"Did I hit you or did you fall?" Erik asked a few minutes later, after a silence settled over them.

    "Well you see, the street decided to take revenge on me for walking on it and grabbed my ankles to trip me," Christiana froze. What if that sounded rude, or wasn't funnily sarcastic? "I mean I fell."

     Her eyes darted to Erik and she was relieved to see he was smiling. The smile was thin lipped and tight, but it was still a smile.

   Erik was surprised he was capable of smiling.

   "Why did the street want revenge on you specifically when hundreds of people walk on it daily?"

    Hmmm. This was a hard one, Christiana thought. "Because... it had a chance with me since you were about to hit me."

    Erik nodded. So this beautiful girl had a sense of humor too. What an endearing combination. Erik's smile shifted into a frown. He still could not believe what he had done. He tried to speak to people as few times as possible, to stay away from them, to not be seen. Yet he had revealed himself to the old man and to Christiana. However, both had taken his presence surprisingly well. And he did now have more time with this glorious goddess on earth. When he saw her this afternoon, he never dreamed she would be sitting in his car that night. He would never have presumed to drive her home. He was so undeserving of the privilege - if she knew what kind of monster he was, she would never consider being in the same car with hin, much less the same room, or maybe even town. Planet was more like it.

   Christiana noticed his white knuckled hands gripping the steerig wheel as if he was going to break it. And the dark look in his nice eyes scared her. Nice eyes. She scolded herself. She had no business thinking a man's eyes were nice.

   Her eyes drifted once again to his hands. He wasn't angry with her, was he?

   "Are you alright?"

   "What?" He almost snapped, but his face softened considerably as he looked at her, almost tenderly. "Oh, yes. Excuse me, please. I was just thinking."

      Christiana smiled. "I do that too. It us actually surprisingly easy to get lost inside your own head, is it not?"

   "Yes."

    They turned down Christiana's street, and were almost in view of her house. Abruptly terrorized, Christiana reacted. What if her mother saw her getting out and came out to the car and... no. She didn't know Erik well and would probably  - and hopefully, never see him again - but she did not want to spoil the one image he had of her.

   "Please stop the car."

    Erik did, concerned. "Is this where you live?"

   "No. But... I'd have to explain what happened to my mother..."

   Erik did not believe her in the slightest. He might not be familiar with normal behavior to tell when someone was lying, but even he could see Christiana was far too nervous for this to just be about her mother. Still, it was not his place to ask.

   He got out of the car and opened the door for her.

    "Thank you."

   "You're welcome."

   They stood awkwardly for a moment. Christiana prayed he would not ask to see her again.

    "I should go."

    "Yes. I am sorry for almost hitting you. Have a good night, Christiana."

   "You as well, Erik. Thanks for not hitting me."

   And yet she felt an inkling of disappointment when he did not.

      Christiana felt Erik's eyes boring into her black as she walked down the street and finally inside her house. He waited until he was sure she was safely inside before leaving.

   Erik sighed in defeat. All his life he wanted nothing to do with people. Why only now, did he find a person he wanted to be around? It was a slap in the face, courtesy of fate. Leave him damaged so that no one could ever like him, give him years of happy solitude, and finally, to ruin his belovedly perfect hell, throw in the most beautiful, unearthly girl in the world. A girl who would never want him, who he could never hurt by keeping or wanting back. Damn everything.

                           ✖

    Christiana laid her purse down  on the hall table, studying the patterns and swirls of the polished wood as she often had for years when she was coming back from or going smewhere and wanted to contemplate something.

   "Christiana," her mother's soft, cold voice floated over to her. Christiana's bottom lip trembled in fear. As her mother's voice grew softer, her feelings grew angrier.

    Christiana whipped around to find her mother behind her, standing in her green skirt and sweater set. Her black hair was loose and her blue eyes were emotionless abysses that saw everything and recognized nothing.

    "Hello Mother, I  -"

   "You are late Christiana."

    "I'm sorry Mother. I had an accident. A car -"

   Her mother shook her gaunt head. "It's a shame the car didn't hit you. Come, your dinner is cold. I made my favorite, pork with broccoli."

    Christiana lowered her eyes as she passed her mother, just like she had been taught, and hung her head. But she should have known she would not get away from being half an hour late without being punished.

   Her mother was a thin, little woman, though she was only an inch taller than Christiana. But depite her bony stature and little features, she was strong.

   With ease, she shoved her daughter into the kitchen wall, with an arm in her throat and her nails digging into her child's flesh. "If this happens again..."she warned. With a single, quick movement, she slapped Christiana hard across the face. The crack of skin slamming into skin resonated hauntingly through the little house. A large red handprint decorated Christiana's face.  She was a bit surprised that her mother hit her in suc a visible area. Usually she tried to stay away from areas other people could see. Oh well, if it left a mark in the morning, Christiana could just cover it with make up.

   She followed her mother to the kitchen and they sat down to dinner.

    For as long as she could remember, Christiana had lived with her mother. She barely remembered her father, though she knew she had loved him more than her mother. She remembered that he was kind and that she looked like him. She remembered how he would hold her and she and her mother got along better in his presence. The three of them were close. Then, when Christiana was five, he died in a car accident. She and her mother were badly injured, but none of their injuries pained them as much as their broken hearts. After that, her mother changed, and gradually grew worse over the years.

  Christiana never realized it, but in her mother's quest to protect her, she had taken away her freedom and her independence. She had robbed her daughter or life and instilled a fear of living within her.

    "Christiana, what happened to your sleeve?"

   Oh no, Christiana had forgotten.

   "I... hurt myself when the car -"

   "How dare you carelessly ruin your sweater!"

    "I'm sorry Mother. I'll try to get the blood out."

   "Do not eat another bite. No dinner for you and a punishment. Go get the knife."

   "Yes Mother."