Not Writing Is As Important As Writing

I Wonder If This Is How Is Is With All Evil Men, That To Someone, They Look Just Like Good Men, Talk Like Good Men, Are Just As Likable As Good Men.

I Can't Force You. I Can't Make You Want To Survive This." He Pulls Me Against Him And Runs His Hand Over My Hair, Tucking It Behind My Ear. His Fingers Trail Down My Neck And Over My Shoulder, And He Says, "but You Will Do It. It Doesn't Matter If You Believe You Can Or Not. You Will, Because That's Who You Are.

Sometimes I Still Forget To Look For The Gentler Parts Of Her. For So Long All I Saw Was The Strength, Standing Out Like The Wiry Muscles In Her Arms Or The Black Ink Marking Her Collarbone With Flight.

The Shouts Of Triumph Become Infectious, And I Lift My Voice To Join In, Running Toward My Teammates. Christina Holds The Flag Up High, And Everyone Clusters Around Her, Grabbing Her Arm To Lift The Flag Even Higher. I Can't Reach Her, So I Stand Off To The Side, Grinning. A Hand Touches My Shoulder. "well Done," Four Says Quietly.

Maybe I Was Afraid To Trust Him With Something So Personal As My Devotion.