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Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 01

By: SPNKRAZE



The nightmare was always the same. 

The dark surrounds me. I can hear her calling my name, but I won't turn around, I keep running toward the end. I don't know her name. I've never seen her face before. Her dark hair and pretty, deep blue eyes... they haunted me. In my dream, she is running towards me, begging me to let her explain. But I kept moving forward, running away from her. I was just about to run over the edge of the cliff, but then...

I jolted out of bed with a start, sweating and shaking. I couldn't shake the last images of the nightmare from my mind. I darted my eyes around my bedroom anxiously, and even after convinced myself that nothing was misplaced, I still couldn't slow my racing heart. I felt like I was going to lose it. I needed a release.

I paced around my bedroom frantically, practically hyperventilating until my breath caught at the sight of the scissors on my desk. I went over and picked them up with shaky hands, remembering that summer when I tried to cut my own hair with them. 

Last summer, my life was normal, I thought as I remembered the Fourth of July party down at the river and brought the scissors down to my wrist, digging the sharp edge into my skin.

I watched as the blood welled up and I felt the calming effects the cut had solicited. I breathed deep and then returned to my bed. I sat a moment, waiting for my breathing to even out, before giving in to my exhaustion. 

Everything happens for a reason. 

Things go wrong so that you can appreciate when they go right. Sometimes things fall apart so that better things can fall together.

At least, that is what I have been trying to convince myself, as well as my friends. I look back at my life and I feel as if someone had it all planned. I have this feeling that someone or something is there saying, "Okay. This bit goes here and then this happens."

However, I have also come to realize that if I had not lived through a certain time in my life, then many other events never would have happened. 

It was June, nearing the end of my fifteenth year. It was the last day of school and soon my friends and I would be free to do as we pleased for three months. Most kids my age were relieved. However, for me, school was my one place that I could escape these demons inside me. It was the only steady thing in my life at that time and I was feeling... empty and alone. For no real apparent reason, I was feeling so far away from gone. I just wanted to be home.

The next morning, I woke up grudgingly. Today was going to be particularly horrible, when in reality; it should be one of the best days of my teenage life. But my anxiety was at an all time high. I couldn't believe I had another panic attack last night. That was the third one this week. But no matter was my anxiety level; I had become an expert of hiding what I was really feeling. That was the reason I began writing in the first place. I needed an out. However, these days, it just doesn't seem to be enough.

I shoved my nightmare to the back of my mind, sighed and threw the covers off me. I made my way over to my closet. I paused, looking down at my pajamas, which only caused me to groan. I must have slept on my arm. My shirt had lines of dried blood all over it.

I studied the damage I had inflicted the night before, feeling disgusted. There were three cuts total marring the pale skin of my forearm, one for each episode this week. I don't know what made me pick up the scissors that first night. I think I was just sick of feeling as if I couldn't release the pressure inside of me. Something had to give. Now it seemed that each time I had an attack, I wanted to cut myself again.

"Long sleeves, it is," I growled, frustrated with myself.

I dressed quickly, attempted a look in the mirror, and sighed, once again. Dark circles had permanently taken up residence on my pale face, giving my hazel eyes a haunted look. I looked lifeless, which was pretty much how I was feeling.

"Lance!" My mom's voices echoed down the hallway, breaking the staring match I was having with my reflection. "You're going to be late for school. Let's go!" 

I grabbed my book bag and headed out of my bedroom, toward the kitchen, where my parents were having their morning coffee.

"Good morning, Honey," my mother greeted. "You should get up in time to have breakfast. You're a growing boy, ya know?"

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry. I have to get outside. Billy should be here soon."

"Okay, Hon. Your father and I are leaving in about an hour. We'll be back in a week, okay?" 

I nodded. "Sure. Okay," I said, dryly.

She looked up at me from her coffee. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry we're gone so much."

"No, you're not. You enjoy your work. It's ok, Mom. I'm used to it. I prefer to be alone anyway."

She studied me for a moment. "Okay, Sweetie." She stood up to kiss my cheek. "Be sure to call us if you need anything."

"I will, Mom."

"I love you, Sweetie."

"Love you, too, Mom." I looked at my father, who didn't seem to acknowledge that I was there. "Bye, Dad."

I looked down from the magazine he was reading and nodded, silently. "Bye, Son. I'll see you when we get home."

"Uh huh," was all I could manage. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and muttered another goodbye before going out the door. My father loved me. I know he did. But he was a very hard man; never showed any emotion that I was aware of.

I walked out to the end of the driveway to wait for Billy to pick me up. A few minutes later, I heard the rumble of Billy's mustang just before his car appeared. I was grateful to leave. I hated the days when my parents left for another business trip, which lately had been every other week.

"Hey, Man," I greeted, when I got into Billy's car.

"Good morning, Lance." He looked at me for a moment.

I felt his eyes on me and looked at him. "What?"

"You okay?" he asked me after a moment.

I shrugged and then nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine," I lied. I wasn't fine. But I didn't like to show any weaknesses. I prefer to suffer alone.

He nodded. "You sure?" 

I nodded, silently. 

"Have that nightmare again?" he asked, suddenly. I just looked at him. "Still no idea who the girl is?"

I just shook my head. 

He nodded, again. "Okay."

We pressed on and I was grateful. I didn't want to talk about my problems. Because, in all honesty, I didn't know what my problem was. I had no idea why I was feeling the way I was feeling. It made no sense whatsoever to me so how was I to explain it to anyone?

Billy Cole was one of my four best friends. He lived in the first house at the top of the hill, with my father. That house was huge. I was always fascinated with the size of it. It sat up there, looking down over the valley, as if it were a King's castle, watching over its kingdom.

Billy had dark brown hair, with a hint of gold highlights and cosmic green eyes, which sent most girls reeling. His most prized possession, other than the 1983 Ford Mustang that he worked and slaved to buy, was his guitar. He was a natural talent. He never had any lessons that I'm aware of. His father, Raymond, told me once that music was in his blood. 

Billy had a temper, inherited from his father, no doubt. We knew him well enough not to press those buttons, but other people were not as fortunate. I recall a bully at school once accused Billy if stealing his lunch money. Billy beat him to a pulp and was suspended from school for three days. However, He told me once that the punishment that he got from his father was worse. At the time, I wasn't sure what he meant and I didn't press the issue.

Dalton Cole was Billy's cousin. Their fathers were brothers, but they weren't close at all. He lived in the doublewide trailer, just down the road from Billy's. He lived there with his father, Russell, and his older brother, Sam. 

Dalton's father drove a truck for a local company during the week. He was usually gone all week, but was normally home on the weekends. 

Dalton had always been a much laid-back type of person, and very optimistic. However, when he lost his mother to cancer at age thirteen that seemed to have changed overnight. His personality shifted and he became this person... no one could understand the dramatic change, but I guess it was his way of coping with the loss of his mother. 

However, the loss of his mother is what inspired Dalton to learn to play his father's bass guitar. Dalton says that music is what keeps him from losing it on most days.

A hop, skip, and a jump away was the ranch house where Devon Stone lived with his parents. Devon was not a West Virginian. His family moved here from Texas when we were just starting kindergarten. Even though we were five years old at the time, I will never forget the first day that I saw him. He was the tallest in our class and we were all fascinated by his cowboy boots and hat. 

Devon's parents owned a trucking company out of Texas. When they moved to West Virginia, they agreed to stay on with the company, which meant a lot of traveling back and forth. So that, in addition to his love for music, was one of the things that Devon and I had in common. Devon had a passion for horses and a passion for music. His talents included both the guitar and his keyboard. There have been times when Devon would disappear for a day or two, He would take his horse and his guitar and go into the woods to be alone. He was a songwriter, which he loved to do more than he loved to sing his own songs. This is why he insists on his playing his instruments. 

Ronnie Short was my closest neighbor. He was the youngest of five brothers. His mother was a homemaker, a mother, and a housewife. Ronnie's father worked at the local fruit farm. We always appreciated the free apples. 

Ironically, Ronnie's name suited him perfectly because he only stood about five foot two. But his height never seemed to bother him. It was one of his many charms, he once told me. People have a tendency of underestimating his strength. He's tough for such a little guy.

But the love of his life was the 1971 Blue Dodge Challenger, inherited from his grandfather. 

Ronnie had been in a car accident when he was around ten years old. He almost died and it scared the hell out of all of us. And because of this, he had somewhat of a reckless personality. He rarely took anything serious and was never concerned for his own safety. There were times when I honestly thought he was trying to kill himself. He told me once that life was too short to take too seriously.

Like most of us, Ronnie also had a talent for music, but his talent was louder than ours. His talent was the drums. His father had brought home an old drum set from work one night. And to his mother's dismay, Ronnie taught himself how to play the drums. 

Evidently, the love and talent for music wasn't just in our blood. It was in the mountains, and the trees, and everything that made up our little world. Every little sound could be turned into music. At one time in each of our lives, music was the only stability we had.

The five of us lived only a few houses away from each other. We grew up in this small, in the middle of nowhere town known as Montgomery Town, named after the family that first settled there. Some of the family still lives there today. 

Montgomery Town was a small town. The population was approximately one thousand. It had one general store, where everything was priced higher than normal. There was a fire department, also very small. 

The winter season was always a rough one, with the icy roads and snow, the roads sometimes became hazardous. When spring rolled around, the mud that was left over was almost just as dangerous, but a lot more fun. Summertime, of course, was my favorite season. With no school to interrupt, I was free to write as much as I wanted to. 

However, that, as with the seasons, was about to change. 

Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 02



Arriving in the school parking lot, Billy pulled into his usual parking spot, where Devon, Dalton, and Ronnie were waiting for us. Ronnie greeted us with his usual loud greeting.

"Hey!" he shouted so loud that I was sure the doornails in the cemetery across the street were going to climb out of their graves.

I forced a smile and nodded. "Hey, Ronnie."

His smile faded as he looked at me. "What's wrong?"

I sighed. I couldn't hide it from them. I was never good at hiding my emotions from anyone, but my friends always knew right away when I wasn't my normal self. "Nothing, Ronnie," I responded, in my best honesty voice. 

"Uh huh," he said, unconvinced. "Another nightmare?" 

I rolled my eyes and started away from him, but he grabbed my forearm and turned me back toward him, causing me to wince. My latest cut was still a bit raw. He stared at my face for what seemed like the longest second. Dalton and Devon were there by the time he looked away.

"What's going on?" Devon asked.

"Nothing," I said, firmly and walked away from them as the first bell of the day rang. 

Nobody asked anymore questions and I was relieved. 

It was absolutely excruciating to be at school that day. Even though it was the last day of the year and the hallways and classrooms were buzzing with excitement, I couldn't have cared less whether it was the first day or the last. I just wanted to be anywhere but here. 

I rushed to my locker to get my notebook and pen and then I headed to my homeroom. I sat down at my desk and Billy sat across from me. I rest my head in my hands, feeling exhausted. 

I was staring down at my hands resting on my desk and thinking, for the first time in life, that I could use a drink, preferably something alcoholic, when all of a sudden, I felt a tremendous wave of fear for no reason at all. My heart was pounding, my chest hurt, and it was getting harder to breathe, causing me to gasp for air. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through it, like I had several times before, but it wasn't helping this time.

"Lance?" I heard Billy's voice. I continued to breathe, trying to calm myself down. "Lance, what's wrong?"

Without responding, I got up and left the classroom without asking for permission. I hurried to the nearest restroom, finding it empty, thankfully. Locking myself in one of the stalls, I tried to breathe deep, calming breaths, but it was no use.

"Just breathe," I demanded myself, but I had already made my decision. I reached around to my back pocket and pulled out the pocket knife my father had given me for my birthday last year. I flipped open the blade and, pulling up the sleeve on my sweatshirt, made another slice right below the one from last night, before letting all the air out of my lungs in a whooshing sound.

I felt myself becoming calmer with each second that passed, as I closed the blade on my knife and putting it away. I had released the pressure that I was feeling. 

Just as I was exciting the stall, the bathroom door flew open and Billy entered, pausing when he saw me. I pulled down the sleeve of my sweatshirt quickly and tried to act calm.

"Lance!" he exclaimed. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to convince myself, as well as him. "Yeah," I said again. I'm okay. I just... needed some air."

"You sure?" I just nodded. He stared at me for a moment and then said, "Okay. I'm going to go meet up with Devon. I wanted to talk to him about something. Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded, again. "Yeah. I'm fine. Go ahead. I'll catch up."

"Okay," he said and left the restroom. 

When he was gone, I went to wash my hands. I scrubbed my hands with the cheap hand soap that the school provided. I stared into the mirror as I dried my hands.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked aloud to my reflection, as if it would respond. "Why do you feel like this?" I stared at my reflection for a moment, wishing just for once, that it would answer my questions. Finally, I sighed and gave up. 

I left the restroom, not paying attention to my surroundings and walked into something... or someone. Books fell to the floor. Without looking to see who I bumped into, I knelt to pick up the text books. When I stood up, I looked into the face on Maranda Quinn.

I almost gasped, but I caught myself. Maranda Quinn, formally known as my best friend, was staring into my eyes. At least, she was trying to. I did everything I could to avoid eye contact these days, because my eyes said everything. But I couldn't look away from her. 

Something about her was more familiar, though. It wasn't just that I've known her since preschool, or that we were best friends in elementary school. It was her eyes; they were a deep blue. And her hair hung down her back; it was dark black, like coal. As dark as a rainy night in West Virginia. 

"Lance," she said in her soft voice. 

I just stared at her. She smiled at me, causing my beat heart to speed up. And then it was like being hit by a sledgehammer of déjà vu - very unpleasant, and quite intense sensations of the previous night's dreams accompanied by a weird flushing in my legs.

It was her. The girl in my dream. The one who was chasing me. My breathing quickened again. No, I thought. Stop, I demanded myself, taking quick, deep breaths. 

Her smile faded, and was replaced with a look of concern, as I felt the blood drain from my face. "Lance?" 

"Hi," I managed, in a shaky voice. I took another deep breath and tried again, forcing a smile. "Hi, Maranda." 

"Are you okay?" she asked me.

I grinned. "Everyone keeps asking me that," I said. "But yeah... I'm fine."

She looked into my eyes. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. She knew I was lying. She always knew. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I scoffed. "We haven't spoken since middle school," I pointed out. "Now you want to have a heart to heart? Sorry, but no thanks."

She looked as if I'd slapped her. "I'm sorry. You just... looked like you needed a friend. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to pry." She started away.

A flood of guilt washed over me. "I'm sorry," I said, quickly. And then more calmly, I repeated it. "I'm sorry, Maranda. Bad day. Bad month."

She stopped and turned back to face me. She nodded and smiled, weakly. "It's okay." She looked at me for another moment. "If you decide you want to talk, or just need a distraction, I'll be around," she offered.

I nodded. "Thank you, Maranda."

She flashed that smile again, causing my heart to skip a beat, and I stared at her, afraid to speak. 

"Well," she said, finally. "Raven is waiting for me, so... I should go."

I nodded and forced a smile. "Okay."

"See you around."

"See ya," I replied.

I watched her walk away. She had really grown into something beautiful. Maranda and I met in preschool. We were best friends for the longest time. She hung out with me and the guys most of the time. But for some reason, when we started middle school, all that changed. She made new friends and seemed to forget about me overnight. We stopped talking took our own paths.

I walked to my locker to put my notebook away and then I headed toward the cafeteria. Stopping in the cafeteria door, my eyes scanned the room for my friends. I found them at our usual table. They were conversing with each other, Ronnie was laughing at something that I'm sure only he thought was hysterical. 

I stared at them for a moment. And then, deciding that I didn't want to interrupt, I turned and decided to walk outside for some air. I walked outside and sat down on the steps in front of the building. I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing this day was over. Time seemed to be moving so slow for me. I just didn't want to be here.

"What are you doing out here?" someone demanded from behind me. 

I turned to see the school's guidance counselor, Mr. Lee. "Hi, Mr. Lee. I'm sorry. I just... needed some air," I said.

He looked at me for a moment and then came closer. He sat down on the step beside me. He looked at me for a moment. "You look exhausted. Are you sleeping okay?"

I scoffed. "No," I said. "No. Not really."

He nodded. "Anything you want to talk about?"

I looked at him for a moment. "No. Not yet. It's just... I'm not sure if I understand it. So... I'm not sure how I can talk about it."

He nodded. "I understand."

I just nodded. "Thanks."

"Sure," he said. "Take all the time you need. All of us need a breather sometimes."

"Thanks," I said, again.

He stood up and walked back into the building. A few minutes later, I followed him back into the building and went to the nearest bathroom.

Ricky, a boy that I had known since the 3rd grade, was in there, sneaking a smoke no doubt. He looked up quickly when I walked in and then relaxed when he saw me. "Lance, you scared the hell out of me."

I chuckled. "Sorry," I said and went to splash some water on my face. 

He offered me a smoke, and I realized what he was smoking wasn't a cigarette. "Hit?" he asked.

I looked at it for a moment, considering, but I quickly squashed the urge. I shook my head. "No. Thanks," I said. 

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

I looked in the mirror for a moment. "Actually," I started. "Do you have anything that might... I don't know... relax me?" I asked, hesitantly.

He looked at me for a moment. "Like?"

I shrugged. "Anything." I'm not sure why I asked him. I wasn't the drug-user type. But I felt I needed something... anything that might help.

He looked at me for another moment and then reached into his pocket, pulling out what looked like a prescription bottle from the local pharmacy. He opened the cap and dropped two into his hand. He handed them to me. "Here are two. They're strong so one for now. One for later."

I took the pills and then looked at him. "What are they?"

He grinned. "Effective."

I nodded and swallowed one of them. "Thanks," I said with a sigh. "What do I owe you?"

He shook his head. "This one's on me."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"So what brought this on?" he asked me, curious. "I've never known you to be a druggy."

I laughed. "I'm not. But today..." my voice trailed off. I didn't really know what to say.

He nodded his understanding. "I hear that."

"Thanks," I said. "And if you could just... forget you saw me, that'd be great."

He nodded, understanding. "Forgotten, man. Take care of yourself. I got to run. Look me up if you need anything else." 

After he was gone, I looked into the mirror at my reflection. I felt worse than I looked, thankfully. 

The day was dragging but it was finally last period. I walked into my English class and had to stifle the urge to groan. I had that one class with all my friends. It was also my favorite subject. I sat down at my desk in the back of the room and opened my notebook to the part in my story where I had left off the night before. It was my way of ignoring everything around me. Today especially, I wasn't interested in the drama of my peers.

But I couldn't focus. I really just wanted to put my head down, just for a minute; I would only rest for a minute. I let my eyes flutter shut and felt as my whole world started to spin.

And there I was, running. Running away from that girl. The dark surrounds me. I can hear her calling my name, but I won't turn around, I keep running toward the end. I don't know her name. I've never seen her face before. Her dark hair and pretty, deep blue eyes... they haunted me. In my dream, she is running towards me, begging me to let her explain. But I kept moving forward, running away from her. I was just about to run over the edge of the cliff, but then...

I jolted upright in my seat, stirring the attention of my friends. They all turned to me. 

"Lance?" Billy said. "What the hell?"

"Nothing," I said quickly. "I'm fine."

He sighed and shook his head. He knew I wasn't but he didn't press the issue. 

I was glaring at the clock on the wall. Just move, I urged the second hand. There were exactly thirty seconds till class ended, till the school year was over, till this rotten day was over.

Fifteen seconds. Come on, I urged. 

Riiiiiing!!!

Thank God! I was up and out of my seat so fast, I was sure that people thought I was a lunatic. I continued weaving through the people in the hall with only one thing on my mind: getting the hell out of this building. That's when I crashed into something, or shall I say someone. 



Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 03



Maranda. Again. What was with this girl? 

When she looked up at me, her eyes apologizing, my breath caught and I looked away. "Hi, Maranda," I said, catching myself before another attack hit. "Sorry."

"We need to stop meeting like this," she said with a grin. 

I smiled, weakly. "Yeah," I said, staring longingly at the exit. My throat felt like it was closing up. I needed to get out of this building.

"Actually, I was looking for you," she confessed.

"Really? What for?" I asked, trying to avoid eye contact. Because I knew as soon as our eyes met, she'd know everything.

"Um... I don't know," she stammered. "I was worried."

I looked into her eyes and saw that her worry was genuine. I tried to hide that I cared, but that was useless. "Worried about me?" She just nodded. "How come?"

She shrugged, and looked at her shoes. "I don't know," she said again. "Um... do you want to go somewhere?"

I looked at her for a moment. "Where?"

"Not here," she replied. "Some place quiet."

"Maranda. I, uh..." my voice trailed off. I was desperately searching for an excuse not to go, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of one. I nodded. "Okay."

She smiled, again, looking relieved. "Come on. I want to show you something."

I followed her toward the back door of the school building, where we exited through the back door. Finally outside, I let all the air out of my lungs and took a deep breath. 

Maranda stopped and looked at me. "You okay?"

I looked at her. "Stop asking me that. Please."

She nodded. "Sorry," she said and started to walk toward the tree line behind the school. 

Silently, I followed her past the tree line and into the forest, following a barely visible foot path. A few minutes later, we came to a clearing in the woods, where I saw an old, abandoned cabin. 

"where are we?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"I found this last year. After my grandma died. I wanted... needed to be alone. So I went for a walk and ended up here."

I smiled, remembering what a sweet woman her grandmother had been. "I'm sorry," I told her, "about your grandma. I always liked her."

She nodded. "Thank you. I miss her so much. After my dad died, she was the only person I had to talk to. 

Feeling that pang of guilt again, I looked away for a moment and then back at her. "I'm sorry. I should have been there."

She shook her head. "No. it wasn't your fault. It's just... it is what it is."

I looked at her. "what is it?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "life." We stared for a moment and then she broke eye contact. "Come on," she urged. 

She opened the door to the cabin. The door hinges cracked, sounding like a harsh cry. I almost felt sorry for the old place. When I stepped inside, a strong musty smell hit me in the face.

"I come here almost every day," Maranda said. "I love this old place. It knows all my secrets. Stuff that I can't tell anyone else. I can trust it to keep my secrets."

I smiled, knowing the feelings all too well. "Yeah. People like that are a rare find."

She looked at me for a moment. "It's been my hideout for the longest time. Not even Raven knows it's here. I don't think anyone does. Except you."

"Why would you show me?" I asked her, curious. "We're not close anymore."

She shrugged. "A writer needs a quiet place to write."

Surprised, I smiled. "You remembered?"

"Never forgot," she replied. "I used to love reading your stuff. It always seemed like you knew me."

"I did," I said. "Then."

We exchanged a quick glance and I looked around the room. It looked like it used to be an old hunting cabin. There were two sets of bunk beds, with worn mattresses, and an old wood stove. 

The silence had grown awkward. I looked at her. "Thanks," I said. "For showing me this place."

She nodded. "Of course." She looked at me for a moment and then came toward me. "So... What's wrong? With you, I mean."

I sighed. "Nothing. I'm fine." I turned around and walked out onto the old porch of the cabin. 

She followed me. "You're not fine," she said, placing her hand on my arm. I tried like hell to avoid her eyes. But I couldn't. Her eyes were like a vortex, sucking me in against my will. "Something's wrong," she continued. "I can feel it. I've felt it ever since we bumped into each other today. Please... let me help."

I looked at her. "I... " My voice cracked. "I don't know if you can."

"Let me try," she pleaded.

I sighed and sat down on the step, they groaned with the weight of my body. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to gather the courage to talk. 

Deciding to skip the part about the nasty habit that kept recurring after each nightmare, I said, "It began right after my birthday. That same night actually."

"What did?" she asked her voice soft.

"Dreams. Nightmares," I said. 

"About what?"

"I'm not really sure," I said, trying to avoid details. "But that's not the worse part."

"What is?"

"After the first nightmare, I had this... attack, I guess," I said, searching for the right term. "Panic attack. It scared the hell out of me. I thought I was going to die, Maranda." I took a deep breath. "At first, I didn't think anything of it, but now... seems to happen out of nowhere."

"Like this morning?" she asked, recalling when I bumped into her in the hallway. "I knew it was something. I just couldn't pinpoint it."

"Yeah. Most times I can breathe through them, but sometimes it feels like I'm suffocating."

"And your friends?"

I shook my head. "They don't know."

"How come? I thought you told them everything," she said.

I shrugged. "It's a weakness," I told her. "I just... I don't like to feel vulnerable. So as long as I keep everyone else convinced that I'm fine, I start to believe it, too. Know what I mean?"

She nodded. "I think so," she said. "When my grandma died, I refused to cry in front of anyone. I'd hold it in until I was alone, but when I let the dam break, I couldn't control it. I've cried myself sick."

"I'm sorry you had to face it alone. I wish I'd been there."

She nodded. "Me, too." She smiled, gently. "I've never forgotten you, you know?"

I looked at her. "Me, neither. I've miss you, to be honest."

She nodded. "Me, too." 

She held my gaze, her eyes locked on mine. I tried to look away, but she brought her hand to my chin and turned my face back toward hers. That was when she inched her face closer to mine. I could feel my heart skip a beat and start again, beating faster. When her lips touched mine, I swear I felt a spark, a tiny jolt of electricity. She must have felt it too because she pulled back.

She giggled, nervously. "Sorry," she said, softly.

I shook at my head. "No. It's okay." 

I don't know what got into me, but I cupped her face in-between my hands and brought my lips back to hers. There was no spark this time, but the feeling I had inside my chest was different, new. I wanted to feel more of it. I held the kiss and when she kissed me back, the kiss deepened. I welcomed her touch, the way it made me feel. Like I was invincible.

Thunder rumbled in the sky above us, breaking the spell we were under, causing us to break the kiss. We pulled away from each other at the same time.

I stared into her eyes; my finger caressed her bottom lip. "what is this?" I asked, mainly to myself.

She smiled. "I don't know," she said. "But I'm not questioning it."

There it was. That smile of hers. It calmed me in a way nothing in my life ever has. It was an odd feeling. 

"Thank you," I told her. "Thanks for this."

She nodded. "I'll be here for you. I'm not going anywhere," she promised. 

"Thank you," I repeated. I sighed and checked my cell phone for the time. "Guess I better go meet up with the guys or I'll be walking home."

She smiled and nodded, as we stood up. We walked back to the building in silence. When we reached the front steps of the building, I saw Billy waiting by his car. 

"So," I said, turning to Maranda. "I guess I'll see you around."

She nodded. "Yes. Our number is still the same, at the house. Call if you need anything, okay?"

I nodded. "I will."

We parted ways and I hurried over to Billy. He was irritated. I could tell by the look on his face. 

"Lance!" he exclaimed when he saw me. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I got distracted."

"I can see that," he said, glancing toward Maranda. "Was that Maranda Quinn?"

"Yeah."

"Ya'll talking again?"

I shook my head. "No. Not really."

"Hmm," he said, but left it at that.

I was still trying to make sense of what happened. I was feeling something that I'd never felt before, but I couldn't identify it. 

My parents were gone when I got home, for which I was grateful. My mother had left twenty dollars on the table in case I needed anything. I grabbed something to eat and went to my bedroom to record today's events into my journal, something I've been doing every day since my sixteenth birthday. 

I had thought that writing about what was happening to me would help me figure out what was wrong with me. But so far, no reasonable solution has come out of it. 

But the events from that day were still reeling in my mind. I was trying to make sense of it. I've always been told that's part of my problem. I often overanalyze the simplest situation. 

Feeling exhausted, I kicked off my boots and decided to sleep. Once I got comfortable, it didn't take me long to fall asleep.



Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 04



The dream was different this time. I'm standing in the corner of a small dark room with no windows or any other form of light. Then I am suddenly aware of the fact I am not alone in the room, regardless of the fact I can't see or hear anyone, I'm positive that there's someone, or more unsettling for me, something in this room with me, standing directly opposite me in the other corner of this room. Not speaking, not moving, and just standing watching me, doing nothing. Despite my best efforts to move or speak to verify my fears, I am unable to, so I begin to panic, but for all my effort it worthless, I simply can't move.

My eyes snapped open and I quickly sat up. My heart was racing and I was having difficulty breathing. My shirt was drenched in sweat. My eyes darted around my bedroom, checking all four corners, making sure I was alone. Then I got out of bed and flipped my bedroom light on, just to confirm it. 

I sat down on the bed, closed my eyes, and tried to fight the monster that was clawing at my chest, threatening to steal my breath away. My breathing was coming in tiny gasps.

"Stop," I said aloud to myself. "Stop this."

It wasn't working. I hurried to my desk and picked up my pocket knife. Flipping open the blade, I closed my eyes and let the sharp edge of the scissors glide across my skin. I opened my eyes when I felt the blood dribble down my arm. 

The sight of my own blood was calming, in a weird way. I felt my heart rate slow down, slowing getting back to its normal pace. I closed my eyes again, breathing in and then letting it out slowly.

After a few moments, seeming more like hours, I felt almost normal again. Aside from the slight sting from my newest cut. I went to the bathroom to wash and bandage my cut.

That was when the phone in the kitchen rang. It was probably Billy. I fell asleep. He was probably wondering where I was. I hurried out to the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Devon greeted from the other side. "Are you coming up?"

"Um... Yeah," I said. "Sorry, man, I fell asleep."

"It's okay," he said. "See you soon."

Yeah," I replied. "Bye."

He hung up without replying. I went back to my bedroom and changed into a clean sweatshirt. Then I put my notebook in my backpack, slipped on my boots and then I was out the door. I considered taking my bike, but instead decided to walk, so that I could take my time. 

Last summer, Devon's parents had suggested that we started a band and they agreed to let us use their garage for practice. We all had some sort of musical talents. I was the only one of the four who wasn't interested in being in the band. Sure, I had a decent voice, but I never let on that I could carry a tune. I was a writer, not a singer.

I entered the basement through the outside door, like I normally did. It was empty, but I could hear shuffling coming from the kitchen, so I decided to wait on them. 

The garage walls were lined with the usual garden paraphernalia and I could see that Devon had been working on the lawnmower. The drums took up most of the spare space and the bass had seen better days, patched with duct tape, they looked like a Frankenstein creation.

As I was looking around, the boys strolled in. 

"Oh, hey, Lance," Dalton greeted. As usually he was rocking the emo look, something he picked up after his mother died. "What's up?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No more than usual, Dalton."

Billy looked at me. "It's about time you showed up."

"Yeah," I said. "Sorry. I fell asleep."

"Premeditated nap," Devon suggested.

I grinned at him and looked around the room. "Where's Ronnie?"

Billy shrugged. "I don't know. He said he was on his way. That was thirty minutes ago."

I looked at him. "But it's only a minute walk."

I nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"Probably got distracted. Doesn't take much with him," Devon said with a grin, as he plugged in his keyboard. It was the newest of all the equipment; a birthday gift from his grandparents in Texas. 

"Are you still working on that story?" Dalton asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah. I think this one's going to be the longest one I've written."

"How's that?"

"I don't know. The more I right, the more it seems to write itself. I'm having trouble describing how the girl feels, though."

"That would be a little difficult," Billy spoke up. "Unless you were female."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Well," Dalton said. "I want to read it when it's finished."

I nodded. "Okay."

A second later, Ronnie walked in the door. "Hey, Guys," he greeted. "I'm sorry I'm late. Had to help my mom."

"It's about time," was Billy's response. "Let's get to work."

Ronnie just shot him a look of annoyance and sat down at his drum set.

I took my notebook out of my coat pocket and sat down on the old couch that was in the garage. I wasn't part of the band but my friends always seemed to need an audience so I was always there. 

The music was calming. I was digging the new song that Dalton had written, even though it had a bit of emo-ness to it, seeming to coincide with the mood I was in. 

I decided to fill my journal in on today's events. Maranda was more amazing than I could have imagined. 

After running through the song a second time, Billy called a break. I was still writing when the music ended, but I didn't pay it any mind. I must have had a stupid grin on my face, because I felt eyes on me. I glanced up to see Billy and Dalton staring at me. Nervously, I clutched the sleeve of my sweatshirt, making sure it was pulled down over my scabs. 

My smile faded and I felt myself stiffen. "what?" I asked them.

"What's with the stupid smile?" Dalton asked me.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said. "No smile."

"I bet I know," Billy followed and came toward me. 

"What happened with Maranda today?" he asked, curious.

I looked at him for a moment. "Nothing."

"Maranda Quinn?" Devon asked. I nodded. "Ya'll talking again?"

I shook my head. "No. not really," I said. "she just... wanted to talk." Suddenly feeling awkward, I closed my notebook and stood up. "I need a drink. Ya'll want anything?"

"Uh, yeah," Billy said. "There are some sodas in the fridge."

"Okay," I said and left the garage. 

Dalton's song was still playing in my mind as I entered the kitchen. I began to sing the chorus to myself as I got the drinks out of the refrigerator. 

Bad idea.

When I turned around, Billy was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his mouth in an O shape. "I thought you said you couldn't sing."

"No. I never said that I couldn't," I told him. "I just never said that I could."

He raised his arms in protest. "Why? That sounded amazing."

"I'm a writer, Billy. Not a singer," I reminded him.

"Bullshit," he said, grabbing my arm. 

I flinched. My flesh was still a bit tender from my last slice. Thankfully, he didn't notice. He pulled me back into the garage, where he shoved his microphone at me.

"What's going on?" Dalton asked.

"Did you guys know he could sing?" Billy demanded. 

Dalton raised his eyebrows and exchanged glances with the others, before shrugging. 

"We're going to do the chorus of Fall To Pieces," Billy said to Dalton and then he looked at me. "I want you to sing lead."

My eyes widened. Instant panic. "What?" I almost shouted. "Hell no!"

"Come on, Lance," he pleaded. "You know the words."

"I know, but I am not singing," I said, firmly.

"Don't tell us you're scared," Devon said.

I looked at him. "No, I'm not scared. I just..." I couldn't come up with an excuse. "I'm not scared," I repeated.

"Prove it," Billy challenged. "Sing with us."

"No," I repeated. My heart was racing and I had an urge to run, but my feet wouldn't move. 

"Lance," Billy said, firmly.

I looked at them for a moment. I was about to give it when... Fear. That's what I felt. A tremendous wave of fear rushed over me, for no reason at all. My heart was pounding, my chest hurt, and it was getting harder to breathe, causing me to gasp for air. I felt the blood drain from my face. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through it, like I had several times before, but it wasn't helping this time.

"Are you okay?" Billy asked, clearly concerned.

I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "I'll be right back."

I turned and left the garage, before anyone could ask any questions. I went inside the house, finding the bathroom and locking myself in there, I leaned against the door, trying to catch my breath. 

I pulled up my sleeve and, using my knife, made a swift slice. I had wanted to let some of the other cuts heel, before cutting this area again. But I needed to feel the release. And it was worth it.

Feeling the blood on my arm, I took a few short breaths and felt normal again. I drew in a sharp breath as I studied my work. The cut was a lot deeper than I normally went. Not dangerously deep, but all the same. After running my arm under the faucet, I took some toilet paper and wadded it up under my sleeve to keep the blood from staining my shirt.

Taking a few more deep breaths, I felt calm enough to rejoin my friends in the garage. I took another deep breath and walked back to the garage. Everyone looked at me when I walked in. 

"Lance," Devon said. "What the hell happened?"

"Nothing," I lied. "I just... needed some air," I said.

"You sure?" he asked. "You looked like you saw a ghost."

"No. I mean, yeah," I said. "But I'm fine. Really," I insisted.

He didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Okay."

Billy was still standing with his microphone in his hand. He held it out toward me. It looked like I didn't have much choice, so I took it from him. 

The familiar music began. My heart was racing again, but when I started to sing, I felt myself relax. It was the most calm I had felt in weeks. I felt as if I'd been singing my entire life, when this was the first time I ever sang in front of anyone. When the chorus was done, and the music faded away and all became quiet, it took me a moment to open my eyes. There was another moment of silence.

"Wow," Devon said from behind me.

I turned to face everyone, not really sure what I should expect. 

"Damn, Billy," Dalton said. "He's almost better than you."

At my amazement, Billy nodded his agreement. "almost." He padded me on the back. "Welcome to Level Ground."

My eyes widened. "What? I'm in the band?"

He nodded. "Well, you were always a part of it. But now it's official."

I didn't know what to say, so I just smiled. "Thanks." 



Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 05



The next few days were spent with Billy helping me learn the songs. Most of them were cover songs, favorite songs of ours. But there were a few originals, which Dalton had written. I may have been a good writer when it came to fiction, but Dalton knew how to pinpoint feels in just about anyone he met. One of the few things he and I had in common; we felt things.

Once I felt comfortable with the songs, Billy decided to advertise the band, offering services such as weddings, birthday parties, and school dances. Our first gig was at the teen center. It was built in the 70s, parents raised the money. I guess it was their attempt to keep teenagers out of trouble.

We arrived at the teen center a few minutes before it opened so that we could set up our equipment. I was helping Devon set up his keyboard when Billy tapped my shoulder. 

"Lance, look who's here," he said to me in a low voice.

"Who?" I asked him, without even looking up.

"Maranda," he said and I felt my heart speed up. "Over there," he said and pointed her out.

I looked up and saw her standing by the pool table with her lifelong friend, Raven Jenkins.

"Wow," Devon said, under his breath. "She really filled out, didn't she?"

That day in the old cabin with her hadn't crossed my mind until now. I recalled her scent... sage. She was the only person I knew who wore that fragrance. It was unique to her. 

I couldn't deny that she was beautiful. She was more beautiful than ever. Her thick hair hung down her back, once again making me want to run my fingers through it. 

The outfit she wore left little to the imagination. The black jeans she wore hugged her hip well and she wore a white tank top that had SIN written in big black letters across her breasts, causing my mind to take a turn. I felt my heart speed up as I continued to check her out.

"Lance..." I heard from behind me, but I ignored it. "Lance," Devon said, again. "You're staring."

"I'm not," I said, snapping out of the spell I seemed to be under.

"You were," he said.

I sighed. "Okay. I was. Shut up about it."

"You like her, huh?" he asked.

I looked at him. "Like her? I don't even know her anymore."

"You don't have to know someone to like them, Lance," Billy spoke up.

"I know that," I said. "But I don't."

They exchanged glances and said it unison," "Uh huh."

I rolled my eyes and risked another look in Maranda's direction. She was looking at me, with a small smile on her lips, causing my heart to skip a beat and then it started to pound, causing me to gasp. Suddenly, I was finding it hard to breathe as the panic set in and the stabbing pain in my chest began.

Oh, no. Not you, again, I thought as I silently urged it to back off. It had been over a week since my last attack and I was starting to feel like a normal teenager again. 

Before anyone could notice, I excused myself and ran out the back door of the teen center. I leaned against the building, taking short, deep breaths, urging myself to calm down. 

It had been so long, since I dared. But I had already made my decision. I pulled up the sleeve on my jacket, reached into my back pocket and then, glancing around to be sure I was alone, flipped the blade open and made a swift slice on my right forearm. 

I gasped at the slight sting of the blade, but once I saw the blood run down my arm, I felt my heart slow down, slower and slower until it was back to its normal pace.

After putting my knife away, I took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

I went back inside and found the bathroom and cleaned up my wound. It was bleeding more than it should have, but I assumed it was because I hadn't cut it a while. I wadded up some toilet paper and stuck it in my sleeve. Taking another deep breath, I exited the bathroom and headed back out to join my friends.

Just as I exited the long hallway, I bumped into Maranda. The jolt caused the wad of toilet paper to fall out of my sleeve. 

"What the..." her eyes met with mine for a brief moment, before she bent to pick it up with a look of confusion. I took a step back from her; I had to get out of here. "What the hell, Lance, are you bleeding?"

"I um... must've scratched my arm on something," I fumbled with the lie lamely. 

She looked into my eyes for a moment and then reached out and took my arm. "Let me see," she said, pulling up my sleep. 

She gasped as we both stared at the marred flesh on my arm. There were six, nearly healed cuts, plus the angry one from a few minutes ago. Her eyes shot up to my face and her eyes locked with mine for a moment, looking sad for a moment and then pissed. I shuddered and pulled my sleeve down roughly.

We just stared at each other, neither one of us knowing what to say. 

"Promise you won't tell anyone. Please," I begged.

"Lance," she said, shaking her head, "I can't do that."

I cowered like an eight year old boy who just got caught looking at his father's adult magazines. "Maranda," I pleaded. "Please."

She ran her fingers through her hair and looked at me. "Damn it, Lance." She took my hand into hers. "Come on," she said. "Let's walk."

I glanced over at my friends, who hadn't realized that I was still missing, and then I nodded. "Okay."

We left the Teen Center and walked up the driveway, toward the main road. Across the road from the Teen Center was the elementary school. Maranda and I walked toward the playground. She let go of my hand and sat down on the merry-go-round. She looked at her shoes for a moment, as if trying to think of what to say.

I just stood there, dumbly looking down at her, as if I was waiting for a verdict. The night air was warm, but there was a breeze. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in slowly. I let out the breath I was holding and sat down beside Maranda. 

"Maranda," I began, not really sure what I was going to say."

"I knew you were hiding something," she said. "I just didn't know..."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. I was afraid."

She nodded. "I know," she said. "It's okay. But... I want you to talk to me. No more secrets."

I just stared into her eyes. I started to shake my head, in protest, but she turned toward me, bringing her lips to mine. I felt something when her lips touched mine. I don't know what it was, but I suddenly felt as if I could trust her, with my life, with my secrets, everything. 

I pulled away from her and, looking in her eyes, asked, "Why do you care so much?"

Her smile faded. I looked down at her hands for a moment and then, after a moment's hesitation, pulled up the sleeve on her jacket. I swallowed a gasp and I saw the scars. Her right forearm was covered in what looked like a hundred separate scars. I just stared for a moment, not knowing what to say.

When I looked up and my eyes met her, I saw the pain there. "You?" I asked her. She nodded. "How come?"

She pulled her sleeve back down and then looked at me. "Do you remember the Halloween party last year?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I missed it."

"I didn't," she stated. "It was the first time I ever drank alcohol and my last. There were come college guys there. Raven kept flirting with them," she said with a small laugh. "But... there was this one guy, he seemed interested in me. So of course I flirted and when he offered me a beer, I didn't hesitate."

I nodded. "Got to love peer pressure."

"Yeah. Well, I had a few too many. Raven had disappeared and when he offered to take me home, I just thought he was being generous..." she began to cry.

"Maranda," I said, finally realizing where this was going. "You never told anyone?" 

She shook her head. "I tried to fight him off," she said. "I tried to push him away, but..."

"Shh," I said, putting my arm around her and pulling her toward me. She rested her head on my shoulder and cried softly. 

A few minutes passed and she lifted her head and looked at me. "I had nightmares," she said. "Every night they got worse. I couldn't tell anyone. I was so scared. Then one night, I took a kitchen knife... it was my plan to kill myself, but instead ended up with just a small cut. I wasn't strong enough to do it."

"Thank God for that," I said.

She just smiled. "Yeah. But doing that, it was the only way to make myself feel human again. It went on for months."

"What happened?"

"Raven busted me," she confessed. "I told her everything. She was like my buddy in AA or something. Whenever I felt the need I would go to her."

I just looked at her. I didn't know what to say.

"So," she said. "When you feel the need, call me."

"Maranda..."

"Shh," she said, placing her finger on my lips. She looked into my eyes, smiled. "I love you, Lance," she confessed.

I'm sure I gasped. "What?"

Holding her smile, she nodded. "I love you," she repeated. "I believe I always have. It's okay if you don't love me back. Just know that I love you and I'll be here for you. I just... I don't want you to be alone right now," she said and brought her lips back to mine. 

I brought my hand to her neck, just beneath her hairline, and pulled her close to me, kissing her, deeply. From somewhere inside me, passion took over, making me forget for a moment that we were in a public school playground. My heart was racing, but it wasn't panic. I don't know what it was, but it was like a drug and I wanted more of it.

She pulled away from me, took my hand and stood up. "Come on," she said. 

I stood up and looked at her. "Where are we going?"

She grinned. "Our place."

"Um..." I glanced across the street at the Teen Center, thinking that I should probably get back, but instead I just smiled at her for a moment and then nodded. "Okay."

Hand in hand, we walked the two blocks to the high school. She led me behind the building and to the old abandoned cabin in the woods.



Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 06



My heart was racing, not really sure what was going on or what was going to happen. I felt like a little kid that was doing something that he wasn't supposed to be doing, but ignored the rule anyway. 

Once we got to the cabin, and were inside, Maranda closed the door behind us. She came toward me, lacing her arms around my neck, bringing her lips to mine. As my lips touched hers, I felt a tingle of electricity travel from the top of my neck all the way down to my knees, sending a shiver up my spine. She giggled through our kiss as she felt me shiver. 

Suddenly, our kissing took a turn, and I felt something, it traveled from the pit of my stomach and stopped in my chest, causing my heart to speed up, causing me to kiss her deeper.

I heard her moan. Breaking our kiss, she pulled me toward the old cot that was in the back of the cabin and we sunk down onto it, me over her and I continued the kiss. It went on for what seemed like hours, but was only minutes.

All of a sudden, this feeling came over me, and I wanted her, more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. My lips left hers and traveled down, over her neck. I savored every taste of her, breathing in her scent. Slowly, almost hesitating, my hands moved down, over her stomach, until they reached the hem of her shirt. 

I inhaled sharply, as I felt her hand against my thigh. Our kiss took a turn for passion and our embrace grew. I explored her lips and relished the feel of her teeth against the sensitive tip of my tongue. 

"Lance," she said. The passion in her voice cause a slight squeak in her voice, causing me to smile. "Lance," said again, her voice more clearly. "Please."

I leaned up and looked down at her. "Please, what?" I asked her, softly.

She looked up into my eyes, her question in her eyes. Knowing exactly what she wanted, I kissed her. I kissed her as if I had the experience of a thirty year old man, when in reality; she was the first girl I had ever really kissed. 

I was caught in a trance; her body was my playground. I kissed, licked, nibbled and sucked each inch of her bare skin. My hands glided along her tummy and explored the sensitive parts of her upper arms. She was tossing your head, slowly, from side to side...

I continued to explore every inch of her body as I peeled each layer of clothing from her body. I kissed her silky skin, exploring and exploring until she was as naked as the day she was born. Her skin glowed in the moonlight that peaked through the boarded up windows. 

I don't even remember how it happened, but soon I was fully undressed as well and we were making love for the first time. She hugged me tightly, as our bodies rocked, almost melted into each other.

I felt her body shudder beneath me, convulsing and then, finally, my body shook and it was over. Spent, I fell forward, my body over hers, my breathing as heavy and as fast and hers. For a few seconds, we did nothing else and we didn't say anything. 

I kissed her forehead gently and rose, sliding off of her and laying beside her. She turned and cuddled up to me, looking up at me. I kissed her forehead again. 

"are you okay?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I'm fine."

"are you sure?" I pressed. "I didn't mean to be so..."

"I'm fine," she repeated, quieting me with a kiss.

I breathed deeply and let it out slowly. "Wow," I said. "I'd read about it in books, but I never expected it to feel like this."

She studied me for a moment. "It?"

"Love," I said. "I'm pretty sure that I'm in love with you."

She smiled so widely that it showed in her eyes. She kissed me again. "I love you, too. So much."

We lay there, on the old cot, in silence, not wanting this moment to end. Nearly an hour passed without either one of us saying a word. That was when I noticed her steady and breathing and looked down to see that she was asleep. 

I grinned, in spite of myself, and continued to listen to the noises of the night. And soon, I too dozed off.

The sunlight coming through the window woke me up. I opened my eyes and gently started blinking. I slowly looked around the room, forgetting where I was for a moment, and looked down into my arms. I couldn't believe it. Last night was real. I was sure I had dreamt the whole thing.

But here she is. Maranda had her arms around my waist and her head on my chest. My arms were wrapped around her as if I were protecting her. I kissed her forehead and smiled down at her. I played with her hair for a while and she twitched and smiled a little falling back asleep. 

I looked up at the ceiling and took it all in. I never wanted to let her go. I took a deep breath, which made my chest rise up. Nicole obviously felt that and she woke up. Her head was still lying on my chest when she looked at me. She smiled. Oh, that smile. It made my heart beat faster. Since her head was where my heart is, she could hear it. She smiled again as I blushed.

Maranda put her hand over my heart and looked up at me and said, "I love you, Lance." 

"I love you too, Maranda." 

She decided to shift her body onto mine. She put her arms on my chest as I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close to me. She started playing with my hair as she smiled down at me. The sun was shining through her beautiful hair. Her eyes were like mirrors reflecting the light back at me, while they glistened, getting me lost in those big blue eyes. She gently kissed my cheek. 

"You missed" I said. 

She just smiled and kissed me gently on the lips. I pulled away but she obviously wanted more. She crashed our lips together making it a long sweet kiss. I licked her bottom lip so she would let me in. She opened her mouth but first I gently bit her bottom lip. After our tongues explored each other's mouths, we both felt those fireworks that always gave us goose bumps. 

Then she pulled away and began to dress. I just lay there, smiling. She was amazing. She was perfect for me. I honestly loved her so much. 

After she was dressed, she looked at me, our eyes locking for a moment. "Everything's going to change now, you know," she told her.

I nodded. "I know," I said, placing my hand on the back of her neck and pulled her lips down to mine, kissing her gently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, with a smile. 

I rose and began to dress. She watched me, as if trying to memorize my every move. After I was dressed, we left the cabin and walked to her house, which was only a few blocks away. Once we reached her front porch, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Billy's phone number. It rang and rang and then went to voicemail. I hung the phone up. I was early so he might have still been asleep. 

I dialed Ronnie's number next. After three rings, he picked up. "Hello?" he said his voice groggy.

"Hey," I greeted. "Ronnie, it's Lance."

"Lance?" he said. "Where are you? What happened to you last night? Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'm sorry about that. I'll explain later. Can you come pick me up?"

"Yeah," replied. "Where are you?"

"Maranda's," I replied. 

There was a slight pause. "I'm not even going to ask," he said. "Give me a half an hour."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Sure," he said and hung up. 

I turned around and looked at Maranda. She was sitting on the porch steps, looking at me. I smiled and sat down beside her. "Are you okay?" I asked her. 

She nodded. "My mom is home," she said. "I don't want to go inside yet. Hard to tell who she brought home this time. I hate her boyfriends."

I just nodded my head in silence. We sat in silence for a few minutes and then I heard the roar of Ronnie's car coming up the road. He pulled up along the curb and stopped. 

I turned to Maranda and kissed her. "Call my cell if you need anything, okay?"

She nodded. "Same goes to you," she said, looking into my eyes.

I nodded. "I will. I promise."

"Okay."

"I love you, Maranda," I said, my voice low.

She smiled. "Love you, too."

Hesitantly, I stood up and got into Ronnie's car. Ronnie waved a hello at Maranda before we pulled away from the curb. We rode in silence for a few minutes. 

"Were you with her all night?" Ronnie asked me, finally. 

I looked at him and nodded. "Yeah."

"Billy is pissed, ya know," he said. "You ditched us."

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't plan it. It just sort of happened."

He looked at me for a moment. "You stink like sex."

I looked at him and felt myself blush. "What?"

He chuckled. "You stink like sex. First time, right?" I just nodded, feeling a little awkward. "Good," he said. "It's about time."



Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 07



The next morning I was awoken by a loud banging on the front door. 

"Alright I'm coming, I'm coming," I called groggily before stomping down the hallway. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hit me in the face and I was tempted to ignore whoever it was that was so rudely banging on my door. 

But instead, I fumbled with the lock on the door and finally got it open, only to see my friends standing on my porch. "It's seven in the morning. What are you guys doing here?" I moaned, obviously annoyed at being woken so early.

Billy just stared at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. "You ditch us Saturday night and then again last night. What gives?"

I sighed and opened the door. "Come in," I said. "At least let me get some coffee before you start yelling at me."

They followed me into the kitchen, where I fixed myself a cup of coffee. 

"Help yourselves to some coffee," I told them, sitting down at the kitchen table. I took a sip of the coffee, letting it's warmth warm my blood, and then I rested my head in my hands for a moment. My head was hurting, due to last night's lack of sleep.

"What's that?" I heard Dalton asked. 

I looked up and saw him looking at my arm. I started to panic, remembering that I was wearing a t-shirt. I put my arms down, quickly, before anyone else saw what he say. "Nothing," I said, warning him with my eyes not to say anything.

There were concern in his eyes, but he didn't say anything.

"You look like hell," Ronnie stated.

"Yeah," I said. "Rough night."

"Another nightmare?" Devon asked me.

I looked at him for a moment and nodded. 

Billy sat down at the table, across from me. "So?" he asked.

I looked at him for a moment. "So, what?"

"What happened?" he asked, obviously getting impatient. "Saturday, I mean. I thought you were ready."

I looked at him for a moment. "I was," I said. "I mean, I thought I was. I don't know. I panicked, so I went outside for some air. Then I ran into Maranda. One thing led to another and then..." my voice trailed off. "Last night I fell asleep. I'm sorry. I know I'm not getting off to the best start with the band." 

"You couldn't call?" he asked. 

I suppose I could have," I said. "but I wasn't exactly thinking about a phone call, Billy." I took another drink of my coffee. "I'm going through something right now. Maranda helped me. A lot," I added. 

He scoffed "I'll bet."

I glared at him for a moment. "You have no idea what she's done for me, do you?" I asked him, my voice firm.

"I have an idea," he said.

"No," I said, getting angry. "You don't." My heart was beginning to pound and I could feel the panic building up. I put my coffee down and closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.

"Lance?" I heard Devon say. "You okay?"

I didn't respond. Instead I got up and went outside on the front porch. I leaned on the railing, breathing in the fresh air. I few seconds later, I heard footsteps behind me and turned to face my friends, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my scars. 

"What is wrong with you?" Billy demanded. "And don't tell me nothing."

"since when do you hide stuff from us?" Dalton followed.

"Since I know there's nothing you can do to help," I replied, my voice shaking. "Why bother you with my problems when there's nothing that can be done?"

"We're your friends, Lance," Devon reminded me. "Hell, we're family."

"I know, Devon. I'm sorry. I just..." my voice trailed off again, not knowing what to say. 

I turned and sat down on the porch swing, wishing they would leave. I didn't want them to know I had a weakness. I didn't want anyone to know. 

"We're not going anywhere," Dalton said, reading my mind. He sat down in the lawn chair across from me. "So spill."

I glanced at the others and then looked at him for a moment, and then, slowly, I held out my arm, revealing my scars. Billy, Devon, & Ronnie moved closer, staring in disbelief.

"Lance," Billy gasped. "What the hell?"

"Cutting?" Dalton asked, surprising me by knowing what it was. My silence was my answer. 

"Why?" Billy asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know," I replied, suddenly feeling ashamed of my nasty habit. "The nightmares... They did something to me. The nightmares themselves didn't seem that bad, but waking up, I was terrified, out of breath, feeling like I was having a heart attack."

"Why didn't you tell us this?" Ronnie demanded, clearly angry at me.

I shrugged. "I don't know," I told him. "It's a weakness. The day I'd first cut myself, a switch in my head had been flicked. Instead of feeling horror, I felt nothing. I became addicted to it. It was the only way to release the pressure that was feeling."

"Damn it, Lance," Billy growled. 

"Look," I said. "I'm sorry, but at first, I didn't think there was anything wrong with what I was doing. It felt normal to me."

"Are you stupid?" Ronnie demanded. "How could you possibly think that self mutilation is normal?"

"I'm sorry," I said again, "But I felt I had to deal with this on my own."

"So what does Maranda say about all this?" Dalton asked, curious.

"She busted me. Saturday, at the Teen Center. She made me walk with her. She's very persuasive; made me tell her everything. I had another nightmare last night."

"Same one?" Devon asked.

I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "But... I think the girl in my dream is Maranda."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

I nodded again. "Her eyes... They are the same as the girl's in the dream. But I'm not sure it's her."

"Hmmm."

"Maranda told me that whenever I felt the need to... to cut," I said, my voice hesitating. "She told me to call her. She'd help me. Last night I remembered what she told me and just remembering that, I was able to breathe through it, without hurting myself."

"Good," Dalton said. "I've heard about cutting, but I've never known anyone to do it."

"First time for everything," I said, with a chuckle. "I just wish I knew why I was having these dreams. I keep feeling like they're trying to tell me something, to warn me."

"Warn you?" Billy said. "About what?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, Billy."

We heard a car pulling into the driveway and I looked up to see my parent's Cadillac. With all the events that happened over the weekend, Monday arrived quickly.

I looked at my friends, pleading with my eyes not to say anything to my parents. I hurried inside and put on my hoodie and then went back outside to greet my parents. 

When I saw it was only my father, I felt my blood turn to ice. Something was wrong. I walked down the sidewalk to meet my father. 

"Dad?" I said, hesitating a bit. "Where's Mom?"

He looked at me for a moment. "She's gone, Son," he said, his voice firm and emotionless. 

My heart stopped. "Gone?"

He nodded and closed the car door and came toward me. "You should sit down," he said, motioning for the porch.

"I don't want to sit down," I snapped. "Tell me now."

"She's dead. The doctors at the hospital said it was a stroke."

I gasped, as if trying to bring air to my lungs, but none came. Tears burned my eyes and my heart was pounding so loud that I couldn't hear anything but the hammering. 

"Where is she?" I demanded.

"Tennessee," he replied. "I have to get a few things and then I've got to head back to make arrangements to have the body sent home."

"The body!?" I exclaimed. "Is that all she is to you? A body?"

"No, Lance," he said. "Of course not. I was just saying..." 

I help my hand up to shut him up. I was either angry or upset. I couldn't differentiate between the two. My friends were at my side, watching me, unsure of what to do. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't focus. My vision was suddenly blurry, from my own tears. I was gasping for air and then the world around me faded into darkness.



Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 08



My eyes fluttered open slowly; the room was blurry for a moment, and as my vision focused I could make out the wooden panels of my bedroom walls. I blinked a moment before realizing where I was. 

Staring up at my cracked ceiling, memories slowly flooded back into my mind and I felt tears spring to my eyes. It wasn't right. I gritted my teeth and felt a hot surge of anger. It wasn't right! How could she be dead? She was perfectly fine when they left on Friday. How is this even possible? 

Maybe my parents fought. She got upset... 

I shook the thought from my mind and sat up, looking around my bedroom, as I had done a million times, but something was different. My once normal, bright life had turned dull. It felt as if I was stuck in an old black and white film and there was no way out.

I glanced back at my bed, remembering I had just woken up. Maybe I dreamt it, I thought. Maybe she wasn't dead at all. It was just another nightmare, I concluded. 

But my theory was proved wrong when I walked into the kitchen to see my father sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the glass in his hand. 

Then I saw the bottle of bourbon on the table. It surprised me; I had never seen him drink anything stronger than wine. 

"Do you really think that's going to help?" I asked my father, suddenly angry at him for handling mom's death this way.

He looked up from the glass and stared at me for a moment. "No," he said, "Probably not."

I sat down at the table across from him. "What happened?" I asked him. "She was perfect when she left."

"Apparently, she wasn't, Lance," he said. He took a drink of his whiskey and looked at me again. "Look, Lance... I'm sorry for dumping it on you like that. I should have been more sensitive."

I shook my head. "No... It's okay. I mean, I asked for it."

"We went dancing," my father said, staring at his glass. 

I looked at him for a moment. "Dancing? You dance?"

He chuckled. "Yes. We used to, your mom and I. It was something we did every weekend. But when the work load got too heavy we had to stop." 

I was staring at the floor, afraid to speak, to move. 

"We were in Nashville," he went on. "I talked her into going out with me. We were having such a wonderful time. She seemed happy. I didn't even know that anything was wrong until she collapsed on the floor. She died before I got her to the hospital. I shouldn't have taken her out." He took a staggering breath, looking at me. "I know this is horrible. This happening was my worst fear... that she would be the first of us to go. Now it's happened. We have to accept it and move on, Lance. She wouldn't want us to mourn her."

I was angry again. "That might be easy for you," I said. "For someone who has no feelings, shows no emotions."

"Lance..."

"No," I said, cutting him off. My heart was racing; mixed emotions were racing through me. I could cut. I could cry. I could scream. I could... I couldn't catch my breath. I excused myself and went to my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I was pacing back and forth, my mind spinning in circles. 

This couldn't be happening. My eyes burned and my heart was racing so fast, I was sure it was on fire. The burning in my chest told me that it was true, making me wish I could have torn it out of my chest.

Suddenly, at that very moment, I needed my friends. I needed Maranda. Where the hell were they? 

But out of all the people in the world, I needed my mother. For the first time in my life, I needed my mother. I didn't think I would ever need her as much as I did at that moment. But that wasn't possible. She wasn't here; she would never be here again.

Suddenly, I found myself reaching for my pocket knife. It wasn't in my pocket and I felt myself panic. I'm sure I looked like a madman, running around my bedroom searching for that damn knife. But it was nowhere that I looked. 

I was panting, my breath coming in small, short gasps. Leaning against my closet door, I slid down to the floor and sat there, hugging my knees. I felt like I was slipping into a black hole that I couldn't get out of. I felt lost, hopeless, like there was no way out. 

I closed my eyes so tight that it hurt. "Mom..." I began my voice a whisper. "If you can hear me and if there really is a Heaven... Please," I pleaded, not really sure what I was asking for. "Mom... Please..." 

Suddenly there was a knock on my door, causing me to jump. "What?" I snapped.

"Lance?" a voice said from the other side. It was my father. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving," he said. 

I got up and opened my door. "What?" 

"I've got to get back to Tennessee," he explained. "I've got things to do. I'd rather stay busy."

I just nodded.

"Do you want to come with me?" he offered.

I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a car with my father. "No," I said. 

"Okay," he said. "Call my cell if you need anything, okay?"

I nodded again. A few minutes later, I heard it car leave the driveway. I was grateful, to be honest. I didn't want to be alone, but I didn't want my father hovering over me. 

After a few minutes of standing in my bedroom doorway, motionless, I made my way out to the kitchen. 

I was like a man possessed. I remember pulling out the silverware drawer. I remember pulling out the knife my mother used to cut vegetables when she cooked.

Slowly, knife in hand, I walked back into my bedroom. I sat on the floor and leaned against my closet door, something I had done since childhood. I was always afraid of what was hiding in the dark and I thought leaning against the door would keep them from escaping.

Slowly, I stretched my left arm out straight. With the knife, I traced the scars of my old wounds. I didn't feel the quick slits. I only felt the delicious pain that came with them. After the blood came, I sat there limp, my arm dangling off to the side and my hand lightly grasping the knife. I slowed my breathing and lowered my eye lids as I felt the warm liquid coat my arm.

I rolled my eyes over to stare in amazement at the blood; the thick, crimson liquid surrounding my hand. With every breath I took, the blood spill grew, leaving me with a calming sensation that I welcomed. 

Finally my breathing steadied and my eyes closed completely as I slipped into sweet dark bliss. I loved that oblivion.

"What are you doing, Lance?"

My eyes snapped open and standing in front of me, was a transparent image, of my mother. I chuckled, weakly. "Oh, I get it," I said. "I'm dead."

"No," responded the image. "Not yet. You can't do this, Lance. Your father needs you."

"Needs me?" I repeated. "He doesn't need me. He doesn't need anyone."

The image faded, leaving me confused. Was she real or was it my imagination? I shrugged it off and closed my eyes, again.

I'm not sure how long I sat there. I was beginning to doze off when I was jolted awake by the slamming of the screen door and footsteps that became louder and louder.



Level Ground Bk. 01 Ch. 09



My eyes fluttered open. I was in a room that I didn't recognize. It was dark and I remember feeling cold. There were three doors in front of me, each with a number on it. In front of the doors, it looked like a man, with a long scraggly body, long white hands with sharp nails and a red face with pointy teeth. He looked more like a demon or something straight out of Hell. 

I decided to go through one of the doors, the one labeled #1. Beyond the door was a beautiful room, full of flowers. And there, in a bed, lie my mother, more beautiful than ever. There was a white blanket covering her. She looked so peaceful. The window across from her was open and the sun was pouring in like a waterfall of gold and engulfing her. 

I heard the man laughing at me and I turned toward him. He was pointing back at my mother. I turned again to see that my mother was now just a rotting corpse lying on a bed of dusty cobwebs. 

Inching closer to the bed, I couldn't pull my eyes away from the rotting corpse. That was when my mother's eyes snapped open and she grabbed my wrist, twisting it and twisting it until...

My eyes snapped open and I awoke in my room with a jolt of terror. I looked around the room and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Trying to calm myself down, I felt that surge of panic begin to overtake me once again, sending a chill up my spine.

The chill intensified and the numbness came, the voice in the back of my mind awake yet again and sang its poison to me.

"Go ahead. Take it, take the pain out, you know you want it. Give in, run and let it go, you're worthless, a nothing."

"No," I responded. "Stop it."

"Do it," the voice continued. "Go and let it run, let it run... DO IT!!"

It continued screaming at me, my head spun with it as my body felt numb, I couldn't take it. I closed my eyes and slowly counted backward from ten.

"Ten... nine... eight..."

"Lance?" someone said.

I ignored it and continued. "Seven... six... five..."

"Lance," came the voice again, more firm.

"Four... three... two..."

"Lance!" I felt hands on my shoulder and then a gentle shake.

"One." 

My eyes snapped open and I saw Billy and Dalton standing in front of me. I tried to speak but nothing came out.

"Lance," came Maranda's voice. "Breathe, Lance."

"Maranda?" I squeaked.

She sat down on the bed beside me and turned my face toward her. "Look at me," she said "Focus on me."

I stared into her eyes, and the memories of my night with her came flooding back, pushing the voice back into its box. After a few minutes, I felt normal again. 

But the fear was still there. I didn't understand what was happening to me.

"Maranda," I said my voice normal. "What's wrong with me?"

"Shh," she said, pulling me to her. "It's alright. You're going to be fine. We're going to help you through this."

She put her arms around my neck and I hugged her waist, welcoming her embrace, hugging her tight. 

After a moment, I pulled away from her and looked at my bandaged arm. I glanced at Billy and Dalton and then back to Maranda. 

"What happened?"

They exchanged glances.

"You don't remember?" Dalton asked me. "You near bled to death."

I stared at him. "What?"

"And you're damn lucky I don't kick your ass right now," came Ronnie's voice just before he appeared in the doorway. 

"Come on," Maranda said, taking my hand and standing up. "Let's go outside. You could use some air."

I nodded. "Okay."

At some point the world around me has exploded into a vibrant green of leaves on the trees. I'm not sure exactly when summer landed, but somewhere during my chaotic past few weeks it hit the yard in full force. Stepping out onto the front porch, I took a deep breath and held it for a moment before breathing out again. 

My friends were watching me closely, as if they were waiting for another breakdown. I turned and sat down on the porch swing, just as Maranda came outside and handed me a cup of coffee.

Somehow I managed to flash a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she responded and kissed me. 

I took a sip of my coffee, closing my eyes and savoring the taste of it as it warmed my insides. All four of my friends were on the porch by the time I opened my eyes. Maranda was there beside me and I couldn't help but think how lucky I was to have people who cared enough about me to put up with my shit. 

I was staring at my bandaged arm. "I don't know what happened," I said aloud, not really directed at anyone. "I've never gone this far before. I've always been able to stop before... before going to deep. Once I started, it was like I couldn't stop."

Dalton looked at me. "Lance, um, maybe... maybe you should get some help. Talk to someone."

"Therapy?" I shook my head. "No way," I said, remembering the time my mother took anxiety medication. She became worse, so disoriented that she couldn't function. "What can they do? Besides put me on medication that'll make things worse."

"I know," Dalton said. "But you can't deal with this alone."

"I know," I responded. "But I'm not alone."

"You're right," Ronnie spoke up. "You're not alone. You're never going to be alone again. We're going to be watching you like a hawk."

"No, I don't need a babysitter," I insisted.

"I'm sorry, Lance, but after today, I think you do," Billy told me. "If Dalton hadn't found you, we'd probably be burying you right now."

I knew he was right. 

I felt myself gasp, thinking about the possibility. I couldn't help but wonder how everyone would feel if I were dead. The possibility of me dying sent my heart racing. I'm not sure if it was panic or excitement. My eyes darted around, looking for something to focus on. 

Knowing that I wasn't alone I had to fight it. I closed my eyes, taking short, quick breaths, pushing back the need to cut. 

"Lance?" I heard Dalton say, concern in his voice.

When I didn't respond, I felt a gentle squeeze on my hand and looked at Maranda. Her eyes spoke to me, telling me to focus. I stared back into her eyes, staring at the calm shade of blue that her eyes were. 

West Virginia Blue was how Devon described her eyes. He said that the skies in West Virginia were this grayish blue; something he thought had been caused by the coal mines. I had never noticed it before. I guess it was because I had grown up in West Virginia and I never paid much attention to the sky.

Maranda's eyes were the same shade of blue as the sky. Images from my nightmare formed in my mind, but I quickly chased them away, knowing that it would only make things worse. After a few minutes, my breathing was back to normal and I was able to pull my eyes away from Maranda.

"I'm sorry," I said to everyone. "I don't know what happens. They just seem to come out of nowhere."

"And this started when those dreams began?" Devon asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"And every time this happens you feel the need to cut yourself?" Dalton followed, trying to understand.

I nodded, again. "Yeah." I glanced at Maranda and then back at him. "It seemed to be the only way to release the... the pressure. When I felt the pain, I was able to pull my mind away from the nightmare and focus on the pain. It doesn't make any sense, but it was calming."

"It makes perfect sense, Lance," Maranda told me. She looked at me for a moment and then looked at my friends. "I went through something similar last year," she explained. "I was alone through most of mine, until a friend busted me. Raven helped me to get past it. I know how hard it is and how addictive it is, Lance. I know it's going to take some time, but we can help you, if you let us."

"Raven, huh?" Dalton said. "She's cool like that."

Something in his voice made me look at him. His eyes were staring at nothing and I could tell he was thinking about Raven. "When did this happen?" I asked him.

Snapping back to reality, he looked at me. "What?"

"You like her?" I asked him. "Raven, I mean."

He shrugged. "I don't know what you mean."

I just nodded. "Sure you don't."

He just looked at me for a moment and then changed the subject. "Anyway, I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "I know what you're going through."

I had almost forgotten that his mother was dead. "Maybe."

He nodded. "Yeah, I do know," he said. "You're pissed. You're hurt. You feel abandoned."

I looked at him for a moment and nodded. "Yeah. I've been so angry with her."

He nodded. "I know I was young when my mother died. I don't remember a whole lot about the funeral, but I do remember how confused and angry I was. I pissed at her for leaving me with a father who works more than any man should, just to avoid me and Sam." 

"You really think that's why he's gone so much?" Billy asked him.

He nodded. "He's never came out and said it, but whenever he looks at me, I just want to disappear. I don't know. It's like he blames me for mom dying."

"How can it be your fault?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's just the feeling I get whenever he's home. Makes me even more grateful when he leaves again."

"You never told me any of that," Billy said.

Dalton shrugged again. "There wasn't anything to tell. Besides ya'll got your own problems. You don't need mine, too."

"When are ya'll going to get it through you heads?" Ronnie demanded. "We've been friends since preschool. That makes us family. Families share everything, problems included. Stop this feeling like you got to handle everything alone bullshit."

I couldn't help but laugh. Ronnie always had a way with words. I looked at Maranda, who had a smile on her face. "What?" I said.

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just nice to see you smile."

I nodded. "It has been a while."

We were quiet for a moment. "I don't want to think about my mom and be sad," I said. "I want to think about her and be happy."

"So," Maranda said. "Whenever you think about her, remember how much she loved you. Remember all the good things about her. I don't have many good memories about my father, but when I think of my Grandmother, good memories are all I have left of her. So I focus on that."

I nodded and looked at her. I put my hand on the back of her neck, underneath her air, and pulled her to me, kissing her. "Thank you."

She nodded. "You're welcome."