Crossword Puzzles (Morgana, Closed)

[[Ree]craft]

Egypt D'Vici

Another day. Another average day. I was not disappointed in it, really. I often tell myself that average is good. If my life is average that means no drama, no heartbreak, nothing bad. Despite contrary belief, average is best.

I lead a normal life. I go to work every day, get my pay, come home and help the family out. I have a normal family. Syria is like every other teenager in the world, really, despite how much she annoys me. Adrian is only a baby. Of course he annoys me. All babies do is cry. But he is a normal baby. There is nothing extraordinary about any of us. Syria likes to think she insanely beautiful (though she is just as nice looking as the next person out there) and even I sometimes daydream that I'm rather smarter than most. But neither is true. We're all average people. Everything about us is the same as the person next door.

And like normal people, we like to dream of a better future. I know it's not good to do that: I mean the dreams just get crushed and then where are you? But today I'm ashamed to admit I did dream. It was a Sunday, so I get my precious day off. I like to sit in the puny little park that District 7 boasts and just watch the trees and the sky. It's relaxing. I don't have any hobbies really so how else can I waste my time?

Today I dreamed of the beach. I'd always wanted to see one. Walk barefoot in sand and feel the warm water against your ankles and the hot sun on your face. I could almost conjure up the warmth of the sun against my eyelids when I closed my eyes. But of course that small vague feeling was just my imagination and it was gone before I knew it was there.

After about ten minutes of these hopeless dreams I pushed myself off my bench and looked around. It was getting towards around noon and I figured the family would need me to help out with lunch or something of the sort. I'm regretful to leave, though. It's peaceful here and I don't want to have to go home to work.

"Could make a bouquet," I mutter to myself, happy with the idea. We rarely have something pretty and colorful like flowers in our home. As I pluck dandelions out of the ground I have to wonder why our house lacks such simple beauty like this. It's not like it's hard to obtain in the world and it can bring so much joy.

Having taken my share of flowers (pink, yellow, and white) I was now late to go home. But still I didn't want to leave. Maybe it was subconscious or maybe it was just me being clumsy, but I tripped and that bouquet I'd gone to so much trouble to arrange went flying and the flowers lay scattered all over the ground. I glance to the left at the person I had actually tripped over.

"I'm so sorry," I say as I bend down and scoop up the flowers again. But something else catches my eye as I scoop up the flowers. Something black and shaped remarkably like...

"Excuse me," I whisper standing slowly back up and facing the person. "Is that yours?" I point downwards at the gun I had seen under my bench.

[Morgana]

Dignity Ryder

Why is it that as soon as life is starting to look up, a load of crap is hurled at me once again? I'd finally come to grips with the fact that I was having my uncle's baby. I'd decided I would raise it to be a normal child, and I'd be a way better mother than Aunt Iona ever was. I didn't care anymore that it was Uncle's baby. Because it was my child, too. I still feel that way. But here's what's changed: I've had the damn baby. And I have to give credit to Aunt Iona. She had to raise four kids, two of which weren't her own. It isn't half as easy as she made it look. I don't blame her for being so mean to me. She had a lot on her plate.

I've been working overtime at the sawmill to help pay for baby Aspen. Children are expensive, and being a single mother is hard. I congratulate any woman who has ever had to raise a child while working and still managed to do a halfway decent job. I'm beat. I need to get home to Aspen. Mrs. Sorensen is getting tired of taking care of Aspen until six in the evening. She's at least sixty years old, and has raised seven children of her own. I'm grateful for her presence those first days after Aspen was born. I had no idea what to do, and she helped me out, teaching me what I needed to know. I'm very lucky to have her as a neighbor.

Even though I need to get home, I find myself walking to the park. I don't often go here, mostly because I don't have the time. I'm sure once Aspen is older, I'll take him here all the time. I could bring him now, but I don't have a stroller, and I don't think I'll have the money for one anytime soon. I collapse onto a bench, closing my eyes for a moment and just listening to the sounds around me. Spring has come to District Seven, and all the birds chirps heir rejoice. Squirrels skitter through the trees, laughing at each other. Weak sunlight pours over my weary body and warms me. A tear snakes down my cheek. Why couldn't life ever be this simple? There was always something else to accomplish, some other hurdle to jump, or a problem to solve. Why couldn't I just be like these squirrels, running around with laughter, always happy and playful? And when the winter came, I could snuggle up in a hollow and just sleep.

I sigh, opening my eyes. I've had my moment of rest; now it's time to head home. Just as I stretch out my legs in preparation of getting up, someone trips over me. I get ready to swear at whoever it is for making a bad day worse, but they apologize quickly. Well, at least they had the decency to do that much. I realize that the person who tripped over me is a girl slightly older than I am. "Excuse me," she says. "Is that yours?" She's pointing downward, underneath the bench I'm sitting on. My eyes go wide as I recognize the object for what it is. A gun. I jump off the bench and stand on the far side of the path, trying to get as far away from it as I can.

"That is not mine." This is just great. Yet another problem thrown into my already tumultuous life.

[[Ree]craft]

(so it's up to you what happens next. i think i created enough for now )

Egypt D'Vici

You don't end up in situations like this. You just don't. It's what happens in books or movies. The very situation I've been telling myself for ages I would not enjoy. Well, maybe I should be telling myself it would be enjoyable, because look! I am caught in one of the very dilemmas I've always said never happen.

Well, quit wallowing in pain. What's the next step? There's no one else in the park, whoever this gun belongs to... Well, what idiot would leave a gun lying around. If this person is still around waiting for the chance to seize the gun and run then telling the peacekeepers will just give the guy a chance to get his gun back and leave. But if the man was here... If he's enough of a terrorist to own the stinking gun, then what would stop him from attacking us here and now.

Nothing. I guess I spent a little too much time thinking. There's nothing to stop him, for right when that thought crossed my mind, something big and strong leaped out of nowhere and hit me across the face. I remember flying through the air and seeing a blur of colors before that big something caught me from around the neck and shoved his hand to my mouth to stop my scream. It took me a moment for my eyes to focus. I was so dazed I couldn't do anything to retaliate.

The man (as I know he's a man now) was holding the gun and pointing it at the girl I tripped on earlier who was on the floor propped on her elbows, bleeding from tears made in the asphalt road. I'm still dazed but not so out of it that I don't realize that this man could kill us in an instant if he wanted. I struggle trying to get a good look at him. If I could get away... report him to the peacekeepers. But I'm to low. He's holding me at waist height. He's got me in a stranglehold where I can just barely breathe. No chance of talking, much less screaming.

I don't see much of a hope. If the girl moves, then bang; she's dead. I can't move, period. There's a chance he'd just leave us here, seeing as killing us would leave to much of a trail. But leaving us alive would be just as dangerous. Maybe I'm just hoping he's got a soft spot somewhere inside him.

I try and swallow, but I can't. I feel myself sweating. I'll never get that bouquet of flowers home. I can even see the dandelions and other weeds now, scattered all over the floor. If he kills us, there'll be blood all over them. I shudder, and I can tell the man can feel me shudder but he doesn't respond.

[Morgana]

Dignity Ryder

It all happens so fast. The man running up, grabbing the girl, forcing me to the ground. My face was pressed to the ground, and my hands were scraped up from trying to stop my fall. They sting, and I wouldn't be surprised to find a few rocks embedded in the skin. The man shouts at me to prop myself up on my elbows, and I soon see why. It's so he can press the gun to my temple while still holding the girl.

I'm going to die. All of this has been for nothing. Putting up with Uncle's physical abuse and Iona's hate. Getting pregnant, and those months full of wondering what will happen. Going into labor, raising a baby...all of it has been for nothing. Because no matter what I do, my life will cease at the barrel end of this gun.

What will happen to Aspen? Where will he go? Will Mrs. Sorensen take him in, or will he have to live with my friend Aria? I don't know if Aria would be able to raise a child. She has a life of her own to live. She doesn't need to be weighed down like that. If I die, Aspen will be all alone. I can't let that happen. My parents both died before I had a chance to even say their names. I won't let Aspen grow up like that. There must be something I can do to get myself out of this.

I can't scream. He'd surely pull the trigger if I did. I can't run. And this other girl, she can't do either of those things. So what's left? I could talk to him. Tell him things about me. Maybe then he'll see that I'm a real person, and he won't want to kill me. If I can stall him long enough, someone else might wander into the park, see what's going on, and find a Peacekeeper.

My voice is shaky as I start to speak. I pray he won't pull the trigger as soon as words start coming from my mouth. "My name is Dignity Ryder. I am seventeen years old. My parents died just two months after I was born. All the people I have ever loved have died. My sister and both my cousins. Life didn't matter to me. But then I met Aria, and things changed. I began to like who I was again. I began to live." I choke on a sob. I don't want my life to be over. I want to watch Aspen grow up. I want to see Aria married. I want to see my Uncle's body buried six feet under.

"I have a son. His name is Aspen, and he's three months old. When he smiles, it's like the sun has come down from the sky. I love him. I hate him sometimes, too, for taking away parts of my life I'll never get back. But he's just a baby. I can't blame him for any of that. I'm the only person he has in this life. If I die, he'll have nothing. He deserves far better than that. He's just a child. He can't take care of himself let. Let me live, for his sake. I promise I won't turn you in to the Peacekeepers. Just please, let me go."

I look at the girl, try to signal to her with my eyes to start talking. I don't know if she can talk in her position, but we have a better chance of living if she does. My tears streak down my cheeks and mingle with the asphalt below. I don't need this shit in my life. I've had enough of it for a lifetime already.

[[Ree]craft]

(If you want you can control what the man with the gun does also )

Egypt D'Vici

Words. I never paused to figure out exactly how crazy and amazing these sounds are. How we humans have given these strange noises we make meaning. As this girl speaks, Dignity, I feel like I've lapsed back a couple hundred thousand years and we're all cave men and these words are still just noises. I don't understand it.

And yet I do. They register in my brain as noises, but I understand what they are nonetheless. This girl is taking the sympathy route telling this man about her life in the hope he does have a soft spot. I learn things about Dignity that I'd never know otherwise. Maybe this is just some ruse from whatever God is up there to get us to be great friends. Some joke. I'm sure Dignity is enjoying the joke just as much as I am.

I can tell that the girl is willing me to talk also. Prolong our moments in this world. I would if I could, and maybe, had I had the chance I could have rasped out some sentences, but before I had even a half second to open my mouth, the man has started to shout using all sorts of words my mother would ground me for saying.

"So you have a f***ing son, huh? What the hell would I care you have a son? I had one to, and look what the happened to him! Loads of people have kids. Life's tough. You live with it. I'm going to kill you so that I can get about getting the revenge that my son deserves!"

He's retaliating to what Dignity said, I realize. Dignity has a son, this man has a son. Revenge. No pity. Hard life. Death. So he is going to kill us. He's going to pull the trigger. Dignity is going to die. But she just can't. I can't just sit here and let someone innocent, someone who deserves life, just die.

I open my mouth and gasp as loud as I can. "What if we can help you get your revenge?" Just to stop him pulling that trigger just to get Dignity and I to walk away with our lives. I was past thinking of the future. Only the present. Some little voice in the back of my head was warning me that if he accepted my offer, I was leading not just me, but Dignity also, into a bunch of muck and filth. And we may die there, and it will all be my fault. But I ignored that voice. It's either die now or later.

I glance at Dignity willing her, like she willed me earlier, to understand and to go along with the plan. If you call it a plan. More of a desperate hope. I look back up at the man who's averted his angry gaze to me, though his gun was still pointed at Dignity. I knew he was still aware she was there. He would tense his finger if Dignity moved. There was nothing either of us could do but talk.

Words, those amazing sounds. Whoever said the pen was mightier than sword? I guess I'm just starting to appreciate that.

[Morgana]

Dignity Ryder

The guy starts rambling about his own son dying, and revenge, blah, blah, blah. Okay, so my plan didn't work. But it was worth a shot. Okay, I take that back. Rambling about my life is not worth getting shot for. I need another plan. And then the girl says something about helping him get revenge. Hell, no. I'm not getting myself into that mess. I think the mess I'm in right now is big enough. I don't have any plans to do anything, so why don't I just say something and see what he does? If he shoots me, I guess I'm dead. i don't want to die, of course, but I've done all i know to do. Anything beyond that is just stupidity.

"You're getting revenge the wrong way." The next thing I know, I see his finger tensing on the trigger. i glance up at his face. He's smiling. Guess I said the wrong thing. A tear rolls down my cheek. I'm sorry, Aspen. Guess you'll have to grow up without me. His finger squeezes the trigger. But there's no pain. Well, there is pain, but it feels more like someone punched me than shot me in the head. I look up at the guy again. He's cackling madly. And that's when I get it. There was never any bullets in the gun. And this guy is bat-shit crazy.

I am not taking this shit anymore. I sit up, since I can do that now that there's no gun pressed to my head. Crazy is still busy laughing his head off, so he's not paying any attention to me. I get into a crouch, preparing myself. He's still got the other girl in a tight grip. I spring at him, knocking him over. He releases the girl, and I see her scramble away. I punch the guy in the stomach a couple of times. He deserves it, after screwing up my day the way he did.

There is a glint of silver as he pulls something from a back pocket. A knife. His gun may not have hurt me, but that knife certainly can. I pull in a deep breath, then scream, "Help! Somebody help!" Even if no one hears, maybe my scream will tell the girl beside me to run for help. I feel the sting of Crazy's knife as it bites into the skin of my left arm. Thanks. That was my good arm, thankyouverymuch.

I see him preparing his knife for another attack. I quickly roll off him and try to get out of the way. That girl better run. Fucking fast.