Chapter Six

I woke up in the dark, not remembering why I wanted to wake up at 11:45. I sit up and it all rushes back, the alley, the cat mask-wearing girl, the window exit. I bolt up out of bed, holding my breath and listening for any sounds of disturbance. I hear snoring, but nothing else.

I let out the breath I was holding and move silently. Getting dressed, every groan and creak sounds like thunder under my foot, breath sounds like an earthquake. It's just my nerves, I'm always quiet, but still, it's nerve racking. I poke the curtains aside and look out. The girl is nowhere to be seen. She is hiding again. I glance at the clock, ten till midnight. Not sure if I can find my way back to the rooftop in five minutes, I swish the curtains aside fully. I climb onto the roof under the window hole.

I shut the curtains and look up. My window has an awning and a bar ledge around it to keep what plants are in the flower boxes safe. I balance on the thin but strong metal bar and make my way to the ledge over the alley. I look at the tile awning, and I feel a twinge of doubt that I'll make it. Then I remember what the Assassin Instructor taught us when we were on that part of training.

"When in doubt, jump for it. If you don't jump, you won't get to where you want to be. If you do jump, and you end up falling, the worst that can happen is you might be out of commission for a bit. But you will have learned from that jump. Choose an animal that can jump and study it. Study how it moves, how it's muscles prepare for the spring." Masteress Phoebe de la Croix told us. She's an assassin, a very good one. I looked up to her as an idol. Though she was chosen at ten, a strange and rare occurrence. She succeeded and was 13 when she taught us.

I studied a cat that came and went as it pleased. I watched it hunt, spring at its prey and coil for the spring. I take off my light tennis shoes and socks. I tie them to my belt around my waist. I get back on the ledge and curl my toes around it. I crouch just like Masteress Phoebe did, just like a cat, and prepare for the jump, bunching and coiling my muscles like a wind up toy just waiting to be set free.

I judge the distance and spring for it. I land on all fours, my fingers and toes gripping at the surface. I grin at the power zinging through my muscles. I gain the knowledge of the distance to the roof and coil up again, waiting for the best moment to jump. I spring and land on all fours silently again. I study the rooftops, gauging the directions. I pull off the little leather bag tied to my belt. I retie it around my neck and open the bag a little. 

My eyesight sharpens in the dark, same with my hearing and my sense of smell. I smell the coal burning in the furnaces to keep families warm, I hear the barking of a lone dog, hear the distant howl of wolves. My head doesn't pound at the gradual increase of power as I open it more and more, knowing what's going to happen helps a bit. I study the rooftops again with the new sight, and jump to the building across from my window. I turn North and follow the alley from the rooftops, silently jumping and running, as though I am a cat at midnight.

I make it to the alley and stand on the roof that the girl was on. I look towards the clock tower. One minute left. I watch the stars until a very slight movement draws my attention away from the sky. Something I wouldn't have heard without the blessing. The midnight bell rings, echoing through the town.

I speak into the darkness. "Hello, right on time." I turn around, drawing the bag closed and tucking it under my clothes, out of sight. My senses adjust to being duller, less powerful. The girl stands at the edge in a cat crouch, her hood down and red curly hair flying in the slight wind, her silver cat mask glinting in the strong moonlight. A rebel willing to teach me what I need to kill them once I'm an Assassin. Or use them, if I choose that path, which I won't. Ever. The girl laughs, high pitched and clear.

"Yes, always. I'm never late. I am going to teach you the physical part of being an Assassin. The old oaf will teach the matters of the mind, then send you to a friend out of town to learn the physical part. I want you to speak nothing of this to anyone, especially Dakota. You jump well, like a cat. Whoever taught you is good." She smiles at this, then continues.

"Be silent and follow me. My sender knows nothing of this arrangement, I sent the report last night by raven, and she will not know of it. Now come." She turns around and jumps onto the next roof. I caught her green eyes and sharp chin before she turned. I follow her.

She gets close to the edge of town and finally drops to the ground. She moves to a door and opens it. I walk in after her. It opens into a bright kitchen, which surprises me, since it's a little after midnight. What surprises me even more is the man with bright red hair and emerald green eyes that match the mysterious girl. He looks up and his eyes land on her.

"Phoebe? What brings you tonight? And who is this?" He asks, standing up. He's tall, really tall. His head almost brushes the ceiling.

"Don't use that name. I disowned it when I became Silver Sharp Claw, and I need some help with a trainee. I need her to be ready when the time comes, I will have to leave her then and return to the camp. This is…" She stops, paces a second, then smiles. "This is Gold Hawk, you will know her by that. But her Master is an old oaf who can only teach the mind part of Assassin hood and Explorer hood. I need your help to train her properly. You were one, you know." She says, pacing again.

"Well, I was, but I can't help her, or you. I was banished from it. I killed the wrong person. You need to leave now. I won't partake in any of this mess again." He says, turning his back away from us.

"I need help teaching her so she doesn't make the same mistakes you did. History has no need to repeat itself. I need your help, do it for me, please daddy." She begs, standing stationary for once. I think it was the "daddy" that did it.

"Fine! Fine, I'll do it, but I call you Phoebe. Only condition. I think your mother would roll in her grave if she heard her daughter being called Silver Sharp Claw. I'll call her Hawk, none of that gold business. I might need to bring in your brother too, if she's difficult. I taught him everything I know. He rubs his hands together in excitement. "I haven't gotten to do anything this interesting for a decade."

"Okay, call me Phoebe, but we start tonight. Lead the way, Dad." She gestures for him to lead on. He spins on his heels and marches farther into the house, not even glancing back to see if we're even following him. He knows we are.

He leads us to an empty room with mats on the floor and walls. "This is the training room for Jungle Assassins and Explorers. Look up, Hawk." It takes me a moment to realize that he means me. I look up and lose my breath. I'm surprised by what I see, considering that this looked like a small house. 

The top half of the roof is covered in different sized bars, painted brown; imitations of tree branches. There are little plastic leaves too, just making it feel more real and life-like. "This is amazing. I'm guessing for balance and strategy making. What do we start with?" I ask, my excitement rolling off me in an ocean wave.

The guy holds up his hands in a "Wait a moment" gesture. "We will start down here on balance beams before we attempt the fake Jungle. Also hand to hand on the beams, to be ready for practice up there. Phoebe, see what she knows. I'll set up the beams.``He goes over to the wall and pulls a section of mat away, revealing a storage place. She gets my attention back to her.

"Let's start, I only know the basics, mostly. Our Master Assassin, who came around to teach us, gave me extra lessons, saying that I'm a natural and that I'll need them later on. Masteress Phoebe De La Croix was my idol. She would be fourteen now, I think." I add, gauging her reaction to what I said. Nothing but flared nostrils.

I block a few punches, gaining how she moves before I take offense. I gave a fast combo that I made up. A straight jab to the nose, quickly followed by an uppercut and a foot sweep to knock her to the floor. But, with all good plans, it fails.

I get as far as the jab at her nose and she blocks it, forcing me to spin out of the way to avoid a hurtful punch to the jaw. "That fast combo is what any good fighter would expect. To surprise your opponent, do something very simple, then something really complicated. Take them off guard and do as much damage while they are momentarily disoriented."

Something simple? I'll give you something simple, all right. I feint right and give her a punch to the side before rolling between her legs and kicking the back of her knees, forcing her down to her knees. She quickly recovers and gets to her feet, but the damage was done, and she's taking me more seriously. We circle, waiting for an opening in defenses.

Growing impatient, I try to punch her jaw, but she catches my arm and, before I can blink, she has me in a headlock. "Good job, Phoebe, but try to be a bit quicker about it, will ya? Beams' up, get up, start working on your balance. The beam thins out as you go." The man says, crossing the room to join us. I study the tan beam. It starts at a half foot width and narrows to just a toe width. 

I crouch like a cat preparing for a spring. I loosen the bag under my shirt a little. My hearing improves just enough to hear what they are talking about. I jump and land on the bar. I straighten out of my crouch and start walking, listening carefully to what they say. 

"...just like a cat, Phoebe. I know you taught her that when you were a Master Assassin teaching wards." Her dad says, waving a hand in my direction. 

"Well, she looked so much like someone I know, that I just knew she was special. Plus, those who are destined for rebels usually pick a cat to study, because they are an animal of the trees. She was the only one who chose a cat to study. So, naturally, I gave her extra lessons to prepare her. Look at her balance, as good as a cat, no flailing. I bet she could have been a cat in a past life.`` That last comment got to me, and before I lose my balance, I flip over to the wider end.

"I also have hearing as good as a cats, and sight as good, too. Probably smell, also. I don't think I was a cat in a past life. I just have a blessing from a High Priest, and I catch onto things quickly." I say, jumping down from the beam. I draw the bag closed.

"Well, let's focus on fighting because your balance is impeccable. Though, first, I would like to see this blessing of yours." Her dad says. I pull out the bag and open it slowly, letting the tingle of magic and blessings settle, before I dump the ivory pendant into his hands.

He gasps as he looks down at me. I give a small smile, but I'm more focused on what I see dancing around him. It's a sea of calm blues with flecks of silver. It's his aura, his personality. "It's so beautiful, your aura, Miss Hawk. It's gold, like sunshine, with purple swirls." Phoebe takes it carefully from him and looks at me.

While she is gaping at me, I'm looking at her aura in wonder. It's red, orange, and yellow, like flames and cat eyes. When I look into her face, it is transformed. She has green cat eyes and cat ears. It's what she is, a beautiful cat in a human body.

I take the pendant from her hands and they both gasp. "Your aura, I can see it so clearly, so truly, when you have hold of the pendant yourself. It is beyond words, too indescribable, too perfect for any words I could create." I notice that the room is dancing with colors, so I put the ivory pendant in the bag and draw it firmly shut.

"You said it enhances your abilities and senses?" I nod to Phoebe's dad's question. "I think you should try wearing that bag open a little more each day, until it is fully open and the pendant out. To be a true Assassin, you have to be attentive to everything, how big or small it may be, it's all important to us Assassins. Open the bag up fully and let's start that fighting lesson." I nod and, reluctantly, open it up fully, not realizing that, at that exact moment, the name on the ivory pendant is changing, the name is the true name of the Fate Threader, Silver Raven.

I drop into my room, sweaty and exhausted, my mind filled with fighting terms and moves. I glance at the clock, two hours until six, the wake up time. I collapse on the bed fully clothed, toe off my shoes, and hope to fall into a deep sleep, not realizing that I'm actually just going on a Soul Drift adventure.

I feel my soul tug and groan inwardly. I let it go and float with it out the window I just came in through. I'm going to see the rebel girl again, I guess as I drift through the forest at a fast pace.

I end up in a throne room, a golden chair with fourteen smaller silver chairs, six on the right, six on the left of the golden throne. All occupied except one on the end of the left side. The people wear silver masks of different animals. I only recognize Silver Raven. The girl on the golden throne wears a gold heron mask. She is the leader, and Silver Raven sits right next to her; her sub-commander, the next in line, her trusted lieutenant.

"I am sorry that Silver Sharp Claw can't join us, for she is on a special mission. We will begin the sorting. Silver Raven, will you do the honors?" The girl in gold asks.

"Yes, Gold Heron, I will do the honor of sorting." She says, then mutters under her breath, "I'm the only one who can." Silver Raven, her long black hair braided with raven feathers, stands up and walks to the center of the large circular room and spreads her arms out. As her fingers twitch and pull at invisible strings, her bright red aura glows, lightening the room. All of the people glow red, their aura's reacting to the pull of Silver Raven's. Gold Heron's aura glows a bright gold, the sun in the mass of red.

"First group, now!" Silver Raven yells. I see the strain on her to use this power. Beads of sweat appear and evaporate from the heat of her aura in seconds. A big set of wet looking tarps are pushed aside and a group of young kids enters, ten, to be specific. Silver Raven tugs with her fingers and lines of glowing thread come out of the kids, connecting them to her fingers. The threads start out as blues, greens, and yellows, all dampened by a red blush. The threads all slowly turn fully red, all but one. That one stays a strong black.

The reds are ushered out while the black stays. It's a girl of about eight with blond pigtails in a light blue nightgown. She crosses her arms in defiance. The Gold Heron says calmly "Stop, we might have a need for a torturer. Tell us, what is your name, Miss?"

The girl raises her eyebrows, but says "I'm Helena Leebrook. How do you know what I am just because I like to hurt things?" She asks, her high voice seemingly innocent, if you don't pay attention to what she is actually saying.

"Well, your new name is Black Swan. Your aura is black, meaning you are either a grim reaper or our torturer. We have a grim already, so you are our new torturer now. We will have the mask makers meet with you and get your mask made specially."

Helena, now Black Swan, bows and scampers under the tarp. Another group of ten comes in and all are changed to red. A good four hundred kids are sorted before the guard, in a blue rabbit mask, motions that there aren't anymore. Silver Raven drops to her knees as soon as the signal is given, her arms hanging limp by her sides. She has a fresh sheen of sweat on her face and arms. Her face is masked, but her eyes tell a story of exhaustion and weakness.

The Gold Heron holds up a hand. "You have done well, Silver Raven. Blue Whiskers, bring her to her chambers to rest. I will visit you later. All are dismissed." Everyone stands up and starts towards the tarp, while the guard, Blue Whiskers, helps Silver Raven up and out.

I follow them through the confusing tunnel system to the familiar cave that Silver Raven lives in. I sit on the floor and wait, then realize with a laugh that I am like a ghoul. I have a body, but no one can actually see me. Blue Whiskers leaves, and I gaze at the seemingly sleeping figure and wait to leave. About five minutes go by before she starts speaking, making me jump.

"If my sister is here, you may have seen why I don't want you to come here. The Gold Heron uses everyone to her advantage and leaves others to pick up what's left of them. I just hope I can take the throne before you get here with powers that have been spoken of, coming to unite everyone. You are the Golden Hawk that will save us all. I just hope that you're actually here and I'm not just talking to myself, delusional for thinking that I saw your aura in the hallway." The girl sighs and closes her eyes.

I have a sudden urge to take out the ivory pendant fully. I tug the bag open and start to come forth and become a little more visible. I pull it out and smile as my aura lights the cave up. Silver Raven opens her eyes in wonder.

"I'm not sure if I'm related to you or not, but you have been heard, seimah, and I will wait." I say, not knowing if she can hear me or even see me. She gasps, covers her mouth, and nods.

"I will be the one to help you. Go, before you are discovered, Genevieve." She smiles and I feel the tug. I close the bag, the ivory pendant safely inside. I let my soul pull me back. I close my eyes and when I feel the heavy quilt on me, I sigh and fall into a true dreamless sleep.

I'm shaken awake by a rough hand. I swat it away harder than I meant, and I hear a loud thud, quickly followed by a familiar grunt. "What do you want?" I ask, squinting through the light shining from the open window hole.

"It's time to get up, Gene. It's six-thirty. I was sent up to wake the sleeping beauty. Just be glad I wasn't in the mood for doing plays, or I would have woken you up in a different way." While I'm busy blushing, Dakota tosses clothes at me. He leaves and I get dressed, thinking of what I would have done if he was in the mood to do a play and wake up sleeping beauty. I toss away the thought as I remember my promise to Jackson.

I go down to the kitchen, remembering to open my bag a little, but mainly focused on the lines to Romeo and Juliet. I wash my hands and get started on the dough for bread. Dakota comes in and just stares at me. I slap flour onto my cheeks. 

"What? Do I have something on my face? Why are you staring?" I snap, my patience gone on vacation to the city. He gives me a look and my anger rises.

"Are you okay? Did something happen? I was just trying to see if you were okay." He says gently, just like he used to when I'm in a mood. My anger evaporates quicker than a small puddle on a hot day.

"Sorry, rough night. I have to tell you something tonight, well, after lessons." I open the bag a little more, blinking away the few poundings in my head as I adjust to the heightened senses. The pain in my head left as quick as it came, but it still leaves me light headed, forcing me to lean on the counter so I don't fall.

I feel an arm on my forehead while my vision is still fuzzy from being light headed. "Are you sure you're okay?" Dakota asks, still feeling for a fever. I move away from his hand.

"I'll tell you later also, but I'm just a tad light-headed. It's almost over, so don't worry. " I say, my eyesight is almost completely clear of the fuzzy stuff. I blink away the last few patches and go back to kneading the dough like nothing happened. Dakota narrows his eyes and studies me for a minute longer, sighs, then goes on doing the fried pastries he was about to start when he had to get my butt out of bed.

We work until noon, stopping for a meal and our lesson. We skipped meditation this time. Today we are taken somewhere, to the square. We brought two barrels, two long sticks, and two buckets. We fill the buckets with water from the pump and slide the buckets onto the sticks as directed.

"Now, the buckets aren't secured to the sticks, so they can slide off or spill water. Get those on your shoulders and get on the barrels." He helps get the buckets on when we get up. You will have to stay there for five hours. The timer restarts for the person who drops their bucket. Don't come down at all!" He starts two stop watches. He takes a seat on the edge of the fountain. When Dakota's arms are hanging with lots of slack at the beginning, Master

Solbek yells "Arms out Dakota! This isn't nap time! Stretch them all the way out...Atta boy! Now keep them there!" 

The first ten minutes pass in silence, everyone is still having their mid-day meal. As the sun beats down on us, sweat starts to drip down my back and face. With no clouds to relieve us of the sun's relentless stare, we are pouring sweat as people start venturing out. Those people bring more people, and so forth; at the one hour mark, there is a crowd.

The people driving through also stop to watch the entertainment. At about halfway through the second hour, Dakota's bucket slips and hits him in the head while the other slides off completely. He stays up on the barrel while some helpful people fill the buckets and put them back on the stick. The crowd is roaring with laughter and Dakota's face is red from embarrassment. It's then that I realize it's not just about endurance, but about taking the humiliation and embarrassment and using those to fuel your energy.

At the end of the second hour, my hand starts to slip and I readjust until it is safe to hold it steady with one hand. I wipe my hands and stick with my shirt while keeping the buckets level. Master Solbek raises his eyebrows but says nothing, Then I catch movement on the rooftops out of the corner of my eye.

A figure in a black cloak crouches on the red clay tiled roof and watches. I smirk, give a two finger salute, and go back to humming and watching the crowds. The third hour comes and goes, and people start pumping water to drink. I close my eyes and redo my posture, making my back straighter despite the ache, my arms pulled with no slack to pull from, fixing the tip of the barrel by centering my feet better. I glance at Dakota and notice his arms are shaking. I bet mine are too.

I always focused on leg muscles, never gave thought to my upper body strength. I'm regretting that now. I focus my energy and give it to my shoulders and arms, reinforcing my energy and strength. My arms stop shaking. I can feel the smile and approval from Silver Sharp Claw, the crowd's disappointment that the bucket didn't fall, the glance at the stop watches. The fourth hour comes to an end and the last hour begins, for me at least. A breeze, slow and cold, cools the sweat on my face and neck.

I place my focus on Silver Sharp Claw. Her voice fills my ears as I focus on her. "Good, you can hear me. My dad is watching this, just a fair warning." I hear a shift in placement and a rustle of heavy fabric as she sits down. 

"There once was a ten year old girl, as bright and cheerful as the stars, completely dedicated to being a Fate Chosen. She despised rebels and hoped to be the one who stops them. Back then, the Priests sent scrolls of the names who would ascend the mountain to enter the temple and be Fate Chosen. That stopped the year a ten year old girl was on the list. The list arrived and the people on it fasted for three days. The High Parents held out until the last day of fast to tell her. She was to be sent up that year or to never total to her whole worth, which was a lot.

"They sent her with a go pack and up the mountain she went. She reached the summit first and went in right away. She was told that she had to become the one thing that she despised, a rebel. She wandered, taught Assassin lessons, since that was what she knew best. She lied and said her Fate was that, to be an Assassin. She became known as The Child of Death, on account of how many missions she completed.

"She was finally recruited to go and help extinguish the rebel groups. She was happy to comply, thinking that if they are gone, she can't become one of them. On one raid, she had the leader at knifepoint, gold mask broken and on the floor. The leader was the same age as the thirteen year old girl, if not younger. Then, she recalled what a girl, whom she gave extra lessons to, asked one day. 'What if bad people have a reason for doing the bad, and we just don't ever try to learn why? What if we agreed to their reasoning, would there be a need for so many unnecessary deaths?" She laughs, shaking her head.

"She recalled that and realized that a girl of fifteen, who has never put a toe outside of the valley, had spoken words of wisdom that the rest of the world would never accept because of how true they are.. So she let the girl go and learned the true reasons and goals behind the rebels. We stand for freedom of choice and choosing your own Fate. We stand and want to rid the world of the High Powers who control us. Think about this, your time for holding the bucket is almost up, I must go." She disappears and I refocus on the crowd and what's going on. Dakota is about ready to collapse, the crowd is on edge, waiting for something to happen.

I turn my focus to Master Solbek, who is intently watching the stop watch. After a few minutes or so, he looks up and raises an eyebrow at me. I keep my pose and he finally smiles. "You can come down, Genevieve, your time is up!" He yells. I grin and step off, landing gently on my feet, knees bending to absorb the impact. The water is barely disturbed by a ripple. My shoulders shake as I pry the stick off my shoulders and set it down, not spilling anything. A clap starts somewhere and builds up to a roar. I completed the task without failure. I stood for five hours up there and finished. A silence follows the clapping and I rub my growling belly. 

"I sure am hungry from all that." A ripple of laughter echoes out, Master Solbek's potbelly dancing with laughter. 

"Well, you will get some food when we get home, after this buffoon is done." Master Solbek says, sighing and glancing at the stop watch. He's got an hour and a half left, so I pursue the crowd and look for Silver Sharp Claw's dad. I find him in the back, sipping water, and I sneak up on him. 

I tap his shoulder and he says "Nice job, Miss Hawk. I thought you would have failed a bit more. Phoebe bet that you wouldn't drop the buckets. I just lost a gold because you are too strong. Do you know what the purpose of this exercise is?" He adds, "Call me Charles, by the way."

"Endurance and using embarrassment to fuel your muscles. We could have done this on the roof or in an alley easily, but we did it in the town square." I say, studying the roofline.

"Bring that boy tonight. He needs to learn a few things. I'll bring my son to help. He can teach you, while Phoebe and I take care of him. Watch, he's going to collapse the second your Master says his time is up." We watch him slowly lose posture and Master Solbek correct him. I can see the sheen of sweat on him from all the way back here.

True to Charles's word, the moment Master Solbek gives the word, he collapses. "I'll see you and him tonight." He salutes and strodes off while I fight my way through the crowd to Dakota. I reach him and pull him up, slinging his arm over my shoulders and holding it there while I put an arm around his waist, supporting him.

"Thanks, Genevieve," He says, his voice strained as we follow Master Solbek through the streets to home. I grunt and stop to catch my breath outside the shop door.

"Come to my room fifteen minutes before midnight. I need to show you something." He nods and we bobble in. Mom and Hal are sitting at the table set and laden with food for dinner. Hal jumps up and helps Dakota into a chair.

"Which one of you guys fell?" Hal asks, passing a sly smirk at Dakota as Dad sits down.

"Well, the boy's bucket on the right slid and bonked him in the head while the other fell off. It was about an hour and a half in. The crowd went wild with laughter at that." Hal smirks and Dakota's face goes red again. "Gene, though, didn't slip. She even held the bar in place with one hand so she could dry the bar and her hands!" Dad says, clapping Hal on the back as his mouth hangs open in astonishment.

"My hands were slipping, and I couldn't just let it fall." I say, shrugging. They all laugh as we start eating in a merry mood.

When I pass the bread to dad, he says, "I am leaving the shop in Hal and Your Mother's hands tomorrow. We are going on a day-long trip to get you and the boy registered, so that once I send word, you'll get your first mission. Then, when we get back, I'm leaving you in the care of an Assassin willing to teach y'all the physical part of the job. I'm too old for that, I was retired for a good fifteen years before you and Dakota showed up at my door. Sleep good tonight, you'll need it!"

We finish dinner and I help with dishes. At the top of the stairs, Dakota catches me before I go into my room. "Are we still on tonight, for whatever you have to tell me?"

I smirk, "Yep, no getting out of that. Fifteen till midnight, remember!" I say, pushing past him to my room. 

As I close the door, he mutters "I'm already planning a funeral for my sleep, lady." I wait until the door is closed and I'm on my bed to start laughing. I stop as I study my sister's side of the room.

I know that she would be fifteen by now, about to start or already in her training. Malyia, a name that I can't place with a face. Then I recall something. I picked up the history book on the nightstand, A Past Worth Remembering By: Samuel Conwell.

I flip to the part I remembered and read, "During a Soul Drift, the person sees direct family at the beginning until they are trained enough in the matters of the mind." I remember that I called Silver Raven, by accident, Seimah. The Talmac, the ancient language of the Fate Chosen, word for sister. I meant it as a sister in Fate Chosen, not literally.

Probably, she's a cousin or something. I'll ask mom later, but right now I need as much sleep as possible, and I can only get so much. Blowing out the lit lantern, I lay down and think of another girl like me.