Dreaming of Another Life

To tell you my name is Maggie would cause me to tell a lie. My name is Margaret. Telling you I condone the current state of the world would also be a lie. There are far too many people then there is space. But alas, I should not complain, for the wealth of my family is such that the space in our home is more than ample for the seven of us; my parents, my four sisters, brother and myself.

It would be wrong of me to deny that I am not privileged. Indeed, I am fortunate enough to belong to one of the most privileged families in England. We may not be part of the royal family’s inner circle, but we are privileged enough for my family to have titles. Even if I am only ever referred to as ‘Lady’ or ‘Miss’.

I must admit, it may be better not to have a life in the palace as a royal. There are far too many protocols and rules one must follow without being a royal. You would not be permitted to make even one miniscule error. As it is, when I do, Mother scolds me to no end. I have enough luxury as Lady Maggie. Perhaps too much. I long for a life of freedom. From the strictness of a life of nobility, from the increasingly crowded streets arising around us. I long for the fresh air and beauty that accompanies a life in the countryside. Or by the sea. By the sea would be wonderful.

Oh, the sea, a world all it’s own! Just think of a life beneath the sea. How wonderful it would be! A whole new world to explore. New creatures to befriend. Perhaps even a tail in place of legs! Now how would that be? To swim rather than walk. To float instead of stand.  I doubt the chill of the water would bother me long. I imagine one would get used to it given time. But the freedom a life beneath the waves would afford would aid me in my plight.

I look out the window now, at the gardens surrounding our home. Sighing heavily, I rise from my chair and set off to seek Mother's permission to explore. 

"Maggie, must you?" she asks. I simply look back at her, unsure of what to say. How to explain it. Then, I nod.
Mother exhales slowly. "Oh..." She looks around her, as if she'll find something to give her the answer. "Oh fine. But... Take one of the staff with you."
I feel my eyebrows rise an inch or two, not quite believing it. I shake my head a moment later, snapping out of my freeze from shock and turning to go. I shan't give Mother the chance to change her mind. I am a few metres away when I hear the sound of Mother's voice flying on the wind into my ear. I freeze and turn back. "Hugo," she says, "take Hugo."
Hugo? Around my age, he serves as our second footman, but hasn't been with us long.
Seeing my expression, Mother speaks again. "Give him a chance, Maggie. He might surprise you. Besides, it is pat of his job. I am sure he will be delighted to accompany you."
"If I must."
Mother places her hands on her hips, her face hardening. "Maggieo5dp," she says. "You told me you 'must' see the sea. This is my 'must'. You take Hugo with you, or you don't go. The decision is yours."
"Fine," I say, sighing.

-O0O-

I look around to see Lady Maggie approaching. I draw a deep breath, doing my best not to let too much of my excitement at her presence bubble through. Her long, regal skirts brush the floor as she walks, concealing her entire lower half from view. I look up to see the garment is fitted from the waist up, ending in a tight, crisp collar around her neck. My eyes reach finally reach her beautiful, porcelain face to find her dark, chocolate eyes staring back at me. Her hair is hidden away, tucked beneath the bonnet tied securely around her neck, the exact same shade of deep purple as her dress. I rise when she stops in front of me. "Hugo," she says. "I wish to see the sea. Would you accompany me."
"Miss Maggie, I would be delighted." She loops her arm through mine and we fall into step quickly and easier on route out of Lady Maggie's family's mansion and toward the sea.

"Why did you want to see the sea, Miss Maggie?" I ask as we stroll through the gardens.
She stops to look at me. "Don't you like the sea?"
I nod. "I quite enjoy the seaside."

"It's so peaceful isn't it?" Miss Maggie asks as the sight of the sand and the ocean stretching out as far as the eye can see appears before us. "I like it here. All we have is the sound of the ocean, a few gulls on occasion..." She stops, closes her eyes and inhales. She sighs with pleasure and begins to spin around, arms outstretched.
"You would make a wonderful dancer, Miss Maggie." I say when she returns.
At this, she sighs. "Mother always tells me the same thing."
"Do you enjoy dancing?" I ask.
"I enjoy ballroom," she says, "but one requires a partner to dance in the ballroom."
 "I'm sure you would have no trouble finding a gentleman to dance with."

Miss Maggie sighs again, turning her gaze toward the ocean. "I wish I could explore more under there. Could you imagine? A whole different world. How I would love a tail instead of legs."
"But Miss Maggie, how would you dance?"
"Hugo," she says, turning her gaze back to me. "Though it does make it considerably easier, one doesn't need legs in order to dance." Without hesitation, she takes my hands in hers and begins swinging them from side to side.
"Under the sea, one could sway, move, spin, dance. The possibilities are endless. "
Before I realise what I am saying, I open my mouth. "But up here, on the surface, you have me." I offer my hand. "I would be honoured to dance with you, my lady."
Miss Maggie hesitates. "Hugo, we mustn't."
"Why not Miss Maggie? We've nothing to loose. It's just you, me and the sea."
"No one to hear us but the gulls I suppose," she says in a whisper. I nod, a small smile stretching across my lips. I uncurl my fingers and meet her chocolate eyes with mine. "Miss Maggie, will you dance with me?" 

Brave

Alone, in the darkness of his quiet room, Joshua Keating was fine. There was nothing unusual or unexpected. No surprises or scary things to give his heart an unpleasant jolt. Inside was familiar, comforting and safe.

Until the outside started to creep into his peaceful safe haven. Suddenly, he could hear yelling outside his room. Muffled somewhat, because of the door, but yelling all the same. It grew louder and louder until it was all he could hear. Outside the door, he could hear the yelling and screaming, and then his dog, who was standing guard at the door, began to bark in response. The dog meant well. He was trying to tell them to stop, that the noise was upsetting his boy, but all he was doing was adding to the cacophony of noise assaulting Joshua's ears.

The one good thing was that the darkness of the room meant that Joshua could see little, cutting out another source of potential overload. But, he could still hear the yelling and the screaming. To a certain extent, he could feel the tension the yelling brought with it, and it made him feel rather uneasy. Joshua clasped his hands so hard against his ears that it caused him pain and began moaning, louder and louder until it drowned out the yelling and the screaming and the barking. Until it was all he could hear, but he kept going. It was an endless, vicious cycle. Noise to cover noise to cover noise that never seemed to stop.

Joshua did not know when he fell asleep. He did not have a great recollection of the night before. He just knew that he was glad to have awoken from the nightmare that was too much. Too much noise. Too many thoughts racing around and battling each other inside his mind. Too much stimulation. When he opened his eyes, he saw the sleeping form of his dog laying atop his feet. He saw this before he felt the warmth of the dog's body on top of him, and smiled. This, he could handle. This was all pleasant. Not overwhelming, overstimulating or overloading. This was nice. The yelling had stopped. Everything was quiet and calm. Just how he liked it.

In his room, everything was safe and quiet and calm. Outside, there was noise and light. Tension and emotions he could not understand nor name. But, Joshua remembered his mother telling him that he could not stay in the nest forever. This had confused him. But, she had explained, he was like a bird. A bird that needed to be brave and learn how to fly. "Venture outside your room," she'd said when he'd looked back at her blankly.  "Take a big breath, reach out, open that door and step outside," she'd said. "Your dog can come with you." As if to agree, Joshua's dog had suddenly appeared beside him, under his outstretched hand. He looked down, smiled at him and ruffled his chocolate coloured fur.

Joshua rose from his bed, clipped on his dog's leash, holding it tightly in his right hand. His dog stood obediently beside him as he stood, staring silently at the door. He took a big breath. Then, like the brave baby bird his mother had said he was, he reached out and turned the doorknob, opening it, and himself, to the outside world. Again, he paused for breath before taking a step. Like the baby blue bird, spreading it's wings and starting to learn how to fly.

Something to Believe In

I watch them through the window, all blindly bowing down. They trace a cross across their chests and look up at the ceiling, toward the sky and the heavens, believing God is up there. Somewhere. I can't help but wonder though... If there were a God, then why would he (presuming it is a he) let such awful things happen? Whole populations dying? People told to hide who they are. People told it's wrong. Turn it off! It's just like a light switch, they say, just turn it off. As if it's so easy.

But, why not turn it off when leaving it on opens you up to so much ridicule and just pure hatred? Because, why should I have to? I am what I am. Why should I have to change that just to please someone else? There will be people out there, somewhere, there will be people out there who can see my true colours, the real me shine through. Not just see it, but appreciate it. Accept it. Like it even. They'll be out there somewhere. I just have to find them. Find my tribe.  

Watching from a nearby, partially concealed bush, I watch as the churchgoers emerge following the conclusion of the service, dressed to the nines in their Sunday best, smiling from ear to ear, their skin glowing and eyes glittering with hope. A chilly gust of wind washes over them, causing me to shiver in my cold, shady cover, but it doesn't seem to phase them in the slightest. The wind washing over them seems to blow away the troubles with which they walked in, ensuring they're not collected on the way out. Instead, they are left with a refreshing glimmer of hope for a latter day.

So maybe there is something there? Something good about this odd organised group who blindly follow their leader, who in turn teaches from a book of stories and passages. That's why they call it faith I guess. To believe when there is no tangible evidence.

I used to be one of them once, going to Church each week, dressed in my best formal clothes. But I turned my back when they started telling people to turn parts of themselves 'off'. When they told them to deny who they are, taught them to be fearful and ashamed of who they are. How could I be part of something that condones that? But now, I wonder, is there something else to it? Something good?

"You don't really believe it's all true, do you?" asked Toni when I meet her at a café later that afternoon. "That someone killed their own brother? That the world was flooded in an attempt to rid the world of evil?"
I shake my head slowly, staring at my feet and feeling rather stupid.
"They talk in metaphors. They're symbols," she says, "like rainbows signifying hope."
"And pride," I say, a small smile cracking my lips.
"Yes," says Toni. "Like rainbows colouring the world, and especially our community with hope and pride, and with them, happiness and joy."

She reaches across the table, taking my hand in hers and squeezing gently. "Just because you have faith doesn't mean you have to believe everything. Take the parts that you like, and leave the rest. It wouldn't be right to try and shed parts of yourself because they don't fit the rigid mould created by some sheltered old fart thousands of years ago. Everyone is different. Everyone is unique. No one should get to dictate you like that. So don't let them. Be who you are. Be you."
"Thanks Toni." I squeeze her hand lightly in return.
"But if the thought that there are angels watching over you, or a heaven that you go to when you pass on... If believing those things gives you the strength, the will to survive and go on with this crazy, wild ride called life, then by golly, believe with all your might," she says.

"Don't let anyone stop you." I can hear her voice like a whisper in my ear, almost feeling the warm breath created by her words tickle my ear. And now, I look up at the sky above, almost cloudless, but for a few big white puffs floating along the bright blue expanse and her face appears like a hollow silhouette against the backdrop of one of the clouds and she smiles as our eyes meet. I smile back at her, my angel. "I promise," I whisper under my breath, hoping she'll hear me somewhere. "I promise that I'll keep being. That I'll keep believing. I promise."
   

Vi

DISCLAIMER: this story contains more mature themes & content then my works usually do and is not suitable for younger readers. But I promise, there are plenty of other stories you can read if you scroll through a little further!
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“Oh. Wow!” he said, panting for breath. “Vi, you are good.”
“It’s what I do Darlin,” came the woman’s country drawl on the other end of the phone. “Will we be meeting at the stables again next week?”

With the client’s confirmation of their next appointment, Vi hung up. Lina shook her head, shaking off the persona of Vi she’d put on for the call. She had barely a moment to herself before she had to slip into being Vi again as a seductive combination of drums and saxophone signaled another client calling in.

“Hi,” she said. This time, her voice was breathy and a little deeper than usual. It was part of the job, playing characters to appeal, attract and arouse. The aim was to leave each client breathless, but wearing a big fat grin.

Lina sighed heavily after hanging up with her fifth caller. A gust of fresh air came rushing through the window, washing over her. She basked in it a moment, grateful. Her peace however, only lasted a moment before the doorbell rang. She closed her diary, hurriedly stuffing it in her desk drawer.

A smile stretched across Lina’s lips as she opened the door to reveal a tall, lanky guy with pale skin and dark brown hair standing on the other side. “Hey Lina,” he said.
“Alex!” She didn’t hesitate to throw herself at him. He’d been out of town for a couple of months, travelling for his work. “You’re back!”
Beaming, he spun her round effortlessly. “And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” he said, setting her on the ground again.

Lina’s face fell. “Was it really that bad?” she asked, taking his hand and leading him inside. They sat opposite one another at the small dining table under the window in the kitchen of her small city apartment.

“I quit.” Alex grinned. “You know me Lin, I’m not the best with people. Never have been. I still don’t know why they hired me. Or why I thought going for the job was a good idea in the first place.”
Lina reached out, punching him playfully. “It got you out of the house!” she said. “You’re too much of a home hermit otherwise. Have you actually been home yet?”
“Only to drop off my bag.”
Lina’s mouth fell open. “And here I was sure you would’ve gone straight home and shut yourself in!”
“I’m not that bad, Lina. I had to see my best friend! Besides, who are you to be commenting? You’re not much better yourself. You even work from home.”
Lina tossed a lock of her golden hair over her shoulder, shrugging her shoulders. “Perk of the job I suppose.”
“You never told me what you do.” Alex complained, his pout exaggerated.
“Yes I did,” she said. “I told you. I’m a call girl.”

Alex guffawed, almost falling off his chair in the process.
“Careful!” said Lina with a giggle, rushing around to push the seat forward again and prevent him tipping over.

“But really,” he said, still laughing a little. “You. A call girl?”
“Yes,” she said. “For a call centre.”
“A call centre,” Alex repeated. There was a long pause, then, “Yeah. I can see you doing that actually. You’ve always had a way with people. You’re such a workaholic. I bet you have the office record for getting your callers to do exactly what you want.” Lina said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. This was getting dangerous. Much too close to the truth for her liking. There was no way she'd tell anyone the truth. Not even Alex. She'd thought about it many times, but she could never actually bring herself to do it. Not after the last time. The friend she'd told hadn't spoken to her since. She remembered what they'd said, clear as day. "I'm not sure what's more sinful," they'd said, tutting and shaking their head. "The fact that you do this kind of work or the fact that you actually enjoy it." Now, Vi was her secret. Her dirty little secret. And she planned for it to stay that way.

Catching a glimpse of Lina's clock over her shoulder, Alex gasped. "I should get home," he said, quickly standing up.
Lina sighed. "Already?" she asked, following him toward the door.
He stopped and touched a hand to her shoulder when they reached it. "I'm sorry Lin," he said. "I wish I could stay, but I promised my parents I'd meet them for dinner later. I have to go home, dump my stuff and change before then,"
Alex kissed her cheek before he left. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Lina. “Just… Just don’t be a stranger ok? I've missed you!”

After Alex left, Lina returned to work. She was a workaholic. At least that much of what he said about her career was true. She logged on to her ‘Gimme Sugar’ profile to see she had a new client. Sam. She smiled. It was always fun to get a new client. New likes, new desires, new fantasies, and a new character for Vi to play.

Lina picked up her phone and dialled the number on her computer screen “Hi there,” she said in her best sultry tone. “Is this Sam?”
“Yeah,” came a weak male voice.
“Well Sam,” said Vi, “I hear you’re in the market for a good time. Looking for a little sugar?”
“Yeah.” It seemed to be all the guy could get out of his mouth.
“Tell me Hon. What do you like? What excites you?”
“A pretty girl. Are you pretty?”
Lina opened and closed her mouth a few times, slipping out of character a moment. “I think that’s for you to decide.”
“Well you sound beautiful,” said Sam.
Lina tried to stifle her sigh of relief. “Well sweetheart,” she said, back to being Vi again, “what’s your ultimate fantasy?”
“Flowers,” said Sam.  Why did a guy this charming need a call service? “I would love to make love in a sea of flower petals.” Lina could have melted. He sounded so sweet.
“In a spa?” Lina asked, starting to like this idea herself. Very much. Pity she only did this on the phone...

“Yeah,” said Sam, his voice breathy. “But I don’t know if I could ever actually do it.  I have this friend.. She always says I need to put myself out there more.”
“She?” Lina said before she could stop herself. “Do you like her?”
As Sam spoke, Lina clapped her hand over her mouth, as a thought hit her. No, it wouldn't be. It couldn't be. She brushed the thought away,
Luckily for her, even if he did notice, Sam didn’t seem to mind. “I think I do. It’ll never happen though.”
Lina smiled. “Well I can be your dream girl, Darling. You can live out your fantasies with me.” Just like that, Vi was back in control.

“I’m all wet. Are you going to come in with me? There’s a few petals stuck to me. They’re all silky. Do you want to touch them?”
“Yes, I can feel it. You’re so wet, and gorgeous.” He gasped and groaned, a sign Lina was doing her job right. They’d been doing this same routine for a few months.

Up until now, it had only ever been phone sex, which is why Lina was so taken aback by Sam’s request one day. “Look Vi. Valentine’s day is coming up, and it would be really nice not to spend it alone, for once. Could we get together? Could I see you?”
Lina knew there was nothing against it in the rules. Just that she had never done it face to face before. But she liked this guy. “Sure, but it’ll cost extra.”
“Ok,” said Sam. He still sounded exhausted. "But... how will I know it's you?"
"I..." She thought for a moment. "I'll have a big heart hanging on my chest."
It took Sam a moment to unscramble what she was saying so that the words made sense. He nodded. "I'll bring you a rose."
Lina smiled. He was so romantic. Why did he have to be her client?

A week later, the big night came. Lina had spent hours transforming herself into Vi. She arrived early in the hotel and got herself a drink. It never hurt to have a little extra happy in your system, especially if you weren’t used to doing this sort of thing.

Her mouth dropped at the sight of the guy she’d come to meet. He had dark brown hair, with a fringe that was swept to the side and gelled into place. She knew from the slightly nervous, slightly excited look in his eyes that this was her client. But this guy was not Sam. This guy… this guy was Alex.

Lina had risen to her feet when she’d spotted him, but it wasn’t until Alex came closer that he realised who she was. He stopped, inches away from her, his eyes growing wide. He knew it was Vi, because of the large, silver heart resting on her cleavage. This girl was beautiful. Her golden hair cascaded down past her shoulders in luscious, curly waves, her deep blue eyes sparkling like sapphires amidst the attractively dark circles created by her mascara. Her lips, a bold shade of ruby red stood out against the paleness of her skin. This girl was everything he'd imagined. This girl was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. This girl... This girl was Lina. Not Vi. Lina. His beautiful best friend who he'd known for forever. Who he'd loved for forever. “Lina?” he said, not quite believing it.
“Alex.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m here for work,” Lina said simply.
“I’m here for a date.” He looked her up and down. “With a girl with a big heart necklace..” he added slowly, his eyes sweeping over it.
“You’re Sam,” she said after a moment, gasping
“You’re Vi.”
“In another life,” Lina answered. “But I don’t have to be, if you don’t want me to. Do you still want to…”
“If you’re ok with it,” said Alex. “You know that girl I told you about, when you first called me as Vi?” Lina nodded.

“I was talking about you.” He came closer, so he was pressed up against her, their faces inches apart. " I'd rather do it with you though, Lina", he whispered.
Her entire body tingled at the sound of her name on his lips. "I love you, Lina," he said, looking at her beautiful sapphire eyes, locked on his. "I always have."
"Really?" she asked.
"Yes."
"I love you too Alex."
He leaned in, closing the gap between them completely. He kissed her with the furious intensity of someone who had been holding back the urge for far too long. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around him and kissing him back, years of love pouring out of her. She closed her eyes, basking in the moment she'd always dreamed of.

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For Brandi, Alaina and Amelia. Thanks for the inspiration

Bubbles

So slowly they form, the foamy liquid sticky to the touch, connecting to the hard, plastic wand like a magnet. Slowly, air blows in and they detach themselves in perfect spheres to float along in the air. Serenely, they float alone, as if sitting on the sea, gently bobbing up and down with the rise and fall of the small waves.

Your excitement builds as a rainbow forms on the liquid where the light hits it. As the bubble takes shape from your simple breath of life, your smile couldn't be bigger. Your anticipation, your excitement grows. You're on the edge of your seat. The build up pours out of you as you chase the bubble, floating along in the breeze. All you want is to run alongside it, feeling the wind rush through your hair.

Sometimes, if you're very lucky, you'll get caught in the bubble. Concealed within it's embrace. You can't help but be happy in that bubble. Nothing can touch you. Not in your bubble. Your bubble is complete bliss. There's no darkness, no worries here in this small slice of tranquillity. It feels like heaven. Like a beautiful breeze enveloping you, washing you anew. You've never felt better. Never more free in your life than right here. You could dance in deliriously happy circles, scream and shout with sheer joy from the rooftops.

And then, the bubble bursts. One sharp prick is all it takes and your beautiful world. The beautiful mirage you'd come to see as real suddenly disappears in an instant. You are dropped painfully, forcefully back down. You hit the cold hard ground with a harsh thud and curl up in a ball. It feels like glass has shattered, and you're surrounded by it's broken remains. You want to cry, but you know that won't do anything. It won't put that beautifully blissful bubble back together. It won't fix what's been broken beyond repair.

Finally, you take a breath and look up. Your lips curve slowly upward at the edges at the sight before your eyes. There are more beautiful bubbles bobbing along in the sky, and you realise then that even if one bubble bursts, if you just wait, long enough, another bubble will be brought to life. And if you're very lucky, it might engulf you in it's joyous embrace and take you on a ride awhile, away from your troubles and worries. Away from the hard, confusing world. But the more bubbles you have, the more you learn to cushion the fall when they burst, and the more you believe that another bubble will soon bob by to take it's place.