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.

The Sadness Will Last Forever

He squatted low, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Eyes shut tight and hands pressed firmly to both ears, he continued to rock back and forth. He was silent for a while before he could no longer take it. He opened his mouth and started to scream.

He had curled himself into a ball who's only movement was to repeat the same motion over and over again. Rocking. Back and forth, back and forth. No matter how tightly he pressed his hands to his ears, it seemed he could still hear the voice. Though, the blockade of his hands did seem to muffle the noise to a mere whisper. But still, the voice called to him. Antony... Antony... Antony...

At first, it had been quite maddening. Then, he'd grown used to it. There were moments of solace, though they were few and far between. Otherwise, the voice would continue calling to him, the sound a haunting whisper. Sometimes, it would become too much and he would relent. That made it better for a while. Sometimes, the voice would even help him along in his plight. But in the end, it would return to haunting him, but worse than before. Eventually, it started to feel like torture.

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My Dear Brother, 

I worry about you, for I know your mind is often troubled, and though I hope you are well, I fear you may be ill again. I haven't heard from you in weeks, Antony. What is happening? Have you been dedicating yourself to your work of late as I know you so often do? 

Antony, you must take care of yourself. I long for comfort in the knowledge you have company to 
watch over you, but in company's absence, I implore you, dear brother, please, take care of yourself, for I fear the price you shall have to pay should you fail. Know that I will come should you need me, 
though I hope it will not come to that.  

Please write, dear Brother, so I may, at least, take comfort in the knowledge that at the present time, you are well. Sincerely, 

Tobias

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Dear Tobias, 

You needn't fear, Brother. I am not at all I'll, though I do understand and appreciate your concern. At the present time, the other voice within is silent. Dormant. Strange though it is, I must admit. Demonic at times, completely angelic at others. Unpredictable, and strange. I only wish I was able to make sense of it. 

I apologise, dear brother, for I have deceived you some. While I am in good health at this time, I haven't been in recent times. I've been I'll, and once again fighting the inner battle with which I am so often consumed. I hope this will explain the lack of work, for which I also apologise. I endeavour to get straight back to it. 

I trust you are well, Dear Brother and am sure I will hear from you soon. Sincerely, 

Antony

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In his house, in a room he affectionately thought of as his sanctuary, Antony rocked back and forth. He had curled himself up so much, so his body, heavily bent, was as small as he could possibly make 

it. Again, he'd shut his eyes tight and sealed his ears off from the sounds of the world by placing his
hands firmly over his ears. But still, the voice persisted. Antony... Antony... Antony...

The voice was so loud and consuming in his mind that Antony failed to notice the knocking at the door, though it was quite loud. A click followed as the door was opened and then there were footsteps, slowly growing in volume as they came closer. 

The moment Tobias heard his brother's cries he began to run. He paused a moment in the doorway when he first laid eyes on his brother before running the last few steps to his aid. Tobias dropped to his knees. Antony continued rocking for a few minutes before falling all the way on to the ground. His body gave a final involuntary jerk before he lay still at last. 

With a groan of effort, Tobias pulled the top half of his brother's body, shoulders up, into his lap. "Antony," he said in a soft whisper. "Antony, come in now, dear brother. Come on, Antony. Come back to me now. Come on." A moment passed. An agonising moment of complete silence. 

Finally, Antony's eyes fluttered open, immediately locking on to that of his brother. "Tobias," he said slowly, his voice faint. 

Blindly, Tobias reached for his brother's hand and squeezed it firmly in his own. "I'm here, Brother, I'm right here." 

A hint of a smile played on Antony's lips. "The sadness," he said, his voice barely audible from lack of volume. "The sadness will last forever." As he finished speaking, Antony's drooping lids settled back into place over his eyes. A sad smile forming on his own lips, Tobias gently rested his brother's motionless body back on the ground.

Tobias gave a start at the sudden appearance of a dark, peculiar, somewhat deranged looking creature balanced on all fours atop Antony. It raised it's head, opened it's mouth and lye out a long, threatening hiss, staring straight ahead. Then, the creature's eyes scanned the otherwise empty room, coming to rest on him, eliciting a gasp. Tobias's eyes widened a little as the creature hissed at him once again before disappearing a moment later.

Tobias shuddered and took a moment to compose himself before leaning in close to his brother and whispering directly into his ear. "It's ok, Antony. It's over. The battle is over. You can rest now, dear brother." Tobias ran a hand down his brother's chest. "Rest in peace." 

Surrounded

We have been running for hours. As fast and far as our bodies will allow. Up until now. Up until we can run no more. So we collapse on the hard, unforgiving ground. It is hard to make out our surroundings, for everything blends in to the dark night. But still, I know that we are surrounded. Trapped. Our captors breath is close. Hot, smelly and loud on our faces.

The sight that greets my eyes as I open them confirms it. At first, I am squinting through the dark in an attempt to see it. Then, my eyes grow wider and wider as they adjust to the darkness and my fears are confirmed. The pack of wolves loom over us, hungrily snarling and baring their teeth. They would blend in with the night completely, were it not for their luminescent beady little yellow eyes. All on us. All on me.

As we fell to the ground, I instinctively threw myself atop her. And so she lay beneath me. I turn my head to look at her. She does not return my gaze. Her eyes are closed and I feel my own breath catch in my throat at the absence of hers. I shift my gaze to the wolves surrounding us.

As I make to stand, they back away, though they remain in their circular formation, surrounding them. I look at each of them in turn before I look at her once again I look up and meet the eyes of a wolf. This one is not like the others. He is not looking at me like I am his next meal. He holds my gaze for a moment. Barely a moment before looking away, as if he were scared himself.

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I can barely look him in the eye. But I can tell he is stronger. The snowy steed continues to look my way, as if our gaze is glued together. But I cannot bring myself to return the gaze any longer. It is too close to home. I remember, once, long ago, when I was standing where he is now. But things will end differently for him, I know.

He peers again at the young, beautiful girl who lays motionless on the ground behind him. I follow his gaze and feel the tears well up behind my eyes. I know I cannot cry. Instead, I rise my head to the stars and let out a long, sorrowful howl.

Finally, I meet the horse's gaze once more. His eyes are wide with fear. I step forward, and he, in turn steps backward. My pack around me do not move. Some look at me, their heads turned to the side on an angle. But they do not move. The horse now stands over the goal. His gaze has turned fierce. Daring me to come closer. I wish I could speak. I wish I could tell him....

I back away, rejoining the others around me. I turn and start to trot the other way. I glance behind me. The others still haven't moved. I pause and stamp a foot on the ground. Finally they understand and begin to follow behind me. I allow most of them to pass me and chance one look at the horse, whose eyes are still on me. His eyes are still saucers. I nod once, and he copies the movement. I turn once more and follow my pack back into the night, letting out a breath. Not this time, I think, for now, he is safe. And I am glad.

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Next in the 'Silent Haunt' series.Read the story that started it all  here. 

Our Perfect Little Bubble

They’ve found the pin to pop our perfect little bubble. I’ve been dropped into something I don’t know. Some awful nightmare and you’re not here. I can't find you anywhere here. I’m surrounded by a sea of red. The waters are rising. I can’t stop crying. Or bleeding. I am broken; smashed and shattered into a million tiny pieces, strewn everywhere for miles around. Nothing makes sense here. Everything is foreign. But I am stuck. I am trapped. I can’t escape. No matter how much I pound, nothing breaks. Nothing lets me go. There is nothing to set me free. So I lay, writhing and rocking on the ground. I want to wake up. Please, let me wake up.

I want to wake up. I want for this strange new world to have all been just a horrible nightmare. I want to open my eyes and find you here, next to me. I want to see your irresistible, teddy bear face and button eyes. I want to feel your soft, warm skin. I want to turn around and find you there. I want to pull you close and never let you go. I want to go back to living in that bubble forever. Just you and me.

I need for there to still be a you and me. I need the world to still make sense. I need you here. With me. I need you. I need you to remind me that I am capable of being loved. I need you to remind me that I am not worthless. I need you here so that I am not alone when everyone else disappears.  I need you here to share everything with. I need you here to keep all my secrets. I need you to be here, to be strong when I am weak. I need you here to celebrate the good. I need you here to spread love. I need you here to spread joy.

 There doesn’t seem to be any joy in this new world. The storm clouds overhead are dark and angry, raging on forever. When it rains, it pours. And it feels endless. It is ice cold. I can’t find the warmth here, and though I shiver, I can’t help but feel thankful for my surroundings. This world is horrible, and it’s the last place on Earth I want to be. But it seems to be sympathetic to what’s going on. It seems to be reflecting my inside. The clouds are raging my fiery anger. The rain projecting my misery. The waters and the landscape echoing exactly how I feel.