Skye Yaga

There’s a loud screeching sound that wakes me up. I get up groaning, what a wonderful way to wake up. The world’s a little blurry so I reach up to rub my eyes, after doing so, I see a dark figure darkening the entrance. He looks down on me with a disapproving face, “You’ve been proven not guilty, you’re free to go.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, I’m free? After so long of being tortured by my fellow cellmates, seeing things I never thought I would have to see, I’m free? I leave my cell receiving my belongings on my way out and I change out of my orange jumpsuit into my white shirt and jeans. My oh my, I really have grown. My muscles are bulging out of my shirt and the jeans are a tad bit short on me. These clothes once fit a scrawny teenage boy. Look at me now, a late teen. I walk out of the prison feeling like a new person. But then I come to a halt, I have no one, no one to welcome me home with open arms, no one to love because they don’t love me now. 

It’s the first day being out of prison and I get out of my motel bed to get ready for a wander around this small town. This small town is the place where I grew up, so I’m looking forward to catching up with my old friends, see what they’ve done with their life since they already know what I’ve been doing. 

The long footpaths stretch out on the sides of stores that sell all sorts of things. I feel people’s eyes burning into me, I can’t help but blush because how could I forget? It’s a small town, news travels quickly. A group of girls walk past me whispering my name and story too loudly for my liking. Suddenly, I wish I was back in prison because at least no one cares what you’ve been put in for and if they didn’t like you, they’d say it through punches and poisonous words- not behind your back. I step into the grocery store and I wish I didn’t. 

I’ve been thrown into prison for a crime I didn’t commit. But no one knows that. 

I look around nervously to see every single person in this store glaring at me. The air in the room changes, I smell his cologne, the same guy who killed my best friend. My head snaps to look at this guy right into his piercing cold eyes. Killer eyes. The memories come back to me like my breath, the breath I’ve been holding for the past minute since I set foot in this store. Blood. There’s blood everywhere, there’s screaming that abruptly came to a stop. Red smudges and splatters on the wall. Everything broken on the ground. Two bodies in the living room, one standing over the other that’s laying still on the ground. I still remember that huge evil smile he had on his face, no one would smile over something like that unless they were crazy. Then he thrusted the gun in my hands while wiping his bloody hands on my shirt and fled the scene. No words were spoken. I couldn’t process this fast enough, it was like my brain just dropped dead, like my best friend. I realised what had just happened and I stood there emotionless because I knew what was going to happen next. As if right on cue, red and blue lights reflect on the windows surrounding the entire front of the house, I had no escape. The cops saw the supposed murderer and did not investigate further into this crime, they thought they had their guy. I was thrown into prison but that’s a whole ‘nother story. 

This guy was a free man, the murderer and no one but me knows that. No one believed me for 5 years until recently new information resurfaced showing that it couldn’t have been me who killed my best friend. But no evidence shows that it’s this, this insane man. I so badly want to put my hands around his throat and throttle him, but, I know better. 

I look at her lifeless limp body laying in her own pool of blood. My eyes swivel to the red liquid painted on my hands. I look towards the knife now coated in crimson. I can’t help but allow some tears to slip down my cheeks and like a waterfall, it falls to the ground. How could I be so passionate about her, yet kill her? I walk towards the mirror placed ever-so-carefully in the middle of her kitchen and look at my reflection with a newfound hatred. Just look at him! Looks so innocent, yet did something so cruel and gruesome! I wipe away my tears furiously and snarl at myself. But then, yet again, I can’t help but laugh. All this because of some stupid woman who wanted to break up with me? After everything that we’ve been through? What about what we had? Was that not important to her anymore? My head begins to ache as the memories of a few minutes ago come flooding back in. 

“I can’t do this anymore! I’m in love with someone else,” She said, pushing me away as I was leaning in towards her. 

I turned to look at her angrily, “What do you mean you’re in love with someone else?”

“I mean, I’m in love with someone else and not you,” She replied.

I scowled as I reached out to grab a knife in blurred anger, “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Well, he’s kind and patient, he gives me what I truly desire.” 

I glared at her some more as my hand tightened around the handle of the knife, ‘don’t do it, don’t do it’.

“You’re just not good en-” She was cut off abruptly and looked in horror at the knife plunged into her heart. She gasped little gasps and stumbled away, falling backwards with a loud thump. 

A small giggle escaped my lips before I could even stop it.

Guns by their sides

They say they’re just doing what’s right

Is killing someone right?

Bang! 

Another one lost today

What do we call it?

Racism

Families crying a river

Their lost ones now in a better place than here

Perhaps it’s time to consider

To take that trigger

Do we really want to live in fear?

Bang!

Another one lost today

What do we call it?

Racism

Black lives don’t matter, you say?

What if it were you there?

How would you feel if you knew you weren’t going to stay?

Bang!

Another one lost today

What do we call it?

Racism

So please, think about if it was you in that situation

The beautiful woman was walking on the street, wearing her best clothes. Another day of work, another day full of complaints on how the company should do better. She reached into her handbag only for another older man to start grabbing at her bag, “Give me all your money.” The woman beat the man down with her fist, shaking it after the impact. The man falls down to the concrete and picks himself back up, this time with a heavy black weapon in his hand. Before the woman could retaliate, there was a loud BANG. Then all was black. 

“I can’t do this anymore!” His voice rises, “Enough with the lying!” 

The woman looks at him from the floor, petrified, “Please honey, just let me explain-”

“NO!” He bellows. Then he raises his hand ready to slap her.

She looks at him with fear in her eyes and she flinches, as if he has already hit her.

Her husband lowers his hand and looks at the woman he loved- used to love and turns towards the closet door. 

His wife gets up from the floor and starts grabbing at his shirt, trying to prevent him from packing his things, “What about the kids? What are they going to think if you disappear out of the blue? Don’t you love them?” She looks at him with questioning in her eyes.

The little girl watched this scene from the crack of the door, she woke up because of the racket that was coming from down the hallway. “Daddy? You’re going to leave?” 

Her dad looked at the crack of the door abruptly, he looked angry but his face softened when he saw her adorable face. He picked up his suitcase and pushed past his daughter as he exited the bedroom without a word. 

“Dad?”

“Look what you’ve done now Ian!” The mother shouts accusingly.

Still, not a word spoken by the man who is leaving the house. 

“Dad?” The small girl starts crying.

Her dad glanced to take one last look at his daughter whom he will never see again, not if her mother has anything to say about it. Then he walked out into the darkness just as another shadow lurking the streets. Then that door slammed in her face. 

He bent down to give the little blonde girl wearing a blue dress with white lace a lollipop. The mother who was holding the girl’s hand’s attention was suddenly caught by this stranger in a black suit and sunglasses. 

“Stay away from my daughter!” The mother slaps the stranger’s hand before her daughter could take the candy.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” replied the man simply. You could imagine how it looks with a man wearing dark clothes offering a child candy. Of course the mother had a reason to be protective of her only daughter. 

The woman walked off holding the small girl’s hand. The mother was wearing a black dress with a jacket over it. The reason why she was dressed so nicely is because she had a job interview and she walked into the building with her head held high- she was determined she would get the job. She dropped her daughter off outside the head office and the mother opened the door, turns out it was the same man who tried offering her daughter candy earlier. 

“Oh-I-um.” The mother blushed.

“Please sit down.” gestures the boss.

“I’m really sorry about earlier.” she stuttered. 

“Yeah, that’s why you’re not going to get the job.” says the man with a smug look on his face, then he points at the door. 

The mother leaves shamefully with a bright red face. She walks outside of the office and says, “Amelia, time to leave now,” without looking at her.

“I never stood a chance, did I?” I ask him, looking him in the eyes.

“That’s the sad part- you did once.” He replies, pointing his gun directly at my soft and tanned head.

You probably have no idea what’s happening, so I’ll just rewind to when this story truly started.

My name is Lana Garcia and I am an elementary school teacher undercover. I’m a spy and this is my story:

I walk out of the blue door carrying my planning books for my class this semester. Mr. and Mrs. Langly, my next door neighbors wave towards me with wide smiles as I’m exiting my house. I give them a fake-smile and wave back. I don’t trust them- their smiles are way too wide, like they’re hiding something. As you clearly can see, I’m just a teeny bit paranoid, I’m trained to be because you never know what can happen! The car in front of my driveway honks its horn, that would be my dear spy partner. I’ve known him since he was orphaned and entered the agency. I’m very proud to be the one who taught him everything he needs to know to survive and look at this grown formidable man now; Bruno. 

“C’mon Lana!” He sticks his head out the car window, “We don’t have all day woman!” 

I sigh and chuckle at the same time, he has such a wonderful personality, I love him like my own son. “I’m coming Bruno!” I walk quickly towards the car. I hop into the car and Bruno starts the car right away, backing out of the driveway. I look at the sleek, black watch hugging my wrist, it reads 7:30AM. I’m late already! Bruno speeds up on the street and then he takes a turn towards Forest Road. We don’t normally go this way, this is the longer way to school and we don’t have time for this. But I completely trust Bruno and allow my eyes to flutter. I did not get to sleep at all last night due to someone’s snoring.

The car then stops, I stretch and open my eyes, escaping from the darkness of my mind. I look out the car window and we’re in a dark forest. I look at the driver’s seat and Bruno’s not there. Is it possible that he got captured by the enemies? I open the car door and run in whatever direction I trust my gut with. I see Bruno standing in the middle of the ground, surrounded by trees with his back to me. I dash towards him, worried. 

“Bruno!” I shout, “Are you okay? What happened?” 

Bruno turns to look at me, “Hey Lana. What’s the problem?” He asks, concerned.

“You just left the car in the middle of nowhere!” I exclaim.

“Oh I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, just as long as you’re okay.” I hug him.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be worried about me.” Bruno’s expression changes.

I take a step back, confused, “What do you mean?”

Bruno reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun with his finger on the trigger. 

“I never stood a chance, did I?” I ask him, looking him in the eyes full of darkness now.

“That’s the sad part- you did once.” He replies, pointing the solid black gun directly at my soft and tanned head. “You could’ve killed me a long time ago, but you didn’t because you became powerless and weak. Fooled by me. You gave me what I wanted- the secrets of your agency and so I no longer need your services.” 

I’m sitting in Maths class writing some notes in my book. The pencil sways forward and back, right to left. 

“What are the factors of 24?” asks the teacher in a bored voice so I extend my hand in the air to answer a question. Pain suddenly ripples throughout my shoulder, I immediately put my hand down so the pain doesn’t continue. Yesterday I got beat up again for literally no reason and this time Mr. Smith decided to bend my arm the wrong way and sit on it. I think my shoulder is dislocated because it’s starting to swell and become red in that area. 

“Diego, why’d you put your hand down? I bet you know the answer,” Addison whispers to me. 

“Um, I- I actually don’t know the answer,” I lie.

Addison looks at me carefully and I can’t help but yelp a teeny bit because I moved my arm again, “Why did you just yelp?” 

“What do you mean?” I whisper back.

“You just made a sound.” Addison states.

“No I didn’t.” 

“Yes you did,”

“Stop talking Miss Jones and Mister Martinez.” The teacher tells us off. He gives a glare behind his glasses.

“Sorry sir.” Addison and I say in unison.

Addison looks at me with a look in her eyes that says, ‘I know you’re lying and I’m going to find out what it is’ 

So I give her a look back that says, ‘Sure, but I’m not hiding anything.’

Then the bells ring. School is finally over so I walk out the classroom.

“Diego! Wait for me!” Addison calls. So I stop in my tracks. “You were acting kind of weird yesterday and you didn’t even want to come to my house yesterday.” 

“Um, I gotta go.” I say pointing towards the exit of the school building.

Addison squints and looks at me very carefully, “You’re lying to me.”

“Why would I be lying to you?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to find out.”

“Okay, enjoy.” I shrug and walk away.

That night after the Smiths fall asleep, I leave the house wearing a black jacket, black jeans and a red beanie. I pretty much own three different outfits because I stole some money from my foster parents a couple of times so I can provide for myself by buying some new clothes. When I came here at six, I never grew out of my clothes for about four years. I’m a growing boy, I need to take action sometimes even if it has consequences and I mean getting a beating. 

I brush my long and golden blonde hair out of my eyes, then my eyes wander around to look at the roads and then my attention is caught by the birthmark on the back of my wrist. It’s a pink mark that is shaped like a nine. Abruptly, a car honks their horn behind me and I regain focus, looking straight ahead of me while my hands are tightening on the wheel of the vehicle. I turn onto a highway, time to go fast now. The highway scares me the most because anything could happen and I was right…

I wake up in a strange white room with these shining bright lights, I try to get up from the snow-white bed but there’s an agonizing pain at the front of my head. My limp and pale hands reach up to touch my forehead and there’s a rough bandage around it. “What happened?” I groan to no one in particular. 

One day I was walking home from school with Addison by my side. We were in the middle of our conversation until…

“Diego? Can I ask you a question?” Addison interrupts.

“Sure,” I reply.

“So I know we’ve been friends for a short while now, but I was wondering if you’d like to come to my house today?”

“Oh-um, I-um, I can’t.” I say. We walk near a road with a shortcut to my house, I take this shortcut because I don’t want Addison knowing where I live.

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you,” I say sadly and I turn onto the road, “Bye Addy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait. Diego.” Addison calls after me. It’s not her, it’s me. 

I hate being that person but I don’t want my possible friend knowing my deepest secrets only for her to turn her back on me. As you can see, I don’t trust easily. How would I ever tell her, “Oh hey, I got something to tell you and it’s not anything great. You see, I’m an orphan and I live in a foster home where I get beaten up. I’ve tried calling Child Services many times but I always get caught by Mr. or Mrs. Smith and I get whipped, hit, punched, whacked and you get it, right?” I can just picture what her reaction would be, a horrified one that’s for sure. Don’t think I’m a coward or anything...

I close the door carefully and kick off my ripped, dirty and brown shoes by the door. Bet you Mr. and Mrs. Smith are lying in bed hungover. I grab a packet of salted chips from the cupboard as I pass through the kitchen and I dash through the living room that’s full of broken bottles and garbage. I rush into my bedroom.  I don’t usually get to eat so might as well take the chance. I lay in my bed while reading another book from The Series of Unfortunate Events, I got these books when I was six right before my parents died in that car crash. I look at the pages full of words but my mind wanders elsewhere. I remember that day like it was yesterday…

“We love you so much Diego and we’re sorry that we had to do this on your birthday but we have an important meeting. Only way to keep a roof over our heads. Happy birthday Diego.” My mom’s voice echoes in my head as she hands me the entire series of TSOUE.

“Thank you so much mommy!” I hug her.

Dad was standing beside her and bent down so our eyes met, “I love you more than anything in the world Diego and don’t ever think otherwise. You are a strong boy and I’m so proud of you,” he says with tears in his eyes.

“There’s always next year Dad.” I reply.

“Yes there is,” He blubbers..

They walk out the door together while a nanny stood behind me with a hand on my shoulder. I did not know that would be the last time I saw them. My parents never came back home that night. The next day was my worst nightmare.

“Hi there Diego, my name is Officer Kennedy, but you can call me Kendra,” a tall dark woman says to me sweetly at the doorstep of my old home.

“You’re a cop!” I couldn’t believe I was meeting a cop. Remember, I was only six-years-old.

“Indeed I am.” She smiles sadly. Another woman was with her but she wasn’t wearing a cop’s uniform, she looked very… prim and proper, so in other words, kind of stiff.

“This woman is Lila, she’s from Child Services. She’s going to put you in a different wonderful home.” Kendra explains to me.

“But I already live in a great home!” I protest.

“Yes, but your parents died and you don’t have any other family.” Kendra says heartbroken. 

I stood at the door frozen with shock. My mouth was wide open and then the waterworks were next. It was like Kendra just stabbed me in the chest and that knife hasn’t come out ever since. Apparently my parents died yesterday, on my birthday and so that would explain why they never came home. But I don’t know why a cop was explaining this kind of stuff to a six-year-old. 

I try to distract myself from the flashbacks by thinking about how I’ve been in this stupid foster home for seven-years straight. Foster homes are meant to be temporary and the Smiths don’t want me so why bother keeping me? No, I know why, it’s the money they are given that’s supposed to be able to provide ME with my needs, they spend that money on their worthless selves. My mind starts thinking about that day again and tears spring in my eyes. I don’t normally cry but when I do then it’s because of The Day My Life Fell Apart. Once the tears start, they don’t end. Waterfalls begin to go down each side of my face, I wish I could stop but I can’t.

“Diego! You are in BIG trouble!” bellows the school principal. Axel steps out from behind her and he is completely battered. He got a black eye, small cuts everywhere on his face and overall he’s just red, blue and black. His face kind of reminds me of a plum…

“Hi Ms. Roberts, what would be the problem that you just had to interrupt my teaching?” Mr. Rogers asks politely.

“One of your students… Diego, has beaten up this poor kid!” Ms. Roberts says with an edge to her voice.

Mr. Rogers raises his eyebrow at me, “Did he now?”

“Yes he did!” Ms. Roberts exclaims.

“I’m sorry, how would you know that without any evidence Ma’am?” Mr. Rogers questions.

“Well Axel told me, and I trust this boy.” She replies simply.

“Even though he’s been sent to your office on multiple occasions?”

“Well-I-um-”

“No offense to Diego or anything but he doesn’t look like he could even hurt a fly,” Mr. Rogers chuckles.

“I-I-I.” Ms. Roberts stutters.

“Clearly Axel got one of his friends to beat him up and of course he blames it on the one person he hates the most. Also, Diego was found in a locker this morning.” Mr. Rogers states.

“Um, I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you could start by suspending or expelling Axel- your choice Ma’am.” Mr. Rogers smiles, “Now hurry along, I have a class to teach- that is what I get paid to do, ain’t it?”

Ms. Roberts walks away flustered with Axel trailing behind. Axel looks directly at me in the eyes and flips me off- not a very nice thing to do. “Boy! Be gone!” Mr. Rogers waves Axel off. Then class continues.

“I’m confused, how did Mr. R find out that I was in a locker? And that Axel put me in there?” I whisper to Addison, and I’m just talking to her because… because- it doesn’t matter!

“I told him,” she says with big eyes.

“Why would you do that?!” I burst out.

“Because that’s not okay, no one should be treating you like that,” she says gently.

“You should come to my house and see how they treat me.” I mutter.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, don’t worry.” I say quickly.

“Okayyy.” Addison says creeped out.

Hold on. Think for a second. Have you ever had big dreams when you were younger? What happened to them? You gave up on them, didn’t you? Well, what about your huge dreams now? And don’t tell me you don’t have any dreams because that’s just untrue. Whatever dreams you have, I have five words for you: don’t give up on them. Dreams aren’t silly or dumb. Whoever says they are, then those people are just dream-crushers, BUT they should be the thing that encourages you to achieve that dream of yours because someone is doubting them. If your dream would make you happy then just go for it. 

One of the reasons why a lot of us human beings don’t put our dreams in action is because we think we’re too old to do that- that there’s not enough time now. But that’s just bull! In the words of C.S Lewis: “You’re never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” I think this is very true and if you want to open your own business, go for it! If you want to make your own fashion designs, do it! You want to make delicacies for pets, put it in action! No dream is dumb and you still have plenty of time left to do what you always wanted to do. 

I know what you're thinking, “how are we trees?” Don’t worry, it’s not anything sciencey because our DNA has nothing to do with plants. I’m talking about our behaviour as humans, it’s just an analogy. Imagine that we’re all trees and the people we come across in life are either a leaf, a branch or roots.

There will be the ones who are your leaves, who only stick around for a short time because they want something from you. When the time comes, the leaf eventually falls because they don’t want to hold on anymore. A lot of people you meet in life are leaves and it’s funny isn’t it? Because they’re leaves and they want to leave. Sorry for that pun, I just had to. 

Then there are your branches, they stay by your side for a long time but once things get hard, they leave. It’s as if another force acted upon them and just moved you apart. Kind of like bad weather breaking the branch off and the branch just goes along with it. 

You are lucky if you ever find someone who is your tree roots, they are the ones who help you grow, they are the ones who keep you going, give you stability. They won’t give up on you as long as they live. If you fall then you all fall together. 

Hey you.

Has anyone ever betrayed your trust before? 

Now you’re just broken while they just left you behind.

Well, I can help you not make that mistake again.

I got four words for you: Don’t trust too easily. 

Then, these are some of the few signs you can tell that you can’t trust them. Trust me, I’ve experienced this before.

You may meet someone who seems nice and then you totally hit it off- they like all the same things you like. Well, that’s the key word; they seem nice, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true. Don’t believe it, it’s not just a coincidence, that’s them just gaining your trust by pretending that you have lots in common. 

Then after you become “friends” they want you to do many things for them and you hang out often. While you’re hanging out, they let out this “secret” that’s not really one- it’s just made-up. They ask you not to tell anyone because, well, you know, it’s a secret. Now you feel the need to reveal a secret in return because that’s what friends do, right? Wrong, that’s someone who wants to find out ALL your secrets so they can blackmail you, ruin your reputation, just embarrass you and do many things with that secret. 

One day, you find out that your secret is now out in the open. You’re shocked at how this happened because it’s something really personal and you haven’t told anyone else. But wait, you did tell someone, their name pops up in your head and you’re like: “Hey, I told so and so about how this happened and I haven’t told anyone but them…” You decide to confront them, you ask them if they might’ve accidentally let your secret slip. They’re now just appalled that you would think that they would ever do such a thing. They say that they would NEVER do something like that, because you’re their friend. Just stop. They’re NOT your friend, don’t trust them because they’re using the word that manipulates you into believing them: friend. 

Now, if you don’t want to make this mistake again then just don’t let your wall down too easily. I’m not saying to be rude or offensive. But if someone interacts with you then talk to them nicely and politely but whatever you do, DO NOT let your wall down easily. If they were really interested in being your friend then they would do whatever it takes to prove to you that they’re really interested in a friendship. You can become friends with them if you truly think they are good people, but don’t talk about your secrets or personal life too soon, just in case. 

“Hey Diego! What are you doing here?” She asks, completely oblivious. I groan, why did she have to come? Anyone but her! I look at her directly in the eyes for the second time this morning, I keep seeing someone in those eyes… ‘Stoppit Diego! No one is your friend, don’t you dare trust anyone!’ I tell myself firmly in my head. 

“Why do you care?” I say in a bored voice. 

“Because, you’re my friend, Diego.” She replies simply. Aw dang it, why’d she have to use that word? Looks like I just have to hate her some more. 

“No I’m not! Why do you keep thinking that? Does it look like I want to be your friend? I don’t even know your name! Would a friend forget your name? Ugh, just leave me alone.” I shout at her while stepping out of the locker and shoving her on the way.

“Addison.” She manages to choke out.

I spin around and look at her, “what?”

“My name is Addison.” She whispers.

“Oh, well, thanks for letting me know when I don’t really care.” I storm out in the hallway, leaving her behind. I just made my first mistake, she’s such a special girl and this is how I treat someone who even bothered to make an effort to interact with me. I really regret it. 

I look back and she’s just standing in the middle of the hallway by herself with her long brunette hair just covering one eye. I observe her and I see vulnerability, kindness and… sadness? I sigh, “Addison, we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s start again, I’m Diego Martinez.” I stick out my hand for her to shake. 

She sniffles and giggles a bit, “Hi Diego, I’m Addison Jones.” She takes my hand and shakes firmly.

“Want to walk to class with me?” I ask. 

“Sure thing!” Addison replies.

Now, now, don’t you start thinking I’m an angel or anything. I’m just doing this for my own benefit, like I care about her at all.  

We walk to class together and I just remembered that I have history class, with Mr. Rogers. I wonder if he’s going to treat me any different regarding what happened last night. Addison and I walk into class, everyone looks at us. Mr. Rogers just glances at us and continues teaching while writing on the board. I take my seat while Addison takes the one next to me. I look at the board and there’s all these words that may be foreign to you but, not to me! I’m a freaking genius if I do say so myself. I scribble in my notebook about World War II, I just have to say, the way they ended the war- just wow. I just keep writing and writing in my book as Mr. Rogers blabs on and on. The door then opens and an angry voice screams, “Diego!”