#fff65

@flashfictionfridayofficial​

A/N: I have no idea where this came from. Just popped into my head.

Word Count: 143

She was made from stardust, they said

Created by the cosmos, a wonder to behold.

Ethereal? Absolutely.

Celestial? Definitely.

But was she real? Was she really, truly, flesh-and-blood real?

An actual human being?

No one knew.

Questions with no answers, with no purpose other than speculation, danced on the tongues of the townspeople.

Years passed, then centuries, and all the while the young girl continued to exist.

Some say she danced on water, as light and gentle and easy as a breeze of wind on a soft September evening.

Some say she tiptoed through the woods, weaving between the branches like silver gossamer.

People passed stories of the magical dancing girl down to their children, who then passed it to their children, and so on. An era of magic. An era of beauty.

An era of love, of light.

She was older than everything in the valley below her. Well, everything alive. Harry plunked down next to her, a waft of pine hitting her nose.

“All set,” he said brightly.

“Shouldn’t you be a little less cherry about this?”

“What? No one’s lived down there for twenty years,” he said, waving a hand at the crumbling town beneath them.

“They evicted people last week.”

“Well, no one important.”

“Why do we do this,” she muttered. To herself. She knew what Harry’s answer was going to be. She turned her head on her hands and mouthed the words as he said, “For money, which can be exchanged for goods and services.”

“It’s a ghost town,” he added.

“I don’t think you can call it a ghost town when there were literally people living here last week.”

The strike of a match

Meets the dying flame

She crumbles to ash

And calls out her name

But stopped not is fate

By the match being struck

As time does not wait

For a stroke of pure luck

She's told nothing changes

That you can't fix the past

But she's better than this

And she won't let them last

...

Her eyes never truly open

And she never truly sees

How much has been broken

In her longing for peace

The flame would be killed

As she opened her eyes

To see past the instilled

To see through the disguise

She's told not to take risks

That this is her fate

That she's better than this

She's knows better than hate

...

Two girls finally realize

Connected by blood

They open their eyes

And prepare for the flood

One spoke but didn't know

One knew but didn't speak

But the truth now could show

When the sun hit its peak

So now the clock ticks

And the sun turns to black

They're better than this

And now they're fighting back

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve done a flash fiction friday and I thought that this prompt was perfect.  I know I could have done much better with this prompt and did a lot of different things.  But I figured I’d revisit my oldest WIP that I’m still trying to figure out for this one.  It’s based on one of the ending that I had planned for it (but didn’t use). @flashfictionfridayofficial​

200 words (exactly :0)

--

“Where are you going?” Nathaniel asked me, he leaned on the railing, watching as I stuffed my feet into my boots.

“What does it matter to you?” I responded, grabbing my coat off the hook.

“It’s below freezing out,” Nathaniel limped the rest of the way down the stairs. 

“Okay, I have my coat,” I licked my lips, he stared at me unblinking.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Nathaniel grabbed my wrist, his hands were cold and it sent shivers down my spine.

“And what exactly am I trying to do?” I said, trying to pull my arm away, but his grip was surprisingly tight.

“The Johnson house.  I know what you’re doing.  You’re better than this Maddie,” Nathaniel’s tone was cold, the look in his eyes scared me.

“I’m only going to see something, I’ll be back in an hour at most.”

Nathaniel blinked, after a long beat, he finally released his grip, “fine.  You won’t like what you’ll find though.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I furrowed my eyebrows, struggling to zip my coat.

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[FFF65 Better Than This]

worlds away. by @astralis-elysian​

The End of the End Before the Beginning by @readingbooksinisrael​

Better Than This by @pertinax--loculos​

Deep In My Heart by @stories-by-rie​

.On Her Heels. by @grimnoir-writes​

Make it Better by @glitterandstarshine​

I fight every day by @viawrites-andacts​

Better Than This by @miriamandvictoria​

LAST NIGHT OUT by @leather-snow​

An Aesthete of Death by @mortallynuttyqueen​

Better Than This by @incandescent-creativity​

Better Than This by @random-chaos-thoughts​

Better Than This by @vexed-hexed-perplexed​

Better Than This by @ardawyn

Better Than This by @jewellsfrommaruss​

The lid of the world cannot be opened from the inside by @storyunrelated​

Better Than What Was by @goblin-writer​

I Can Do Better by @borealwrites​

Better Than This by @phantom-does-a-thing​

Better Than This by @pen-of-roses​

wanton, lewd, lascivious by @writingcuredmyfrown​

Better Than This by @beemouthsips​

Better Than This by @cirianne​

In Pursuit of Fairytales by @starklyscifi​

Heart by @writingamongthecoloredroses​

Better Than This by @thewordsinthesky-andstars​

Better Than This by @hell-yeah-fantasy​

Card Games by @starrosefics​

Swashbuckling Rose by @iron-rebel​

Better by @clad-in-sunshine​

Better Than This by @procrastinatingwriter05​

Treetops and Tuxedos by @pamsdrabbles​

Blessings by @moonypleasewrite

Get You Out of There by @musings-and-writings​

Our Corner of Perfection by @mango-of-the-void​

How it once was will never be again by @adie-dee​

better than this by @oceanicquill​

Coping Mechanisms by @themappedlands-btb​

Better Than This by @pheita​

Better Than This by @inkteacup​

Vive La Révolution by @houser-of-stories​

I wanted to be a pediatrician for about five minutes of my childhood. Then a nurse. Why the downgrade, you may ask, well, women don't aim to high in my family for very long. My mom dreamed big things too but she was a nurse’s aid. Not a bad job but, she was better then that.

Better then a man who beat her, raped her, silenced her voice. Silenced her daughters too. For the longest time. Leaving him when I was 12 helped. We could breath some. Heading back to her first home, where my grandma tried hard to undo the damage caused by my father. Maybe she would have succeeded were it not for my mom meeting my step father. Only 3 years older then myself. Doomed to fail.

She fell hard for him so the crash when it ended, was great. But before that, my mom had taught me one thing, unintended, but still very much pounded in my subconscious: you need a man to be whole, happy. So after high school, instead of accepting a scholarship to the college of my choice to study to be a nurse, for her happiness, I traveled with her, my step-dad, and younger brother, across Tennessee. We ended up homeless. We were better then that. Better then camping in public parks, better then food pantries in cities we were just supposed to be passing through.

In one of those cities, I meet the man that would take my virginity and steal my class ring. In the same, the man, old enough to be my father ( mom and I had a theme going) who would become the father of my first son. He didn’t stick around to see him born. My boy deserved better then that.

My step-dad cheated on my mom and impregnated the girl. I was a mom four times over by the time it ended. He was the only grandpa they knew, as strange as that is. Their grandma was depressed. We all deserved better. Their mom wasn’t a doctor or nurse. Their grandma wasn't a social worker. Those strong dreams were beating out of us by the men we chose and the men our mom's did.

I tried hard to be both mom and dad to them. For the times their dad wasn't around. But I was damaged. Damaged by generations of strong women being weakened by their choice in men. My boys are all grown up now. Living independently. I am proud of that. Good uncles and fathers. My grandbabies another chance to get it right. To show them, especially my granddaughter, just how much she deserves. That she can be better then the choices her matriarchs made.