|| -> some sunny day
It was evening that day. The sun still shined, as it sat lazily in the crosshairs between the mountains and the sky in Somewhere Above, as it always had, for the past 100,000 years. If a true appreciator of nature in it’s most raw form were to listen, they’d ought to hear the clear crisp leaves as they swayed, growing back from the bitter winter as it left.
Isabelle shut the door behind her, entering her room as she slowly slid down onto the floor. Back turned to the door. If she was truly unlucky, she'd have someone stab a sword right through the fragile wood door and take her out in one vulnerable, cheap blow.'
She laughed at that thought, but even she knew she was faking it.
Finding the energy to get up, she walked over and dropped a small paper box, white with a red ribbon, onto her desk. She flopped onto her couch-like chair soon after. She felt old and creaky, like a 99 year old mortal grandma.
Perhaps she had become just as cranky as one too.
Her hands expertly, or more so out of habit, dug through her drawers, shuffling through papers and notes and pens and things she didn't want to throw away, as she found what she was looking for: a X-ACTO knife. She attempted to drew it out and hissed immediately.
Her chubby little index finger had unwittingly cut itself on the blade. A small slick of crimson began to seep through the wood. With how the evening light began to pour into her room through the window in front of her- the only window in her room, her blood looked almost seemed to have a golden shimmer rimming its edges.
Yeah, golden. Sure.
She manned up, grabbing the knife properly and leaning sidewards to get something- gauze, or a bandage- to press on her finger. She stuck her index finger into her mouth, without much thought. It was a disgusting habit, one she had picked up unknowingly one day when she was a teenager. One she didn't particularly like, but had no self control over. She might have even berated someone over doing it, saying it was... what were those words again? Uncouth? Ill-mannered? Unsophisticated? Improper?
After getting the bleeding under control (thank goodness for gauze), Isabelle grasped the knife which had caused so much trouble and cut through the ribbon. It would've been much more simple to untie it, but she didn't have much patience for that. Not today, at the very least.
She lifted the white, slightly squished cover, to reveal the little gift inside. A cake, a single slice of vanilla cake, sat inside on a little dish. A lot of people said vanilla tasted plain, boring. Why would anyone buy vanilla when every other flavor existed in the world?
But she didn't want other flavors. She wanted this one. Maybe with fruit on top of it. But she was happy with it.
Taking the cake out of the box, she stuck a candle that came prepackaged inside, right on top of the cake. It squished it down a little, but it was fine. As for lighters...
She looked on her desk and easily, saw one. Lighting the candle, she covered it with her other hand. She still wasn't sure why humans did that. She sat on her chair for a while, watching the warm glow flicker all over her room, now dark from nightfall.
She didn't feel present in that moment. But she sat there. Quiet and still. She felt happy, but was it really happiness? With everything that happened recently, could this really be warmth? Joy?
Happiness was supposed to feel warm. But this warmth only reached her skin. Her insides were solid cold.
...
Humans make wishes when they blow out the candle of their birthday cakes.
...
[ Someone in this world, please remember me. ]
...
[ Happy Birthday, Isabelle. ]
And soon after, the faint warm, golden glow that illuminated her room extinguished. It disappeared, like it never happened, with just a gentle breeze. She felt empty again, feeling hollow, like she just had the wind taken from her lungs, like something was stolen from her.
But the moment passed, and nothing was ever really 'hers' in the first place anyway.
