Whimsical Flipancy
The hollow Quonset
echoes with my voice
Its hard to focus
on all the bad
when all I hear is noise
I think back
to the old me
the one I was before
I was capricious
eccentric
and so much more
It feels like no one knows
the pain and suffer
that the cancer brings
I hurt everyone around me
I see it in their eyes
eveytime
my mom sees me
her eyes fill
and she cries
It’s only when I open my mouth
and sing
that everything goes away
It’s such a whimsical flipancy
Its hard to ignore
Singing is the only time
I get the type of attention
I adore
My hair has long since been lost
it flew away
just like my will to fight did
that very terrible day
Maybe one day
I’ll regain my volatility
but until then
I’ll have to survive
without my vitality
For now
I wont live
I’ll only survive
because I can’t leave
that same bereaved look
in my mothers eye
This is my escape
from the pressure
the fate
the one I hold
so dearly yet hate
#Sing #Literature #CancerCanBeBeaten #Fight
Relapse
The words strike my skin and dig there way into my marrow. All I hear is the first sentence; your cancer is back. After that everything is fuzzy. I hear people talking, but they’re underwater, unclear.
I think my mom is crying, maybe my dad too. I feel nauseous. My hair has only just grown back, I’ve only just built up to my strength to where it was, I’ve only just gotten my life back. And now I’m supose to give it up it Chemo again?
What if I don’t do it? What if I choose not to fight? What if I give up?
My head spins. I can’t even imagine being that sick again, feeling the way I did after every apppointment. I cant do it again.
But when I look at my mom, sitting in the corner, tears streaming down her face, soaking through klenex after klenex, I know I can’t give in. I have to fight. If not for me than for her. She gave me everything I could ever want; a loving mother, a friend that will always be by my side, a shoulder to cry on.
She has so much more to loose than I do. She has a child, someone she raised and cared for because it was hers. I only have myself to loose, and sometimes I wish I could loose her anyways.
I can’t predict what the future holds, or how it’ll turn out. But I do know I’ll have people beside me, fighting right along with me. #Sentimental #IDidIt #SoCanYou #DontGiveUp #Fight
Snowflakes
The snowflake landed on her nose. All I wanted to do at that point was slap it off. Her smile was so bright. Her hair so perfect. How could she do this to me? How could she leave me like that?
Every memory we’ve ever shared crossed my mind in a second. Those same smiling lips on mine. That bright blonde hair resting on my shoulder.
She smiled as the boy we met at a football game came up to her and grabbed the hat off her head. My heart swelled. I would always be in love with that girl.
The boy ran as my, now hatless, ex girlfriend chased him down. Eventually she caught up. She kissed him. They left together.
My heart broke again. If that possible. Maybe you can’t break something thats a;ready broken, but then again, maybe you can.
I knew I’d never be enough for her. No guy could ever fill the shoes of someone she deserved. But, I thought, at least, that I was a better choice than this boy. The one who would break her heart, if I didn’t do anyhting about it.
Broken
I'm not broken
I've shattered
into a million peices
I've hit the floor
you said you loved me
only
you loved her more
The memories
the ones of us
they never seem they'll fade
like a tatoo
theyve benn imprinted
forever
on my brain
The storm you bring
it hits me
every time your around
I guess I love the rain
because I'm here
willing to drown
Shadows
Chapter 1
Warm isn’t something I’m used to feeling. Warm is a temperature. Something that touches your skin. Warm is not a feeling. Yet somehow, looking back at this moment, I was warm; an unconscious feeling of happiness, where there's simply nothing to make you feel otherwise because everything is going just right. I think that night, will be the last time I’ll be warm, for a very long time.
I had just gotten done with an amazing lunch date with my boyfriend and on the way back we jumped an Adian train and found sugar and flour. These are things were never given in Neesha so when I came home with half the load we were ecstatic.
Mom prepared the oven straight away and my twin sister Emberly hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. Ovia, an adorable little girl that found her way into our family, would have screamed if she didn't know Emberly would yell at her for it. We turned the radio on and made do with our medium sized, kitchen. Em, and I no longer lived in the house so it was nice to have us all together and I missed the farmhouse vibe of the place.
We sang at the top of our lungs and made sugar cookie batter. We ate at least half of it before it could even reach the oven, but we had plenty. We hadn't had a treat like this in at least a year, so it was a little hard for us to handle ourselves. Emberly is always so composed and uptight, it was so nice to see her let loose.
Mom didn't even protest when Emberly “sped up” the baking process a little and I did the same for the cool down. We didn't have icing, so we just melted the sugar and added fruits or berries for flavor and color. It may have been late February, but Christmas cookies felt necessary. So, we melted together the last of our sugar for sprinkles and sat at the table laughing while we failed at creating jolly old men from half burn cookies.
But we didn't care, because life was warm.
We always fight. My mom and I, Emberly and I, Emberly and my dad, my mom and my dad, Emberly and Ovia, Ovia and my mom. There were few of us who got along, so the fact that we could sit there, eagerly waiting for my dad to come home to tell him the news, and let him try his share at a reindeer, was incredible. Even though Emberly still wasn’t on speaking terms with him and Dad wasn't even there yet, it really felt like the whole family had come together because we knew the moment he walked through that door everything in the whole world would be perfect. I think we all knew it wasn't gonna last, but we wanted that memory so that we could replay it when things got rough again. We never did get that memory, because Dad never walked through the door.
I think it was some of the guys from the gang, the ones who followed my dad around like they were disciples and he was Jesus, but I don't remember much after that clearly. I know they knocked on the door, and we all got a little excited because we thought it was Dad. The broke the news right away and mom flipped. She started crying as soon as they left.
When those few precious words left their mouths, I shattered. I didn't even know how to feel. My feet stopped working, my legs wouldn’t support me, my brain refused to think, and my eyes forgot how to cry, because crying is something you do when you lose something so insignificant it hurts. Crying is what I do when my favorite character in a book dies, or when Cove and I fight. But this, this wasn't even on the same level as those things. I shut down.
According to Emberly, I sat in my chair, staring at the wall in front of me for the better part of twenty minutes while Emberly cried and held my mom in her arms, letting her feet light into flames so she could cool down the rest of her body. My mom screamed for a while, but I don’t remember.
I’m not sure why it took so long for it to sink it. Maybe I was still waiting for him to walk through the door, or maybe some part of me wanted to sit there, in that chair and pretend like it never happened. Pretend like I had never heard, because he had been dead before we knew about it, and we went on with our lives merrily. So, maybe if we just forgot what we heard, it would all be better. But it didn't get better. I don't remember what triggered me; what set me off to realize that he was really gone.
But I do remember screaming, and I remember my hands turning bright blue before ice particles shot from them encasing the house in a frozen sheet of ice. I remember hearing the walls creak as the vengeance inside me became ready to send it crashing down. My home, the place where I spent fifteen years living under my father's roof and being with him for every day of it. I didn't want to see it any longer. I didn't want to feel his presence in it, and the fact that the rest of my family was still inside didn't even cross my mind much less matter. I wanted it to shatter as I had, and I would have done it too. If Emberly hasn't knocked me out first.
Next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital, Emberlys hand in mine, telling me I need to find a dress for the funeral. At first, I was a little confused, still thinking everything that happened was a dream, but it wasn't. My father was gone, and I was broken. I’m still broken, it’s not that I’m getting better, I’m just getting better at hiding it.
“Hey, Eira.” Caryla smiles as she slides into my room through the cracked door. Her smile is genuine, but it's laced with sympathy and condolence. “You almost ready?” Her dark hair slides across her face and she tucks it back behind her ear. The black lace dress she's wearing makes her pale skin look almost ghost like and the expression she wears makes her seems as if she is one. I guess I’m not one to say anything though. The bags under my eyes seem to consume my face and my once bright shining features have turned dull. Lately, I’ve been avoiding mirrors for that very reason. My natural born beauty has turned and my sleep deprivation and constant crying have done me no favor.
Today I wear a black dress as well. It's simple. No lace or straps down the back, just a silk knee length funeral dress. With it, I wear thick leather gloves with silk covering the outside in hopes no one will notice. The gloves help me control my ice. Lately, I haven't been very good at that. “Yea. I’ll be down in a few.” I try to act casual about it. Caryla and I don't really talk about sensitive things. I know that if I wanted to she would listen but it's just never really been our relationship.
I grab my gloves and slip out the door. I decide to walk to the funeral. I need some time to myself before I have everyone's eyes on me. I take the back routes throwing coins at beggars until there's nothing left in my pockets. Some of them are regulars there and greet me with a smile and wave, or a hug filled with pity. Most back out of the hug quickly though. My skin is cold to the touch. I know that. I can't control it anymore. Sometimes I hear my father's words run through my head. Breath Eira. Think warm thought. All the stress built up on your shoulders is melting away, let the heat in. Don't push it all away, and above all, don't get caught.
Try taking your own advice
The last few days have been some of the hardest of my life. Everyone knows that people like my dad, and Emberly and I are nearly destined to die too soon, but we've always been so careful. We never let anyone know about us. I never thought this day would come. I never thought the government would catch him, and I can only hope it doesn’t catch us.
I don't want to think about him though. If I think about him, I cry, and I hate crying. I walk all the way to the funeral home. Its run down just like every building in the Neesha's. Made of solid brick because the heat down here is too intense for metals in the summer.
The funeral home that was having the service at is in the far corner of our sector. Sector 7, known as the poorest of the fifteen sectors in Neesha. I arrive late. I had planned to save myself some time, and maybe even get here early, but just leaving the house was a struggle in its own.
By the time I show up the place is already packed and the ceremony has started. I’m almost always late so it's not a surprise to most. As I walk in though, surprised or not, everyone's watching me. I can feel the eyes on my back as I go to sit in the front seats reserved for Emberly, my mother, and I., Of course, Emberly's already here, and my mother probably won't show. She took it harder than the rest of us. She went home to Adia to stay with our grandparents while she recovers.
“You're late.” Emberly hisses. She wears a seemingly simple black dress with intricate little designs covering the skirt and a veil over her head.
“It's not like Dad cares,” I say under my breath, halfway hoping she won't hear it.
Of course, she does. She simply rolls her eyes and places her hands respectfully in her lap. Two seats to the right of me is my Uncle Victor, right now he has temporary control over the gang and the worry lines on his face show its toll. I know most of the crowd and can recognize the others from past events, but my father knew a lot of people, and it seems as if all of Neesha is grieving today.
The ceremony starts with my uncle telling stories of him and his brother from when they were little. The time he fell down a well is one of my favorite stories of him, and it seems to get more and more dramatic each time Victor tells it, but I don't really listen today. It seems so dull without Father sitting next to him.
Emberly goes next. Her speech is short and polite. She tells us how much she misses him and how much the rest of Neesha misses him too. She gives a little story of the time he tried to help out at the schoolhouse and became friends with a little girl. After that she thanks everyone for coming and steps off the stage.
I decide not to speak. For as much as everyone seems to think I love attention, they don't seem surprised when I don't walk up to the podium. I don't cry either. I was sure I was going to, and many times through the service tears gather under my eyes but they never fall. I've shed my tears, and my father hated crying.
Dozens of people stand and speak, telling there most memorable stories. Then out comes the cake, red for Sector 7. Afterward were expected to stand outside and bid everyone goodbye. I try to leave but Emberly holds me back, so I simply nod as everyone offers me their pity.
“You did good,” Emberly says once everyone's left.
“You mean I kept my mouth shut.”
She gives me half a smile, “You didn't blow anything up either.”
I snort. “Your speech was great.” I mean it.
She rolls her eyes, “No it wasn't. It was just what everyone wanted to hear.”
I purse my lips. She hadn't been on speaking terms with my father for almost two years when he died. “And if you hadn’t it would have spread like wildfire that even after death you wouldn't forgive him.” There's a slight edge in my voice.
“Well, then it's a good thing I did.” Her face is laced with hidden remorse; she's too stubborn to admit it, but she misses him. I pull her in for a hug and walk over to my father's casket to say goodbye, knowing well that peace, is the last place he will rest.
I’m exhausted. It’s crazy how I can run miles and miles, and not break a sweat, but a funeral service takes the life right out of me. I want to head home right afterward, but when I notice a certain set of footsteps following me through the crowd of the marketplace I know I can't lead my persistent anywhere near my house.
My father has had me in training since I could walk, and I’m now the best fighter in Neesha. The only one who could ever beat was my father (and occasionally Emberly). Whoever is following me either doesn't know me or has a death wish.
As I'm listening to the gate of the person though I notice similarities. The person takes approximately two strides to my three and drags there left toe slightly at the weight transfer. When the person coughs as I turn into the back alleyway next to my house a smile cuts across my face.
I turn spin on my heel to face him, the crowded streets behind him leave him enveloped in darkness in the empty alleyway like me.
“You weren't at the service,” I note.
“Yea, well you dad didn't exactly like me,” Cove says, stepping closer to me.
I laugh a little, “No, he hated you.”
He flashes a mischievous smile through the darkness and pushes me up against the brick wall beside us. With his hands on my waist and my lips pressed against him, I try to melt away. I try to ignore all the thoughts swimming around my brain like a koi pond, but I can’t, no matter how much I want to.
“Was your mom there?” He asks, my hands still wrapped around his neck, his face inches from mine.
“No,” I say leaning back from him and resting my head against the wall.
He just nods.
“Emberly was there,” I note when the silence between us becomes desperate.
He gives a meager laugh, “Of course she was, the last thing she did was respect your father.”
I purse my lips, “Yea, but she had a reason to be mad. And she's hurting even more now that he's gone. She never got to forgive him ya know.”
He nods again and we walk in silence the rest of the way to my house.
Cove grabs the key under the wilted plant and turns the knob. He knows the place well enough. We've been dating for almost five years now. Off and on though.
I first met Cove when he was just seven and I was six. I was practicing in the woods, preparing myself for training that afternoon, when I heard a scream pierce the air. I ran towards the sound, my novice hands circulating with their bright blue ice. That's when I saw him. The nice boy with the too-long hair from my class. He was always shy and quiet, but now I could practically hear the terror in his eyes.
There was a guard standing right above him, gun pressed to his head. I was so young there's no way I really understood. Looking back on it, I know that he was being punished for hunting. There’s a strict rule against it since there are so few animals, but at the time all I understood was the gun and the look on the boys face.
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just run away, I had to help him and I was scared. He cocked the gun, ready to fire when I let my ice fly, freezing his feet to the ground and coating his hands in ice. I didn't kill him, but he knew about me, so I might as well have. I took Cove to my house and we told my dad everything. I don't know what he did to the guard, but I know he never told a soul about me. And Cove has been a part of my life ever since.
We became fast friends, and eventually more than that. For a while, we dated on and off, more for fun, but really we were just friends.
After those first few years though, things started getting real. His family fell apart and Emberly and I started drifting away. We clung onto everything we had, which just happened to be each other. We've been dating through the better part of a two years now.
When we enter my house he goes right to the guest room and drops off his things. He already has a drawer of essentials here. I enter the kitchen. Its small, only a fridge, microwave, and an old-fashioned oven can fit, but its home, and it's a lot better than what most people have. It's a little two bedroom and one bathroom house on the corner of Wall Street and Pine Ave, hidden behind an old rickety shack. I like it though. It’s easy to maintain and has a homey vibe to it.
I start the oven, having to hit it a few times to make it work when my phone buzzes. It’s my grandma, inviting me up to Adia again. I can only shake my head.
It's tempting, I’ll admit. The last time I was there I was seven, and it was magical. When you live in the dark all your life you get used to it, so when this giant, vast sea of air opens above your very eyes in an array of colors with light so bright you have to squint for almost two days before your eyes adjust, you never forget the sight. Living under the crust of the Earth doesn't seem so bad from down there, but when you have giant forests filled with trees so lushes that the light can barely seep through the leaves in some places, Neesha sounds like a prison camp.
The only issue is the people, obsessed with bloodlines and DNA. Who belongs to who and who has the upper end of the hierarchy, it's disgusting. I could never live up there. I would never fit in.
Chapter 2
It's a big week. What's called the “Upperman inspection” is this weekend. Basically, a bunch if rich Neeshans come down and inspect the properties to see if they want to buy it or maybe make a third vacation house on it. Obviously, they up the security, but all the guards are guys, so I can get past them with a bat of my eyes.
It's hard to focus on this weekend though. Cove and I are fighting… again. This time it's about family. His sister, Vivian, is trying to pull him back into her life again. I won't allow it. She's an Anaconda, as we like to call it. Basically, she tries to get into the inside circle of certain organizations (like our gangs) and find information so that the upperman can kill the leaders. The Anacondas are how my father died; at least I think. I refuse to let an Anaconda be a part of my boyfriend's life.
I haven't seen Cove in almost three days. I don't know where he's staying, god forbid it's with Vivian, but I know that he'll be around this weekend. He would never skip the Upperman inspection.
I’m not a big part of the gang. I’m simply a member. I’m obviously dedicated, I have the tattoo on my collarbone to prove it. It’s a bird, with the feathers falling off of its wings. To regular people, it doesn't really mean anything, but to me, it's kinda my roots. I’m not saying I like (or follow) all Ehlii’s rules, but those ethics and conduct are what I grew up believing, back when I took everything my father said as gold.
The first thing I need to do this morning is check on Ovia. Emberly likes to give me chores to do when Cove and I are fighting. She claims it'll help me keep my mind off it, but I know she just wants time away from O.
I think Ovia was like five when Emberly found her a little under two years ago. She had just moved out of the house and found Ovia scared and cold in the middle of winter on her block. O’s dad left her and her siblings when she was little (littler I should say, she's still a pipsqueak) and her mom had died. Her siblings decided to move to the next Sector but Ovia was sick and too young to make the trip. No one wanted to stay behind with her, so they left. It's terrible, but it happens a lot in Neesha actually.
I walk over to her house. It's only a few blocks from mine, and riding my bike really doesn't get me places any faster with all the traffic down the marketplace. By traffic I mean people. There aren't any cars or horses down here. I mean I guess there could be, but no one here is that rich, and if you are you immediately move to Adia. The only people who do that though are low lives. We sort of have a socialism going down here. We all kinda share everything. (we also all kinda steal everything, but we've got a code of ethics) Only, for us, it's not governed and everyone pitches in what little they have.
Her house is bigger than mine, but not as modern or well kept. Only two of the four bedrooms are furnished and she's usually not home anyway, between bartending and the gang. I knock on the door before entering, just to make sure that Ovia isn't doing something she's not supposed to be. I hate yelling at her. I honestly think Emberly is the only person who can, especially if she brings out her puppy eyes.
Right as I open the door, Ovia slides into the living room to see me. Her bright red, curly, hair is pulled into braided pigtails with bows at the end, and she's wearing an old orange sweater with bright blue jeans. She's wearing the plastic crown I got her a few years ago from a raid, proof that she's still a five-year-old at heart.
I stand up straight and gave her a bow, “Why hello Princess Ovia, you look lovely today.”
Her smile brightens and she curtsies, “Oh, thank you Sir Eira.” She gives me a pageant-like wave, before turning around and yelling, “Help, help, there's a dragon coming to get me!”
I laugh and scoop her up onto my shoulders. She flails around trying to direct me. Before long I’m exhausted (she's like sixty pounds) and throw her onto the couch. She laughs. Her laugh fills the room and it's almost musical. There's no doubt in my mind that she’ll end up in Adia. She's gorgeous. Right now we call it cute, but she'll grow into it, and, last name or not, some Adian boy is gonna take one look at her and sweep her off her feet. Then again, that's what everyone thought of me. I could have been married and in Aida by the time I was thirteen. But I had (have?) a strict moral code, because of my father. I was close to him and knew that moving to Adia would sever any ties I had to him, and no Adian boy would get my father's blessing. I wish Father had given Cove his blessing before he died. I know he wasn't his favorite person ever, but I think he really did like him, even if he didn't want to show it. (Obviously that only matters if he asks me to marry him but….)
“Don't tell Em,” she whispers once she's done laughing.
I give her half a smile, “Don't worry,” I pretend to zip up my lips, “She'll never know.”
I hate how hard Emberly is on her. I get where she's coming from, the royal family is terrible, taking our tax money and not blinking an eye to getting any problems fixed. They live in giant mansions made of precious metals while half the people in Neesha can't even afford food. It would be criminal if they didn't make the laws. Some might say it prejudice to judge the princes/princesses on their parents, but we haven't had a decent ruler in like 400 years, so it sounds pretty logical to me.
I just don't think that Ovia wanting to be a princess is bad. I mean she thinks of princesses as beautiful, kind, helpful people, who never have to worry about food rations or gangs. And honestly, who doesn't want that.
I clap my hands, “Alright, we need to get dinner going.”
She gives me a devious smile and I know exactly what's coming next.
“Ovia…… you know Emberly would kill me if she found out.”
She breaks into a smile and scrunches up her cute little nose and I just can't look into her pouty little eyes without giving in. “Fine! We can have cereal for dinner!”
She yelps, and jumps up and down, clapping her hands. “You are not telling Emberly about any of this though!”
She zips her lips like I did, “Your secrets safe with me.”
Hope
I used to think
hope was perfect
Its supose to be good right
the thing in your chest
that sparks up
when something good might happen
What it doesnt tell you
is that it crushes you
even more
than you would be crushed
if it had never been there at all
Is it worth it
to dream
to have hope
when it could flatten you to the ground
so much easier
than it could
if you had never let it in
It’s stronger than fear
but fear is so much safer
It’s happier than despair
but despair is so much easier
It’s better than hate
but if all you have is hate
no one can hurt you
If you tell yourself
that nothing good will ever happen
then you can’t be disapointed
when it doesn’t
When I was young
not very smart
but innocent enough
I believed that hope
could move mountains
Now I know
it only pushes them over
and crushes everyone
that stands beneath them