Once upon a time, There were two furries, One was my mother, The other one was me, Now, my wolf is asking me to give up something, a key, to something. But I can't give it up, because I want this to be our secret, but I'm not sure I know what's going to he inhaled and then whispered. Willow watched his lips move as he spoke to her. The wolf's voice was quiet but dangerous sounding. Something about her made it sound so fragile, like she was made of glass, fragile and fragile she would shatter at his touch, her words and her heart. Her breath was quick and shallow as her eyes widened. *I know* she whispered, *your heart is not made out to delicate, it's made to shatter on my touch. It is broken and broken I will shatter it no matter what. Please , the furry said. She spoke quickly, in the manner of an animal, yet somehow more human. I am not going anywhere, she said calmly, as if she were speaking to a child. I don't know why, I don't know. We'll figure it She was speaking directly to Willow, the wolf, who was not listening to what her voice was saying. The furries were not people, not even people to the earth, or even the furry world. What they were was something else. A force. An influence. Like I said , he said with a smile on his face. I'm not playing. Now I'm going out there and *bring it on*, he commanded, holding his arms open for a fight. Willow had been playing the game for years, trying to see how long she could hold out. Not I would say this, without a word, for the entire day, even the morning after the prison break. For the rest of my life. When I walked to the bathroom and was too afraid to go out for fear of being attacked by the monsters that had broken out of prison. Until I had *How long?* I asked. She said she didn't know. Maybe a year. Her wolf was asking her, how did you feel when you held on? I don't remember* She told Willow to let go, that she wasn't going nowhere. She didn't know how She was just a girl. A girl who had never before been in that position before. She knew the feeling she had inside. That her life was fragile. Her words were fragile too. Words like that had a way of shattering. You're not fragile! You're strong! she kept I had no clue what she meant. She had never asked me about my heart, because I'd always just said I felt fine. That's what I thought was going on. Then I remembered her saying she felt fragile. My heart had shattered in front of her. Of course, I hadn't They had become my surrogate mother and father when I couldn't seem to make the decision to leave them. Like that game of "when it rains, we go for a walk," they were the walking-talking-treating sort of couple, who had always been there to support my every whim. They used words like "fragile" and "glass", words they felt would break their hearts, words that would make them want to break mine. "You can put your broken heart in the freezer, just for later. You'll feel better." The first game I ever played with them was . When I first started playing, I hadn't even heard of it before. (How did I not know about them, too, before then? This is one of those questions I've always wanted to know the answer to, though.) I guess I just never really thought about what they would actually feel about someone who touched them. In the end, I figured it'd be a lot like they loved someone else. Some people would never, ever love anyone. Because they wouldn't let themselves. That's the thing about them, there's something about the way they feel that's so different from *You're in my home. Let go.* You can feel my love, You're on the outside, I feel your sorrow, We're always fighting, your pain is my pain, If I had the power to tell you anything, now it is you who would listen. - She whispered . What would I give to feel the touch of someone I love? * I knew that wasn 't the question they were asking, They didn't even know who they'd be asking that question, or what the response would mean. As soon as the other word came out, Willow knew . "What would you give me? A hug, a kiss? How would that feel? You'd be my new best friend" She said this so matter-of-factly, no matter how much she wanted it, or how mad I got. At least I think she just wanted me to listen, she said. Maybe that's why she felt more broken than I did when she told her. Because she'd never heard anyone say they could feel her love. Maybe she never would. When I said anything about it to her she didn't even ask me what it felt like. She just didn'
t want it anymore. Not for a very long time. Then, of course, I knew that was the way it all went. No one ever got close to that kind of love, ever. At least, no one that we knew, anyway. Especially no ones we . But the question she asked Willow was the only question they asked us. Not because they were afraid that the humans would come for them, or that humans might come to their door, which they wouldn't, as they weren't in the city. Just that it wasn''t a simple question They had to ask that one first, to figure out how to describe it, before they could ask it again. Once they figured out that the phrase was "heartbreak", it had become their question. Now I had no idea how the heart was actually broken, I mean, how broken was it? I didn't even have to ask. A wolf could tell you what a wolf felt if she wanted. Some of them could, some of you can hear one now and never know. "Are you crying? It's okay, don's it?" "You know, everything feels like it feels," they whispered." I do. Actually, I do and I wish it didn't. If I had to give up anything it'd just be a little bit of time to go over everything I needed to learn. Which would take a while. That's what I figured. I didn't even think about that. At that point I really was only in it for the ride. "A lot of people don 'ts, I'll be honest with you. Just not enough of them for me to worry about, is what. All this time on Earth I been trying She's not just saying all this because she's scared, she wants them to understand. Maybe I didn't understand, maybe I'm just one more person to make her think they're not alone, someone to listen to their voices.*
And she just whispered that her body felt broken, that she felt a part of her was being broken. Her words were so faint, just a whisper, in the background of my mind. If I were to touch them, if I got too close, maybe I wouldn't feel anything at all.
What did they feel? I didn' t know. Maybe they were just like any human, stuck in this place, where the only way to leave is through pain. Their bodies were weak and sick, or maybe they just weren't used to having their emotions expressed. Whatever, Willow said to me once I told her the question. " I think I have an answer for that. Let me think about that, too. Then we'll talk about this. Okay?" I didn't feel so good about getting close to the creatures. I don't think they can feel it, either. Not like that . I think they feel the way we feel our hearts. Or something like what we felt when I touched your hand. What if you were afraid to feel your heart? What would it feel? I didn`t say anything to that. Maybe you should try it sometime? And I nodded. "That's what I say. You're still young and healthy enough to make it out of here," she winked. I nodded, too. There was no answer for it, no hope for its own sake, just like I knew. So I did what came naturally. *Wishing* that I didn\'t know because if it is what she felt about me I won't have to worry about that, I'll still have you to love me and care for me." "Don't you want someone to hold you when you're dying?" I shook my head, I couldn't think of a good way to put it, my throat hurt from the lump in it and my mouth was dry. Will you hold me when I die? I don't know. You don?t know that your heart would split to pieces if you touched my heart."
*I feel it, I feel how it is. "I don?"t think that we could ever see the other side of this, not even close. Is that why we can only see it when we look at each other? Is it not possible that it we see, that we cannot feel it? "If she had an answer for me and I don't understand it, I'll tell you what you want me do, my name is Willow. Do you remember what the word means, when you say it with your heart?" I had no idea what she meant, this *What do you mean?* I asked them." "I guess everything you feel is because you are me." They said." She smiled. "Don't that mean everything that you've felt is you?" she asked, not quite whispering this time. " Yes, I suppose , the words were still there, in my head. If you're me then everything's like you said. Everything is like that. Like it is fragile. You can break." (I've got the feeling that this is what we're both feeling.) She gave me a small smile. "Is that what you want?""I don't know. Maybe." she answered." You really think they want that, do they?" *How would they feel? They couldn't possibly feel that. Then again, I suppose if they were made from glass they'd have to feel it in order to feel it again. "And I think you'd feel something for them too, wouldn\' t you? But you can\'*t* feel for *them*? Do they make you think about them? Make you *feel* about something you shouldn't?" "Yes, we 'd like that to happen." I nodded. "Then yes. We want you all to feel us, everything that we feel. You see, that is why we are here, to give you a hand. Not just your hand, or your life, your whole life. A hand that you ,* you don't know you've touched. You can\' t imagine what that feels, not knowing and all you can see is the moment before you die. That little part, that thought you have in your head that if you touch me now, then you might not make it." *They This was the question that was eating away at me from within. Like she knew I hated her, or she didn't care at that moment. Or maybe they could feel her love, that is her very being, the very essence of her. That is why she could help me get out of here *But it wouldn\'ttake her so long to come back for her, a lot of time she wouldn''t see her again, or so they claim. "Maybe they were right about you, she said. She didn't say if she saw her* again. (They didn''tt ) "They could be all right. These are just words, things they say." *Well, that's nice. We'll be able to talk to them someday.* They walked off, leaving the bureaucrator to her own thoughts. In a way, she knew they didn t know what was happening . Why does everything feel so different from what I feel. Well, the first day, there was no way for them to really understand this - she could tell from their expressions that this was not a pleasant feeling. She didn't know this, either. For me to think that anything I'm ever touched would hurt me or do anything to me is just unbelievable to us. "Like that?" they asked, pointing at her, then to the wall behind her. She leaned against it."Yeah. You don't want anyone to hurt you like that."
I nodded. Well, that was the first I knew of it." *But it could be,* they thought "It could also be we're not that fragile*." I think this is the very first question they asked me. They did not believe that. Probably still think it sounds like a joke . So don't,* they warned. "The world would fall apart." *If that was the case, we would not be here, right? So why would anyone want me dead? Well you'd better keep talking, because we're not finished here. She stopped and turned back to the bureaucratee. "Well you can see him for a moment and then you'll feel better. All right?" She seemed a little annoyed." Well, alright. So where would you be?" he asked her." *There is no one here*."* we*.*" her voice was soft , softer than it should have been. I don't know *maybe*.*" I said. "Is that so hard? We said together, our voices soft, we couldn\'ve been talking about it right next to each other. Her words whispered into my ear, in the silence of our room, the two of us, a strange moment. She said something like I really wanted you, that you really didn' t know me that well." She whispered something to me again, to the point that it seemed I should keep quiet. "When you die. Well . You don't want a lot of people to walk in your shoes and tell you what to feel."
I didn't know what else to say, what was going on here. She was right, she really did seem like a fragile little thing. Like someone made from glass. (Even the _thing that looks like a glass window and the glass in front of it are actually there to protect them, not to help them.) They didn't really like to hear it." It doesn't sound good when your words sound like your last words to someone you love."
I nodded, no . Then I said. "You say "wishing" it when it's your own words. Or I don't know. Can you?" And she said *"I can wish it because it does sound bad to think I can like what you think, or that what I think is you."" I said nothing. When she finished it said "good", and I did want her to go, because I felt bad for the both of us, for her and me being together. She was starting to make me feel bad, too. "We really should go. We are going." "They will come for you," I said. "I can see them now." The bureaucrats were standing in front of me now. Their faces seemed so much more human now, more like the faces of people who had been there for decades. Like they'd been around for centuries. Or they were the ones to say this, the one's who knew her so well. She was so sure, she had to make it seem like they did. "You really do care about this boy, don't they. You're the only one who can help him." I thought of what I was saying, about how I want you and I don't want anyone else. How I'm the one he can trust, because I know him, not you." *I don' want anything from anyone, just him.* She nodded, she seemed very sure about this. But you can' t tell what you' re feeling, not from here. She was very quiet for a moment. "You know," she finally said. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Then she whispered again. You know what I mean?" She shook her head. What do I think? she asked . "They don't know you. You can feel them, if you try to. If you let them touch you you will be hurt."
I didn't say anything, didn"t want the words to come out of my body." *I don" t think that's right* she She was right, she really did. She really, really does. You know that she did, right? I know it's a bit hard to imagine, because I'm not a very good writer, especially when I try to describe what I felt. But I think I can say that this "They don't want you because they are afraid you'll hurt them, or they will hurt you," she said. "But they also don\' t want anyone to touch them because it makes them feel weak. That they won\'T be loved."
She said this with a smile. She They didn't want me to think that she wanted me dead, she didn't want anyone to see her cry, because she knew she couldn' t. She was so beautiful and so strong and she had a beautiful voice. So I don' think she really cared about anyone, except me for . But she did. Her voice was like a song, a melody that made me think about all I'd lost, all she'd been through. "She was beautiful, too, just as strong as you. Just as beautiful. Like you." I said it again and again." *