i

was

okay

until

i

wasn't

anymore

and

then

i

jumped

my

dreams

all

died

with

me

Some evils walk in the dark

Hiding in shadow and quiet

Living life in blackness

Some people fear the darkness

The shadow, the cracks, the spaces

Between what we can and cannot see

These people walk about blindly

Searching for good in the light

When not all of the evil falls in the dark

What if the light is not good?

What if the brightness is blinding?

What if we all are mistaken?

In the end, the hero writes the story

The villain dies, and what you read is biased

Designed to make the winner the hero

The villain may have always been the victim

The hero may be the monster you loathe

Stories are written by the winner

A villain is simply a hero

Who has been broken one time too many

And never been saved

And what, you say,

For those who willingly choose

To walk in the darkness?

Well, little one, who has not

Been pushed into the blackness

And failed to escape?

Just like our eyes, little one

Our hearts have a way

Of adjusting to the blackness

Some are forced into the darkness

Some follow it willingly

And others follow it blindly

How can we define this darkness?

How can we know if we, too

Have been the villain in this fight?

It is the evil we fight

Not the darkness, and not the light

For evil is everywhere

Evil is everywhere, and oft unnoticed

Walking beside us on the street

And lurking in our souls

Take a deep breath, little one

Take a deep breath and search your soul

For you may have been the evil all along

Take a deep breath

Search your heart, and pray

Pray you are not the evil you fear

It may already be too late

There is wickedness in darkness, in light

Be careful, little one, for you may be the darkness you fight

Monte Notaro

My dad wanted me to marry some stupid girl who I didn't even know. That made me mad in more ways than one. It wasn't even fancy and formal like in the fantasy books - you know, prince and princess from two different kingdoms in an arranged marriage. That, at least, would be cool. I'd get to be marrying a princess in some fancy cathedral tomorrow, not in some tiny church that my father had bribed and murdered our way into, with all the risks of the cops breaking in at every moment.

But, no.

She was the daughter of the city's other top crime boss. I was the son and sole heir to the Notaro family business - which, as you may have guessed, wasn't a shoe store type business.

"Dad, no," I said simply. "I'm not marrying some chick I don't know to increase your empire."

My father raised an eyebrow, and nodded his head at the seat across from him at the table. "Sit, bambino."

I sat.

He tapped the table with the tip of his gun. "It's not my empire, bambino. It's ours. The Notaro family has been building our empire for generations. And we've only ever had one serious rival."

He gave me a pointed look. "The Arboledas." I said softly, and glanced down at the table.

My father reached across the table and gripped my chin, then pointed my head up so that I was looking at him. "Take this in," he said, gesturing to himself. I carefully examined the grey suit, red carnation in the buttonhole, and the hat on his head. Was there something different than normal?

"I didn't get to where I am by doing everything I wanted. I had to make some sacrifices. And so will you. This is for our family, bambino. This is for you!"

I sighed. "But how will this fix anything?"

He laughed again. "You are thinking small, mio figlio. The daughter of Arboledas and you - it is the perfect match to restore this city to our control. The Notaro family will rule this city for generations to come! This is beyond perfect."

I nodded sadly, then glanced back at the table. "Okay, Father," I said, and examined my reflection in the polished table once more. "I will do as you wish."

"Besides," my father said with a conspiratorial grin. "I have heard that è brava a fare l'amore."

I gave my father a look of disgust, and then stood from the table. "Buona notte, padre," I said, and walked past my father's right hand man, Aldo. He smiled at me, but it was somehow a sad smile at the same time as a happy one.

"Good night, Monte. Enjoy your last night as a single man!"

I blinked back tears. "Aldo, I can't remember. Were you ever married?"

He laughed. "Once, dolce, once. Her name was Nicola. She passed on before you were born, Monte."

"I'm so sorry, Aldo," I said simply. What else was there to say?

"It's alright, dolce. Your wedding day will be far more joyous, I am certain."

"Wait, she died on your wedding day?" I asked, struggling to keep the shakiness out of my voice.

He nodded. "I turned myself wholly over to your father that day. A forever maledizioni on Arboledos."

"So you aren't upset that I have to marry an Arboledos."

He gave me a sly grin. "I still hate Arboledos, dulce. That will never change. But I will never hate you. You will always be my little dulce."

"Thank you, Aldo," I said softly, and made my way up the stairs to my bedroom.

"Sleep well," he called after me.

But I wouldn't be sleeping.

It turns out it doesn't take too many bedsheets tied together to dangle out the window and down to the street.

I didn't hesitate much, just made my way to the window.

And across the street, there was a girl doing the exact same thing.

"Hello?" I said softly. She blinked and turned, halfway down her own makeshift rope.

"Hello," she said back.

I quickly climbed down my own bedsheet rope, and stood at the bottom of the rope, leaning against the wall of my family's building.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

She smiled and crossed the street to me. "My name is Renata. What's yours?"

"I'm Monte. I'm running away."

"Me too," she said simply. "Run away together?"

I grinned. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"

She shrugged. "I don't care. Somewhere far, far from here."

And that was how I found my little dove, l'amore della mia vita, my Renata. It was weird that escaping one arranged marriage led me to the girl I would eventually call my own. I couldn't help but thank the fates for that. If I hadn't been escaping, I never would have found her.

Of course, I could never tell her the truth about why I was escaping. For all I knew, she would turn me in to my father and I'd have to marry the Arboledos girl.

Renata Arboledos

My dad wanted me to marry some stupid boy who I didn't even know. That made me mad. It wasn't even like I'd get to be marrying a hot prince or Marvel superhero. I'd be marrying the son of a major crime boss in a tiny chapel deep in their turf. For all I knew, this was an elaborate Godfather esq plot to weed out our entire family.

"Dad, no," I said simply. "For all we know, this is a trap! I'm not doing this. And what about Angelo? We've been together for years! I think he's gonna propose soon."

My father laughed. "You're not going to marry Angelo. He's not even a made man. You're too good for him, Renata."

I sat and put my head in my hands. "Dad, I love Angelo."

He shook his head. "Do you even know what love is, mija? Love is more than sex and sneaking kisses under the bridge. You don't love Angelo."

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna love what's-his-name Notaro. I refuse to love him, Daddy."

He tapped the table with the tip of his gun. "I don't care if you won't love him, mija. We are doing what it takes to ensure our family's survival. You are a woman, you are my daughter, and you are nothing without this family."

"Then I don't need this family," I said. "If I am truly nothing without it than I will just be nothing with my Angelo."

My father reached across the table and gripped my chin, then pointed my head up so that I was looking at him. "I am one of the most powerful people in this city, mija, and you will not be nothing. You will not be the bride, or worse, of an unmade man. And I have done everything I can to prevent this terrible mistake before you can make it."

I gasped. "What do you mean, Daddy?"

He laughed again. "Oscar," he said by way of command.

My father's right hand man came to me, and gestured for me to rise.

"Oscar?" I asked.

He led me to a door off to the side of my father's office. He opened the door. "I'm sorry, princesa, but this had to be done."

I looked into the room and nearly threw up. My Angelo's dead body, on the ground.

"Daddy!" I screamed. "Daddy, how could you?" I ran to my Angelo and held his hand. It was cold. Though to be fair, the gunshot wound in his forehead made it fairly clear that he was dead.

"Mija," my father called. "Sit with me!"

I could not disobey a direct order from my father. I left Angelo's body where it was, and returned to the table. I took a seat.

"Father," I said coldly.

"Mija, you are marrying the Notaro boy, and that is that. Do you hear me?" He shook his gun at those words, and I began to cry.

I nodded sadly, then glanced back at the table. "Okay, Father," I said through my tears, and examined my reflection in the polished table once more. "I will do as you wish."

"Excellent," my father said with a conspiratorial grin. "Goodnight, mija, and pleasant dreams."

I gave my father a look of disgust, and then stood from the table.

"Good night, princesa. Enjoy your last night as a free woman!" Oscar said gleefully.

I blinked back tears. "Did you do it?"

He laughed. "Did I do what?"

"Did you kill my love?" I asked, practically shouting.

"It's alright, princesa. You will forget him in no time. He is but a drop in the ocean that is your life."

I slammed Oscar against the wall. He seemed surprised. "Did you kill my love?"

My father laughed from his seat at his table. "Answer her, Oscar."

Oscar said nothing.

I struck him across the face. "Did you kill my Angelo?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry, princesa. It had to be done. It was for your own good."

I began to cry, and released him. "I hate you," I said simply. I turned to my father. "And I hate you! I hate all of you!"

My father laughed at that. "It doesn't matter if you hate me, Renata. After today, you will have your husband to keep you occupied. You will hardly have time to hate me, you'll be so busy with him."

I swore at my father and turned up the stairs. I didn't look back.

"Sleep well, Renata!" someone below called up after me.

But I wouldn't be sleeping.

It turns out it doesn't take too many bedsheets tied together to dangle out the window and down to the street.

I didn't hesitate, and began my climb out the window. We lived on the very border of Arboledos territory, which meant that all I had to do was cross the street and I'd be beyond my father's grasp. Then I just had to find a safe way out of the city, away from that brute Notaro and the monster that was my father.

"Hello?" I heard a voice say. I blinked and turned, halfway down my ladder, and glanced across the street. There was a bedsheet rope hanging out of that window as well. I stifled a giggle. I wasn't the only one escaping. Some Notaro was escaping as well. Probably an unmade man with little time left.

"Hello," I said back.

I quickly climbed down my own bedsheet rope, and stood at the bottom of the rope, leaning against the wall of my family's building.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

I smiled and crossed the street to him. I put a hand on the wall and leaned up against it, staring into his chocolate eyes. "My name is Renata. What's yours?"

"I'm Monte. I'm running away."

"Me too," I said simply. "Run away together?"

He grinned. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"

I shrugged. "I don't care. Somewhere far, far from here."

It took months for Monte to work up the courage to kiss me. It took many more before he had the courage to ask me the question.

He might not have been my Angelo, but there was no denying that he was truly el amor de mi vida. Part of me couldn't help but be grateful to my father for his cruel arranged marriage, for why else would I have escaped and met my Monte?

I would never tell him the reason for my escape. He confirmed my suspicions, that he was an unmade man, and I would live with that. I told him that I had just lost someone to the Don, and I was afraid for my life. All technically true.

We were happy. As happy as one could be, on the run from everything and everyone they know.

I never thought I would consider myself lost. I never thought I was lost. But, in a way, I had been, for a very long time.

I just didn't know it yet.

It's weird how long you can not be okay before you realize that you aren't alright. It's weird that you can be totally broken for days, weeks, months, at a time, and think you are fine, think it must just be hormones, or maybe you're just PMS-ing, but then one day it just hits you - you're not fine.

Just imagine that for your whole life you think you are something special, someone important, a chosen one of sorts. And then suddenly, you aren't. Suddenly you're nothing but a shadow of what you used to be, or what you used to think you were.

That's what happened to me.

Maybe I was never special in the first place - maybe I was never anything more than a dwarf planet in a solar system of regular planets.

I spent my whole life believing I was smart. High achiever, high grades, high test scores. I was on top of the world and nothing could take that away from me. Maybe I had a sick family member, and maybe I had health issues myself, and maybe I had friend problems, but I had my mind. I always had my mind and nothing could take that from me.

Until August. I was sixteen and ready to take on the world. Ready for my junior year. I was unprepared for the challenges that would come that year. I didn't know what awaited me. How could I?

December. I consider ending everything. I'm on the adventure of a lifetime, surrounded by people I love, and I have never wished for death more.

How did I get there? How did I go from being so happy and loving my life to wanting it all to end?

August. School begins. My courseload is difficult. I'm no longer "special." I'm just average compared to the brilliance in my classes. For the first time in my life, school is hard.

My best friend Miranda moves across the country, to California, of all places, and tells me we'll stay in touch, but my world crumbles nonetheless.

September. I do badly on an AP Biology exam, and my parents crack down on me. I work harder. I sleep less. I just have to get that grade up, and nothing else matters. Without my grades, I am nothing. Dark circles form under my eyes, but I keep working.

I wonder, for the first time, if it is normal for a person to hate themselves as much as I hate myself. I ignore the thought, and get back to work.

October. I audition for the school musical. Guess who doesn't get in.

I schedule a doctor's appointment. Surely this much self-loathing isn't healthy. Miranda still won't answer my texts.

November. I cancel the doctor's appointment. I'm fine. I have to be. I don't have time to be anything but fine. I get back to studying.

I do well on a test in Biology. I'm ecstatic, but my parents are less so. I need to work harder, keep up the hard work. An A- is good, but an A would be better.

December. We fly halfway around the world, to London, to visit my dying Grandfather. It's supposed to be the trip of a lifetime. No one says anything, but we all know that the next time we come out to England will probably be for the funeral.

My thoughts spiral in my head and won't stop, and I cannot keep myself from the negativity. I'm worthless. I'm nothing. And I'm so darn sad all the time. There is no point in continuing to live the way I'm living. Every day I wake up and hate myself. I don't want to keep living.

I tell my parents.

I cry.

They cry.

January. I start seeing a therapist. She tells me to think five positive things every day. I laugh. That's a lot of positive things. I don't know if I can do it. She tells me I can.

My therapist instructs me to think five positive things about myself every day. I laugh and then cry. Why am I like this?

February. I FaceTime Miranda for the first time since she moved. She's tan and happy and just radiates goodness. She's doing well. I cry a little afterwards. It doesn't seem fair.

I try to write down ten positive things about myself. I takes me days to make it to seven.

March. I get an 'A+' on my biology lab report. I smile for the first time in what seems like years.

I make it to eight things I like about myself.

April. I go and watch the school musical. It's good. Somehow, I don't feel so bad inside about not making it. I probably couldn't have emotionally handled it anyway.

Nine! Nine things I like about myself! I'm so proud I call my therapist and tell her. And my parents. And my grandfather, for that matter.

May. I have bad days still. I cry a lot. But I look at my list of nine things I like about myself. It makes me feel better.

I go to junior prom. I don't bring a date, but I end up dancing the night away with a girl I'd never met before. She says her name is Ariel. I have a lot of fun.

June. I turn seventeen. Ariel takes me to the movies to see some superhero movie as a birthday present. It's kinda dumb, but in a fun way.

I finish junior year with all 'A's and a 'B' in biology that I'm very proud of. Though part of me is still sad that I couldn't get a higher grade.

July. Miranda flies out from California and we spend a lot of time together, just hanging out. I've missed her.

I make it to a tenth thing I like about myself. I nearly cry.

August. I volunteer as a camp counselor. One of my campers has a panic attack and I'm able to calm her down. That makes me feel a little better.

It turns out that college applications lowkey suck. I call Ariel and vent for a really long time.

September.I finish my applications. It takes over an hour to work up the courage to hit 'submit' for my top school. Somehow I'm scared that I won't be good enough. I can't help but worry. I cry.

I switch my therapy appointments to every other week, which is a thrilling feeling. It makes me feel a little better inside, knowing that I've improved enough to need it less often.

October. Ariel invites me to her house for a Halloween party. I meet a lot of new people, and, against my better judgement, end up having a lot of fun. It's my first time truly having fun with a big group since this whole ordeal started over a year ago.

I audition for the school musical. I make ensemble. I call Miranda and tell her how excited I am to have made it. I tell Ariel and she gives me the biggest hug.

November. I write down a list of everything I am grateful for. It's a long list. Number one on the list: family. Closely followed by number two: happiness.

I call my grandfather every day. I don't know how long we have, so I try to make it last. It feels good to talk to my family.

December. It's weird that it's been a year since I nearly ended everything. I'm still not fine, but I'm doing a lot better than I was a year ago.

I go to Ariel's for a New Year's party. When it hits midnight, she kisses me. I'm surprised.

I kiss her back.

I never thought I would consider myself lost. I never thought I was lost. But, in a way, I had been, for a very long time.

But then I was found.

It's weird how long you can not be okay before it starts to get better. For me it took over a year.

But it came.

It came.

I found myself. And my friends found me. And I kept going. I kept living. And even though I was crying myself to sleep at night for the better part of a year, I was able to be found.

I wasn't valedictorian. I wasn't still the happy and brilliant teenager I had thought myself to be. In the grand scheme of things, I was a dwarf planet - small, relatively unimportant - but still there.

I guess, in the end, that's all that matters. That you're still there.