"This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time."

~Chuck Palahniuk

Blood pounded in her ears as she reached out and gripped the railing, flipping herself under, then on top, then over. Muscles screamed as she flew down the baluster adjoined to the stone steps leading down to the expanse of concrete below. Upon reaching the foot of the railing, the petite woman took one mighty leap and landed deftly on the edge of the concrete half-wall erected around a modern statue elevated from the square. Perched precariously on the edge of the platform, she wobbled dramatically for half a moment as she caught her breath- exhalations becoming vapor in the crisp December air- and quirked her lips as she sensed a collective gasp from the onlookers around her. Gathering her strength, she completed her run by launching herself upwards and into a backflip onto the ground, feeling the sudden shock of hard concrete reverberate through her legs as she touched down.

The onlookers, likely tourists by the look of them, exploded into applause as she smiled demurely at them, untying her bandana to mop unceremoniously at the sheen of sweat that shone on her face. The woman squinted, raising a hand to shield her eyes as she peered up the 30-stair staircase she had just descended via railing. She caught a glimpse of her friend, Erik, having recorded her stunt with her own smartphone. He waved at her, giving her a thumbs-up as he galloped down the stone steps, taking two at a time. She cringed as he stopped once to fumble with the phone, nearly dropping it in his haste.

"That was sick, Kaz!" he exclaimed, gasping for breath as he ran up to her. He tried his hardest to conceal his panting, but his breath was obvious in the winter air. "See?"

Kaz peered over his shoulder as he replayed her latest feat on the phone, watching herself lope down the railing from behind; foot-over-foot as she utilized her momentum to launch herself nearly ten feet onto the thigh-high concrete structure encircling one of the many pieces of modern art decorating the park. She grinned as the video portrayed the group of tourists sitting on the concrete half-wall start in surprise, edging back from her. They eyed her as she readied her backflip, mouths falling open in consecutive shock as she doubled back through the air, landing on the group with a loud thud.

The phone had picked up their cheering in a burst of static-y noise, and Kaz glanced up to see that the group of tourists were still sneaking glances at the two of them and whispering excitedly to one another behind gloved hands. Unwilling to wait until one of them grew bold and approached the two, she snatched up a handful of Erik's hoodie, tugging him along as he fussed with the phone.

"I wish this thing had a zoom feature, I could've gotten a better shot of your flip," he lamented.

"It does have a zoom feature, I think," she responded, releasing him as soon as she felt they were a safe distance away. Though Millennium Park made for a good site to practice parkour, it was mostly always infested with tourists. More than once she had found herself stopping short of a run, having to stop as people swarmed her route. More than once she had been approached by enthusiasts who wanted to chat her up or give her money-mistaking her for a street performer-and most of the time Kaz just waved them away, awkward and embarrassed. She felt strange taking money from strangers, despite Erik's cajoling. Though a little extra money here or there definitely wouldn't hurt, that wasn't why she did what she did.

Erik furrowed his dark brows in confusion, "What? Where?"

"Ah, I'll show you later," she replied, plucking her phone from his grasp, "I think that last video was the best anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's go fetch your brothers."

"Yeah, you're right," Erik agreed, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his pullover, "It's getting late anyway."

He fell into step beside Kaz, swaying a bit and bumping into her shoulder affectionately. Although she had caught his movement from the corner of her eye and had steeled herself against it, Kaz stumbled a bit despite herself, nearly ending up over the street curb. Erik burst out laughing.

After all, Erik stood as nearly a foot taller than her despite being several years younger than her. He had dark skin and dark hair with a thin face and long, angular features. Though only 18 years to her 22, he looked as though he easily surpassed her in age. However, if one knew Erik DeFour at all, they would know that that was definitely not the case. In reality, he was thin and bony; all elbows and knees with the awkward clumsiness of a boy who hadn't quite caught up with the rest of his body.

Despite this, he still loomed over her short, compact stature. Kaz, or Klara Arlene Zachary, was a gymnast at heart… and shaped like one too. At only 5 feet, 3 inches tall Kaz adored her muscular legs and arms and flat belly. However, much to her dismay, Kaz's cup size and height wasn't exactly impressive. When wearing hoodies and other loose clothing she is often mistaken for a boy and has been called a myriad of names, ranging from pixie, smurf, shrimp, midget, you name it. High school had been exhausting.

She shoved the giggling Erik. "You're not as cute as you think you are," Kaz huffed, pretending to be more annoyed than she felt. Kaz had babysat her neighbors, the DeFour family of boys for years; they were entitled to some allowances.

The two fell into an easy silence as they walked the streets; Erik pulled out his phone to absently play Candy Crush or something while Kaz purposely caught glimpses of herself in the shop windows. One of her coworkers had dyed her hair after work yesterday and the bright pink was a shock every time her reflection appeared. She absently wondered what her dad would think, smiling as she envisioned the stunned look on his face. He wouldn't freak out though… perhaps scold her some for not keeping up a "professional" appearance… but he wouldn't make her change it.

"So, why'd you decide to change your hair, anyway?" Erik asked suddenly, "It looked good brown."

"…Not that it doesn't look good now," he added hastily as she fixed him with a pointed look.

Kaz sighed, pulling the hood of her jacket up to cover her hair. Erik immediately looked guilty.

"Something different, I guess," she shrugged, returning her gaze to her reflection in the shop windows. In reality she was looking for something to differentiate herself from the other female parkourists in Chicago. The local group was in the process of shooting videos for their website, and Kaz longed to be one of the featured female athletes on the site. For the past week she had been meeting Erik outside of the high school to practice. He was finishing up his senior year and, because the smarty pants had fulfilled most of his credits to graduate already, was able to leave the campus at around two hours early. Erik, bless him, was more than willing to follow her around with her phone camera with more enthusiasm than necessary. That left Kaz with a couple of hours to bounce off buildings and other city structures before she and Erik had to pick up Erik's younger brothers from the elementary and high school.

Erik was fidgeting with his phone and stealing glances at her sideways, obviously concerned he had offended Kaz. She decided to take pity on him and fixed him with a cheeky grin.

"Thanks goober. I look just like Pink now, don't I?"

Erik snorted, but wisely kept the smartass retort Kaz could see on his face to himself.

"Totally," he said instead, a toothy grin splitting his face wide, "Nailed it."

After a couple more blocks, the pair plunked themselves down on a bench in front of the elementary school. After a bit, Erik had his legs splayed wide, feet planted flush to the concrete. He tapped his phone to the beat belting from his earbuds with his eyes closed, head nodding and singing softly under his breath.

Kaz sat next to him, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone absent-mindedly. The puffs of her breath fogged the screen and she drew her scarf closer to her body, wrapping her four naked fingers in its cable knit fabric. She had doctored one of her dad's old aquatic gloves into a makeshift pair of parkour gloves by slicing off the fabric at the knuckle on the fore and middle fingers. Kaz often wished the grip was stickier to suit her needs, but she didn't have the money to afford a proper pair and the constant grabbing of rough surfaces had begun to tear her hands to shreds.

A blurry strand of pink caught her eye and she caught and rolled the strand between two fingers, staring cross-eyed at the chunk of hair. Kaz finally decided she liked it. She knew that her pieced, pixie-style haircut coupled with the hair dye threatened to make her out to look even more like Tinkerbell's punkish cousin—but in truth, she liked it. Kaz liked to stand out, to do something different. It seemed that, since high school, each and every day had slowly become a route mantra of work, the DeFour boys, and home. She couldn't afford proper gymnastic classes as she had in the past, but parkour kept her strong… kept her active… kept her different… but, most importantly, kept her sane. Things like the pink hair were just candy.

Kaz glanced up as the shrill squeals and cries of children filled the air. A barrage of wriggling children burst forth from the double doors right as the bell buzzed to signify dismissal. Kaz poked Erik on his bobbing head before standing, craning her head to scan the sea of faces.

"There he is," stated Erik from beside her, taking out one of his earbuds. Kaz followed his gaze and spotted Marcus, Erik's 8-year-old little brother. He was looking around, his scarf flying as he rushed in circles searching for them.

"Hey booger!" Kaz shouted. She may be little, but her voice carried and she knew it. Marcus whirled around, smiling huge and making a dash for them.

"Ha ha, you answered to booger, booger," Erik teased.

"Shut up!" Marcus hollered, his grin unfaltering as he lashed out at his older brother's shin. Erik just danced away from him, laughing and deflecting his shots with his feet.

Kaz rolled her eyes, squinting across the street at the middle school. It was adjacent to and blocked the view of the high school from their position. She caught a glimpse of Erik's middle brother, Jay, making his way across the expanse of lawn separating the two schools. Kaz broke into a smile and waved at the Jay-shaped figure, which waved back.

Erik's brothers looked as though someone had made cookie-cutter copies of Erik but had assigned them different ages. Jay, at 16 years old, had long since been taller than Kaz by a couple of inches. Though it was inevitable, Kaz was just a little miffed the day she realized this. She knew that Marcus wasn't far behind, either.

When Erik's middle-brother approached, he greeted them with a smile before immediately zeroing in on Kaz.

"Klara," Jay said, brow furrowing as he stared at her. Jay was the only one of the three that called her by her proper name. "What happened to your hair?"

Kaz sighed as Marcus immediately stopped attacking his brother to parrot his older brother and nag insistently about her hair. Busted. She lowered the hood of her jacket slowly for dramatic effect, smirking at the boys. "Ta-daaa."

"Whooooooa!" Marcus exclaimed, eyes boggling, "That's so cool!"

Jay raised an eyebrow, "Oh, wow you… uh… dyed it."

"-and it looks great!" he added just as hastily as Erik had earlier as she regarded him with reproach.

"Come on, booger. Let's go home," Kaz suddenly proclaimed loudly, turning and giving Marcus a gentle shove, "Since you're the only one who complimented my hair, you're my favorite today."

Marcus blushed and spluttered, but it was apparent he was secretly pleased. Erik and Jay exchanged nonplussed expressions, trailing after the pair.

Kaz fished around in her pockets for the apartment entry key, frowning as she palmed the collection of random objects stuffed in the deep lining of her cargo pants. It was a wonder she hadn't lost anything as she bounded around Millennium Park. Not for the first time, Kaz idly wondered if she should get a purse.

She sensed the familiar click and beep as the door was unlocked, and she glanced up to realize Erik had reached over her to access the keypad with his own key. Kaz thanked him but insisted she had had the card in her fist already. Erik just rolled his eyes.

Four pairs of feet tromped up the incline of stairs leading up to the apartments. Without dubiety Kaz followed the boys into their apartment. The odor of something delicious cooking bombarded their senses and her stomach growled decidedly in response. With a start Kaz realized she had forgotten to eat all day. She hoped that Ms. DeFour made enough to share.

"Hi Ma!" Erik shouted into the apartment, proceeding to empty his pockets on the dining room table. Marcus and Jay parroted the greeting in a chorus, following their older brother's lead by depositing their backpacks in a heap on the table.

"Hi boys!" came the response from the kitchen as Ms. DeFour emerged. The boys' mom was as thin, dark and tall as her offspring with high cheekbones and a beautiful smile. However, for her size, Karen DeFour certainly had a pair of lungs on her, "Hey-where do you all think you're going? Get those butts back here and hang those bags where they belong. This ain't your dad's house—oh, hello Klara," Ms. DeFour had finally noticed Kaz hanging back in the door. She aimed a gleaming grin in her direction, "Are you staying for dinner?"

Kaz was quick to hide her smile at the woman's outburst. Ms. DeFour had known her since she was in diapers and Kaz practically lived in her apartment yet she still pulled on her cheerful, there's-company-in-the-home façade whenever Kaz dropped by.

"If you'll have me—it sure smells good," she answered, plucking two of the backpacks from the table. Jay and Erik returned sheepishly at their mother's shouting and Jay "oof'd" as Kaz shoved his bag into his chest with a smile. She hoisted the smaller of the two packs over her shoulder.

"Of course dear, you're always welcome here. Oh, Klara, you should let Marcus get his own stuff," Ms. DeFour flustered, as though Kaz hadn't babysat the kid for more than half his life.

"It's not a problem, Ms. DeFour, it's my fault anyway for getting him the game," she answered good-naturedly. Kaz flashed a smile at the mom of three before following Jay and Erik into the back bedroom. The small room was crammed with two twin beds pushed up against one corner and a small loveseat occupying the south wall. The sleeping arrangements had been strategically maneuvered to accommodate the 32-inch television mounted on an old crate painted wobbly red and black stripes. Kaz remembered that summer fondly—the four of them, without any real artistic talent, out on the sidewalk spray-painting the thing silly.

Seated next to the crate was a white, well-used and well-loved Xbox 360 console. In the five minutes since walking through the doorway Marcus had darted into the room, plunked his bottom on the carpet, secured a controller and had booted up the console with fire in his eyes. The "game," flashed up onscreen.

For his birthday last month Marcus had asked for the latest Halo game (though Kaz suspected he had done so mostly due to Erik's not-so-subtle cajoling), and her, Jay, and Erik all pitched in for the joint gift. Since then, Marcus-and Erik- immediately made a beeline to the bedroom as soon as they came home. With a thud Erik landed right next to his brother and grabbed for the second controller. Jay took his usual spot perched on one of the beds behind them and Kaz plunked down next to him.

Though Kaz had just declared Marcus her favorite not an hour before, in truth it was Jay that was her favorite. His muted demeanor served as a stark contrast to his vivacious siblings. Though it would be a mistake to assume Jay was shy or introverted—when Jay spoke about something he was truly interested in his eyes grew bright with wonder and his hands gesticulated with such fervor one would think he were conducting a symphony. Jay loved books like most boys loved video games. History like most boys loved music. At only 16 years old, Kaz was certain that Jay was smarter than most of the boys she graduated with in high school.

"What's that?" Kaz asked as Jay drew a thick paperback from his school bag. The book was new to her, and she enjoyed staying abreast in Jay's extracurricular exploits. It was certainly more entertaining than watching Erik and Marcus kill bugs—or whatever it was they had been battling onscreen for the past month.

"Lord of the Rings," he replied matter-of-factly, thumbing through the book to find the bookmark. At her silence, Jay looked up, absorbing her flummoxed expression incredulously. It was no secret that Kaz was frightfully out of touch with the goings-on of… well… everything.

"Really? Aragorn? Legolas? The one ring to rule them all?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowing suspiciously, "Anything?"

Kaz shrugged. She remembered the ads that had aggressively purported the motion picture a number of years back—but that had been when she was in elementary and middle school. Kaz and her dad have never been big movie buffs; they didn't even purchase their first television until she was about Jay's age, and they didn't have cable. Three fifths of the people she associated with on a regular basis were in that room, not including her coworkers.

"I know it's a movie, right? Did they write a book on it too? Or did the book come first?"

Jay stared at her, mouth slack, looking as though he were torn between striking her with the book in his grip or to embrace her in pity. Jay settled for a compromise between these two options by abruptly depositing the heavy volume in Kaz's lap.

"Hey, what-"

"Read that, seriously," Jay insisted, setting his jaw in a determined stare. Kaz screwed up her face in poorly masked apprehension, about to protest when he spoke again, "Of all the books I've tried to get you to read, if you actually read one of them, let this be the one. Seriously."

She regarded his firm gaze for a moment, abashed at his perceptivity. It was true—over the course of two years Kaz had consistently deflected a number of his suggested readings even if he was sure to send her home with the book. She just wasn't the reading type.

"Jay…" she started, a whine stirring in the back of her throat as she tried handing back the brick-like mound of text.

Jay shook his head, waving his hand in front of him as if to usher the book away. "Read it Klara, you'll thank me."

That's what you always say, she thought sulkily, but obediently brought the book back to her chest. Kaz starting turning the book over in her hands with morbid curiosity when a sudden "WHOOP!" from Erik caused her to jump about a foot in the air. The brick book then met the back of Erik's head with a harsh THWACK!

Shortly thereafter Ms. DeFour served a very delicious fettuccine alfredo to the lot of them. Kaz was still chomping away at her generous helping as she watched Ms. DeFour dart around the kitchen, collecting her handbag and keys before she bade them goodbye. Ms. DeFour worked three jobs-often two jobs in one day-to support her three boys. Despite this, Ms. DeFour had always been nothing but polite to Kaz, had always been the strict yet understanding mother that Erik, Jay, and Marcus needed and had always placed the needs of her children above all else. Since Kaz was old enough to understand Ms. DeFour's sacrifice she had always held a deep respect for the woman.

"Hey, Klara!"

Kaz turned, having already put away her plate and prepared to go home. It was about 6 in the afternoon at this point and she wanted to sneak in a nap before she, too, had to hurry off for work.

Jay stood there, his face adorned with a knowing smirk as he pushed The Lord of the Rings into her hands. "You almost forgot this."

"Oh, right," Kaz replied, managing to muster a chagrined expression as she accepted the novel, "Whoops, thank you," She had not forgotten, and they both knew it.

"Well, later man. It's been fun, we should do this more often."

Jay's smirk transformed into a lopsided grin, "Don't be a stranger, shortstuff."

As he waved her out of the apartment, Kaz's smile persisted all the way down the hall. Her and Jay knew full well that she'll see the boys tomorrow… and the day after that… and the day after that. The playful exchange, which they engaged in nearly every time it was time for Kaz to leave, was really just her and Jay being farcical.

When she approached her door, apartment 303, Kaz's smile faded as she wondered whether her dad would be home. Like Ms. DeFour, her father was often out working long hours at the 24-hour gas station, Zachary's, around the block. A couple years ago he had obtained ownership of the place and now Kaz only saw him in passing, if that.

She wandered into the small, two bedroom apartment complex. The apartment had the same layout as the DeFours', so Kaz had a reoccurring sense of déjà vu as she dropped the book and her crumpled bandana on the table, wandering into the kitchen and peering into the refrigerator without much expectation. The refrigerator was vacant save for a half-eaten burger from the joint down the street.

Good, he ate, Kaz thought, closing the fridge door and making her way towards her bedroom. She often worried about her dad—the long hours and stress from his new occupation had resulted in him losing a dangerous and unnecessary amount of weight. It seemed that whenever she caught a glimpse of him rushing around and out the door he seemed even thinner. So whenever Kaz saw him she would often harp on him about his weight (or lack thereof). When Kaz suspected he didn't eat she would often slap a sandwich or something together and run it to him.

"Just wait, Klara," her dad would exclaim, eyes bright with exhilaration, "Just you wait. Unlike 'er last owners, I actually knowhow to run this gas station. I'll get 'er all fixed up, hire more help, and we'll be turning profits in no time. I'll even get you into gymnastics again, isn't that great Klare-bear?"

That had been a year ago, and at this point Kaz would trade all the gymnastics lessons in the world to just stop having to witness the slow deterioration of her dad.

Kaz sighed, flopping onto her bed and pulling out her phone. She located the video that her and Erik shot today and replayed it, squinting at the tiny screen with a critical eye. I hesitated too long before the backflip, she thought to herself, rolling her eyes.Stupid. Looks like she won't be loading this one on YouTube. In addition, Kaz realized with dismay that the phone did not have a zoom feature.

Maybe Erik would be up to helping her out again tomorrow, granted it didn't snow. When leaving, the sky seemed very pregnant with moisture and it was certainly cold enough for it.

She rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. One more day of work, and then she could goof off with the boys all weekend. She couldn't wait. In a sudden stab of guilt, she realized that Jay would be badgering her the next couple of days about reading that book.

With sudden resolve, Kaz got to her feet and ventured back into the kitchen, snatching up The Lord of the Rings from the dining room table and flopped back onto her bed with it. Holding it out over her head, she felt very proud of herself—this was the first time Kaz had even opened one of the books Jay had gifted her with. Perhaps it was his firm insistence this time around that had finally spurred her to action.

"Now what's so special about you, huh?" Kaz mused, flipping to the first page.

When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.

"Alright, that's enough!" she announced to no-one in particular, closing the book with a snap and dropping it onto her end table. Though it was only the first sentence in the very, very long book, Kaz was still proud of herself for her feat. It had been since high school since she had really ever read anything—and even then Kaz utilized sites like Sparknotes and Cliffnotes as crutches. Not that she'd ever admit it.

Kaz proceeded to dump the contents of her cargo pants onto the table, removing her shoes and bra and pulling a beanie over her pink head. To conserve energy her dad kept the place chilly in the wintertime and warm in the summertime. She often woke up shivering and swore that she could see her breath, yet her dad would fervidly scold her whenever she dared fiddle with the thermostat.

So, Kaz curled up-still clothed in the jacket, pants, and socks she wore outside-and set her alarm on her phone to wake her 3 hours from now. Perhaps getting a few extra winks of sleep would help her survive another night at work.