"I come bearing gifts," Memphis exclaimed cheerfully. His grey eyes shone with excitement. He was always so prideful when he broke the rules, but even I had to admit, it was a part of what made him so charming.

He had a crooked smile that seemed to get him out of even the most sticky of situations — not that he ever needed to rely on it much. He had a way with words that had you agreeing with him before you even knew what you were even agreeing to.

Long ago, I learned that you could never keep Memphis away from anything banned in the Borderlands. I used to scold him for it, afraid that I — along with Ember, Si, and Gracie — would be accessories to his crimes, but it only encouraged him more.

I would never admit it to him, but his disobedience was thrilling to watch. I couldn't help but stare as it seemed like he had the whole world in the palm of his hands.

His family was comprised of merchants, going all across the Borderlands to trade different goods, like furs, salt, and various herbs. Only, I knew his family didn't just trade the goods we could cultivate in our small patch of land. They had a nasty habit of providing under-the-table dealings of contraband, like sugary candy and Coca-Cola.

I had a suspicion that Memphis and his family even dared to cross the Border themselves. For they spoke of the Outside as if they had seen it — as if they knew it. I could never figure out how they were able to get back in, but I was never brave enough to question it.

In one swift movement, Memphis took out several things from his leather bag: a magazine, an assortment of food, and a book. He had brought a lot to share with us this week. Usually, it was just a single piece of new food to try. Ice cream still reigned true as my favorite.

I had never tasted anything as creamy yet cold at the same time. While most of it melted by the time Memphis brought it back to the group, it was still the best thing I had ever tasted — it far surpassed the wondrous foods Gran would cook up every day. Of course, I would never dare tell Gran.

Each week, Memphis, Si, Ember, Gracie, and I meet in the forest on the Eastern end of the Border. The stationed watch on the Eastern side is not as vigilant as the others, and the trees provide great cover. We're also close enough to the Border to be able to blame any mishaps on someone throwing them over here from the other side.

It didn't always use to be like this. The Border used to stand strong and unwavering. If you wanted to leave, you once had to request permission to pass over the Border, otherwise, an invisible force would lock you in.

Now, however, you can step foot over the Border with no problem — only to exit, though. The protection spell guarding us is wearing thin, and the beasts are nipping at our heels to get in.

I had only caught a glimpse of one of the beasts once, but it was enough to scare me for a couple of months. Bright, glowing eyes peered at me from beyond the Border, making my breathing hitch.

They were real.

For so long they had been just talk — almost a figment of the Borderland's imagination. The beasts existed, but they weren't real to me. They filled my nightmares but never entered my reality. I had never laid eyes on one before. However, that all changed a couple of summers ago when I had raced quickly over to my godmother's to help her with the birth of her youngest son.

Passing along the items, I was able to get a clear package that was labeled Cotton Candy. It looked like a vibrantly colored cloud, and I longed to see what it would taste like. Would it be sweet or sour? Maybe both?

Opening up the plastic packaging, I quickly broke off a piece, my fingers sticky from the sugar; it was already melting underneath the summer sun. Taking a bite, I quickly started to cough. My mouth was overwhelmingly filled with sugar. I could never get over how sweet all the food Memphis brought over was.

"It's sickeningly sweet," I put the Cotton Candy in the middle of the circle we were sitting in, not wanting to eat more since processed food always had the habit of making me fall ill.

Maybe that was a sign that the Outside truly was sickening if even their treats left an unsettled pit in my stomach.

"That's what makes it so damn good, Sage," Si laughed, reaching for the bag without a second thought. "You want to feel the food slowly corroding your body."

I nudged him playfully with my elbow, reaching for the book.

I quickly passed off the book to Ember. I didn't even bother to look at the cover. I hated books. They were just so un-relatable — stories focused on a world that was so different from mine. To me, all the stories Memphis brought were fantasies since the world in them, no matter if it was contemporary or thriller, was just so... foreign.

"My cousin said that's a very popular fantasy book back on the Outside; you said those were your favorites?" Memphis broke out into his crooked grin, as he looked at Ember who was flipping through the pages of the book.

She instantly started to blush, her natural ginger hair blowing slightly in the summer wind. Tucking a start piece of hair behind her ear, she looked up from the book and smiled at Memphis.

"It is," she lightly responded, "thank you so much, Memphis."

He nodded at her, as Si reached for the magazine with wide eyes.

"Apparently, 'Eva Longshire, an escapee from the Borderlands, says life in the Borderlands is like a cult.'" Si read the magazine title, a quizzical look on his face. "She says, and I quote: 'they raise you inside their bubble to believe that you have the choice to leave, but they do nothing to equip you with skills of the outside world. So even if you want to leave, you can't, because you have no way of surviving on your own.' She's even going as far as to plead with the public to help everyone inside the Borderlands to escape. Oh, it looks like she's a Luna now — I guess that's why she left."

"She's not wrong," Gracie responded, taking a bite of some artificially colored candy.

I exhaled slowly, my fingertips pushing into the inside of my palms. I wouldn't say that I didn't like Gracie exactly, it was just that we were so opposite. She made it her mission to bash on the Borderlands every chance she got. She only saw what she wanted to see in the world while I chose to look for the good.

"I would have left years ago if it wasn't for my little brother," Gracie huffed out, her lips smacking together as she chewed something called Laffy Taffy. She made it seem like she deserved an award for staying. "There's a whole world out there that they're keeping us from."

"They're keeping us away for a good reason," Ember mumbled a response, her brown eyes glued to the book clutched in her hands. "We sacrifice things like electricity, running water, and higher education, so we can be free — free from having to partake in their culture."

"That's not freedom. At least on the Outside, we have the choice to choose whether or not to partake in their culture. We don't have that choice here," Gracie sneered, continuing to chew on her candy loudly.

"We're all lucky we don't have that choice. They make you think you can opt-out of their culture, but you can't. If you try, they're so much more powerful than us. We're only human, and they'll never let you forget that." Ember trembled, voice and hands shaking. She took a deep breath in before collecting her things.

"I'm going to be late. Thanks again for the candy and the book, Memphis," Ember said, dashing off quickly before anything more could be said to her.

"You do know Ember is a refugee, right?" I asked Gracie. "She was born on the Outside."

While the Council of the Borderlands would never let re-entrance of anyone who left, they did occasionally allow refugees to come into our homeland. They said it is to help us from having to resort to incest in the future, but they only allow well-connected families in, like Ember's.

"I didn't know," she responded, as she picked at her nails. "She barely ever talks."

"Eva is a Luna now, Gracie. She's not one of us. We might have grown up with her, but she's as good as dead. She isn't fighting for our best interest. My Pa said that Werewolves want to breach the Border because they feel it's unjust to keep potential mates away. They're using her, and it looks like she's letting them," Si said, eyes intently locked on Gracie. "We can't let them win, Gracie. We need to stand strong. I have a bad feeling about this."

Eighty years the Border has been providing shelter for its people, and during those eighty years, only a handful of members have left — Ma included. All cases ended horribly; I guess, all cases besides Eva's.

The beasts are monsters, I told myself. They had brainwashed Eva.

I remember Eva Longshire. I mean, how could I not? Everyone knew everyone, and if you didn't know someone, you made it your business to know them because that's just the way of life in our little bubble.

Eva was a girl with so much spunk and fire she could light up a room. She could chat your ear off for hours and hours about nothing and anything, but you wouldn't even mind it because she was so nice. You'd feel bad trying to halt conversation with her because she made you feel so full inside.

My breath hitched at the idea of her being brainwashed on the Outside. She used to babysit me back in the day when Ma and Pa would both be away for work. She had a motherly touch, even at a young age, and she would always — just like Ma — have a place in my heart even though she was gone.

While I knew that she had not died, I would go on acting as if she was. For, if you cross the Border, you are as good as dead.

I hoped she was not suffering, though. I had heard things, rumors about what it meant to be a Luna and not enough prayers in the world could save her from her fate.

She was truly better off dead.

Looking up at the setting sun, I sprung up from my sitting position. "I've got to go pick some things up from the market for Gran. Thanks, Memphis, for the candy. Try to bring more of that ice cream next time."

After saying my goodbyes, my bare feet glided through the forest, as I made my way to the town square, where the market was held. Different vendors sold their products at the market in their own wooden stalls. Normally, I would lull over the fine jewelry Pa's best friend's wife made, wishing one day I'd be able to afford something so pretty.

Pa always said jewelry was so impractical nowadays. Money should be spent on food and family, not frivolous things. I always wondered if his heart was a little jaded from Ma's disappearance. He never used to be like this, but he never had to be the sole provider before.

I could never, in good conscience, hold a grudge against Pa too long. He was burly like a bear, but once warmed up, he was as cuddly and warm as a Teddy Bear.

Smiling at the thought of my old Pa, I made my way to one of the vegetable stands. A plump woman named Wendy ran the stand, her hands forever glued over her chest, eyes trained on whoever dared look at her find vegetables. She always smiled at me, though.

Perks of being her goddaughter, I guess.

I was always in awe of the market during the evening hours; the lanterns strung above always made the place feel so magical like we didn't need any influence from the Outside to have a good time. While I could admire the market for hours, my feet curled up at the cold cobblestone beneath me.

"Your Gran said I should be expecting you," Wendy greeted, reaching down for a crocheted bag that held the items Gran had wanted me to pick up for her. "Crazy woman promised me one of her pear pies, but was so frazzled this morning she could barely get out her order."

I laughed, grabbing the bag from Wendy, "Sounds like Gran. Pop has her running around like she's still twenty years old. I'll make sure I get you that pear pie, though."

Wendy shook her head. "Don't worry yourself, dear, she was spewing off about how her favorite granddaughter—"

"—her only granddaughter," I corrected.

"Well, she was spewing off how her favorite and only granddaughter was turning the big twenty tomorrow and how she had a million things to do to get ready for the big day. I put some extra strawberries in there just for you."

I peered inside the bag, my eyes instantly finding the strawberries — my favorite. "Thank you, Wendy, you really shouldn't have."

"Your Ma would be rolling around in her grave if she found out her best and closest friend let her little Sage go unappreciated on her birthday. Remember you're welcome for dinner anytime at my house. Now, just because I grow some mean food does not mean I can cook a mean meal, but the boys would appreciate seeing your face around," Wendy chuckled, her whole body vibrating with each chuckle.

When Ma was dragged over the Border, she was pronounced dead. She was gone at midnight, and we held her funeral eight hours later. It was hard to say goodbye; she was here one minute and gone the next. With nobody to bury, I used to hold onto hope that she would come back.

I used to sit up atop one of the trees that face the Border and wait anxiously for Ma to return. She would never leave me, I told myself. But as the seasons started to change, so did the seasons in my life, and I soon realized she was never coming back.

She was dead.

And, if by some misfortunate stroke of luck, she had survived out there, then she was dead...to us. Any life among the beasts was no life at all.

While Ma was gone, I was never lacking in love. A couple of weeks after we laid Ma to rest, Pa and I moved in with Gran, Pop, Auntie, and Uncle. I had more love than I knew what to do with, and after a while, the hurt and anguish I felt started to slowly fade away.

But, it never fully disappeared.

"I might just have to take you up on that offer. Gran is making Pa cook next week," I said worriedly. Pa was many things, but a cook certainly was not one of them.

"You might want to have water at the ready in case something starts to burn. It wouldn't be the first time," Wendy offered up, knowing just how bad of a cook he is.

"I'm just hoping I don't get food poisoning again. I know Gran wants Pa to be a better cook, because she frets he'll shrivel up and die once she is gone and I've been married off, but I think he's a lost cause," I exhaled, putting the bag of food over my shoulder. I smoothed down my short, chin-length hair as the wind was trying to give me a styling of tangles.

"I'll be keepin' you in my thoughts and prayers," Wendy smiled on, as someone else started to investigate Wendy's booth.

"I'll be needing it," I gave one last smile before heading down the windy road home.