She opened her eyes. A breeze was lifting her hair as a bright sunset expanded In the distance. Stars were visible, dotting the sky with their blues and yellows. Swirling among the clouds like paintings from eras past. The grasses shone blue against the bold sky, fighting back at the moon’s beauty, with a piece of its own. The flowers aided the meadow, popping up in just the right places. Bunches of wildflowers perfect for the picking, and blueberry bushes near the tree in which She sat. The blues complemented each other, and the purples added a hue that none other had seen. She has skin as dark as the tree where She perched, black curly strands matching the singed leaves that had been so viciously set fire to. Crickets chirped and bats began to speak as the puddles reflected the galaxies vast glory, sending chills down whoever might be lucky enough to stumble into it. A soft smile formed on her face, and She lifted a weathered hand to the winds. A faint song could be heard, a humming drumming from her throat. It was calm, and She closed her eyes.
Drifting in the wind, Theres tale of a new being. Something big and strong.
This is where you’ve made your error. You see, friend. To be this being, you need not be strong or big. In fact, the lesser so the better. To be what it is, it is almost to be what it’s not. Some face drakons, 9 tailed foxes, and newly erupted challenges from Zeus himself. Others, it’s different. It’s the immense struggle to get up and out of bed each morning, to step into a new day and experience a new dawn. For some, it’s to even engage slightly in conversation when they know their adversary could have a range of responses. It’s to put things into perspective, to dive deep into each hard earned moment. Opia, an intense moment of meeting another’s eyes, like looking through a keyhole unknowing of which way you are looking. This intensity reflects these actions, coming easy to some, and being crushingly hard to others. It is what it means to be brave.
He sat at the table His stomach lurched, he was almost on the verge of throwing up. A few people looked at him, seeming to stare into his soul. “Why aren’t you eating..?” The person seemed to hiss, to click. He took his fork and shakily lifted a piece of the meat to his mouth. He swallowed, and put it back down. It smelled like chicken, but he knew better. The people, no, creatures. They could see through his act. They knew. They know. He stood up. “Thank you for having me, I really mean it, but I have to go.” The creature at the end of the table stood up. “So soon?” They clicked. He nodded. The creature snapped their hand, their human, human like hand. Two creatures walked up behind him. “Woah- hold on, what- what’s up?” They grabbed his arms and dragged him back. It couldn’t be. All because he didn’t eat some chicken meat. No, not chicken meat. Because he knew better.
I blink my eyes once The world shifts underneath me New lives, once again
Another lifetime A new leaf, everyone Beautiful, is it?
The blossoms still bloom Pinks and reds and whites alike My room is the same
I’m lost in the times Watching the world pass me by One life at a time
Different stories But mine, the same forever What is this torture
Flowers I laugh slightly, looking down at those petals, swirling in the pool of blood. I wonder, love, do you like flowers? If I had perhaps gotten you a bouquet.. could my ending have changed? I slowly allowed myself to come to rest in my abomination of self destruction. Would you have loved me back, if I had just brought you a gift? A simple cliche that so many love. I’m not him. It wouldn’t have made a difference, I don’t think. I was just the alternative. The interest no one would have acted on, no matter what I could’ve done. This alleyway is dark. Dark and wet, or maybe it’s my sight fading as I lay in my own blood. I can hardly see my hands. Who knew love could be so horrid. He got you flowers, you know. He gave you everything I wish I could’ve. Maybe if I had said something different, it wouldn’t have turned out this way. I don’t pity myself, though. You’re happy, aren’t you? A cold substance splashed along my face. A tear? That’s funny. Who would cry over me? Oh. I see. The storm clouds are forming now. The sky. The sky is crying over me. I’m sorry to disappoint you, sky, but I cannot be as carefree and lighthearted as your clouds. Perhaps soon. … Rain. Yes, it’s raining again. I do hate rain, it makes the mood quite somber. I smile, and the world falls out of existence.
Not every story has a happy ending.
It’s evening. I step out of bed, grabbing my net. I walk to the door, excitement churning in my gut. Todays my first day, I should call my friend once I finish. Opening my old door, squeaking tearing at my poor hyper sensitive ears, I stepped out into the night. I jumped up, soaring into the sky with amazing strength. It was normal, I hadn’t spent years of preparation for this job for nothing. The airs thin near where I am. That’s alright, just focusing on my breathing helps calm my stomach while it’s turning over. I spin my net, like a color guard flag at a football game. There it was. A twinkle in the sky. I braced myself, and as it rocketed towards me, i raise my net. A loud CRACK burst throughout the air. A glowing rock of a star was in my net. My first catch. I laughed as i murmured something to it. You, little friend, will not cause pollution on my watch. They started penetrating earth around 50 years ago. When the world was supposed to end. However, here we are! We’re alive. I caught a few more stars before dumping them out in the recovery station for them. They’ll be brought to a rehabilitation lab, where they’re finding a way to send these beauty’s back to space. I sigh, and return to the sky. Measuring out each breath is able to make me lighter. A trick people evolved from some anime. Yeah, even I don’t know how that works. I grab onto my net and catch a few more before the sun begins to rise. It’s beautiful. I breath out and begin to relax. It really is lovely. I turn towards the sun and let the warm rays wash over me. That’s when it happens. A bright light filled my gaze, a yell of pain escaping my lungs as a large rock careened into my back. It definitely broke something. Was it a star? It was. Universe, why? I did everything right, I’m trying to help the stars if anything. Free falling. That’s what I remember. The stars crumbling due to the atmospheric pressure. I can already taste the pollution it’ll cause on my tongue. Or, it was blood? I focus on the ever approaching ground, trying to muster up strength. I can’t just die on the first day of work, that’s pathetic. After all those years of preparation? No. I can’t. The smell of smoke catches my throat. I’m traveling too fast, I’ll become what of a shooting star myself if I can’t control my breathing and slow myself down. I cant. I’m hyperventilating. I blink, and the ground is suddenly so, so mich closer. Yells of alarm come from somewhere below me. Ah, right. People will have been awake by this point. How sad. I’m trying, I promise. Something’s telling me to close my eyes, and a burning sensation is beginning to fill my body. The last thing I see is the ground finally reaching my eyes.
Not every story has a happy ending.
The alarm clock goes off. Sitting up, I glance blearily at the wall. A calendar stares back at me, little crosses on every little box. I walk over and cross off the next one. That’s when I see it. Is it that day already? I give the calendar a weary glance and pick up my phone. Flipping it open, I choose a contact and call. After a few simple words back and forth, I’ve chosen the exact time and place to pick up my brother. I throw on a tank top, flannel, and jeans. Pretty basic outfit, with a bit of effort. I grabbed onto a bouquet I’d been preserving and walk out the door. My brother’s House was a few blocks away, and the cemetery even closer. Oh well, I suppose I can’t choose every hangout. As I’m walking to his house, I recall events of the past years. Glass shattering, it was. I can’t put my finger on it, but something stuck with me. I knock on the door, and a blur of a 20 year old engulfs me in a large hug. He’s sobbing now. What a waste of tears. I’ve told him to stop, I swear by it. He never does. He keeps crying to me about how if I’m not up for this, I can stay home. Of course I’m not going to do that. We make our way somberly to a hilltop. Gated by tall, black metal bars. I lay my bouquet down by a small grave. In my opinion, mother didn’t even deserve this small grave here. It’s not that I’m angry. Quite the contrary. I loved her, I really did. My brother probably more than me. It’s not like she did anything too wrong, but some things that happen in the past you just can’t forget. I despised her for quite some time, you know. She would come home drunk often, clinging onto her children like they meant the world to her. It was a nice thought, loving her children even in such a weak mindset, but it was disgusting. She loved us when she was sober, too. We don’t have it bad, and she was honestly a sweet woman. I just never could wrap my head around why she would do these things around children. Though, I suppose I’m being dramatic. She died early, see. The alcohol abuse finally caught up to her one day, and she just collapsed. Leaving two children to fend for themselves. That is why she doesn’t deserve such a nice resting place. I hope she finds peace, I really do. A sound occurs next to me. He’s crying again. I pull him close with an arm, sending a message to a friend of mine with my free hand. I’ll eat well tonight. A little reward for coming here again. Maybe I’ll bring my brother along, as well. All I know is today will be a rough day. Good luck to all out there who have life stories like this.
Not ever story has a true happy ending.
