Six men trudged through the deserted streets of an abandoned Afghani village. A hot, dry desert wind blew intermittently, occasionally catching a tassel or an untucked corner of someone's shemagh and battering it about.This was just a routine reconnaissance mission. The bombed-out, deserted village had previously been occupied by the Taliban until an intense conflict had driven civilians from their homes and eventually left the town largely uninhabitable. No activity had been sighted here for months, but this small unit of soldiers had been deployed to examine the ghost town more thoroughly."Well, would you look at that, boys," said one of the soldiers who sported a cocky grin. "A whole lotta nothin'. Looks like the Chairborne Rangers have sent us on a fool's errand yet again.""Just because intelligence hasn't reported any activity out here, that doesn't mean there's nothing to find. Stay alert, Thompson.""Look around! There's NOTHING here."The soldier

Ana   "Poor little girl."The man with the gun sneers at me. I try to run, but my legs won't move."You were too scared to save your family when they were still alive. Now they're dead and you're still too afraid. You can't even get justice for them. Poor, scared, little girl."He raises the gun and points it at my head."At first I was worried when I heard there was a witness. But now I see that I'll get no trouble from you. You're just a sad, scared little mouse. Pathetic."The gun fires.I wake up in a cold sweat. I cry quietly, not wanting to disturb Ryan again. Casper rolls over in his sleep.The man in the dream was right. It's my fault he's not in prison. All I want is to hide out in this cabin forever, but if I do that, the people responsible for my family's deaths will never pay. They could do this again. Kill some other girl's family. Make another me. The thought makes me physically sick. I k

Ana   I creep out of the bedroom quietly. Ryan's still asleep, but I had a dream about waffles last night and I have the power to make those dreams come true. I open the cabinet and reach for the waffle iron up on the top shelf. Ryan must have been the one to put it away last, because it's just barely out of my reach. I stand up on tippy-toes, my fingers grasping for the handle on the end. My finger brushes it. So close! I close my eyes in concentration.Suddenly I intuitively know that someone is standing right behind me. I'm not sure exactly how I know that. Maybe I felt his body heat in the close proximity, or I felt the soft stirring of his breath on my cheek, or perhaps I heard him moving behind me. All I know is, Ryan is standing very, very close to me now.I open my eyes and see his hand brush mine as he reaches for the waffle iron, easily grabbing it and bringing it down for me. A sense of deja-vu settles over me, like

Ana    I look up at the overcast sky and feel a chill sinking into my bones as a cold wind blows through the clearing. What a perfect day to be outside , I think sarcastically, frowning as I pull my hat down to cover my ears."What happened? A week ago, it was perfect. Now it's like the North Pole has declared war."Ryan pauses, resting his shovel on the ground and turning to look at me with an expression of incredulity."You think this is bad? It's above freezing right now. This is nothing. Wait until it's 20 below as a daytime high. Then you can complain."I gape at him in horror."Twenty degrees below zero? Fahrenheit?""In January, this area spent over two weeks below zero. Got as cold as thirty-five below last winter."I look around at the wildlife surrounding the cabin. "How is anything still alive here? How is this not an Arctic wasteland?""The inhabitants have learned to adap

Ana   "He's not dead, you fool!"I nearly shout at the book in my hands. Casper looks up at me from his spot near my feet. The female protagonist has given up hope that her love has survived a plane crash, despite the fact that he's very, very alive and trying to find her. In my frustration, I look up from the book and out the window. It's getting dark outside. Drawn out of the story and back into real life, the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach returns.I've spent the day alternating between berating myself for not speaking up last night and trying to read to keep my mind off what happened. I should have said something. I should have told him! But I was just so blindsided by the realization that he doesn't hate me, that his actions were born out of a heightened sense of self-defense instead of general disgust for me. He'd been avoiding me for so long that I thought he was mad at me, not... whatever this is.I waited