Tony walked out of her english class, clutching a copy of “The Princess Bride” to her chest. The hallways were cold, and full. The abundance of students really messed with her. This was much more crowded of a school than back in Idaho. The hills would roll on and on, as if they would never end. It was bland, and she liked it that way. Moving to a place where you wouldn't know everyones name by the end of that day was frightening to her. Tony, a brave soul, was frightened. Oh how comedic.

She reached her locker, retrieved her denim jacket and scarf, and walked out into the chilly weather of winter. Dare I say, a hazy shade? Snow patches were coating the lawn in front of the doors. She wore thick boots, so she just walked through. Her new house was not yet a home, and it was close to this grand establishment, so she planned to walk there.

It started to snow.

She returned to the house within 20 minutes. A townhouse, 4 stories, for only her and her mother to share. She had the honor of being able to own the whole top floor. Lucky her. She pitied people with siblings. The door was locked, so she reached into her pocket, and noticed a hole in the bottom of it. But, alas, her key was still in there. She sighed.
“Lucky me.” she murmured.
Her mother was the, shall we say, blonde type. First off, she was literally blonde, and gorgeous, unlike Winston. Their difference was very noticeable, and most people asked if they were sisters. But, not in the joking manner they use in movies. Gwen, definitely looked like her sister, and far too young to be a mother. It was always a joke in the family, that Winston was kidnapped and that's why she looks nothing like the family. Yeah, funny.

“TONY!!” She nearly shrieked, and ran down the hall to her, arms outstretched.
“Hey mom..” she hugged her, and pulled back quickly, trying not to suffocate in her implants.No matter how much work she got done, she always wanted more. Botox, silicone, fillers. Never enough. She never got old though, must be magic.

(side note: this isn't a magic story so omg okay go away you harry potter nerds.)

“How was it?” she stood, waiting as though Tony was going to spill a magnificent story.
“It was alright, I did neet this one guy..”
“A potential suitor?” she laughed, and lead Tony into the kitchen, litterend with various sizes of  boxes.
“So, I attempted to do some cleaning up and organizing, but it's so hard to move furniture, we’re going to have to ask the neighbors.”
“What do you have to move?”
“Oh, bedside tables, mattresses, lamps, some mirrors...” she slowly trailed off.
“You couldn't lift a mattress?” She scoffed in the most polite way, which sounds implausible, but I mean I would appreciate it if you would roll with it.
“They're heavy Tony, what was I supposed to do? There's like, I don't know, a billion floors in this house?”
“Four, mom.”
“Whatever.”
“God you sound like me in 7th grade.”
“Godyousoundlikemein7thgrade..” she mimicked jokingly.
“Catch ya later Michelle Pfeiffer.”
Winston laughed, and sighed. She loved her mom, but oh my god, was she immature. How her father could live with her, or even marry her, was far out of her minds reach. She retrieved her backpack from the counter, and left the room.
Gwen called from the kitchen, “I love you Tony!!”
“The feeling is mutual!” she yells back from the top of the stairs.”

She goes up another flight of stairs to reach her bedroom, which, now that she was taking a good look at it, it was much more of an apartment than a bedroom. She set down her backpack, and flopped onto the unmade bed. No, it wasn't a bed, at this point, it was just a mattress on the floor, but it was good enough. There were cardboard boxes full of her posters, toiletries, clothes, makeup, stuffed animals, blankets, and basically anything else a girl could ever want in her own apartment. I mean, bedroom.

And, even though her back was killing her, she began taking things out of their respected boxes, and trying to make the new place feel cozy. She played music on her phone, good classics like Karma Chameleon, 500 Miles, You Can Call Me Al, and of course, Avril Lavigne. Winston was a cultured b****, and she knew it.

Later that night, she began feeling better. Posters were hung, the bathroom was decked out, he had music blaring, and of course, she had a Keurig coffee maker on the nightstand. She figured she would at least embrace her insomnia. She sat on her bed, which was decorated with various blankets and pillows from movies, and started on homework.
She had to type a story for her english class, and then she had to start a few things for algebra. It was just simple problems, but she was struggling. She wasn't the best at math, unlike Leviathan, who she had kind of forgotten about.
Winston popped out her contacts and went to bed.

But Lev, oh no he hasn't forgotten about her. How could he ever? She was just so cool, unlike any girl he had ever met. He lied awake that night, thinking of ways to get her to hang out with him. He didn't even know her, yet he was fixated on her. This hadn't ever happened before. Sure he had dated, but girls around here weren’t sane. Weren’t sane enough to be nice to that is, because they couldn't make eye contact without thinking that you were just in love with them hopelessly. Fake people were common, and generally hated. A smile, not a real smile. A compliment, not a real compliment. A persona, just blatantly false in nature. It was late. 10:00.
Leviathan popped out his contacts, and went to bed.

In the morning, there was no sunshine, but sure the sun did rise. I mean, it usually does that in mornings, but not this morning. It was certainly, and most definitely, a different morning. Rain clouds cover what should have had tints of pink and yellow, as though they were patches of racist lemonade. Not mixing, just coexisting. Winston loved the rain, couldn't get enough of it. And there was no sun at all, so the devil's wife was in no danger of being beaten.
(a reference that nobody will get.) Lev enjoyed the rain too. It was a calming, and helped him cope with his mother's death. (kidding.)

No, his mother was just fine, and quite the opposite of Winstons. In all honesty, she was a disappointment and Lev sure wouldn't mind if she was dead. He often comes to this realization, and thinks about her having no positive impact on his life. But, she was all he had. A deadbeat, but a mother nonetheless. She was a woman who lived in his house, he paid half the rent, and the rest came from her zero intelligence fast food service job. He hated his situation, and did not want to end up like this as an adult. He focused on school, and had plans of becoming a teacher. He liked kids, and really enjoyed helping others. And yeah, i'm quite aware of how cheesy it sounds. Would anyone care for some tomato soup along with that line?
(Kidding again.) Thanks ladies and gents, i'll be here all week.

The bell rang, and Tony found herself once again, sitting in the back of a class. With a tattered old notebook, and she was sketching away.
*As the narrator, I could, and totally would tell you who she was drawing. But, that would be a spoiler, wouldn't it? Therefore, i’ll hold you all in suspense. Isn't that so nice of me?*

Unlike the algebra one, this teacher seemed to know what he was talking about. Civics, was an interesting topic for Winston, and she usually liked it. Her father, Stanford, worked for the government after all. He was gone a lot, but came back every month for a week. She missed him, but her mother missed him the most. It was almost like he was dead. But, of course, he wasn't. Her mother worried that he was cheating on her, so she was kind of paranoid. She would stalk his facebook and other social networks, and of course, found nothing. He was a good guy, and had no reason to cheat. But, men can be unpredictable. In the eyes of Gwen, and i'm sure many other women.

*Wow on earth did I jump from civics, to marital doubts? Ey ey ey, i'm too tricky with this writing, trickier than 2009 rap music. hehehehehehe*

Lev couldn't stop thinking about her. He wanted to tell everyone, about his massive crush. But, he couldn't. His friends would shrug him off. Not take him seriously. Oh, Gay old
Levs got a girlfriend? How? And they laugh, like the jerks they are. He really needed better friends. But, of course, he wasn't going to get them. People around there weren't always the nicest. He was sure he was in the wrong place. The wrong state of mind. When you hang out with losers, you become one. But, he wasn't becoming one. Why was that? It confused him endlessly, and boggled his mind to no end. Alas, he was sure it would all turn out fine. I mean, things were going well in his mind. Sure, the rest of his life was kind of down the drain, but at least the purple eyed girl was there to keep him company. And, a wise men say, only fools rush in. Well, he thought, then let me be a fool.

Back to Tony. She was sitting in civics, waiting for the sacred art class. She was looking forward to it, but Lev was kind of shoved to the back of her mind. She had other things to worry about. Like, oh I don't know. Girl things.
*kidding*
She thought of him when she saw him in the hall, but didn't stop to say hi. She was told she had a resting b**** face, but the b**** in her didn't rest much. Not that she had anger issues, but she wasn't always the happiest. And she tried her hardest, but it didn't always work. Correction, it rarely ever worked at all. Ever. And the reasoning for me mentioning this, was because she was scared to speak to people. Scared to make friends. She knew she looked tough, and though people said she was gorgeous, she was also told, by her own mother, she looked a bit down. All the time. So. Y’know. That’s that, isnt it?

Is was chilly outside that day, like I had already mentioned. The air was sweet, and fragrant. Brisk, like iced tea out of a can.
(Who thought of that number? Am I right? *crowd erupts with laughter*)
Winston wore a vintage purple and blue windbreaker, and under it, a grey sweatshirt from a college that she had never heard of. She had jeans on too, bleach washed and ripped.
*like her soul*
Lev, was oh so similar to Winston. He wore vintage and more interesting clothing as well. And, people called him gay, but if that's all they had to say, then he thought, let it be.
*dammit John Lennon*

They waited all day for the class. All day. Lev was a slight teachers pet, and the reasoning being he shared quite similar music taste to Carl. Carl, being the teacher, was the chillest dude you could ever meet. This guy was the real og, hashtag yolo swag kind of broski broseph broham chill guy man dude. He was cool. The students called him by his first name, because that's what he wanted to be addressed as. He was absolutely the most informal person Winston was ever going to meet. And when she walked through the door, she knew.

Soft piano music was playing from a small speaker on his desk. He looked as though Stephen King and Nicholas Cage has a kid. Some people may say he was an attractive bloke, and those people probably didn't have 20/20 vision. Carl Mcallister was his full name, but because of his overall aura, the students were told again and again, to call him Carl. In fact, he was also an author, and wrote a book called, “Call Me Carl.” and its about his teaching career, and humorous stories about what's happened over the years. He was also a rich man. He came from wealth, and his art and books made him money as well. It was simple to say, the man was loaded. He oddly enough didn't look the part, because he was an artist. He wasn't an Andy Warhol, but damn he was something.

She took the seat next to Lev, because it was empty. And, may I add, there weren't any desks in the middle of the room. There stood a large easel, surrounded by beanbags, cots, and cheap Ikea couches. Tony smiled at her male counterpart, yeah I can say that because they were oh so similar, and asked with a smile,
“Is he gay?”
Lev laughed. “Not sure.. Why, looking for a boyfriend?”
“Yeah obviously.” she unzipped her pencil bag and pulled out a stick of gum.
“Want one?” she motioned her hand near his.
“Ah, I can't. Braces.”
“Oh you're one of those kids?”
He laughed. “I guess so.”
She looked away, down at her lap.
“I guess so.”

Carl began talking, and flipped the easel so everyone could see. While the lovebirds were chatting, the rest of the class had shown up. There was about ten kids in the room. So, before Tony, there was only nine, ten including Carl, meaning that now, in the final hour, there were 11 people.
*quick maths*
Carl announced, while gesturing to Winston, “Everyone be nice to her, she needs friends. And Mica,” he point to another kid, a troublesome looking bad boy-ish type,
“Share the watercolor will you?” the students collectively laughed, and Winston just smiled. Clearly she was missing out on some inside joke. This, Mica boy, made Winston uncomfortable, because when he smiled at her, he winked. She never got much attention, so it made her feel uneasy. But, no matter. Carl said some words on what they were going to be doing, and pointing to different topics and notes on the easel. People were copying down some things in their notebooks, so Winston did the same. Of course, she was just writing down what she thought looked important enough. Apparently it was a free form class. There was curriculum to a point, but it was different than any art class she had ever been in. He told them to, ‘get to work.’
“So where do I go?”
Lev smiled. “You tell me,”
“Serious?”
“Yeah, wherever you want.”
She looked around the room. It was massive. Like, the room was HUGE. She took a better look, and there was a hammock in the corner. A hammock. In an art class. Yeah she was going to like this Carl guy.

She and lev sat in the back of the room, at a circle table, and she continued her sketch of the man. Lev kept looking at her sketch. It was incredibly detailed, and if he didn't know any better, he would have thought it was an edited photograph. The man looked sad. But again, his eyes. They were so incredibly detailed.
“You should paint it.” he told her.
“I was planning on it. I thought it was kinda weird though when he told that guy to share the watercolor. Its like he knew, idk.”
“It's definitely a government conspiracy.” he stood up.
“Yeah obviously.” she focused back on the drawing.
Lev left her there, and went to Carl. He pulled him aside.
“Mr. Burbank, what's new kid?”
“Do you mind if I start on an extra credit project?”
“Sure, what about?”
Lev looked back at the table Tony was at, and then looked back at Carl.
“Oh, smitten are we?” he nudges him in the arm.
“I don't know what it is Carl. Y'know, I really don't get it. I literally like two people in this school, and now we’re adding a third.”
“Phonebooks getting crowded.”
“What should I do?”
“Did you ever think about telling her?”
“We just met yesterday.”
“Oh you're an anxious one.”
“Should I like, draw her?”
“Like one of your french girls?”
“You're no help, you know that?”
Carl laughed as Lev walked past him, and into the storage closet. He was looking for inspiration. He thought, what do girls like? They like flowers. They like.. Damn, what do they like? He started thinking intensely about this. Maybe she was a lesbian. Maybe she thought he was being creepy. Or maybe she was an undercover cop. He walked out of the closet with paints and brushes, and sat next to her again.

“Are you a cop?” she asked.
“Funny you should ask that, I thought the same about you.”
They both kind of laughed. What a coincidence.
“So, what's the inspiration for the eyes?”
She looked up. “The eyes?”
“Your eyes.”
“Oh. I don't know, I never liked blue.”
“Why’s that?” he pointed to his own face.
“Well you’ve got a nice blue. Mine are just.. There.”
“Just there?”
“Shut up.”
He smiled. She was easy to talk to. Almost, too easy to talk to. Possibly a conspiracy? No, it was just good old gay Lev, making friends. *for once*
“Who are you drawing anyways, he looks a bit sad not gonna lie.” She didn't say anything for a good 10 seconds.
“My dad, actually.”
“Is it all from memory?”
“Well i’ve got a photo of him, but most is just improvisation.”
She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her back jean pocket, and flattened it on the table. The photo was of a rather handsome man. But his good looks seemed as though they were trying to hide something. Like, there was an underlying tone of sadness.
“He looks cheerful, doesn't he?.” he remarked, sarcastically.
“I know. He’s actually a really nice guy, just hates photos.”

They talked the rest of the class away. The final bell rang, and Winston started to leave, and then turned.
“Got any plans? I know its a tuesday but it might be nice to have some company.”
“Oh sure, would your parents mind?”
“No, if I know my mom, she’s watching Dr. Phil and attempting cross stitch or something.”
“What about your dad? Would he freak if you had a guy over?”
“I don't think so. He’s a pretty relaxed guy. But, he won't be there always.”
He paused, and walked over to the sink to wash off brushes.
“So, where do you live?” he asked, as he was drying them. She had been looking on her phone.
“Down on Fallwood avenue. In the town houses.”
“Nice. I wish I had a townhouse.”
“Why’s that?”
“I live in a cramped apartment. It's just me and my mom but, it’s pretty tightly packed.”
“Aw, im sorry. If you ever need a place to go, our garage is always open.”
“Oh, how generous.”
He picked up his bag and sketchbook. “Ready?”
“Yeah, yeah.” she buried her phone in the back of her bag, and walked out with him. They didn't say much until they reached the doors.
“Lead the way Gasset.”
“How did you get my last name?” she asked.
“Lucky guess.”
They continued down the path through the forest, which lead to the community park in her neighborhood. They made small talk, and shivered as the snow crunched under their shoes.
After awhile of this, they reached her house. Some of the neighbors were shoveling snow.
Winston stood in front, and opened the door.
“Sorry for the mess, we’re still unpacking.”
“TONY!!!” Gwen called, from the kitchen, sounding distressed.
Lev jumped slightly, and was a bit startled. Winston was used to it, her mother and her animated personality.
“Hey mom, I brought a friend.”
They walked into the kitchen, and look over to see Gwen, hand in the sink, and looking flustered.
“Oh god mom what happened.” Tony walks over to her, trying not to laugh. It was comedic how clumsy she had always been.
“I made a cup of tea, because I thought it would be easy, and i didnt know if it was hot or not, so i put my finger on the top and it burned like hell.”
“How did you make the tea?”
“I boiled some water, and then I put in the teabag, and-”
Tony cuts her off.
“The water was boiling mom. That's why it burned.”
She had a look of almost enlightenment on her face.
“Ohhh… I should have know.. Oh god i'm such an idiot sometimes.”
“You're not an idiot mom, you have plenty brain cells, you just need to remember how to use them. Think.”
Gwen looked up, and smiled slightly. “So how was your day?”
Lev stood back, trying not to laugh. She seemed like a nice lady, unlike his own mother. But a clutz, nonetheless.
“Not bad actually, a bit boring but the art class was fun.” she said, as she walked to the freezer to get an ice pack. She retrieved it, and handed it to Gwen. She removed her hand from the sink, and wrapped it in the pack.
“Thanks honey.” she looked to lev. “Oh, he’s a cute one,” she nudged Winston with her elbow.
“Oh thanks.” Lev laughed it off, cause he didnt believe it. He was a right ugly bastard, and he knew it. “I’m Leviathan by the way.” he stuck out his hand for her to shake. She shook it, with her free hand.
“Call me Gwen, “ she beamed. “It's nice to meet you, Tony just wouldn't shut up about you last night.”
“Yeah that's totally a true statement.” Tony chimed in.
“Oh I bet.” he let go of her hand, and shoved it in his pocket.
“Well, i'm going to try to clean some of this up, you to go have fun studying or whatever you kids do these days.” Gwen walked back over to the sink again, with dishes piled up, and they had only lived there for three days. She was a terrible cook, but at least she kept trying.
Winston took Lev by the arm, and dragged him up the stairs.
“She seems nice.”
“Oh she is. I've got the top floor.”
He took a deep breath. “So many stairs.”
“Don't run much?”
“No, it's not a top priority funny enough.”
“Figures.”
“Whats that mean?”
“Nothing!” she laughed.
“Rude!” he laughed.

A few hours later, they had finished homework, and were feasting on Winstons endless supply of coffee. She had a circle window overlooking the sunset. She stood next to it.
“I'm thinking of getting a couch to put here. Would that look lame?”
“Course not, seems aesthetically pleasing.”
“Oh you are so gay.”
“Maybe I am, who knows?”
“Wait, are you actually?”
“Nah I don't think so.”
She winked.
He laughed.
She laughed.
The doorbell rang.

And you would think that that was going to be it. The doorbell rang, and Gwen would have answered, greeted whoever it was, talked about whatever they wanted to talk about, and that would be that. You don't ever think that something catastrophic is going to happen to you.

What followed the innocent doorbell was disturbing to say the least. There was a single gunshot. Only one, and screaming. Winston didn't say anything. Leviathan didn't say anything. They just bolted downstairs, to the source of the sound. Their minds went to the worst, like all minds do. Gwen was lying lifeless on the rug at the bottom of the stairs. Winston fell to her knees, and checked for a pulse. Begging whatever higher power there was, to please let her be okay.
But she knew, in the back of her mind, that she wouldn't be okay. Nothing about the situation was going to be okay. Why wasn’t the door locked? Who shot her? And why?
Lev grabbed her shoulder, and pointed.
A man, dressed in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants was standing. Watching them watch him. He looked nervous. Like he had done something wrong, and he was about to get told off. He looked broken. Like something bad had just happened in front of him. As though, maybe, he had shot an innocent woman whom he didn't know before this moment. He fled the house through the backdoor, out the gate in the garden.
They called the police.
The police came.
The paramedics came.
And Gwen never came back.
Stanford came.
There was a funeral.
A picture of her mother was hung in remembrance.
A picture that Winston drew in her civics class.
They found the man responsible.
He was put into an asylum.
For, he was insane.

And you would think that that was going to be it. The doorbell rang, and Gwen would have answered, greeted whoever it was, talked about whatever they wanted to talk about, and that would be that. You don't ever think that something catastrophic is going to happen to you.