Ashiko's Creative Writing Final

[ashiko]

Ok guys, so for my creative writing class final, I had to write a short story. So, I'm going to post it here. When I turned it in, it was 12 pt. font, double spaced, and 36 pages long. Obviously, too long to post all at once, so I'll post it in sections. Keep in mind that each section is set in a different person's pov. Well, the first one is 3rd person, but the others are 1st person, each section by a different person. So, here we go, the shortest section:
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Most of the time, a warehouse is not the most homey of places; even more so when it’s abandoned. Old broken assembly lines wind here and there, many collapsed and littering the floor. The big broken-down machines that cover much of the main rooms are more than a health hazard; they’re a death trap.

However, if a determined fifteen-year old boy decides he’s going to move everything out of the way, then he’s going to move them out of the way. No questions asked.

Wrapping a bunch of Do Not Cross tape across the old pieces of junk, he made that first room his new ‘bedroom.’ In another room down the hall, he’d found a room full of metal bunk-beds, where workers had slept. Taking one of the mattresses, he’s pushed a bunk bed into his new room. Using the sheets and pillows he’d stolen from a Laundromat in the city, he made himself at home.

The ground floor of the old warehouse was a different story. It was a large open place, where trucks could drive in and load up on wares.

In one corner had been a sink and a fridge, filled with ancient cokes that were promptly thrown away. The boy filled it with decent food and found an old microwave.

Regularly pilfering from the abandoned homes and buildings around the warehouse, the boy was able to accumulate a scarlet moth-eaten couch, a rickety table, and some comfy chairs. He even found a working TV in one house.

Urchins and orphans and street kids found their way to the warehouse. Though none of them stayed for long, they would check back in regularly, bringing items to make the building seem more habitable.

Gradually, the boy found himself the leader of a gang, willing to fight to protect the land all around the warehouse. A good half of their territory was the old abandoned part of town, but it was growing every day. Those who’s houses they tagged were then under the protection of the gang. Protection from anyone was given; rival gangs, the feds, mean neighbors, anyone. In return, the people gave ‘donations,’ even though it was only a small amount of philon every month.

Before long, a new gang was spreading quickly in Northern Smaik. Led by the boy who had found the warehouse, the Wheelers were taking over.

[ashiko]

Beware: they swear. If you are offended, let me know so I can edit.
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File_Open_Gang Files_‘Wheeler’│
Name: Cody Darren Garnes
Alias(s): Skater
Age: 16
Gang: Wheelers
Occupation: Renegade Thief. Thought to be the leader of the ‘Wheelers.’
Known History: Born in Northern Smaik, Ran away at 15, started gang.
Current Location: Somewhere in Northern Smaik. Exact location unknown,
Status: Wanted.


The day dawned bright, crisp, and grey on the old abandoned warehouse. The two of us teenage dudes sat in our makeshift kitchen. It consisted of a round table, four bar-stool chairs, a fridge, a freezer, and a counter with a microwave and a sink.

I had a head of dirty blond hair, stormy grey eyes and a freckled face. Like usual, I wore jeans and a radical t-shirt with a warm black vest. I leaned back in my chair and put my feet, with big skater shoes, on the table.

The other dude was Asian, with black hair, dark eyes, and darker skin. He wore green converse, skinny blue jeans, and an oversized grey t-shirt that said something in Japanese. The tips of his hair were tinted blue. He leaned his elbows on the table, sipping coffee and reading the morning paper; the Smaik Daily News.

I gave a sidelong look at him. “So, Biker, anything new in the paper today?”

Biker glanced up at me and shrugged. He pushed the paper across the table, forcing me to put my feet down to grab it. I shook the paper open, and disappeared behind it.

“Well… the feds are still messing things up… we’re still wanted fugitives… oh, they only just found out about us stealing that painting a week ago. Wow, they’re slow.” I peeked over the edge of the paper and grinned at Biker. “Can you believe that?”

“Believe what, Skater?” We both turned to look at the stairs, where a little girl stood. She had caramel-colored skin, and was only about eight years old. Her straight black hair was all messed up, and her bright brown eyes were clouded with sleep. She was dressed in one of Biker’s oversized shirts, which she used to sleep in. It went down to her knees and elbows, and was the same color white as the stuffed bunny she held in one hand.

I checked my retro analog watch. “Can you believe that it’s only six and you’re awake! What’s up, little one?”

The little girl yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I dunno, I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. Can I have a cookie?” She wandered closer to the table.

“No, but you can have some breakfast.” As she was too tired to climb onto the chair herself, though she was perfectly capable, I picked her up and set her in the chair.

Biker had stood up and was quickly fixing a bowl of oatmeal. He set it down in front of her, and she mumbled a thanks.

I picked up the newspaper again. “You want the comics, Scooter?” I asked the little girl. She shook her head and kept eating. “All right, Biker gets them then.” Pulling the page of comics from the rest of the paper, I handed them to Biker, who eagerly took them.

Another girl entered the kitchen. She was taller and older than Scooter, but shorter and younger than both of us dudes. Her hair was a light brown, bundled up in a messy bun on the back of her head. She too was still dressed in her pajamas; a pair of sweat pants and a tank top. She had a scowl on her face as she made herself a cup of coffee and sat down.

I held out the rest of the newspaper. “Hey, Blader, want the-” I stopped as she put up her hand.

“What have I told you about talking to me before I’ve finished a cup of coffee?” Blader asked, giving me a mutinous look that would’ve made a braver man piss his pants.

I hesitated, “Uh, not to do it?”

Blader nodded. “Exactly, dumb-ass, so shut up.” She returned to her cup of coffee and snatched the paper. She was not a morning person.

I remained silent, glancing awkwardly between the always-silent Biker, the tiredly-quiet Scooter, and the grumpily-quiet Blader. I sighed. I really did like talking, but nobody was in the mood this early in the morning.

Luckily, someone to talk to walked into the kitchen at that very moment. Or, rolled in. A skinny kid in a wheelchair, with a thin, pale face, and dark red hair. Just his hair made people give him strange looks. Anyone with red hair these days had it dyed, but his was clearly natural. It was thought that the red hair gene had died out at least fifty years ago.

He wheeled himself to the table, and pressed a button on the underside of the arm of the chair. Four poles extended from the bottom of the chair, and slowly lifted him up to table height. He grinned around at everybody. His wheelchair had a lot of until now unknown ‘updates’ on it, which gave him the nickname ‘Tech.’

“’Sup guys?” Tech asked, reaching for an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

“Hey, Tech.” I grinned, glad to have someone to talk to.

“What day is today?” Tech grabbed a random knife and started to peel his apple and slice into it.

Blader answered from behind the paper. Her coffee cup was empty now, so she was in a better mood. “Today is the fourth of November in the year 2247 C.E.”

Tech blinked. “I already knew the year, thanks.”

Blader shrugged and folded up the paper, setting it back down on the table. She stood up and refilled her coffee cup. “Then deal.”

Tech rose an eyebrow, the looked around the table. “So, what are we going to do today?” Scooter yawned again, Blader shrugged and took another sip of her coffee, and I sighed, figuring it’d be another day of scrounging around the marketplace.

A loud smack interrupted what I was about to say. Biker had his hand on top of the page of comics on the table, and he looked at us all expectantly.

Blader rose an eyebrow. “Yes, Biker?”

Biker grinned, turning the page over and tapping an article. Everyone leaned forward to read it.

Governess of Smaik Auctions off Family Pearls
Our lovely governess, Mrs. Laveta Gietzen is auctioning off her set of the famous Gietzen pearls at the party she is throwing tonight. The money she raises will be donated to the Lupgen Foundation for the Arts. The bid will start at Φ1,000.

“You are a genius, Biker.” Tech grinned.

“We take the pearls after the money has been donated.” I said, already drawing up the plans for the heist in my head. After all, there was no reason to deny the foundation their money… just the pearls.

Blader nodded. “I’ll get the bags ready this afternoon.”

I shook my head. “No need. We’ll attend the party.”

At this, even Scooter’s head shot up. “What?”

“Like they’ll let a bunch of kids in some high-end shindig like that.” Blader muttered.

I grinned. “No, but they’ll let in the son of a Japanese noble.” I looked pointedly at Biker, whose grin immediately fell off his face.

Blader nodded, starting to see where I was going with my plan. “He’ll be the inside ears, and then once the pearls are put away, we can go in and steal them. No one’ll have a clue!

Tech was starting to grin as well, while Scooter just yawned again. Biker, however, was adamantly shaking his head.

“C’mon, Biker. What is there to lose?” Tech grinned, trying to persuade him. “All you have to do is go in, hang around, make pleasant chatter, and get out, all while wearing a tiny little microphone in the flower on your lapel.”

“But wait, won’t they sweep him for bugs when he gets there?” I asked as the thought struck me.

“Well, yeah, but he can shut it off for that, and then turn it on again when he’s inside.” Tech pressed a button on his wheelchair again and slowly sunk back to the ground. “I’ll be in my lab. Come find me, Biker, I’ll show you how to work the mike.” He wheeled out of the kitchen to the elevator on the other side of the warehouse.

Blader stood up. “I’ll go find some clothes to make him look rich. C’mon, Scooter, let’s go get dressed. Your hair looks like shit.” Blader led Scooter up the stairs to their rooms, leaving the two of us alone in the kitchen again.

Biker sat in stony silence, staring at me.

I gave a nervous grin. “What? It was a good idea. We’ll get the goods, and you don’t even have to stay in there for long. It’s not like you’re actually doing anything, except raiding a snack bar and making pleasant conversation. It’s not hard, right?”

Biker remained silent, a frown growing on his face.

“Look, dude, if the feds figure out who you really are, then we’ll get you outta there damn quick. It’ll all be good.” As soon as I said that, I realized what I’d done. My mouth dropped open.

Biker gave me a ‘duh’ look and stood up, taking the comics with him. He left the kitchen and walked up the stairs, dejectedly slow.

I could’ve smacked myself. The feds. If they figured out who he really is, he’s screwed. He’s here on an expired student visa. And if he’s deported… well, I dunno what’ll happen, but he’s assured me it’s not gonna be pretty. Well, I guessed the only thing to do now was to hope that he wouldn’t be caught. I groaned and stood up. Time to start planning the heist.

~`,~`,~`,~`,~

The elevator door opened, and Tech glanced up. “Hey, Skater!”

I gave a wave and sat down in one of the ‘whatev computers,’ one of the computers that Tech allowed the rest of us to use.

“Hey, how would I find out the layout of the Gietzen mansion?” I asked, tapping despondently on the keyboard.

“Internet.” Tech answered, messing with some wires.

“They have mansion blueprints on the Internet?”

“Duh. The builders publish their best works just to brag to each other.”

“Oh, cool. That’s useful. What about security systems?” I started typing and pulling up 3D blueprints. Pressing a couple more buttons, it came up as a holographic on a nearby table.

“You’ll have to find out what security system the mansion has, and then apply it to the mansion’s hologram.” Tech muttered, grabbing a microscope and working on the little microphone with a pair of tweezers.

“All right, thanks Tech.” I stood and headed for the elevator again, not hearing Tech’s reply.

Three minutes later, I was skimming along the sidewalk on my skateboard, probably the last of its kind. A car, hovering on Mechanical-Energy (ME) drove slowly past, as the occupants smirked at me. I ignored them, and turned down an alleyway, putting my foot down and pushing myself faster.

I knew where I was going. I knew this way by heart. Not to the Gietzen mansion. Home. I was going home.

Avoiding all the main roads, I took the back alleys, and cut across the parks. Pretty soon, I was heading up a street lined on both sides with old, rich, houses. All the lawns were green, all the houses looked the same, and all the cars expensive. The monotony was killing me. Still, I counted. ‘Maple Street, up four houses, turn left, up twelve houses, home.’

Standing in front of my old home, I leaned on the mailbox and stared at the front door. I’d done this a lot, actually. The only person who’d actually seen me was my older brother. He’d never say a word, and I trusted him not to.

I sighed as I watched a blond woman walk past an upstairs window. My mom, of course. She was watering the plants, like she did every day. And she’d prune them every season, sometimes letting me help. If I’d ever prick myself with a thorn, she’d kiss my finger better, and smile, wiping away my tears.

I shook my head from my reverie. I wasn’t going back to that. Besides, I had a mission to do. I turned and kept skating down the drive, marveling at how close we lived to the governor.

Soon enough, I was skating by the front fence of the Gietzen mansion. It was a tall black iron fence, and I put my hand against it, stopping myself. It felt rough, and if I looked closer, I could see that it was beautifully carved with an intricate design.

I shook my head, smirking. “Damn rich people. Always throwing away their money on something pointless.”

I skated along the fence slowly until I came to a small sign near the gate. “United Security Systems. Sounds good.”

I kept skating past, until I got to the corner. Glancing down, I frowned. Marked in spray-paint on the bottom corner of the fence was a rival ter-gra . The Riders. Their sign was a set of handlebars, with skulls on the handles and a large ‘Riders’ on the bar.

While us Wheelers had control of most of Northern Smaik, the Riders controlled Eastern Smaik, with some territory in Southern and Northern. This part of town was under their control. Biker would not be happy.

[ashiko]

File_Open_Gang Files_‘Wheeler’│
Name: Kamiyama Yuki
Alias(s): Biker
Age: 17
Gang: Wheelers
Occupation: Renegade Thief. Thought to be in the gang ‘Wheelers.’
Known History: Born in New Tokyo. Moved to Northern Smaik at 13, student visa expired at 14, joined gang at 17.
Current Location: Somewhere in Northern Smaik. Exact location unknown.
Status: Wanted.


I stood at the front gate of the large Gietzen mansion. I was dressed, as Blader put it, awesomely, with a black suit and tie, and the nicest shoes I’d worn since I moved to America. A pair of pointless glasses sat on my face, in order to disguise myself, and make me look like the stereotypical ‘Asian smart-kid.’ Even worse, the blue tips of my hair had been dyed back to black. I felt like some sort of doll. I hated dressing up at home, and I hate dressing up here. Unfortunately, it was a black tie event.

Straightening my stupid bow-tie, I walked up through the gate, in a flood of richly dressed ladies and other ‘awesomely’ dressed men.

Walking into the foyer, I was checked off a long list of nobles and rich people, and continued into the rest of the mansion. If it looked big from the outside, it was huge on the inside. Gold-curtained walls proved how rich the governor was, and elaborate decorations and paintings were hung everywhere. Pretentious bastards.

I hitched a grin on my face and nodded in pleasant recognition to a few random people. The party was already in full swing, with a few people on a dance floor, dancing to some upbeat song about sex and drugs or something. How in the world do those women dance like that with high heels? I’ll never know. Slowly, I made my way over to the snack table and grabbed some carrots. I love carrots, don’t get me wrong, but they’re extremely loud when you eat them. Unfortunately it drew attention to me.

A young girl, about my age, stepped up to me. She was pretty, a brunette with some sort of sparkly thing in her short hair. She had curves too, and her black dress clung to her, and was a little too short to be really acceptable. She smiled at me, her eyes, a bright blue from contacts, twinkling. “Hey.”

I smiled, a bit shyly. “Hi.” I straightened the glasses that were slipping down my nose, and she grinned.

“You’re pretty cute. Can I get you a drink?”

“Um, sure.” I went along with it. After all, she was really pretty. If any of the others found out about this, I’d get hell for it at home. Ooreshii . I turned down the lapel microphone Tech had been going on about.

The girl poured some punch into a little plastic cup and handed it to me, then made one for her. I watched closely, and she didn’t put anything in it, so I figured it was ok to drink. “Arigato.”

She smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Kamiyama Yuki.” I answered, keeping my face straight. I rarely ever told anyone that. But I had to keep up appearances.

“Nice to meet you, Kamiyama. I’m Rachel Lopczel.” She smiled again. She was smiling too much.

“My family name is Kamiyama. Please, call me Yuki.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “Oh, my bad. Please call me Rachel.”

I nodded, and there was an awkward silence. ‘Whenever there’s an awkward silence, a gay baby is born.’ I blinked, remembering something Skater once said. Honestly, Americans have the weirdest sayings.

Rachel glanced up at me. “You wanna dance?”

I hesitated. I really was not the best dancer around. And I knew it. I could slow dance, the song that was playing was up-beat and fast. “Eh, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Oh, c’mon.” Rachel grinned and grabbed my hand. “It’ll be fun! I’ll show you how.” She started pulling me onto the dance floor, leaving our drinks on the table.

I was about to protest again, but was saved by someone on a loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen. If you would please proceed to the main hall, there have been chairs set up for the auction. The selling of the pearls will begin in a few minutes.”

A tide of people started towards another hall. I turned to Rachel. “Would you mind saving me a spot? Excuse me for a moment.”

Pushing my way through the crowd, I headed for an upstairs toilet. This was probably the most important part of my job.

After checking to make sure the room was empty, I went to the window and opened it wide. Pulling a small tracker from my lapel, I activated it and attached it under the windowsill on the outside wall. Seemed my lapel was a good place to hide things.

Then, not to arouse suspicion, I flushed a toilet and washed my hands, leaving the room, and hurrying down to the auction. Rachel had saved a seat for me, and I smiled gratefully at her before sitting down. My part was done for now.

~`,~`,~`,~`,~

The auction was, as predicted, boring as hell. Halfway through I was falling asleep, and they were only up to Φ5000. This auctioneer was unusually slow. Everybody wanted the pearls.

Something hit my head, and I started, quickly sitting back up. Rachel glanced at me and I gave her a grin, straightening my glasses. She smiled back and looked back towards the stage.

I looked up at the ceiling. A pale face peeked quickly over the rafters, and disappeared. Then it was back. Skater grinned at me, and winked, before his face disappeared again.

Reaching up, I touched my hair. It was wet. I scowled and wiped my hand on my pant leg. He spat on my head. Damn him.

So they were in, which meant that I was all set. Now I could leave whenever I felt like it. Unfortunately, it would be rude to leave during the middle of the auction… even if we were only at Φ6700.

By the end of the auction, the pearls had sold for Φ100,000 to some rich dude with a hard name to pronounce.

As they were carried off the stage, a tall woman with blond hair and a green dress walked to the middle of the stage. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” she began, in a rich voice. “Thank you so much for coming today. I’m so glad. This money will be going to such a great foundation for the arts.” She turned and gestured towards the side of the stage, where there was a skinny old man with a straggly beard and tiny glasses. “Mr. Lupgen, if you would like to say a few words?”

The old man tottered to center stage and took the microphone. “Ah, yes. Um, thank you very much sir. And, uh, everybody else. The, uh, the money will go to a very good cause, like, um, maybe getting a new building… or something.” He gave a nervous grin to the crowd and to the lady. “Governess, you can have the mike back now.”

Mrs. Gietzen took back the mike with a smile that was too big to be real. “Thank you, Mr. Lupgen.” And she dismissed the crowd.

Everybody filed out of the main hall and back into the lobby. People were putting on their jackets and hats and fur coats, so I figured it was an ok time to leave.

Rachel turned to me as she got her coat on. “It was nice to meet you. I hope we can get in touch sometime.”

I nodded. “Yes. That would be great.” It would never happen. I bowed, and left as fast as wouldn’t attract attention.

As soon as I was a block away from the governor’s mansion, I tore the bow-tie off my neck and ripped the glasses off my face. “Ugh,” I groaned and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt.

I walked to the park and pulled my bike from a bush. Carefully, I pulled all the leaves off and made sure that it was dirt-free. I won’t bother telling you what kind of bike it is, mostly because I don’t know. I know it’s a dark blue mountain bike, and it’s been through hell, but it’s my bike.

I swung my leg over the seat and pushed off, relishing in the feeling of the wind on my face, glasses free.

I reached the end of the park and froze as a noise echoed down the dark street. I knew that noise. I could recognize it anywhere.

Not far down the street was a large huddle of ME bikes roaring down towards me. It seemed Skater had neglected to inform me that this place was Rider territory.

I had my foot poised to push off and run for it, even though I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere fast enough. My muscles were tense. I hadn’t had a run-in with them in almost a year. I was, as Blader often put it, royally screwed.

The gang was an ugly lot, all leather and spikes and studs. Embroidered in white were their nicknames on the backs of their leather jackets, above the Rider gang symbol. I still had mine in my closet at the warehouse.

The first guy drove past, and looked at me, a flash of recognition in his eyes. Wheeze; he’s a little stick of a man, who still wore a helmet out of habit. One by one, the gang rode by, staring at me, every once and a while shouting something intelligible.

But there was only one guy I was looking for. At the very back of the group where the gang chief normally was, sat Queer-eyes. He slowed his bike down to a stop in front of me, leering at me from behind his useless sunglasses which got progressively darker every time I saw him. A sallow face, dark hair, and large body could barely distract you from his eyes, one a pale blue, the other a dark brown.

“Hey there Mute. How ya been? How’s them Wheelers, huh?”

Illiterate fool. He’d only been second-in command when I left. I wondered what had happened to Boss-man, but knew better than to ask.

“Staying loud, huh?” Queer-eyes laughed at his own pathetic joke. Up ahead, the rest of the gang had stopped.

Queer-eyes grabbed my handlebar, and my hands fisted on the handles. No one touches my bike.

“Still using this ole piece a’ shit? Pathetic.” He spat at my face, but I kept myself from flinching. I’d gotten used to random things being shot at me from this guy.

I looked straight at Queer-eyes’ glasses, the one thing that I knew pissed him off.

“Say something, dammit!” He shouted, punching my arm.

“Ookiosewada .” I smirked. That was another thing that pissed him off; saying something he didn’t understand. Of course, that meant he could get pissed off a lot, and only by literate conversation.

As expected, Queer-eyes swung at me, and barely dodged in time. His knuckles still brushed my cheekbone, leaving it hurting and throbbing. I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a fight, but I could attack his bike. Dodging another hit, I swung the fake glasses out and hooked the end in his key-ring. With a sharp jerk, I pulled the key out of the ignition and pushed off on my bike, making a quick getaway behind him. I tossed the key over my shoulder as I pedaled away, Queer-eyes’ shouts echoing after me.

“You’ll pay for this Mute! You and the rest of your stupid little gang!”

I’d have to talk to Skater about withholding information from me.

[ashiko]

WARNING: The main character likes to swear. A lot.
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File_Open_Gang Files_‘Wheeler’│
Name: Rae Prosper
Alias(s): Blader
Age: 15
Gang: Wheelers
Occupation: Renegade Thief. Thought to be in the gang ‘Wheelers.’
Known History: Born in Far Edge, Abandoned at 10, joined gang at 14.
Current Location: Somewhere in Northern Smaik. Exact location unknown.
Status: Wanted.


Shingles are uncomfortable. All rough and hard against your ass, especially on sloped houses. I shifted silently, rearranging my skirt. It was a black miniskirt that I wore over black jeans, black socks, and black shoes. Oh, and a black shirt too. I’d look like the goth princess if it weren’t for the fact that I was on a roof. I shifted and leaned back against the chimney, counting stars again.

A slight crackle echoed in my ear. “Yo, is anyone on?” The voice was scratchy through the radio signal.

“Yeah, Tech, we’re here.” Skater said. “Has he activated it yet?”

I stood up and stretched as they talked. “Yup! It’s all good. Blader, you there?”

“Yeah. Where’m I going?”

“Directly north.” Tech directed, and I took off. I’d learned to run silently. I don’t trample across roofs sounding like a drunken elephant.

“Biggest house. There should be an open window facing you. Pretty convenient, right?”

I could see it. But I needed more speed. As I leapt across an alley, I reached down and slid the soles of my shoes open. Four wheels popped out on each foot. I landed, immediately skating across the next roof. The wind whipped my short hair back as I sped across this roof. It’s pretty easy avoiding the jungle of chimneys, air conditioning units, and ducts.

One house to go. I steeled myself, and jumped, aiming for the open window. I tightened into a front flip, sliding my shoes closed and hiding the wheels. Coming out of the flip, I straightened out my body and was suddenly in the room. I landed on my shoulder and rolled. My landing was silent.

Skater’s voice came on through the radio. “Nice one.”

Scouting around, I hurried to the door and peeked down the hallway on either side. No one was there. I darted back to the window and leaned out, looking down. Skater and Scooter stood in the alley. I gave them an ok sign and grabbed a rope off my belt. I tied it to the bottom of the toilet and dropped it out the window.

Scooter climbed up first, and I pulled her through the window. Skater, still on the rope, handed me his skateboard and Scooter’s folded up scooter. It would be easier just to leave them down in the alley, but we knew better than that. Damn things might be gone by the time we were done.

Climbing in the window, he reached back out and grabbed the little blinking tracker. “Who’s bright idea was it to make the tracker blink red?”

“Tech.” I answered.

“Oh, sure, blame the cripple.” Tech’s voice crackled in our ears.

Skater rolled his eyes. “Not blaming the cripple. Blaming the smart-ass. There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.” Tech muttered.

“Oh, quit arguing. Let’s just get this over with.” I snapped, over by the door with Scooter.

Opening the door, I peeked down the hallway, making sure it was empty. I could hear the auction starting, so I signaled to Skater. He slipped down the stairs to the auction, to go let Biker know we were here. Scooter and I went in the other direction, to find a ‘treasure room.’ The auction should be over soon.

Once we found a likely room, we both climbed into the rafters and waited. And we waited. And we [@!#$*] waited.

Finally, Skater darted into the room and disappeared into the shadows in the corner. A couple minutes later, he was crawling across the rafter towards us. “My God that man was slow. It took for freaking ever!”

“Does Biker know we’re here?” I hissed.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you do?”

“Spit on his head.”

“Ass! You could’ve hit someone.”

“I did, I hit Biker.”

“You know what I mean.” I smacked his arm.

“He was sitting with a very pretty girl.” Skater rose an eyebrow at me.

Tech’s voice crackled through our ears again. He was in bad reception though. This room was really deep inside the mansion. “Were they making out?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, don’t be a perv, Tech.”

“I’m not, just asking a simple question.”

“Yeah ri-”

Scooter’s tiny voice rang across the radio. “They’re coming!” I blinked and looked beside me. I hadn’t even noticed she’d gone.

Skater nudged me and pointed to the door.

Two men walked in, a small box in the first man’s hands. They were big, but that was all I could see. The light came in from the hallway behind them. They set down the box on a pedestal and placed a glass case over it. Then they left the way they’d come. As soon as the door closed, Skater and I started moving.

We both sat up, wrapping black scarves around our faces. There was a good possibility there were cameras in here.

We dropped down to the ground. Scooter dropped too, her scarf already in place. She headed for the door and stood watch.

I reached out and grabbed the glass case and was about to lift it up when it burned my fingertips. “Shit!” I snapped, as pain shot up my hands.

“Quiet!” Skater muttered, wrapping his sleeves over his hands. I stuck my tongue out at him as he quickly lifted the case and dropped it on a nearby table. I grabbed the box of pearls while Skater grabbed his board and the scooter.

“C’mon, Scoot!” I hissed, and she quickly followed me.

Tech started directing us out the back door, and soon we were gone.

~`,~`,~`,~`,~

When we got home, I headed straight for the kitchen. I’d left my medical bag on the table. I grabbed the burn ointment and dabbed it on my stinging red fingers before wrapping them up in gauze.

Tech rolled in from the elevator, his arms raised in triumph. “Another successful mission!” He high-fived Skater and Scooter and came into the kitchen to high-five me. Then he noticed my hands. “What exactly happened? I heard you swear.”

“When don’t I swear?” I muttered, holding my fingers out, wincing as they throbbed in pain. They hurt like a [!*@#!]. “The glass case over the pearls was booby trapped… it burned whatever touched it.”

“Ouch.” Tech muttered.

Before I could say anything, a door slammed in the warehouse loading dock. It was our main entrance because it had a nice slant and a lot of locks and chains and stuff. It’s [@!#$*] hard to get down stairs with wheels on your feet.

Soon, Biker came storming into the room. He looked pissed. A dark bruise was spreading across his cheekbone.

“Speaking of ouch.” I muttered, and then stood up. “Biker, what the hell happened to you?”

Biker merely shoved past me, and started pulling up his shirt sleeve. Higher up his arm, the Riders’ ter-gra was tattooed into his skin. Pulling that arm back, he punched the wall beside Skater’s head. There was a loud crack of knuckles against the wall.

Skater’s eyes went wide, his fists clenched. When I got angry, people got scared. When Biker got angry, people got terrified. Biker only remained silent, obviously pissed.

I reached out and grabbed Scooter’s shoulder and pulled her to me. I honestly haven’t seen Biker pissed enough to start a fight, but just in case… He usually took out his anger by dirty tricks, using your weaknesses and fears against you.

Skater’s mouth started moving, but words wouldn’t come out for a bit. When they did, he was stuttering. “L-look, I know I should’ve told you, dude! I-I just thought, well, I thought you wouldn’t meet them! I honestly didn’t know, Biker! I didn’t think-”

“You never think, baka!” Biker spat, and I flinched. I’d gotten so used to Biker’s not speaking; it was always a shock when he did. “You never think about the consequences. One of these days, one of us is going to get hurt!” He pulled away and stormed up the stairs.

Skater sunk down to the floor, his knees giving way. I don’t know what the hell happened to him. Maybe Biker was more terrifying up close, or maybe the truth of his words had finally hit him. Or it could’ve been a mix of the two.

Scooter pulled away from me and ran for the stairs. She wanted to check on Biker. Tech and I both went to Skater.

“Hey, dude, you okay?” Tech murmured, reaching out and poking Skater’s head.

Skater swatted his hand away and looked up at us. His grey eyes looked lost. “I’m sorry, guys.” He said quietly. “He’s right. I need to think more.”

“That’s what we’re here for, dumb-ass.” I muttered, helping him up. “You can’t run a gang on your own.”

“And you can’t withhold information from us either.” Tech added, and Skater hung his head. I have to keep reminding myself that even though he’s older than me, he still hasn’t figured everything out. Tech and I set him down on our moth-eaten couch. I got him a strong cup of black coffee.

He took a sip of the coffee and spit it back out, coughing. “Eugh! Jeez, what’d you put in this?” he cried, glaring at me.

“Nothing.” I answered, grinning.

“Eugh. That’s disgusting.” He scowled and set the coffee down. He was almost back to normal.

I sat next to him, and hugged him. “Listen, Skate. We’re a team. You don’t have to make all the decisions by yourself.”

Tech nodded. “Yeah, dude. We’re like, a family!”

I glanced up at Tech in wonder. Skater just nodded. “Yeah we are.”

I didn’t know what a family acted like. Something like a team, I’m guessing

[ashiko]

File_Open_Gang Files_‘Wheeler’│
Name: Ryan Edward Walker
Alias(s): Tech
Age: 15
Gang: Wheelers
Occupation: Renegade Thief. Thought to be mechanic for the gang ‘Wheelers.’
Known History: Born in Northern Smaik, paralyzing car crash at 7, orphaned at 14, joined gang at 14.
Current Location: Somewhere in Northern Smaik. Exact location unknown.
Status: Wanted.


Less than half a day. That’s all it took. By the next morning, Skater and Biker were back to their normal selves, despite Biker’s bruise.

Rolling into the kitchen, I glanced up at the two. Scooter still wasn’t up, and Blader was hiding behind the paper again, inhaling her coffee like air.

A delicious, savory, wonderful smell wafted over me. I could recognize it, barely. I remembered really liking it.

I reached the table, and pushed my ‘elevate’ button. When I reached table height, I saw a plate of long, brown, sizzling pieces of bacon.

Immediately, I grabbed them, and started wolfing them down.

“Hungry, Tech?” Skater grinned, even though his plate was already empty.

“I haven’t had bacon in so long, man! Who made it?”

“The only guy here who can actually cook,” Skater nodded to Biker, who was busy reading the morning comics.

“Thanks, man!” I said; my plate empty. “Where’d you get it?”

Biker glanced up at me. He held up a receipt for the supermarket. Ah, that explained it. Obviously he wanted to make amends for his outburst last night.

Scooter came wandering down the stairs, rubbing her eyes. She climbed up onto a chair. “Why do I smell bacon?”

“Because Biker is amazing and likes to cook for people.” I answered, putting a plate in front of her. She stared at the bacon for a minute, and then grinned. She jumped off her chair, suddenly full of energy, and ran over to Biker with a huge hug. He hugged her back, and slipped the comics into her arms.

Once our delicious, savory, wonderful breakfast was over, we all went our separate ways, doing what we normally do.

Skater and Biker went on their rounds, about the park and through our territory. They normally collected the ‘donations.’ It’s only about Φ5, much less than other gangs have. Blader was upstairs in the loading dock, which had been converted into our living room, attempting to teach Scooter normal school stuff like history and math and whatnot. I was downstairs in my lab, messing with my new invention; the Compuuu5ter.

The Compuuu5ter is an ingenious (if I do say so myself) little two-way radio. There are two pieces, one is an ear bud that attaches to your music player and can switch between music and radio signals easily. The other is a little microphone that can be attached on the very end of a lollipop stick. Pretty cool, huh? Don’t ask me why I call it, of all things, the Compuuu5ter. I don’t even know.

So, I was sitting there, with my optivisor on, making my eyes seem like the bug-eyes of a dragonfly, and a pair of tweezers in my hand. I’d explain to you what exactly I was doing, but a) it would take too long, b) it would interrupt the telling of this story, and c) you wouldn’t understand anyway. Let’s just say I was attaching some wires to some stuff in the earpiece of the Compuuu5ter.

A red light started going off on the wall, and a second later, an insistent beeping was interrupting my train of thought.

Immediately, I carefully set down my stuff and tore off the optivisor. Soon I was in the elevator and then in the kitchen, where Blader and Scooter were staring at a small screen I had installed on the wall.

“Biker’s distress signal.” Blader muttered as I came in. “He’s at the south park.”

On the screen, a layout of the municipality was slowly being zoomed in to a stationary blinking red dot in the southern park. The distress signal had been installed into Biker’s watch, so either he was standing still or he’d dropped it.

“Why would he have a distress in the park?” Scooter asked, a worried expression on her face.

“We share that park with the Riders.” I answered grimly, my heart sinking as I realized it. “If anything, they’ve had a run in.”

“Uh oh.” She reached up on the table and grabbed her little pink helmet. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Scooter turned and ran for the loading dock door where her scooter was.

Blader turned to me. “You all right to go?”

I nodded and tapped my wheels. “Rocket boosters. Tried and true.”

Blader grinned. “Nice.”

As we started down the road, I pressed a small button on each of my wheels, starting up the rocket boosters. Immediately, I shot past the others. “There should be rockets on yours too!” I called, moving my wheels to make a sharp turn down an alley. Pretty soon, both the girls were neck and neck with me.

Blader grabbed her radio from her belt and clipped it onto her ear. “Skater! Come in Skater!” she paused. “Dammit, Skater, answer your damn radio!”

She paused again, as if listening, as we turned another corner. “Biker sent out a distress signal, he’s at the south park. We’re thinking that it’s a Rider attack.”

She nodded, and then pulled off the radio, tucking it back into her medic bag. Having wires hanging off your head was very annoying when you were worried about your friends.

“He’ll meet us there.” I nodded. I only hoped one of us got there in time.

Skater got there at about the same time as us. He lay at the top of a hill, peeking over the edge. We joined him. It was a large green park, with a big, curving hill, and the river running along from the top of one and down. Wide sidewalks crisscrossed the park, between scenic trees and lampposts.

Below us was a large, ugly gang of Riders. They were all on their ME bikes, their leather jackets making them look like a pack of glittering beetles. They were all arranged in a semi-circle, some boss-looking guy at the very front. And, trapped against the river, was Biker.

He looked all right, not beat up or anything, but was standing with his meager little man-powered bicycle. As the only one facing us, we could see the expression on his face. Well, the lack of expression on his face. His eyes were flicking around the Riders, but he didn’t look very worried. His eyes flicked up to us, where our heads were sticking over the crest of the hill. He made no movement to give us away, but I knew that he knew we were there.

I could hear the boss-looking guy from where we were. “Hey, there, Mute! Not so tough now, huh? You and your stupid little bike.”

Biker remained silent, glaring at the guy. The back of his leather jacket, I knew, had their names. This guy’s name was Queer-eyes. I wondered why.

At Biker’s silence, Queer-eyes grabbed his handlebars threateningly. Even from where we were, we could see Biker tense up, like strings wound tight. No one touches his bike. It has to be in absolute terrible shape for him to let even me work on it.

“Still got that shiner I gave ya, huh? Pretty stupid tryin’ to protect this ole piece a shit.” Queer-eyes started jerking the handlebars back and forth. Biker roughly pulled his bike away from the guy, backing to the river’s very edge.

Queer-eyes laughed and slowly advanced on him. Next to me, Skater stood up. Just one glance at his face told me that he was pissed. He moved to the top of the hill, on the sidewalk. He carefully set his board down and turned back to us.

“Blader, with me. Take the left. Scooter, stay with Tech. You guys are back-up.”

I reached in one of my cargo-pockets and pulled out a remote. “ME disrupter. You gonna need it?”

Skater nodded. “Yeah. Use it.”

Skater and Blader both took off down the hill. Scooter turned to me. “Why can’t I go too?”

“’Cause it’s dangerous. And the two of them are the fastest anyway.” I answered, concentrating on keeping my trigger finger under control and not pressing the disruption button too early.

I peeked back over the hill to watch Skater and Blader in action. Before I was able to see anything, a large hand was pressed over my mouth and my vision went black. Naturally, I started resisting. I threw a punch that I could feel connect with something, causing the hand over my eyes to falter, but my arms were almost immediately held down by another pair of hands before getting tightly strapped to my sides with rope. The ME disrupter fell out of my hand and I heard it hit the sidewalk and get crunched by a heavy boot. My wheelchair was being moved, and I could hear a small tussle to my left as Scooter was taken too. Adrenaline started shooting through my system, but I couldn’t move. I started shivering from all the unused energy, as the hand covering my eyes was replaced by a black bandana, and a sweaty-tasting gag was shoved roughly in my mouth.

I decided, by no choice of mine, to come quietly. I was rolled back down the hill, and then around generally level land. I was entered into a gentle curve, but my right wheel was slightly higher than my left. So… I figured I was being taken around the bottom of the hill. The ground was too bumpy to be a sidewalk.

Up a steep incline, and then to a stop. Behind me, I could hear the labored wheezing of my captor. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the quiet sounds of the river, so I knew we had been taken to the top of the hill where the river cut through it. On one side of the river, it was Rider territory. The other was ours. I had no way of knowing which side I was on. Below me, I could hear the shouts of the Riders as they were attacked by Blader and Skater. It sounded as if the Riders were losing. The rank tastes of sweat and some other disgusting thing were spreading in my mouth from my gag. It almost tasted as if he’d shoved his sock in. A Rider’s sock. Ew.

After what seemed like forever, a voice boomed from down in the fight area. “I’d stop fighting if I were you, Wheelers. We have three of your teammate’s captive.”

I was roughly lifted from my wheelchair, my legs dangling uselessly below me. I tried to move my arms, but the rope bit into my skin painfully. That was going to hurt later. I had the sickening feeling of being dangled over a large expanse, even though I couldn’t see anything. Something cold and round was pressed to my neck and my blood was suddenly frozen like ice. I was being held at gunpoint. There was a still silence from below us.

“Set them free!” Skater shouted. There was a loud click from the other side of the gun as it was cocked, ready to fire. It was loaded. Oh, God, it was loaded! There was a similar click off somewhere to my left as the gun threatening Scooter was cocked as well. I heard a whimper. It could’ve been Scooter. Then again, it could’ve been me. I was close enough to wetting myself anyway.

I heard Skater start talking again. “Queer-eyes! Are we just thugs? Can’t we talk this out like men of business?” Heh, rich coming from the guy who fought over a pillow not two weeks ago.

“You wanna talk? ‘Aight. Let’s talk. Right here, right now. Start yappin’.” He sounded pretty sure of himself. I didn’t blame him. I had no idea how good Skater’s negotiation skills were. God, I hoped they were good. Or at least that Queer-eyes was too stupid to know the difference, which seemed more likely.

“Don’t shoot them. Let them go. You can have the entire park. And up to… Kilbert Street.” That was a lot of ground he was letting go. Almost a fourth of our entire territory.

Queer-eyes knew that too. “Ya sure ya wanna give up that much? A cripple and a little girl are that important, huh? If that’s it, then give us up to Leron Street.” That was almost half of our territory! No way Skater would-

“Okay, fine. Take it. Just let them go!” I stand corrected. Once again, Skater wasn’t thinking before he made a choice. He’d worked so hard to build up that empire, how could he just give it up?

“All right boys. Let ‘em go!” Queer-eyes shouted. The gun was removed from my neck, the gag came off, and I gave a sigh of relief. However, the arm holding me swung back, and then swung forward again. The hand released me, and I flew. A surge of fear shot through me, and I cried out. I heard Scooter scream, but everything went silent as I was encased in cold water. They’d thrown me in the river!

I was pulled along by the currant. My legs were useless, my eyes were still blindfolded, and my arms were still bound. As soon as I realized that, I started to panic. I tried to thrash around, even though the ropes were cutting into my skin. I was going swiftly downhill, rocks and things crashing into me, spinning me, pulling me down. I couldn’t breathe! My lungs were yearning for air, but my head was still below water.

I had no clue which way was up. I tried to push my way upwards, but my head hit something very solid. Okay, other direction. I was starting to level out, so I moved the opposite way. My lungs were burning now, I had to get air! My mouth opened, but the only thing that entered was water, freezing cold and numbing my throat. My mind was going fuzzy, the cold of the water was seeping through my bones, and I made one last jerking movement to attempt to get to the surface. A flash of pain registered in my mind, and I lost consciousness.

~`,~`,~`,~`,~

The first thing I was aware of was air. It was warm, tasted funny, and was being forced down my throat, but it was air! I gasped, and something was removed from my mouth. My eyes flew open, but nothing registered but air. Sweet, sweet air! And then I started coughing. I was turned over and my back was smacked a couple times. I did something akin to vomiting, and water came gushing out of my mouth I coughed a couple more times, until I was sure most of the water was gone. I looked up.

All around me was the gang. Everybody was wet. Scooter looked no worse for the wear, except that she was wrapped in at least two coats and as soaked as a fish.

I tried to sit back on my butt but my legs wouldn’t cooperate and move in front of me. I frowned and tried to move them twice, before I remembered. They’re paralyzed. Duh. How pathetic. Skater reached over and helped me.

A trickle of water from my hair started running down my shoulders, leaving me shivering. And the shivering wouldn’t go away. Quickly, I grabbed my hands, but could barely feel it. They were numb. Damn it. Hello first stages of hypothermia.

Blader quickly caught on to what was happening. She pulled off her jacket and wrapped it around me. Forcefully tugging Skater’s hoodie off him, she started swearing as she pulled it over my head, helping my arms through the armholes.

“Are you ok, Tech?” Scooter asked, sitting on Biker’s lap and hugging him closely. She looked so scared and small.

“Y-yeah.” I said, my shivering making me stutter. Blader started rubbing my arms to warm me up. “Th-thanks, B-B-Blader.”

It was then that I realized all the Riders were gone. “W-what h-h-happened to th-the R-Riders?”

“Land-for-life transaction was complete.” Skater sighed, standing up. “They all drove off the minute you two landed in the water. I gotta tell all the rest of the gang what’s happened. But that can wait until we get home. C’mon.”

Blader started muttering darkly as she helped me up. “Bastards aren’t worth the shit they stepped in. They trashed your wheelchair too dammit.”

On the way home, I sat behind Biker holding onto him. As Scooter’s scooter had been trashed as well, she went piggy-back with Blader.

Biker was pretty warm, like he had some fire burning inside him. If I clung to him tight enough; that warmth seemed to seep through to my bones, just like the cold of the water had done earlier. By the time we got back to the warehouse, I could feel my hands again and my shivering had subsided quite a bit. Blader still insisted on feeding me cup after cup of steaming tea and wrapping me in fifty million blankets, though.

It was strange. Skater seemed pretty cheerful. Sure, Scooter and I had just escaped the hands of death, but we’d lost almost half of our territory. Surely that’d be enough to make him a little sad?

When I asked him about it, all he’d said was, “Yeah, but my family’s alive, right? We can win it back sooner or later.” That left me confused. None of us were related. Maybe we were a family, but we weren’t a family, you know?

I hadn’t really understood then. But I do now. We’d been a family since the very start. None of us had actually known it. They say that blood is thicker than water. That’s true. But the grease we use to keep our wheels turning is even thicker than blood. We really were a family. And we always would be.

[ashiko]

Last section:
_______________________________________________
File_Open_Missing Persons_Missing Children│
Name: Amelia Susanne Greene
Home: 457 E. Poli Rd. Northern Smaik, Smaik Municipality, U.S.A.
Age: 8
Missing Since: 25 August 2247
Suspected Location: Northern Smaik, with the gang ‘Wheelers.’
Status: Missing.


Here I am, sitting here on my bed. Compared to my old bed, this thing could be for a queen. It’s pink and fluffy, and totally different from the old, dirty, thin mattress I slept on at the warehouse. That was probably the only thing I really didn’t like about my year with the Wheelers. That and the lack of donuts.

Registering in my mind is my mother, yelling something at my older brother in a different part of the house. I’m too busy staring out the window at the rain. I’ve always loved the rain. It had been raining when I met my family. My real family.

An eight-year-old me sat curled up on a stack of boxes, staring out a barred window at the gloomy sky. Around me there was silence, only disturbed by the steady beat of the rain. I was cold. I was hungry. I was lonely. I was tired, but too afraid to go to sleep. They hadn’t hurt me yet, but I wanted to go home. A certain despair was tugging at my stomach, making me want to cry.

I never knew how long I was sitting like that, watching the rain fall in the alley outside the window, but eventually I saw a face. It scared me out of my wits, but I was too cold and scared to move anything but my face.

It had been Biker. At first he looked like he usually does; emotionless, but then a flash of surprise spread across his face. Then he disappeared. Soon he was back, Skater with him.

“Hey, are you Amelia?” I could only nod. “Don’t worry, little one, we’ll get you out of there.” Skater gave me an encouraging smile, even though the rain was making his hair fall into his eyes. Then both their faces disappeared.

I had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but to my little eight-year-old, not to mention terrified, self, it seemed like a long time before I heard noises from the locked door. There was a loud thump, and then the door handle started jiggling. I pulled my legs closer to my chest before the jiggling stopped and the door opened. That was my first glimpse of Blader.

She stood crouched, soaking wet, looking for me. As soon as she saw me she rushed over, Biker and Skater just behind her.

Blader had pulled off her jacket and wrapped it around me, enveloping me in warm, dry comfort.

Then Biker picked me up and the three carried me out, through the door, past the various guards lying unconscious on the floor, and out into the rain. From there they’d taken me home, to the warehouse, where I met the last of their group, Tech. He’d already set out a steaming mug of apple cider and some warm food. I was given some of Blader’s smaller clothes to wear, and a bed to sleep in while I recovered from my ‘ordeal.’

Every day for a while afterwards, they asked me for my address so they could take me home. But I never told them. I’m pretty sure that Tech knew, always hacking into government systems like he is. Luckily for me, he always kept it quiet. I never knew if he did so for my benefit, or if he just liked having me around. Either way, I was happy.

So, once they realized that I wasn’t leaving, they got me a helmet. It was cute, pink, and covered with little butterfly stickers. They all (maybe with Tech an exception) wore elbow and knee pads, but not helmets. That made me feel pretty special. I already knew how to ride an ME powered scooter, but since we could only find a man-powered one, I rode that. It felt like I really was a Wheeler then.

I sigh and cross my arms on the windowsill, laying my head on them. I watch a horde of ME bikes roar past on the wet street below my window. Yes, I live in Rider territory. They ride by every couple of weeks or so. Luckily, my parents are pretty consistent in their ‘payments’ so we aren’t given much trouble.

Memories flashed through my head. Memories of leather-clad Riders surrounding us, holding us captive. Memories of being blind to everything but the cold metal gun at my neck. Memories of pushing off from the river bottom just to get some air from the surface. Memories of gasping for breath as the river current pulled you along, freezing you, making it hard to move, even harder to think.

I could never go swimming after that. The fear of being pulled under, blind, unable to move my arms and almost drowning would not go away. Even the shallow end of the pool gave me nightmares.

I turn to stare at the little analog watch on my bed-side table. There’s a small red button on it, next to the alarm button. My distress signal. I’ve never, ever pressed it. I wear the watch every day, and yet it’s never been pressed. But I know that if I do, my family will come to my rescue.
My mother calls for me, her voice muted behind my closed door. I sigh and stand up, grabbing my watch and putting it on. Sometimes I wonder if they’d be angry if I pressed the button just to see them again. Tech would be. Skater might. Blader definitely wouldn’t. Biker… who really knows?

I turn towards my door as my mother calls again. “Coming!” I shout, casting another glance around my room. It’s pink. Full of stuffed animals. Comfortable. And such a stark contrast to my room at the warehouse. I smile and head for the door. I do miss my family. But I know they’d rather me be here, where I’m safe and comfortable, than out risking my neck with them, where I’d rather be. There’s nothing I can do but make the best of it. Because that’s what a family does. Make sacrifices for each other. And always, always love each other.