**_(Warning: Mentions of suicide.)

HILDA _** My mom can go die in hell. My dad along with her. They’re so pushy that it hurts. I hear their concerns and their wishes ringing like a ticking bomb in my head every single second I live. There’s no way to stop it; no way to live in peace. I can never live to their expectations. I can never reach perfection in their eyes.

So why try? Why keep going on in this life? You have no friends, no love, and the only family you have just keeps trying to tear you down.

What’s the point of having your pathetic life if you have nothing going for you?

“Hey, Hilda.”

I swat away the Voice and focus back into reality. I have work to do. The work keeps me going. It’s the only thing that needs me. Or, maybe not need me, but it’s just something to do. “Yes?”

My coworker points his thumb towards the exit of the employee lounge that connects to the shopping building, right outside of the grocery section. “They need you at checkout 6.”

I nod, reaching over the back of my chair to get my vest and name tag.

My Name Is: HILDA ANN ARSONA It’s my pleasure to help you, today!

It’s never a pleasure to greet people who don’t even care who you are. It’s never a pleasure to put on a fake smile for show, to please people, to worship them so you aren’t shunned.

I’m so tired.

Then leave. All you have to do is leave.

A million ways to kill myself run through my mind, but I ignore all of them. I have a job to do. I have shoppers who need me.

They don’t need you. You’re something that’s given to them, handed over like a repetitive toy.

I don’t say anything to that.

“Thank you for shopping at Jal-Mart, ma’am! Have a great day.” I say to the second last shopper who leaves without a glance or a “thank you”.

The smile on my face feels stiff, my shoulders feel tense, and I feel fake fake fake fake. I hate this feeling. I hate myself. I hate everything and everyone.

They know.

They know.

They know my thoughts.

They know everything.

I hate this. I hate this so much.

A brown skinned lady who looks like she has Hispanic origins is my next customer. I hear her by not a “hello”, but by the click! click! click! of her shoes. She sweeps her long, brown ponytail behind her shoulder and gives me a smooth smile. There’s a tall, broad White man beside her, adjusting his glasses as his nostrils flare in my directions. His hair is a shock of red and his dark eyes are searching and hungry. They didn’t look like an couple, not at all, so I didn’t assume.

It was curious.

“Hello, thank you for shopping at Jal-Mart. I hope that your experience was satisfactory.” The words tumble out of me automatically as I take their groceries and place them into bags.

Bread. Mayo. Meat. Cheese. Cereal Bars. An ungodly amount of water bottles and pillows.

“Going camping?” I ask, curious for once.

The lady give me only a smile in answer, she says, “Do you like your job?”

The scanner beeps as I scan the last of their items.

Beep!

Beep!

The only people who ask me that are my parents.

Do you like your job Ann? You probably hate it don’t you? Why don’t you go back to school, get a degree? Marry a doctor, or a lawyer, or at least someone! I want grandchildren. How much longer are you going to be living your life like this. Why are you so lazy. Just get out of that apartment and do something with your life!

I swallow a large lump down my throat and wipe my hand across my face only to find that it’s a cold sweat I’m feeling. It takes me a moment to gather my words, and I realize that I’ve finished bagging up their items.

“Why wouldn’t I? Your total is 34. 78, ma’am.” The man tilts his head as though trying to figure me out. The woman just shakes her head sadly and brings out her card. I swipe it then hand it back. The two grab their bags and head out the store.

The lady turns back suddenly, brown eyes that remind me of caramel wide and bright. “Oh, and thank you Hilda. For the speedy service. Have a great day!”

Click! Click! Click! Is the only sound I hear in my mind. The Voice doesn’t come, and an idea comes into my head.

I need to do something with my life. Without my parents, somewhere where I can get a fresh start.

And then I smile.

“We aren’t weak, you know.”

“I know.”

“You’re an Elf Mystic. You all think we’re weak.”

“You,” Ceilia looked Kali dead in the eyes, “are the farthest thing from weak. Believe me, I’ve been called just as weak as you.”

Kali’s gaze didn’t soften. “We can fight.”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“You think it, though.”

“Even a Typic can fight.”

“You don’t know what it’s like! To be able to fight, to want to fight, to protect yourself, and have all your power fizzle out! You don’t know what it’s like to be defenseless.”

“I do,” Ceilia offered a knowing look. “I know what it’s like to not be able to rely on myself. And to fight anyway. And to be judged anyway. And to wish I didn’t care that they care so much.”

Kali faltered. “But-“

“I’m an Elf Mystic? Even Elven Patrons could be peaceful. Come on, let’s spar. You don’t need magic to win.”

“Fine,” She decided after a moment. Kali readied herself, but not before Ceilia struck. “No fair!”

Between swings, Ceilia shot back, “Dragons don’t play fair.” Kali dove around with wind-like agility. She was smaller but could try to catch her opponent off guard. But Ceilia was two steps ahead. She knocked Kali off balance, and she tripped over a root.

“Good job, fighting offensively.”

“Where’d you learn those moves? They were so… dragon-like.”

“Grew up near the border.”

“Right, I remember,” Kali nodded, then flashed a grin. “Again?”

“Again,” And Kali swung as Ceilia tried to help her up. This time she kept up for longer. With an adrenaline rush, Kali tried to even the playing field. But as she tired, Ceilia only seemed to grow more energetic.

And—

She inhaled sharply as Ceilia crumpled. What?

“Are you okay?” Kali cried and rushed down. Something wasn’t right.

“I’m fine.” She looked the farthest thing from fine.

Kali moved around to help her up. And gasped again. Her eyes were blood red. Kali backed up, and Ceilia’s gleaming eyes widened.

Ceilia breathed,” Wait!”

“What?” Kali snapped.

Celia stuttered. “Even— dragon… patrons… can be— peaceful…”

“…What?” Kali relaxed.

“I’m what you call an— Albino… Mystic. Now please, hush.”

That was that. A pact, a promise, whatever you’d like to call it. Kali nodded, and that was that.

Ceilia struggled to her feet. “You, Miss Kali, have some explaining to do as well.”

[If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much! This is an idea I’m still playing with, but the context is that Mystics, or magic users, have magic that originated from magical creatures. The dragon kingdom is currently at war with the Flori. Dragons can be identified by red eyes when hurt, frightened, or otherwise excited.

Typics are an (experimental) term for non magic users. Uncommon.

The mechanics of magic are important. Abilities reflect (but have changed over time) from the original “patron” creatures. Thus, some magic is inherently more peaceful than others. And vice versa. Albino mystics are a gentler subtype of Dragon Mystics, and the main character is passing as an Elf Mystic (in the Flori kingdom) for her own protection.

Finally (bear with me), I try to hint that Kali herself is part of another mystic subtype.

Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I had writing it!]

Agape, my chest laid open staring at abundance nape Waiting, waiting…waiting Yeloh walls soon to be sold Closing old doors without new ones opened Faith in a higher guide for I’m the beloved of universal forces The knowing of greater heights soon to be fulfilled Unlike Lin Kong, the ending brings bounty from an awakened life.

An armless legless porcelain torso flung itself at Teddi’s head. She ducked and the torso exploded against a tree trunk. Lee opened his umbrella against a sudden shower of doll heads. “There!” Teddi shouted pointing towards a fisherman’s hut. Teddi shifted into a dark ginger bear, tossed the lanky wizard on her back, and ran to the safety of the hut. Shooting blue tinged magic Lee swatted away the legion of violent dolls. Melted plastic smoke burned their eyes. They slammed into the abandoned shanty. Lee barred the shutters while Teddi moved a Hoosier to block the front door. Breathing hard Teddi shifted back to human form. Lee handed her a long apron. The hut was peppered by dozens of hard tiny hands. “Speaking baby dolls I noticed they’re showing Babyface at the revival house on the mainland. You like Barbara Stanwyck right?” Lee asked. “No I don’t like Stanwyck I love Stanwyck. Are you really doing this right now?” The sound of teeny tiny feet raced over the roof. “I’m a freak. I’ve spent most of my life devoted to ancient magical tomes. I’m more afraid of asking you out than getting my toes gnawed by homicidal doll babies,” Lee said. “It’s good to see you being stupid,” Teddi said. “Wait they want to eat us alive?” Lee kissed her tenderly. A curly blonde head fell through the roof and rolled towards them. Lee fried it with an impatient shrug. He pressed his head to hers. “Oh Theodora dolls are always hungry.”

Family smothers We recover Like no other Dear old mother. Tessa🦋

This morning when the town woke up they arose quickly with a surprise. The usual dull and gray sky had bright beams of sunlight and a blue clear horizon. The town saw this unusually nice day and decided to make the most of it. They all went outside and played in the lake. They forgot all their responsibilities and had a great day. Most of them weren’t home most the day and were basking in the warmth instead. The next day as they were so excited to wake up and hopefully have another nice day, they saw it was the usual rain and thunder. The gray skies filled up their soul with sadness. Usually on these typical rainy days they hang with their loved ones inside with a fire, get some hot chocolate, go to work, read a book, and cook dinner. The typical and usual things. But since they felt that amazing fresh sunlight and crisp air- they got so disappointed to be back into their usual routine- of dark and despair filled clouds and lightning oh so startling. As scary as their daily storms sound, it was normal for them. It was comforting because they’ve always been used to it. The sunny day they had was filled with adrenaline and happiness- but it was different and surprising. They always wanted a sunny day, they begged and prayed for it. Once it happened and it was over worth. They almost wished it never happened. The feeling of hope they felt with the sunshine just set them up for sadness and failure when they woke up to rain every other morning after that. As rare and special as that day was, it wasn’t comforting like to their normal weather and routine. The Town neither felt happy nor sad the rain was back. They felt at ease, but also emptiness because now they saw the sunny day, how were they supposed to just forget it, and let the memories fade away. The important lesson they learned that day was that even though they wish and hope for something, sometimes it’s better off if it never came at all. They got their hopes up and we’re let down. Some call this fear of change - I call it reasonable. If you never expect greatness you will never feel disappointed.

Alone. Finally. You can’t live in this world without friends, but alone time is what I need right now. The creators allowed the world to be fully explored, but doing it alone is a death sentence. But I need some time to think.

They’re among us.

Creators, some old myth sent down through the generations, are actually real? And they pose a threat? And anyone could be one? There is no way to tell who could be one, so I need to plan. I need to think.

Who could be a creator?

(Ngl I’ve been trying to think of ideas for this prompt all day and I can’t think of anything 💀 so here’s a quarter-thought mini story ig. Maybe I’m a creator, and you too reader 😳)

“What’s wrong, Clara?” Isaac asks as he sets down a cup of tea in front of Clara.

Clara sighs and says, “Aren’t you also worried Isaac? I know we can’t and shouldn’t stop him, but what if something happens?”

“Clara,” Isaac says with a sigh. “Is this about Felix again? I’m also worried, but you know nothing will stop him from doing what he had to do. As his friends we should just hope that he finds what he’s been looking for. All we can do is pray for his safety.” Isaac looks at Clara’s worried face. “Felix is capable of taking care of himself. He wouldn’t want us moping around because of him. And besides, we should fix up this place while he’s gone. He will be proud when he comes back.”

“If. If he comes back,” Clara says.

“You and I both know he was destined for more than this village can offer him,” Isaac says.

“I know,” Clara responds. “His journey and his destiny is one that is different from ours. Since we were young I could tell he wasn’t going to stay in the village. He’s probably going to do something that will be talked about for ages. Maybe even written down in books.”

“Maybe,” Isaac said. “I guess we’re just going to have to catch up then. We may be staying in this village, but it doesn’t prevent us from doing incredible things,” Isaac said with a smile.

Clara stood up suddenly, her mood changing completely. “You’re right, Isaac. Are you thinking what I am?”

Isaac also stood up with a smile, “I think so. I think we can restore this village back to the beauty it used to be.”

“And it all starts with getting rid of the corrupt person in charge,” Clara said.

“Be careful, there. You might be convinced of heresy,” Isaac said with a sarcastic tone.

“Oh how terrible. I will be cast away into the cold lands. Not like it makes much difference being this village where people can barely get through a winter because of the greed of one person,” Clara said with giggle.

Isaac chuckled before turning serious and saying, “You know this is not going to be easy, right? This corruption runs a lot deeper than just one person.” He knew Clara knew how serious he was. He just wasn’t sure if she knew how dangerous this was.

“I know,” Clara responded, determination in her eyes.

“Felix would be happy,” Isaac said.

“No. This is for us,” Clara said with a smile.

“For us,” Isaac mumbled. “I like the sound of that. Let’s do this!” he said enthusiastically. He was glad to see Clara like this. When Felix had left on his journey she had been down, but now she was back to her usual self. He presumed she had realized that they had different destinies and that staying in this village did not stop them from doing so.

“What are you waiting for?” Clara asked as she opened the door. “We have a lot of planning to do,” she added.

“I’m right behind you,” Isaac called as he walked over.

I didn’t believe it at first when my son told me the young shepherd boy had told him there was a big bad wolf living in the woods. Wolves lived in the woods sure, but one made of pure evil? I wasn’t convinced. So I was relieved when his father came and put the story straight.

There was no big bad wolf, he’d just made it up to scare his son. Which was fair, I did similar stuff to my son too, that’s what us fathers do, so I got it, but then … the wolf really did attack.

No one knew where the wolf had come from, no one had much time to speculate because he snuck into our houses come the break of night and decimated our village.

I was working late the night he came. I saw the whole thing unfold, a dark shadow making its way into the heart of our village.

I rushed home, but it was too late, I watched the wolf devour my husband and son with a viciousness I couldn’t comprehend.

I fought him valiantly trying to I don’t know get justice for them, and he backed down, laughed, shook his head and left as quick as he came.

I was the only man left alive in the village, and it was all because the wolf had decided to spare me.

I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know if the shepherd lied to reassure us knowing full well the wolf existed or what, but what I do know is this. The wolf is real, and now he is my god.

I woke up with that dream again. Vague, comforting, but…restricting at the same time. I get this tingling sensation whenever I see that face. It’s too hard to see the detail and structure, so I can’t tell who it is, but it gives an aura of…familiarity.

I stretch until I catch a cramp in my calf. Ugh. I always do that. My cold feet touches my hardwood floors as I go up to greet my best friend. He wants a treat, so I give him his toy for the time being while I fill up his food and water for the day. The dream hasn’t left my thought. It’s almost nagging, never leaving the back of my mind. I shake my head, as I refuse it to bring down my mood. It’s the last day of training, and I can’t mess up. My life depends on it now.