#*evan

Never really were.

It’s quiet and you’re floating and there’s gaps, just here, between your fingers. Where water falls through, sand, time. Easy to lose track, when everything is dark, and you look to the sky, finding nothing. Seeing nothing. 

Are your eyes even open? That’s the question you don’t want to ask, as it means you go to open your mouth, but there’s never any noise. Maybe a rush of blood. Water. Sand. Time. 

Grass? Sharper in shape, familiar. You remember this sensation, don’t you. Barefoot, stains on jeans. Feel it your elbows, itchy, can’t scratch. Stuck again. Not meant to be here.

Weird to think that this comes in motions. In waves. Where the silence stretches and you just exist, until you remember water, grass, watching the sky.

Look to the sky? Dark. Heavy. Wave your hand in front and oh! Since when could you do that? Again. Third time’s the charm. Keep it going until your arms are sore and the world goes horizontal. 

Still awake. Not here. Floating along and wanting to raise your arms up again. It’s a jolt, of life, that you hadn’t thought possible. The resignation was heavy, holding you back. Keeping you here, hidden. 

You have to blame someone else, because it’s sticky as you push yourself up. Try and fight and muster that effort into the dark. See the how the dark bleeds red, and you count yourself lucky, that you were never here. That you never faded entirely. 

Sand? Time? A rush around your ankles, you’re up again, can’t keep track now. There had been a rhythm, but it’s shattered pieces in front now. When did a light shine once more? You need. You need to wake up. 

One foot in front of the other. Sludge around your ankles, water gone. Are you even walking along the ground? Or is it the sky? At the threshold of this reality, where you can see your legs, detached and awkward, and keep on.  

Blink. Force your eyes open. Wake up! Wake up! Everything is red.

Fractal, corner of your eyes, you witness the wake. A crash that you can’t hear, cascade of light cutting through, blowing away everything. You. Only ever you. 

Count them. Twelve. Twelve. Shots of light that hit the ground with colours you don’t remember, moving the grass, the sand. The water. Like a meteor shower, right here, inside you. Mind’s eye, the stark waves of it all breaking you up. Resetting you in so many ways, you don’t know if you’d be able to understand. 

Are you really here for this? You never were before. One foot in front of the other. Out of the dark, the red. Can’t stop the smile, as you watch lucky number thirteen strike in front of you, dead centre. 

Wow that’s rude?? 

I tend to do drafts in short bits. I’ve been working on them a little bit every day. But you know what? I work 5 days a week- and also I just got back from a short vacation that I wanted to enjoy so I wasn’t stressing about writing. My time is precious and while I adore RPing I’m not going to spend every moment of my free time on it.