First It was hers. The sketchbook. It belonged to her. Her dad gave it to her. I had a few books like that one when I was at her age. I spend all my time drawing when I wasn't... when nobody needed me. It took away some of the sadness. A gust. The girl lay flat on the floor and the papers were scattered. She whimpered breathlessly. I felt her pain. She got onto her elbows and looked up at the bird. Hovering between walls a little further ahead. It was like something I drew once, but many things were different though. It was ugly. Like a huge bat, but the head and the body were all wrong. It landed on the ground and turned to us. It screamed and glared at the girl. Pink fabric dropped from its open mouth. I looked at the girl. Her pullover was ripped at the shoulder. She was bleeding. The bird had bitten her. I called for the girl and the monster gazed at me instead. Its eyes were intimidating. I looked at the ground. The girl had made it back. She was hugging my knee, looking frightened. The monster didn't scare me. Anger rose within me, warming my face, facets, and fists. I didn't feel angry very often and now the heat spread like a wildfire as if trying to make up for all the silence and covering up. I narrowed my eyes and glared back, clenching my fists even tighter, trying to make a stand. The monster nodded, accepting the invitation. It spread out its wings and leapt while I pulled my right hand back and prepared to strike. It screamed again and shot toward me and I moved my arm forward with as much force as I could. My hand stopped in front of me and I opened it, showing the monster my palm. From behind came years of imprisoned rage in its purest form. Without looking I felt the buildings shake and shatter and bricks floating freely through the air. It embraced us briefly and continued toward the monster, taking the book and scattered papers with it, ripping the alley apart before hitting the pathetic creature dead on and sending its torn body straight through the wall next to it. Waves of excitement and pleasure ran over me and I smiled at the silent alley where papers and bricks settled down just nicely. I wanted to hurt the thing again, but the feeling of the girl against my leg told me it was enough. I knelt before her and cupped her cheek. She smiled back. Her shoulder bled in silence. The wound wasn't big, but it needed treatment. A bandage was required. I knew just where to go. Another brick hit the floor. I looked up to and entire wall tilting. Quickly I pulled her up and started running. The building fell apart and closed the alley behind us. We soon found ourselves back where we were hiding before. The place was still messy. There was blood everywhere. The girl announced her discomfort and we hurried past it. We climbed the fence and reached the end. Buildings had fallen apart here as well. It didn't look much like the thing I caused though. I could see the street through a hole near the ground. It was just big enough to crawl through. I looked back over my shoulder before pushing the girl though. It was the same town outside. It was the same lonely, silent, and unfriendly town. There were houses and probably people in the mist, but to me it was darkness. The silence was threatening. The only thing that kept it from being unbearable was her breathing. Her heart. The girl's heart. I could hear it. The snow didn't fall straight, but I couldn't hear the wind. Only the sound of her heartbeats. That was the only thing in the world. In our abandoned world. Music. I longed for music. Her heartbeats, steps, and breathing sounded like a beat. The wind played with her hair and so did I. She looked at me with her big brown eyes. There was a trace of sadness. Or was it really sadness? It could be pain. I glanced at her wound. It still bled. Slowly, but is didn't stop. The girl would die if she didn't get help soon. The sound of her heartbeats was slowly fading. She needed help. She needed and I was the only one who could give. I had to save her. Somehow. I recognized a sign. The street's name was written on it. I knew where I was. All I had to do was to get her to a place with a first aid kit. The street was familiar. I knew where to go. I took her hand and we started running.
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