#elysenight

Despite the chilly fall day the sun shone brightly through the large library windows comfortably warming the building and casting perfect lighting to work or read by in the late afternoon. The library wasn’t Tia’s favorite place though somedays she greatly enjoyed being there. Usually she’d rather be outside in the sunshine with lots of noise and other things going on. But when you needed to get something done, it was a good place to go. Which is why she planned to surprise Elyse there.

She quietly snuck around the library searching through the book racks and desks hoping to catch sight of her fellow sorority sister. She wanted the others opinion on a party that was in the works. Albeit the party was weeks away but one could never be too prepared or at least that’s how Tia saw it. She kept her notebook clutched tightly to her chest, looking for any sign of her friend until finally catching sight of her. A small excited gasp escaped Tia before a wide grin spread across her face. She slowly crept up on the girl, peeked around to see what she was doing and questioned “What’cha doing?”

it’s supposed to be a release.  the movement of her body and the flames dancing are her therapy.  in those few moments , the issues that plague her mind are gone and she can relax and get a much needed release of seratonin.  but tonight wasn’t like most.  aparently the issues on her mind had been too heavy to heave off her shoulders for her short performance.  her fire had been difficult to call from her stomach and there were times during her routine where she felt her control wain for just a moment and some tendrils would go flying off of her.  no one got singed , but as her mind dwelled on how much she had fought to regain control of her flames , it only angered her further. 

she’d done her piece and left the stage.  all the other performers knew not to talk to an angry beast and so let her pass to her dressing room.  zahra changed from the dazzling dress back into her jeans and jacket and headed for the door the moment the boss had given the ok.  she’d slammed it open , perhaps too forcefully , and made her way out onto the street where she aimed her body home.  

and that’s where she had expected to take out her irritation , had another not crossed her path moments after she’d left the building.  she simply didn’t care why the other had been in her way.  nor for the fact that she’d probably scared the girl with the slam of metal against brick and the vexation in her tone when she’d voiced a stout   ❝  excuse me.  ❞

“me too,” florence says immediately. 

it’s an instinct more than anything. it’s not a great response, to just go oh yeah, haha, i too would immediately fuck up a wish, no holds barred, but it’s probably honest. she wouldn’t even know what to wish for, or what would be best for herself. she wouldn’t know whether to wish for something big and cliche like world peace or the end of climate change, or if she should try to make her life, however long or short it’s going to be, a modicum better for herself. that’s really a good question to ask yourself, probably. just in case you ever happen to run into a wish-related situation.

she laughs a little to herself, rubbing at the back of her head. when she was a kid, her and her sister used to play a game to practice wishes. some kids wish because they want to get out of bad situations, because all they’ve got is wishes. her life wasn’t that bad when she was a kid. but they both liked to practice at things to get better. her sister was the sports kid, and florence was the one who sat there looking at photos and moving pictures and thought that she could do that. so they’d tell each other wishes, more and more extraordinary and overblown, until one of them broke and started laughing.

things were simple then. the act of wishing was simple and harmless and didn’t feel like it was invoking something bad to happen, or like it was somehow a mistake. it feels like that now. like anyone in their twenties, florence spends a lot of her spare time on her couch thinking about how things could be rather than how they are. and maybe that’s a kind of wishing too. a hypothetical built up so big that it consumes the brain.

“most people would fuck up one wish, though,” she says. maybe that’s true. maybe it’s her just trying to reassure herself. it must be normal, to make that kind of mistake, because if it’s abnormal then she really is a failure in that too. “like, come on? one wish? to try to fix everything wrong in your life or in the world? that’s crazy. no one could pull that off, not even the smartest people on earth.”

it’s reassuring. to think that everyone is wallowing around in the same way. that no one really knows what they’re doing. that no one has purpose, and everyone who does, like silicon valley guys or famous artists or even the guy who works at the gas station and fully believes that his destiny, are just pretending because it’s easier that way. and maybe that’s it. maybe things are that similar.

hear this: noah loves her girls.  if there is anything close to the family that she misses, wants to have and to hold close to her, it’s these wild young things that race around their house and giggle their secrets to one another.  she cherishes every dinner together.  the evenings that they speak together, groups or singular, that one of them needs noah’s help and ends up curled in her arms as they cradle each other.  they’re hears, one way or another.  she fought tooth and nail to get them.  

that breeds a sort of codependency though, something that noah doesn’t really have the words for even when talking to herself.  it’s just always there.  some dark mass looming in her mind that’s beaten back by all the good moments, eagerly waiting for the bad ones.  licking at its teeth and gnashing them if noah even dares to look at that monster for more than a moment.  so she keeps her eyes down.  ignores the beast as best as she can, except –

sometimes, the good moments get put on hold.  sometimes it’s a really hard day at work, and there’s a fight with a student who quits class because something that noah knows she shouldn’t have said is the final straw on that camel’s back.  sometimes you come home and find out none of the sisters are going to be around for dinner other than elyse, that they’ve all made plans or have work and no one thought to mention it.  

and sometimes, just very fucking rarely, that’s your final straw for your back, and you just have to hold back the very toxic urge to burst into tears.  noah would know.  she’s doing it now, small sounds from her throat that she can’t hold back like wheezing exhales and sniffling.  more like allergies than sadness, she thinks, fighting the urge to wipe at her still dry eyes with her sleeve.  that feels too much like giving in.  

just focus, noah tells herself, cut the goddamn vegetables, you still have to feed elyse and she’s still doing her homework not ten feet away from you.  relax.

except it doesn’t work like that.  elyse is too keen for her own good, keen enough that even the humor in her voice isn’t enough to stop noah’s voice from breaking when she tries to reply.  cracking over i, not even a single vowel able to slip from her teeth without sounding wretched.  she shakes her head.  swallows.  tries again.

     “i’m just feeling lonely.  you know, it’s– it’s been a bad day, hon, and i was looking forward to seeing all the girls at dinner.  but i’m so glad you’re here, i’m not trying too-” and there it goes again, breaking over undermine as noah sniffles louder.  “sorry.  i’ll be okay.”