Dawn fought

  Dawn fought with herself about this. Before yesterday, it was no question that Abe was the most important thing in the world. She stood up for him every time no matter what, and not once did she regret it. Every little belt-mark was a trophy, and not a day of detention, not a week of suspension, not even that weekend in juvie, left a mark on her conscience.
  So for one last time, she had to ask herself why she was doing this? What was worth throwing all of that away? Her heart sank and she stopped walking. It didn't help that her bags were all heavy and the straps were digging into her one shoulder. She let them drop, when little plastic bag fell out of her jacket pocket. One quick glance and she knew what it was, and knew how dangerous it was to have that lying in the open. Palming it and running it to a trash can, her face contorted with a sibling's rage.
  Did he leave it there for her?! The bastard! No regrets!! Let him suffer, let him stew. Let that kid learn the hard way how badly he screwed up. She kept on walking away. She wouldn't be there this time.
  She'd be anywhere but there.

Chase did

  Chase did his homework, took the dog out on a walk, had dinner, and called up his relatives to thank them for the cards and gifts they sent, which were all very nice. His day was done, so far as the rest of the world was concerned. Now, he was going to do what he wanted to do, and no one could stop him.
  They used to stop Chase all the time, because it seemed like all he ever wanted to do was get in everyone's way and go against the world. That terrible music annoyed the neighbors; all that jumping around was going to break a wall; all those movies got in the way of his studies; the books he was reading were no good for young minds; his little "experiments" would burn the house down, as would his cooking. No more.
  No more!
  He sat upon his bed and looked across the empty room at an empty wall - off-white, freckled with his pocks and stains - and he did nothing. And he did nothing wrong. And they could not stop him from doing nothing.
  Finally, he did what he wanted.

Bernice lay back

  Bernice lay back in a bright blue dress on a pale pink blanket outside her home at 7:30 PM, waiting for things to come. Her mom's TV show said there would be a meteor shower tonight, and her mom said that meant the sky would be full of shooting stars before going off to work. So Bernice thought hard a made a plan to make all the children go outside and watch the stars go shooting. She made as many posters as she could, each one saying to go outside at seven where they could watch the sky for stars, and each one decorated with a different theme; bees and honey, rainbows, dance shoes, and as many great things as she could do. Then, she carefully placed them in her favorite places, where every kid would find them.
  That night she grabbed her blanket and a clock and put on her favorite dress. She looked behind the desk, under the big TV, in the one-person bathroom, and everywhere else to make sure that kids had taken her posters. They were all gone, so she went upstairs in the elevator and sat out on the roof. The kids would all come soon. Maybe when they did, the stars would shoot out too and play with the moon in the empty city sky.

Aster sat

  Aster sat in the margin of kitchen right by where it met the bedroom pondering the tea cups. He was certain that they were all at once part of the same set, yet as he peered at them more closely, he became more aware of subtle differences that made each an individual.
  Each teacup was printed with the same image. Assuming that they are to be held in the left hand, the holder is meant to observe a panoramic view of a fantastic parade of colorful toys in which tiny dolls and rattles led a disorderly march of stuffed bears with balloons, proceeded by paper and porcelain figures of young men and women making play of occupation; these figurines grew successively larger until they became imposing iron casts of workers and bright tin models of housemaids, only to tarnish and shrink into the inevitable forms of a few wooden dolls, pressed against the side of the handle, tinkering at making small wooden toys and depositing them at the start of the parade.
  There were seven cups in all, absent a teapot that may have existed long ago, but what kept Aster in his spot was the rumination of how the little nicks and errors on one cup or another altered the story in full. To him, there was surely a connection between one bear's balloon being cut at the string and the curiously drab dress of the teenage girl picking up socks.
  Aster sat, and the sun began to fall. It would surely rise again before he moved.