberries today with my mum. Of course, it wasn't a huge thrill ride, but on our way, we blasted some sweet music and rolled the windows down completely, letting the tunes flow out and the wind flow in. If that doesn't cause pure happiness, I don't know what does.

First, you must realize that I am sorry. Second, you must understand that my computer has a virus. Thrid, it is summer. No one can write for me. Should I do the brave thing and just go around the neighborhood? Hm. Maybe someday. Things have been okay. I honestly think I'll always feel lonely, though. As if the crowd around me is only a mist, and that there is no waterfall of people around, trying to help. I've got it good. I just don't have the mind.

One moment smiling, one moment crying. Eh. I wish I could cry. Time for a bike ride? I'm thinking yes.