"We first met in college. He was a classic high school jock and I was the shy bookworm nerd. He was popular and I was the last person anyone wanted to be around." As she talked you could tell small hearts flurried around her head.

"Classic high school love story." Stacy acted as if she knew everything about high school love. She had only seen a few movies.

"You could say that," Leila trailed off into thought. "Anyways, I always tried to get him to notice me. I had a big crush on him. He was a big sweetheart and every girl liked him." Leila paused for Stacy's response.

"Yet again, another classic highschool scenario," Stacy chimed in on cue.

"Yes, another classic highschool scenario," Leila said. "Girls teased me about it. Saying I would never be able to get him to even look at me and shi-" she paused and changed her language. "And stuff like that," she said.

"Such a highschool cliché!" Stacy practically squealed.

"Yes Stacy, you could say we were like all the movies with 'classic' love stories," Leila said in an annoyed fashion. She took a deep breath and she continued. "Well, being the big sweetheart he was, he told the girls off. On multiple occasions," Leila sighed. "Every day I would write him notes and attempt drawing him in my sketchbooks and-"

"Ship!" She yelled, interrupting Leila.

"Stacy, we get it's a high school cliché and stuff, but please stop interrupting and let me finish," Leila groaned.

"Sorry, Leila," Stacy said.

"So, it was almost prom and I was getting ready to ask him to be my date. It was such a surprise he hadn't been asked yet," Leila continued on with more passion in her tone than before. "I went to go and ask, then I saw him making out with another girl, so I ran away. What was the point?" She paused, and took a deep breath. "My locker was just barely big enough for me to sit in, so I sat there crying. I was in there for the rest of lunch and I cried. Some of the girls must've locked me in there or something, because when I tried to get out, it was locked. I pounded and cried out, but no one heard me. I guess everyone sort of, forgot about me. I was stuck in my locker for a full two classes before someone came to my rescue. It was Harold, and the janitor. Apparently, Harold reported strange sounds coming from this locker. Like banging and muffled yelling. They got the locker open and I said a quick thanks before running away. Prom eventually came around and I went with a few friends, but the whole night I was looking for Harold. He had brought a different girl to prom, but I ignored her, and watched him all night. I fantasized it was me who was dancing with him. I thought I imagined him coming up and asking me to dance, but he caught me watching him, and actually asked me to dance. I chickened out and ran outside into the alleyway behind the school. Some robbers had been waiting for an opportunity like this and they attacked me and apparently Harold wasn't far behind me. He saw them attacking me and beat them up, but he also got pretty injured, so we rushed to the hospital. I stayed by his side as he healed up, then-"

"Omigosh! Please tell me you had your first kiss!" Stacy interrupted.

"Yes, although it was really early, we shared our first kiss," Leila sounded as if she was floating on cloud nine. "We started dating shortly after and finished up high school. We graduated college and we rushed things quite a bit like getting married. I stayed at home and he worked. We tried to conceive many times, but also failed multiple times. I did get pregnant once, but it was a mis-carraige and we both fell into a stretch of depression. I quickly got over it, but I don't think he ever recovered. He started getting darker and more controlling. I brought up the idea of adoption, or foster care. He shut down that idea, saying they wouldn't be his own. We learnt shortly after that we couldn't conceive and our first pregnancy was a lucky mishap, but it probably wouldn't happen again. We both were depressed, again and our marriage started to fall apart because we didn't feel complete together. He finally made up his mind he didn't want kids, and started to become even more controlling and selfish. It took years until I was finally able to convince him to let me foster three small children in need of a home. All of you." Leila finished up her story and sighed.

"We're not little," I said, making a face.

"Well, that's all in the past now. Shall we go home?" Leila suggested. We all agreed and cleaned up to go home.

• • •

We got to our apartment entry and Stacy told me she saw two police cars outside, along with a new flashy sports car.

"Afternoon, Jim," Leila greeted the man at the front desk. "Why are the police here? Is someone hoarding drugs again?" Leila groaned.

"No, they actually asked for your number and I told them you were out," Jim said.

"Oh," Leila said, confused. "Well I'll go talk to them." Leila thanked us and brought us up to our place.

"Leila Andrea Hunterson, you're under arrest for kidnapping, child assault, assault, failure to show up to your court trial, and theft. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be, and will be used against you in court," a policeman stated.

"Wh- why? I haven't done anything though," Leila stuttered.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say, can be, and will be used against you in court," he repeated.

Leila kept silent as I heard two clanks of metal as if the arm cuffs were being locked in place.

"Hello, Leila. And my beautiful children," Harolds voice came from the other side of the room.

"Harold?" Stacy said. "What the fuck are you doing here?" She demanded.

"I'm here to collect my loving children," Harold said, and he swooped us up in a big group hug. "Is that any way to talk to me? I missed you so much," he sounded as if he were on the verge of tears.

"Sir, I think there's been a misunderstanding." I turned to the police.

"What type of misunderstanding could there possibly be?" One of them answered.

"Say one word, and you can go to hell with Leila, you little bitch," Harold whispered in my ear, quiet enough for only me, Stacy and Parker to hear.

He was still the same piece of shit he was a month ago. I didn't understand why he would be doing this. We were all so happy.

"What do you mean hell? You're not going to kill her, are you?" I gulped.

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out," he whispered again. He was so close, I could feel his breath in my ear, and I could feel his heart pumping at a slow pace through his chest.

I started to sweat, then before I knew it, I had bitten Harold as hard as I could, grabbed my siblings and ran out the door. Stacy pulled on me, telling me we were only going to get in more trouble if we didn't stop, but I ignored her. I kept dragging my siblings through the hall at a light jog, but I could hear the police shouting at us to stop. I don't know what I was thinking at the time, but my instincts told me to run. Run away from your problems.

"I will find you!" Harold yelled. "And I will bring you home!" He said shortly after. I knew by home, he meant my deathbed.

I admit, I felt bad for leaving Leila behind, but we would get her again, after I made sure we were all right. We stopped at a nearby gas station and went to the bathroom to talk strategy.

"Cieco, we have no money, no food, no clothes, no shelter, no nothing! We're running from the police-"

"And Harold."

"Yes, and him. But not the point. We won't survive, we have to go back!

"And risk getting taken by Harold, sent to our own death? It's too late Stace, we can't. We're on the run for good now. I get a job and we can live in a broken down shelter or something," I argued.

"Cieco, you're not listening. I'm going back, you can do whatever you want. Parker, are you coming with me or Cieco?" Stacy said.

Tears started to run down my cheeks. I looked at her in disbelief.

"Stace-"

"Don't call me that."

"Stacy, don't do this. Don't make him choose, and don't split us up," I struggled to say through my coughing and wailing.

"Cieco, you made your choice. Go run off with Hunter or something. Live your own life, me and Parker are going to live ours," Stacy said her final words to me, before storming out the bathroom door and leaving me there in a sobbing puddle on the floor.

•••

I threw open Hunter's hospital door and waited for a response.

"Cieco?" He coughed out.

"Hunter," I cried out and ran to him.

"Cieco, how did you get here? Why are you here? Where's Stacy an' Parker?" Hunter asked.

"We went our separate ways, and I know the way to this hospital by heart. Hunter, what's wrong with you? Why are you here?" I hugged him, and he went into a coughing fit, forcing me to let go.

"Doctors say it's getting worse everyday," he mumbled. "Tank stopped working properly, and it's too expensive to get a new one that will suit my new needs. It's getting worse," he told me.

"The mucus?"

"Yeah, there's too much now. I'm doomed to spending my last moments here in this bed."

"Hunter, don't say that. I can't lose you, I just lost Stacy and Parker." I wanted to cry again.

"Cieco, it's not losing me. I'll always be there, and you will get your siblings back, nothing can break your bond. Consider this a break," he said, before having another coughing fit.

"Well how. It's not like they want to see me again." I held his hand closer to me.

"Of course they will."

"Well they're probably tired of having to lug me around everywhere. I'm just a big bag of luggage for them. I'm no help with my blindness."

"Cieco, don't think of it that way. You're smart, creative and funny. You don't need your eyes to see, you have your mind. Seeing everything is boring. You get to imagine it all, and listen to it." He placed his hand on my cheek and I smiled.

"You're right. My other senses are way stronger, too," I said, trying to boost my confidence.

What Hunter had said opened up my eyes a little. I realized I didn't need my eyes. Never did, never will. I had my heart and brain that led me where I needed to go.

In that moment, without thinking, I followed my heart. I leaned forward, letting his lips meet mine.

*Authors note* I will be back to my regular every other Saturday posting schedule

anyways, until next time, my fellow Hoomans

-@Creative_hooman