#fff134

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt FFF138: Tangled in Time. Poetry instead of my usual. Enjoy!)

Here’s to all the goodbyes I never got to say.

Here’s to the cleaned streets, the blue-green of

windows coiling themselves up into skyscrapers, to

contingents of rain-trees fluttering their leaves into

the wind at the start of the monsoon season. To cafés

lining streets, between hotels and universities, to greenery

lush along overhead bridges, to graphic glass scenes

in my favourite train stations, to fat koi swimming beneath

bridges and turtles floating in green ponds.

 Here’s to falling in love with the end of the world.

 Or should I say, at the end of the world? I wouldn’t know—

not that I know anything at all these days. I sift my thoughts into

words, fragments on the backs of bubble tea receipts, onto

ink-stains and oil-stains from that last plate of fried noodles I didn’t

finish. I write love letters where no one can ever read them, to buildings fading even now in memory. I write because I can’t leave anything

 to my own fate.

 Here’s to forcing songs out where no one can hear them.

  I sing only in empty stairwells and in the twisting strands where time

does not touch. In dark rooms where my imagination takes me away

from myself, into a time I almost forget. I kiss the backs of my hands, press

those kisses into walls that night cloaked in shadows, press

frozen moments in time to my heart, twisting myself and turning

into something I forget was once possible.

I say I got lost in time, in place.

 I say that because how else can I say that I never left? That the world

Moved on and I did not. I could not. Not

when the dust of old shophouses clings to me, where

my clothes never fit right the way they once used to, where

I once fought for my life and sometimes, I think I never

left that fight even when it should have saved me. I did not

think my way out, unless you see me in the dark, where dawn did not

touch, still lonely, still craving

 the approval of someone long dead (though I should be old enough

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Word count: 1018

This story is about my FFF131 characters and happens long after in the entire story chronology. Lately I can only write about these characters...

I was desperate and anxious to tell Sierra that... I was in love with her. A giant in love with a little monster... How a thing like that could happen? It doesn’t matter. I had just returned to school after a sick time. The break had just begun and so I had a few minutes to find her to say what needed to be said.

Lucky for me it was easy to find her. Sierra was holding something in her locket when she realized I was getting closer.

“Hi Sierra, can I have a word with you?”

“You know very well that you could only talk to me.” She said laughing softly “I'm glad you're better and you're back in school. What do you want to talk about?”

“Is it that before I tell you we could go to the garden? I think it's more comfortable.”

“That's fine with me, but you're making me curious.”

We went to the garden isolated from everyone, not because I needed after all everyone already moved away from me except Sierra. It's because I felt that was my place, since I spent so much time there.

"So what do you have to say to me?”

I got nervous and it took me a while to talk. Sierra arched her eyebrow, obviously suspicious.

"It's just... Remember when I told you at home that you're important to me? You said you knew that, but I wanted to tell you something else, but I didn't have the guts. I had to think a little more about what I was feeling.”

"And what did you want to tell me that day?”

"I'm going to get to that point. Remember also that you asked me what had happened so you could be so close to me in bed and I didn't answer you? It's just that... I brought you close when you were sleeping...”

"I figured that would have been it, but why did you put me so close that day? And what does that have to do with it?”

"Believe me, it's all about that. I brought you close because I wanted to... Feel you. Feeling you close to me.”

Her arched eyebrow dismantled to become a face of amazement.

"I understand where you're going... "She said with her head down

"Really?” I asked shocked

"Yes, but keep going.”

"It just so happens that... That I love you. That I'm in love with you. That's it. "I finally confessed.

"I already knew, or rather, I imagined.”

What do you mean she already knew? Was it that obvious?

"How did you already know?” I asked amazed

"I realized that your look at me had changed some time ago... It's more intense than before.”

"Oh, of course... "I answered half-bland

"That's not possible... It can only be the work of the spell...”

“Can the effect of your songs last that long? Because it's been a few days since I heard you sing and I was bewitched.”

"No, it never happened to last that long... But it's still not possible.”

"How is it not possible?” I asked

"It's just that no one's ever liked me like that before...”

"Well, for everything there is a first time. And you're wrong if you think no one could like you. "I said, and I touch her chin with the tip of one of my fingers “You're very special, Sierra, don't doubt that.”

I noticed the little one was a little embarrassed after that.

"But what do you say to me?”

"What... Do I tell you?”

“Of course. Do you like me that way too? What's your answer?”

She kept quiet and her head down for a long time, which made me anxious. I wonder what she was thinking about taking so long to answer me. If she wanted to reject me, why were she thinking so much?

"I... "She began by straightening one of the locks of hair "I'm sorry, but... I don't feel the same way about you. I'm sorry, but... I don't love you, Dante.”

Of course, hearing that broke my heart, as much as I'd ever expected it.

"That's because I'm a giant, isn't it?” I asked “Do you also think that...”

"It's nothing like that! I mean, it is, but... You're special too, Dante. I don't give a what the other monsters think of you. I can see for myself that you're gentle and really nice, but I wanted us to stay friends.”

"I'm sorry, Sierra, but you can't go on like this...”

"Why not?”

"Because I can't see you just as a friend anymore...”

"Does that mean that... "She began to cry"; "We won't see each other anymore? Not even be together?”

"Exactly!” I answered

"You can't do that!” She exclaimed, "Do you want to be alone here again?”

"Of course not, but... There's no other way.”

"That's not fair... "She cried tearful

"I don't understand. Why are you so nervous?”

"Because I... Because I'm going to miss you.”

"I'm going to miss you, too." I said, touching my finger on her face once more, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

"Please Dante. At least let us keep seeing each other. I don't want it to end like this." She begged in tears

"I'm sorry, but... It's not going to work anyway.”

Sierra ran out without looking back, still crying, which left me devastated. I even tried to grab her, but she ran off too fast. I had the urge to go after her and even left the garden, but realizing that the mermaid was nowhere to give up. I could find her by the smell, but I thought it over and let Sierra be alone. She probably wouldn't want to be in front of me in that state anymore.

On the way back from school I was still feeling bad and the other days were terrible, both for having to be alone again and for the lack of Sierra's company. She really did me good, but really... I couldn't see her as a friend anymore.

It is the 31st time joining @flashfictionfridayofficial​ ! Thank you for the creative prompt! This is an excerpt from my wip, The Song of the Wind. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 877

T/W: mention of blood

Svedra (she/her): the founder/first ruler of the Kingdom of Iksa. She killed the oppressive overlord Merikh when she was a mere teenager and became the leader of the rebels. However, eventually she started ruling newly conquered clans as well as new allies with heavy hand. 

Myron (they/them): an envoy of the new ally. Disgusted by Svedra’s arrogant attitude and harsh treatment towards new members of the kingdom. They raised their voice against her and that leads to this scene.

Then go ahead and kill me, right here, right now.’ Svedra threw an unsheathed dagger between herself and Myron. The dagger was definitely not an ornamental one - the grip was worn out, yet, its blade was incredibly sharp like a wolf-fang. It must have fed on the blood of hundreds of people. Myron felt a chill running down their spine. They slowly moved their gaze from the dreadful knife, only to find Svedra’s cold, terrifying smile. Her eyes were piercing Myron like a pair of newly forged arrowheads, so sharp that almost unbearable. Myron managed to hold off, looking into her dark, unfathomable eyes. They could tell that she was not joking. Myron felt that everything else was suddenly gone, and only Svedra, the dagger, and the heavy silence were left to exist. No evening sky. No pillars of marble. No trees in the garden. No fragrance of jasmine. In the world almost synonymous with void, Svedra and Myron, they alone were alive. Svedra raised her chin arrogantly, looking at Myron, whose face turned ashen. ‘It was you who said that I am so tyrannical that I deserve death.’ Svedra’s harsh voice echoed in the hollow world. ‘Then you shall be the one to end the ‘tyranny.’’ Like an aggressive hunting dog, Svedra chased Myron to the dead-end. ‘Take that dagger and put an end to this, just like I did two decades ago.’ She slowly stepped forward like a careful jagger, and Myron felt tears welling up in their eyes despite their best effort not to show fear. At the same time, Myron found themselves awed by her dignified manner. It was incredible that Svedra maintained her composure at this moment of life and death. She sure was a warrior who had survived hundreds of battles. ‘This dagger will surely enjoy feasting on my blood - so did it on Merikh’s.’ This time, though, Myron could pick up a subtle change in her voice in a fleeting moment - grief, regret, or nostalgia? Svedra moved swiftly, picking up the dagger. And next moment, Myron felt an icy hilt pointing at them. ‘Take it. Or do you have a heart of a coward? Be true to your word. But remember - it is not the end of the story. Rather, it is a beginning - the fiery dawn that sets the world ablaze. Answer me, what are you going to do now Will you take responsibility  for your deed?’ With a small, sarcastic laugh, she added. ‘Of course, you will. Otherwise, you would not come this far. Now, just do it.’ The silence was so heavy that it could crush Myron into pieces. Yet, under the weight of silence, hundreds of emotions and thoughts were swirling. I cannot go back. But if I go ahead… will that end the oppression? Is she the cause of all evil, the fire burns down my people, my land? I believed so. She is an aggressor, dictator, destroyer. However… Why does she look like a wounded animal? How much blood did she have to shed? She might have lost someone just like all of us...

Svedra observed the trembling young person, barely managing to stand on their feet. They were no match for her obviously, yet they got a gut. Her initial intent was to utterly destroy this reckless one’s pride so that they could never come back to her. But something changed in her heart. She looked into their wide-opened black eyes filled with disgust and disbelief. And in the middle of those emotions, she recognised her own reflection. For the first time in many years, she felt something other than anger and a desire to control. I really might have turned into a beast that I destroyed a long time ago. What an irony - a hunter became a monster.

After all, Myron was not the only one torn apart in a whirlwind of emotions. She took her pride in what she had achieved - she led a rebellion and established the kingdom. Her desire for territories, her fear of civil unrest justified strict punishment. The loss of her loved ones scarred her heart, driving her for revenge. People avoided her burning gaze so that they would not accidentally cause an outburst of her wrath. But Myron did not break eye contact. 

A comforting evening breeze stroked her face. At the same moment, Myron made a move as if pushed by the wind. They grasped the hilt of the dagger abruptly, throwing it aside, and took her battle-hardened hand. The sound of the blade hitting the hard marble floor resounded. ‘I give you my answer.’ Myron’s grip was so tight, telling that nothing could sway their decision. ‘I wish I could kill the beast in you. Nay, I’m going to destroy it.  But this blood-soaked dagger of yours won’t do.’ In their determined face, Svedra saw her younger self for a second - reckless yet determined. High spirited and radiated with hope for a better world. ‘Then?’ She asked calmly. ‘I don’t know. But the death of the beast will bring new dawn - not the one which demands bloodshed, but the one that brings light. And I will take responsibility, I swear.’

The wind rose and embraced both.

‘Then, so be it.’

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt: FFF134 Awaiting Your Answer. Not related to anything else I’m working on. Enjoy!)

There were three times she was asked this question. This was the second.

             She felt the fissure before it happened.

             She felt it the way a daughter knows that something has gone something horribly wrong, even years and thousands of miles away. Her fingers scrabbled in the halting light of the evening sunset through the windows of the bus, digging through her purse for mirrors she hadn’t used in years.

             They wrapped around one: a small white mirror with stained glass on the back. She ignored the feeling of stares around her as the mirror clattered open in her shaking hands, as she lifted it to her mouth to whisper a name.

             There was no response the first few times. She made it the whole bus ride home, unknowing and unseeing as she traced her fingers over little carvings in what would appear to be plastic to anyone else, pressing little tendrils out. She changed the name, whispering a second name.

             She didn’t breathe from where she was sitting at the bus stop, unable to make herself walk home when she got a response. She looked at the familiar and strange face and took in the streaks of dust and blood on it.

             Nova cut her off before she could say anything, voice resonating through her head in that unearthly way she had forgotten in the years since she left. “I need a favour.”

           “What do you need?”

           “Open the gate to Hell. Now.”

           She didn’t deny her knowledge of how to the way she would normally have. The way she had done since she left home. Not when Nova turned the mirror so it faced a body.

             She didn’t even go up to where her home mirror was. All she did was get to a swimming pool, back to the first entrance she had ever used to enter her old home, and walk to where the light faded into water. She reached out, feeling the heat and the freezing bite of the Gate as she pulled it open.

             “Thank you.”

           Before Nova closed the mirror, she shook herself, forcing herself to ask. “Do you know— did they—”

           Nova’s eyes softened, saddened as she shook her head. “I barely got myself and Talvi out. I don’t know.”

           “Take care.”

             It would be another week of waiting. She was at school when she finally got information.

             “Tal’s awake.” Nova shrugged, shifting around uncomfortably in the new armour she had been lent. “She says hi. And that Risa and Kimari didn’t make it out. The rest she doesn’t know. Sorry.”

           “It’s not your fault. Or her fault.”

           “Yeah, also she says you can—”

             “Hello, little one.” She spun around. “It’s been a while.”

           “I’ll call you back.”

           The spirit looked exactly as she had last seen her. Hair catching in the light and shadow where there should be a body.

             She thought that heartfelt and bittersweet reconnections with your old family should maybe not take place in corridors near the toilet, where any of her classmates could walk past and see how she was trying her best not to shatter.

             “I would ask you to come home.” Victia said. “But you know, it’s been destroyed.”

           “So what are you asking me?”

             Victia didn’t respond to the harsh rasp of her voice where she couldn’t control it. She felt a surge of shame litter her veins, before she forced it down again. She was a human; there shouldn’t be any shame in accidentally revealing her emotions.

             “I hear you’ve been talking to the ghosts.”

           “Victia-mira, what do you want?”

           “Do I need to want something to talk to you?” Victia turns her cold silver eyes onto her. “The faerie of the East Winds have settled to the coordinates I’ve provided. Come visit some time.”

             Come home.

---

           The third time she was asked this question was rather like the first in many ways, but also completely different.

             She looked bitterly out along the river, letting the wind curl around her. She was alone again, the same way she had been when the spirits first took her in. Her magic was flaring around her, powerful enough for the rain trees to rustle and for the damp grass to shiver in the breeze.

             “They’re humans.” Victia said, settling next to her. “They won’t understand you.”

             The soft tone of her voice, a mimicry of the comfort afforded to others, was another slap in the face, another reminder of just how she wouldn’t, couldn’t belong with other humans. The spirits had been right to use her, weren’t they, to see the chaos and the destruction she brought everywhere with her and to turn it to their benefit.

             “Little Black Cat.” Victia hummed. “I think I understand better why you chose that name now that I’ve spent proper time here.”

           “Nova’s human. Talvi’s human.”

           Victia shot her a wry look, as if mocking her for being deliberately obtuse. “They’re kyuroi. As are you.”

           A cyclist crossed the bridge, bell clinging and some Cantonese pop song blasting. She thought about telling him that you weren’t supposed to ride your bike over the bridge.

             “You could come home.”

           Victia let it hang in the air for a few seconds, before continuing. “You would be welcome. The Air itself saw your deal with Fire. It was… impressive.”

             Impressive. That was certainly an interesting word to use to describe a deal trading her death for the ability to study. Even if she had been betrayed by everyone around her. Especially because she was betrayed by everyone around her. What else was left but to give up her life too?

             She had only been saved because Nova’s element had been Fire and Earth once upon a time. Nova’s skill, combined with an extraordinary painful purification ritual that had stripped her bare, scalded every single part of her pink and torn a friendship that had nearly killed her apart.

             It had saved her life. At the expense of being alone and insane again.

             She tilted her head up to the wind, feeling it brush against her face like a caress. But that’s what she had learnt from this, wasn’t it? The lesson that the waters of Fate had given her. Nobody promised it would be easy or that she would like it. But home… home was for her to find now.

@flashfictionfridayofficial

This is my entry for today! I didn't expected it to get that angsty but here we are I guess. I enjoy bringing back the character I created for FFF66 and torturing them a little, so enjoy

This is Helen's phone, I'm unavailable at the moment, please leave a message after the tone.

"Hi Love, this is Atticus.

I know I said I would stop doing this but I needed to hear your voice. Maybe you wouldn't want me to do this but tonight that was the only thing that could keep me sane. Keep me going.

I miss you. I miss Cassie; oh Dear Domes Helen, I just realised she would have been eleven next month! We should have had a family. We should have been happy. I remember buying her her first baseball glove and bringing her to her first game. She would have played in the little league, we would have been so proud of her. Both of you were the most precious things in my life. No wonder all feels worthless since...

Well, I still try to live my life, because you would have wanted me too, Helen. Speaking of, do you want to hear the last news from work? Mary and I have to train a rookie! Their name is Scott, he looks like a good kid but far too young to be out of the exterior of the dome every night doing the dirty work. He should be, I don't know, flirting in a bar or worrying about their next class, or maybe sneaking a beer in some park with a bunch of friends, you know! Kid stuff! The stupid things we did when we were their age and no one was looking. That's how we met, remember? A underground party with enough illegal drinking offense to quadruple the monthly figure of the local police station. It was a close call but I think I can say that hiding being an oxygen tank brought us quite close that night! I'll never forget it.

Mary says I'm allowed to move on. I am honestly not certain I can. I'll stay but staying doesn't mean going forward. I'm stuck in the past, Helen my sun, just as much as I am stuck inside the dome: the outside's world exist, but is so deadly that there's no point in even trying to get out. Better stay in what we know. Where it's safe and comfortable and where there's five dozen different substances that can numb out the pain.

I love you Helen, I always have and I always will."

It took all of Atticus' strengh to hang up the phone. His voice had shaken with that last sentence. Damn Earth, he had tru to be so strong! Maybe leaving a message was a bad idea, no it definitely was a bad idea but he couldn't help himself. Not tonight. Not on the fifth anniversary of the day she...

Atticus broke down in silent sob, leaning on doorframe, too weak to stand.

This is sort of @janetm74 fault. She's been trying to get me to write Flash Fiction Fridays for ages. Then she showed me this prompt. My brain went right to my Whumptober story 'Question'.

So here is @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 13: Awaiting Your Answer. Words: 496

...

7 months

212 days

5088 hours

He knew. He'd counted every single one of them.

The first hours had been the easiest, oddly enough. He had still been running on adrenaline and muscle memory. After that, things got hard.

The month of induced coma (30 days - 720 hours) because the shot to the head, while glancing, had turned into a depressed skull fracture. They’d had to cut her hair. That hurt as badly as seeing her in the bed for the first time, still and pale. She’d been hurt before, but not like this. Never like this.

Seeing peridot eyes open, and with intelligence in them (7 days - 168 hours) had given him back his heart.

The next six months (182 days - 4368 hours) had been various levels of hell, for both of them. She didn’t remember how she’d been hurt, and he wouldn’t tell her what they had been doing. He couldn’t ask her, not while she was in the hospital. She’d see it as pity, and would say no for that reason. He couldn’t take that risk. He wore the ring on a chain around his neck. It gave him hope, strength, and the belief that better days were going to come.

Rehab had been rough. The bullet to the arm had damaged the brachial nerve. She’d had to learn not only how to use her arm again, but she’d had to retrain her entire body because of the TBI. Enforced downtime was not something she’d dealt with well.

There had been a couple of screaming matches between them, mostly because of fear. Fear of not getting better. Fear of the other leaving. Not to mention shouting and one actual fight with his brothers over him staying with her. Scott had been angry, Alan scared and worried, and Virgil concerned that he was isolating himself. Oddly enough, it was John that stood by him for all of that, arguing that Gordon was where he needed to be. Comprises had been made, with no one being completely happy but it worked. He kept himself mission-ready, but he still refused to go home until she could.

213 days after that night, he tried again. Once again John was enlisted to help. Any water-based rescues would go to the GDF, and never even show up on Scott’s desk.

Pasir Ris Beach was his choice this time. Lush gardens, a glorious beach, and his beloved ocean. He should have picked this the first time. They walked for a while, they’d be going home to the island tomorrow, but right now it was just them. He’d scouted the beach out, and slowly guided her to a small spit of beach. There was a picnic table there, so they sat to watch the glories of the sunset.

He turned to her, her profile gilded gold. He’d faced harder things, but none this important. “Kayo?”

“Yes.”

“Will you marry me?”