New

The man, whose hair colour matched some of the pastel pinks of the sunrise unfolding above, nudged the two companions either side of him. Together, they rose from the water just enough to see. Their destination had come into view on the horizon. 

The three stopped, closing their eyes to inhale deeply. Not that you had to close your eyes to take a breath in, though it certainly enriched the experience. Closing your eyes, the three had found, was one way to awaken your other senses and allow you to more fully take in the environment around you. 

Only once there had been a few of these deep breaths did they all open their eyes again to begin taking in the view before them. Like a social media filter, there was a natural glow over everything that only the early morning sun could give.

"Woah," said sunrise pink hair. 

"That trip was definitely worth it," agreed the young woman to his left, with locks of light lemon.  

“Yeah.” Their other female companion, hair brighter blue than that of the ocean and sky combined,  said.  

A breeze, not too warm, yet not too cool, blew over their faces. Up to just below their eyes were, for now, still beneath the water. The three looked at each other and nodded before slowly starting to walk forwards, their bodies rising up and out of the blue water as they did so, disturbing the stillness momentarily. The sun beamed down on them, warm encouragement as they emerged into their new world.  

As she stepped onto the sandy beach, brighter blue exhaled heavily. Though her wetness was still weighing her down, it felt like a greater weight had been lifted as she set foot on dry land. 

Behind her, sunrise pink beamed like the sun. "We're free again," he said.  

Locks of light lemon stood stock still on the water's edge. She too, breathed a sigh of relief. "Everything here is new.  We can start over." 

Brighter blue nodded. "It's a new dawn." Her hands began to shake from the adrenaline starting to course through her veins.  

"A new beginning," echoed sunrise pink, bouncing on his toes. 

"A new day."  

The Light

 Even when all else seems dark and gloomy, they still strain to reach the light, regardless or how elusive it may seem.

I am cast in ice-cold shadow, but they find the sun with ease.

“Or is it the sun that finds you?” I look up toward it, beaming down from the sky onto my friend, rooted in place beside me. The sun is a spotlight and my buddy the star of the show.

 

I shake my head. “How is it that you and the sun always find each other?”

My buddy sighs. It’s so quiet, you could almost miss it, like a faint whistle on the wind. Except I know that’s just how they are. So quiet, you’ll surely miss anything they say if you’re not tuned in and paying attention.

“Maybe we’re just meant to be, the sun and I,” they say.

Their words are the verbal equivalent of a shrug, and I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s ok,” I tell them. “I don’t have answers either. I’m just as clueless as you.”

“I’m not sure I’d say I’m completely clueless.”

“I’m sorry. That came out kinda wrong. I didn’t mean…”

They sway toward me. “It’s alright.” Straightening again, they trail off, leaning back to bask in the sun’s rays.

I reach out, hoping to touch some of the light myself, but it eludes me. Almost as if the sun is actively trying to avoid me.

 

“Maybe I attract it.” My buddy’s voice reaches my ear, warm against the cool breeze blowing over us both.

“Maybe?” I spit, struck with disbelief at the question in their tone. “You definitely attract it.” I glance at the sunlight shining down on them out of the corner of my eye. “Not like me.” I stiffen at the fresh chill that courses down my spine from being cast in shadow, the truth like an icy splash of water to the face.

 

“Hey,” says my friend. This time, when they sway toward me, their petals brush lightly against the skin of my exposed arm. The touch is so light, I almost don’t notice. Until the chill I’ve grown used to disappears. In its place is a warmth so intense, I fear I might catch fire. I yank my arm away, holding it close to my chest.

 

I breathe deeply, relishing the cool air on my skin, soothing the burning sensation. My buddy bends down closer again, their petals brushing my shoulder. I brace, waiting for more intense heat.

“It’s okay,” my buddy whispers. “The warmth of the sun takes some getting used to, and you haven’t felt it nearly as much as you should have.”

 

I look at my buddy. Droplets fall down their dark centre. Tears.

“I want you to feel the light too,” they tell me. “I want to share its warmth. You, of all people deserve that.”

Now, it’s my turn to be teary. I fix my gaze on the ground as I swallow a lump in my throat. I suck in air, trying to find the right words to articulate what I’m feeling. Emotion courses through me, threatening to spill out and create a river around us. A river I’m sure my buddy’s warmth and the sun’s light would almost immediately evaporate.

 

“Words.” I finally manage to choke out. “I... I don’t quite know what to say. How to express everything that you, and this, means to me.”

 

My sunflower friend sways near me with the breeze, brushing against me every so often. This time, I stay still when the sun’s rays envelope me.

“That’s it,” they encourage me. “Told you. You just need to give it a chance.”

I lean in closer, bumping lightly against their petals before straightening.

"It doesn't matter if you're not exactly like me," they say. "You're you." 

I take a breath, feeling like I’ve finally found the words that escaped me earlier.

 

“Thank you,” I say. “For helping me find the light. For sharing your warmth with me. For everything. Thank you. Just…” Another breath. “… thank you.”

The Lost Others

 “You might wonder why I do this private vlogging thing,” Devi began. “I’ve often wondered myself. It started out with this need for you to know things. Especially with that…” Devi paused, searching for the right word. “… situation, shall we call it- that kept us all apart for a bit.” She cleared her throat. “But even then, there are still things I need others out there to know. The problem with that is those others have kinda been lost, in a way. They may never know these things I so desperately want them to know. They may know them, somehow. If, by some miracle, I did manage to convey it, before the others became lost.” 

Devi stopped in her tracks as tears started to trickle slowly down her face. She knew then this vlog would be a very private vlog. Very private, because no one would see it but her. In which case, why only pause the recording? Why not just stop? Because she needed to get it out, somewhere. And maybe one day, she’d change her mind about not sharing it. Maybe one day, she’d put it out there, a desperate plea for the return of missing persons. Maybe, if she did put it out there, the lost others would find it. Maybe, if they did find it, they wouldn’t be lost or missing from her life anymore. Because they’d have found her again. 

Devi gulped down the lump that had formed in her throat before reaching out to restart the recording. “What I want the lost others to know… what I need them to know is how much of an impact they had on me. I wish there’d been more time for me to tell them. But I took too long to work up the courage. And then, it was too late. I was this close.” Devi held up her thumb and forefinger, mere millimetres apart, for the camera to see. “But they disappeared before I had the chance. They disappeared without a trace.” Devi released a heavy sigh. “I don’t have many regrets in my life. But this is definitely one of them.” She blinked, then looked purposefully straight down the barrel of the camera. “So Odie, Christie, A… if any of you are seeing this, know that you left a mark behind you. I’d love to see you again. To be allowed one more chance to say what’s been on the tip of my tongue, what I’ve wanted to, for so long now… I promise I wouldn’t let it slip away again.” 

Devi knew the answer perfectly well, but she asked the universe anyway. “Why do we wait to tell the people who are important to us that they’re important, and why? Why do we wait and say it, often when they’re not around to hear it and feel it?” Devi was reminded of a driving force for starting these private vlogs- not just others who were lost because they’d disappeared, but others who were lost because they were gone. Not out there somewhere, but not here at all anymore. Those lost others, who were lost forever, had taught her to share with her loved ones while there were there. The regret came in with those who’d been lost through disappearing before she’d had that realisation. “I’ve had enough of the fear of it. And it may be uncomfortable because it’s not what people do. But it’s what we should all do. So I’m going to do it. Because if there are more lost others, I want them to become lost knowing what I need them to know. Knowing their impact and the mark they’ve left behind.” 

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This story continues Devi’s Diaries, which started here. Full collection (so far) on Wattpad here.

Maria’s Notes

I pat the pocket of my denim shorts and smile at the ever so subtle bulge of a few pieces of folded paper hidden inside. One for each of the people that surrounds me. I write these kinds of notes every year, for everyone. Handing them out never fails to add to the end of year cheer. Despite the fact I do it every year, everyone seems surprised, albeit pleasantly so. Seeing the happiness it brings them makes me happy too. Happiness, I believe, is infectious. I like being the one to spread it. 

But my own happiness doesn’t last so long. Instead, it fades quickly as I finish handing out the last note to the last person and slip into the background as everyone else goes on, as if there hadn’t been a note at all. I pat my pocket. As I expected, this time, it’s empty. There never seems to be a note for me. The thought feels me with sadness, and a sense that I am small. Tiny and insignificant. Like a mouse. I feel a pain in my chest and place a hand over my heart, almost like I can hold it. My heart hurts. The ache reaches my eyes as tears form behind them. 

“Maria!” The puffed shout of my name snaps me from my wallowing. I snap my head up to see a young woman panting for breath just a few steps away. “Maria,” she says again. “I’ve been trying to find you!” 

I blink as I rise to my feet. “You have?” 

“Yeah. I… I wanted to catch you before we all went home. I wanted to give you this.” In her fingers is a folded piece of paper, not too dissimilar to the ones I’ve been handing out all afternoon, which she holds out to me. 

Instead of taking it, I simply stare at it. Then, I look up at the tall, blondes brown haired woman in front of me. My mouth falls open, but no words come out. “You wrote me a note?” I ask. 

Her cheeks darken to a bright shade of red. “Yeah…” her eyes fall to her feet. 

“Thank you,” I whisper, finally reaching for the note. She allows it to slide into my grip. 

She is smiling when she meets my eyes again. Her cheeks are still red. “Well, anyway… I do have to go now, but I really wanted you to have that.” She nods at the note, now tucked into my pocket and turns on her heel. 

I smile back at her, warmth coursing through me as she recedes, slowly disappearing from view. I wait until she is out of sight to retreat to the shady tree I’d been wallowing beneath earlier, sit down and take out the note.

Dearest Maria, the note to me begins.  Just as I begin all of my notes. 

Thank you for your unwavering kindness, and for spreading your sunshine wherever you go. It brightens my day, and I’m sorry it’s not recognised more often. It should be. But I want you to know, Maria, that I see you, and I really, really appreciate you and everything you do. 

Effie

My mouth is agape again. I read the note a few times over, to try and make Effie’s words sink in. But I’m too stuck in disbelief. Someone sees me. Better than that, someone appreciates me. That almost never happens! Except today, it did. The last line of the note lingers in my mind, as if trying to imprint itself there. 

I want you to know, that I see you, and I really, really appreciate you, and everything you do.

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This story continues the Bleeding Hearts collection, which started here. You can also find all the stories from the collection (so far- will update there as/if more is written) together in one place on Wattpad here. 

High

 "Woah," breathed the blue clad blonde. "Where is this? Where are we" 

"We've gone as high as the sky," her companion, dressed in shades of purple and a country style hat, said, matter of fact. 

"But how?" Asked their friend, who, but for his bright, pastel hair, could've passed for some kind of investigator or detective. Still could've, possibly. Just a fun one who may've had a hard time being taken seriously. "You can't float on air!" 

"Except," said shades of purple, "it would seem that we can." She reached out, as if touching the air with her fingertips would prove her point.

"Woah! Cool." Blue clad blonde followed her friend's lead, fascinated. 

"I've always waned to know what clouds felt like to touch," said the imitation investigator/ detective. "And I'll bet we could push them aside to reach the sky." 

"Yeah!" Blue clad blonde said excitedly. "And you can see the clouds now too!" Her demeanour fell, like a pin dropping to the ground in an otherwise silent room, as the logic of their previous fact' started to falter. "But wait." She frowned  "If we've uncovered the clouds, what's this?" 

Shades of purple narrowed her eyes, studying the counterfeit clouds, now realising they did, in fact, look different from the real clouds further up above them. These 'clouds', unlike the real ones were a pale purpley-pink. The colour was so faint, it could easily be mistaken for the pure white of a regular cloud. 

"They are marshmallow fluff!"  imitation investigator/ detective declared decisively. He made to reach out, as if he could break some off like fairy floss to eat. Instead, his hand fell through it, like with a real cloud. 

Blue clad blonde watched on, wide eyed. "Aww!" She groaned, when his hand fell through instead of connecting with what she too had hoped was marshmallow fluff. "I thought it'd be grape!" 

"That would've been really cool," said imitation investigator/ detective, catching on to his friend's sadness. 

Their other friend had only just opened her mouth when the world around them started to spin, stopping all of them in their tracks. 

"Woah!" Blue clad blonde said again, hurriedly reaching to grab onto something to prevent herself flying away. 

Just as abruptly, the world fell still and silent again. The three friends opened their eyes just as the large ottoman on which they'd all fallen came to a stop. There was a moment of quiet and calm before they all groaned. 

"Uh!" Said shades of purple, pressing a hand to her suddenly pounding head. 

"Can someone stop this ride?" Blue clad blonde cried. "I think I'm going to be sick!" 

"Ugh!" Imitation investigator/ detective agreed. "What did we do last night?" 

"Partied too hard?" Blue clad blonde offered weakly.

"Ugh!" Imitation investigator / detective said again, now also with a hand to his head.

"I believe," said shades of purple in a whisper, standing in front of them, "that we got high." 

"Then you stole my hat!" Blue clad blonde cried, making a grab for the country style hat she'd just spotted on her friend's head. 

"Here." Shades of purple took the hat from her head and sent it flying in the blonde's direction. "You take it." 

The hat landed on the floor, metres from where blue clad blonde stood. She stumbled after it, and straightened as she set it down on her head, smiling with satisfaction. "There. Now I'm the cowgirl I was meant to be!" 

"You're investigator/ detective costume held up alright,"  said shades of purple, giving her pastel haired friend the once over. 

"What were you 'sposed to be again?" he asked, tiredness starting to hit him. 

Shades of purple looked down at herself with a critical eye. "I dunno," she admitted, meeting his gaze again. "Maybe one of the barbies?" 

"But which one?" asked blue clad, cowgirl blonde. 

"The purple one?" 

Cowgirl blonde frowned. "But your hair doesn't match!" 

"So?" asked Purple Barbie. 

Cowgirl blonde shrugged, out of comebacks or arguments. 

Without warning, purple barbie burst into laughter. "We certainly went high as the sky last night." 

"Yep," Imitation investigator? detective said with a wince as he forced himself to a sitting position. "And now we're paying the price for it." 

"But it was fun, right?" Blonde cowgirl asked, a hopeful light in her sky blue eyes. 

"Yeah," her two friends agreed, glancing at each other before looking back at her. 

"And worth it?" 

"I dunno." 

"That's up for debate I think," they countered. 

"But it was fun."  

To Be Believed

 She had to survey her surroundings a few times before her brain would begin to register the input from her eyes. There were people around her, a lot of them, who knew her. They were all standing by her, ready to stand up if she needed it. Ready to defend if it was necessary. Ready to risk themselves, or so her scarred mind believed. Because back then, anyone who did try to help her paid a price, as did she. But, that was then, and this was now. She knew that. Or, the small part of her still in touch with logic did. 

Just, ever since then, her connection with that part of herself still in touch with logic had weakened. And sometimes, it was blurry. Sometimes, now felt distant and far away, and then felt way too close for comfort. But right now, she was in it enough to see all of the people around her, even if her scarred mind was reluctant to believe it. She was in it enough to see all of the people, willing to stand by and stand up. Not just willing, but actually doing it. 

She couldn’t help the tiny hint of a smile on her lips, owing to the small part of herself still in touch with logic, at the now army’s worth of strangers standing behind and alongside her. Because that small part of herself knew that even though then still affected her now, it was back then, not now. Even if, because of then, she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that this, now, was her reality. Now is what she’d dreamt of. Now is what she’d never thought would happen. To have people around her. To know she wasn’t alone. And to be believed. That was the most impactful. That all of these people stood by her now, because they believed her story, and they believed that what she had subjected to was wrong. To be believed was the first, most important step of all. And to think it had all started with one single stranger. 

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This story is part of the Stranger series, which started here. You can find the full collection, together in one place, on Wattpad here.

This story was partially inspired by two incredibly powerful TV spots. A scene on Season 4, episode 7 of Sex Education around the importance of accessibility (more here) and season 14, episode 9 of Grey’s Anatomy, which shows the aftermath of trauma and the impact of others’ support.  

For those who have experienced trauma, know that you are not alone. And for those who know someone who has experienced trauma, remember that simply being believed can be indescribably powerful. 

Waiting In The Sun

They are all here in the sun, waiting for me. Just like I’ve always been told they would be. It’s far better than I could have imagined. Everyone important is here. Everyone who’s ever been important. Everyone. All together. Here in the sun. 

The park is weirdly empty aside from us, but I’m not going to complain. The grass is green, the sky is blue and clear, and the sun is shining bright above us. Oh, and there’s a nice breeze too, so no one gets too warm. 

I can’t help smiling, I’m so happy. When my loved ones notice me, they smile back at me. The ones closest open their arms. Feeling like a giddy child lost in the sheer joy of play, I run toward them. I run faster than I can remember ever running. As if the wind is pushing me along, and my path is downhill, which means my good friend gravity lends a helping hand. It’s like I’m running the last few metres of a race. It’s a wonder I don’t bowl anyone over. 

I emerge from the warm huddle-hug (because everyone had to get in on the action) and look around at all my loved ones. Really everyone is here- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, siblings, parents, friends. All of the people who make me feel safest in the whole entire world. All here. 

I feel tears touch the tip of my eyelashes when I open my eyes, finding I’m not in the park with everyone anymore. Maybe I never was. But I like to think I was there, in a way. I smile as more tears fall, knowing not everyone at the park is here with me in this waking reality. But I know now they’re all there, in the sun at the park. They’ll be there waiting for me. 

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For all those who have lost a loved one. They’ll be waiting in the sun for you. 

The Flamingo With Muscles

 Like all flamingos, like all birds, Fred had muscles. Only, he didn’t know it. Instead, he doubted it. How could he not, being the weakest of the flock? Strong birds had muscle. Weak birds? Not so much… 

Fred looked around at the other flamingos, stretching and flapping their wings. But it was when they shot up into the air their muscles were really on display, as they twirled and dipped and did tricks. Fred wanted to wrap his wings around himself so h’d be hidden from view. They were all warming up for the first stage in a competition that would eventually lead to representing the flamingos at a much bigger competition with all the birds. Everyone was expected to try out to represent their kind, but Fred didn’t see the point. He had no chance next to the other flamingos. The other flamingos didn’t have wobbly legs like heated, the other flamingos didn’t shake when someone simply looked at them. No, the other flamingos, unlike Fred, knew how to stand tall and proud. 

Not all flamingos were good at sport, Fred could admit that. But all flamingos, everyone, was good at something. So that meant Fred should have been good at something, right? If there was something that Fred was good at, he didn’t know what it was. 

If Fred had been given a choice, he wouldn’t have bothered wasting his time trying out alongside the other flamingos to represent their flock at the next round. But, he didn’t have that choice, and so, he gave it his best shot. He lined up with the other flamingos and spread his wings wide. Fred paraded along with the rest of them, as if his wings were part of an outfit he’d been asked to model at a runway show. Then, he took his turn to shoot up into the air and show off what he could do in the sky. Not much, was the answer. Fred basically flew around in different ways. He wished he’d been allowed a partner to do this with. Maybe then, they could have synchronised and together made beautiful shapes among the clouds. But, just like almost always, Fred was on his own.

“You do have muscle, Fred,” his mother told him when the tryouts had finished. “ it’s just not the kind of muscle that everyone would expect. It’s similar to the muscle birds have, because it’s not muscle that everyone sees.” 

“Oh yeah?” Fred asked, curious now. “ what kind of muscle is that?” 

Fred’s mother smiled. “It’s the kind of muscle let you do all of what you just did, I’m not talking about physical muscle that allows us to fly or spread our wings and dance the way that we do. The kind of muscle I’m talking about, the kind of muscle you have,  is the kind that helped you do all of that, even when there weren’t that many backing you. Even when you didn’t feel like you had a chance.” She patted his shoulder. “ The kind of muscle you have, Fred, is bravery and courage. It’s not the kind of muscle that everyone has, but it’s important. Because, with your kind of muscle, you can feel the fear and do it anyway.” 

Sympathy for the Devil

 I’m known around town as ‘The Devil’. Not because I’m the daughter of Satan (although I easily could be), but because most of the time, it’s my evil side that shows through and takes the lead. But, what if I told you it’s for good reason? Or, at least, it started out that way…. 

Bad is bad, I hear you scream at me, there is no excuse. I know. But, I had a reason. I’m not trying to excuse what I’ve done. Just provide an explanation of sorts, I suppose. So will you hear me out? Will you take a moment to have a little sympathy for the devil? I won’t beg- that would ruin my rep. But I’ll go on. Stay, if you give even half an F. 

It all started with my little sister. She was my favourite person in the entire universe. My best friend, my playmate, my partner in (innocent) crime- not real crime, mind you. Darkness hadn’t touched me yet, after all. That came later. But, you get what I mean. My little sister  was my everything,  and I would have done anything for her. That’s how I got into this mess in the first place, if you can call it a mess. I don’t know that it is though, not to me. It’s just a different way.  Maybe not the way others agree with, but it’s the way that works for me. As they say, nice guys finish last, right? So, that’s how I found myself making something of a deal with the devil. Or maybe the devil’s delegate? I’m not sure quite how you describe them. But I was little at the time, so cut me a little slack, alright?

When my little sister was only 4 , and I was 10, she was killed. We were playing on the edge of the road, at the end of our driveway when a car swerved out of control and hit my little sister, knocking her dead. That was when I met the reaper. I begged, because I beg in those days, and I was little. The reaper said it didn’t matter, she was gone. But, he could offer me a deal. He could accompany my sister as she passed from this life,  and make sure she got safely to heaven, where she belonged. The reaper told me that while that’s where my sister was supposed to go, there is always a chance for a soul to become lost, or snatched away to the wrong place. That was the last thing I wanted for my little sister. But, with the reaper, well I had to do was shake his hand. Looking back at it now, with the gift of hindsight, it seems obvious that it was too good to be true. That there was something the reaper wasn’t telling me. And I’ve been paying the price ever since. I can only hope my little sister got to where she was supposed to be, in heaven, because I never heard from the reaper ever again after that day.

But since that day, I’ve had devilish whispers in my mind.  They were small at first, quiet, so I had to really concentrate to hear them. But, they were enticing and alluring.  Not to mention darkness had entered my little world when my sister was lost to us, so I was more susceptible to their suggestions. And I seemed to be rewarded. The more I listened to the voices, the stronger they became. They were like friends, they are friends. The only friends I have now, really. Listening to them has led me to find my own power. Because of them, I am strong, tough and in control. No one would even dare take advantage of me now. Not like the reaper did when I was young. The reaper. That’s who I’m gunning for, really.  But I know that I won’t see him again until it’s my time. And when it is, he will be the one who pays. Until then, I’m the devil about town, and I’m ok with that.  

Before the Sun

 It is so freezing, I’m almost certain I’ll be encased in ice within minutes, maybe mere seconds. Being up and at ‘Em before the sun will have that effect, I suppose. But, I also know it’ll be worth it when I get to where I’m going. Besides, what other excuse do I have to get out of the house? Exercise is one of the few legitimate reasons folks are allowed to venture beyond their four walls, and this is definitely exercise. 

When I get to the top of this big hill/ mountain/ cliff structure I’ve been climbing, I take a moment to lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees and panting for air. Then, I straighten up and set about spinning the guitar I’ve carried on my back around so I can play it. I do it slowly, because bringing my instrument with me was a risk. Less so doing at this time of the morning, before the sun. At this time, there’s not a soul around. Not physically close by, anyway. 

There are others out there, though. They’re the reason I’m here with my guitar, out before the sun. We made a promise that they’d be doing the same as me, just in a different place. I close my eyes, imagining mirrored scenes of my two best friends in the world. Almost like our very own music video. My breath hitches in my throat, imagining that possibility. Maybe one day, it’ll be a reality. But for now, we have this. This view, so perfect it’s like someone painted it into existence. This breeze, almost too cold, but starting to grow warmer. I start to run my fingers over the strings and close my eyes so I can lose myself completely in the sound. 

I keep playing for long enough to lose all track of time. It’s not until I sense the darkness start to dissipate that I open my eyes, the strumming automatic. Just enough to see the sun start to poke through just above the ocean beyond. I keep playing as it slowly rises to begin a new day. It’s warmth envelops me, along with the knowledge my friends are experiencing if not the same, then very similar. Even if our specific sunrises are different, the three of us are all under the same sky, standing beneath the same sun. This is why we get up before the sun. For this moment when we are together in different places, our souls connected, tuned into the same song. 

For You

 When it’s just your voice, no one will necessarily have to know it’s you. These words are the ones that ended up convincing her, and they’ve been on a recurrent loop in the back of her mind since she first decided to do this. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be. Being out in front of people, even the thought of it, has always sent her to shaking in her boots. But your voice is so beautiful. It’d almost be a crime not to share it with the world, he’d always told her. 

“I’m sorry you weren’t around to see it, Dad.” She hoped he could hear, just like somehow, it felt like she could hear him. “This is for you. There’s no way otherwise.” She blinked away the wetness on her eyelashes. “You’ve always been the one to make me brave though, huh?” She laughed at the realisation that hit her. “You we’re always the one to make me feel on top of the world. Like I could do anything.” 

Her brother had similar motives for wanting to join her.. “I’m doing this for you, Dad. And for her. Heaven knows I’d do anything for her. We both would, I ‘spouse. Except, you just had to go and leave it to me now, didn’t you?” The rhetorical question came out angry, but he wasn’t sure if he was really angry at all. He couldn’t be. Not at her, the near spitting image of the man who’d raised them. The man they both loved more than anyone else in the whole world. Maybe there was a sliver of annoyance, because he knew he had no choice but to join her. Even though he was pretty sure he wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing . But it was only a sliver, because it was her. For her, he’d give it a shot. 

He held her gaze, searching his eyes for a hint of understanding. “For you,” he said simply. “Both of you.”

Be Confident

 I can’t tear my eyes away from the screen. I am without a doubt, completely and utterly enamoured and mesmerised by the performer who stands there, centre stage. I have been since the moment they first appeared. I am in awe, not only of what they’ve done, but also what I’m seeing. Who they are. Technically a woman from what I can tell, but not the classic girly girl type. The person I see in front of me is not wearing a dress, skirt or high heels. Instead they are absolutely dominating in a power suit that perfectly matches that of their partner and a killer hairdo, shaved or tight on the sides with hair piled high on top. It’s kind of old fashioned but androgynously modern at the same time. They are strong and powerful, and I think they know it. 

“What are you watching?” Comes the voice of my best friend Francis, who has just entered the room and sat down on the opposite end of the couch to me. “Luce?” Francis asks. I realise the question is rhetorical when they keep talking without giving me the chance to get so much as a single word in. “ they’re awesome!” 

“Wait.” Finally I turn my eyes away from the screen to look at my friend. “You know them?” 

Francis waves a hand in the air, as if trying to lessen the gravity of this possible fact. “Well I’ve met them.” Francis returns his gaze to Luce’s image, frozen on screen. “Uncle Keys has worked with them before.” 

“Oh. Of course he has,” I say and laugh, trying to cover up my jealousy, but also knowing I’m most likely not doing a very good job. 

“Hey! Keys likes you! I’m sure he’d set something up if we asked.” Francis shrugs. “I can’t blame you. They are pretty damn cool.” 

“Right?” I ask, repressing the urge to bounce up and down in my seat with excitement as I enter fan girl mode. “They just… they’re so…” I pause to think, hoping the right description will somehow appear to me if I give it enough time. “I can’t even put words to it,” I say giving up finally. “They’re just so…” 

“… them?” Francis proffers. 

“Yes!” 

“They ooze confidence, huh?” Francis says, somehow pulling the words directly  from my mind. 

I nod eagerly, then sigh as my gaze drifts back to Luce’s image on the TV. “I wish I could be like them.” 

“What do you mean like them?” Francis shifts in his seat so that we are directly facing each other. His eyes search mine carefully. “It’s like Dr Seuss says, there is no one alive who is youer than you.” 

“Be you, be yourself,” I parrot the mantra Francis and his uncle have been trying to drill into me for years. “I know. I just mean how Luce is so confident in themselves. Not scared or afraid. Just ‘this is me. Fuck anyone who tries to force me to be anything else.’” Francis falls back into the pillows, a rare swear word as shockingly impactful as an unexpected bullet. “That’s what I want. That confidence.” 

“It’s not as easy as just clicking your fingers and saying; ‘be confident!’” Luce tells me with a laugh. “It doesn’t work like that. It takes practice, and time.” They smile. “It’s taken me years to get to where I am now. For years, I felt like biggest fraud. Like someone would uncover the truth that I wasn’t all that they thought I was. That I wasn’t all that. But the biggest lesson I’ve learnt is that, I am. I am all that. That’s where the confidence kicks in, I think. You’re still young, you’ll get there. I can see it in you already. You are.” 

I can’t help blushing. “Thanks. But, what about in the meantime? Until I get there?” The last word comes out as an extra question, something Luce picks up on. 

“It might be a case of fake it till you make it,” they tell me.”Why do you think I perform, Darling?” 

I can’t help the small giggle that escapes my lips. 

“But even then although a character might be the same on paper, they’re always a little different depending on the person bringing them to life.” 

“I don’t think I’d have enough courage to do what you do. I wish.” 

Luce reaches out to touch a hand to my arm. “It’s okay. Performing isn’t for everyone. I think it’s more important to master the art of being you and owning who you are. That in itself takes enough courage” They lean in closer, almost whispering. “ between you and me, I think it might of taken me longer to develop that confidence because I had to perform and I put on all of these masks. Although don’t get me wrong, masks are important. Because first you have to find who you are, which masks help with. Only then, once you’ve found you, can you truly be you. I think confidence stems from that knowledge.” 

Luce rises to their full height, a whole half foot taller than me. Or so it seems.

“Thanks Luce. It was so wonderful to meet you.” 

“Likewise, Linda.” 

“Lin,” I correct on impulse. 

“See?  You’re already starting to really be yourself.” Luce gives me a knowing smile and a wink. “Keys has my details, so don’t be a stranger and keep in touch okay? I can’t wait to see you dominating too, Lin.” 

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This story follows on from Be, which you can read here. 

Something Out There

 Lyndal sighed, exasperated. “Duff, I’m telling you. There’s nothing there!”

“You’re just saying that because it’s dark and cold out, and you couldn’t be bothered going to investigate,” Duff shot back. “I’m telling you, there is something out there.”

 

“Guys! Stop for a minute.” Duff's younger sister raised an open palm.  “I think Cal might be onto something.”

Lyndal and Duff shot her an unimpressed look, but they did fall silent. The three waited a few minutes until…

 

“There,” said Duff at the sound of a soft rustle outside. “There it is again.”

“I hear it too,” His sister agreed.

Lyndal crossed her arms over her chest, not wanting to admit that that time, she'd heard it to.

Duff turned back to her. “Now can we go look?”

“Alright. Fine.”

 

“Don't forget a torch!” Duff’s sister handed it to him as he went to step out of the tent.

He shot her a grateful grin. “Thanks Ellie.”

Ellie scrambled to stay close to her brother, Lyndal trailing a little behind them.

 

The three teenagers stopped when they reached what was surely the source of the rustling. In unison, their mouths dropped open. None of them could believe their eyes. Even when Duff shone his torchlight on it…

 

“Aww!” Lyndal cooed. “It’s so cute!”

The Duff siblings turned to stare at her, not sure whether what they'd seen or Lyndal's reaction was more shocking.

“I guess it is kind of cute.” Eli admitted, looking back down at it.

Callum was the only one still sceptical, a brow raised. “D’ya think?” He asked, looking between the two young women. “We don't even know what ‘it’ is. All we can say for sure is that it's something none of us have seen before.”

“But it's so cute!” The girls cooed again.

“We've got to take it with us,” Lyndal spoke up. “It needs someone to take care of it.”

Callum opened and  closed his mouth. He wanted to question whether that was such a good idea as Lyndal seemed to think, but he knew better. Lyndal was stubborn, and when she got an idea there was rarely any changing her mind. He shrugged. He had to admit that she did have a heart of gold. If anyone could take care of this creature, it’d be her.

The Difference I See

While everyone else seems to be criticising this new English romance film, I’m sitting over here, by myself,  in support of it. Yeah, it’s not exactly something I would’ve necessarily expected of myself either.  Headlines like ‘better off dead than disabled’ is not exactly the most enticing advertisement, especially when you’re someone who actually has disability… but here we are. Seeing disability in a film feels like a rarity. Who am I to pass up the opportunity to see it, even if it’s a controversial one? Beggars can’t be choosers after all. So in spite of the criticism, I give it a go anyway. And honestly, I’m glad that I did. Because I see it differently. Let me tell you way. 

There is definite validity to the concerns about how young and impressionable minds maybe shaped by the narrative and the possible reflection of societies perception of disability it indicates. But I see a little bit more than that. In the lead, disabled character, I see someone not too unlike myself. Someone who has struggled frustrations life with disability means, and with the fact that those frustrations are their life. I’m someone who was born like this, with disability. But that character acquired their disability-  it hasn’t always been there for them. I imagine their frustrations and their struggles would be so much worse knowing the difference. From that lens, I can totally understand where their story took them, because I’ve been there too. Okay maybe not the exact same situation but the feeling is definitely one that’s familiar. 

In my experience, suicidality and suicidal ideation come about when someone can’t see any other way out of the pain or struggle they’re experiencing. It comes when someone can’t see an end to their suffering. When it might feel like they have no control left and there’s nothing else they can do. It’s an immensely dark place to be, but in that place, ending your life feels like a way to end suffering, A way out of the struggle, A way of taking back control. Often it feels like the only way to achieve all of those things. Take it from someone who’s been stuck in that dark place. 

Disability in a world built for ability. The frustration of having to try to navigate that world. Of being made to feel like, or worse, outright told that you don’t belong or there’s not a place for you in that world.  That’s the real problem. Because there’s nothing someone with a disability can actually do to get rid of it. It’s part of them whether they like it or not just the same as your eye colour is a part of you. And with how you can feel or be made to feel in the world sometimes I promise you that no one would necessarily choose disability. But at the same time, especially when it’s always been part of you, you wouldn’t not choose it either. 

I think that’s the kind of thing the main character in that story was struggling with. The thing that led them to seek to end their life . The frustration of a life newly filled with these struggles of living in a world not made or designed for you, where the price they have to pay is the full and rich life they used to have. A life they loved but can never have in the same way again. 

Given time, they might have been able to see or discover beauty in their new life. But the real tragedy, to my mind, is that they were stuck in that dark place. When you’re stuck in that dark place, it’s too dark to see any kind of possibility. The only way out you see is a pretty definite way, but in that dark place, it seems the only way. 

‘Disability is not a tragedy’, is the argument of many who are of the perspective the film’s message is ‘better off dead then disabled’. But for many, especially those who acquire their disability, it is a tragedy. It is vital that that’s allowed. If it’s not, there be many more who find themselves stuck in that dark place and who have more pain than is necessary. Disability doesn’t have to be a tragedy, but sometimes, it can feel like one. Feeling like your world as you know it has ended, can feel like a tragedy. That’s the difference I see. This movie is the story of one person. One person who has been handed a life they never imagined, nor asked for, at the cost of a life they loved. I think anyone who was put into that position might feel similarly. 

People with disability are not better off dead, But to some, it can feel like they would be. That problem lies in the society that’s not built for difference. A society that could be more accepting and inclusive of difference. A society where difference is often judged and hated on by others. That’s the difference I see. 

All of that doesn’t mean that the dark will always be. When you’re in the dark, it does feel like that, I know, but take it from someone who’s been there, it won’t. There will be a way out. And if you are someone like me he’s felt like that’s the only way out of your different, remember, different isn’t necessarily all bad. Some things and people might make you feel like different is all bad but that’s on them. It’s not your fault world isn’t set up for different. Just hold on. Life will come. You’ll find your way.

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If this story has raised any issues for you, please reach out for support from somewhere like Lifeline (Australia), or the equivalent in your country, and please take good care of you. 

One Day, In The Time of Sakura

 I wish I could come to Japan. In my mind I'm already there, leaving my body behind at my computer. So maybe what I really want is for my physical being to catch up to my imagination.
I know, comes my friend’s reply. I wish we could really meet. Be in the same place. Maybe one day we will
Me too. I hope so. “More than anything.” I can't help the heavy sigh as my dreaming mind jolts back into my head. I hear my sister's frustrated groans, and the ache of wistful longing grows.
 
If I were there, with you, I keep typing to my friend, I'd be free. It wouldn't be like here. Here it feels like I'm in a cage sometimes. A message has been sent before I really have a chance to think about it, my mind having drifted off again to preferable fantasies.
I see the dots dance and flash rhythmically while my friend types on the other side of the screen. One day, Chō Hana, when it is the time of the Sakura. It is so beautiful then.
Their words send me off down another dreamy vision. I imagine the two of us, walking down a path lined with beautiful pale pink cherry blossoms, all in bloom. The sun is shining and the air is warm. When is Sakura?
 Around March, April. Comes their reply. April is the best time though.
 
I feel pleasant warmth start to bloom within me, rising upwards. It seems to take with it the usual tightness that rests on my chest. My brain, meanwhile, has raced on ahead. April. There's potential for that to be in the next set of school holidays. I could actually go! This dream that we've been dreaming about could finally be reality!   
 
The sound of my sister’s cries sends a rock thumping back into place over my heart. I wish, is all I can think to say to my friend. I know that no matter how much I want to, I can't go. I can't leave her. Not when she needs me. 
One day, Chō Hana. One day. I have faith.
I can't wait, I say, allowing myself to indulge in imagination again. It's going to be wonderful. I won't be a problem there, with you. I'll be free.
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Author's note: There are a few Japanese words in this story. Roughly translated, they are: 
 Sakura- Cherry Blossom 
Chō- Butterfly 
Hana- Flower

My Little Fish Friend

 Just like always when I walk into my bedroom, my little fish friend is there waiting for me, swimming around in his tank. Just like always, it makes me smile to see him. “I’m glad I’ve got you.”
He swims closer to where I settle, on a plush chair near his tank. “You’re a good friend. You’re always here for me.” I shift my gaze to look from one side of his tank to the other. “Not that you have much of a choice.” I can’t help chuckling. Once the laughter dissipates, I shrug. “But you are still here. That’s more than I can say for many.” My breath is hot as it falls from my mouth. I blink at the prickle in my eyes. I know there are tears there, but I also know that that's where they'll stay. I can't ever seem to make them fall.
 
I refocus my gaze on my little fish friend, who has been watching me this whole time. He blinks back at me.
“I suppose that you can't really cry either, can you?”
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, though only bubbles escape.
I watch as they float upwards, toward the surface.
“I wish I could speak fish, so I could understand what you're trying to tell me right now.” My breath catches in my throat as I go to inhale.
 
“But it's worse for you, huh?” I say after a while, leaning closer to where he bobs in place. “You can't cry, but you don't have a voice either.” I touch my fingers slightly to my throat, feeling the lump that's starting to form there, about the same place my breath caught. It's painfully rock hard. “Sometimes, I lose my voice too.”
My little fish friend’s big eyes are steady on me as I talk.
“Usually in the worst times when I need my voice the most is when it escapes me, and I just clam up. It’s like my mind is a tank that I'm trapped in…” I stop, allowing my eyes to wonder once again over his tank. “Sorry. That was a bad analogy.” I let out a long, hot breath. “But that's the thing. You get me. In a way that no one else seems to, you understand.” My smile returns and grows a little bigger as I look at him, still next to me. Or as close as he can get. “I’m glad I've got you, my little fish friend.”   

Love & Loss

 “So, y’all know that I do these videos, but did I ever tell you why?” Devi paused as if to allow room for a response. Except really, this being video and all, the question was kind of rhetorical. But, she figured, maybe it would still give whoever was watching a chance to answer for themselves. “I mean, it did start with COVID when I couldn't actually see any of you in person but there was still things I wanted to say and wanted you to know. The thing is though, that the kinds of things on my mind are usually pretty personal and vulnerable so saying them to a video, plus being able to have as many takes as I need…” Devi chuckled to herself at memories of such occasions, recording and re-recording over and over again until she was happy.  

 

“… But it's not just that. I've had a fair bit of loss the last few years. Like many. Something I’ve learned is that loss can be like an uninvited ice cold splash of water to the face- it's a shock, and it also kinda wakes you up a bit. Some of my losses made me wonder, if someone’s send off from this life is the people they loved and had connections with saying all the things they loved about them, why don't we say that in life, when the person can actually hear it and feel it?” Devi stopped and tried her best to swallow around a rock hard lump in her throat. “Why do we wait? I don't wanna wait anymore. That's where these videos started, and yes, it has been a little too confronting for some, who've turned around and in ways attacked me for who I am and these lovely qualities that make me, me.” 

 

Devi stopped again. She wanted to say the thing that everyone says in an attempt at comfort when a relationship breaks up or ends because the other person walked away; that it was their loss. She knew that to be true, but it didn't feel to her like just their loss. She'd been drawn to these people for a reason, She'd loved and connected with them for a reason. Yes, that had now been clouded by their final actions and the way things had ended in those friendships, but those reasons still existed. But really, even though she'd lost too, the absence of her in their lives was a loss.

 

“But anyway,” Devi continued her video recording. “Those losses I’ve had taught me the importance of love, and so I wanted to explain where I'm coming from, so that you know, and hopefully so that you can understand why I do these videos.” She paused to take a breath, making sure she was looking directly at the camera. “I don't want you to have any doubt about how I feel. I want you to remember but you are loved, because I know what it's like to not feel like you’re valued, or even wanted. It's horrible and not something that I want anyone else to experience if I can help it at all. Also, contrary to what some might think, love is not something that is finite. I mean this in the sense that there's not necessarily a limited quantity to go around. Spreading love, like spreading joy costs nothing, so I'm going to do it until my last breath. Because life is pointless without them." Devi smiled. "Thank you, Lewis, for helping me find the words to express and explain this." She referred not to a friend, but to the talented Scottish singer-songwriter she'd grown fond of, particularly for his ability to articulate his experiences and perspective through music.  "Y'all I'm taking 'treat others how you want to be treated' to a whole new level.”     

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This story continues the story of Devi, 'Devi's Diaries' which started here. 

Special shout out to the amazing Lewis Capaldi, who's sharing of the meaning behind his song Pointless helped inspire this story. 

Chasing The Light

 It had been so long since she'd seen light that when she came across it again, it was like she was discovering it for the very first time. Her small, restricted space was dark, almost pitch black. The introduction of a little lightbulb was fascinating. Even more so when it started to glow. She wanted so much to hold it and protect the warmth that emanated from the bulb, but it was more than warm to the touch.

 

Slow and careful, she inspected the light from each angle. her gaze locked on it she watched transfixed as it started to rise up and out of her space. She rose after it, finding that with help, she too could be lifted from the dark place she’d been trapped in. She stood, steady and cautious, like a bird testing it’s wings for flight. Then, she jumped back down and held the walls that had confined her, realising there was another escape between them. She tested the possibility, like an innocent preparing for a jailbreak and found that yes, she could leave that way too.

 

Slow and sure, she stepped out of the confines she’d thought herself trapped in. A little way out, she leapt for joy at the feeling of freedom and space. The light guided her all the while. She ran and reached for it again, managing to grasp the rope to which it was attached. Joyously, defiantly, she allowed the light to fly and dance around her.

 

She turned in dizzying circles at the return of the restrictive space she’d once been in. Where had the light disappeared to when she’d lost her hold? But this time, the space didn’t seem so scary or confining. Letting out a breath she allowed herself to revel in the space and her newfound knowledge that she was free to leave it whenever she wanted. This small space with her’s, in which to be and she could use it as a platform from which to not just fly, but soar.

 

She tilted her head back, basking in the feeling of wind rushing past her. Only then did the lightbulb, with its glowing light, appear once more. And only now when she finally able to take it in her hands. As she held it and felt its warmth radiating through her fingertips, she realised the light was within her. It shone to fuel her movements and guide her way forward. only then, comforted and safe in that knowledge, holding tight to the light bulb itself could she blow out the light it held.

All About ME

 He waved an unimpressed hand in the direction of his young assistant, her phone in hand as she tried to snap as many pictures as she could. “I get that sort of thing everywhere I go. All I really wanted was a little escape.” He sighed, exasperated. “How far must one go for a little bit of private peace and quiet!?”

 

The young blonde was doing an excellent job of pretending her boss was not getting to her, but little did he realise his comments were starting to crawl under her skin. Are you really looking for peace and quiet, or are you jealous the attention is not 100% on you for a second? She retorted silently to herself before refocusing her attention on the sight in front of her and her mission to capture it on film.

 

“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” she uttered under her breath. But she was close enough that her boss heard her.

“Why yes,” he said, matter of fact as he turned to glance at his assistant. Beside him, she was fighting not to turn red. Did I just say that out loud?

“Yes it is. I’m glad you can see that.” Her boss went on. “And you know, Melanie, that might be perfect for my next project.”

“Huh?”

“I can see it now!” He shot up to stand on his feet, throwing his arms out wide and sending the chair he’d been sitting in flying backwards in the process. He waved his arms around in the air as he said “’All About ME’”, as if envisioning it on a theatre’s signboard. “It’s perfect. All About ME. Martin East. Melanie, you’re a GENIUS!” His stunned assistant froze as he grabbed her by the shoulders. “I could kiss you.” He stopped suddenly, releasing her just as quickly. “But I won’t.”

 

Snapping out of her daze, his assistant scrambled to set his chair upright again. “There you are, Mr. East.”

He sat down absentmindedly without a word of thanks, once again absorbed and lost in his own world.

She turned away to find the sight she’d been trying to capture, a flock of seagulls gathered nearby, had disappeared. “Oh.” She sighed in barely a whisper. Closing her eyes, she recreated the scene in her mind’s eye and breathed a sigh of contentment.   

Maybe This Is How It Feels

The hairs on my arms stand on and when it comes into view, and my breath catches somewhere in my throat. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, looking forward to it, and now, I’m finally here. A breeze hits me as I walk through the gates. The wind washing over me carries more than just cool relief from the warm sunny day. There’s also an air of…. something. Some kind of feeling I can’t quite put my finger on the name of, but a feeling unlike anything I’ve ever felt or experienced before. 

I close my eyes, trying to take it all in one bit at a time. To savour and relish in it. I can’t quite believe it. It feels so surreal. Like I’m existing in some kind of waking dream in place of reality. Like I’ve died and gone to heaven. It’s like… ecstasy. The feeling, not the drug. I haven’t ever experienced the drug, and I don’t plan to. But I imagine this is how it might feel. Maybe they named the drug after the feeling. This feeling. 

Not one of the many people around has said anything to me, exactly. Not explicitly. But there's this understanding. This inherent knowing, that it's ok. That I'm ok. Because everyone is ok. Around me, everyone is just themselves. Without explanation, without justification, without apology. Because there's no need for any of that. Just as it should be. I can't help sighing. I wish it could always be like this. Just for today, how it is. 

Maybe that's what it is, this feeling. I didn't notice it until it was gone, because it's always been there, my whole life. This huge weight. Like I have to fit into a mould there's no way I possibly can do without contorting myself like a circus performer. Like I have to wear a suffocating mask 24/7, straining for air. But suddenly, all of that huge weight is gone. 

Maybe this is how it feels to breathe without restriction. To move without restraint. Maybe this is how it feels to not be carrying weight of pressure and stress to conform around all the time. Maybe this is how it feels when you are allowed to really, truly just be. Maybe this is how it feels to be free.