Violence Doesn't Equal Strength.

I Tended To Be More A Romantic Than A Realist, And Chose Blind Faith Over Cold Logic.

His Eyes Made A Slow Scan Of My Closet Doors, Which Were Cracked. “i Thought I Heard Something.” “yeah, Well, Guess What? I’m A Living, Breathing Person, And Every Now And Then I Make Noise!

Shh!" The Guy Beside Me Hissed Again. "blame Him," I Told The Guy, Pointing At Patch. The Guy Craned His Neck Back. "listen," He Said, Facing Me Again. "if You Don't Quiet Down, I'll Get Security." "fine, Go Get Security. Tell Them To Take Him Away," I Said, Again Signaling Patch. "tell Them He Wants To Kill Me." "i Want To Kill You," Hissed The Guy's Girlfriend.

I Shook My Head. “i Don’t Think So. This Isn’t A Good Idea. This Isn’t Right.” “there’s All Kinds Of Right,” He Murmured. “on The Spectrum, We’re Still In The Safe Zone.” ... “definitely Right. Usually Right,” Patch Continued. “mostly Right. Maybe Right.

I Looked To The Window. Patch Was Gone, But A Single Black Feather Was Pressed To The Outer Pane, Held In Place By Last Night's Rain. Or Angel Magic