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February 17, 20081

She stared at the coffin waiting for him to rise back up but she knew it would never happen. She couldn’t believe that she didn’t notice his pain. The priest began to read a psalm. Schueler knelt down on the bar and bent her head. The sweet burn of the incense filled her nose. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she watched, Brother Fern swing the urn over the white sheet that hid Andrew from view. If she gad known maybe months before when something could have been done. But once he made his mind there was nothing I could do. Was There? Schueler allowed her fingers brush lightly against the coffin as it passed. She could remember everything about him. Like the first day they had met.2

May 23, 19993

Schueler stared at the computer blindly. This could not be happening to her. Schueler typed her keyboard one more trying to communicate her urgency to the processor. The screen again showed the same message she had seen in the last few weeks. PERSON NOT FOUND. PLEASE CHECK YOUR INFORMATION. COURTESY OF THE COUNTRY INTERNATION ASSOCIATION. Schueler had never been fooled by those words. It was obvious from growing up in a militant family. It maybe different words but it had the same letters. CIA. The base was the home of several families with immediate family members in high ranked service. Schueler was in the care of her biological aunt and uncle but she longed for the family she had grown up knowing. She just couldn’t find them. It’s as if they disappeared off the face of the earth. Maybe this library just isn’t updated. Schueler glanced at date of the informational databases revision. April 15, 1998. Not much would change drastically. Schueler shut the computer down and kicked the desk angrily. She banged her head against the desktop and gritted her teeth. How was she ever going to get home if she couldn’t find their bloody address? Schueler smiled briefly. Bloody. My new favorite word. Perfect in this bloody town with no bloody mall. All the bloody people are bloody…bloody. Schueler smirked. To keep people inside a haven ran by ex-licensed killers in order to protect the innocent from potential killers. A paradox or oxymoron. Either way it made no sense to Schueler. She wanted to back in Minneapolis hanging out with her friends. Her friends who hated bright colors like she did. The people she’d grown up with. Now she was stuck with stick size strangers she didn’t now from Adam. All this because it was far better for her to be with relatives rather than her godparents. Schueler bit back on the burning in her eyes. Crying was for the weak. A soldier’s daughter never cries. A soldier’s daughter never cries. Schueler looked up when she was sure no tears were coming. The library was buzzing with socializing butterflies. Schueler cursed under breath at the insanity. “Since when do you chat inside a library? That’s totally bogus. This place is bogus. Bloody bogus.” She just looked around and scowled. “It’s only bogus when you don’t understand the rules, Schueler. Remember what Catherine said ‘The art of simplicity is making peace with your complexities’.” Schueler spun around several times. She saw no one. The voice had been so close yet not just next to her closer. Aw, crap! I’m finally going insane from this place. Now I’m hearing voices. I gotta get outta here. I need fresh air! She ran out of the library as fast as she could. 4

Schueler jumped down from the library’s steps and landed in a crouch on the sidewalk. She slowly rose and checked her surrounds. Coast clear. She broke into her strut. If anyone faced her they would start at her feet and work their way up. Just because that’s were the action starts. Her deep purple boxing prototypes kissed the sidewalk in a teasingly slowly fashion. Schueler’s sloes reached the cement but almost instantly they broke away. Though many girls in the Hinckley area wore shorts or skirts (even through the nine months of winter), Schueler stuck to her comfortable dark cargo pants that hung in a baggy manner from her hips. Also in contrary to the fashion do, Sky wore a long sleeved gray shirt under her tank top. A tank top that read “Ghuck da Maryns”. An inconspicuous antimilitary memorabilia she had bought when she learned of her new change of address. No one had figured it out yet, either that or no one cared. Any stranger could begin to see the tips of her fishtail braid swinging back and forth. And after that, her face would shock even close friends. Upon entering her care, Schueler’s Aunt Verna had outlawed face paint. So instead of her usual roses and thorns pictures, Sky’s swarthy face absorbed the light from the sun shining overhead. She dark brown eyes glared out in front of her. Both her lips and eyebrows were drawn into a frowns façade. But at that moment, she felt quite jolly. Even though once again her search had ended in a disappointment, now she got to go home and blog. She would tell the world about how much Hinckley sucked. She would email all her friend and complain about how she hated her life when Uncle Mark asked her how her day went. As long as she was miserable, Schueler was happy.5

She round the third block and sighed as the view of the Madison’s cottage came into view. It stood out amongst the brick and panel siding of the other abodes. But that’s one of the things that had kept her from running away that first night. At least these people were nonconformists. Even if they didn’t know it yet. Verna Madison had requested to have an English cottage sort of home, even if it cost a little more for the custom design. Sky shook her head, wonder how much more the cottage had cost than the brick farmhouse. She hopped up the steps and turned around surveying the wide-open neighborhood inside a gated society. She was searching for the figure that always stepped out of the shadows next to the corner store alley. Everyday, Schueler had seen a small figure step out of the shade and lean against the wall. Probably on his break. She looked at person. To anyone she considered normal they would do one of two things either become paranoid and assume that someone was after them. The other option would be to ignore the person completely. Schueler wouldn’t choose either of these, because in her definition she wasn’t normal. Instead for the past week and a half she had sat and stared at the person trying to guess what was going through his head. From faraway they would have a conversation based of gesticulations. She would sit until he noticed her. Then he would nod his head. She would repeat the gesture and look up at the sky as if to say, “Why is it always sunny here?” He would then shrug and shake his head, In her mind it meant to be as a confirmation of what her uncle had already told her. “I don’t know. But it isn’t always sunny. Just wait till the rain comes and you’ll be thankful.” Sky then would stretch and roll her eyes along with her head telling him that she preferred the rain to sun any day. Then he would nod slowly as if he already knew. Then their communication would stop. Shy had contemplated going up to him a couple times but didn’t think it was a good idea. Sure he looked like a teen from a distance, but he could easily be like twenty. So she always sat in her spot until he went back behind the shadows until tomorrow. 6

She stared at him intently he had added an extra sign today. She squinted her eyes trying to figure out what he was doing. She tilted her head and raised her hands palms up. What the hell is he doing? The guy looked down the alley and looked back at her and remade the sign. Schueler shook her head in confusing. She mouthed her words largely. I don’t know what you’re trying to say? Try again. He looked back again and shoved his hands in his pocket and pushed off from against his wall. Schueler blinked as she realized what he was doing. The boy walked calmly from his area and stepped into the street. Ok he’s stepping closer. Cool. But as he crossed the boulevard strip of the six lane two way street. Schueler got nervous. She ran up to the front door and tried to open it. Great, the one day the door isn’t open. Damn you, Verna! Schueler turned around to see no one behind her. She stepped down from the front steps and inspected the area. He was gone! She grabbed her completely thrown off. “This can’t be happening. I may be weird but schizothymia isn’t something that runs in my family! Diabetes, heart failure, alcoholism, sex addiction, but not mental illness!” Schueler held her head and squeezed her temples. She couldn’t have imagined the whole thing she had seen him too many ties. “I guess that good. But do mental melt downs occur often in your family.” Schueler tried to block out the voice. I can’t hear you. And you’re not real. “Hello? Earth to Schueler. Can you hear me?” Schueler shook head. “No I can’t.” She knelt down and tried to block out the voice. She then felt small but firm hands grab at her arms. She looked up and there he was. She was caught between jumping back and standing up. Naturally she fell backward into the grass. Schueler scrambled to her feet and took a defensive stance. “are you a figment of my imagination?” The boy shook his head. “Do I look fake?” He wore the uniform of all the boys on the base, with a few renditions. A plaid shit with the sleeves ripped off over a white beater. His shamrock boxers showed in between his shirts and the top of his long khaki shorts. His white socks and black keds fit together with the rest. 7

Schueler looked him over again. He was the normal in this area, but she we more creative than his current attire. He would at least look like someone from Minneapolis. She kept her defensive stance anyway. “How on earth do you know my name? I don’t even know you at all.” The kids reached into the back of his shorts and pulled out a duck taped graffiti mini notebook. Schueler’s eyes got big recognizing it. The boy waved it back and forth. “You may not know me but I certainly know everything about you, Schueler Alyssa Madison-Edelstein. Do any of your friends back in Minneapolis call you Sam or Sammy? You didn’t mention it.” The boy flipped through the notebook searching. Schueler snatched away her book and smacked him over the head with it. “What the fuck? Gee I gave it back.” Schueler hit him again. “These are my private thoughts. You don’t read people journals. If you find them you return them,” Schueler held her book firmly and felt nausea over come her. She had used the book since she was seven. Three years of data was filed in it’s pages. And Schueler had written everything about her world, her life, and her. Her eyes grew wide as she began to redden. “You read the whole thing?” The boy nodded as if it was no big deal. “The best book I ever did. Where did you get the idea for the girl? I mean sure you fashioned her after your life. But her struggles are really intense. I mean you can’t be older than thirteen. And this is even better that Stephen king. Even without all the gore.” Schueler couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She went and sat down on the steps trying to absorb everything at once without losing her mind. The boy sat down right next to her. She took deep breaths. ‘Look I don’t know who you are or where you got my notebook. But this isn’t some book in that bloody library. This is my life. Well, at least it was.” Sky hung her head and rubbed her temples. “I’m only ten years old and I’ve been to more private schools than I can count. For the past two years I finally found people I could be real with and now I’m in the hick town base with a couple I don’t even remember. Photos they have I don’t even remember.” She bit her lip. The boy hummed softly. “Wow, your life sucks.” Schueler looked up and scowled darkly. “Thank you so much, what ever your name is.” They boy raised his brows. “Sarcasm. Nice touch. And I am Andrew Philip Jackson the Third. Now I don’t like the nicknames Andy, AJ, or Trey. My name is Andrew and that’s it. But can I call you Sky cause Schueler is a mouth full.” Schueler kept scowl and deepened the angle of her eyebrows. 8

“I don’t know you. And just because you read my journal doesn’t mean you know me.” She stood up only to be pulled back down. She looked at Andrew in surprised and tried to yank her wrist from his gripped. “Excuse me, please remove you limb from my person. He only smiled. “Ok. That’s fair. Let’s see. I’m an only child and live with my grandfather. I’ll be thirteen come August. Same day as you actually. Hmm, I don’t understand comics and I hate T.V. I’m home schooled and spend my days learning 24/7. What else you want to know?” Schueler pulled her wrist away as he babbled off on info she wouldn’t even try to remember. “Why are you even talking to me?” Andrew stood up and shrugged. “You said so on the third to last page of your last entry. “If I could only have a friend that wouldn’t base our friendship on what I wear or how I behave. If I could find someone who I could find myself with, then maybe I wouldn’t need to search for people who remain ghosts in my past.’ Very poetic. Did you come up with that by yourself?” Schueler shook her head in disbelief. He had memorized it word for word. He stepped off the porch and headed into the street. “Oh, and for the record. Guy don’t like girls who frown all the time so try and smile at least like every once in a while.” Schueler’s jaw dropped. Who is this dude? He stepped out into the street and slowly walked back over the strip. As he reached the shadow of the corner store he turned back around and stared. He grinned and made the same gesture that had started this whole thing while mouthing clearly recognizable words. Schueler turned around defiantly. Andrew didn’t fit into any of her categories of people, so she would ignore him and hope that in fact he was a figment of her slowly deteriorating mind.9

August 13, 199910

Schueler had been born on a Friday. To her this was lucky; it meant that people would automatically be wary of her for no reason. All she had to do was feed the phobia and go on with her life unopposed. That’s how her life had been the passed ten years. No one questioned her life or made her question herself. Her godparents had given her what she wanted and nothing less. Not that she had been spoiled. No, they just happened to agree to her reasonable request of nondairy items in her meals, and an Internet connection, plus unlimited use of the study. Besides those times, Schueler had kept to herself. She didn’t really get the whole parenting charade Verna was giving her. She didn’t need a mother bothering her all the time. She wanted to be left alone. Which is why she had taken a leaf from Andrew’s book. Schueler, after ranting about being locked out again, told her aunt and uncle that she wanted to be home-schooled. She presented her full plan to them. All she need were stamps and her computer and she could attend school by a virtual means. They easily obliged. Well, Mark did. Verna just wailed about how Schueler was way too young to stay at home by her lonesome. “And what if something were to happen. That Catherine woman might have been comfortable with turning you into a hermit but I am not!” Sky growled under her breath a couple times. “I’m not your kid, Verna.” The petite blonde burst into tears and fled from the room. Her Uncle Mark just tapped his hand against his chair and considered Schueler. “Why don’t you want to go to school Schueler?” She shrugged. “If I can’t go back to my private school then, I’d rather learn at my own pace than be forced to conform to the incompetence of public school students.” She crossed her arms and gazed at her uncle darkly. The man raised his brows and lowered them. “Your mother use to do that. It never worked on her cherub features. But with your angular face it seems very intimidating.” He chuckled and stood up. “If you wish to shy from the public for the time being that’s fine with me. Just don’t be so mean to your aunt. She means well, and we were never able to have children.” Schueler had waited until Mark left the room before she let her pouted expression fade. Then she had raced up to her computer to tell her friends. Most had been jealous, but some like Jael and Forest called her a spoiled snob. Schueler knew that they didn’t mean it but it had hurt. But she had gotten her way. 11

During the rest of the summer, Schueler had searched the web of virtual middle schools in the area. The one she chose required no face-to-face meeting. All she had to do was send in a copy of her birth certificate, social security number, and a current photo. Verna, paranoid to boot, decided that she would carry the items in. Regardless that evening Schueler had been enrolled in HM’s Primary School for the Shut In. Even now one her eleventh birthday, Schueler could barely believe her luck. She had been able to start school that evening. All her textbooks had been available at the library. Schueler just read it and answered the questions online. When she had to write a paper or make a diagram for maybe math, she just faxed it in. She just stayed in her room all day long, except for bathroom breaks and meals, which were short. Schueler breezed through the work easily. And when exams came, she just walked up to the library and was proctored by one of the librarians. By February of ’91, Schueler had passed the seventh grade with flying colors and was a fourth of her way through eighth. She was excited. If she graduated high school early she could et emaciated and search for Catherine and Joe, with out Verna hounding her about letting go of the past. Schueler used that thought as her motivator of everything she did. When I finish this essay, then I can be one A closer to Catherine’s monkey bread. Just one more graph and Joe will be knocking on that door. She had begun to feel as if that was the only way she could pass. Joe would expect no less of her. “If a solider can’t say he’s given his best, then he isn’t worthy of his bootlaces.” Schueler didn’t consider that she was independently forcing herself into an OCD. Al she knew was that any mark lower than 95 was failure. Perfectionist, hell no. Girl on a mission, definitely. 12

July 25, 200013

Schueler sat up as she heard her computer beat. The thick, bedraggled curls of her hair blinded her partially as she wobbled over to her computer. The next assignment from her teacher had shown up. Schueler looked at the message and smiled. She turned off her computer and fell back asleep. He had stayed up late trying to finish her lab report for her science course. The main objective the course was “How does mater and energy move throughout the biosphere?” Schueler had nearly driven herself mad trying to gather up all her passed labs and paperwork to prove her several hypothesizes. She had fixed it over at about two in the morning. Schueler had been so tired after finishing that she had fallen straight to sleep. Schueler hummed into her pillow. Sweet sleep. Mmmm! I love my pillow. I wish I cold just sleep all the time and not worry about school. Or anybody I could just be alone and never wake up again. She turn over in her third stage of sleep ready to slip into the fourth. She rested on her stomach and placed her hands underneath her breasts and exhaled. Then Schueler turned over to her back to allow her boobs to breathe. She lifted up her 3x shirt and glanced at the large mounds of fat that had steadily grown over the year. She now wore a 32 B-cup. Whatever the hell that means. All I know is, I have to wear those uncomfortable cloth bondages. I hope Verna let’s me get under wire soon cause this all cotton bullshit is painful! Schueler exhaled again and lowered her shirt. It felt weird to think about herself in anyway besides basic washing and putting deodorant. This whole puberty thing was a damper in her plans. It meant that her fear were being confirmed. Schueler shut her eyes trying to fall asleep but the harder she tried the move she woe up. She sat up and scratched her head while gazing at the blurry image of her radio. It was six fifty in the morning. The sun would rise in about twenty-five minute according to last night forecast. She stood up and starched her whole body. “Might as well, get up and read what that stupid message really said.” Schueler ambled back to her computer and turned it back on her toes brushed against a cardboard box that lay underneath her keyboard tray.14