beck

This is sams phone" there was a long,heavy pause, and then: "oh." Another pause. "Youre the girl, arent you? The girl who was in my house?" I tried to think of what i might gain by denying it and drew a blank "yes" do you have a name?"do you?"he gave a short laugh that was completely without humor but not unpleasent. "I think i might like you. Im Beck.

That night, I fell into a deep, travel-weary sleep, lulled by the familiar sound of the waterfall beyond the window. I dreamed of the beck fairies, a blur of lavender and rose-pink and buttercup-yellow light, flitting across the glittering stream, beckoning me to follow them toward the woodland cottage. There, the little girl with flame-red hair picked daisies in the garden, threading them together to make a garland for her hair. She picked a posy of wildflowers- harebell, bindweed, campion, and bladderwort- and gave them to me.

He sounded absolutely miserable. __re you ever going to speak to me?

If I only have ten minutes, Sam, this is what I want to say. You're not the best of us. You're more than that. You're better than all of us. If I only have ten minutes, I would tell you to go out there and live. I'd say...please take your guitar and sing your songs to as many people as you can. Please fold a thousand more of those damn birds of yours. Please kiss that girl a million times.

These spider webs are my home now

Lonesome tearsI can't cry them anymoreI can't think of what they're forOh they ruin me every timeBut I'll try to leave behind some daysThese tears just can't eraseI don't need them anymoreHow could this loveEver turningNever turn its eye on meHow could this loveEver changingNever change the way I feelLazy sun your eyes catch the lightWith the promises that mightCome true for awhileOh I'll ride farther than I shouldHarder than I couldJust to meet you thereHow could this loveEver turningNever turn its eye on meHow could this loveEver changingNever change the way I feel

In the cage, you feel loved, not trapped. Just like me.

Where would tourism be without a little luxury and a taste of night life? There were several cities on Deanna, all moderate in size, but the largest was the capital, Atro City. For the connoisseur of fast-foods, Albrechts_ famous hotdogs and coldcats were sold fresh from his stall (Albrecht__ Takeaways) on Lupini Square. For the sake of his own mental health he had temporarily removed Hot Stuff Blend from the menu. The city was home to Atro City University, which taught everything from algebra and make-up application to advanced stamp collecting; and it was also home to the planet-famous bounty hunter _ Beck the Badfeller. Beck was a legend in his own lifetime. If Deanna had any folklore, then Beck the Badfeller was one of its main features. He was the local version of Robin Hood, the Davy Crockett of Deanna. The Local rumor mill had it he was so good he could find the missing day in a leap year. Once, so the story goes, he even found a missing sock.

I didn__ know how I could live with that knowledge, without it eating me up, without it poisoning every happy memory I had of growing up. Without it ruining everything Beck and I had.I didn__ understand how someone could be both God and the devil. How the same person could destroy you and save you. When everything I was, good and bad, was knotted with threads of his making, how was I supposed to know whether to love or hate him?

While I pressed the tissue to my face, Beck said, __an I tell you something? There are a lot of empty boxes in your head, Sam.__ looked at him, quizzical. Again, it was a strange enough concept to hold my attention.__here are a lot of empty boxes in there, and you can put things in them._ Beck handed me another tissue for the other side of my face.My trust of Beck at that point was not yet complete; I remember thinking that he was making a very bad joke that I wasn__ getting. My voice sounded wary, even to me. __hat kinds of things?___ad things,_ Beck said. __o you have a lot of sad things in your head?___o,_ I said.Beck sucked in his lower lip and released it slowly. __ell, I do.__his was shocking. I didn__ ask a question, but I tilted toward him.__nd these things would make me cry,_ Beck continued. __hey used to make me cry all day long.__ remembered thinking this was probably a lie. I could not imagine Beck crying. He was a rock. Even then, his fingers braced against the floor, he looked poised, sure, immutable.__ou don__ believe me? Ask Ulrik. He had to deal with it,_ Beck said. __nd so you know what I did with those sad things? I put them in boxes. I put the sad things in the boxes in my head, and I closed them up and I put tape on them and I stacked them up in the corner and threw a blanket over them.___rain tape?_ I suggested, with a little smirk. I was eight, after all.Beck smiled, a weird private smile that, at the time, I didn__ understand. Now I knew it was relief at eliciting a joke from me, no matter how pitiful the joke was. __es, brain tape. And a brain blanket over the top. Now I don__ have to look at those sad things anymore. I could open those boxes sometime, I guess, if I wanted to, but mostly I just leave them sealed up.___ow did you use the brain tape?___ou have to imagine it. Imagine putting those sad things in the boxes and imagine taping it up with the brain tape. And imagine pushing them into the side of your brain, where you won__ trip over them when you__e thinking normally, and then toss a blanket over the top. Do you have sad things, Sam?__ could see the dusty corner of my brain where the boxes sat. They were all wardrobe boxes, because those were the most interesting sort of boxes _ tall enough to make houses with _ and there were rolls and rolls of brain tape stacked on top. There were razors lying beside them, waiting to cut the boxes and me back open.__om,_ I whispered.I wasn__ looking at Beck, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw him swallow.__hat else?_ he asked, barely loud enough for me to hear. __he water,_ I said. I closed my eyes. I could see it, right there, and I had to force out the next word. __y _ My fingers were on my scars.Beck reached out a hand toward my shoulder, hesitant. When I didn__ move away, he put an arm around my back and I leaned against his chest, feeling small and eight and broken.__e,_ I said.

He was every angel and every devil.