Young Writers Society

“Okay,” Avery nodded shakily. “Come on, it’s not far.”

As the two of them turned out of sight, Sage looked at Izzy.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I have no idea what the hell we’re doing,” she told the others breathlessly. “I thought that, since you guys knew him, maybe you’d have some idea…?”

She trailed off, trying to ignore the helplessness squeezing her stomach. Panicking wasn’t going to do them any good, but what were their options? It’s not like they had an army of people behind them, or even a plan. They were going into this almost completely blind, with only their powers to protect them. Sage scratched the vines around her neck nervously.

Astrid quickly wrapped their bandages over their eyes again, quietly approaching the group. "Maybe we should see what the teachers do. Now that the Adjudicator's gone, they have nobody to take orders from... maybe we all can just go home now? They can just say the project was a bust and all that stuff." It was clear that she was just trying to cheer everyone up, but even they wanted to believe themself for a moment. Even if they weren't on great terms with their parents, they would happily go home in a heartbeat.

Izzy sighed heavily. "I guess? I dunno, everything's so up in the air right now..." Then, she remembered the little girl on her back. She gasped, then Astrid shushed her. "Winnie! Why don't you go find your brother? He'll talk to you more than any of us?"

"I doubt it," she mumbled. "I don't even know where he is. What if he does something?"

"Well, um..." Izzy scanned the group. Unfortunately, her eyes landed on a slightly uneven paintjob on the wall. "Oh, God..." she groaned, slowly putting Winifred down. She pointed at Evan. "You know that color-changing asshole?" Winnie nodded. "Yeah, he can follow you around to make sure you don't get caught."

Izzy stared right at Evan. "Oh, also, if she ends up hurt at all, your fate's gonna worse than the Adjudicator's. I can promise that."

Dawn and Avery arrived on the roof simply. Dawn was sure to cover the door in vines, so nobody could join them. The garden was still the same. Same views, same plants. A few of them seemed to brighten up at Dawn's appearance, but some withered and crippled. The plants were conflicted about what to do in her presence. Some grew brighter and taller than they'd ever been, some dropped and shrunk like never before. Quietly, Dawn set down her mother's wheelchair in front of her. It sat there, empty. There was a groove from where her mother sat, a few accesories she'd given it... some of the roots from their last encounter were still stuck in the wheels.

It was so strange being out in the garden again... the last time they were there, Dawn had learned that maybe all that stuff on her arms wasn't a sign of love.

Did her mother love her when she died? Were one of her last thoughts I love my daughter?

That triggered her once more, causing Dawn to crumble to her knees as her legs gave out. Sobbing and sniffling mixed with each other, but out in the open air, it was much more apparent how much she was dying to wail fully, practically screaming when it got really bad. She just didn't understand. Why now? Why was she so conflicted on every little thing? Why couldn't she choose if she loved or hated her mother? Why did it hurt so much that she was gone?

Dawn wrapped herself in the cardigan and reached for the wheelchair. All she could do was fold her arms and rest her head on the seat, unable to will herself any farther. The chair was so cold without her mom there. She must've been dead for a while.

Avery could do nothing as Dawn broke down in tears. Every little cry pulled at her heart in a way she knew she couldn't help. No matter how soothing her tone was or how fluffy and nice her words were, there was nothing that could stop the ache of grief. But, in the end, was that really a bad thing? If losing someone you love didn't hurt, were you even human?

Avery lowered herself down beside Dawn, crossing her legs as she sat in the garden's overgrown grass. Patches of it grew and died, grew and died, forming hypnotic waves of green. Avery lifted a hand to rub Dawn's back, tucking the other under her leg to keep it from shaking. The image of the Adjudicator's open, empty eyes flashed through her head. The thought of it turned her nerves to Jell-O. She had to take a deep breath to make them solid again.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.


"I'm well aware of that, Izzy," Evan answered grimly. "This isn't the first time you've threatened me, you know."

"Will you two ever stop fighting?" Sage demanded. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her temple with one hand. "Everything that happened in the arena is so far behind us now. You need to let go. Seriously."

Izzy simply rolled her eyes. "Yada, yada, yada. I get it. I'm bad at words and hold grudges and can't do anything without poor little burned-my-face-off-Sam being brought into everything. Just-" Izzy rubbed one of her temples, grunting as she tried to articulate her feelings. Bitter and biting words were much easier to tell people, and more people tended to listen. "I... I care about Winifred, I guess. She's important to me. Make sure she isn't hurt." It physically pained her to try and change her dialect so much. "I don't... I don't know how else to say it. Is that good enough for you?" Izzy glared at Evan, then caught herself. "I meant: Did I say that... okay?"


Eventually, Dawn's cries would devolve into weak whimpers and hiccups, and eventually, she brought her head up. The results of her ugly-crying were written clearly all over her face and sleeves. What was she supposed to do with herself? Her entire world was shattered already, but now something had stepped and crunched it into nothing. It was horrifying. She had to be someone on her own, no path set out for her. It was terrifying, being so cosmically alone.

"I'm sorry."

Dawn sniffed as she looked over at Avery. Her gaze wasn't fully there for a moment, but Avery's kind features woke her from her crippling grief and depression for a moment. Maybe she wasn't completely alone, feeling her hand run up and down her back. Maybe somebody else was out there in the universe. Maybe she could almost forget the pain in her chest when she stared into Avery's kind brown eyes. A patch of small, purple rose buds grew around the dark-haired girl.

Dawn smiled. The curve of her lips was as delicate as an ice sculpture, ready to fracture at any moment. "You've talked about your mom before," Dawn whispered, her voice hoarse. A sunflower had began to sprout beside her, amongst the dying grass and mournful, drooping flowers by the wheelchair. "Can you tell me more about her? Is she nice?"

"Yeah," Avery's expression grew wistful, and her eyes became unfocused as she stared at a point somewhere over the walls. "She's one of the kindest people I've ever met. Artistic...she likes to paint. Mostly landscapes, and not anything super detailed. Just enough for you to know what the picture's of. The rest is up to you. You should see her when she paints--I've never met anyone else so calm and focused."

She paused, blinking slowly as she came back to Earth. "I wonder what she's thinking about right now. Is she worried about us? I don't think she knows about the whole...situation, so maybe not. But she's always had this sort of...intuition, you know? She could tell when bad things were about to happen. That's what got the three of us away from my dad alive."


"Yeah," Evan nodded slowly, deliberately. He was afraid he might do something to set her off. Izzy was like a ticking time-bomb--any little thing could make her explode. But, to be honest, he didn't blame her. She'd been through a lot. "You don't have to be, like, super nice or anything. Just...maybe cut back on the death threats? Please?"

Dawn's smile slowly began to foritfy itself when she heard of her paintings. She even chuckled at one point. "I... I think I like her. My mom always loved art and going to galleries. She never really enjoyed it, persay, but she liked challenging herself to do so," she sniffed once again, rubbing the threads on the caridgan. "M'think she said something like: it's amusing to make meaning in the meaningless. I mean, c'mon! He drew a tree... but then I start looking at it, and I know I can give it some kind of purpose. How do you think I was able tolerate all those little drawings of your's on the fridge?" Dawn chuckled sheepishly, though to no avail. Something in her was just gone. The silliness, the shyness, the awkward giggles, the very light in her eyes wasn't there anymore. Maybe for the better, maybe the worst. At least her hair was beginning to grow back.

Dawn picked at the grass, now calm as it moved in the breeze. "I'm glad you got a good mom... Do you think she'd like me? Your mom, I mean," she said, "She seems nice, but I just want to make sure."


Izzy looked at Evan with a strained look. "I'm just... Not good with nice words. Mean stuff is more familiar. Even when I try to be nice I sound like a dickhead. I'm trying to stop it, but like, it's kinda hard to change the way you've spoke since forever." Izzy then rubbed her neck, scratching part of the burns that escaped her face. "Doesn't help I'm pretty defensive of my friends... I act out a lot of what I say."

Evan opened his mouth. "I--"

"I know I started this heart-to-heart, but can you guys speed it up?" Sage cut in suddenly. She bounced nervously from foot to foot, vines still crawling up her neck. They were tangled in her hair now. "We're losing time!"



"She'd love you," Avery squeezed Dawn affectionately. "You two would get along great. She's quiet, like you, but in a more...relaxed sort of way. Heh."

She laughed, a little nervously, at her own joke.

Izzy shrugged. "You started it. At least I deal with the consequences of my actions, gracefully or not." Izzy crossed her arms and glanced at Winifred. "But she's right. You two go track down Powder. Sage and I will... do... something."


Dawn's hand shakily reached for Avery's, content to hold her in any way, shape, or form. Her body start scooting closer to her's as the wheelchair began to be locked away in root. Ever present, kept safe and preserved in weathering conditions. It was the least she could do. Soon enough, Dawn's head found it's rightful spot on Avery's shoulder. "I'm... glad." She was more than glad, she was ecstatic! It was simply difficult to express such elation after everything.

"Do you think she'd like... us?" she asked, earnestly. It's not as if she was entirely used to the idea that someone could have a parental figure so... good. It was the stuff of dreams to imagine it, but how would Avery be Avery without that type of love? Who would Dawn be without her mom? Thoughts sprialed up and down like this constantly. At least there was a slight distraction nearby. Speaking of... "What even is 'us?' I like you, you like me... but..." Normally, she'd be intensely shy about everything relating to their affections, but normally her mother wasn't dead and most sense and emotion had already been drained from her. She looked at Avery with only a slight tinge of cherry on her cheeks.

"Well, she was really supportive of Evan," Avery rested her cheek on top of Dawn's head. "Got him everything he needed to feel more like himself. Although I always wondered what she thinks when she sees him...he was sort of the driving wedge between her and Dad. But now that Dad's out of the picture, I doubt she'd disapprove."

She paused thoughtfully. "I suppose we never made it official, did we? I think we should. I think that'd be good."



Evan nodded, turning down the hall as Winnie led the way to her brother. Sage looked at Izzy, opened her mouth to argue about 'consequences', and then shut it again.

"What do we do?" she asked the speedster instead. She was trying to be less incendiary, after all. Fighting wouldn't make things easier, no matter how much she wanted to do it. There were better people to grapple with than Izzy.

"Really?" Dawn asked as she situated herself under Avery. "Does he... know that? I've just never heard you really talk about him back then. You don't have to. It's probably a weird question."

Then, Dawn stared up at Avery, her eyebrows high. She hummed, then gazing at the empty wheelchair, covering in root, vine, and small blossoms. "Weird," she mumbled, "I got a girlfriend the same day my mom dies." She was motionless for a moment, then, shyly, she huffed. "Maybe that's for the better. I think my mom would've... been apprehensive about it, to say the least. I can already hear her now. You? Dating a girl? The thought of someone dating you is already ludicrous enough, but a girl? Well, I suppose that makes sense for you," Dawn mimicked. Despite her words, she was smiling. "Something like that."

"But," she started, nervously rubbing her thumb against Avery's hand as her heartbeat shot up, "I really am happy. I think. My feelings are kinda all over the place, but I'm pretty sure I'm happy." She glanced up at Avery, "Are... you happy? With this? Well, not all this, but... us, I guess?"


Izzy shrugged, "Don't ask me. We could always tail them, make sure they don't get hurt. Or we could go speak to the staff, see if they're gonna do anything about it. They might make an announcement, or maybe they'll want everyone to cover it up. Maybe... maybe we could convince them to let us go? No Adjudicator, might as well shut down the operation, right?"

Avery smiled in a sorrowful sort of way. “Life has a funny way of balancing out like that. Lose a mom, gain a girlfriend. Lose a dad, gain a brother.”

“Are you happy?”

She lowered her head. “I don’t know. I’d like to think I am, but in reality I don’t know where any of this is going. That uncertainty…it makes it hard to think about anything else. But I’m definitely happy about us. Us feels good.”


“I think we should do that,” Sage nodded. “The staff thing. It’d make everything a whole lot easier if we could get them on our side. Evan and Winnie will be okay until we get back.”

Izzy nodded. It seemed as simple as that. They'd pretend they hadn't seen anything and act so innocent and ask the teachers what they would do. "You realize I'm still here, right?" Astrid said, suddenly. "Should I just join in on the fun or what? I could follow Evan, if you want. Double protection?"

Izzy stared down at Astrid, once again glancing at Sage. "I honestly don't care what happens to the blind kid," she said bluntly.


Dawn easily caught the sad smile across Avery's face. She returned the same depressed look. She was right about something, though. Uncertainty was the biggest enemy right now. Where was Powder? What were the teachers going to do? Was the fight over? Would they go home? Were they trapped indefinitely?

Dawn took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She stared at her mother's wheelchair as if it were her gravestone. In a way, maybe it was. The chair slowly became covered in white lilies and roses as Dawn inhaled again. When she sighed, she looked up at Avery. "I... I think I've got a plan," she stated. "I'm finding a way out of here, no matter what it takes. I'll tear down that wall if I have to. And... And when this is all over, than I'll grieve and cry and probably a lot of other gross stuff, but I can't right now. There's... that uncertainty... and I've been so uncertain all this time. I need to just focus on what's happening and stop being such a crybaby for just a second."

When she finally got everything off her chest, she glanced at Avery. "But... I'm happy about us, too. Really happy? I dunno. I'm sorta trying to block out any big emotions right now, otherwise I'll probably just... uh, ya know, do what I did a little bit ago. But..." Dawn always struggled but her true feelings into words, so, when she left Avery's hold with some cherry stuck onto her cheeks, she simply pecked her on the cheek. Hopefully that was explanation enough. It wasn't even that, really. Moreso Dawn quickly tapping Avery with her lips.

"Yeah," she mumbled, instantly nervous and certain she made everything worse in that simple motion. "We should get going," she said, awkwardly moving away from Avery's safe grasp. "Some people out there probably want to see us. I dunno. Maybe not. But, um, I'm ready to start moving on, a little."

Avery nodded, her cheeks turning red where Dawn had kissed her. She pulled herself to her feet, brushing a few stray bits of grass from her sweater.

"Alright then," she took Dawn's hand. "We've got a job to do."


"Why don't you come with us, Astrid?" Sage offered. "The more people Evan has to keep track of, the harder it's going to be for him to keep everyone undetectable. Plus, the teachers are more likely to believe our story if there's more of us, right?"

Dawn nodded at Avery. It was a familiar motion but something was off about it. Something was off entirely. The death of her mother shut her down completely, and she wanted it that way. Right now, a catatonic state might make her a better friend to Sage and Izzy. Besides, if she fully realized the situation, well... Dawn was actually quite surprised nobody woke up from how loud she had been wailing. She couldn't allow herself to grieve and cry anymore than she had through her entire friendship.

So, she took Avery's hand with an soft and empty smile. Anything more would break her in two. She walked down the stairs calmly, easily able to rejoin the social world as a silent thing that sleptwalk through everything from now on. The most emotion she showed was when she yawned loudly after their descent.

Astrid looked at Izzy and Sage, "Well, got nothing better to do, I guess. Who should we ask? Or, I guess when is the better term."


Winifred occasionally glanced up at Evan- Who am I kidding? She was practically watching him the entire time! Her eyes never waivered in their fear, but there was a hint of curiousity as she looked him up and down from time to time. "Why do you and Izzy hate each other?" she said, bluntly. At least she was direct.

"I ruined one of her shirts," Evan answered simply. "Everything just kind of...escalated from there. But I...I don't hate her. And I hope that--" he paused to collect his words. "I hope that she doesn't hate me as much as she lets on."


"Dr. Emily?" Sage looked at Izzy for confirmation. "He's...honestly the only person I can think of. He always seemed...not mean, at least. Logical. Maybe he'd help us?"