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group of girls passed by in tennis outfits, oogling at Jack and whispering excitedly behind their hands and tennis rackets. They squealed a little when he waved back.
    “S-So you must really like running!” I blurted, then mentally slapped myself, wishing I had my own tennis racket to hide behind.
    He grinned, “Oh yeah, it really gets the blood pumping. You never know what you can find when you run. Especially in the woods. I hear the woods have an abundance of damsels in distress just wai ting for their Prince Charmings to come carry them to safety.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh, even though it hurt a little.
    “Speaking of woods…”
    I stiffened, feeling my heart race a little. Damn, the more my heart pounded the more pressure I felt—like it was a piece of plump fruit being squeezed by a giant’s hand.
    Jack shifted his weight from one foot, looking uncomfortable, “I know it’s none of my business, but what were you really doing all alone in the woods next to some huge ass hole in the fence? You weren’t really planning on running off, were you? Or…”
    “No!” I said, my voice raising an octave, “No, I wasn’t going to skip, or ditch, or run off with a gang of delinquents , or—God forbid—meet up with some g-guy like that!” I quickly explained the real reason I was there, the small bit of truth where I just wanted to kill some time by exploring the grounds (and of course leaving out the part about the beautiful blonde girl and the sword wielding guy with intent to kill), and he nodded, believing my story.
    “It sounds legit to me. Maybe you saw something you shouldn’t have and you’re suffering from some sort of…memory trauma.”
    “Memory trauma?”
    “ Y’know , like when you witness something really bad and you go into shock, so you don’t remember anything.”
    I pondered this. Could I have actually seen something much worse and my brain, overloaded with the shock, made up everything else I saw? But who makes up a girl who can pull swords out of her hands, or guys with deep bluish green eyes like the ocean? And that still leaved the biggest question so far: what about the tattoo on my chest? Should I tell Jack about all this—hoping that it would sound crazy or that he can confidently say nothing like that could really happen.
    Was the tattoo just some crazy figment of my imagination too, trying to play tricks on my brain to help me forget whatever I had witnessed in the woods?
    “Hey…Jack?” I started.
    “Yes, Em ?”
    I swallowed hard, feeling a bead of sweat slide down the back of my neck. I wiped it off. “This will sound so crazy, and crazy is definitely not what I want to be right now, but I’m starting to think I am crazy—well, what if I saw something happen in the woods , but it sounds so…so….”
    “Crazy?”
    “Yeah. Crazy.” I tried to laugh, but it came out like a high pitched cry. “Look, I think what I saw in the woods—near the fence—you won’t believe, heck I don’t even think I believe, but I saw two people. Fighting…with swords.”
    His eyes widened just a bit. “Swords? Are you sure you—”
    “I know it sounds crazy!” I said, trying to suppress this sudden anger and humiliation bubbling inside me. A swelling of pressure in my chest seemed to expand the more I spoke. “But it’s true. I saw them fighting with swords—there was all of this strange light and it was like something you see out of a Sci-Fi movie. One of them even pulled a sword out of her hand s —”
    TICK. TICK. TICK .
    I let out a surprised gasp as my heart just felt like it was being stabbed. I clutched my chest, feeling the sharp throbbing and pulsing of my racing heart. My knees suddenly gave out , but Jack managed to reach out and grab my arm before my kneecaps collided with the hard pavement.
    I doubled over in pain. I coul dn’t breathe; every sharp gasp felt like a million tiny shards of glass stabbing my lungs. I heard Jack shouting my name over and over but