I’ve always wondered why things happen the way they do. Why life happens the way it does. Why little kids die of hunger in Africa, why innocent people are forced to live with cancer, why love turns to hatred in a matter of minutes. Regardless of everything that happens, the world continues to rotate on its axis. It never stops spinning. And maybe that’s the only motivation for some people, the only reason they have to wake up in the morning. Knowing that no matter what could go wrong, the earth won’t stop moving. Life won’t stop, and maybe, just maybe— if you’re lucky, things will fall into place. When a horrible tragedy occurs, for some people, the world probably does stop rotating and instead, it feels like its tilting. Like everything that made sense to them before doesn’t anymore. Sometimes after that happens, they’re never the same again. They’ll always feel like their world is tilting.

Janae
Everything happens for a reason, my mother’s voice echoes in my head. Then I begin to wonder why she never tells me that anymore and I stop wondering because I know exactly why. She pretends to think I don’t hear my dad come in at the darkest hours of the night. That I don’t know how he’s screwing around with any woman he can find besides my mom. That I don’t see that they don’t look at each other the way they used to, that their marriage is based on so many lies that I lost count. That I don’t know he drinks every waking minute he gets the chance. My mother stopped telling me everything happens for a reason because she doesn’t know what reason there is for her marriage falling apart. I know everyone has demons of their own that they have to fight. I know that. But my dad hasn’t acted like a dad to me or Macie since our diaper days. My sister, Macie, is much younger than me and doesn’t understand why daddy acts the way he does. She’s young enough to still be saved from the insanity I went through with my parents when I was that age. I’ll make sure the same doesn’t happen to her if it’s the last thing I do. She’s only thirteen, but she’s not totally oblivious anymore. She doesn’t need to experience half of what I did. It’s three thirty a.m. on a Friday night and I’ve been awoken once again by my parents screaming. I was just with my boyfriend, Marcus, a few hours ago. He’s my only escape from this home (I think a better word for it would be hell). I don’t want to annoy him, but I can’t stand to listen to the “I don’t give a s***”, “Leave then”, “Maybe I will” repeated fight I’ve heard a million times before. It’s true when they say adults never stick to their word. I grab my cell phone and dial his number. Marcus never sleeps, so I figure he’ll answer and he does on the third ring. “Hey baby girl,” he said. “Are you okay?” “No,” I answered. “Is there any way you can come get me?” “Of course,” he said. “I’ll be there soon.” He never turns me down when I need him, which is one of the many reasons why I love him. We’ve been together since I was fourteen, making it six years. I rummage around in an attempt to look decent. I put my hair up and grab my bag. Although I don’t really have to be quiet in getting out of the house because my parents are too busy to notice, I do anyway. I silently slip out the door and wait outside for Marcus. After fifteen minutes, I hear his car engine coming from down the street. He stops in front of my house, silently but not. I quickly get in and tell him to go. “Are they fighting again,” he asked? He always seems to have this intuition about what’s going on. He knows about my parents, but I think he would know even if he didn’t know everything. “Yeah,” I said staring out the window, watching the trees fly past us as we drive. “What’s new? I’m scared for Macie. I can handle it. I’m used to it, but I don’t want her to be. I’ll be leaving soon, which I also feel extremely guilty about. She’ll have to be there alone with them. I just don’t know.” He put his free hand on my thigh. “You can’t feel guilty about it. Macie knows you love her, but you have to move on in your life. It’ll all be okay, it’ll fall into place. You’re a good person and should feel the least guilt of everyone I know. I love you,” he said. I instantly feel a weight lifted off my shoulders… for now. I smile. “I love you,” I said back, and I mean it with every atom of my soul. Marcus is twenty and lives alone, so we head to his place. It’s a small, but cute apartment that’s enough. He’s enrolled in college and works at a shoe store to pay off his loans. As soon as we arrive, I plop off my shoes and lay on the couch. Suddenly, I feel a tingly feeling down there and I know just what will help this frustration I’m feeling. “Come here,” I said. I know he can tell what I want from the sound of my voice. We begin to kiss passionately, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered. He pulls off his shirt to reveal his ripped body. He then peels off all my clothes until I’m completely naked, but comfortable. This man is my heart and soul, every piece of me is him. I feel him inside me and a soft and recognizable moan slips out of my mouth. “I love you,” we both say until it’s over and I fall asleep to a place where happy is not a foreign feeling.

Kristen
There’s always that girl you hear about, whether it’s in a book or a movie or you see her on the street and you just know she’s that girl. The girl that sleeps with any guy that shows her the least bit of attention, maybe because she has “daddy issues”. Or maybe she does it because she wants to feel wanted, or because she couldn’t care less about herself. Self-respect is just invisible to her. A lot of people will look at me and tell you that I’m a whore. That I f*** any and every guy, but they don’t see me. My parents never showed me any sort of love. My mom was always with a different guy every night (maybe I do take after her more than I’d like to admit), while my dad was completely absent. The only thing I know about him is his name and that he never wanted me. The closest thing I know to love is f'ing. I know that all the guys I sleep with don’t love me, but I get a feeling they do for the time being and it’s enough for a while, until I return to reality. The sex is empty and exhausting and rehearsed. Every time I hope for something different, but it’s always the same. It’s never a result of two people loving each other like it should be. We meet, he realizes I’m easy, we f*** somewhere, he gets dressed, says goodbye and leaves. Some even promise to call, but they never do. I know better than that. You always hear about that girl that fs the guy the first day she meets him. She’s the same girl that usually ends up with an STD or pregnant. I don’t know if that will be my in future, but I don’t know that I love myself enough to care, or at all for that matter. Some people might call me selfish, when in actuality, sex is my release. You know how you hear about how everyone has a release from their pain, and some coping mechanisms can even be addictive? My coping mechanism happens to be sleeping around. It makes me feel good, and then afterwards makes me feel like s***. I wake up dazed and confused, in an unfamiliar bed. The bed I don’t recognize isn’t the part I’m confused about; as bad as it sounds, I’m used to being awoken in unrecognizable beds. Although this time, I’m lying alone and I’m not sure what day or time it is. I roll over and discover that it’s 11:12 a.m. I look around my surroundings and I also discover I’m in a hotel room. A few moments later, a very attractive guy comes walking out of the bathroom. He’s wearing boxers, a large t-shirt and has a smile to die for. “Good morning sleepy head,” he said. His voice sounds like heaven. I tell myself to relax and remember that he’s just going to want me to leave now that the night is over. “Hi,” I answered. “I’ll grab my things.” I jump out of bed and notice that I’m barely clothed. “Where are you going,” he asked? I look up with confusion. “Can you tell me what day it is,” I asked? “It’s Sunday. Are you alright?” He sounds sincere, but I know he’s not. I nod and continue gathering my things. I stuff my underwear laying on the floor into my purse. “Why are you going so soon,” he asked? “Huh,” I replied? “Don’t you want me out now?” His jaw drops. “Why would you think a thing like that,” he asked? “Well, you got what you wanted…,” I trailed off. He shook his head. “You were pretty drunk last night; I can imagine you don’t remember what happened. We didn’t sleep together if that’s what you think. I don’t take advantage of intoxicated women. I’m Josh by the way.” He looks offended. “Sorry,” I stutter. “I’m Kristen.” This is a change, definitely not what I’m used to. He seems like a genuinely nice guy but I know better. I don’t let myself get close to anyone, especially a man. I know what they’re capable of and I know how they are. A smile appears and it seems as if he’s looking right through me. “Wanna grab a bite to eat,” he asked? I probably look even more stunned because he starts laughing. “You look surprised. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and led me out the door, downstairs and into his beautifully shiny new looking car. On the ride to the restaurant, he tells me all about his job (he’s a lawyer), his family which seems like the exact opposite of mine and what he hopes for in his future. It’s a lot to take in, in one twenty minute long car ride. Just an hour ago, this man was a complete stranger to me and now I seem to know everything there is to know about him. Then he asked, “what about you?” and I know that’s what would come next. My mouth goes dry and I realize I’m not nearly as interesting or great as him. I surely can’t talk about my family, my job sucks (I work as a receptionist) and my future isn’t as bright as Josh’s. “There isn’t much to know about me,” I told him. He stopped the car and parked in a parking space and I realize that we’re at Donny’s. I look up and privately thank God, but I don’t think He’s too happy with me. “Sure there is. I’d like to know about you, but you can tell me about yourself when you’re comfortable to,” he said.