It's All Good

"How are you always so happy Brook?"

Brook smiled as her gaze turned to the window, and the world beyond. Outside, the sun was shining down and that was enough. She could go outside and bask in it's warmth. Because... why not? Did she really need a reason? Even if it did start to rain, that'd be a-ok with her. It wouldn't make a difference or change a thing, after all. Sure, maybe she'd get a little wet, but that wouldn't stop her from venturing out to go dancing in it.

But, absolutely nothing could beat the time after rain had fallen, when the sun had come out again. Only then could you have the best of both worlds. You had the puddles left over from the rain that you could jump in. But what's more, you also had the sun to warm the water for you. Everything was fresh from the rain and the sun beamed down, lighting the world anew and making all the water droplets that were leftover sparkle. But do you want to know what's even better? The best part? On top of all of it, there was a rainbow waiting to be found just around the corner.

"How can you not be?" Brook turned back to her mother. "It's all good. The sun always ends up shining again. You just have to wait."  

This Will End

This will end. That is my mantra. That is what I tell myself. The words run through my mind on so constant a loop that I  feel like a broken record. I repeat it over and over in a bid to force myself to believe them.

This will end. This is what I have been telling myself for the past... I don't even know how long it's been now. Long enough that I've lost track. The problem is, the deeper we go into this thing, the harder it gets to actually believe that it's true.

This will end. It's true. It has to be. What else is there that I can hold on to if it's not? The world is unraveling fast around me and it really seems like the end. Except it's not. It just feels that way. I can tell myself that it will end all I want, but I'm not so convinced anymore... What I am convinced of is the very real, more likely possibility that I'm going slightly mad...

I'm going slightly mad. Oh dear. But it's true. Trying to ignore the rising panic, the fear and anxiety-inducing news reports. The lack of clarity and certainty about when this will all be over. You'd think blocking out the world would be easier now, but the hissed whispers still creep under the crack of the closed door to lurk in the shadows and haunt me and it's becoming harder and harder.

I'm going slightly mad. We know each other quite well now; me, myself and I. We're getting to that point though where we may well have had too much of a good thing. I want nothing more than to get away from myself, so that I'll miss me. Except I can't. There's nowhere I can go. I am trapped here.

I'm going slightly mad. The allure of spending all this time alone faded away long ago. Staying home all day has turned into a bore- and I liked being at home! I loved it! It was my sanctuary. But the tables turn quickly when all your choices are taken away. And so I tell myself that this will end.

This will end. I will drive myself mad saying it until I believe it. Because it has to end. It just has to. The world can't be ending for forever. It has to go back to normal at some point, surely. I'm going slightly mad waiting and trying to believe it, but this will end. 

Find Me

She looks at herself in the mirror, a small, sad smile stretched across her lips. She positions her arms just as she'd seen the ballerinas do. She studies her reflectiona moment before letting her arms fall down to her sides and moving away.
"It's always just me," she whispers, even though no one's around to hear.

Not always," comes another voice. She follows it to see a young man looking at her through a mirror frame. She reaches out and her finger lands on the glass. Yes, there's something there..

Staring into the young man's eyes, she feels her breath catch in her throat.Their arms mirror one another's up and down before he reaches through and takes hold of her wrist for a moment.He hurries around to catch her as she falls, spinning her around.

When she opens her eyes again, it's like she's somewhere different. He pulls her up to her feet and spins her around on the floor of clouds. He runs after her as she heads for a mirror, this time seeing herself, and the young man with curly blond hair. He tries to touch a hand to her shoulder, but she shrugs it off and runs off in the opposite direction.
She stops, sucking in air through her teeth. Is this real? Or is this just a fantasy? Can I actually let myself believe this is truth?

Turning back to face him, she takes a step away as he tries to take hold of her hand. He raises his arms in front of him like the ballerinas, and they mirror each other spinning around like the dancers she's always dreamed of.

When she raises her arm, he catches it in a loose grip and she allows herself to fall away to the ground. He follows her with his arm as she rises, her eyes meeting his.They reach out toward one another, fingertips almost touching before she finally slips her hand into his and allows a small smile to stretch across her lips.as they turn.

He waltzes her gently through the clouds before lifting her into the air and spinning her around and around. Closing her eyes, she feels the cool breeze rushing past her face. It feels like she's flying, but the entire time, she's safe in his arms. Her feet barely touch the ground before he lifts her into the air again. She reaches up as high as she can, no longer able to stop her smile spreading to light up her entire face. As he lowers her slowly back down, she allows her arms to fall a little, hands clasping together behind her neck.

Her feet touch the ground, but he holds her, strong arms clasped around her waist as he looks into her dark eyes.She bends backwards before springing back and flinging her arms round his neck, hugging him tight. He spins her around once more before setting her back down and running away.

She pushes her hair out of her eyes before turning around to see he's stopped too. He reaches out a hand toward her. The return of her smile cracks the worry that had filled her features for a moment and she runs to him, hand out stretched. Wind rushes through her hair as she reaches him. Hand in hand, they run together, stopping at a mirror frame like the one she'd first found him in.He smiles at her.
"I've always wanted someone to find me," she whispers quietly.
He pulls her in close for a hug. "Here I am."

Beware The Bears

Sweet is what girls want, right? Especially from their boyfriends on Valentine's Day.

Yes, I thought so too. Boy, was I wrong.

Apparently 'sweet' is what new couples or flash young couples do. According to Leah, sweet is unacceptable. At least, not for the second Valentine's Day a couple spent together.  I didn't get it right. Never did, never would, if you asked her. Needless to say, we are no longer an item. Haven't been for two years. But that's not the point. Merely where it all started.

The 'sweet'  gift (unknown to her, last minute, as usual) I bought for her appeared to be the last straw was a teddy bear which, when its foot was squeezed, lifted its arms up and said, "Love me! I want you to love me!" The more I think about it now, the creepier I realise it was. All along. Isn't hindsight wonderful?

But back then I was an innocent, love-struck guy trying to express it to his girl. I'd always loved love. Valentine's day. But it was only since I met her that I had a proper partner to spend it with. The bear had said it. All I wanted was for her to love me. That was all. Just love. The Beatles had said it too. Love is all you need. 

At first, the teddy bears had seemed sweet. They were popular, too. I'd had to wait at the edge of a rather large crowd to get a mere glimpse of them. I felt luck stretch a little in my favour when I was able to snag one of the last ones left in the store. I'd taken it home, and right up until she opened it, it had seemed sweet.

"Are you serious?" she'd screamed. "I can't believe you thought I would actually like this!" 

"Isn't it cute?" I'd asked in a whisper as with the hint of another failed attempt, tears formed behind my eyes and I felt my face grow hot with frustration. "What do you want from me?" 

Two Valentine's Days after Leah's blow-up, when it was just me, myself and I, I noticed the bear sitting high on my shelf and pulled it down for old time's sake. A little rush of nostalgia I suppose. A vague shadow of that feeling I'd been after all those years ago. At first, the bear was completely motionless, moving only when I squeezed it's foot. At first.

After a while, the teddy bear's words, 'love me! I want you to love me!', started to sound a little creepy. I remember standing up, at which point, the bear, which I had positioned on my knee toppled to the floor. I began to walk away before looking back to convince myself the instincts were just scary mind stories. Mind stories that acted like snakes, hissing at an increasing volume to try to make you listen.

My eyes widened at the sight that greeted them. I looked away immediately, shaking my head before looking back again. I blinked. The bear appeared to have moved. It now stood on two legs, its arms extended out in front of it, reaching. For me. I converted to autopilot and slowly stepped backwards, placing all my faith into my intimate knowledge of my own dwelling so as not to trip. But, the faster I backtracked, the quicker the bear advanced, determined to maintain what distance there was between us. 

I couldn't help but laugh as I caught a fleeting glance of myself in the mirror. I looked ridiculous. A middle aged man, wearing nothing but his singlet and boxer shorts running from a tiny, fluffy little teddy bear. if it were any other situation, I would not be able to stop laughing. But, the fact that I was being chased by a psycho teddy bear come to life could not be forgotten, and the situation demanded attention. 

Thankfully, I managed to lock myself in my living room by wedging one of the old family heirloom armchairs against  the door. I fell into the armchair the moment I'd successfully heaved it into place, breathing hard. I stayed there a few minutes while I regained breath before turning on the TV. Surely I was going crazy. 

When I turned the TV on, an image of bears just like my own filled the screen. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them, all walking down a road somewhere, like a tiny mob. Hmm... It would seem that  I was not the only one with a Valentine's bear brought to life. 

"The Valentine's 'Love Me' Teddy Bears appear to have completely come to life," came the voice of a newsreader. "We have footage here of a whole army of Teddy Bears marching down Main Street.."

The screen flashed to a 'breaking news' screen before it cut to another reporter. "Anne, we have breaking visions here. People now appear to be marching and chanting with the Teddy Bears." Over the field reporter's shoulder, I could see a few people dotted among the crowd of bears, their arms forward. My living room was filled with their chant. "Love me! I want you to love me!" as the camera zoomed for a closer shot of them. I watched as the camera passed over countless people, their eyes so glazed over that they closely resembled 

I gripped the arms of the chair so tightly my knuckles began to turn a ghastly shade of white. Right there, on the screen, was her. I couldn't help but laugh, full blown, just about fall off my chair, laughter. The girl I'd just wanted to show love was begging the world for it, just like the crazed Teddy Bears she followed blindly. It was obvious that she wasn't in her right mind. The Leah I knew would be scoffing at this. Complaining about how stupid it was. How the world was getting taken over by a whole bunch of desperate losers. How ironic it was that I'm not in any way a part of this... cult of beggars. 

I shook my head as they zoomed out back to the reporter, who had turned her back to the camera. She too was chanting now, and her arms were out in front of her as she moved robotically toward the mob.

The screen filled with the panicked face of a man, attempting to film himself. "It seems that if you look them directly in the eye, it's like they hypnotise you," he said breathlessly.

"Thank you," the main studio reporter said as the camera crossed back to her and the newsroom. I marveled at the serious expression on her face. At the tiny, barely concealed giggle which momentarily broke her composure. I suppose the whole situation would seem quite humorous to someone not in the thick of it. But I was in the thick of it. I am in the thick of it, I realise as I hear the bear outside rapping on the door, louder now.

Days later, I am still trapped in my living room. I can hear the bear on the other side of that door. Still trying to break its way through the wood. There could be more bears now. I don't know, and I don't dare open the door to find out. I write this to get the word out there. To warn people. Get as far away from them as you can, and whatever you do, do not make eye contact. Should you make that mistake, you will be begging the world to love you too. Ironic really, given that's really how all this started. At least for me. One last, desperate, yet failed plea for adoration. But, you've been warned. Beware the bears.

Myrtle

Students parted like the Red Sea as Myrtle approached. She walked through the crowd accompanied by the click clack of her high heeled stilettos and the whispered murmuring of students. Were they talking about her? They'd better be.

There was a buzz left in her wake, riding the tail of her light summer coat as the edges trailed along the ground behind her. Myrtle smiled as the buzzing turned into screaming. She glanced behind her to see some girls almost tearing at each other's throats, vicious animals native to the school courtyard. Others still whispered, stealing glances her way. Myrtle grinned back at those who caught her eye. 

As she passed the sporting fields, the young men stopped racing about and turned to look. They threw themselves against the wire fences just to get a glimpse, as if she were a celebrity. She paused to flash her blinding pearly whites in their direction, causing many to go weak and fall to their knees. Any longer of a look and several pools of liquid would be all that was left of them. 

If they knew the truth, Myrtle wondered, what would they do then? Would the girls still scream? Would the guys still stop and stare? Would they all still be in awe? 

The idea of losing their adoration, of losing it all, made her want to claw at someone's throat. She rounded a corner, and away from prying eyes, allowed herself to fall against the brick wall and slide down along it to the ground.The thought made her want to melt into a puddle. 

Myrtle beamed as she emerged, all eyes on her once again. She lapped the attention, water that ensured her survival. She closed her eyes, drinking in the sound of her name, a chant coming at her from all directions. She'd never tire of it.

---

Exhaling, Myrtle picked up the pace, eyes not straying from the light at the end of the tunnel; the door to her trailer. As she stepped inside and closed the door behind her with a bang, the noise suddenly died away. Myrtle let herself fall against the door and sighed. "I can't do this," she muttered, running her fingers through her perfect hair, then immediately wishing she hadn't, because it would ruin the hours she'd spent in the hair and makeup chair that morning...

Pushing herself up from the door, Myrtle began pacing the length of her small trailer. "Are they kidding me with this? Can't they keep those pesky paps away?" Pausing, she peered out the window. There were a few people with cameras out there, but far more were armoured with notebooks and pens.

Taking a breath, Myrtle stuck a smile to her face before she reached out and opened the door to go back outside. Waiting by the step was her young assistant, coffee in hand. Myrtle took it without acknowledging her as she began the walk through the crowd. She took a swig of the coffee, allowing it to sit in her mouth for barely a moment before she turned and spat it out on the cement.
"What is this?" Myrtle turned to glare at her assistant, coffee cup clutched in her fingers as if it were toxic. "Celeste, there is absolutely no hint of peppermint in this at all." 
"I'm sorry, Miss," Celeste squeaked, taking the cup from her. "I'll get you a fresh one right away,"

The moment Celeste disappeared from sight, Myrtle turned her attention to the crowd around her, all eyeing her eagerly. She grinned brightly at them, softening to the sweet starlet they all loved. She took a breath and stepped toward them, the chanting of her name like music to her ears.