Caislín fingered her father’s crown.
The funeral was held yesterday. She was officially the queen of Destrea. Instead of sapphire coronation banners, black and purple streamers danced in the whistling wind to mourn the loss of a monarch. She was given word that Sa’di had been implicated with the band of terrorists and had since disappeared, thus proving their points.

The next day was like a remake of the rehearsal, with ten times the pomp of before. Thousands of the people of the kingdom crammed themselves in the squares and streets. Carriages and parades whizzed by, not that the four men were paying attention. The two Údaens had to hide themselves under leather jerkins and hoods to shadow their dark faces; an ongoing war tore the two nations apart, and to see the face of a strange Údaen on a special occasion would rouse the crowds with suspicion and contempt.
This time, their suspicion would have been understandable.

With her whole body quivering in shock she let go of the dagger, and she ran.

***

He looked up as she walked through the doorway of the living area and headed towards the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. Gonna walk a bit."

"With a backpack and a flashlight? Where are you walking to?"

The tips of her fingers tapped her denim thigh impatiently while she scrambled an answer together.

"It's been five days since Kent went missing, Jax. I have a feeling he's out there. I have to keep looking."

The fully loaded car was running and music was playing. Sunbeams reflected off of the windshield while the light danced around patches of grime left behind by grasshoppers and pesky birds.

"Let it go...let it GOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

I think Gretchen purposefully put a Disney soundtrack in before I picked up the kids. She knows how much I detest that stuff.

Greg waived at his sister in the rearview mirror and tried to tell himself that she wasn't smirking at him.

"Prankster."

"What'd you say, Uncle Greg?"

My name is Mary. Though many of you may not know me now, I was once one of the most active, involved, and prolific contributors to ApricotPie, and many of you who have been here for a long while no doubt remember me.
I joined ApricotPie in 2008. Shortly after joining, I began posting a chapters of a serial historical fiction called The Shadowfields. It was written offhandedly, perhaps even flippantly, purely for the fun of writing it, while my focus and concentration were dedicated to my more serious current project at the time.

I smiled at my little girl and imagined what frame would fit best around this pose of hers. And then I stopped smiling. There were tears in her eyelashes. I looked closer and noticed the little pucker just below the left side of her lips that she always wore when she was sad or hurt. I wondered what was wrong. I forgot about the perfect frame and worried about my little daughter. I wondered if I should wake her up and ask what was wrong. Her mother would have known. But her mother wasn't here. I shook my head as I turned to go out the door and then I stopped.

June 12, 2009
Dear Journal,
I made two new friends at the park this afternoon. They were a brother and sister named Josh and Kelly. Josh is 16 and Kelly is 14. They're homeschooled. I figured out that they live three houses down from mom and me so they invited me to hang out at their house tomorrow afternoon for a couple of hours. They have a big pool so we'll probably swim. And Josh said he'd teach me how to skateboard. He's pretty cool.
Kennedy

June 3rd, 2009
Dear Journal,

*A/N* Mature thematic content such as mentions of drug use/mental illness.

It smelled like sweat and drugs when he got home. The apartment that he and his mother shared was small and dark. The lamp had fallen over, shards of glass sprinkled across the floor. His mother was passed out in the fetal position on the musty grey couch, fresh needle marks on her right arm, her white shirt stained.

We're on the way to a rally to hear our freedom ring.
To protest for the truth my heart will joyfully sing.

Though truth is the minority,
My God is the majority,
This my song shall be:
"May God's freedom ring!"

Now I will stand up, give my answer to the call,
And with God to hold me up by His grace I won't fall.

Though truth is the minority,
My God is the majority,
This my song shall be:
"May God's freedom ring!"