posted on 23-Jan-2002 3:44:33 AM by scifidreamer
Umkay, first of all I'd like to thank the admins. of this board for taking the time to care for, maintain, and fix this board, thank you sooooooooo much, this place is fabulous, and all your hardwork and dedication are so much appreciated. If anything this story is dedicated to you, I hope you like it. Thank you again.
I hope it shows up. If not I'll type it all up, but's it's not at all a problem 'cuz I'm a computer dunce and probably screwed up some how.

Okay it didn't work the first time so here's me typing it; I profusely apologize for any and all spelling/grammatical/general errors. Any advice/help is so gratefully appreciated.

Title: Images From the Mind
Author: Jane Doe
Disclaimer: In my dreams I own Roswell, and Zan wouldn't have gone down like that. In real life, however, they belong to JK, Melinda Metz, the UPN, and probably a whole bunch of other people/corporations. So don't sue please...I'm just a poor college student, so you really wouldn't get a thing.
Summary: The aliens are still aliens. Max and Isabel grew up in Clovis, and are moving w/ their parents to Roswell. The Harding's are regular people who adopted Tess. Michael still likes to sulk, and Alex is alive. Liz is frustrated with trying to be perfect, and just wants to live. Things aren't always how the first appear (cliche, yes...but it just fits so well). Sorry if that's a crackhead summary.
Category: M/L and the gang, AU, primarily Liz's POV
Rating: R for violence and language (NC-17 will be labeled appropriately)
Author's Note: Okay this is my first posted fic and my little fantasy world, it just so happens to be that I don't know how things go down in New Mexico...I'm taking a few liberties...w/ a lot of things actually *happy* . Ummm they're all going to be beginning their Junior year (soon) so as of now they're all 16. Somethings might happen similarily as they did on the show, but w/ my own twist (so I do know and respect the OG ways). Let's see what else?...oh yeah, Tess isn't the dumb ho we all know and hate from the show. At first I wasn't going to use her, but I've seen several cool versions of her out there, Incognito's, Interrupted Girl's, Watcher Tara's, and several of DMartinez's to name a few, so I thought what the hell.
Feedback: If you'd like too. Feel free to voice your opinions...suggest things, question things, correct my grammar...whatever fits your fancy. Assistance/help/constructive sritiques are always appreciated. If you don't like my story that's cool, I apologize in advance.
And w/ that I think all my bases are covered.

Part 1

The amazing thing about innocuous comments, is that they're the ones that can mean the most.


So check it, little Liz Parker was long gone by the time Max Evan's showed up. In her place came a person who wasn't timid or afraid; who didn't back down or cower. Who knew how to hotwire a car in less than 20 seconds [mischevious grin]. I left that sniveling, brown nosing dweeb locked in the basement. I just never realized the impact Max would have in my life. And you know what? I would change a thing.

Maria, Alex, and Michael are my best friends; well after Max. Isabel, Tess, and Kyle are really close friends as well. It's like we're one freakin' family. And yeah that makes me break out in this completely cornball smile. I disappoint myself sometimes. Maria, Tess, and I have been partners in crime since the beginning. Maria's the shit. She's a fun, cynical, smartass who can bullshit like no other; owning a Maria filter is a must. Tess is...well...Tess. She's just one crazy ho. Tess and I met when we were both just strolling down an alley, with a crowbar, at 2:30 in the morning (long story, I'll get to that later). It was all just fun from there. Tess and I definitily aren't good for each other, it's like we feed off each other's craziness, energy, rush whatever you want to call it. Hmph, Maria drives the getaway car. The three of us together is anarchy baby.

Maria has long, blonde wavy hair, these piercing green eyes that won't let you lie (believe me, I've tried) and flawless porcelain skin. She dresses like the techno-flower child she is, ie: reveling flower or pyschedelic print shirts with tight skirts or pants. There're two things she'll always have on her person: 1) lip gloss and 2) aromatherapy vials. She can cuss you out in four languages (Italian, Portuguese, English, and Spanish) and bitch slap like the bestest, meanest, greatest pimp ever. We've been friends since we were five.

Tess has short, curly, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a better body than me (than again doesn't everybody?). She owns like, 6 pairs of Vans, tells (almost) everybody that she despises skirts (she doesn't), wants to be She-Ra, and "...will not hesistate to shove my skateboard so far up your ass the wheels will pop outta your eyes...". She goes berserk if anyone tells her she resembles a gerbil (chinchilla is no better, trust me). And if you're a homie she's got your back no matter what.

Isabel is tall, has, get this, long BLONDE hair (I'm beginning to notice a pattern here) and hazel eyes, that just seem to go on forever. She and I got thrown together by circumstances, and managed to form a strong, solid friendship based on mutual trust and respect. She's a bitch after my own heart, and can put the smackdown better than The Rock. Man she kicks ass (literally, especially Max and Michael's, which is really quite entertaining). Isabel is beautiful, knows it, and dresses to accentuate.

And me. I'm Liz Parker. Bad ass extrodinaire...Ri-ght.


[ edited 13time(s), last at 20-Oct-2002 5:59:09 AM ]
posted on 24-Jan-2002 3:24:12 AM by scifidreamer
All info in first post.

Thank you for leaving feedback, it's greatly appreciated.

Mara is a Dreamer yeah, just why do they all have blonde hair? As a brunette I say more power to Liz, you're unique *wink* .

Part 2

Straight up so I guess a little back ground information is needed huh? Shit, I guess I wasn't always this way, wasn't always a wild child. And this isn't some phase. I'm not rebelling against my parents, I love them dearly. I just found out who I really am, who I can be. Things aren't what they always seem (cliché as that may be) and not only does that come in handy, it can be fun. So let the games begin.


I don't really know where the beginning is, or in fact what should be considered the beginning. The day I had a frickin' bullet put a hole in me? The week Max and Isabel moved to Roswell? My first run in with the sheriff and his deputies? Maybe it's when Michael became a part of our little "clique"? Or better yet maybe it's the night I really got to know Tess? I think it's that day actually, when I decided I couldn't handle any more compliancy; when I just had to somehow free all this unexplainable animosity I had building up in me. Lucky for me I never thought I was some kind of freak just 'cuz I had this rage (Maria says it's 'cuz I'm a passionate person, okay that works for me).

My life as a delinquent was a gradual process, and then *BAM* before you know it you’re telling the principal that it really wasn’t you who stole, then put all of the boys 5th period gym’s underwear up the flagpole. And then the dumb ass still suspends you for two days, chicken head. But that, that’s just a prank. There’s a fine line you walk when you lead the exciting life of a criminal (can’t you just hear the sarcasm). See we could just be mean pricks, you know robbing innocent people and shit. But we don’t. We’ve got our own morals and standards. And even with our petty vandalism (which I personally find to be the most fun, and also to be a great stress reliever) there’s a method to our madness.

It may have started out as a rebellion against the chains that tie me to normal, a way to not be me. But in the end in took that thought so much deeper. It was about finding yourself in the sea of adolescence. Becoming the adult you were meant to be. Taking responsibility (a loaded word). And then about finding our friends…our family, a way home.


She looked at the window, a bored look adorning her face. Would life always be this monotonous? She glanced down at her watch 2 more hours of this. Of pretending she wasn’t bored out her mind. Of pretending these people were interesting. Of pretending she was happy with her life. And then…and then she got to go through the same routine at the Crashdown. It wasn’t so bad there. There she at least got paid to act like she enjoyed her life. Like she was actually content to serve these fools.

“Liz. Liz.”

She looked away from the window, “Hmm, what?”

“Girl, I know John Donne isn’t the most fascinating person out there, but I’d at least look interested before you get called on and everyone knows you were spacing,” Maria whispered.

Liz made a little face of distaste, “Thanks Maria.”

“I know chica. Just three more weeks though.”

“Ms. DeLuca, do you have new insight into the works of Mr. Donne?”

She looked forward and gave the teacher a small smile, “Well sir, Liz and I were just discussing whether there was any further symbolism behind the red apple. We found it to go beyond meaning just temptation; his specific use of ruddy, a word meaning blood red-”

“Alright Ms. DeLuca, that’s plenty enough…”

Liz looked over at Maria, giving her a big smile, and mouthed “Way to go.”

“Thanks,” she mouthed back.

The period continued at a snail’s pace. Just two more hours than, and she was outta here. Maybe Kyle would want to do something later?


I had to do something different. Something nobody would expect me to do. Now I could've change my wardrobe, but I was actually satisfied with my clothes. Dyed my hair, hmm had potenial. No, this was beyond physical alterations. This was about being fed up with the role I was playing…of who I was. I like me; I was just bored with me. It's weird to try and explain it. There were certain aspects of me that are fundamental to who I am. But this rage I felt, this need to just explode, I had to let it out before it consumed me. Before it began to eat away at me.


My shift at the Crash ended two hours ago. I’m here pacing my room, clenching and unclenching my fists. I finished all my homework. I pause in front the mirror, maybe I should join a gym or something. Pick up kick boxing. Anything that allows me to hit things. The image I see reflected back looks so foriegn to me. How can I only be me, and yet not recognize that person in the mirror?

I pick up my journal, maybe writing will help. I should just write whatever words come to mind. Don't think, just write. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then just write

Through the looking glass there I stand. Through that two-way mirror I stand
My mind swirls around me but that image is concrete. It stares out at me
A hundred emotions, expressions, conveyed through that blank look.
Empty eyes that stare at me. Empty eyes that see through me.
A frozen pond, Glass Lake,
And nothing moves, but my- our- heart thumps. My churning world compacts around me
Then decompresses. Images of stellar beauty and worldly crap haunt me.

Hmm, okay. So I'm guesssing poetry isn't my strong point, it still helped...kinda. I wonder if Kyle's home?

"Hey Sheriff, this is Liz, is Kyle home?....He's not....Well will you just please tell him Liz called....Yeah I was just wondering if he had some notes I needed, I'm sorry to call so late....Okay well thank you Sheriff...Bye."

Three and a half hours later I snuck outta my room at 2:30 in the morning. I just had to clear my head. I couldn't rest. I felt so jumpy and edgy, I swear it felt like I was going to claw at myself. It was nice and kinda cold. I didn't really have a specific agenda on my mind that night. I didn't exactly go out with the intention be disruptive I guess. I just felt that if I didn't break something, something was going to break me. But as I walked down the back alley, I passed the shed, and there lying next to the wall, was a crow bar.

I have no idea why in movies they always show the actor's wielding them like they weigh nothing. It was pretty damn heavy, but that was oddly reassuring. At least if I had to hit someone with it, once I got it up it could just go down, hopefully on them...and hard. Now Roswell isn't the biggest town in the world, so strolling down the sidewalk where anyone could possibly see me, and then snitch to my parents was out. I don't think they'd be too pleased. You know 'cuz it's dark...and dangerous...and stuff. But this was me, Liz Parker, doing something I wanted to do, whether or not it was the smartest, or safest thing to do. HA, look out world (Maria says people can't always tell I'm being sarcastic when I deadpan like Gore. Yeah well Maria likes to sniff things so there...don't tell her I said).

So I picked up the crowbar, and resolved to get to know Roswell's back ways. Who knew I wasn't the only one out there hoping for a little mischief?


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 25-Jan-2002 12:30:26 AM ]
posted on 25-Jan-2002 3:57:34 AM by scifidreamer
not mine don't sue; all other info in first post.

once again thank you for the feed back.

yep wild_child_uk this where she meets Tess. And this is soooo an M/L fic. Liz is just friends with Kyle now, but she knows that he knows how to have illegal fun (think back to Blind Date, underage drinking, etc.) hope that helps *happy*.

Part 3

Listen up, Tess moved to Roswell about two years ago. Now in town like Roswell by the seventh grade all the little "cliques" that will determine your future and eventually claim your soul are formed. It's rare that groups change or significantly alter their creeds. And so if you're not willing to conform to a said groups dictations of "healthy" behavior and acceptable attire you are ASSED out. This cardinal rule is followed by all groups; jocks, band geeks, "nerds", cheerleaders, druggies, skaters, thugs, your regular ol' run-of-the-mill-nothing-special-about-them teenage groups (yay me. this is where my friends and I fit in), even by our small and humble Goth/freaks group. Tess never has been one to play follow the leader, or double dutch for that matter, very well. So she kinda just flitted between some groups, never really content. Until, of course, I came along. And opened up a whole new world of pissin' on the rules, and still managing to get good grades.

Sadly Tess' crush on Kyle was easier to spot than mine on Max. Tess. Hmmm, just how do I go about explaining the dichotomy that is Tess? Her powers are incredibly strong, but the girl has read too many Star Wars books, and so like the great Jedi Mara Jade (second only to She-Ra) she refuses to rely or use her powers extensively, fearing the lure of the dark side. Now this is actually quite sensible in my opinion, it's just when she starts rambling on about the Jedi code that people start walking away. Well except Alex. Man you should here those two debate Star Wars minutia; you know it's about to get ugly when they each whip out their Star Wars' Encyclopedia. But I digress. Tess has the awesome ability to mind warp sentient beings. Now it's cool in aiding the pulling of masterful, genius pranks on the unsuspecting moronic populace of West Roswell High, or for breaking into compounds and warehouses the local/state/federal government really would prefer one stay out of, but it ain't cool for duping people. We really try to not ask her to do things that could slowly whittle away at her humanity. It's weird trying to explain and justify our own contorted sense of morals and ethics. I guess the best example I could give of what it's like is that saying "honour among thieves” or something similar to that. Now I mention this to segue way into how Tess and I met in the middle of the night, in an alley, each wielding a crowbar. I was frustrated; Tess was just insane.


For all that life has to offer. For all that life holds, surely there must be someway to reject it all. For all the ten years of her life she has known she was different…defected…alien. Sure her mom and dad loved her, but would they still claim her as theirs if they knew just what of kind of freaky monster she was. So badly she wanted to believe that "A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away…" was here right now. Maybe she was a Jedi sent across the galaxies to save earth. Maybe the Jedi council sent her here… to a world that feared that which it didn't know or understand or couldn't reason… on a reconnaissance mission. But the one thing she had to believe was that she wasn't a part of some crashed alien landing. That was fake. That had nothing to do with her. Man fuck this shit. Fuck everything. A little chaos'll do everyone in this popsicle stand town some good.

I came upon Tess, innocently strolling, is the best way I can put it. It's like it was the middle of the day, and she was enjoying a walk in the park. I stopped, looking at her warily, wondering what the hell anyone would be doing going for a walk at this hour of the night, sporting a crow bar. Yes I realize I was doing the same, but sometimes the most obvious things escape your notice…particularly in a moment of shock.

"Hey," she nodded the universal what's up.

She spotted the crow bar, and smiled. It was this deviously, excited smile, and it put me immediately at ease. She hefted her own and said, "Just gotta let loose."

I smiled back and agreed. "Um Tess right?"


"I got you're back, you got mine?" Now I have no idea what possessed me to ask, though I'm glad I did. I guess I just sensed a twisted sort of camaraderie with her. Maybe I wasn't the only one with issues that begged to be released in a violent fashion.

"Sure, where you heading?"

I shook my head, "Don't know yet."

"There's a run down building about a mile north of here. Clearly has potential. Lot's of things to break that'll make loud noises."

"Lead on," I moved by her side. We walked in relative silence, both lost in our own worlds of tortured teenage angst. Both imaging random thoughts of peace.

We came to this old apartment building, from an era long gone of big flowers and brass; when the colors pea green and burnt orange were all the rage. Crap man, people in the 70's dropped too much acid. "Um Tess, how are we going to get in, the windows are all boarded up, and the door has chains…everywhere?"

"Hey don't worry about it, just go make sure no one's coming, I'll whistle when I got it all taken care of. Cool?"

"Yeah." I walked back down the pathway, lurking behind the pieced out property sign. Was I really going to do this? Did I have a choice? Destroy or be destroyed. Heh, I kinda like that. I heard a low whistle, damn that was pretty quick. (See what I mean about those alien powers coming in handy?)

We separated, going into the various rooms and then met up at the bottom of the stair well.

"Save it for a later day?" she asked looking up into the ascending darkness. I always thought you descended into darkness, the unknown. The gloom and obscurity of a hidden hell.

"Hells yeah." Why worry about some unrevealed hell, when purgatory was offering its respite now?

We walked into a room, I just kinda looked around, and then it fell over me like a heavy blanket. Weighing me down, smothering me. Smothering me, extinguishing my life. Extinguishing my life, and forever sealing my fate. (hey everyone's allowed a little melodrama now and then). And I just flowed with it. With the thoughts rushing in my mind faster and faster, again and again. All clamoring for my attention. More, more, more.

God I was just so sick of being everyone else's version of perfect. I saw an old easy chair. Fuck! I'm not perfect! I brought the crowbar over my shoulder, you hear that? NOT PERFECT!! I brought it down with all my might. It was a shock, that first blow. I felt it all the way to my bones, numbing my arms, and I almost lost my grip on the crowbar. I blinked the tears out my eyes, and stared dumbfounded. Alright, so this piece of shit chair wanted to fuck with me did it? I swung the crowbar like a bat, aiming for the cushioning on the back. The chair tilted back before falling forward. NOT PERFECT. Man this was so enlivening. It's hard to describe the rush I felt, as I swung that crowbar over and over again. I was breathing heavy through my mouth, my chest heaving, my hands burning from gripping so tightly. NOT PERFECT. I brought the crow bar down as hard as I could…I was getting one hellva work out. The crowbar snagged on the material, but I would just yank it out.

I remember seeing Tess out of the corner of my eye, beating the shit out of a bookshelf. Pieces of wood splintering, sometimes flying out. We moved around each other, an orchestrated dance of frenzy. It was a wonderful cacophony of grunts, wood cracking, the occasional ping as a small metal object were smashed beyond recognition. Plastic ripped apart, shredding with each blow (apparently plastics weren't as well manufactured then as they are now). God only knows how we managed to avoid hitting each other. By the time we were through, I think just about every object had been broken, every surface scathed.

We didn't talk right away after, just stood in our respective corners, gasping for air, our bodies cooling down; giving each other the solace needed to regroup and the comforting knowledge of tacit assistance and acceptance. I finally looked up, and noticed her watching me. She looked at the destruction around her, and nodded her head in approval. I gave her a half smile.

"Angry much?"

She shrugged, "Never thought you'd have it in you Parker."

"Guess you thought wrong."

"Guess I did."

We left then, retracing our steps back to our problems.

"Hate life?" I asked.

"Nah, not really," she threw her crowbar into some bushes. "You?"

"Not too much."

"Want to talk about it?"

We both just looked at each other, then busted up in a fit of giggles, falling against each other. Finally we calmed down.

"Thanks Tess. This was…fun." I started walking back home.

"Yeah. Hey Liz," I turned around, "if I ever did, I'd be sure to burden you."


I couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would have in store.


[ edited 3 time(s), last at 28-Jan-2002 1:48:47 AM ]
posted on 28-Jan-2002 3:00:44 AM by scifidreamer
thank you wild_child_uk for the fb *happy*.

all info in first post.

Part 4

The next day was amazingly ordinary.

I wasn’t bored with life; of course it was the weekend. Two fun filled days of serving greasy (but good) alien themed food to the masses. Happy days are here again.

But seriously I actually felt content…I guess is the word I’m looking for. I couldn’t wait to tell Maria what I did. It was so…liberating. I didn’t know if Maria would understand exactly, but I knew she would listen, and know not to question. Maria wasn’t under stress from any self-imposed strictures of perfection. She knew she’d fuck up sometimes, as long as she could deal, the world could fuck itself.

It took me awhile to fully learn and accept that. I still sometimes have trouble with it. It kinda sucks when your heart leads you wrong.

I saw Tess at work. We talked for a bit, about unimportant things. Things that wouldn’t weigh down what happened the night before. Tess can make a whole bunch of what will seem to be stupid or irrelevant remarks, but which in reality are statements central to figuring out who she is. Of course you only realize this after you’ve gotten to know her. What’s that saying about hindsight being 20/20?

We didn’t make any definite plans. You can’t plan to be someone’s friend. There is no schematic to follow. A schedule that lets you know “oh week two; share detail of life, but nothing to intimate” or “day three; can now include in lunch plans”.

Some people share shit that *nobody* or at least nobody you don’t trust, should know, right when they meet new people. “Yeah I’ve given head to three guys”. You dumb ass, you think that makes you cool? Makes people think you’re down for fun? It makes them think you’re a frickin’ chicken head and stupid for telling people you barely met personal shit like that. “I smoke out every weekend”. That’s nice, why you trying to pose? You think alerting everyone to the fact you’re a wannabe pothead is going to get you friends faster? That they’re going to like you, make you a member of their little group? You’re an idiot, what they are going to do is use you; more than likely you’ll be the patsy.

Sorry don’t mean to go off, but there are two things I can’t stand: 1) people who front and 2) dumb ho’s (another rant for another day).

Where was I? Oh yeah, it’s been my vast experience (in all 18 years of my life) that friendships are like scotch; they both get better with age.

So I let things with Tess go at their own pace.


“Hey girl, saw you talking Tess-“

“Oh yeah, Maria-“

“She has to do with this “exciting” news you’ve been dying to tell me all day,” it wasn’t a question.

“Are you going to be a smartass ‘cuz I could just-”

“No tell me I wanna hear,” she walked behind the counter.

“Alright, when do you get off work?”

“Two hours. Oh hey Liz, you’re still coming with tonight right? Alex said he’d drive.”

“Yeah. He’s not going to demand gas money is he? I swear you’d think he was driving us to Albuquerque.”

“I don’t know. So anyways, tell me as we get ready?”

“Cool,” the bell jingled, “your favorite customer’s here,” Liz said walking into the storeroom.

“Wha- oh no,” she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and prayed to Buddha for control.

“Welcome to the Crashdown, my name’s Maria I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with something to drink?” she asked as politely as she could manage.

“What are your specials?” he asked picking up a menu.

“The same thing as last Saturday, and the Saturday before that,” she replied pasting a sugary smile in an attempt to lessen the bite of her words.

“Refresh my memory,” he leaned back in the booth.

“Damn it Michael, you do this every Saturday, and yet you still order the same thing every frickin’ time you come in here,” she said in a fierce hushed voice.

“Hey, I pay for quality service. I expect quality service.” He leaned in towards her.

She clenched her teeth, just staring at him, if looks could kill…. “Fine,” she growled. “Today’s special is the Trek ribs platter, blood of alien smoothie, and a piece of men in blackberry pie for $11.99. What. Would. You. Like. To. Order?”

“Hmmm,” he rubbed his chin, “I think I’ll have a cherry coke, will smith burger, and Saturn rings.” He looked up at her, a tight smile spread across his face.

“Fine. I’ll be right back wit your drink.” She turned on her heel, fighting the urge to stomp.

“Damn punk. ‘What are your specials’, ‘My burger’s over cooked’, ‘I asked for no mustard’,” she mumbled under her breath. “I’ll give you no mustard.” She put the order in.

“Trouble in paradise,” Liz asked with a smirk.

Maria looked at her sharply, “Oh you think you’re so funny. That boy is so damn irritating. All he does is complain. Nothing is ever good enough.”

“Yeah well you’re the only one he bugs.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Side?” she gave Maria an incredulous look.

Maria hmphed as she walked away to help her other customers.

“Miss? Excuse me miss!” he hailed her.

She rolled her eyes, walking over to him. “What outta Tabasco sauce?”

He picked up his glass and rattled it, “Just thought you should know your tip is exponentially decreasing with the amount of time it takes you to refill my drink.”

She counted to ten, in hopes of controlling her temper. “Fine. Cherry coke?”

“Yeah. And I only want nine ice cubes this time, my throats a little sore.”

“Like I care,” she said under her breath.

“Excuse me what was that?”

“No problem.” Argh, one of these days she was going to go off. And no person in their right mind would hold her responsible.

In the end, when she went back to help clear off his table, she found a napkin with the message

Quit being such a smart ass and you
Just might get money next time.

She just about busted a blood vessel.


So what were that evening’s big plans you wonder? Well it was my first rave. It was cool and all though I don’t get what all the commotion is about, the atmosphere was pleasant. Nobody bothering you with meaningless chatter, or judging you. Everyone’s just there to have a good time with or without the aide of E. it’s so easy to get lost in the music. Just let it take over. And no matter how you dance you really can’t look stupid.


“Alright chica spill. What happened last night with Tess?” Maria asked pulling open my door.

“It’s not that big a deal. I mean it’s not gossip or anything.”

“Alright that’s cool. But it seems like it’s pretty important to you.” She laid out on my bed.

“Are you going to shower here?” I asked. I don’t know why, but I was eager yet afraid to confide in her. I trust her explicitly, but there’s always this niggling fear of rejection. To have something that is important to you scoffed at or belittled, kinda really sucks.

“Yes, you know I am; stop stalling and spill,” she patted the space next to her.

“Alright, alright, alright. But no interruptions till I’m done,” she brought her hand up to her chest with an astonished look. “Yes you.”

“Fine…what about gasps of surprise, those are allowed right?”

“Seeing as how they’re a natural reaction and it’s you we’re talking about, yes they are.”

“Liz, if I didn’t know you better I’d be hurt.” I rolled my eyes. “Well start already. ‘Maria last night I …’,” she prompted

“Last night I couldn’t …rest, I guess. I was ill at ease. I tried everything, warm milk, cheese, counting sheep, I even wrote a poem-yes I’ll read it to you later,” Maria closed her mouth. “So anyways, I tried everything. Well finally I decided screw this I’m going for a walk. I don’t know where I was going to go, or if I wanted to do something. I just knew I had to get out. Walking past the shed I saw a crowbar, so I picked it up, you know, so I would have some kind of protection. Then I just started walking. A couple of allies down I saw Tess, sportin’ a crowbar as well. I thought what the hell is somebody doing out at this hour of the night?

"To make a long story short, we talked for a bit then she showed me this old, run apartment building. We played explorer on the bottom floor…blah, blah, blah. Then we took our crowbars to a room. Maria it was so freeing. Like all of a sudden I wasn’t so angry. I mean I didn’t even know I harbored such hostilities. I kept thinking ‘not perfect’ with every swing. And each time something cracked or broke, or went flying I wanted more,” I looked over at her.

“I confess, some of my thoughts were of a melodramatic nature,” cue sheepish look, “but it was fun. And Tess was cool.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight. You go for a midnight walk-,”I shook my head, “okay a later than midnight walk; met up with a girl you barely know; walked to an abandoned building; where you then proceeded to demolish a room and all it’s furnishings; all the mean while forming a twisted bond rooted in your violent tendencies?”

I nodded in my head, “I knew that you’d understand.”

She chuckled, “You know what babe? I do, I understand. I’m thinking, thinking, that the important thing here is that, even if just for the moment, you’re not angry. Which means that you can party like it’s 1999 with us tonight”

“I knew you’d see the really important issue at hand,” I leaned to hug her. “Now get your ass up so we can get dressed.”


See the cool thing about raves, is you really don’t have to dress up. You can dress like a Raver, or you can just dress comfortable. No 3 inch heels killing your feet or other torture contrivances masquerading as fashion sense.

We talked a little more as we got ready. Alex was supposed to pick us up at 9:00 pm. We didn’t tell our parents we were going to a Rave, what with all those FOX specials we thought they might be a little dubious. We told them we were sleeping down one another’s house, and to “…just call the cell if you need me.”

We’re really lucky that Maria’s mom still trusts Alex. She lets him sleep over, as long as the door remains open. Which really isn’t a problem. So see we were set.

Maria's mom and Kyle's dad have started dating. Maria isn't quite cool with it yet.

"I mean what is she thinking? The Sheriff? Is he like going to come over every night? Am I going to have to be on my best behavior?

"And I heard them talking about pie, in a sentence that made no sense. What the hell is that about?

"Oh God!! You don't think it's code for something do you? Like something, like it? Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick," Maria went on like that for a while. Her hands were flying everywhere.

"Do you think Kyle knows?"

"Knows what?" I asked

"About our parents."

"What part about your parents?"

She gave me this look. "Lucky for you I can't talk about this anymore or I'll lose my dinner."

"Listen, what time is it?" she asked.

"Umm...8:30. Why?"

"I was just thinking we might invite Tess," she answered nonchalantly.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. I just get this feeling she'd have a lot of fun. Sure you guys might not be able to break things, but you'll still be moving, pounding away to the music," she said with a wink.

"Alright, but I don't her number."

"I think I might have it."

She rumaged through her tapestry bag. "Ah ha!!" she shouted triumphantly minutes later. "I knew I had in there somewhere. I'll call, you finish getting dress. Jesus Liz, you're not getting dressed up. Hurry it up," she said noticing my lack of dress.

I sighed. Sometimes getting dressed was so bothersome. You had to get up, and walk, and exert energy. I know lazy. I wish you could just blink and tada you're dressed.

Maria walked back in just as Alex honked. "She said she be honored in go with us, and I said damn skippy she'd better be. Let's go." She pulled me out the door.

Watch out world.


Same time, 'nother city

"What's your fuckin' problem?" he asked getting up in his face.

"I think it'd be in your best interest to get outta my face," Max said in a low voice.

"Bullshit. I'm gonna fuck you up so badly, they'll be scraping you-"

He was cut off by Max's fist. "I really don't have time for asswipes like yourself. I'm gonna tell you one last time; get the fuck outta my face."

He pulled out a switchblade.

Max barked out a laugh, "Shit what is this, the 'Westside Story'?"

"You're going to pay muthafucker."

Before the guy realized what happened he was face down on the ground, his blade gone, Max's knee grinding into his back.

"Listen I really don't want have to hurt you," he flipped the guy over. He punched him again, "Get a fuckin' clue. Don't mess me with me. Don't come near me. Don't even fuckin' think about retaliating or next time you won't be so lucky." He walked away. Assholes, thinking he gave a rat's ass about any of their shit.


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 29-Jan-2002 1:01:39 AM ]
posted on 16-Feb-2002 6:34:38 AM by scifidreamer
hey everybody, "greetings and salutations"

if anyone is still there I haven't stopped writing it's just that all off sudden all kinds of drama cropped up, and then my professors expecting me to do work *wink*, and physical just kinda overwhelmed me (sigh). but I have been...writing that is, uh, just not in order, does that make sense? and with my roommates rearranging the apartment and switching rooms the computer is Ros access has been severly cut off.

thank you for the bump Lucky Star, I've reading your story when I can find time, and I really like it.

okay mara is a dreamer I'm a total SW junkie too. when I saw your name, Mara Jade is the first thing I thought of, but I didn't think there would be a connection. apparently for some people, not everything is either a Ros or SW reminder *big* . so there was no way I could write and not mention one the most creative influences in my life. I personaly believe that SW thrived most under Timothy Zahn. I'm assuming you're familar w/ his SW work? some of the author's, though great in their orginal works, lacked something when it came to potraying the characters. I don't know if I'm able to express myself clearly, but oh well. glad someone appreciated my SW references. if I ever state any incorrect facts, or leave out important minutia in my sporadic geeky references, please feel free to let me know. and if you're ever bored and just happen to have read all the Ros stories on the board, a terrirfic, absolutely wonderful SW fanfic is Destiny is a Seven Letter Word for Pain by Heather Lynn. it's long, and similar in direction and message to Zahn's Hand of Thrawn duology. there's also a companion piece that I haven't been able to read out.

well I hope that didn't scare anyone away *big* .

so there I was overjoyed that my splint finally came off, when tendon protests from disuse made me long for it again. it's wierd the way I used it as a crutch, and I only had it on for 45 days. I could be in a much more pathetic state *big* . who knew a pinky injury could cause such distress? sad isn't it *wink* ? so rehabiltating my hand and wrist is turning out to be a bit more taxing and painful then originally (and naively) assumed, I hope to have new part out tomorrow or sunday. just thought I'd mention that in case anyone read 'physical therapy' and thought it might actually be something serious and deserving of worry. nope, just my pinky.

hope everyone one has a wonderful weekend.
posted on 9-Mar-2002 2:26:49 AM by scifidreamer
Hey all, know it's been awhile but those damn pinky issues won't go away *big* . at least I know the nerve is growing back, that whole side of my hand has been hurtin' like a bi-otch.

once again thanks for the bump Lucky Star. I know you have a second story out, so seeing as how I don't know the name do you think you could post the links to it and 'Little Sister'? if it's not too much trouble? thanks.

mara_is_a_dreamer have you read any the new New Jedi Order book series that has recently come out? have you read the graphic novel where Luke and Mara marry? just curious.

also thanks for your fb lil' evie. always appreciated.

so on with the show....

Part 5

We picked up Tess and made our way to the Rave. Man it was chaos at first. Everyone trying to get in, claiming to know this DJ or that coordinator. We just paid our $20 bucks each and set to grooving.

If I recall correctly Tess just went wearing a typical Tess outfit; black jeans cut right below the knees, a pink Strawberry Shortcake shirt, and her hair in two pigtails. She really doesn’t wear a lot of accessories and tonight was no exception.

Maria ditched her trademark second skin pants for a pair of red Addias jogging pants (resting on her hips naturally), an orange halter, a spiky bun hair do, and glitter every where. She really did look cute.

And me? I wore blue jogging pants scrunched up around my calves, a white tank, my hair pulled into a high knot, with a folded blue bandana serving as a headband. Damn these things are so hard to describe. Visual imagery can go to hell.

Alex…well I think he wore the same thing he had been wearing earlier, just a different top shirt. Doesn’t that suck, how guys can just change whatever shirt they happen to be wearing on top with a new one, and suddenly they’re like ‘I changed let’s go’?

Did you know they have moon bouncers at those things? You pay $1 dollars for 5 minutes. I had so much fun. I divided most of my time between the moon bouncer and this techno/trance/new age room. The beats were fast but melodic. I felt like I was on some other planet while in that room. Like I was weighted down, and as if I was trying to move through jell-o.

Everything was slow. Pretty trippy, I don’t know why kids need E.

It’s kinda crazy to describe. You’re in this pitch-black room, and there are random light bursts of purples, blues, and white. Very strobe light-esque, and everyone’s movements seem choppy.

And the moon bounce…well we just had to test our acrobatic skills. And may I just state for the record it was Maria who turned everything all WWF. She just had to chest chop Alex. We showed all those kids. You know they were crying for their mommas. Tess told that to some boy. Lucky for her he took it as a challenge and not a front against his dignity. He was pretty cool, and damn cute. She walked away with his number.

Suffice to say we were worn out by the time we left. So what if I made them leave, it was 3:30 am, I was ready to knock out, and someone had to drive.

You know how your parents always tell you never to pull over on the side of the highway, in the middle of the night, all that "it's not safe", "it's too dangerous", "there're serial killers just waiting to take advantage of three stupid kids" crap? Well listen to them.

Nothing like that happened to us (naturally. It always happens to someone else) but that was my disclaimer. We pulled in to the desert about half a mile from the highway and slept for the next 4 hours like babies.

Thank god we were all so tired that if anyone did snore it went unnoticed. Fairly uneventful. That's why I added the disclaimer. I guess we're lucky the shit didn't hit the fan.

A fitting end to normal night for a bunch of regular ol' teenagers.

Ah the bliss of ignorance.


Same night, 'Nother city

He'd been holed down here for hours.

His fists were a blur.

Left jab. Right hook. Left cross.


Mix it up.

Over and over again he slammed his taped hands into the bag. There was no rhyme to it, just a primal rhythm captivating in it's sincerity. It was mindless passion.

What he worked best on.

The sweat dripped off his chin.

Flew off his arms.

Rolled down his back.

Slithered down his chest, making little rivulets down his abs.

It pooled in the depressions made by his collarbone, his belly button, his hips, his lips.

Caused his hair to stick to his forehead.

One last punch sent the bag flying into the wall with a loud thwack. Dust and chalk propelled through the air, floating on air currents.

He sank to the floor exhausted.

Breath coming fast, almost uncontrollably, pumped through an open mouth. His chest heaved.

He took a gulp of water. Licked his lips.

His stare bore into the wall, unseeing. Blank eyes riveted to the same vague scene.

* Her brown eyes dimming with death's flight. *

He tried to get to his feet. To stand, to once again take on the bag. Looking for an outlet for anguish he knew nothing about. And stumbled.

When would it go away? When would the pain stop?


At this point our little group mainly consisted of me, Maria, Alex, and Kyle when he wasn’t involved in some athletics related event. With Tess helping to coordinate and execute pranks she was fast becoming a card-carrying member.

She never volunteered personal information, and we never pressed the issue.

Sometimes she would get this look, like even being surrounded by us she was still alone. I wanted to do something, somehow make her feel more at peace, but I didn’t want to push her away. Maria and I figured the best thing to do was just give her time.

Chillin’ with Tess was cool and definitely different. Nothing Maria likes better than a girl with strong opinions, no matter how inane the topic.

After the Rave she began stopping by more often. Hangin’ during nutrition or lunch and stopping by at The Crash after school. Telling total cornball jokes.

Beating the stuffing out furniture wasn’t something Tess and I did again for a while. But she did help me and a “reluctant” Maria pull off several pranks at school.

It was beautiful; no one ever suspected any of us. There was no reason to; three upstanding, honor roll female students. Perhaps the only upside of the double standard, women aren’t fiends.

That is except for Michael, and only because he was suspected- which Maria would harp on him about outside of school. Every time another prank happened he was pulled out of class and into the principal’s office. One day she told him he had to be special kind of stupid to keep getting caught. That seriously irked him and Maria ran up my room to hide from him.

So what were these pranks you wonder? While there were your usual high school pranks; pulling the fire alarm, setting off stink bombs, putting blue dye in the swimming pool. In that case, other than a few irate students and faculty members, no one was harmed.

In one particular moment of brilliance Maria suggested we combine the fire alarm/stink bomb shtick. What we ended up doing was putting stink bombs behind the alarms on each floor, in two buildings. When the alarms want off the little hammers that would hit bell, would instead crack the stink bombs. All lot of classes were held in the quad and football field that day.

You could feel the love.

I think Alex and Kyle might have suspected us, but they never said anything. Would just kinda give us these weird looks whenever we would break out in fits of laughter for no apparent reason, or they would smile, shaking their heads. They never questioned us about, I admit, our sometimes curious behavior.

Like whispering in codes even we didn’t understand most of the time; or walking with our backs pressed against the walls hands splayed out trailing along, cautiously looking around each corner; or all our drawings filled with stick people and arrows- which were in fact the crayola schematics Tess insisted we draw out for each prank.

But then again none of that would necessarily insinuate us as being the perpetrators, but rather as being a bunch of care-free-spirits, as Maria liked to refer to us. I like to believe they found our antics refreshing.

So by the end of the school year and the time for our final prank Tess was indeed unconsciously opening up.

I think it also helped that this was around the time we found a new friend and compatriot.

Turns out Michael doesn’t mind being suspected or even accused of a crime as long as he was actually in on it. If his name is going to be besmirched, he ought to have had fun doing it.


So we got to know Michael around the same time we were beginning Our Journey of Self-discovery. He already had a rap sheet.

I wouldn't classify him as the quiet type, because that would imply he's shy, and reserved. He's more the silent brooding kind, stereotype image that it is.

He's not always the easiest person to get along with, especially in the beginning, but there's something about him. Some undefinable quality that bespeaks assurance. It's like when I'm around Michael, I know somehow we'll make it through alive, not unscathed, but alive nonetheless.

In the beginning Michael and Maria had a very volatile non-relationship, and there was a constant battle for power. But looking past that you could see that there were some powerful feelings there and that as much as it might pain either one to admit they really cared for each other.

I mean still to this day anyone dares to punk Maria, first they're going to get hell from her and than more than likely Michael will beat the crap outta them.

All on the DL of course. He doesn't want Maria to know.

I don't know whether or not he does it out of a misguided quixotic notion of chivalry or what. I kinda think it's cause he doesn't want her know just how much he cares for her, and naturally ‘cuz he doesn't want her to take his deeds the wrong way and get all pissed off at him.


He was anxious to see the perfect execution of his first prank with us, contributed many an excellent idea, and was a great aide, even without his alien powers.

Since we had demurely asked Alex and Kyle while kicking their asses at pool, whether they had the balls to go through our idea, all of us were all excited to see it implemented with style.


Roughly the same time ‘Nother city

“You’re what!?” Philip Evans hollered at his son bringing his hand to his forehead.

“How did this happen Max? Why?” his mother, Diane, plaintively asked, “I thought you agreed no more?”

Max just stared at the floor, his face expressionless.

“Expelled! I can’t believe this. You have so much going for you, why do you always screw everything up?”

“Phillip!” his mother exclaimed.

“What Diane, it’s true! Look at me Maximus. What do you want? Do you want me to punish you? Take away your car? Your phone privileges, your TV privileges? Want me to yell at you? What do you want me to do Max?” his father asked, his voice pained.

Isabel Evans pressed her ear against the door, her nails digging into the wood, a tear slipping down her cheek. ~Why Max? Why?~

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 9-Mar-2002 2:39:59 AM ]
posted on 10-Mar-2002 12:24:04 AM by scifidreamer
thank you so much mara is a dreamer, Lucky Star, Rapunzel, LiLEvEe, Tea B7, roswellluver, and Ner for reading and leaving fb. you didn't have to but you did, so thanks *big* .

mara is a dreamer originally wrote:

Is Max connected to Liz?Is she the girl he sees in his visions?And why is he in pain?
I guess he will ask his parents to move to Roswell to begin a new life or maybe his parents will send him there .

to answer your Q's (this is kinda spoilerish) yes max is somehow connected to liz, yes she is the girl he sees, and yes he will be moving to Roswell. as to why he's is in pain you gotta wait and find out. thanks for reading *big* .

if you ever get antsy and want to read Union let me know, I'll send it to you.

I hope to have another part out sometime this week, most likely before tuesday (is anyone else boycotting As If and Random Years?). thanks again.
posted on 10-Mar-2002 12:24:35 AM by scifidreamer


double post *big*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 10-Mar-2002 12:27:41 AM ]
posted on 23-Mar-2002 12:01:15 AM by scifidreamer
AN hello people, here's a new part. once again thanks to those who read. and one more thing. when you get to the Max part, it might be kinda confusing, 'cuz he's kinda a confused. but, there's always a but, everything will make sense eventually. just a little warning to be careful how you interpret his musings.

and now onto the story.

Part 6

We all decided to meet at The Crash one week before the prank was to go down, to over the details and finalize the plans. Now I feel I should clarify, this wasn't the prank to end all pranks—no rather it was stress reliever everyone could partake in. See not so much a prank, but a public service. Leave it to us to think of others mental well being.

Thankfully my shift ended an hour before we were to meet. Maria still had an hour to go. Kyle was the first to arrive so we chatted as we waited.

“Hey Kyle, why are you here so early?” I asked as he slid into the bench opposite me.

He made a face, “Dad invited Maria’s mom over for dinner and a game of ‘Parcheesi’,” he said making the quote sign with his fingers. “Whatever the hell that means.”

“Yes, so how is that going?” I inquired with exaggerated interest he really didn’t seem to appreciate.

“Can it Parker. I’m in no mood to discuss my parent’s,” he shivered, “sex life. I know you talk to Maria, you know exactly how this sick, cruel relationship is faring.”

“Aw, c’mon Kyle, it can’t be that bad. I mean, isn’t what’s important here that both of your parents are happy?”

“Well yeah, but with Maria’s mom? It’s like…ewww.”

“What’s the big deal?” I asked genuinely at a lost.

“The big deal? The big freakin’ deal is that they are so damn indiscreet. I mean I come home-no I can’t even talk about it.”

“What? Kyle, you can tell me.”

“No,” he said curtly.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“WHAT? I come home to hear giggling in the living room. I find bras in the kitchen. My dad takes from my jimmy hat stash. It’s sick I tell you. Sick.” He said vehemently.

I tried not to laugh. I got the distinct impression he wouldn’t be pleased. “Imagine, what if your dad and Maria’s mom marry? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

He leaped across the table trying to grab me. Shit, knew I shoulda kept that to myself. “Kyle! No, stop!”

“It’s noogie time Parker! I told you to drop it!”

“Kyle, you’re making a scene. Ah! Kyle! You fuck up my hair, I fuck you up!” I hissed trying to wiggle out of his hold. So not fair, he’s All-Star on the varsity wrestling team. Too late. He ground his knuckles into my scalp. “Oh you bastard!” I jabbed him between the ribs and his breath whooshed right out. I pushed him so he fell back, his head hanging over the bench, and started tickling him.

“No, no, no! Stop! I’m sorry,” he laughed out, squirming. His leg jerked up and knee crashed into the table, creating a loud clatter. “Shit!”

“Ooh, that had to hurt,” I said chuckling as he whimpered.

A shadow fell over us, “Children, children,” we both looked to see a towering Maria, disapprovingly shaking her head. “Do we really need to have this conversation? You hooligans are disturbing the ambiance and upsetting the paying customers. If you wish to continue acting in such an immature manner, we’re going to have to ask you to get your free-loading-disrespecting asses up and leave this establishment,” she managed to get out without smiling or laughing.

Hmm, was this perhaps a serious threat? Given by Maria no less? Damn she can be kinda menacing.

“We’re sorry,” we said at the same time, sitting up.

“But he started it,” I added pointing at Kyle.

“What?!” he exclaimed, shocked, "You fiendish wench; it was you.”

“Hey! What’d I just finish saying?”

We looked contritely at her. Damn guess she was serious. After sparing a glare at both of us, she walked away positive she had made her point clear. Which she had.

I stuck my tongue at Kyle, and was about to move when Maria’s sidesplitting laughter reached us. Kyle and I looked at each other. Ooh she was gonna get it.

Michael, Alex, and Tess came right as Maria’s shift was ending so we began our meeting in earnest.

Alex was taking care of the entertainment, Maria and Tess would “bartend”, Michael and I would take the money at the door, and then he and Kyle would act as bouncers, making sure dumb asses and drunks left before they did anything to stupid.

So it was a flyer party. We had to keep it real quiet seeing as how we had no wish to get caught.

I don’t know about anywhere else, but this is the way it works at West Roswell High; the official last day of school is always a Monday, but it’s a pupil free day, meaning the teachers have to show up but students don’t. So then Friday is seen as the last day by the teachers. Kids, however, only go for two reasons: 1) get any last minute signatures in their yearbooks or 2) meet up with their friends and ditch. The faculty really does do its best to shepherd us into classrooms, but it rarely works; class bells are generally ignored. The only classes a kid’ll go to are the ones where they have friends and a teacher they’re down with. Both are requirements. So you see Thursday is in fact treated like the last day of school by the students. We get out early everyday of finals week, except for Friday.

We decided to have our party on Friday. The flyers we gave to known party animals, knowing such information would spread faster than a California brush fire, said:
Party at McCarthy Aqua Center
Kegs provided, BYOB
$3 entrance fee
that's it. McCarthy Aqua Center is the name of our Olympic size pool. It's called that 'cuz we have three spring diving boards and two platform diving boards, a diving team, girls and boys water polo teams, as well a swim team. For being out in the desert we sure take our water sports pretty damn seriously.

The turnout was fucking amazing. Seeing as how we have this inordinately large "aqua center", we had something like 300 kids in there at any point throughout the night.

We didn't do much in the way of decorating, just a whole grip of tiki torches Tess had "just lying around, waiting for a good party" and white Christmas lights Michael somehow managed to string all long the ceiling and walls (those alien powers, I tell you, till we found out about them we thought Michael and Tess were like aliens or something, okay so that's what they are, but the point is they were totally cool, and ultra spy vs. spy) and a bunch of trash cans.

Michael had told us not to worry he would procure the kegs. At that Kyle had pulled him to the side and made a whispered entreaty. They showed up that night with 6 kegs and 7 Sparklett's water cooler jugs filled with what Kyle called his "special down home punch". It was red and pretty damn good. Got people drunk like no other. There were all kinds of people sportin' red stains on their shoes, pants, but mostly (and obviously) shirts.

Alex is an awesome DJ. I mean yeah I had heard him fucking around in his garage with his band, but I never thought anything of it. He was playing all kinds of old school/flashback favorites. And he busted out with some "Billie Jean" and "Thriller" Michael Jackson, man that was kick ass. He said the eighties was a nirvana for nerds to be cool. He played Beastie Boys, Culture Clash, Dephe Mode, Cure, The Smiths…dude the list goes on. So yeah that was fun.

Whenever people would particularly rowdy or stupid, Michael or Kyle would "escort" them out.

Kyle had managed to swipe one of his dad's police scanners, and by the end of the night, overheard a call being dispatched saying that there had been several complaints of noise disturbance and rowdy/disorderly kids in the vicinity of the high school, and some other snitch calling in saying "I think there is a party going on at the W. Roswell campus".

"Hey the police are coming to check out several complaints," he whispered to me.

"Alright it's time to jet. Let's clear all these mutha fucka's outta here," I replied.

And we did try to get people to leave, but it wasn't going very well. That's when Michael went over to the DJ booth. He took the mic, and in a loud, clear voice said, "Alright everyone get the fuck outta here." And when most still just stood there, he said, "POLICE! The party's moving to Troy's house."

That got people moving and so began a mass exodus of drunk and/or high, disorderly teenagers from the premises of W. Roswell High. It took about 10 minutes, with helpful motivation from Michael, Kyle, and Tess, for everyone to leave, and at that point we were hurrying ourselves.

Alex and his band mates dismantled and loaded everything into his VW rabbit in record time, while Tess, Kyle, Maria, and I picked up and tried to organize things. We had a whole grip of hefty duty trash bags. Tess had us load them up in her SUV and Kyle's sports car (he wasn't too pleased, but was quickly convinced of the rationality of this impromptu plan). Michael told the rest of us to scram he would take care of cleaning up and getting rid of the kegs. Maria and I tried to prevail upon him the enormity of the task, and how our assistance would be needed, but in not so many words he made it clear he could handle it-a lot faster if he didn't have us questioning and hence hindering his methods. Okay that got our interest, but by then we were not so gently "escorted" out the aqua center. We joined Kyle and Tess in the parking lot and ended up helping them dispose of all the trash, before we all met up at Michael's.

By the time Alex and Michael arrived, Tess had picked his lock, so we were in his "den" lounging, drinking what was left of the alcohol, money already counted. It never fully dawned on any of us humans that neither Michael or Tess actually had anything to drink that night. Michael was his usual surly self, which some people are like when they drink, and Tess, likewise, acted like her usual goof self, something no one doubted she would be like drunk.

It was 3 am and we were all mildly pleased with ourselves and the evening's success.

It helped that we made bank that night. Over $1 000.

We were definitely happy - if not slightly intoxicated... on what I'm not sure – campers that night.


Two weeks after the party I-no we... me, Maria, and Tess-got in our first fight. Not with each other, I mean.

Have we already established Roswell is a small town? And so the natural conclusion-the Roswell mall is nothing to gloat about, but it fills the need. So most kids, in an attempt to escape the heat and boredom, head there. I mean when there’s nothing else to do and you have some extra cash why not?

Hey we all need senseless miscellanea to fill up our drawers; to pull out and play with when we’re feeling blasé. So we were there, just chillin’ trying to figure out what else to spend our money on. We’d just stepped out of the Icing. Tess had bought a Wonder Women decal for her skateboard; Maria bought 50 bangles for something like $3.50 (“I’m telling you Liz, it’s a steal".), and I bought a long, thin burgundy rayon scarf with small white flowers on it.

We put it all in Tess’ backpack. Before we put our goodies in there, I think all she had in there was a Star Wars book, a small bottle of Tabasco sauce, and some extra wheels for her board.

Do you know how skaters wear their backpacks?

They have them pulled tightly against their backs, and from what I can tell have hardly anything in them. For reals. I’m pretty sure this is true of all skaters, and not just a Tess thing.

Maybe it’s all Alterna-people, ‘cuz Alex wears his backpack like that too. Hmm, the intricacies of our generation.

So as I was saying, we were walking out the store when she bumped into me. “Hey watch it,” I growled as we walked on.

“What’d you say?”

I stopped and turned around. I’d never seen her before. “I said watch the fuck were you’re walking.”

I really didn’t mean to start anything, but I wasn’t about to back down. See the old Liz would’ve endured it, just made a face and kept on walking. Yeah well I chloroformed her and locked her the bathroom.

“Bitch you want to say that to my face.”

“Check it, I already did. What? You stupid as well as deaf?”

She took a step forward and Maria and Tess sidled closer. “Turn your flat ass around and walk away. You don’t want to do this,” I said shooing her away.

Maria looked her up and down, a sneer gracing her features, “Shit, she ain’t worth it chica.”

Maria decked out in dark blue jeans, a black and red dress-shirt, and hoop earrings, with her pulled back in a sweeping ponytail, looked intimidating in a ghetto-fabulous way. Tess, with ultra lowride, superbell pants, a black cropped ‘You’re just jealous cause I hear voices’ tee, and a skateboard held loosely in one arm was menacing just ‘cuz she got a gleeful look whenever the opportunity for aggression arose.

“Seriously,” I concurred.

Apparently she took offense at that, ‘cuz that’s when she swung, her hand clawed. It was easy enough to dodge.

“Silly ho, tricks are for bitches,” I said, my fist connecting with her jaw.

That’s when her homegirls got in the action. Dumb ho’s, pulling hair and scratching. They should count themselves lucky Tess didn’t want to scuff the new grip tape on her board, so she gently set it down before joining the foray. She kinda just jumped in, shouting, “I don’t know KA-RA-TE, but I know KA-RAZY!”

It was over in a minute. Someone shouted “chick fight!” and so a bunch of slack jawed idiots gathered around chanting, “Fight…fight”. Dumb asses.

Maria noticed the security guards rushing over. “Oh shit! Run! Tess, drop their shoes!”

We hauled ass, pushing our way through the throng of people, and ran through the first exit we saw and around the corner. We stopped, trying to catch our breaths.

“Dude… their shoes?” I asked Tess, wheezing.

“Yeah… so they couldn’t… follow us,” she huffed out. She still had two pairs of sneakers tied together and thrown over her shoulders.

“How… did you-,” Maria cleared her throat, “how did you manage that?”

“You know…when they weren’t paying attention I slipped them off, and just kinda quickly knotted the laces together.”

Well it sounded plausible.

“Damn, one of those ho's was wearing a ring,” Maria said, rubbing her jaw.

“Let me see.” I walked over to her and inspected her battle wound. “Not too serious. You’re gonna have a bruise, but it shouldn’t be that bad. Looks like she barely tapped you.”

She patted her hair, “Is my hair all messed up? It took me fuckin’ forever to get smooth and bump free.”

“You’ve got a few baby hairs flying around, but it’s cool.”


We then took inventory of damage sustained. Maria had one bruise on her jaw and bite marks on her left arm.

“Damn, those ho’s were animals,” Tess commented. She had a sore scalp-she thought she might have a bald spot and was ready to kick some more skank ass (her words), and scratches down one arm.

I had nail gauges on my neck and hands, as well as a small scratch on my cheek. All in all not bad, seeing as how we left those girls lying on the floor. Throughout the next two days, however, we would discover other bruises and sore spots on our bodies. Could’ve been worse.

We walked and re-entered the mall a few entrances down. We really didn’t want to have to walk all the way around the mall, in the heat no less- to get to Maria’s car. So as unobtrusive and casually as possible, we walked through the mall to where Maria was parked.

“Dude, I can’t believe we did that. It really happened,” Tess, said leaning against the car, sounding awed.

I was a little amazed too. It was thrilling, not just the physical part, yeah it was a shock (I would be lying to deny it all together) but that I didn’t allow myself to get pushed around. That I didn’t not think better of the situation.

I mean it was kind of intimidating, talking back, but it just felt so damn great. And dude, knowing Maria and Tess were there, backing me up, it meant so much.

“Thanks guys,” I said as non-gushy as possible.

Maria just looked over from where she was driving and said, “Don’t even,” she looked back at the road, “Always, you guys, always. No matter what. No matter when.”

It was such a poignant moment, all Hallmark-y. Well at least what Hallmark might say for your first group fight- if they couldn’t articulate what they wanted to say…okay so maybe not what Hallmark would say. But the tone of her voice conveyed a lot more than any paltry words could.

She looked over at Tess in the back seat, “I love you guys,” she said all dorky, adding just the levity needed.

I know this moment was a milestone for Tess. She laughed out with the rest of us, but her eyes were all glossy, and she sported a watery smile.

“Man I could go for some ice cream,” I said.

And thus a tradition was born.


Night Roughly Same Time; 'Nother City

There was something cleansing about hot water. The hotter the water, the better to expunge his iniquity. The more the water scalded his skin, the more it purified his soul...

He stood still under that torrent of furious water and felt his errors, his trespasses, burn away. Dirt and grime rolled down his body in gray beads. Small rivulets of red made their sporadic journey down. Another's blood worn on his body. A badge of disgrace.

Would she be repulsed by such emblems? Would she understand he would do-wear worse- for her?

That her pain threatened to overtake him. Physical…emotional….pain.

Her pain, his sister's pain, the others' pain, all converging over him. Warranting all his attention. Demanding every fiber of his control not to snap from it.

Their hurt, anger, frustration.

The hot water would burn his scrapes, lighting them on fire as was his penance, all the while washing away the revulsion he felt for himself.

Would she be such a balm to the scrapes and turmoil of his soul?


"He was such a good boy Philip. Such a happy, care free child. What's happening to our son?" his mom asked near tears, for once at a loss on how to handle her loving son.

Isabel sat at the dinner table with her parents. Max was never the saint her mom liked to pretend he was, more of a mischievous angel dad would say. But this misery and anger she felt come off him in waves was something new all together. Dad could argue boys would be boys only to a certain extent. "Mom?" Isabel interrupted hesitantly.

"Yes dear? What it is it?" She now had both her parents attention. She could do this. For Max, she could do this. She had to help her brother.

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 23-Mar-2002 12:09:57 AM ]
posted on 1-Apr-2002 1:19:21 AM by scifidreamer
dear everybody,

um I don't really have anything to say *big*

oh wait, yes I do: THANK YOU ALLl for the amazing fb! thank you so much.

StrawBerhyApplesauce I'm feeling you with the crowbar. some of the stuff I write comes, from actual experience. but that's what colors life. Tess is total punk (well at least behavior-wise) and it only gets more fun this summer.

discalimer: Grrl Scouts is an actual comic by Jim Mahfood, he's also done work for Kevin Smith's Clerks comic series, and Marvel'sUltimate Team Up I think it's issue number 9. anyways it's fuckin ha-larious. Tess totally considers these girls to be role models.

all righty then on to the show.

Part 7

"Dude, so check this Liz, I was at Galaxy's Comic World, just browsing through the TPB (trade paper back a.k.a. graphic novels, for you non-comic geeks) section, looking at the new Tales of the Jedi complied volume they had, when I found this totally kick as book called Grrl Scouts. Man it was so cool, and it gave me this really great idea," Tess said, her eyes lighting up.

"Okay," I warily replied, "what is it?"

"See, okay look I bought it," she reached behind her and pulled it out of her back pack. "Just read it, and then tell me what you think. I think it'd be perfect for you, me and Maria. Dude we could so do it." She was practically jumping up and down. "Oh and they fuckin' board too, called those 'blading freaks like they are," she exclaimed excitedly. I knew that alone could easily be why Tess loved this comic. She was the only female skater in our entire school. Sure there were other skater chicks, but none of them they were actually good, let alone owned a skateboard.

I sighed and then settled down to read. And as I was reading it I was busting up. I know I should have been more careful seeing as how she wanted to implement the basic premise Roswell style. But I couldn't help it. That book was bust-a-cap hilarious. They way the fuckin' talked was golden man.

When I was done reading it I told her we couldn't actually do that.

"Why not Liz? Wait, which part?"

"Okay look, I'm not above the occasional misdemeanor or anything, but selling drugs? Tess that's like so illegal. Is that what you were talking about?"

She gave me an exasperated look, "I know, we don't have to do that part. I mean I didn't think we could honestly do it anyways, but everything else? They're just so damn entertaining, and it would be more to add to our miscreant resumes."

"Wait, so you wanna do they alcohol-consuming-pot-smoking-'shroom-ingesting-underground-clubbing-graffiti-art part?" I asked incredulously.

"Um," she closed her eyes in concentration. "No, no… no, yes… yes." She opened her eyes," Does that answer it all?"

I counted out the parts of the question on my hand, muttering under my breath. "Yes. So you want to go to underground hip hop clubs, and become graffiti artists?"

"Wells yeah, Liz! I mean why not? It would be so fuckin' dope. I mean honest to Buddha, we're not that far off any ways. Just think of it as the natural progression or our personal expression."

"Tess, do you really think I'll buy that?"

"Hey man, whatever soothes your conscious. I'm gonna go tell Maria, we should start phase two of this trepidatious, journey of Self-Discovery we have embarked on as soon as possible. Don't worry about the paints, I'll get them, and stash them at my house," she said walking away.

As it turned out, phase two was put on a hiatus, while we worked through a shocking revelation within our ranks. Another catalyst setting our fate in motion.


I was the first person Michael told about his special non-human status. But I think it was purely circumstantial.

We were out at the park just fucking around like kids do, not really giving a rat's ass about anything. It was Thursday, two days after Tess' great epiphany, as she taken to calling it.

I guess Maria was really riling Michael up, they were running all over they play ground. She would try to hide behind me or Alex but we would always move outta the way. She would shout that she wasn't feeling any love from us, and whose side were we on anyways? Dodging Michael all the while. She hollered that this was a battle for the rights of people everywhere to be able make known their distaste for scruffy looking, spiky haired, nerf herders (an insult Tess would've been proud of I'm sure). At one point Alex held caught her and attempted to hold her for Michael. That didn't last very long. She asked him why he had to hate, while elbowing him the gut. He left Michael on his own after that.

I don't quite recall everything that happened after that, cuz they next thing I know the lamppost I was standing underneath explodes.

Maria had just walked off with Alex to go buy ice cream from a vendor, still tossing insults at Michael in a round about way. I don’t even think they heard the shatter of glass, probably cuz she was still taunting. I don't remember but I think it could've been his hair, that seemed to be a favorite of hers.

Well anyways the glass rains down around me, and I’m pretty much left unharmed.

Pretty much.

One shard left a nice three inch cut in my arm. It wasn't anything too serious, not too deep, and due to shock, endorphins, and other pain surpressing hormones the human body produces, I didn't really feel anything.

But Michael saw it. And Michael felt reallly reallly guilty.

So Michael reacted on impulse and fixed me up.

Pretty nifty huh?

Well then he kinda had to tell me something. I remember I just kinda looked at him not believing what I just seen. One moment I've got this pretty serious gash in my arm, blood running down it, and the next moment, no wound. No scar , no line, no nothing. The only evidence it had actually happened was the blood slowly coagulating on my arm.

"How?" I rather dumbly asked, holding my arm to my chest.

He just looked at me, and he was so scared. I mean I could see the fear, the dread, the alarm warring in his gray eyes. And then I saw panic.

"Michael!" I shouted to get his attention. He appeared ready to bolt any minute, like if he started running he would just keep on going, not stopping till his legs gave out and his lungs burned so fiercely he couldn't go on. "Michael! It's okay. It's okay," I tried to make my vice as calm as possible. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just… thank you." I don't why but I was nodding my head the entire time.

That seemed to penetrate his panicked fog, "You… you don't…?" and then he just blurted it out. "I'm an alien."

And it kinda just hung there in the air. He fidgeted, and I realized he was probably waiting for some for some kind of reaction, and judging by his posture, and his grim face, he was expecting the worse.

"Oh. Okay then." Long pause. "Does any one else know?"

That's when Maria and Alex made their way back. They weren't gone for too long, but so much had happened it felt surreal seeing them walking back, the sun beginning it's descent behind them, outlining them in black. I looked from them back to Michael, and the whole scene was saved like a mental picture, so clearly capturing human emotion. Something Michael still had a long way accepting as a part of him. Of recognizing as not making him weak.

Let's make this clear, Maria didn't like Michael at first. And he wasn't to fond of her either.

They had always been at each other's throats, ever since grade school. Calling each other names, trying to get each other in trouble.

I think they had had their own weird sorta friendship going on. Well at least until Michael, closed himself off completely. It's like by the high school came around Michael was your quintessential loner bad boy. There were some pretty funny, albeit horrific stories about him circulated on the school campus.

He had no one for so long. None of us were able to recognize or truly appreciate, just how much it took for Michael to join us that year. We couldn't know how lonely it was for him.

And I think the thing he liked most about Maria at the time, was that she wasn't treating him differently. Didn't pity him, or any shit like that. She was always real (for the most part) with him. There were certain things he could always count on Maria for: yelling at him for being an ass, making fun of him… exploding when he pushed just her right buttons, pulling out aromatherapy vials when she was freaking out… freaking out easily.

He was looking at her apprehensively as they came closer.

"We don't have to tell anyone," I said not really looking at them.

He gave me a relieved … I guess a smile is what it was. But he had to tell her.

And when she found out about him she didn't flip and get all screechy or anything, she just looked at him and said, "I'm on to you. I always knew you cheated!" Like she had somehow been vindicated.

Of course later you catch them making out and you feel vindicated; you always knew there was more to their wars and grudges than they led on to. But nooooo everytime you would mention it they would all huffity, and act like that they had been insulted. Punks.

Anyways, Alex was pretty much the same, except without the hostility, or the secret making out later on. Michael was our friend, no matter how much it begrudged him to admit it.

I don't know. I guess we didn't react "normally", but we didn't think he was gonna bite our heads off or anything. Even Maria didn't think that, and she can be very vocal and detailed with her concerns. Hell she watches X-Files religiously, but that didn't cross her mind.

I mean it could've been because at that moment when he told them, he was so vulnerable. He looked so afraid and anxious, that whatever he might be, he was plagued by whatever human fears we all have.

He wasn't a threat and that was that.

I suppose by some intuitive guy thing, Alex knew that this was pretty immense for Michael and he wouldn't be able to handle any of the many questions Maria and I were just waiting to ask him, so he lead him away, asking some lame, diversionary question about Michael being able to hook him up with tomorrows sports scores, or something like that. Michael just chuckled, and said something funny only to guys, back. And they walked on.

Maria and I decided to wait for Michael to tell Tess and Kyle anything. It was only right I mean. It was his secret to tell.

So we left too, we were too meet Tess at the Crash soon anyways. We walked away, talking about all the mundane aspects of life, not quite ready to deal with Michael's confession just yet.

Tess was always a welcome distraction.


So it's not like Tess was completely obvious about her obsession with Kyle. She did try to act indifferent whenever he was around, not overtly paying attention to him; and she always feigned disinterest when his name was brought up. She had flirted with over guys, though never purposefully in front of Kyle. But still— you could literally see her ears perk if his name was mentioned, and she always managed to sit next to him, or innocently touch him- brush by him. For being a "tom boy" she sure was sly.

Subtle enough for the idiotic male populace not to pick up on, but enough for Maria and I to notice. I have to give her props, she was never blatant, or obtrusive, she never threw herself at him. And I honestly think she found his lame ass jokes funny.

I think she found lame ass jokes funny period though.

"So you know what I heard?" Maria asked sliding into the booth next to me and across from Tess.

"What?" I snatched a few fries off Tess' plate, and dunked them in ranch.

"I heard Kyle has once an for all ended things with super Bimbo Vicky Delaney."

"Really?" I leaned forward on my elbows. Maria and I were carefully studying Tess, who thankfully, was blissfully unaware, with a dreamy smile on her face and a far away look in her eyes.

"Mm-hmm. Said he was tired of hearing about next weeks outfit schedule and which Backstreet Boy was cuter, when obviously it's all about N'SYNC . That she never laughed or appreciated any of his weak ass jokes," she said with added emphasis. "Well he didn't say some of that, but," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Said he wanted a women of substance. Someone who appreciated Jackie Chan movies for their artistic merit, and the sublime morals they conveyed."

We watched her eyes light up. When would Kyle realize everything he wanted was sitting next to him patiently rolling her board under her feet.

Would Tess ever get up the nerve to make a move?

Lucky for those two blind bunnies they had such caring and considerate people like me and Maria in their lives.

And you better believe we take all credit for playing matchmakers.

But this was a delicate operation, and we had all summer.


Night 'Nother City

Con't from previous chapter.

Max pulled Isabel into the nearest room.

"I can't believe you almost told them. Isabel, we can't tell anyone," he said with sincerity.

"Max, what harm can it do? Maybe-maybe they'll be able to help you-"

"Help me? help me with what?"

"Max you're not okay. I'm not going to try and say, you ever were Mr. Social butterfly himself, but you used to laugh, you used to smile," she sat down at her desk, pressing her hand to her forehead. "Something's wrong, and you're not talking to me. And I mean I'm not worried about you or anything, I know you can handle yourself. But I just don't know what to do, and I thought, that maybe mom and dad could help."

"Isabel, we can handle this. It's just been a little weird." He sighed, "God, okay, just listen to me 'kay?

"I see her everywhere… everytime I close my eyes, she's just, she's there. And all her pain, and her fear —Isabel, her fear—it swallows me whole. Oh man, and it's not just hers, it's yours. A very, very deep sorrow, and you're so scared, but you're not. Right now you're not. And their pain and frustration, and I don't even know who they are. I just know I gotta fix it or I gotta stop it… I gotta do something. But I don't know. I just know I gotta get outta here, outta of Clovis." He looked up at her, scared, "I think— I think we gotta go back to Roswell."

She carefully kept her face calm and her voice steady, "Max, if that's what will help, then we'll do it. It's not such a big deal."

"I just thought…we had left that all behind. That we were-could be normal, " he muttered to no one. He looked her straight in the eyes, "We'd have to leave Clovis for a while. I don't know how long. Could you do that? Leave all this behind," he made a broad sweeping gesture indicating her room, filled with memories-pictures, snapshots, and trinkets. "Leave your friends? Leave whatever life you've got going for you here?"

She looked at him long and hard. Finally she said, "Max, I don't know what I'm capable of until I'm tested. Let's not, um, we'll cross whatever bridges there are when we come to them 'kay?"

"No, Isabel. I have to be ready. I don't know what's happening to me, if it's a different ability manifesting itself or what, but it's up to me to make it right."

"God Max! You're gonna make me call you names aren't you. You can't keep shouldering any and every responsibility Max. It's not just your burden. You can't just make these decisions for other people . This is gonna kill you Max. It is killing you Max. The fate of the world, this one or any other, doesn't belong to you. You can't control it. It's not your responsibility, you're not obligated. Now who is this girl?" she said with all finality.

He gave her a wry smile, "Call me names?"

"Yes, like fuckin' bullheaded idiot. I'm still your older sister, and I don't care what planet you originally hail from, on this one you respect and listen to your elders, "she pointed at herself with her thumb, "which I happen to be boy. So c'mon, more about this girl."

"God I hate that you're older than me. Alright, alright, I'll tell you what little I can remember of" her"," he said making little quotes with his fingers, when she picked up curling iron and threatened to shove it where the sun don't shine. "The honest to god truth is I don't know much." And as he taked he felt more like himself then he had in along time. Maybe it would all be okay. Maybe this suffering, wouldn't go on forever, maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it would all work out. He continued trying to explain the situation to her.

He clenched his fist tight involuntarily, and with conscious effort let it open.


posted on 6-Apr-2002 5:52:21 AM by scifidreamer
greeting my fellow Roswell fanfic addicts, once again thank you everyone for your feedback. it is greatly appreciated.

Part 8

Max has beautiful thick ebony hair and these beautiful amber/gold eyes you just drown in. I mean as corny as it sounds Max's eyes are absolutely captivating, there's just so much hidden in their depths that you can forget yourself. It's scary and exciting all that same time. He is a genuinely beautiful person. He's not perfect, god only knows the boy has flaws, like being possessive and shouldering all the responsibility himself…and his Tabasco fetish, don't even get me started. But there's a flip mode to all that. He doesn't front. He's real about everything, and I respect that. He's there whenever you need him and his hugs really are the best. Plus the boy knows how to handle a can of spray paint like no other.

Michael is tall, has fathomless gray eyes, spiky hair, and an attitude like the best diva. He's cynical, caustic, and a smart ass. Very much like a male Maria, but if you mention that you’d better have a really good hiding spot already picked out. He's like the brother I never had. If his life had a soundtrack it'd be anything of Metallica’s I suppose. He wishes he could ignore you but really is too good of a guy to, which pisses him off to no end. He wants you to believe he hates this, and any other world, and that there aren’t any ties to hold him down. He gets really pissy if you overly comment on his art, and can easily give Max a run for his money in the artist area. I don't if we would be friends if he hadn't shared his secret with us, but I'm über glad he decided to.

Alex: lanky, computer nerd, band geek, and all around best friend ever. He's tall, has crystal clear blue eyes, brown hair he really doesn't know what to do with, and a smile that he really does abuse. You’d think that after 9 years of being exposed to it, its potency would wear down, but it doesn’t. That guy can hack it any computer system no matter how well secured, and boy has he used; he has gotten us “free” tickets from Ticketmaster on several occasions and once even tickets to go see Cirque du Soliel in Vegas. He’s a master break-dancer. It’s fuckin amazing to see him out there; and may I say that boy can contort himself into some funky ass positions. The amazing thing about Alex is that he’ll help without question.

Kyle is the amazing Buddhist jock. He has incredibly dark, deep cobalt eyes, dark brown hair, an athlete’s body, and his dad’s way of seeming to tower over you. For being the Sheriff's son he sure gets into alotta shit. I guess it's kinda like the preacher's daughter being the town whore (of course that doesn't apply to my preacher's daughter. Damn goody two shoes). Kyle is fun. I can see why he and Tess go so well together. For all his calm-my-soul-listen-for-to-the-butterfly’s-wings-release-the-monkey talk, he sure knows how to throw a party. We went out for one brief summer and he’s always had a viewpoint and a quick remark managing to relieve tension like no other, really helping all of us get through all kinds of weird, crazy shit. He’s loyal like no other, and though he loves “Earth Women are Easy” he’s still a pretty decent guy, and an amazing car theft teacher.

The next day Maria and I talked about Michael’s revelation. I mean it was a big thing. We wondered where he might come from, if he was a part of the Roswell ’47 crash (we didn’t think so at first. C’mon he was a 17 year-old kid, how could he possibly be from 1947?) We didn’t doubt he was being straight with us. He was too human, his anxiety over telling us, the vulnerability so easy to see on his face, in his eyes. It was a wholly different thing to see so blatantly expressed by him.

We also wondered what other powers he might have, besides healing wounded teenagers. Maria said she wouldn’t doubt it if he had no control over his powers, and that he was probably such a sour puss on his planet, or wherever, that they had sent him away. I just looked at her over my raised glass of oj.

“What?” she had said, “it’s probably true. I wouldn’t doubt it.”

I just continued to look at her. A hazy thought slowly forming was comimg into view.

“You’re not going to make me feel guilty,” she said defensively. That wasn’t my intention.

I don’t know how to explain, just why Maria’s comment made me pause. It’s was like this sudden insight into Michael. If we had questions, what were his questions like?

What did he think? What answers did he come up with? What did he tell himself?

Did he wonder if there were others? Where they might be? What might have happened to them? Did he feel abandoned? Unwanted? Did he think he was rejected?

We had talked over the last month, had started a relationship that was quickly turning sibling-like in nature, and now so many small things seemed to click. It’s not like we opened up and poured out our souls to each other, but they were real conversations nonetheless. He talked in a way that made everything out to be like it was no big deal. Like there was no importance to any of the things that had happened to him.

We all knew he was an orphan, hell everyone knew it.

He’d mentioned that he was all alone, that he did need anybody anyways. I mean we all sensed that a lot of what he said was contradictory. But then we never saw him look longingly at any families, and it’s not like any of the smart ass remarks, were thinly veiled or transparent. Does any of that make sense? A part of him really believed everything he said. It's not that a part of him shut down, but that a part of him never had the chance to grow.

One day when we were talking but not really talking, I started telling him about my grandma Claudia. I told him story after story about her, how much she influenced my life. How she inspired me.

And then I told him about when she died. I didn’t go into too much detail ‘cuz I didn’t want to cry and usually just thinking about it made me choke up. He just listened, the whole time, listening. He would make small comments on some parts. A few genuine smiles here and there. And then at the end, he said it was great that I had this history, that I knew my legacy. He didn’t look forlorn as he said it, and he didn’t sound wistful, but there was an under current there.

Michael doesn’t like pity. He never has. He’s schooled himself to control his wistfulness, if that makes sense. He doesn’t want for you to look at him and feel pity. He doesn’t want people to hear something in his voice, or read it in his face. And he does a really great job of it. He’s rude, he’s off-putting, he’ll act offensive, but sometimes if you know him well enough as we were getting to, you can see past all that. And sometimes it’s harder to see through when he isn’t rough, because he’ll make it seem so irrelevant in regards to him.

He told me how he came to live in his own apartment.

Here’s the Cliff’s Notes version: Turns out his foster father, Hank, just didn’t come home one week. That week turned into two, and the next thing he knows, his old social worker is telling him they’ve found some where else for him to stay. He told her he would prefer not to; the lady told him he had no other choice, he said he could become an emancipated minor. She told him he didn’t have the money, know how, or the citizenship record to make such a claim.

It turns out this husband and wife lawyer team heard the whole thing. Told him they would help. At first he declined all "No, I don’t need your pity or your help." And then they said “We’re not doing it outta pity, why don’t you not look a gift horse in the mouth.” That caused him to shut up. Michael may not like it when people try to tell him what to do, but he respects adults who don’t get up in his face while telling him to cut the crap, you with me?

So they look over his file, and see something in there that assures them of his independence (he didn’t tell me what at the time). Two days later they meet again, they tell him this is pro-bono, he tells them he’s there if they ever need him or his assistance or whatever. Court’s scheduled for a week later, whence Michael is declared an emancipated minor, yea for him. As they were leaving they told Michael they helped him cuz they hoped someone would had help their children had they ever been in his place. The guy chuckled when he told Michael karma had a weird way of working and had a bad habit of biting you in the ass at the worst time. Told Michael just like that, and Michael still chuckles like the first time, when he tells that story.

When he told me, he’d just been "voluntarily terminated", as he put it, from his job at the super market. I told him I knew some people, and with the right incentive I might be persuaded to line him up with a job. All the DL of course, if asked, he’d never heard of me. He grinned at that.

I’ve always thought it apt, that after all the grief he gave Maria, he ended up being a cook at the Crash.


She sat up in bed, clutching her right bicep close to her body, with her other hand. “Shit. It hurts.” She tried not to sound whiney. She looked down at her arm; there was an angry red line where she’s been cut. Hmm, what does it feel like? She wondered if she could describe the pain she felt. Let’s see, it feels like something is slicing my arm down the middle. Pushing down hard to make sure everything is sliced through; the bone carved. And then take two hooks, and pull hard apart, flaying open the wound. She grimaced, yep that pretty much articulated it.

She gingerly moved to pick up her phone, then dialed Michael’s number. Pick up pick up pick up.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answered.

“Hey Michael… listen, get your sorry alien ass over here.” Her voice was neutral.

“What? Why?” he asked defensively.

“Please, Michael. It really hurts.”

“What? What hurts Liz?” he voice suddenly alert and concerned.

“My arm. Where you healed it the other day. I guess I must’ve slept wrong on it or something, and I woke up in pain.”

“Alright I’m on my way.”

“Thanks Michael.”

“Yeah, whatever.”



“This isn’t your fault.”

He was quiet for a while. “Yeah, I know.” He paused. “Thanks Liz.”

“Thank you, Michael. Now hurry it up, it hurts like a bitch. Bye.”


"Make way make way, the fun has arrived." Tess announced as she burst through Liz’s door. She stood in the middle of the room; her arms spread wide a huge grin on her face.

Liz jumped in her bed, “Tess! Crap, you scared me. What the hell are you doing here-“ she glanced at her alarm clock. It read 10:08 am, “So damn early?”

"Hello Liz, remember? We were supposed to go the Y today? Amateur rock climbing class today? Oh come on don’t bail! We didn’t get to delve into the world of underground hip-hop and go to the Space Hog on Friday, and then yesterday we didn’t explore the fascinating world of graffiti art. We haven’t done anything remotely not-completely-legal or death defyingly adventuresome in such a long time.” She fell down on Liz’s bed with a sad plop.

“Okay, hold up. First of all we went to the free “Cheech and Chong” film festival with you on Friday, your idea-“

“Yeah but we only saw three of the films-“

“- And yesterday you spent the afternoon skating and had that tricks battle with those guys in front of the bank. If I remember correctly you hoodlums were chased off their property four times, and the last time Deputy Owen had to escort us off, threatening to us tickets and with charges vadalism.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” she said with a pout. "Man, you’re on crack. Listen Michael’s on the way, something about summer school, I don’t know. Why don’t you go downstairs… have breakfast and we’ll meet up with you there-” Tess’ face lit up, “then we’ll discuss today’s itinerary?”

She stuck out her tongue at Liz, “Fine, but only ‘cuz Jose’s Scrambled alien breakfast burrito with extra jalapenos is heavenly.” She pretended to swoon.

“You nut,” Liz replied, getting out of bed. She glanced down at her arm, and tried not to be alarmed that blood seemed to be oozing out of nowhere.


Michael walked in a little after Tess left. "Michael, so glad you came. Lookit," I showed my arm to him.

"What the fuck's going on?" he asked quietly, more to himself than me.

"I was kinda hoping you'd tell me." I tried to smile but it was happening.

"Did the cut re-open?" he peered closer at it.


"Does it still hurt?"

"Not really. It's been diminishing since I woke up."

"So, it's just bleeding…. From nowhere?' he scratched his eyebrow.

"Pretty much." I nodded my head. Yep. Blood… just oozing out.

"Well that's never happened before."

"Do this a lot do you?"

He just gave me this dry look, "No." he looked far away, "I've only healed myself and even then it was only mild bruises and cuts."

"Got in lots of fights did you?" I looked at him. I knew there was something he wasn't saying. Michael wasn't the most sociable person at school, but most kids were too scared of him to actually take him on. I let it go for the time being, no use asking, it would just push him away, and I really wanted my arm better.

He looked at me sharply, "Yeah… fights. Anyways let's see what we can do." He changed the subject.

At that moment the pain flared and I whimpered helplessly. The hooks were back, trying to see how far they could be pulled and still hold on to my flesh.

"Liz!!" he put his hands on my shoulders, keeping me from sinking to the floor.

"Help me Michael. Please." I gripped my arm tight, blood oozing out between my fingers.

He pushed my hand outta the way and replaced it with his.

And suddenly it felt warm there. Like a nice summer day in Texas, humid but with a rare cool breeze. That's what it reminds me of now. I wasn't looking at anything while he fixed me, I saw my room but it didn't make any sense. Didn't register as anything.

Finally he let an explosive breath , pulling his hand away from me like I seared him, and just stared at me with this weird look. At length he looked down to my arm and shrugged, "Guess that's the best it's going to get. It shouldn't hurt any more.'

I looked down at my arm too. There was still an angry red line there, where the cut had been, but that wasn't what you noticed. What you saw first, and probably only, was a silver hand print wrapped a round my arm. I looked back up at him, my mouth just kinda hangin' open.

"Yeah, you're gonna have to cover that up." He turned around like he was leaving.

"Wait! Michael?" I reached out to grab him but he pulled away faster, his hands held back like I would burn him if I touched him.

"Don't touch me!" he sounded scared.

"What? Michael what happened? Everything! Tell me what just happened?" My hands were in fists at my sides.

His eyes searched my room looking for something... words, advice... I don't know, before he said, "When I figure it out I will. Just make sure you cover your arm." And then he walked out.

Man fuck that. I threw a pillow at the wall; the weak thump fell woefully short of the thud I was hoping for. He would answer all my questions before the day was over. But right now my tummy growling.


God, she want to tell so badly. They would still like her, right? They wouldn’t think she's some sorta alien freak, right? They wouldn’t hate her? They would still trust her, right? They wouldn’t, she paused at the awful, horrible, really bad thought, they wouldn’t fear her, right? They wouldn’t think she was some flesh-eating-blood-drinking-insect-thing would they? How could they not? How could they ever accept her? But to do so, would be to believe in the unbelievable, they would have to re-evaluate everything they’ve ever known, everything they’ve ever been taught. It goes against all they believe. No, no one can ever know. She sighed. Man fuck this. Fuck everything, someday it would be too late. The Jedi owed her for this, she thought with a frown.


When I finally met Tess downstairs, Maria had shown up as well. Neither of us worked that day. Sometimes… every once in a blue moon… my dad would give both of us the same weekend day off, so we could chill together. I found some pleasure in the fact that Michael had to work. Hah! Punk.

We could tell Tess had something on her mind at this point, but neither of even suspected what it really was. Meanwhile we had decided that it was time tease her about this crush on Kyle. Hell Michael and Alex even had a pool going on to see how long it would take for things to come out between them. Naturally Maria and I got in on the action. This pool notion was sadly to become a tradition amongst us. We became addicted to guessing the fate of our comrades. Really quite hilarious, with odd wagers, and usually even odder outcomes. We’ve still yet to learn our lesson.

“So Tess, is there something you want to tell us?” I asked as Maria and I sat down on both sides of her at the counter.

“What?” she replied, her food forgotten.

“We know. We’ve known for along time-“

She cut Maria off, “WHAT!? How? What! Why? Huh?!” she asked panicking.

“Whoa, Tess. Calm down girl. Hey even Michael’s commented on it.”

“Michael knows? I had wondered….?” She said her voice slightly shaky.

We gave each other a questioning look. What?

“Well it was kinda obvious,” I said gently.

“Really?” she looked at me with these huge eyes.

“Yeah, it’s okay we still like you,” Maria said smiling.

“You guys aren’t… you’re not… I mean you’re not mad or, or anything?”

“Why would we be mad?” Maria asked confused, she began to pick off Tess’ plate.

“Yeah, you are allowed your own feelings and thoughts and privacy you know,” I added smiling.

“Really?” she looked awestruck.

“Yes.” Maria chuckled.

“Oh god, I wanted to tell you guys for so long, you have no idea. I didn’t know how you’d take it though. If you’d freak out or what or not want to be my friends, or…” she rushed out. She looked sooo relieved, like this massive weight had just been lifted off her shoulders.

You’d think we would have suspected something then. But nope, that thought didn’t even register.

“How you’d guys find out?” she gasped. “Does Kyle know?”

We smiled knowing smiles.

“This is so great! I can’t believe you guys have known all this time. Oh my god. Whew.” She had on the biggest smile.

"No, we haven't said anything. We were trying to figure out who to work on first, and figured we have more fun with you," I said as I flipped Michael off. Maria saw and quickly flipped him off too. He looked shocked. She looked at me and smiled. That's the great thing about Maria.

"Huh?" she looked lost.

"Tess, babe, we know you have the hots for our boy Kyle and we're going to help you help him see that everything he wants has been in right in front of-"

"Wait that's what you guys were talking about?" she looked like she was about to be sick.

"Tess what's wrong?" I asked concerned, this was definitely not the reaction we had expected. We had envisioned nights filled with stupid funny '80's movies, junk food up the wazoo, and lots of reckless scheming. No where in any of those plans had a devastated Tess been called for.

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, and caught us completely off guard when in completely Tess fashion she told us she was an alien.

Right there, on a Saturday morning in the middle of a busy cafe.

In the space of three days we found out two of our friends were aliens- from another planet aliens, not like another country. How the hell were we supposed to guess? It was around this time Maria coined the phrase Czechoslovakians.

Maria and shared one of those looks, and then dragged Tess up to my room so she could spill. A lot of what's and nuh-uh's were exchanged, as well a demonstration on my pillows. Then on some of my clothes, Maria's idea.

A while later we thought Michael might like to know. She wasn't really shocked Michael was an alien as well. She was never positive, and didn't want to risk anything by confronting him. She said he gave off a certain vibe. We asked how she could tell, and matter-of-factly she replied she had had a lot of time on her hands growing up.

We waited until we were at Michael's to tell him. That evening was interesting to say the least. Very… spontaneous and demonstrative and filled with impulsive moments of unadulterated joy.

It was an evening better remembered, not with visual images, but with feelings and sensations. I can recall different specific moments where I was feeling different whirlwinds of sensations and emotions rushing through me with perfect clarity, but it's harder to recall a clear concise image.

Everyone was there, even Kyle. We learned a lot that night, grew a lot that night.

Yeah, turns out we knew nothing.


Same time 'Nother city

He stood at the sink washing dishes.

"Max, tell mom and dad I went out!"

"Isabel!" he caught her about to exit the front door. "You going out with Danny again?"

She gave him an irritated look, and tried to unclench her jaw, "Danny and a few of his friends, is that okay with you? Do I have your permission?" she asked, her tone acerbic.

"He's trouble Isabel. His brother's fucked in the head."

"Just because his brother is a dumb fuck doesn't mean he is. Look at us you’re an ass, doesn't mean that I am," she yanked the door open.

He shook his head, she was still mad at him, god girls could hold a grudge. "Be careful." Her eyes softened, kinda.

"Of course," she said in that special tone of voice she perfected, part arrogance, part contempt, and just walked out.

He still hadn't been able to shake the feeling of dread haunting him. He was so used to it, in fact, that it felt like it had always been apart of him. Wrapping itself around his body, slithering up in a serpentine manner.

Isabel wasn't quite over it that their parents had started clamping down on curfews and other stuff cuz of him, nor had she yet to forgive him for a few other minor transgressions, including one minor laundry accident leaving all her whites, pinks. At least she did her own laundry and all her chores for herself now.

He smiled, but it quickly disappeared as the apprehension stole over him once more. He wasn't going to trap himself in the basement again. He closed his eyes and could clearly see her eyes. He suddenly felt inspired. Maybe he'd go out tonight too. Have a little fun down at the train tracks. There was one piece he wasn't quite satisfied with, and more than a few that weren't his, he was sick of looking at.

posted on 6-Apr-2002 11:37:38 PM by scifidreamer
mara is a dreamer glad you noticed the SW references, and I liked yours *big* . by the way I got Union I just gotta go to the post office now. I'll update you after that *happy* . sorry I haven't emailed you, my email's been kinda down lately.

Tea B7 yes it Liz. personally those references are fun to write cuz max is so lost and confused and then he sees her eyes, and he's even more upset, but he finds comfort seeing them. make any sense?

Rapunzel the thing w/ liz's arm happened for a reason, they just didn't know much about the extent and limits of their powers at that point. but it'll be explained later. hope that's help.
posted on 21-Apr-2002 7:35:42 AM by scifidreamer
thank you for all the wonderful fb. I'm so glad you guys enjoy the story, it really means alot, thanks.

um, I kinda took a second spring break *big* last week, so I had to spend this week, getting all my shit back together... But I did write, now I just gotta type it up (blah). so anyways, I hope to have it by tuesday.

thank you once again, I hope you all have plenty of semi-illegal fun this week.
posted on 2-May-2002 8:06:21 AM by scifidreamer
hello people,

well it's really late...or early depending on how you look at it, and I'm dead tired, but at last I've finished...

shit shit shit shit

deep breath

sorry people, the disk I have the story on is giving me problems, so I won't be able to update rite now. but that's okay, cuz I'm going down my mom's house later today, so I'll just have her help me, fix everything. sigh.


don't forget Spider Man comes out friday!!!!
posted on 20-May-2002 7:11:11 AM by scifidreamer
hey people sorry it's taen me s lomg to get back, it's just 2002 is so-----o not my year, and when the shit hits the fan it really goes flying. just keep telling myself c'est la vive *big* . well anyways, thank you those who have letf feedback and those that just read. here's the next part.

disclaimer: the song Outside is by Staind

Part 9

It was around the beginning of July when we had our first piercing session. It seems to be a lot of things in our life happen spontaneously. We’ll just be chillin’ and then someone will say “I feel like…” or “Wouldn’t it be fun…” or “We should…” and it’s just pandemonium from there.

Well we (Maria, Tess, and myself. Michael and Alex were off doing something lame more then likely) were relaxing at Michael’s when Maria, of all people, says, “We should pierce something,” nodding her head like she’s come to the right final conclusion.

“What? Maria I thought you were terrified of needles?” Tess remarked. I looked at Maria just sprawled out on Michael's couch.

“Yeah, you cry every time you have to get your immunizations updated,” I said with a smile. Tess paused her game and looked up at us.

“Shut up, I do not,” she said throwing a cushion at my head. “And if I might be a little…frightened by needles- not terrified you goof- then what better way to get over that fear?”

Well she did kinda make sense, “But wait, don’t you need your parents with you there or something,” I asked.

“Actually you don’t.” We both looked at Tess. “What, this guy I was kinda talking to a while back wanted to pierce the upper shell of his ear, and he wasn’t 18. Yada yada yada you have be 16 or older.”

Maria smiled at me. “You mean there was actually a time before the crush of the century? Before you gave your heart away to a very clueless Mr. Valenti?” I put my book down, and rested my arms on the dark green trunk, substituting as a coffee table.

Tess got up.

Maria got up.

Oh man this was gonna be funny. I felt a grin, break out across my face.

“Shut up.” Tess stepped forward.

“What’s the matter Tess? You’re not tired of making moon eyes at Kyle are you?”

And they’re off!!!

Tess chased Maria around the entire apartment.

Oops there goes end table. Ooh hope Tess can fix that lamp. Pillows, cushions, shoes, all hurling across the room. And they say girls have no upper arm strength. That’s cuz they’ve never been accidentally punched by Maria.

Some how two big comfy armchairs end up over turned. They’d better be careful or Michael’s gonna get mad at them. I had to duck and cover several times, and I can't stop the laughter from pouring out. I'm yelling encouragement where ever it's needed.

Finally they wind down. “You’re lucky I’m ticklish DeLuca. Next time you’re going down.” Tess says sitting up. She pushes her curly hair outta her face.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. You’re all talk Harding.” Maria cocks back her arm, ready to throw a pillow at Tess' head.

Oh good lord, I inwardly sigh. “Maria I thought you wanted to get something pierced?”

She pauses, and a thoughtful look flits across her face. “Oh yeah.”

“Do you even know how much it’ll cost?” I look over at Tess, “Do you remember?”

“Well if you were nicer to me I would offer to do it for you ingrates, but now I don’t think I want to.” She said crossing her arms over her chest and pointing her nose up in the air. She manages to look sincerely arrogant and disdainful, impressive considering her butt is still firmly planted on the floor, where Maria had her pinned earlier.

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to even if you had offered. Hear me out." Maria held up her hand to ward off Tess' rebuttal. "You wouldn’t even know what the hell you were doing-“

Tess cut off Maria, “Yeah but I could’ve offered to heal it or something. Now you just gotta suffer like all other mortal humans without aliens for friends. Pfffit.” She stuck her tongue out at Maria.

I raised my hand, “You know Tess, I didn’t say anything,” I ducked as Maria threw a bean ball at my head.

“Traitor!” she yelled struggling to suppress a smirk.

“Hey all ya’s gotta do is apologize. Isn’t that right Tess?” I asked pointedly.

“Hmmph. Maybe, I don’t know." She angled her body away from us. "She kinda hurt my feelings- and she threw a shoe at my head, and she tackled and tickled me, and she bit me, and she told me Luke was pansy who had been lured to the darkside and so shouldn’t be a Jedi Master-“

“Tess, what? When?” Dude, she seriously got offended over the weirdest shit.

She looked at me. “When she had me pinned down,” she stated so matter-of-factly I had to resist the urge to laugh.

“So which do you want an apology for?” I asked.

“All of it, especially the Luke comment.”

I turned to look at Maria.

“Oh all right,” she said sounding thoroughly exasperated. “Tess, I’m sorry I threw a shoe at your head, but you threw two at me, and that I tickled you, but I’m not sorry I bit you ‘cuz you bit me first, and I’m especially sorry, and graciously call upon your magnanimity, for insulting Luke.”

"Forgiven,” Tess said loftily. She walked over to Maria. “And I’m sorry I changed your hair to violet, I’ll change it back,” she finished as Maria shouted, “What!” she turned an accusing eye to me, “How could you not tell me!?”

I shrugged, “I saw you tackle her.” She grinned. "Besides I think it looks good."

"Really?" she asked, her face managing to look disbelieving and hopeful at the same time. I nodded. Tess ran her hand over Maria's hair. “Well is it back to normal now?”

“Yep,” I answered. “So are we off?”

“Let’s do this,” Maria pronounced excited.

We piled into Maria's Jetta, blasted Staind from her stereo, rolled the windows down, and sang at the top of our lungs. We arrived at the piercing parlor winded, but excited. We drove out of Roswell to Hondo to get it done. Made it a little more exciting, gave it a little bit more rebellious flavor, going to another town to get it done. We went to a tattoo and piercing parlor called Outer Limits. Very nice inside, clean but without coming off like a surgery prep room; it had a UFO theme. Yes we found it nicely ironic. We leave Roswell, alien paraphernalia capital of the world, only to go to another alien themed venue located outside Roswell. But they're actually one of the top rated parlors in all of New Mexico. Tess read about them in Tattoo magazine.

It was… painful, definitely painful. But it wasn't too bad, you know what I mean?

Maria played it easy, she only got one piercing. She didn't want to play it like others though and get a cartilage piercing at the "corner" of her ear, you know the roundest part at the top? for her first piercing, so she went and did something way ballsy. She got her trageus pierced. That's the little piece of cartilage that kinda looks like it's covering the opening of your ear. Man shit that had to hurt.

We were in a room that looked very much like a doctor's office, including the long reclinable chair/table. She asked a thousand questions.

"So, you know, are you going to use a piercing gun or just the needle? Cuz I heard you could just push the needle through?" her eyes were wide, and her hands kept playing with a piece of string she'd found somewhere, but other than that she looked okay. Besides Maria always talks fast.

"I'm just going to use a needle," the guy said pulling on latex gloves. His name was Guy. Pretty cool huh?

She let out her breath saying okay at the same time.

"If you like I can walk you through it?" he offered as he broke the needle out its package to show her.

"NO!" she gave him a shaky smile and said in a much calmer voice, "No, I just…I'm thinking in this case, at least for me, ignorance is bliss."

"She's afraid of needles," Tess helpfully supplied, earning a glare from Maria.

"Alright, well I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt, but it's not so bad," he said readying everything. "You want it right in the middle?"

She just nodded. We talked to her, trying to distract her and at least doing a fairly good job, if only superficially. She was nervous but trying not to think about it. She was sitting ramrod straight, but she kept talking, which was good.

I guess Guy could tell Maria was pretty freaked and doing her best to suck it up, cuz while she was trying so hard not to think about what he was doing, she missed him moving to stand right beside her. He made a small dot, where he thought she might want it, and looked over at me and Tess. We nodded our approval, as Maria continued chattering away.

"Okay, ready?" he asked.

She gave a little jump, paled a little more, nodded her head, and said a faint yes.

"Alright just take a deep breath whenever you want and on the count of three…" he just left it hanging.

"Okay," she said stronger, "Do it." She gave a small shudder. I don't know if it was nerves or excitement.


"Two..." she bit her lip; he pushed the needle. She didn't jump or start, or anything. Just clenched her eyes together tight. And in the time I took me to say this it was over.

As soon as Tess and I saw what he was doing we turned away. Okay I admit, I was a little squeamish. I have no problem looking at my own blood, but other's? ugh. I guess Tess turned that first time cuz I did. When we looked back Maria was letting out a shaky breath. She smiled at us.

I have her one of those half smiles, filled with concern. "How was it? Not too bad?"

"Nah, stings more than anything." He gave her a mirror.

She turned her head to the right, "Cool," she said with a genuine smile. The jewelry looked similar to a bar, only curve like a half moon, with balls at each end. I think he had said it was an 14 gauge.

"Alright whose next?" he threw out those gloves he was wearing and put a new pair on.

I took a deep breath, "That'll be me." I sat in the vacated seat.

"So where did you want yours?" he asked as he disinfected my whole ear.

"Um, I was thinking kinda a third of the way up my ear, right about here," I lightly pinched the area I was thinking of on my left ear.

"Okay, do you want both of them there?"

"Well yeah, like one a bit above the other. Is that do-able?"

"Yeah, totally," he leaned in towards my ear. I felt the tip of the marker touch me. Wow I was really doing this.

He gave me the mirror, "Is right there okay?"

"Yeah, um, can I have the bottom one a little closer?" I wanted it so there were only a few centimeters between both piercings.

"Cool," he wiped at the dot with an alcohol soaked cotton ball, then made another mark. "Right there better?"

"Yes, thank you."

Two minutes later I had two piercings, with small hoops, gauge 16, on my left ear, a little below the middle. The needle going through wasn't bad, it only hurt after.

"I guess you're all that's left," he said to Tess.

"Yep." She hopped onto the seat.

"Now where did you want yours?"

"Um, I want one right here," she pinched the middle of the outer rim of her right ear, "and one right here, " she touched the top of her ear a few centimeters away from where it reconnected with her head. "And the other two, where ever they go to have the bar put through on my left ear."

I don't how she was able to do it, but she was the epitome of cool; very calm and relaxed. Her legs were unconsciously beating against the bottom of the chair. It's like she was completely unperturbed by the idea. And she was going to get four.

Guy was pretty cool, and because all together we got seven piercings he gave us discount, so we nicely tipped him. We walked out of the cool air conditioned parlor, into the oppressive heat. Maria usually leaves her windows down during the summer, she's pretty certain no one would want to steal a sans air condition '93 Jetta, so her car was only slightly less stifling then outside. There's something about the heat that makes even small talk fill heavy and feel like a great task.

Once we were all inside, and Maria was sure we were safely buckled we began questioning each other. "Hey did you guys hear a loud squishy pop-ish noise with yours?" Maria asked as we pulled onto the street. Tess and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Nooooo." I said, fanning myself with my hand. I hate being stuck in heat and traffic. That's like a double whammy.

"Nope." Tess quipped. "So what, you heard the cartilage being pushed out'n'shit?"

Maria smiled, "Guess I did."

"Eww, god that's gross," I said shuddering.

"Oh give me a break, I thought I was supposed to be the squeamish one?" Maria said chuckling.

"Whatever. I think we need to celebrate our venture into self-expression and a finer appreciation of pain, with some Ben and Jerry's, you guys down with that? And Tess, are you gonna do your Samantha-genie-alien shit and make sure this doesn't sting anymore or what?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah" she said waving her hand dismissively. "So Liz, what do you think your parents gonna say?" She leaned forward, resting her arms on the top the passanger seat, where I was.

I groaned. Oh yeah I still had to tell them.


"Shit Tess, I can't believe you got four," Alex said. "Hey man, pass the Saturn rings." He said to Michael.

"Hey did that shit hurt?" Kyle asked Maria pointing to her piercing.

"Kinda, though it started throbbing after, but Tess did her alien thang, and was all like pain be gone." We all sat gathered around the back booth at the Crash, with Tess sitting in a chair at the end.

"Shit, when my dad saw my piercing he got all pissed. Saying if I wanted to put holes in my body he would shoot me for free." Kyle said biting into his burger.

"Yeah, my dad wasn't too pleased," I said. "Said he was disappointed and didn't talk to me for the rest of the evening. My mom said she couldn't believe I would do something so irresponsible, and how do I know the place was clean, and to just watch in five months I'm going to get Hepatitis B." Everyone just shook their head, knowing all to well how parents can be.

"So where'd you guys go get it done?" Alex asked bogarting my Alien Blast milkshake.

"We went to this place in Hondo. They were really clean, and on the up and up, and had decent prices," Maria answered, picking out the pickles of her club sandwich. She elbowed Michael, "Man scoot over." Michael just pushed her back. "The piercer guy was pretty hot; he had some pretty funky piercings, but not to many or anything, and damn there's something about tattoos…' she shook her head.

"Dude, I know what you mean," Tess added. "His tattoos gave him this appeal, he didn't have so many that he looked like a freak or anything, but damn."

"Hey dude," Alex looked at Michael, "don't you have a tattoo? Where'd you get yours?"

"What!?!" Maria spun to look at him so fast, some of the mustard from her sandwich went flying, hitting Michael in the chest. "You have a tattoo?" "What is it?" Tess, Maria, and I all said at the same time.

"Yeah man, I've seen that shit, how long have you had it?" Kyle asked taking a sip of his soda.

Michael wiped at his shirt with a sprite soaked napkin. He gave Maria the evil eye, but wisely kept whatever comment he was thinking to himself. He took a deep breath, striving to keep his cool. "Got it about 8 months ago, over at Art's Place on Juniper. I know Art's younger brother from juvvie." Wow, that was like a speech for Michael. He usually never volunteered information.

"So what is it?" Maria asked.

"Aw crap," he mumbled.

"Shut the fuck up and show us," Tess said with a smile. He rolled his eyes. He turned so we could see his left arm, and pulled up his T-shirt sleeve. It was a crouching man bathed in flames on his upper arm, starting at his shoulder and about six inches long. "Shit that's tight," Tess said impressed. "That's some awesome coloring, and you definitely earn Jedi points for not going with suck ass hot rod flames."

And so we talked about the shit we would do if we could, and made plans for the summer.


We spent a lot of our spare time down in the warehouse district, right by the old train yard, that summer. It was ours to do with as we pleased, our special place, where we created our own haven. We’d sneak out of our homes, filling a small thrill at the secrecy we built around it, meet up at around 12:30 once you knew everyone was gone for the night, and just chill in the best of ways. We didn’t always do crazy things, or engage in wild stunts. People sometimes think to have fun, or rather to not be bored, you have to do SOMETHING; there must be plans that keep you busy and are not a part of the mundane world. Well guess what? Our lives were the mundane, the absolute ordinary. I mean, we’d chill, and it was fun, not cuz there was excitement going on, just cuz we were together. Life is what you make it, and we lived for each other. To see each other at night and talk, and bitch, and rant on the injustices of life, in a grand scale (I.e.: the genocide and industrial/war politics in East Timor) and the petty scale (I.e.: bitch ass punks that like to hog all the match books at the food truck that came before school started), to see each other and rough house and laugh, and care about everything and nothing at the same time. We kept all that as our lives grew and changed- as complications arose and it seemed humanity had turned its back on us- the ability to stand in awe of the big picture, and still appreciate the beauty and precision of each brush stroke.

So we’d gather around, and have a gay ol’ time… ri-ght. Michael would bring the crates we used to hold all the spray paints and other such paraphernalia, and kept stashed at his house, and Alex would bring this huge boom box. And even though his really looked nothing like this, it always reminded me of those boom boxes you see in eighties movies that are rectangular and have like ten-inch speakers, and kids would carry them on their shoulders, held steady with one arm, as they walk-danced down the halls or streets, or actually just about everywhere.

While Michael, Tess, and I would practice our art -painting all over the walls and what not- Maria, Alex, and Kyle would practice theirs, fine tuning their technique. May I just say that Maria can pop-lock like no other. It’s as if each joint moves of its own accord, but over all it has this fluidity, you would never have thought possible, filled with a weird grace. And Alex, I have no freakin' clue how he contorts his body like that. It's fuckin' as if he was made of rubber. And no one can windmill like Kyle.

Not everything we drew made sense, check it some of it was just mad scribbling. Tess would go trigger-happy and just doodle up the wall sometimes. One time Tess set the wall on fire. Now I note this now cuz everything happened so fast; Maria, Tess, and I have a certain fascination with fire. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s fun as hell; I won’t exactly go into details, suffice to say we never “just for the fun of it” set fire to anything larger than a garbage can, and Tess is like this human fire extinguisher, so nothing ever got outta hand. We always had matches on our person, Tess carried a Zippo and I had a what we called a crackhead lighter, it’s a lighter with three chambers instead of two, and this little switch that lets you adjust the flame; we call it a crackhead lighter cuz it’s big, has more juice than other lighters, and the flame gets really huge… all better for holding a spoon fulla crack over. Well she had just finished this really big spiral and the next thing I know, I hear a whoosh. I look over to where Tess is, and see the center of the spiral on fire. Spray paint is so damn flammable, but when set on fire it doesn’t stay lit very long. Tess was just standing there, this huge grin illuminating her face, her hands in these excited little fists by her face. She caught my look and her grin got bigger and her eyes carried her excitement. Oh yeah let the good times begin.


Night 'Nother City

Con't from previous chapter

"You ever touch her again, I'll kill you," his fist connected with the other guy's jaw, creating a loud, horrible popping sound. The guy's eyes went wide as he slumped to the carpet, a pile of bruises and broken bones.

Max turned around and saw Isabel just standing there, a blank expression on her face. "Isabel? Isabel?" he called out to her. He glared at the semi-conscious body on the ground, and valiantly resisted the urge to kick, till he was a bag of mush, barely held together by his skin.

She looked at him, her eyes uncomprehending.

"Come on, let's get you home."

Her eyes fell, and then closed, as a single tear escaped.

He led her out the small flat, away from this place of pain.

"You could've killed him Max!!!" his dad shouted. He had long since abandoned his seat and was leaning far over the table, braced on one arm, while the other flew through the air.

"He would've watched him rape her or kill her!!!" Max paced behind his chair.

Philip flinched but pushed forward yet, “Max, you knew the agreement we made. No more fights. He's in the hospital barely hanging on. He dies, you go to jail!"

Max rolled his eyes. "She wasn't the first one. So what, I get put away for 15 to life cuz I killed him, but if he lives everyone just forgets he was an accessory to the rapes of over 5 girls? That he was too much of a little bitch to do the right thing?"

"Watch your language." His father crossed his arms over his chest.

"Whatever's wrong with him, I had nothing to do with. He was able to walk, and talk, and breath on his own when I left him."

"Max there are better ways to go about taking care of guys like him. It's not like we don't care. Like we are not outraged and appalled. I want that punk to suffer Max, I want him to get what's coming to him, I really do, him and his no good brother, but you have to go through all the proper, legal channels, you can't just mete out justice as you see fit Max. You're not judge, jury, and executioner."

He cut off his father, "Yeah well they should've thought of that before they tried to rape my sister! The law can't always be counted to -"

"Your father and I have decided to move. We think, we hope actually, that a fresh start will do us all some good." Diane said suddenly, hoping to end this confrontation before it could deteriorate any farther. She looked up at both men from her seat, hands twisting together, but still firmly placed on the table.

"What? Where are we moving?" he asked, looking intently at his mom, suddenly nervous.

"We're moving back to Roswell. Your dad and I have a house we would lease out over there. The current tenants' lease has run out, and we've decided not to renew it. We've thought about it for a while, and what with these latest sad developments with our family, we really think this is for the best."

"When do we move?" he asked blankly.

"In a month. You both will go to W. Roswell High, our old alma mater."

"Fine," he said not really looking at either parent, his mind already elsewhere. "I'm gonna go check up on Isabel."

Next day

Max sat on the bench of his weight machine while Isabel stood in front of him, trembling with contained anger. "No Max it's not oh-kay!!" she yelled, slamming the side of her fist into the punching bag. "They know. I didn't want anybody to know! Especially not my parents! God! Agh! I hate this. I hate this so much. This is my problem, and now everybody knows. Maybe I didn't want anybody to know? Maybe this is embarrassing as it is? And to have people know?"

"Embarrassing how? You did nothing wrong." he asked his voice rising with his confusion.

"That's not the point. The point is this is something that happened to me, something personal and private and humiliating and maybe… maybe I can barely handle knowing it myself, and now- God, I don't want to see the knowledge of it in anyone's eyes. I hate that people know this. I can't…I can't quite explain this. I'm ashamed, and I'm scared, and I just want to believe it didn't happen." She said faster and faster. She took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. "I can almost overlook it. It's like this part of me, is able to not care, and that part of me, is what's allowing me to keep on moving and living, otherwise I'll think about it and I'll go crazy caring and reliving it. And you know I can still smell it Max," she clenched her jaw, "I can still smell sex, everywhere I go. It's like it's clinging to me, and I want to throw up. I want to retch my guts out, and hope that I spew out the memory and the feelings. And I can't cry. I want too, I can feel it trembling through my body Max, but it the tears won't come, so I try to scream Max, but that's nto even working... my eyes may not cry, but my body needs to. And now people know that I've been… violated. And. I. Hate. Everything."

He could see it in her face- the pain her eyes, the way her lower lip quivered, and her chin dimpled like it only did when she was crying- that she wanted to cry, that her body needed for her to cry. But he noticed, that something was not allowing her to. Something was holding her back. He got up, and made to wrap his arm around her, to offer some comfort, but she hunched her shoulders and slowly moved back. "Don't touch me." She saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes. "Please don't touch me." And with that she walked up the stairs and out the basement.


An interlude: A letter from Isabel

It was three days till they moved. Three days till all the shit here was left behind, and new shit was uncovered. She was almost going to miss a few of the people she called friend; definitely wasn't going to miss the recent drama; and was assuredly going to miss the solitude and peace she felt star gazing at the small, long since forgotten park up in the hills. She would take the privacy and serenity the night gave her, and wrap herself in it tight. Not ashamed of what she was, or what had happened. Not worried, or fearful. Just at rest, for a few blissful hours, secluded in her own private sanctum. Where there was only a tranquil oblivion. She sighed and sat crossed legged on her bed clutching a pillow close to her chest, her chin resting against the top of it. But she wasn't there, and the sun offered no comfort. She wanted to yell and scream and holler, wail and sob, but nothing would come out. She was tired of the nothing, this nothing. She reached across to her night stand, opened the small drawer, and pulled the first thing she could find to write on, which just happened to be a small, old Spotty Dotty diary, she kept there. She never had it in her to throw out all recollection of whatever childhood anguish and injustice, she believed inflicted upon her. A small smile quirked up the corner of her at the sight of it. She fished out a pen, and set to writing just how she was feeling down.

I feel so lost. So absolutely very lost. I can't cry- no tears come, I'm all dried up inside. I can't scream- I've tried to, I want to; I feel it pulling deep inside me, but all that comes out is a sound similar to nails being drawn down a chalkboard. I can't release this physically, can't hit anything- it just won't come, the energy to do it. I thought I felt dead inside, but that's not it. Inside I'm boiling with emotion, with rage; I can feel the scream flooding through my throat, ready to burst forth from my mouth, but it's like it dies there. It goes somewhere, but not out, and I need it out. I need hot tears to scorch my cheeks, burn pure, but nothing. I cried once, for a minute when, my mom told me everything would be okay; that she loved me, and then she held in her arms and just rocked me. And then it was over, and I walked away. Got in my car, drove to the "hidden" kiddy park up in the hills, and simultaneously thought about nothing, and tried not to think about anything- and now, I can't cry. I feel the hurt, the sorrow, the pain mask my face –it's all there- I feel everything as if I would cry, feel it sweep through me, but the tears barely begin to shimmer, and then they're gone. I feel my body shake with sobs that won't come. They're lost somewhere within. And my body- my body won't let me release this hurt and pain, this humiliation, in ugly bruises or spilled blood. As soon as my hands claw, they fall limp at my side, so I can't even scratch this feeling out. Max's punching bag offers no true resistance, and I don't want to worry my family by punching the walls or doors, though they beckon to me. The only semblance of release I get is when I hit the punching bag with a bat. I feel some of the nothing that fills me, travel down my arm, through the bat, and into the bag. But it's never enough of the nothing to start a true drainage, so the nothing quickly pores into the void. There's so much nothing- such a lost feeling- covering everything else. It's like the nothing is a thin layer, just below my skin, and so though I'm filled with hurt, sorrow, pain, anger, and humiliation, they can't break through this thin layer of steel nothing. It's all hidden just below the surface, and whatever chinks they try to spill through, the nothing quickly steals them back- a quick grab before true freedom. And so I'll feel the anger, sorrow, etc, and blankness all at once. I'm held prisoner by the nothing, and I can't care enough to break free. And the nothing is slowly slipping into other aspects of my life. Making it so all frustration and anger are bottled in me. I can't seem to let out any bad, or angry, or sad, or negative emotions and feelings. And the nothing is not like depression- it's just nothing. But I can genuinely laugh and smile now. Almost feel like my "normal" self. It took me five days after it happened to get that back, hopefully it won't be too much longer to be completely myself.


… All the times
That I've cried
All this wasted
It's all inside
And I feel
All this pain
Stuffed it down
It's back again
And I lie
Here in bed
All alone
I can't mend
But I feel
Tomorrow will be OK

But I'm on the outside
And I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside your ugly
Your ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you

She reached over and turned off her radio. She snuggled down into the covers and prayed not to think and to cry.

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 20-May-2002 7:21:24 AM ]
posted on 20-Oct-2002 5:51:44 AM by scifidreamer
hey all people, just wanted to say that as soon as I can find the disk where I wrote more to this story I'll be posting, but it might be awhile cause I got a buttload of unpacked boxes to look through.