My finger glides along the bottom line of each sentence. It's something I've done since I was little, I guess it's always just been a force of habit I could never shake. The handwriting is childish and rushed, but the words seem like something a normal adult could be capable of writing. And then of course it's in purple sparkly ink.

Better safe then sorry I guess,

What's the cure for a scraped knee or busted lip?

Where do you go to prevent red X's on your eyes,

And who could have these cures?

Ok... So whoever wrote this must have had a traumatic thing I helped out with. Maybe Lotor? Or Adam? But then again I don't think Adam would use sparkly anything, Lotor probably would but he has way better penmanship.

I think I have this whole mystery game figured out:

When I find a treasure I get a clue, the clue leads me to a new treasure with a letter from the treasure holder (the person who represents the treasure) and the next clue. If I'm understanding this correctly... each treasure ties into a part of their past that I helped with in a way. I don't know how many treasures are hidden so I can't make a list of the people I'm looking for but maybe I can use a process of elimination method.

I'm making this complicated.

I get up from my spot on the ground, slamming the journal to a close and swinging my drawstring off my back. I open it up to slide the journal in and pull the map back out. 

I hold it in one hand as I secure both strings around my shoulders and wipe the dirt off my ass. 

The map unfolds and I scroll across the markers, maybe something will catch my eye? Red X's on  your eyes... isn't that a reference to a cartoon or something?

Like Tom and Jerry? That was a good cartoon. Or Roadrunner and Coyote... it's kinda weird I know these old shows but the violent ones are way better than the crappy Disney Jr. shit they make kids watch these days. I mean the racism that you can find in some older shows isn't really a good part but the explosives and stuff make the shows way better... even original Mickey mouse was better than the modern one.

Ok I'm getting off topic. 

My eyes keep wandering over the page, determined to find any clue or sign to what the riddle could mean. Maybe I could ask someone?

Ughhh... Social anxiety better be good to me today.

I look around and find a person in line for the bathroom, my legs slowly carry me over to a guy that looks maybe a little younger than me.

He has green eyes and skin maybe a little paler than mine. His cheeks are dotted with freckles that look symmetrical on both sides and his hair's green with black undertones. My legs carry me over to him against my brains will and I try to get his attention.

"Umm... excuse me?" I step next to him and lean in a little so he knows Im talking to him. He doesn't notice at first so I ask again and wave my hand in front of his face.

"Huh? oh... hi." He shakes his head from his daydream and looks over to me with a smile. I don't return it but I look down at my map to show that I wanna ask a question.

"Hey... so do you have any idea what this riddle could mean?" I go to get my journal out and open up to the first page to hand it to him. He looks at my hand but doesn't take it.

"Are you Keith by any chance?" My eyes probably bulged out of my head. I had to restrain myself from pulling out my knife and demanding answers from this guy.

"Who are you and why do you know my name?" My voice didn't shake but I was careful with my words and spoke them stern.

"Oh! I'm sorry, my friends call me Deku and I apologize but people might not answer you anywhere in this festival." I raise an eyebrow but he doesn't take notice so I just ask another question.

"Why?" He gave me his full attention and used his hands to illustrate his thoughts.

"Well, when everyone got in they were told not to tell a 'Keith Kogane' any answer to the riddles he's given." EVERYONE?!!? Damn Pidge really didn't want to make this easy for me... but easy isn't fun and they know I like a challenge. They're thorough I'll give them that.

"Ugh! Pidge thought of everything!" He just stared at me and then I realized that 'Deku' probably had no idea who I was, or Pidge for that matter.

"Hey can I see that paper real quick?" I look at him questioningly but hand it to him anyways. His eyes scan the words and he rereads them a few time then his smile grows and he looks like he's about to laugh. 

He pulls a red sharpie out of his pocket and hands it to me along with the journal. 

"Maybe try drawing a red X and turning it to see what shape it makes," a little laugh escapes his lips and he moves forward in the line.

"Ok... thank you- WOAH DUDE WHY ARE YOU CRYING?" AGHHH emotional situation! Evacuate! 

"I'm j...just so h... happy for you!" His smile never leaves and his tears pour down his cheeks. It's nice he cares that much about a stranger but this is freaking me the fuck out.

"Ok then... I'm just gonna go over here..." I point behind my shoulder and power walk away. 

I lean against a tree and uncap the sharpie with my teeth. I draw the X on my wrist and turn it. A plus sign... a red plus sign...

American Red Cross! The medical tents!

That's where the clue leads me! Doctors have the cure for a lot of stuff and medical supplies in case you hurt yourself.

I recap the sharpie and put it in my back pocket. Then I run to the spot on my map where the medical tent is.

A few people I passed yelled "Run Forest Run" but I ignored it because that's all people would say in high school and I'm just used to it by now. As I ran my shoe lace caught on a rock and I tripped resulting in my elbow starting to bleed... so it's a good thing I'm going to the tent.

As I approached the tent, some of the medics looked alert so I started slowing down and went over to one of them.

"So this might sound weird but I was told that there would be something for me over here. My names Keith by the way," I squirmed at the blood running down my arm but other than that it didn't really bother me.

"Hey Keith! Yeah let me grab it real quick." She went into one of the tents and came back out with a small purple bag filled with a lavender shade of tissue paper. She was also holding wet wipes which are probably for my arm.

"Here you go! I guess your present will come in handy now, Happy Birthday!" She sauntered off towards a few of her colleges and I called out a thanks to her which she returned by whipping around and sending me a thumbs up.

I turned my attention back towards the bag and wipes. I carefully dapped it on my cut and scrubbed the drying blood off my lower arm then glanced towards the bag.

Curiosity killed the cat... good thing I'm not a cat or I would have been dead a long time ago.

My fingers work their way through the knot of the ribbon and I manage to undo it, the violet strip restlessly fights the wind as I try to sift my way through the tissue paper. As I'm searching my knuckles brushes us against something and I pull it out.

A box of Pusheen Band aids.

I dump the rest of the paper and find the note and next clue.

Before reading the note I open the box of bandaids and try to find which one I want to use. I look through the box and find one with red sharpie on it saying "Take Me" so I do. I unwrap it and it has a birthday pusheen eating cake, perfect.

I stick it to my elbow and begin reading the note.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Flashback)

I throw my backpack into the closet and dramatically fall into my desk chair. I never want to go to 7 classes back-to-back ever again.

My eyes slowly fall to my homework on the messy desk. Papers from who knows how long ago, making their homes in the confines of my bookshelf. College is a pain in the ass, but then again it's supposed to get me a decent job.

I sigh and bury my face into my arms propped up on my desk. I just want to go to sleep forever but then I'd miss so much... I guess I just wish school didn't exist.

Yep... that sounds about right.

I pull my phone out of my bag and turn it back on, the teachers usually going insane if you're phone is on... especially during a lecture.

The little intro thing plays like every other time I turn my phone back on and right when I get on I'm greeted with a message from Romelle.

She sent it to me right after I turned off my phone to remind me about our meeting today. Like a friend meeting, not a business meeting thing.

I scroll through my itunes and pick a playlist that I haven't listened to in a long time. Twenty One Pilots first album, my favorite song in that album? Definitely Addict with a Pen.

I let the TØP live it's life one album at a time while doing my homework... maybe I threw in a little Fall Out Boy and Panic! in there but you can't judge me for that.

At around 5ish I went to grab my keys and started driving to Romelle's place. She told me to meet her at her girlfriends house. I've never been there before because apparently her girlfriend can be a little "overprotective," Romelle's word not mine.

The drive takes about an hour, I always play chill mixes when I'm driving because I have driving anxiety and they help keep me relaxed. I usually play the same things or find a new one if im in the mood for something a little different. Right now im on a road with very few people so I decide drive with the window rolled down. It's warm so I take off my signature red jacket and continue driving. 

At around 6 I arrive in the town. The sun is half set and it would probably only take another half hour for it to be dark. 

The town is small and not well known unless you live there or in the city that I'm living in. The neighborhoods are crawling with drug dealers and criminals, you can basically smell the metallic stench of blood probably being soaked up by all the dehydrated grass. 

I pull in at the curb of a pedway and jump out to walk. I take a few steps before I hear yelling and screams from a house in the direction of Romelle's girlfriends. Coming from someone who's only been to this neighborhood a few times I can tell it's not a good one. A lot of crimes are committed and it's not necessarily safe. 

I step closer, my feet move quicker but I make my body seem lighter so I don't draw attention to myself. As I approach the house the sounds get louder, and I run up to the window on the side of the house. 

As I lean my back on the wall I glance over to the sidewalk and a teenager walks by, their eyes flicker towards the house and a guilty look settles into the crevices of their features before they keep walking. I know that in this town people don't get mixed up in other peoples business if they know what's good for them... you can't play hero and in a world full of villains.

I peer through the murky window and I can see the kitchen. In my view I can make out an archway opening up the kitchen to the living room, a couch and a small morning dining table. It kind of reminds me of a home Romelle and I had to stay in once for a few weeks. The tiles of the floor are chipped, the wood is splintered, and there's... blood.

Fresh blood and old blood... there's just lots of blood stains everywhere. As my eyes scatter in a chaotic fit of unbelief and my ears settle on the sound of a loud thump. Then long blonde hair appears on the floor in the archway. My arm raises behind me and grabs my knife, my ears flinch at the sound of glass shattering and more screaming... that's when I make my move.

I didn't have time to go through the front door so I just threw my bare elbow into the glass window. Chunks of glass embedded themselves into my skin but I was so high on adrenaline I didn't care.

I stood on a potted plant and hoisted myself through the window. When I jumped down from my perch on the counter I booked it through the archway and down the hall, the blonde hair now gone and replaced with a trail of blood leading to a bedroom. 

The door is closed but I can tell it's a bedroom because I know the layout of the houses around here. I use my good elbow to break down the door but it doesn't budge so I run back into the kitchen and grab a wooden chair, throwing it at the door. 

That opened it.

I rushed into the room and was ready to throw my knife at this nut job but when I got in everything was silent. I scanned the room, still tense from the situation and spotted two people. 

One was a women lying on the bed, still breathing but unconscious, she seemed unharmed. Her skin was olive and her hair was a dirty blonde. Her body was toned and she had a nice figure, as I looked around the room I spotted a picture of her on a dilapidated dresser and I could tell she had purplish eyes. 

The other person was Romelle. 

She was in shock on the floor in the corner of the room. Her hair was a mess and her face was red, partly from everything that just happened and the blood trickling down her forehead. She had a handprint on her cheek and bruises as well as cuts up and down her arms. She was wearing a tank top and I could see a deep gash through the bloodied material. 

She was not in a good way... mentally and physically.

I slowly walk over and put my knife away. I didn't want to yell at her even though I was so frustrated... she's got some explaining to do later. 

"Hey..." I keep my voice at a whisper and kneel in front of Romelle. Her head lulled up to look at me and she seemed really out of it.

"K...Keith?" her voice was very weak, and cracked a little. She seemed pained by the sound of her voice and I nodded.

"Yeah... I'm here," she leaned forward and put her hand to my cheek then pulled it back hesitantly. I put my hand on top of hers and pulled both our hands to my skin, she needed reassurance and I was going to do whatever it took to give her that. 

Romelle is like a little sister to me and when someone messes with my little sister they will regret it. 

"She won't wake up for a while, I put something in her soup so I could sneak out to see you but she found out after and it didn't end well," her words ended with a cough and I gestured for her to take it easy.

Heh... never changes. She used that trick all the time when we were younger. She's smarter than people give her credit for. I get a little more relaxed consider the circumstances and begin to start helping out as best I can. I need to protect her...

I need to take her away from here.

I look at her other and and slowly reach out to grab it but she pulls it to her chest and flinches. It must be sprained or broken. I lean over to her and pick her up off the ground.

"I'm taking you away from here... do you need anything before we go?" She looked at me and knew we were never coming back so I helped her get to her feet and she pointed to under the bed where I found a suitcase. She went in the closet and drawers, trying her hardest to do everything with only one working hand. 

She threw in a few pictures and clothes, then sentimental items and random stuff. I closed the suitcase for her and carried it out of the house making sure she followed. 

We got to the mailbox and she turned to look at the house. It would have made a very nice family home...it had good bones but it was very flawed. The memories of that house are too broken to shelter good hearts. 

I put my hand on her shoulder and she put her head down as we walk to my car. I pull out a sweater from the suitcase and put it in my trunk before going to the drivers seat. We drive in silence, she takes the sweater I offer without another word. We drive into the heart of the town and visit a medicine woman Romelle was frequently visiting for issues such as this. 

The gash on her side was stitched up as well as one on the back of her head and the doctor put herbs on her cuts and bruises. She gave Romelle medicine to take and more herbs to use on them daily. I was also confirmed that Romelle's wrist was broken but it would heal just fine. 

While we were there the woman removed the glass in my arm and patched me up. It was wrapped up and we were free to go... no questions asked. 

However before we left the doctor gave Romelle a hug and whispered something in her ear... to this day I have no idea what it was. 

The drive to the apartment was silent. I wanted to make conversation but she didn't seem to wanna talk. The only time I said something was in the car before we left that town for good, "You have a lot of explaining to do," and we drove off. 

Once we got to the apartment I took Romelle to my room and let her use it to change while I used the bathroom. I went to the kitchen quickly and got us both a glass of water. Once I got back in I sat on the bed next to her, neither of us looked at each other but I handed her the glass which she took.

"Romelle... why didn't you tell me?" I kept my gaze fixed on the ripples in my shaking cup. I tried to keep my hands still but they wouldn't cooperate. 

"What do you me-" I tried to bite back all my frustration, my feelings. They all started pouring and I accidentally yelled.

"ROMELLE!" I quickly realized my mistake and covered my mouth with my hand. Anger is a secondary emotion. I know I'm probably just upset and confused but I'm having a hard time focusing on that.

"Remmy, you told me things were good there. Why didn't you tell me about..." She cut me off were the chill in her tone.

"Nyma." It was very rare to hear Romelle use a voice like that and I never expected it. That name held so many emotions... terrible memories, nightmares more like it. I waited for her to answer and she got the hint after a little. 

"She... gave me somewhere to stay. She provided for us, I tried to get a job but she said I didn't have to. She only wanted me to be happy," Romelle sighed and I glanced over to her, she smiled for a second before I spoke.

"You didn't look very happy! What kind of twisted dictionary is she keeping?" Her small smile fell quickly and she took a shakey breath before continuing. 

"She drinks a lot and when she wasn't she didn't say very nice things. It wasn't like that when we met but eventually after we moved in together she... changed. She wouldn't let me talk to others, she monitored my phone, and I could barely leave the house." Her voice was shaking and I tried to offer a solution that would have fixed the problem sooner. 

"But if you ran," She cut me off again. I just wanted her to hear me out!

"Where would I have gone Keith?" She put her cup down on the desk and threw her arms in the air. Her eyes were still directed in front of her like she was talking to a ghost rather than me.

"ANYWHERE! Maybe the doctor! You seemed to know her! You could have hid and called me! I would have come if you just explained the situation!" My voice was getting louder with every suggestions. They were just pouring from my mouth, I couldn't block them from spilling and I didn't know how to make the words stop. 

"I'M SORRY!" Following those two frustrated and agonizing words was a blanket of silence. It was eery and tense. We sat like that for a few minutes before I decided to ask another question.

"How long..." My gaze was situated at my glass once again, the one I have failed to take a sip of. I placed it between my legs so I could give my hands a rest.

"Keith..." I could feel her eyes on me but I didn't look up. Just answer the god damn question Romelle! I'm trying to help you!

"How long... did you let her torture you? How long did you let her mess around with you?" My words were bitter and I spat them out like a venomous snake. That's when I looked up at her and she flinched at every question.

"She's my girlfriend Keith..." she was trying to reason with me but can't Romelle see that this person was using her!

"No she's not! She's a Sadist! She was only using you! Why can't you see that?" Our voices were getting more aggressive and the argument was getting more intense.

"She wasn't like this before! I don't know what's going on with her!" Romelle was balling her hands into fists. I knew she wouldn't hit me but she was about to punch something and I don't need a hole in my wall, however she needs to answer my question.

"Romelle! How long has it been?" She dodged the inquiry with her own.

"Keith why does it matter?" She grunted. I just calmed myself as best I could and looked back at my very interesting floorboards.

"That wasn't the question." My voice was nothing but stern and she finally cracked.

"2 years!" She said like she couldn't believe she had to give up that information but at the same time she tried to make it sound like it didn't matter. 

I reacted quickly and my legs made me jump straight up. My mind forgot the cup was still in my lap and it shattered on the ground. Romelle screamed and started hyperventilating. My eyes widened and I realized what I just done.

I went over to her and tried to calm her down. I can't believe that Nyma fucked her up to the point where shattering glass could cause her to have a panic attack.

"Remmy! I'm sorry! It's ok! You're ok... I'm here. Nothing bad will happen to you." I went to pull her into a side hug and whispered in her ear to calm her down. Eventually she was ok enough to finally start talking to me.

"Keith... what am I going to do, I have to go back eventually," I stand up quickly and start pacing the room. What kind of knife does Nyma have hanging over Romelle's head...

"No you don't and I wouldn't let you." My voice is cracking bad. I'm about to lose it. 

"But it's my decision!" She stood up quickly and her words were firm. That triggered something in my and I couldn't hold back anymore. I whipped my body towards her and yelled.

"I DON'T WANT THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU TO BE IN A BODY BAG!" Then I broke.

I fell to my knees and I didn't even care about the sting. I don't care that pins and needles are slowly consuming my legs or the fact that banging my fists in the ground wasn't the smartest idea. I don't give a fuck that my arm is starting to bleed again and the stitches are popping. 

I'm so done with everything... I'm finally at my breaking point. The tears are swelling and I can't hold them back anymore.

The only thing I'm able to control is hiding them. I won't let Romelle see me cry. I'm supposed to be her big brother figure.

I can sense Romelle standing in front of me. She's kneeling right in front of me but I refuse to lift my head. 

"She wouldn't kill me," she laughs and pretends like it was some joke.

"Remmy, you have bruises on your neck that make it look like someone tried to strangle you," I tried to be reasonable. She needed to see these things for herself.

"You have no idea what people like that are capable of doing. I... I love you too much to let you die or get hurt," you can hear the sobs in my words. I mean... she does know what people like that are like but things could have been way worse.

"I'm not gonna die Keith... Look at me," Romelle puts her healthy hand on the ground in front of me and uses two of her fingers to life my chin. I rub my eyes and her gaze is met with mine. 

I just realized she has bruises on her cheek and bags under her eyes. The handprint hasn't left yet and that alone wants to make me break out in hysteric cries of agony. She's a fighter... it looks like she's been through war. 

She smiles loosely at me and raises her arm to flex her muscles. She flinches a bit when she puts in the effort to make them pop but her smile never falters. You can tell it's fake but she's trying to make me happy.

"I'm strong! Check out this gun show!" She makes lazer sounds and I roll my eyes from an old argument we had once about the sounds of lazers. 

"If I wanted to see nerf guns I would've went to Walmart," she gaps and huffs crossing her arms and sticking her nose in the air but she opens one eye to look back over at me. 

"Shut up! But seriously I'm fine. It'll work itself out... like it usually does." She puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder and gets up. She walks over to my bed and curls up in the messy sheets. I look at her from the floor and she pats the bed space behind her so I'll join.

It's not very weird for us to do these kinds of things. We have a sibling relationship and when we were in the system we would share a bed all the time just so we felt like we had someone who cared about us and would always be there to protect us.

I begin to follow her instruction but I notice one of her cuts bleeding again and I go to my desk to get her a bandaid. It's a pusheen bandaid but she likes that stuff just as much as me. 

I walk over and lay down next to her in the spot that she leaves open. I unwrap the bandaid and put it over her cut before chucking the paper behind me on the floor. 

I'll clean it up later...

My arm wraps her up in a hug and I rub her shoulder and forearm to give her reassurance that I was really there and I was never going to let her get hurt again. 

"It's ok to cry Remmy... you don't have to act strong in front of me." I thought it would take more convincing but I feel her shoulders start to shake and her breath hitching. I just hug her tighter and whisper to her so she'll fall asleep.

"You're going to be ok... You'll get through this. You were always so strong... you would fight off the bullies when we were in the system together, we always watched out for reach other. We were a duo and if someone tried to pick on us we wouldn't hesitate. I know you can beat this... and I'll be here with you every step of the way." She cries harder but eventually she lets sleep encircle her body like a protective shield.

She is going to live her life without fear and I will do whatever it takes to make sure of that...

Whatever it takes...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To this day I'll protect her, and I know she'll do the same for me. 

I put the rest of the bandaids, along with the wrapping, in my drawstring and begin reading the next clue...

This should be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OK GUYS!

That's the end of the chapter but I wanted to say something real quick... Whoever decided that women aren't dangerous is an idiot and needs to be fired. Men aren't the only ones that can be abusive or have drinking problems. The problem is that people don't treat abuse from women as serious as abuse from men...

SO I wanted to write about it in the flashback with Keith and Romelle. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! See you next time!