Fuel For the Fire

Can't... Will never.... Won't... As I repeat these words to my friend, she is seething. Were this a cartoon, steam would be flowing from her ears accompanied by a high pitched squeal. "Oh no," she says through gritted teeth, her entire body shaking. "We can't have that!" 

"What?" I say, spinning on my heel as she begins to pace. 

She in turn, spins on her own heel and faces me, coming closer, maintaining eye contact the entire time. "Candace! You... you mustn't let people tell you those things..." 

"It's not like I can stop them." I say, "I'm not God. I can't control anyone but me.." 

"True," she says, coming to sit beside me. 

"But that's exactly it, Candace..." I say nothing, blinking a few times. "You can control you!" 

"What do you mean exactly?" 

"Can't.. Never... Won't..." she says, on her feet and pacing again. "They're all just words." 

"Negative words though, right?" 

"Wrong!" Once again, Hilda spins on her heel, a wide smile on her lips. "For most, yes, they are negative. But they don't have to be. For most people, they're negative words because they allow them to be." 

"Ok..." I say, "Hilda, I can see that you're passionate... but... you're not really making much sense." 

Again, she settles in a sitting position beside me. "Look Candace, if experience has taught me anything, it's that you choose the impact words have on you. Have you ever heard that saying?" She pauses, trying to recall it in her memory. "You know the one..." Again, she trails off. "Sticks and stones may break my bones..." 

"but names will never hurt me!" I finish with her triumphantly, a little relieved to understand something at last. 

"Yes!" says Hilda, the smile returned. "The second part of that saying implies that you can choose to ignore words which may otherwise have negative associations." 

I nod, smiling. Finally the fog of foreignness is clearing.  

"So, those words," she says, pausing to ensure she has my full attention, which, of course, she does. Now that it seems to make a little sense, she has me hooked... "Can't... Never... Won't... You've got to use them." 

"I'm sorry," I say, "use them?" 

"Yes," says Hilda. "Use them as fuel for the fire." 

I blink at her silently. She's lost me again... 

"Because they're telling you things right? They're telling you that you can't.. won't.. that you'll never.." 

"Yeah," I nod, albeit slowly. 

"So you use the words as motivation, fuel, to do the opposite." 

"Oh," I say, lighting up again with the onset of a lighting bulb moment. 

"You use it as fuel for the fire," Hilda says with me, nodding.

Fuel for the fire.

Silence Is All You Know

Silence is all you know, when you're alone..

The young girl looked out the window at the world beyond. Her shoulders slumped, she let out a humph as she folded her arms across her chest. Oh, how she wished she could join them. How she longed to be among them. But, she knew, if she were to venture out, the busy bustle would quickly disperse, and within a few minutes, there'd be no one in sight. They were all scared of her. So, most of the time she slept. For sleep was an escape from the horrible feelings that came with isolation. Of longing, of sadness and envy. And, rest, they told her, was good. It didn't seem to matter if she got a lot.

She had been isolated for as long as she could remember. But alone, it felt as if time dragged on. That every minute lasted an hour and every hour a day. As she usually did in her few waking moments, the young girl watched the world from her window, For a while, the world carried on the same way it always did. Until suddenly, a figure began to approach her window.

The sight of the figure growing larger as it came closer made her jump. When the figure was as close to the window as she was on the other side, the young girl realised that on the other side of the window, was a boy, around her age. He tapped on the glass to gain her attention. "Hello," he said, waving cheerily. "I'm Tom! What's your name?"
"A..Aaliyah," said the young girl slowly, jumping again at the sound of her own voice, for she hadn't heard it in so long.
"That's a very pretty name," said Tom, whose gaze had fallen to his feet. He looked back up at her again. "Can you come out and play?"
Her own eyes downcast, Aaliyah shook her head. "I'm not allowed out," she said as tears threatened to spill a waterfall from her eyes.

"Can I come in then?" Tom asked eagerly, "you look lonely, and I haven't anyone else to play with."
"I don't know where the door is," said Aaliyah, returning to staring at the ground after peeking briefly at the boy.

She looked up again just in time to say an older man apprach the boy, setting his hands gently on Tom's shoulders. "What're you doing Tom?" he asked and Aaliyah held her breath, sure he was going to make Tom go away.
"I found a playmate," said Tom, glancing at her, "only, she can't come out..."
The man looked up at Aaliyah through the window, "Hello!" he said, just as brightly as Tom. "I'm Robert,"
"He's my brother," said Tom quickly, and Aaliyah nodded her understanding. "this is Aaliyah," he said, turning back to his brother.

Robert, it turned out, was very clever, and soon, Aaliyah was joined by him and Tom on her side of the window. "What are you doing here all by yourself then, huh?" Robert asked.
"I'm sick," said Aaliyah.
"No one comes to see you?"
"Not often," she said, "they're all scared of me."
"Scared?" he asked. "Why would people be scared of a pretty young girl like me?" Aaliyah felt her cheeks warm at his words and pressed her hands to them, savouring the foreign, but nice sensation.
"They think they could catch what I have," she said. She did not react, knowing what would come next. On instinct, the two brothers backed away from her, though to their credit, they only took a half a step.
"I... Is that possible?" Tom asked nervously.
"No," said Aaliyah, shaking her head for emphasis, "I'm pretty sure so. I'm dying." To her relief, the brothers came closer once more.
Robert continued closer, circling Aaliyah thoughtfully as he started to speak. "And, as far as you know, dying is not contagious. Right?" Robert spun on his heel, stopping when he was facing
Aaliyah.
"Right," she said definitely, echoed by Tom, who followed with a sigh of relief.

Tom closed the gap between himself and the others, and Robert went to stand by his brother. "Well," he said, "consider yourself alone no more," he said, rubbing his hands together, a gleeful smile on his face.

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The brothers returned a time later, and Aaliyah started to smile before her breath caught in her throat as she remembered a warning she'd been given, long ago. You only have so much time, Aaliyah. Be cautious...
"Robert, can you check on the other side of the window? Is there a number there?"

"There's a number here," he said, looking at her. "10."
"Aaliyah, what does that mean?" Asked Tom.
"10 days," Aaliyah said slowly,  remembering things as she spoke. "10 days is all I have beyond isolation."

In synchrony, Tom and  Robert's face's fell. "What?" Tom asked. "But..."
"Tom, you should go now. Go with Robert," said Aaliyah, touching a hand to his arm.
"But," he said again.
"There's nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do," said Aaliyah. "But, I still have 10 days."
Sadly, Tom nodded. "I wish I didn't have to leave you Aaliyah. I hate feeling like I'm leaving you to the silence."
"Silence is all you know when you're alone, Tom," Aaliyah said simply, a small smile at your face. "But you and your brother have shown me what it's like to not be constantly stuck in silence, and it's wonderful. The music is heavenly."
"Hold tight Aaliyah," said Robert, smiling his usual bright smile. "There will be much more music yet."

With that, Aaliyah watched the brothers go, smiling even as Tom looked longingly back at her. Then she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come. So she could escape and speed time to when music would fill her world once more.