On a sunny day three people walk down an empty sidewalk as cars zip by at an easy pace. From the back they look the almost same except for the one in the middle with long hair. However if you spun them around the differences are obvious. To begin with, the girl has long hair left to fall freely down. The dress is colorful and fully expresses her mind. To the left of her stands, or to be more specific hunches, a pale skinned kid carrying a small laptop under his arm. His face is obscured by small glasses and his hair. Last but not least the oldest and most upstanding looking of the three wears a pair of clean slate grey slacks and a buttoned up pure white shirt. This odd assortment of people could be confused as an unlikely set of friends; however that would be wrong. They are, in fact, triplets and through some weird act of god they ended up being completely different in personality.

They begin discussing what to do about this month’s rent. Due to an unfortunate accident both their parents died so they were forced to take care of themselves. The youngest brother hacks for a living, as far as he is concerned it doesn’t matter how he does it or who he attacks as long as he gets paid. The sister works at a daycare center occasionally, but mostly hangs out with her friends at parties and clubs. The eldest is a successful salesman and although he has worked in the same town he has never not sold something he endorsed. This ragtag collection of personalities happens to be living together in a rented flat. And even though the brothers are successful they still find that they’re always short on money.

—————————-Elsewhere, in a town not that far away.—————————-

Sun high in the sky, shining, unobstructed by clouds, upon a girl, the essence of innocence, wearing a flawless white summer dress. The girl strolls down the bricked sidewalk. Quaint shops line the street, as an occasional cart and passerby intrudes unto the scene. Suddenly a clash of red and white meet at where the girl just was. The taller girl, dressed in a red suit and pants, falls down, opposite of the girl in white. The girl in red jumps up and yells out in anger, “Watch where you’re going, you big loaf!”
The girl in white looks toward the ground dejectedly, and mutters, “Sorry.”
The girl in red continues on oblivious to what the girl said, “You need to watch where you’re going! You might have ran into somebody who, not as nice as me, kicked you about!” Then the girl finally looks at the other girl, who’s tears are running down her cheeks and eyes her opened wide.
The girl in red stops, and says, “Oh… Sorry, I’m so sorry about that. You really should look where you’re going, but it really is partially my fault as well.”, she extends a hand, “Here, let me help you up. And I think proper introductions are needed at once.”
When the girl in white gets up, she says, “Well, my name is Celcia. What’s yours?”, as she is wiping the tears off on her dress’ sleeves.
The girl in red says, “Nice to meet you Celcia. My name is Nina.”

—————————-On the side of a dusty road.—————————-

The clouds in the sky are a myriad of shades of bright orange, red and yellow, from the setting sun. Kyuubi and Alec are sitting on their packs gathered around a fire. Kyuubi’s black eyes alight with the fire. Alec breaks the silence by saying, “So, I know you’re no bounty hunter, yet you are skilled with a gun. Maybe you lived in a rough neighborhood?” Kyuubi, responds, “I like you, you seem nice after we had a talk, but the one thing I won’t talk about is my past.” Alec, backs off, hands in the air, “Ok, I understand. Just wanted to get a conversation going.” Kyuubi responds, “Ok, then. How about you, where have you been and where are you going?”
“Don’t know where I’ve been and don’t know where I’ll end up.”
“What kind of answer is that?” Kyuubi exclaimed
“A truthful one. Now how about you, where are you going?”
“Ok, ok.” Kyuubi shrugs his shoulders, “My turn to back off. I admit that I don’t know where I’m going.”
Alec sleepily murmurs, “Ok, then… Well, Goodnight.” Kyuubi responds, later but it seems that Alec has already fallen asleep sitting up. Kyuubi mutters under his breath, “Well, Goodnight.”

On a clear night, the full moon as a backdrop to the darkened sky. A boy and a girl, both fine young examples of youth, parked beneath a yellowing oak tree. The boy whispered softly, “Such a perfect night, to spend with you,” as he turned to face the girl. The girl replied, blushing as she did so, “Yes, I wish this would keep forever.” They both gazed into each other’s eyes, and managed to say, “I love…”, before a raucous noise interrupted their lover’s confession. Light spilled upon the street from a local pub, as a trio of drunkards dressed in the uniforms of the People’s Guard staggered unto the cobbled stones. Drinking songs, horribly mangled, drifted after them, as if trying to bring them back. The couple, spooked unawares, lost their wits, and was unable to escape one of the drunkard’s sweep of the street. The drunkard exclaimed, to his cohorts, “Oy! Look there, at that beute of a find!” At which point his brothers in beer began to cheer cat calls at the girl.

The men swaggered over in the general direction of the girl, their bodies buffed up on ego, the boy and girl started to try and edge away. Unfortunately one of the men, in a feat of drunkenness, pulled a long knife. The knife glistened in the moon light as archaic symbols danced across the blade. The man said, pointing to the girl with his knife, “Now, you girl shall come with us and enjoy a good time,” then pointing at the boy, “and you… You shall go back to your mum, where you belong.” His buddies, in their slurred speech, cheered him on chanting, “We’re going to have a night tonight now… Go back where you belong…” The boy instinctively placed himself between the men and the girl, his eyes filled with surprise as if he himself did not know what he was doing. Another man, pulled a billy-stick from a loop on his belt, started smacking his hand, spoke in a taunting voice, “Now boy, we be respectible men,” his respectable men nodded in agreement, like bobble-heads. He continued on, “Soo me and me buddies shall take this nice gal off ye hands ‘n take her for some fun.” Another man, followed suit, nodded and says, “Yep, sonny if ya know what be good for ya. Scamper off to yer mummy.” The boy unsure of himself, looked back at the girl, he slowly turns his head away and said to the men, in a wavering voice, “N-N-Now, I w-would like you to n-n-know that she, doesn’t wish to s-spend the hours with-th you p-p-p…” His voice trailed off as the man brought his knife up to the boys face. The boy then noticed the fear in his eyes, and then in a state of shock, he dropped to his knees, his head bowed down to the ground as if in prayer.

Under his breath the man chuckled, and said in a whisper, “Good boy, now we’ll be taking the missy and leave you alone,” he reached out with his free hand and grabbed the girl’s wrist. The girl, in shock forgot herself and then started screaming , “Help me! Help me! Please!” Tears poured down her cheeks. The boy hardly registered the voice, just a small twitch in reflex before he slumped even further. The man with the billy-stick knocked the girl on the head with a dull thud, the screaming stopped and the tears lessened to a trickle. One of the men slung the girl over his back, like a bear rug. The men walked off into the night with the girl, slowly fading into the night, leaving the boy in desolation. After a while the blanket of silence was broken when a tear from the boy fell upon a golden leaf.

The next day the boy wandered off towards the seaside cliff, dark clouds hid the blue sky from view. A little while, before he reached the skeleton tree, he saw a shape standing on the edge of the outcropping. As he got closer he could see that it’s the girl dressed in a pure white gown. He started off at a run towards her about to call her name. He got as far as to say the first letter of her name before he watched her figure disappear over the edge. After what felt like hours but was just a moment he heard a splash, as her body sank to the deep. Rain started to shower down as he shouted her name from the cliff, over and over, as if that mantra, chanted, would bring her back. He fell down to the ground, on his knees, his hands laid down at his sides, tears mixed with the rain. He chuckled, and thought to himself, ‘This position is getting oddly familiar.’ He looked up, his face plastered with his hair and his eyes red. A sinister grin worked its way across his face infecting his appearance, mind and soul. He hollered to the wind, “I will find her!” The wind as if in response grew bigger carrying his voice across the sea. He got up, his clothes soaked with rain and tears, and started pacing. Murmuring to himself in a demented demeanor; formulating a plot to fulfill his pact to the wind and sea.

Many sleepless nights later…

Jack sits up right on his bed as a metal tray is slid through an opening in the bottom of the door. “Let’s see what those fat ass guards scarfed this time,” he says to himself as he looks over at the tray and scans over to see what’s left. A hunk of hard bread lies next to a saucer of cold soup steaming. An empty cup lies on its side devoid of whatever concotion that was once there.
He shoves the bread in the shallow pan of soup and leaves it there to soak. He walks to the barred window and watches the few golden leaves fall down and gather with the rest of their bretheren. He absent mindedly wistles a tune to pass the time by as a gentle wind leads the leaves in a graceful dance.

He turns back to the plate and grabs the moist bread. He stares at it in his hand, some of the juices seeping out. He takes a bite and sits down on his bed. He ponders his circumstance as he chews on his loaf of bread. It’s been three days since I woke up here. And it’s always the same. Two meals a day and the same food, at least that’s what I can make out from whta the guards leave me with. He reaches over to grab the bowl and guzzels the remaining soup. Either way I need to get out of here before the corporation finds me… He falls down on the bed in a deep sleep.

He awakes to the sound of alarms going off, echoing in his head creating a dull throbing pain in his brain. He gets up groggedly and stumbles to the red window, catching himself before he can hit his head on the sill. He stares out unto a scene of intense blaze. “What the fuck happened,” he says as a building explodes into the air like a volcano. He falls backward unto the floor, pushed back by the blast. He snaps up when he hears a loud thud. He turns around to see his room wide open. The door swung open by the blast. The threshold opening unto a scene of deathly quiet. In stark contrast with the world above the hallway is barren; devoid of all action. Jack tentativly stands up and walks to the opening. Unsure if this kinda of peace is possible in such a place. He looks up and down the long hallway. Open doors dissapear into the distance. He turns right and walks…

A woman forms from the fog, hurriedly walking down the craggy sidewalk. Hands clutching a small hand bag close to her chest, and her eyes darting back and forth in the mist, she stops. A bird cries out a song, chirping a solemn tune. The woman is searching, for who or what; it seems that even she does not know.  After standing secluded under the island cast by the light, she reaches into her purse and withdraws a small watch. She opens the clasp furtively and checks the time.

A car zips by…

The bird stops…

The light goes off…

People, who are truly free…

Jack is walking down the mountain face, stumbling occasionally over the odd rock. A familiar cool wind sends shivers down his spine as he mutters to himself under his heavy breath,“So the old bitch is dead. Servers her right,” he says as a tear formed in his eye, “Giving away her son to some people in coats. Deserting her only son…” He pauses at a fork in the path and stomps the coldness out of his feet. He continues on the right and begins to contemplate what Sam said. “So they got a new one, eh? Probably did something to make him obey. Messed with his mind, got him by the strings. Kinda feel sorry for the kid, even though he’s the reason they want me dead.”

Shivering as a wind sends an all too familiar chill down his spine he pauses to take account of his surroundings. The barren landscape, a stark opposite of the woodlands he walked through before, is devoid of life. The night is starting to creep into the sky and the dirt feels cold beneath his feat. After walking along this old road he sees salvation in the form of lights. Off in the distance he sees what looks to be a small town set alight as if on fire.

Almost staggering to the town he sees that his hope of a warm bed is lost. The town is a light… Just with the burning corpses of what used to be people. He falls to the ground and gives into the now warm darkness…

Later…

“Where am I now?” Jack says with a tint of annoyance, “Well, at least I’m on a bed.” He sits up on the bed and looks around the sparse room. Other than the bed and a chair the room is bare. He stands up on the cold smooth concrete and walks over to a small opening on the wall near the foot of the bed. He sees a baren ground at his face and a cold wind that rufles the leaves of an old bent tree as it comes into the room, sapping the warmth from the already cold air. He shivers and walks to the door. Locked. Guess I’ll have to wait…

The boy looked up from his cramped position and peered through a crack in the floor board. A snowflake fell down from a hole in the ceiling and drifted down to land upon the boy’s dark eye. He shivered; his rags of what used to be clothing hardly provided protection from the harsh elements. A flurry of snow fell; leaving nothing but an imprint of his body in the dust…

A few years later…

A teenager walks down the street of a large city. People move this way and that, bustling about; each person with a destination set in mind. However this boy is different; he pauses occasionally at stops and glances at store fronts as he ambles by. Eventually, he stops by a mirror shop and takes a moment to get a good look at himself. Wearing dark jeans and a dirty white t-shirt he stands tall, with his back straight, proud to be alive. His black hair sits messily upon his head. A passing figure, in a sea of people, glances at the refection of the boy’s dark eyes and sees the look of someone who has been through much; he reflects that this boy might have an interesting story, but the thought vanishes from his mind as he is jolted back into the crowd’s flow. The boy walks on, leaving the store behind him, and takes a turn into a park.

Walking down the tree shaded pathway he hears birds singing songs to each other. He sees a baby chick and its mother in a nest and stops for a moment. As he continues walking he wipes a tear from his face. When he reaches a field and sees families taking advantage of the clear weather to have a picnic, he mutters something under his breath and turns sharply away.

“Why’d I even bother…” He walks now, with a destination in mind. He moves through congestion of people on the sidewalks; shoving people out of the way gently forceful. The city scenery takes a change for the worse as he turns down a corner.

Old decrepit buildings, ready to be condemned, housing drug deals in their basements. Skeletal kids playing games on the blacktop. An occasional cop car drives by. This is the Outskirts. This is where people who sacrifice to survive live. This is where crime is legal and power is everything. This is where the boy lives.

He walks up a few steps to the rusted iron grate. He shoves a key in and forcefully turns the lock. Slamming the grate to one side he opens the door and steps into the cool shadows. He walks past boarded doors leading to empty rooms and heads up the back stairs. He goes up to the 5th and walks calmly down to the last door. The door is ajar… Someone’s in my room. He slows down and keeps his footsteps quiet. “I know you’re there,” calls out a deep voice, “Come’n! We’re all friends here.” He enters into the threshold of the doorway and sees the man. The man that brings back harsh memories; the man who is his father.

“Ahh… Jack, m’boy. Good to see ya! Been a while since we last meet at the facility…”

“You mean the torture chamber?”

“Now, now Jack. That’s all behind us now. You know the saying… The past is past. The future is now.”

“J-just shut up! I know why you’re here and I’m not going back.”

“Who said anything about going back son?”He gets up out of the chair and stands tall. He walks casually towards Jack as Jack backs off around the sofa.“Ya’ see,” He looks down at his steel watch, “We have someone else now; someone who cooperates. Therefore we don’t really need…”

“Who is it? The son of one of the many sluts you have lying around, ”Jack shouts in a voice tinted with anger,“Or maybe the slut you forced me to call Mom.”

“Calm down.” “Son. Your Mother is a very nice person who gave her life to give birth to you. I won’t let ya talk smack about ‘er,” He takes a breath and begins to speak with a voice less stressed then before, “To business now… I’m sorry son, but you are a danger to us.” He grabs out a gun from his jacket and pulls the trigger back gently. A loud CRACK fills the room and the bullet spins out ever so gracefully from the gun; smoke trailing in spirals behind it. It smashes into the brick sending out little red shrapnel from the impact area. The casing makes a clinking sound as it hits the floor.

“Just had to make this harder on ya’self didn’t ya…”