Sometimes I feel like I'm turning into V.C. Andrews.

Lately, I've noticed a common thread to my fiction—well, two of them. Both feature girls being, to use a euphemism, "ravished." Now, I know that this is probably because I'm still subconsciously working out some of my own personal past traumas, and it's showing up in my writing. I also don't want to be a one-trick pony or anything, so as you read, I would appreciate if you guys and gals leave feedback.

In my fanfic "Coming of Age," the two characters are teenagers. In this one, the characters are a grown man and a little girl. For this reason, I want to warn people before reading this story. I don't want to trigger anyone, as I know what that's like. So, please read this story with caution.

Thank you.

Two Different Species of Secret

For her fourteenth birthday, Violet Parr, aka Invisigirl, bought herself a journal with a royal purple, velvety cover, and a collection of different colored ballpoint pens with her birthday money. Her first entry was written in lavender ink.

Happy Secrets:

I am Invisigirl

I save people's lives and they don't even know it's me

Everyone in my family has a secret identity

I actually kind of like Dash

I actually kind of like spending time with my mom, too

Violet then hid the journal in her bed frame, even though nobody else knew she had bought it.

When she finally couldn't take it anymore, Violet wrote this in the back of her journal, in black ink and tiny, tiny letters:

My Evil Secrets

That I have a secret secret identity, and she's disgusting

That I sometimes want to rip my skin off

That I hate mirrors

That _'s alive inside my head, especially at night

Why I hate

After the word "hate," Violet had written a name. It was written in even tinier handwriting, so tiny the letters blurred together. It wasn't a name; it was effacement.

It was "Mirage."

There were some names Violet couldn't write.

Violet had her hair back now, and she went to the movies and to school games with Tony Rydinger. They would hold hands, and he would kiss her cheek. It turned out he was painfully shy, as well. He confessed this to her as he walked in the park.

"I've always wanted to talk to you," he said. " But I was too nervous."

"How come?" Violet asked.

"Well, because it didn't seem you wanted to talk to anyone. I didn't want to bother you."

"I'm sorry," Violet said. She felt like smacking herself. All that time wasted!

"Plus, you were absent a lot," Tony continued.

"Well, sometimes it seemed that way," Violet concurred. She felt a twinge of pride. If only Tony knew she was a superhero! She would never tell him, though. Being a super came with a code of honor that she would never break. Of course, Lucius Best was a super, and he was happily married to Honey, who knew all about his abilities. Maybe someday….

When she was with Tony she could think those things. Any other time, though, she remembered what she was.

"You just were so full of deep thoughts, you know?" Tony said. "I thought you would probably think I was stupid or boring. Am I boring? Because you can tell me, and I know I say stupid crap all the time—"

"Tony, look at me," she put her hand on his shoulder. "You are not stupid or boring. In fact, you are the least stupid and boring person I know."

"Well, you're the smartest and most fun person I know," he leaned in closer to her. "And you have the prettiest hair." His hand was stroking her hair now. He was leaning closer. "And the prettiest eyes." He touched his lips to hers.

Violet wanted to stop him, but didn't want to hurt his feelings. Trying to tell him he couldn't kiss her and why would be like talking to someone who only spoke Ancient Greek. No, it wasn't that he wouldn't understand. It was that she herself would be physically unable to say certain words. Her body would snatch them back inside itself, where they would rot and fester, but everyone else would be safe from their ugliness.

Violet kept her eyes open. She knew she wasn't supposed to, but she had to remember that it was Tony who was kissing her. If she closed her eyes, Tony could become…Someone else.

Some names she couldn't even say in her mind.

She couldn't feel Tony's kiss, but it was sweet that he liked kissing her. That made her happy. He was a gentleman, too. He never tried to put his tongue in her mouth, and never kissed her for longer than ten seconds.

Human eyelids looked weird close up.