flying without wings

Nina sits in the middle of the Amish Market. It smells nothing of home, something she does take comfort in. She begins to recognize some of the faces around her, which she doesn’t take comfort in. It’s odd, starting over again. She’s taken to the idea of not being known by others…and sitting here in the marketplace staring at everyone with a pencil in hand continues to bring her odd looks. She knows she’s bringing the stares upon herself, but that doesn’t make her feel any better either. Perhaps it’s just what she deserves - stare at others and get stared back.

She adds a final line to the page in her hand. She’s satisfied, and leaves her perch behind, walks between the tables, and offers the page she pulled from her book to the person sitting down. “Here,” She holds the page out and hopes they don’t consider her a creep for taking the time to draw them. She doesn’t do this sort of thing, but it became a practice in lighting and stature and bravery. She thinks it would be weirder to keep the drawing for herself.

“I…thought the way you were sitting there looked interesting,” Nina admits. “Have it. It is you, after all. You can throw it away if you want to. I don’t care. But it is yours.”

jessica has been taking advantage of her spare time to go outside and making the most of it lately. who can blame her? after having stuck using crutches for a few months she’s finally ready to be released into the wild again and she has never looked back much ever since. as someone who was once a homebody, it’s an unfortunate sequence of events in order to kick her gears and yet she no longer sticks herself too much inside her house anymore. there will come the time that she’ll grow tired of it, jess is sure, but for now she prefers to enjoy what she can get while she can get it. the author has been sitting on her own for awhile, never minding it when she has to be by herself and actually preferring it now that she doesn’t have her mum nosing around her path like a puppy. 

there has been no inspiration much to her dismay. her mind coming up blank whenever she tries to jot down something on paper and countless hours on the internet hasn’t been beneficial. all she can hear about is the open mic that’s supposed to be happening soon and she doesn’t know if it’s too late for her too apply. it’s not like there’s much she can show off, the musical bone in her body has faded over the years. clicking on a few more pages, jessica is a bit startled when a person comes up to her. the nature of the conversation is unique and a bright chuckle flies off her mouth. “oh, isn’t this a surprise?” she laughs and while she doesn’t want to sound conceited or vain by praising her own looks, she nods her head in appreciation. “you did great. i love it.” she says, civil as ever. “are you sure you’re giving me this for free? I could pay if you’d like, or at least let me buy you coffee or something.” 

“malbec, and pinot noir for sure. i know they might seem excruciatingly grandiose but i have never been one to go for anything too strong or half - arsed in quality. my parents introduced me to these a long time ago.”

You know what they say, one person loses a pair of crutches and another one gains them. ( Is that what they say? She thought she recalled Diego grunting some superstition like that scraping at his dinner one evening — or maybe she was thinking of an eye for an eye, which now held a doubly treacherous meaning now. ) Nevertheless, met with the sight of her lover’s close friend standing on her own two feet was a splendid sight worth redeeming a thousand bad eves, and she couldn’t contain the excitement that burbled to the surface urgently. Her painted lips parted a grin that touted ivory rows, beaming at the younger woman and enthusing, “Jess! You’re looking so well. I’m so happy to see you.” Anabelle was akin to a loyal collie, it seemed, when her friends would vanish from her contact book for an lengthy period: there was never a query as to why they had nosedived from her social circle, nor did she spare them any judgement for their lack of availability. Having her own businesses to tend to kept her nose to the grindstone, tacking on a bedraggled spouse who was out for an eye, and spending the majority of her evenings sitting on the couch managing the two older children and nestling close to her loved one. Warmth radiated from her as she hoisted the toddler into a position that evenly distributed her weight ( everyone was getting so big, and Diego’s son could no longer be packed around like a dog on a toboggan ), dubiety filtering through if a touch of any kind would be welcomed. What Jessica had been through during the Spookfest was traumatic — and that was labelling it politely. Keeping in mind the boundaries of her wife’s rigid posture and muscles reluctant to deliquesce when they were younger, she chose to use the rule of hands to herself and scour her welcome with the blonde. “Does that sound good to you, Claire?” she encouraged, looking down at the girl in her arms and grinning around her chubby digits. Anabelle chuckled, briefly shifting her focus to request a handful from the shopkeep and then shaking her head, the smile resilient upon her sprightly features. “Nah, ain’t much of a chocolates girl. I’ve got some butterscotch at home — tempting as the lollipops are. What about you? Got a sweet tooth craving, or are ya giving it away?”

ana’s good spirits are commendable. beacons of light are desperately needed here and jessica thinks ana is one of the people who can bring just that. she can’t say the same for others or even herself, the liveliness that she had eaten away by her own downfall but she has seen her friend foundering then prevailing back to her feet again. she could use some of that push, even when she has begun to recuperate now. her dashing greeting is welcomed and jessica’s little smile reaches her eyes when she responds. “happy to see you too. it’s been awhile, no?” she can’t remember their last engagement well, the memories revolving around her accident gloomy as she tries to keep shoving them under the rug. it was a dark time and the same holds true with the recent ordeals, she was just lucky to not have been as involved out this time. still, she feels bad for those who were and she has made an oath to herself to visit her childhood friend when she has the time and enough self - assurance to do it. what can she say? she’s a bit embarassed for all her failures and jessica has said awful things that she didn’t mean during her retrieval out of distress. it would be egotisical of her to assume people would be fine with it, no matter how close they are. jessica is close to giving the woman a hug, alas she thinks it’s not a good just yet with the child in her arms so she  all but resolves with a soft grin and a nod. “she’s so cute. howl old is she?” she asks. naturally, jessica is decent with children. her passion at one point had been to create as many children stories as she could before shifting gears and those times hold a place that she’s very fond of in her heart. “i only have a cracking sweet tooth for cadburry’s. does that count?” she laughs. “my mum, she would always fret about it  but no, not right now, i just thought i would stock up my cabinet again since it’s been awhile since i last went out to get candy. i’d like to be prepared, incase a cookie monster decides to pay a visit, am i right?” jessica jokes, partly teasing the child. looking at her mother again brightly, she nods. “how have you been? i feel like there’s a lot that i need to catch up on.” 

[ location: outside fitness centre. ] 

Nightmares came easy for ones who had lived through some shit calamities in their lives, those smothering talons that crept behind closed eyelids to scrawl and wrench down the rabbithole — and Heather was, by no means, an exception to that. The thing was, it wasn’t like her to doze into slumber so facilely in public like this, or at all for that matter, not without a certain redheaded presence by her side, but a lot had tugged on her fatigue a lot more than they used to. Adjusting to the loss of a vision wasn’t as cushy as she’d once thought, having to re-learn to perform mundane activities that caused harsh lines to appear more often and exhaustion to just clamber over her shoulders, just like now. The brunette rancher had fallen asleep on the bench outside the sport centre she typically frequented to, desiring to get her tense muscles going again, and though she seemed stoic with her crossed arms and statue-like posture, it didn’t take long until she started grunting as if she were in pain. Scowl forming and clenched fists tigtening, it continued for about a minute until there was a lurch in that mucked-up version of la-la land and jolt her up, one eye that wasn’t shielded by her eyepatch sprang open and she jerked awake. Confusion left her rattled, and she had to shut gaze for several more seconds to remember where and who she was. “Shit,” pinching the bridge of her nose, she slumped forth with elbows on her knees, suddenly there was another presence next to her. Jaw clamped, she acknowledged them with a cursory glance. “Sorry— that musta’ been awkward.” Closing leather jacket tighter around her, the mother of four stumbled for a pack in her pocket. “How long have you been here? Catch all’a that?”

see, when you’ve been friends with someone long enough to remember they have at least helped change your diapers once (and heather doesn’t let go of that to jessica’s own dismay) you’d catch up their habits conclusively and she knows of her friend’s battle with sleep. doesn’t know why, doesn’t know where it comes from. but she knows and it stops her in her tracks when she sees it, with her instructor prying herself behind to attend to another client of hers. jessica has bent over backwards to get to where she was before tragedy struck and suffice to say it has not been a walk in the park. walking therapy takes a great wedge of her life, but she’s coming out of the cave for the first time and is trying to learn how to adjust to the society again. the author wipes off sweat of her puffed cheeks and approaches her, if there’s anything that she remembers about the old times is that poking her when she isn’t ready wouldn’t be wise so she waits until the tirade of noises has died down and offers a tilt of her head. it’s still off - putting to see her lacking an eye, but jessica feels bad for thinking it was a miracle that heather has only lost an eye after everything she’s been through. in those years before jessica was introduced to her newfound family and vaguely during their childhood. “bad dreams again?” she says casually, moving to take a seat beside the woman. she doesn’t know if she should be barging with questions, not now, she knows heather might not be present just yet. instead, she offers a bottle of water to her. “i did. sounded like a pretty eventful one.” she half - teases but continues to offer the drink. “do you need a second?” 

[ maria’s sweet somethings. ]

The redhead had been caught between a rock and hard place ( a smudge literally ) for budging fifteen minutes now, pining over the giant double-flavored sucker and the watermelon rock candy in the display. Her soft spot for sweets was swayed to harder candies when she had lived out in Nevada, spending afternoons sitting on the porch and suckling on butterscotch like an old woman as her tattooed digits flipped the pages of a cheesy romance novel. With a stack of shopping bags on her arm and clinging to her three year old daughter’s hand with the other, the so-called witch was torn over which to pick and bring home to dine later when she wanted something to grind her teeth into as she laid in bed reading the latest fashion magazine. ( And a little something that would, hopefully, lift her pirate-eyed brunette’s spirits. ) By the time she registered the person waiting behind her in line, Anabelle was shy of smacking her nose into the display case and her daughter was antsy to be collected into her mother’s arms. Lifting the blonde girl up, she smiled sheepishly at the person who had sidled up behind her and gave an equally apologetic look to the shopkeeper who had been waiting ( with the patience of a saint ) for an excruciating amount of time. “Aw, damn, didn’t realize I was attracting my own crowd now —” She paused, glancing to the display case and dimpling her cheeks with a warm smile, hoping to ease any animosity that she might have fostered ( some folk led the fast lane lifestyle, after all, driving around others over the speed limit and throttling cashiers in retail ). “Think ya could give me your opinion if you’ve had any’a this?” she asked, tapping her manicured nails against the glass.

happy to have been released from her crutches, jess has made it a habit to take a languid stroll downtown to help her decompress. nothing about this place can really be confided in anymore and she takes her recuperation with a grain of salt, conscious of the events that happened at the blackwell party. she has been trying to reconcile with adrian but it feels so dreary with these little tragedies and she has fixated most of her time on her own health. really, the last thing that was on her mind was getting warm and cosy when she had no idea if she’d ever bounce back to the person she had been before the stabbing. she’s getting there, though or so she tries to convince herself once she has gained enough strength to lift up without the help of anything or anyone. when she doesn’t feel like she’s about to crumble with just a cinch of the wind maybe she can finally emphasis on her relationship with adrian, she has written her own love letter for him afterall. added with a bright lipstick mark as a footnote and a giggle she kept to herself. today, jessica has decided a visit to maria’s, wanting to indulge in some sweets. soon as she walks past through the door, she’s welcomed by a familiar face and the one she has not seen in awhile thanks to her own self made insulation. jess feels regret for not keeping in contact but it was hard to do anything simple by her own, let alone update her condition to her friends. she offers a small smile at the duo, and shakes her head to let her know she doesn’t mind waiting at all. “get the miniature cup reese’s. you can never go wrong with them.” she suggests. “are you getting some for yourself as well?” 

Eating was easily one of Beckett’s top five favorite past times, and it wasn’t unusual to find his tall frame folded up in a booth or taking up an entire side of a table at one of the eateries in town.  He had been watching Jessica quietly - it was a little hard not to - since she had gotten there, and as coincident would have it, he was getting up to go grab a few more napkins as the girl tapped him.  “Hm?  Oh, sure,” he waved at his table after her question.  “Did you wanna take a seat while I go get it?  You’re free to keep me company when I get back, but at the very least you can make sure no one spits in my food while I’m in there, right?”

She appreciates him not coddling her. She doesn’t think she could take it anymore since her mum has practically treated her like glass. It’s understandable, she’s their only daughter and she has been made almost dysfunctional since the incident, but if others treat her like such, Jessica doesn’t know if she has the capability to not break down. “I can do that.” She replies. He’s not someone that she knows well but looks like she could count on him. There’s that pull again toward the uncharted territories, the people that don’t look like those she grew up with. Snobbish and well dressed and too fearful to utter a cussing word. Jessica doesn’t know why she’s so interested in the opposites, but she chalks it as her penchant for unravelling mysteries. “Don’t worry, I’m not that kind of person. If anything, if there’s something else you’d like to add to your menu, it’s on me.” Money has never been an issue for her. “I’ll be waiting. Thank you.” 

it took adrian a second, but when he realized who he’d almost stolen the squash from, his stomach flopped. he hadn’t seen jess since the accident. seeing her on crutches made his heart hurt, she deserved so much better. she deserved better than adrian. he’d struggled so much with going to see her. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he just wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle seeing her in such a fragile state without getting upset and the last thing she needed was to see him upset. he swallowed hard and took a moment to just stare at her. even in her wounded state, she was beautiful. suddenly a stranger bumped shoulders with adrian and it almost knocked him back into reality. “hi…jess…”, he said, looking at her and swallowing hard again. “no, no. please take it. i insist. i’ll take another.”, he said, holding the squash out to her. the last thing he wanted was to make the situation weird but in true adrian fashion he was struggling to speak and he worried it was making her uncomfortable. “it’s um…its good to see you. can i um…can i help you shop?”

Jess tries to bite her tongue. Ever since the accident she’s been conscientous of her own image and on how people would apprehend her. Ironic how she goes out of her way in her books to assure once someone has been given love the outer appearance would not matter as much, but she’s chewing her lip now fearing the worst. What if she sees her differently now? Jessica hates being regarded as weak but it feels like it’s all that she is. Jess looks away and avoids his eyes when he gives up on the fruit, shaking her head. If she could curl and hide right now she would. She should have listened to what mum said and stayed home. Become a vegetable maybe, not moving and unable to do anything else. Muttering a thank you and nodding her head, she tries to find her voice again. It’s been a long time since she last saw him. She remembers wanting to just sink into his arms when she felt like she had nowhere else to go. Her problems had been so easy then compared to what she’s facing now. “You can keep me company. I’ve missed you.” She admits, finally looking up. “How have you been? Where have you been?”